[TW Fic] The Trouble With Families [5/6]
Title: The Trouble With Families [5/6]
Characters: Jack/Ianto
Rating: 12 [mild spoilers for series 2]
Word Count: Chapter: 3,018 ; Total: 11,709
Summary: When Ianto gets a phone call from his mother, Jack feels obligated to find out what's going on. But there are some things even Captain Jack Harkness can't fix.
Disclaimer: Not RTD, not the BBC. I own nothing, I'm making no money from this. I really wish I had a Ianto, though.
Author Note: Unbeta'd, so please forgive any mistakes you find. I've always wanted to get 'Raxicoricofallapatorius' into a fic, so hopefully the reference works.
« Chapter One
« Chapter Two
« Chapter Three
« Chapter Four
Jack seriously considered wrapping himself up in festive paper and offering himself to Ianto as a present more than once over the next couple of weeks; finding something suitable for the Welshman proved harder than he’d thought and he did have a great package. However, he didn’t think that Ianto would appreciate the sentiment; besides, he already had Jack, hook, line and sinker. Why did he have to be so damn difficult to buy for, though? Gwen and Martha had been easy - apparently girls appreciated toiletries - but Jack couldn’t quite imagine Ianto wanting lavender scented bath bombs…although, they could potentially be quite fun. All that fizzing in warm bath water…he’d have to remember where he got them so that he could buy a couple for personal use.
However, problems with finding presents aside, Jack threw himself wholeheartedly into the decoration of the Hub; he had never celebrated Christmas before, and therefore he was determined to do it properly. It was a bit of a mystery to him why he hadn’t joined in with the festivities in the many years he had lived in Cardiff, but maybe it was because he’d never found someone he wanted to celebrate with. There hadn’t been much to celebrate around the time he’d been married, as much as he’d loved her, and he’d not had the bond with previous partners that he had with Ianto; they were simply a way to pass the time while he waited for the Doctor to return. Ianto was so much more than that, and Jack wanted this Christmas to be special, especially after everything they’d been through the past year. If it made him seem more like a five-year-old than the leader of a secret organisation, then so be it. He didn’t care; he was celebrating Christmas.
At least Ianto seemed happier now that he knew he didn’t have to endure several hours of elderly relatives who thought they knew everything but really knew nothing. Knowing that he’d helped to do that made him happy; a content boyfriend meant that Jack had to be doing something right amongst the failure of letting down Toshiko and Owen, the feeling of which would never quite leave him. But now was not the time to regret; neither of his friends would have wanted him to mourn them, and so he was going to have the best bloody Christmas ever, for Tosh and Owen, but most importantly, for Ianto.
Jack lounged in his office chair, feet on the desk as usual, pretending to be doing some super-important paperwork (pfft, what a farce; everyone knew that it was Ianto who wrote the important things and Jack just signed them off) while really alternating between surfing the internet for some present ideas that would suit his lover and watching said lover in the tourist office over CCTV.
It was a hobby that Jack enjoyed immensely and was certainly far more interesting than the paperwork on his desk. Ianto looked so relaxed when he was in the office, doing a ‘normal’ job; sometimes Jack wished that he could offer him the normal life instead of one filled with dangerous aliens and potential death at any moment. It scared him to think that he could lose Ianto and Gwen anytime soon; Tosh and Owen’s deaths had brought it home to him just how dangerous working for Torchwood was. Ianto, of course, wouldn’t hear anything of resigning so he could go and get married or find a career that wouldn’t lead to him being killed by an invading alien, however much Jack tried to persuade him that it would be for the best. Secretly, Jack was glad about this; he wasn’t sure how well he would be able to cope if Ianto left.
Ianto seemed pretty set on sticking around for the foreseeable future, though, which was something. Not that it was easy to predict what was going to fall through the Rift, not even with the projects Toshiko had been working on before she…before. Still, it didn’t do to dwell on the future; the present was what mattered, and right now, he had an instant message to deal with - judging by the way that Ianto kept glancing up at the camera in the corner of the tourist office, the tiniest smirk visible, Jack guessed that it was from him.
Ianto: Are you watching me on the CCTV again?
Jack: Mayb
Ianto: That’s harassment, sir.
Jack: O yh, but u no u luv it
Ianto: God, who’s been teaching you text speak now?
Jack: No1…
Ianto: Please stop screwing up the English language.
Jack: Can I screw you instead?
Ianto: Honestly, sir, I might have to make a formal complaint about this harassment.
Jack: Do I get to do a thorough examination?
Jack: You know, an investigation to check the facts.
Ianto: Possibly.
Jack: Good, that’d be fun.
Ianto: You know what would be even more fun?
Jack: What?!
Ianto: You getting on with the paperwork so that it’s done before Christmas.
Jack: But…
Ianto: If you don’t, I’ll make you do it this evening, and then we won’t have any time
for your investigation.
Ianto: Oh, and I won’t come and make your coffee in the next few minutes either. Jack: Blackmail!
Ianto: Oh yes, but you know you love it.
After that, Jack attempted to get through at least some of the paperwork on his desk before Ianto came down to make the coffee. He switched off the camera feed so that he wasn’t distracted by admiring Ianto’s arse (which, clearly, could have distracted him for hours, particularly as Ianto had decided to choose this moment to get some things out of the bottom drawer of a filing cabinet, his back to the camera. Jack was sure it was intentional), closed the windows on his computer that had been searching for Christmas presents and got out his pen, tapping it against his lips thoughtfully as he reached for the uppermost folder. This was the part of the job he hated; he was an action guy, finding his thrills from going into dangerous situations and neutralising the threats in whatever way was necessary. Sitting behind a desk, while it made him look important (which he loved), was so, so dull. However, he knew that Ianto would have no trouble holding off on the sex front if he didn’t get it done, so it was a necessary evil. Sometimes Ianto’s self control amazed him.
***
The coffee was late. Jack had been working hard, with only one sheet of A4 paper covered in doodles and random scrawlings. While he hadn’t got through the whole pile of paper that was on his desk, he could at least see the wood for the first time in weeks, which was a great achievement. Therefore, by his calculations, he deserved to have his coffee, but Ianto was nowhere to be seen. It wasn’t like him to be late in the slightest; Ianto had a better internal clock than anybody else Jack knew, so good that you could almost set your watch by him, and failing that there was always at least one timepiece on his person. So where was he?
After tapping his pen impatiently on the side of his desk for a few minutes, Jack picked up his phone and dialled the extension for the tourist office upstairs. If Ianto was busy (and/or ignoring him), he wouldn’t answer his mobile, seeing as it would flash up with his name, whereas he had to answer the office phone in case it was an external call. Still tapping his pen, Jack listened to the long ringing before Ianto finally picked it up, answering with a curt, “Yes?”
“Ianto, are you alright?”
“Fine, fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Sorry about the coffee, sir, I’ll be down as soon as I can.”
Ah. Now Jack was convinced that everything was not quite as it seemed; not only did Ianto sound distracted (and Ianto Jones was never, ever distracted from the task at hand, not even when Jack came and wrapped his arms around his waist and started nuzzling his neck), he had called Jack ‘sir’. Aside from in jest, or to turn Jack on - neither of which were happening now - it was only when something was wrong that Ianto reverted to the formal term of address, having decided that it was a bit odd to call your boyfriend ‘sir’, even if he happened to be your boss too. Sometimes it was something Jack had (or hadn’t) done, or sometimes it was because Ianto was upset and wanted to try and distance himself. This time, however, Jack was sure that he hadn’t done anything to annoy Ianto - he’d done the paperwork without getting too distracted, for crying out loud - so therefore there had to be something wrong. There was only one way to find out what; Jack needed to go up there.
***
The tourist office was more brightly decorated than the rest of the Hub; Gwen had told them that all the shops were displaying far too many decorations at this time of year and even though hardly anybody actually came in, they should work along the same idea so as to blend in. Jack didn’t mind; while in previous years, he had refused to let his team put up more than a couple of bits of tinsel, now that he was going to be celebrating properly, it was actually rather fun to spend time hanging up paper chains (how Ianto had moaned when the task of making them had been delegated to him when all he’d wanted to do was sort out the archives) and draping fake icicles on the edge of the desk.
“Everything okay, Ianto?” Jack asked as he poked his head through the beaded curtain behind the desk - he preferred using the secret entrance but it kind of gave the game away if a hidden door opened in front of genuine customers. Looking round the shop, there didn’t seem to be any immediate threats; there was no alien threatening the Welshman with spear-ended tentacles, nor did it seem as though a bomb was about to go off. In fact, the only other person in the room was an oldish woman, probably in her seventies (not that he could talk about age, given the fact that he was over two thousand years old) who was glaring at Ianto. Wow, if looks could kill…
“Jack, this is my great-aunt Caryn.”
Oh.
Right.
That would explain it, then.
“Aunt Caryn, this is Jack Harkness, my bo- my boss.”
“You’re the one who’s making him work Christmas Eve, Mr Harkness,” snapped Caryn. Gosh, she didn’t waste her time, did she? He hadn’t even had a chance to draw breath before she was snapping at him, clearly trying to assert some kind of power over him in the way she had Ianto. Jack stared her down, one hand on his hip, the other resting on Ianto’s shoulder, refusing to be intimidated. She was only a catty woman, after all; Jack had seen so many terrifying things - done so many terrifying things - he wasn’t about to be scared by somebody’s great-aunt, even if she did look as though she could turn milk sour.
“Captain Harkness, ma’am. And yes, unfortunately-”
“Actually, Aunt Caryn,” Ianto put in, about to defend Jack (which made Jack all the more proud of him), only to have the woman spin round to face him instead, her expression hard. Jack could almost see the poison dart coming out of her finger, a defence mechanism used by the female Raxicoricofallapatorians, ready to maim her own great-nephew in the pursuit of what she thought was ‘right’. Caryn would make a good Slitheen. Maybe she already was one…
“Don’t interrupt, young man!”
Jack felt Ianto tense and could see that the leaflet he had been holding was now no more than a screwed up piece of paper. He squeezed Ianto’s shoulder gently, wishing that he could take him away from this woman right now. He hadn’t even been in the room five minutes and already she had lashed out at both of them. What she was like in private, with no public niceties to hold her back (not that she seemed to adhere to what Jack would have imagined were the boundaries one should keep when humiliating a younger relative in front of his boss), Jack dreaded to think.
“Both Ianto and I need to work on Christmas Eve,” Jack said tightly.
“Here?” God, the woman was getting on his nerves already. It was her tone more than anything; she sounded as though she was looking down her nose at everything, judging before she knew the facts and even the Welsh accent that he usually loved so much couldn’t compensate for that. “You’re not exactly overflowing with custom. Could do with redecorating too. What happened to that nice job you had in London, Ianto?”
“The company closed down,” Ianto said quietly, and Jack knew that he was doing his best to both stave off the memories of Canary Wharf and stop himself hitting his great-aunt. Jack would be perfectly happy to help with the latter; it wasn’t as though he’d be picking on somebody older than him or anything. All Ianto needed to do was say the word.
“And that nice girlfriend you had. What was she called? Lila? Lois?”
“Lisa. She died.”
“She would have made sure you kept your manners. Nice girl she was, don’t know why you stopped seeing her, Ianto. And now you’re going to desert your family at Christmas to come and work in this grotty shop with some American?”
“Not some American,” Ianto whispered back through gritted teeth, although Jack was sure that the old woman was so lost in her chiding that she wouldn’t hear if he shouted that the two of them were lovers and had engaged in very hot sex right on the desk she was standing by. “Jack.”
Jack’s fingers brushed Ianto’s cheek briefly before returning his hand to Ianto’s shoulder, knowing that both of them would be in for a tongue lashing if Caryn caught any sign of the real relationship between the two. Jack wouldn’t have minded, because he had nothing to be ashamed about, but it had been hard enough to convince Ianto that holding hands and kissing in public was okay. Getting him to come out to his great-aunt would be almost impossible.
“Never liked the Yanks,” Caryn was continuing, her voice grating in Jack’s head as she turned her attention back to him. “Overpaid, oversexed and over here. That’s what we said during the war. Still applies now.”
Squeezing Ianto’s shoulder again, Jack walked around the desk, folding his arms across his chest and staring down at the woman, doing his best ‘I’m the Captain, feel intimidated by me’ look.
“Do you actually need anything, or are you just here to make Ianto feel bad?” he asked, trying desperately hard not to shout. He didn’t think Ianto would appreciate it somehow, however much he hated the woman; family seemed to be important to him. Jack could understand that, but there was a point when it just needed to stop. Like now. He couldn’t bear to have this woman in his home any longer, and she hadn’t even got past the front door.
“I’m here to make sure that he comes on Christmas Eve,” Caryn replied stonily. A lesser man would have collapsed under the strength of her gaze, but Jack wasn’t a lesser man. “His family is what matters, not a job which he is clearly overqualified for.”
“He’s twenty-six years old. I think he can choose for himself. He’s also standing right here. Why don’t you ask Ianto himself whether he wants to come instead of treating him like a child?”
“I don’t want to come,” Ianto said quickly as Jack looked pointedly at him, although he noticed that Ianto didn’t look his aunt in the eye. They would have to work on the assertiveness a bit more sometime; Jack wasn’t used to seeing Ianto quite so willing to hide in the shadows and take whatever was thrown at him with nothing more than a blank expression, though he was pretty sure that it had to hurt inside. This was what Ianto had meant when he’d said he didn’t want Jack to see him like this, Jack realised suddenly. This Ianto was different to the one that he knew. Jack hoped that he wouldn’t have to see this side of him again.
“In fact, I’d rather wrestle six Weevils than spend my Christmas with you.”
Ah, that was the Ianto he knew and loved! Jack grinned, ushering Caryn towards the door before she’d had a chance to process what had been said, ignoring her questions and threats (something which was made easier when she switched to Welsh, even if what was being said made Ianto wince). The moment she was gone, Jack closed the door behind her, leaning against it as Ianto rested his forehead heavily on the desk.
“Never again.”
Jack was perfectly happy to agree with that; he didn’t really do families after all this time and he would much rather spend his time with Ianto doing things that it wasn’t acceptable to do in front of aunts, uncles and assorted relations.
Coming round the desk, just managing to avoid knocking over an artificial tree that was balanced on a pile of brochures as he did so, Jack’s fingers found their way back to Ianto’s shoulders, massaging away the knots and tension he could feel there. A smile appeared on his face as Ianto leaned into his touch before turning round and pulling Jack down for a searing kiss. Finally Ianto pulled away, loosening his tie slightly but other than that seeming far less ruffled than was possible after kissing Jack. He’d have to work on that too; it wasn’t normal for people to be able to breathe properly after being snogged by him.
“How about I make some coffee and we see about that investigation then, sir?”
» Chapter Six