[fic] torchwood - light sweetly gleaming - pg - gwen + ianto, gen
Title: Light Sweetly Gleaming
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Ianto, Gwen, canon pairings
Rating: PG
Length: ~7000
Summary: Gwen tries to make Christmas memorable, but it's Ianto who steals the show.
Notes: For neurotictealeaf for mistletw. Rachael, this isn't the story I wanted to write. Or, rather, it was half the story I wanted to write, but it took weeks of panicking and prodding to realize that the story I wanted was really two stories. This is the story of those two that fits your prompt (sort of.). I owe you a less scattered story, which I will just add to the long list of other things I owe you. You can expect it sometime before I die. Maybe. Anyway, I hope you like it, or are at least good at pretending.
Many, many, MANY thanks to solsticezero, who was man enough to tell me that my original idea was just not going to work the way I wanted to. Also, thanks for the quick fake-beta earlier today. ♥ Title (paraphrased) from "O Holy Night."
***
Ianto's holding up two ties for Gwen's perusal when their phones go off simultaneously. Maybe it's spending so much time with Ianto or maybe it's just her growing ire, despite the festive dressings of the season surrounding her, but Gwen rolls her eyes just as hard as Ianto does.
She touches her bluetooth before Ianto can put down either of the ties.
"Yes," she says before Jack can say anything, "We're fine, nothing's wrong, and everything is normal." Across the shop, she sees a woman arguing with a salesgirl over the price of a very fine shirt. "Well, as normal as shopping at the holidays ever gets."
There's silence from Jack's end of the line, then something that sounds like papers shuffling.
"Fine," Jack says, finally. She knows that if she could see him, he'd be pouting. "Just checking."
"We'll call you if anything comes up," she says, more kindly. She doesn't have to ask him to do the same; she knows he'll call every twenty minutes regardless.
"Fine," Jack says again. "I want you back here by two!"
"And we will be, if you stop interrupting!" Gwen says. She clicks off her bluetooth before Jack can respond.
Ianto is looking at her with his eyebrows raised, but the rest of his expression is neutral and guarded as always. He's still holding the ties.
"How is he?" Ianto asks.
Gwen shrugs. "Nervous. Grumpy. Put-out."
"Normal, then," Ianto concludes, and holds the ties out. "Come on. I already told you which one I liked. Gut instinct."
Gwen hesitates for another second before grabbing the black tie with the gold regimental stripe out of Ianto's hand. He hums in approval and helps her gather her purchases up and head towards the cashier.
It hadn't been as hard as Gwen thought it would be to wrangle an afternoon of shopping out of Jack. After two weeks from hell, the rift seemed to be gifting them with nearly four days of calm, culminating on Boxing Day. If Tosh's prediction algorithm was to be trusted, they were going to have a quiet Christmas. It was news that, for some reason, had sent Jack back into the overprotective smothering that she and Ianto had worked so hard to wean him out of after--well, after Tosh and Owen.
"We can never be too careful," Jack had said more than once in the past few days. "No technology is perfect. We need to be prepared."
Gwen was baffled. The first few weeks after Tosh and Owen had been hard, but eventually Jack backed off and let them out of his sight again. She hadn't expected this resurgence and it was hampering her holiday preparations.
"I think he's been thinking about them again," Ianto confessed one afternoon as they stood at the coffee maker, murmuring in soft voices while Jack did an autopsy down below. "Tosh's Christmas holiday request came up in the system the other day, and last Christmas, with John Ellis and Owen and Diane...." Ianto shrugged and stirred his coffee, leaning into Gwen when her hand snuck its way around his waist as they fell into a silence in the shape of their fallen colleagues.
The salesgirl is particularly frazzled by the time Ianto and Gwen inch their way up to her register. Gwen does her best to be patient and accommodating and cheerful, remembering the summers she worked at the ice cream stand and how horrible customer service can be. Ianto flirts with her a little as he pays for his own purchases--shirts for himself, not presents, in an effort to replace at least some of the clothing damaged over the past two weeks. She's smiling brightly at Ianto as he winks at her and takes his bags, and Gwen can't help nudging him with her elbow as they leave the shop.
"Jack's starting to rub off on you," she says. He just proves her point when he leers at her as he pulls the door open. She rolls her eyes. "Exactly. You two still coming round for Christmas dinner?"
They make their way, without discussion, to the coffee shop across the street. As they do, it's Ianto's turn to roll his eyes.
"Planning on it," he says, "but Jack is being... well...."
"Jack?" Gwen suggests. Ianto nods and holds the door for her.
"Nervous about being away from the Hub for the whole day, nervous about god knows what else. Excuses, all of it. We're all away from the Hub more often than not, these days. He'll be there all morning when I drop by Rhiannon's. I think he's afraid of something happening in front of your family. Trouble does seem to follow us."
Gwen can't argue with that.
"You are my family, love," she says. She doesn't need him to tell her that she's his, either. Ianto may have a sister and a niece and a nephew that he holds at arm's length, but blood doesn't make a family and he knows that as well as she does. It's their first year without Tosh and Owen, their first year without them after really coalescing as a team, after forging, for far too short a time, the substitute family they all yearned for. They need to stick together. She had hoped Jack would understand that, too.
"I'll get him there," Ianto promises. "Even if I have to fake a rift alarm. But I don't think it will come to that. I think he just needs to be reminded that...."
He trails off. Gwen cocks her head to the side, waiting for him to go on.
"It wasn't the end," Ianto finally says. "Like he said, right after it happened. The three of us, we're a beginning. A fresh start. And we still have each other."
Gwen takes his hand across the table, their fingers slotting into place around each other. Ianto's fingers are long and pale and narrow, cold from being out without gloves in the sharp December winds. They're still a comfort as his words sink in, as the loss that's always hovering in the back of her mind nips at her insides once again.
"I'll get coffee," he murmurs to her, squeezing her hand as he pushes his chair back and gets to his feet. "You decide the rest of our plan of attack."
She takes a moment to compose herself as Ianto gets on line, reorganizing her thoughts, shutting away the grief once again. She pulls a list out of her pocket and goes down it quickly. She's finished with her parents and now she's gotten Rhys done as well. She may have, in fact, over-bought for Rhys. Not only is it their first Christmas as a married couple, but it's Rhys' first Christmas knowing about Torchwood. She hadn't been able to stop herself from buying him all the things she had wanted to buy him last year but resisted out of fear that he'd ask where the money came from.
Ianto's been finished longest of all--over a month ago, it was, that she stumbled across the beautiful antique cufflinks in a shop near her flat while she was ducking out of a particularly brutal thunderstorm. She bought them on the spot. She's incredibly proud of herself for keeping mum about them for this long.
That leaves just one person, and Gwen is completely at a loss for what to get him. When Ianto comes back with their coffee, she's still tapping her list against her lips thoughtfully.
"Did you get Jack anything for Christmas?" she asks when Ianto raises his eyebrows at her. He grins wryly at the question.
"Jack and I aren't quite that conventional," Ianto says. "But I... yes. I have done something for him."
"Done something?" Gwen asks. She smirks over her coffee mug. "This isn't going to end up like the birthday marmalade incident, is it?"
She will never stop being surprised that after years of being around Jack, Ianto Jones still has the capacity to blush.
"Not like that," Ianto says quickly. He twirls the end of his coffee stirrer between his fingers, something like indecision coloring his expression. "Jack told me--there's a holiday like Christmas, where Jack comes from." Gwen abruptly understands Ianto's indecision. While he is more than happy to tell tales about the things Jack does in bed or Jack's ridiculous antics outside of work, stories about Jack's personal life are another matter. They're different. Treasured. Jack divulges so little about himself that every small morsel is a gift wrapped in layers of trust.
"It's not surprising, really," Ianto continues. "Every culture on Earth has a festival of lights as the days get shorter. It should stand to reason that cultures on other planets would do the same. Anyway, instead of exchanging material gifts, people exchange... he had a word for it. He said the best English translation would be 'good deeds.' They do something kind for their loved ones with no expectation of reciprocation." He rolls his shoulders and looks up at her with a smile that's almost shy. "So I've done something for him. I... I think he'll like that. It's not like he needs anything."
"Oh, Ianto," she says softly, reaching over and taking both of his hands in hers. "I know he'll love it." She squeezes his fingers and smiles when he squeezes back.
"He has a pocket watch," Ianto says, clearly emboldened. "I think he's had it since the turn of the century. The twentieth century, that is. It's been broken at least as long as I've known him, but he's very fond of it. He still wears it. I asked him why he hasn't just had it fixed. He says he never finds the time. So, I fixed it."
"You fixed it?" Gwen asks. "Yourself?"
Ianto shrugs. "I've picked things up here and there," he says.
"And fixing watches just happened to be one of those things?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.
"One of the first," he says. He takes a sip from his coffee with a smirk, and Gwen can tell that the conversation is over. Sometimes she wonders how much of it is Ianto playing things close to the chest and how much of it is a finely crafted air of mystery. Sometimes, Ianto and Jack are far too much alike.
"So, then," she says, the first morsel of an idea for Jack's gift rolling around in her mind. "I'm just about through. You're done with Jack. Do you need to stop anywhere else while we're out?"
Ianto shakes his head. "I've already got something for Rhiannon. I got Mica and David an XBox along with some books, because they bloody well are going to learn some culture somewhere and it's certainly not going to be from that uncultured proletarian she married."
Gwen can't hold in her laughter and she winces as she feels the coffee burning her sinuses as it makes an effort to shoot out her nose.
"Oh my god," she says once she's stopped coughing, "Ianto, that is the snottiest thing I have ever heard you say, and that includes all those cracks about Jack's table manners and wardrobe."
Ianto turns his nose up slightly, though he seems at least half amused. "Are you calling me a snob?"
"We all already know you're a snob, darling," Gwen says. "I'm just saying you're usually a bit more subtle about it."
He rolls his eyes and says, "Well, I had gotten something for you, but maybe I'll just keep it for myself."
She kicks him under the table and they share a smile over their coffee. "Shall we pick up lunch for Himself on our way back?"
"It's probably a good idea," Ianto says. "Otherwise he might try to eat something leftover in the fridge, and while I know he'll survive it, food poisoning can't be a good way to go."
They finish their coffee in companionable silence, while Gwen wonders, idly, what it is that Ianto's gotten her. She can't remember saying anything specifically, but then, she wouldn't need to. Ianto always knows what she wants, practically before she knows herself. She wonders, sometimes, where he learned that intuition, if it was something he forced himself to learn while attempting to hide Lisa or if it was something he had always known.
What she really wants, she thinks, as she watches the cheerful patrons around them and the smiling faces passing on the street, is for Ianto to smile like this every day. She wants him to come to terms with his past and embrace his future, specifically his future with Jack--however long or short it turns out to be. She wants him to accept that he's allowed to have good things in his life and accept that Jack isn't going anywhere. She wants him not to walk on eggshells all the time, not to be afraid of opening himself up to them.
But she can hardly ask for that. And she can't expect him to change so abruptly. No, that would be a Christmas miracle, and she's learned, since coming to work for Torchwood, that miracles are one realm of the supernatural that can't be relied on.
"You just about done?" she asks him when their coffee cups are empty and Ianto is contemplating the the door to the coffee shop with a frown. He sighs and looks back to her, a half smile on his face.
"Yes," he says. "Might as well brave the great outdoors."
He graciously picks up her bags along with his own and they deposit their trash in the bin on their way back out onto the street. It's colder than it looks, the wind sharp and bitter and making Gwen wish she had remembered to bring her hat. Now that she has an idea for Jack, she's through with her shopping and Ianto seems to be too, so she's surprised when he takes her hand in his free one and pulls her into a store adorned with Christmas decorations.
"One of the strands of fairy lights in the tourist office isn't working," he explains as the door jinglejangles closed behind them. "I've been meaning to pick up some replacements. I could probably find the fuse and replace that, but...."
"Easier to just buy new ones?" Gwen guesses.
"Well, yes," Ianto says. "Have you ever tried to pull those little bulbs out to check the fuses? Bloody destroys your fingertips." He squeezes her fingers and then drops her hand, wandering over to a display of Christmas lights in every color. Gwen shakes her head fondly and pokes around the shop a bit, waiting for the inevitable inspection of different brands, prices, and aestetic value of each type of light.
It's the sort of shop that sells tourist knick-knacks during the summer and seasonal crap the rest of the year. The shelves are full of snow globes of Father Christmas and wooden nutcrackers. Ornaments hang from the walls on metal hooks and from the boughs of the fake Christmas trees that seem to take up most of the available floorspace.
Gwen is shaking her head again, when the star on the top of one of those trees catches her eye.
It isn't exactly the type she's looking for--too modern, too bright and colorful. She doesn't think she'll find the type of star she's in search of in such a modern, gaudy shop, but it doesn't hurt to look.
That's where Ianto finds her, ten minutes later. He's holding a box of standard white fairy lights and lays a hand on her shoulder to get her attention.
"Sorry," she says. "I was just...."
"Looking for something?" he suggests.
"Sort of," she admits. "I didn't think I'd find it here."
She watches his gaze slip over the angels and stars and bows on the shelf in front of her.
"Tree-topper?" he asks. "Any particular kind?" His fingers reach out and adjust the hem of an angel's skirt.
"No," Gwen says, blushing a little. "Yes. I don't know." All he has to do is raise an eyebrow in question and she launches into the story. "When I was a girl, it was my job to put the star on top of the tree. My favorite part of decorating for the holidays. It was an old star--I think it had been my grandmother's--and it just looked so classic and beautiful. Mum always said I could have the star when I moved out on my own, but my Dad accidentally dropped it I was seventeen. It was mostly glass and didn't survive and...well, I've never been able to find something to replace it. I know that whatever I get will become it's own tradition, but I can't quite let go of the old one yet. Seems stupid, I know, but...." She shrugs and smiles sheepishly. She can't quite read the expression on Ianto's face. It's gone distant and acute. It's certainly not the fondly dismissive laugh she was expecting.
"I know what you mean," he says quietly, and that's definitely unexpected. "When I was a kid, my mum and I had something similar. Our own little ritual of putting up the star. It was the very last thing and she used to lift me up to put it on top. We'd say this stupid rhyme. 'Oh, silver shining star / you'll guide us home where'r we are.' Stupid, really, but it was something that was just ours, not Rhi's, not Dad's. Anyway, after she--well, my dad never took to it. After, he didn't bother putting the star on top at all, no matter how much I asked. It's one of the only things I took from the house when I left."
Even more rare than a moment from Jack's past is one from Ianto's. Gwen doesn't quite know what to say. She settles for wrapping her arm around his waist until he looks normal again and clears his throat.
"Lunch for Jack, then," he says. His ears are pink. She wishes she could get him to accept that there's no reason for shame about who he is or where he's come from. That, of course, would take another Christmas miracle.
"He mentioned the new Chinese place near the bay," Gwen says. "And I'm craving shrimp a bit."
"Sorted, then," Ianto says. "Let me just pay for these and we'll be on our way, yeah?" Gwen nods, retreating from the half embrace. She's surprised when Ianto hesitates, then turns back to her and cups her face in his free hand, kissing her cheek firmly. "Thanks for that," he says, and flees to the cashier before Gwen knows what's happened.
She watches his back, rubbing her thumb gently over her cheek. Christmas miracle indeed.
***
Gwen is able to put off Christmas fretting until the clock chimes eleven and she still hasn't heard from Jack or Ianto.
"Relax, love," Rhys says when she starts pacing the short length of the kitchen again. "You said it yourself--Ianto's over for breakfast with his sister. I'm sure he'll call you as soon as he's done."
"It would just be good to know if they're coming," Gwen says. If Jack's coming, really, because Ianto will come no matter what. Ianto will come because Gwen asked him, even if it means being apart from Jack for the holiday. Ianto doesn't break promises lightly.
"I'm sure they are," Rhys says. He musses her hair gently and she scowls at him as she raises a hand to straighten it. Jack and Ianto aside, her parents will be here any moment and she'd like to look put together and in charge for her first adult Christmas with her parents.
As if on cue, the door buzzes. Gwen fixes her hair a little more frantically and rushes to buzz her parents up to the flat.
It's a flurry of hellos and hugs and bringing things up from the car. Gwen had told her parents that she and Rhys are adults and don't need any actual gifts, but that has never stopped her father before and she doubts it ever will. She had also told her mother that she (well, Rhys) has the food under control and her mum needn't bring anything, but that has never stopped her mother, either. There are at least three desserts and two side dishes and Rhys just sighs with resignation and shifts plates to make room for them on the counter.
The last time she saw her parents was the wedding, an event that they don't entirely remember, though they hide it well. That was a lesson she learned from Jack, one that she and Ianto have gathered he learned from his Doctor. When faced with a large, but precise loss of memory, people will agree to nearly anything you tell them they did. Still, it means it's been even longer than since she really, properly talked to them and she feels like she has loads to share, even if she can't technically talk about most of her life. She shares stories about her life with Rhys and carefully watered down, carefully edited versions of work stories while Rhys puts the finishing touches on dinner. She barely notices the time until her mobile starts buzzing on the table in front of them. Her heart soars, though she tells herself that it's just as likely that Ianto is calling to tell her Jack's staying home as it is that he's calling to say they're on their way.
"Happy Christmas, Gwen!" Ianto says cheerfully when she picks up.
"Happy Christmas, sweetheart," she replies. He sounds far too happy for Jack to be staying home and she relaxes back into the chair, grinning and nodding at Rhys, who's looking at her questioningly from the kitchen.
"Jack and I will be by in about thirty minutes," he says. "We have to change. There was a small Weevil problem."
"Did you get it sorted, then?" she asks. "You know you could have called."
"It was fine," Ianto insists. "Jack, get your hand out of--stop that!--Um, it was fine, we handled it. We'll see you soon, yeah?"
"Wonderful. I'll tell Rhys," she says. She can hear Jack in the background, murmuring something about slime, and then Ianto's exasperated sigh followed by the disconnect. "They'll be here in a bit," she tells the room at large. She can't keep the grin off of her face, which she knows is the reason Rhys doesn't roll his eyes and make some comment about spending Christmas with Jack. Her husband, her wonderful, patient, indulgent husband understands the complicated mess that her life has become, her affection for Ianto, her complex relationship with Jack, and the deep, heavy pain they've all carried with them since the loss of Tosh and Owen. He still doesn't entirely trust Jack, but he trusts her and he trusts Ianto and he knows that the bond between the three of them is something that none of them can quite put into words.
"These are your work mates, then?" her father asks. Gwen nods, still grinning.
"Jack and Ianto," she says. Then adds, "You remember, from the wedding?" Because even if they don't remember, they've seen the few salvageable wedding photos, including the one of her dancing with Ianto while Jack and Rhys have a conversation in the background that neither of them has ever actually been able to fully explain to her.
"Of course," her mother says, but she frowns a little, and Gwen feels a jolt of guilt for the little white lie. Well, that one, and the rest she's bound to tell tonight. Starting right now, actually.
"They work Special Ops with me," she reminds her parents, "so we can't exactly talk about work. If they start to see weird or like they're not quite telling you everything...." She shrugs. "It's better that you don't know. We've seen some pretty nasty things."
Her parents both nod in quick agreement and she wishes, for one moment, that she could tell them about her life, really tell them about it. It passes quickly--she wasn't lying when she told Jack she didn't want her parents to remember how terrible her job was. Better that their focus is on their beautiful, mundane lives out in Swansea.
Conversation is less easy after the phone call--Gwen finds herself filled with anxious energy. Because Ianto was right--they are something of a magnet for trouble, especially when the three of them are together. Additionally, she can't help but be nervous about the gifts she's chosen. Last year, she had only been working at Torchwood for a handful of months before Christmas. She'd gotten Ianto coffee beans and Jack a bottle of scotch--impersonal, last minute gifts picked up when she realized she had presents for Tosh and Owen and nothing for the rest of the team.
Her parents seem unsure of what to expect, as well.
"So, these friends of yours," her father says. "Jack and Ianto. They're, ah... both blokes?"
Gwen nods, absently, wondering what woman her father has ever met with the name "Jack" or "Ianto."
"And they're... well, are they... you know," her father continues.
This time, Gwen does look up.
"A couple," her mother says quickly. "It's fine if they are, of course. We were just curious. You never mention your old friends anymore, and I was telling your father that frequently, when a couple get married, they start to spend more time with couple friends and--"
Gwen manages to cut her mother off before the comic horror she's feeling can show itself on her face. She hears Rhys snort from the kitchen and knows that he has a thing or two to say about Jack and Ianto being their "couple friends." He manages, thankfully, to keep his thoughts to himself.
"Yes," Gwen says quickly to her parents. "Yes, yes, they're a couple. Or, well--I wouldn't use the word 'couple' around Ianto. It tends to make him a bit peaky. But they're--yes." She wants to explain further, to describe that it's more than being a couple, that it's some bizarre, convoluted bond, that Ianto would die for Jack, even though that's hardly necessary, and that Jack has died for Ianto again and again and again. She wishes she could make them understand the web of love and loyalty and duty that's so thick and twisted around them that it's managed to snare Gwen and Rhys as well.
She can't explain ant of it, though, if only because she doesn't quite understand it herself, most days. Instead, she forces a smile, lets her mother envision a campy couple right out of a sitcom, and waits patiently for their arrival.
The door buzzes almost exactly thirty minutes after Ianto's phone call. Ianto has a key and Jack, of course, can use his wrist strap to get in anywhere, but she appreciates the warning. She buzzes them up and waits at the door, fidgeting just slightly until she hears the knock on the door itself.
Ianto and Jack are standing behind the door, and something inside of Gwen unfurls when she sees them. She gestures them inside.
"Happy Christmas, boys," she says, kissing them on the cheek in turn as they come inside. Ianto is carrying a shopping bag full of wrapped gifts. Jack is carrying a large, covered serving platter. "I told you that you didn't need to bring anything," she says, smacking Ianto's arm.
"Don't look at me," Ianto says. "I'm perfectly happy to let someone else figure out what we're eating for once. He insisted."
Jack flashes her a charming smile, and for the first time, she looks past the platter and realizes--
"Jack?" she asks. "Are you wearing a jumper?"
Jack's blinding smile immediately turns into a frown.
"I don't understand why you people think this is a big deal," he says.
"It's not a big deal," Gwen says quickly, although it kind of is. She can't remember the last time she saw Jack in anything other than one of his various blue shirts. Sometimes, he wears a waistcoat. She's certainly never seen him in a bright red wool jumper. "I was just surprised." She's about to offer to take his coat, but Ianto has already slipped it from his shoulders and is now standing awkwardly in the living room holding Jack's coat, his own, and the bag of gifts. Gwen rolls her eyes and takes the bag from him. "You two and that coat."
"It's a nice coat," Ianto says defensively. "Bedroom?"
"Ooo, this party is already picking up," Jack says with a leer. Ianto rolls his eyes.
"I'm sorry, Gwen, he's been like this all morning. I think Father Christmas brought him back his sense of humor. It's tragic, really." Ianto disappears around the corner and then reappears almost as quickly, wiping his hands on the thighs of his trousers. It looks like he's wearing one of his usual suits, minus the jacket and tie. He looks much younger than usual. It's a good look for him.
"You two remember my parents, don't you?" she asks, laying a hand on Ianto's shoulder and gesturing towards where her parents are sitting in curious silence.
"Of course," Ianto says. He offers his hand to her father for a shake, and then kisses the back of her mother's hand. She can already tell that her mother is thoroughly charmed, as if Gwen had any doubt. Ianto can put anyone at ease. "It's lovely to see you both again."
"Mum, Dad, you remember Ianto and Jack." She makes sure to gesture to each of them in turn, as if there can be any question of who is who with Jack's sharp, American accent and Ianto's pale, Welsh complexion.
"Happy Christmas, Mr. and Mrs. Cooper," Jack says, mirroring Ianto's actions with the brilliant smile he uses on strangers and witnesses. Her mother is thoroughly charmed by Jack in a different way. Her father is a bit more cautious.
"Nice to see you gentlemen again as well," her dad says. He's subtly sizing them up, pinning them with an unreadable stare. For once in what could possibly be Jack's entire long life, he doesn't posture, puff up, or leer. He stands casually, the platter still balancing on one arm, and smiles politely. After an endless moment, her father smiles back. Gwen feels something inside of her unclench. Ianto, too, has relaxed, as if he's no longer afraid the ceiling is going to come crashing down on him.
Rhys makes his way over from the kitchen, drying his hands on a tea towel.
"Happy Christmas, mate," he says, clapping Ianto on the back.
"And a Happy New Year, Rhys," Ianto says. "Jack brought...." He trails off and raises his eyebrows at Jack. "Something," he finally says. Jack just smiles and hands the platter to Rhys.
"It's for dessert," he says.
"You made it?" Rhys asks suspiciously. Jack looks slightly put out.
"Yes," he says. "I can cook."
"He just chooses not to," Ianto says smoothly.
"I cook for you all the time!" Jack protests. Ianto's incredulous expression is unwavering. "I cook for you sometimes. I cook for you about once a week...if we're not busy...or I'm not tired...." Ianto smiles, satisfied, and nods at Rhys.
"He can cook," he confirms. "At least, he hasn't killed me yet. Or himself."
"Not with cooking, anyway," Gwen says, and she and Ianto share a knowing look.
"You know," Jack says, tapping a finger on the back of the couch, expression puckered. "Ianto said this was supposed to be about spending time with family and enjoying each other's company, but all the two of you have done since we got here is make fun of me. That doesn't really scream 'togetherness,' to me. In fact, I would go so far as to say you two are ganging up on me."
"Have to do something to keep your ego from taking over," Ianto mutters, but he discreetly brushes his hand against Jack's and hooks their pinkies together.
"Sorry, Jack," Gwen says. She leans over to kiss him soundly on the cheek. "We'll wait until tomorrow to go back to taking the piss out of you, yeah?"
"Don't, Mrs. Williams, make promises that you can't keep."
Her parents are laughing now, too, in an easy way that Gwen was afraid she wouldn't be able to capture. Everything is backwards at Torchwood, so bloody backwards. In the real world, holidays and domestics and family and togetherness are supposed to be easy. Well, not easy, but natural. Expected. It was hard to squeeze Torchwood into that mold, though, and while she wholeheartedly wanted Ianto and Jack to join her for Christmas, she had been wary of trying to fashion them into something they weren't, something they couldn't be.
She gratified to see that, if only for this one day, she was wrong.
"Dinner's about ready," Rhys says, his hand warm on the small of her back. "Let's eat."
Dinner isn't as awkward as she feared it might be. Jack entertains with ridiculous stories, even if they are slightly tamer than the stories that he normally tells over lunch. He graciously shares the stage with Rhys and her parents, who have stories of their own to tell, and even manages to ask insightful questions and laugh in all the right places. She'd say he was a perfect gentleman, but about halfway through dinner, his hand slips off the table and onto Ianto's thigh and Ianto gets very, very quiet. His cheeks flush in a way that can't just be attributed to the wine, and Gwen rolls her eyes and makes a note to chastise Jack about being lewd in front of her parents.
The food is wonderful--she expects nothing less from Rhys, who loves to cook, thank god. Afterward, even Jack lavishes him with compliments.
"Presents, then?" Gwen says.
"Yes," Ianto says. "You've got me curious."
"Had to do better than last year," Gwen admits.
"Don't be so hard on yourself," Ianto says. "Coffee is always a wonderful gift."
"The scotch was a bit of a misstep," Jack says. She thinks he's joking, but with Jack, it's hard to be sure.
"According to you," Ianto says. "I thought it was brilliant. I do think Gwen and I passed a lovely evening with it while you had buggered off."
Gwen frowns and prods through her memory. "I'm not sure I remember that," she admits.
"You wouldn't," Ianto says with a wink. That gets a laugh out of Rhys and her father, even as Jack's smile falters a bit. She takes his arm to lead him towards the tree in an attempt to rectify that, and is rewarded by his usual grin, which falls back into place easily enough.
Gwen's parents sit on the couch with Rhys. Jack and Ianto sit with their backs against the wall. Gwen sits across from them. She's a bit nervous and a bit curious, both, enough to distract her from Rhys' excited rambling about the pasta maker attachment that Ianto's given him. She catches something about ravioli and smiles supportively, even as she fidgets with the gifts on her lap. She takes a deep breath and hands the envelope to Jack and the small, square box to Ianto.
Sometimes Ianto and Jack surprise her, but the way that they open presents is about as fitting as she would imagine. Jack tears into his envelope without a second thought. Ianto seems to be peeling back every piece of tape individually. He's not even finished with the paper, then, when Jack turns to Gwen, quizzically, and says, "Um, what?"
Gwen feels her face heat up. "I... well, Ianto told me that--that your family, where you come from... you exchange good deeds."
Jack smiles slightly, his gaze drifting to Ianto and then back. "Sort of," he says. "But this is...."
"A vacation," Ianto says, leaning over Jack's shoulder.
It's Gwen's turn to say, "Sort of." She smiles, hesitantly, hoping she's done the right thing. "I talked to Martha. She said she'd be willing to come down for a weekend. If we know things will be quiet and we don't have much to do. You haven't taken a day off in as long as I've known you, Jack. I thought it would be nice to spend a day or two not having to worry about--you know. Work."
Ianto's still leaning over his shoulder. "Me too, eh? Well, that's all right, then." He smiles at Gwen, his hand brushing subtly over Jack's knee. Jack still looks gobsmacked.
"Thank you," he finally manages to say. "I... we'll need to talk about this." He glances over at Gwen's parents, who are trying not to look nosy as they open their own gifts. "At work."
"Of course," Gwen says, but Jack keeps looking down at the folded explanation in his hands, and she thinks maybe she's done a good job after all.
Ianto, however, still hasn't opened his gift. He's rummaging around in his bag and pulls out a package about the size of a shoebox. He hands it to her almost hesitantly.
"Something for you from me," he says.
"Thank you, love," she says. "Now open your bloody present before I go mad!"
He laughs, but finishes pulling the paper back. He quirks an eyebrow at her when he sees the black velvet box. So does Jack, who is watching the display eagerly, clearly just as impatient as Gwen. Gwen's not sure if Ianto is taking his time to annoy Jack or her or both of them, but it's certainly working on all counts.
He finally flips open the lid. He breaks out into an involuntary smile when he sees the contents of the box, and Gwen knows she did well.
"They're stunning, Gwen," Ianto says. He glances up at her and smiles. "Truly. You didn't have to do this."
"I did," Gwen says. "I saw them and you were all I could think about." She watches him touch the cufflinks almost hesitantly, before closing the box and slipping it into his pocket. He clears his throat, almost embarrassed, and gestures towards the box she's holding.
"Your turn," he says, and manages to remain dignified as he scoots across the floor to sit next to her.
She tears away the paper, surprised to find a plain white box. It's old, but light and taped closed tightly. She glances up at Ianto, who's smile is encouraging, if a little anxious. Around her, she can hear her mother talking animatedly about the sweater that Rhys is opening and her father making a comment to Jack about something mundane. She slips her fingers under the tape and pries it off of the box, lifting the top off to reveal crumpled newspapers. The date on the top page reads January 6, 1993, and she gives Ianto another questioning glance.
He's more anxious now, but says, "Go on," and gives her a small, genuine smile.
She lifts the newspaper away to reveal a simple silver star tree topper. It shines brightly, despite slight tarnish. One of the points of the star is bent. In the center is a clear glass ball with a tiny crack near the top. It's one of the most beautiful things Gwen has ever seen.
She looks up at Ianto, astonished. He's chewing his lip and offering her a weak smile.
"I thought," he says softly. "Well... it has history. And I know you like that. And I just thought... it should live on, yeah? Rhiannon doesn't want it. She never did. And I'm not--I don't want it to die with me."
"Ianto," she whispers. She can feel her eyes filling with tears, her throat getting hoarse. She doesn't know if she's crying for the tenderness of the gesture or the despair that comes with knowing how right Ianto is. She swallows again and again to dislodge the lump in her throat, but it keeps inching upwards anyway. She knows it's going to morph into a sob, and once it escapes she'll doesn't know if she'll be able to stop. She puts the star back in the box with shaking hands and moves the box to the floor. When she sits back up, she cups his cheek. He still looks unsure, and a distant part of her brain notices that everyone else has stopped talking. Everyone is staring at them.
"You're going to have a long life and a wonderful family, Gwen," Ianto says softly. "And it's a selfish gift, really, to give it to you because I want it to survive, but--"
"It's beautiful," she manages to say before she chokes on the sob and pulls Ianto towards her, burying her face in his shoulder and trying not to cry in earnest. His arms go up around her automatically, one hand gently rubbing her back. She doesn't know if she's ever loved him more than she does in this moment; all of the facets of his personality that make him so unique are coalescing at once. His practicality and compassion. His need to please. His love of tradition. His urge to take care of everyone. His love for her. She holds him more tightly, and when she can speak without sobbing, she says, "I got you cufflinks. You gave me this piece of your past, and I got you cufflinks."
"They're very nice," he insists, and she has to laugh. She straightens up and wipes at her eyes, her thumbs coming away stained grey from the mascara ruined by her tears.
"Thank you, Ianto," she says. It's inadequate, but it's all she can offer. She hopes it's enough.
"I should be thanking you," he says, but he's smiling the shy, awkward smile that breaks through in those moments that he can't believe that someone cares about him. It's not quite the shy, soppy smile that Jack gets, but it's close and it makes Gwen's heart soar.
"Nonsense," Gwen says. "This is a gift, Ianto, it really is."
"I know," Ianto says. "That's why I wrapped it." As jokes go, it's nearly sickly, but it does its job in breaking the tension. They both giggle, and Gwen glances around the room to see smiles on everyone else's faces, too. Well, her parents and Rhys, at least. Jack's expression is harder to pin down. It's wistful and amazed and so deeply loving that Gwen has to look away. She doesn't know if it's directed at Ianto or herself, but she has a niggling feeling that maybe it's for both of them.
"Well," Gwen says, clapping her hands together and trying to maintain her dignity despite her blotchy face and running mascara. "Let's hand out the rest of the gifts, shall we?"
It's not until later, when her mother is helping Rhys with the washing up and her father is packing things into the refrigerator and Jack and Ianto are crowded into the hall, just out of sight, slightly drunk and snogging like teenagers, that Gwen is able to steal a little time to look at her gift. She runs her fingers over the front and tries to picture a young Ianto, scrawny and boyish, doing the same thing. She thinks back to the day at the shop, tries to remember the rhyme that Ianto had half-heartedly recited to her, but it's just beyond the reach of her memory.
She's going to put it up anyway--no use bothering Ianto, really, and she's walked in on them snogging enough times to last her the rest of her life--when she feels a presence behind her.
"Oh, silver shining star / you'll guide us home where'r we are," Ianto says very softly into her ear. She puts it on the top of the tree and steps back, looking up at it. When Ianto's arm finds its way around her waist, she rests her head on his shoulder without looking up. They stand like that for a long time, and Gwen thinks maybe she shouldn't be so quick to write off miracles after all.
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Ianto, Gwen, canon pairings
Rating: PG
Length: ~7000
Summary: Gwen tries to make Christmas memorable, but it's Ianto who steals the show.
Notes: For neurotictealeaf for mistletw. Rachael, this isn't the story I wanted to write. Or, rather, it was half the story I wanted to write, but it took weeks of panicking and prodding to realize that the story I wanted was really two stories. This is the story of those two that fits your prompt (sort of.). I owe you a less scattered story, which I will just add to the long list of other things I owe you. You can expect it sometime before I die. Maybe. Anyway, I hope you like it, or are at least good at pretending.
Many, many, MANY thanks to solsticezero, who was man enough to tell me that my original idea was just not going to work the way I wanted to. Also, thanks for the quick fake-beta earlier today. ♥ Title (paraphrased) from "O Holy Night."
***
Ianto's holding up two ties for Gwen's perusal when their phones go off simultaneously. Maybe it's spending so much time with Ianto or maybe it's just her growing ire, despite the festive dressings of the season surrounding her, but Gwen rolls her eyes just as hard as Ianto does.
She touches her bluetooth before Ianto can put down either of the ties.
"Yes," she says before Jack can say anything, "We're fine, nothing's wrong, and everything is normal." Across the shop, she sees a woman arguing with a salesgirl over the price of a very fine shirt. "Well, as normal as shopping at the holidays ever gets."
There's silence from Jack's end of the line, then something that sounds like papers shuffling.
"Fine," Jack says, finally. She knows that if she could see him, he'd be pouting. "Just checking."
"We'll call you if anything comes up," she says, more kindly. She doesn't have to ask him to do the same; she knows he'll call every twenty minutes regardless.
"Fine," Jack says again. "I want you back here by two!"
"And we will be, if you stop interrupting!" Gwen says. She clicks off her bluetooth before Jack can respond.
Ianto is looking at her with his eyebrows raised, but the rest of his expression is neutral and guarded as always. He's still holding the ties.
"How is he?" Ianto asks.
Gwen shrugs. "Nervous. Grumpy. Put-out."
"Normal, then," Ianto concludes, and holds the ties out. "Come on. I already told you which one I liked. Gut instinct."
Gwen hesitates for another second before grabbing the black tie with the gold regimental stripe out of Ianto's hand. He hums in approval and helps her gather her purchases up and head towards the cashier.
It hadn't been as hard as Gwen thought it would be to wrangle an afternoon of shopping out of Jack. After two weeks from hell, the rift seemed to be gifting them with nearly four days of calm, culminating on Boxing Day. If Tosh's prediction algorithm was to be trusted, they were going to have a quiet Christmas. It was news that, for some reason, had sent Jack back into the overprotective smothering that she and Ianto had worked so hard to wean him out of after--well, after Tosh and Owen.
"We can never be too careful," Jack had said more than once in the past few days. "No technology is perfect. We need to be prepared."
Gwen was baffled. The first few weeks after Tosh and Owen had been hard, but eventually Jack backed off and let them out of his sight again. She hadn't expected this resurgence and it was hampering her holiday preparations.
"I think he's been thinking about them again," Ianto confessed one afternoon as they stood at the coffee maker, murmuring in soft voices while Jack did an autopsy down below. "Tosh's Christmas holiday request came up in the system the other day, and last Christmas, with John Ellis and Owen and Diane...." Ianto shrugged and stirred his coffee, leaning into Gwen when her hand snuck its way around his waist as they fell into a silence in the shape of their fallen colleagues.
The salesgirl is particularly frazzled by the time Ianto and Gwen inch their way up to her register. Gwen does her best to be patient and accommodating and cheerful, remembering the summers she worked at the ice cream stand and how horrible customer service can be. Ianto flirts with her a little as he pays for his own purchases--shirts for himself, not presents, in an effort to replace at least some of the clothing damaged over the past two weeks. She's smiling brightly at Ianto as he winks at her and takes his bags, and Gwen can't help nudging him with her elbow as they leave the shop.
"Jack's starting to rub off on you," she says. He just proves her point when he leers at her as he pulls the door open. She rolls her eyes. "Exactly. You two still coming round for Christmas dinner?"
They make their way, without discussion, to the coffee shop across the street. As they do, it's Ianto's turn to roll his eyes.
"Planning on it," he says, "but Jack is being... well...."
"Jack?" Gwen suggests. Ianto nods and holds the door for her.
"Nervous about being away from the Hub for the whole day, nervous about god knows what else. Excuses, all of it. We're all away from the Hub more often than not, these days. He'll be there all morning when I drop by Rhiannon's. I think he's afraid of something happening in front of your family. Trouble does seem to follow us."
Gwen can't argue with that.
"You are my family, love," she says. She doesn't need him to tell her that she's his, either. Ianto may have a sister and a niece and a nephew that he holds at arm's length, but blood doesn't make a family and he knows that as well as she does. It's their first year without Tosh and Owen, their first year without them after really coalescing as a team, after forging, for far too short a time, the substitute family they all yearned for. They need to stick together. She had hoped Jack would understand that, too.
"I'll get him there," Ianto promises. "Even if I have to fake a rift alarm. But I don't think it will come to that. I think he just needs to be reminded that...."
He trails off. Gwen cocks her head to the side, waiting for him to go on.
"It wasn't the end," Ianto finally says. "Like he said, right after it happened. The three of us, we're a beginning. A fresh start. And we still have each other."
Gwen takes his hand across the table, their fingers slotting into place around each other. Ianto's fingers are long and pale and narrow, cold from being out without gloves in the sharp December winds. They're still a comfort as his words sink in, as the loss that's always hovering in the back of her mind nips at her insides once again.
"I'll get coffee," he murmurs to her, squeezing her hand as he pushes his chair back and gets to his feet. "You decide the rest of our plan of attack."
She takes a moment to compose herself as Ianto gets on line, reorganizing her thoughts, shutting away the grief once again. She pulls a list out of her pocket and goes down it quickly. She's finished with her parents and now she's gotten Rhys done as well. She may have, in fact, over-bought for Rhys. Not only is it their first Christmas as a married couple, but it's Rhys' first Christmas knowing about Torchwood. She hadn't been able to stop herself from buying him all the things she had wanted to buy him last year but resisted out of fear that he'd ask where the money came from.
Ianto's been finished longest of all--over a month ago, it was, that she stumbled across the beautiful antique cufflinks in a shop near her flat while she was ducking out of a particularly brutal thunderstorm. She bought them on the spot. She's incredibly proud of herself for keeping mum about them for this long.
That leaves just one person, and Gwen is completely at a loss for what to get him. When Ianto comes back with their coffee, she's still tapping her list against her lips thoughtfully.
"Did you get Jack anything for Christmas?" she asks when Ianto raises his eyebrows at her. He grins wryly at the question.
"Jack and I aren't quite that conventional," Ianto says. "But I... yes. I have done something for him."
"Done something?" Gwen asks. She smirks over her coffee mug. "This isn't going to end up like the birthday marmalade incident, is it?"
She will never stop being surprised that after years of being around Jack, Ianto Jones still has the capacity to blush.
"Not like that," Ianto says quickly. He twirls the end of his coffee stirrer between his fingers, something like indecision coloring his expression. "Jack told me--there's a holiday like Christmas, where Jack comes from." Gwen abruptly understands Ianto's indecision. While he is more than happy to tell tales about the things Jack does in bed or Jack's ridiculous antics outside of work, stories about Jack's personal life are another matter. They're different. Treasured. Jack divulges so little about himself that every small morsel is a gift wrapped in layers of trust.
"It's not surprising, really," Ianto continues. "Every culture on Earth has a festival of lights as the days get shorter. It should stand to reason that cultures on other planets would do the same. Anyway, instead of exchanging material gifts, people exchange... he had a word for it. He said the best English translation would be 'good deeds.' They do something kind for their loved ones with no expectation of reciprocation." He rolls his shoulders and looks up at her with a smile that's almost shy. "So I've done something for him. I... I think he'll like that. It's not like he needs anything."
"Oh, Ianto," she says softly, reaching over and taking both of his hands in hers. "I know he'll love it." She squeezes his fingers and smiles when he squeezes back.
"He has a pocket watch," Ianto says, clearly emboldened. "I think he's had it since the turn of the century. The twentieth century, that is. It's been broken at least as long as I've known him, but he's very fond of it. He still wears it. I asked him why he hasn't just had it fixed. He says he never finds the time. So, I fixed it."
"You fixed it?" Gwen asks. "Yourself?"
Ianto shrugs. "I've picked things up here and there," he says.
"And fixing watches just happened to be one of those things?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.
"One of the first," he says. He takes a sip from his coffee with a smirk, and Gwen can tell that the conversation is over. Sometimes she wonders how much of it is Ianto playing things close to the chest and how much of it is a finely crafted air of mystery. Sometimes, Ianto and Jack are far too much alike.
"So, then," she says, the first morsel of an idea for Jack's gift rolling around in her mind. "I'm just about through. You're done with Jack. Do you need to stop anywhere else while we're out?"
Ianto shakes his head. "I've already got something for Rhiannon. I got Mica and David an XBox along with some books, because they bloody well are going to learn some culture somewhere and it's certainly not going to be from that uncultured proletarian she married."
Gwen can't hold in her laughter and she winces as she feels the coffee burning her sinuses as it makes an effort to shoot out her nose.
"Oh my god," she says once she's stopped coughing, "Ianto, that is the snottiest thing I have ever heard you say, and that includes all those cracks about Jack's table manners and wardrobe."
Ianto turns his nose up slightly, though he seems at least half amused. "Are you calling me a snob?"
"We all already know you're a snob, darling," Gwen says. "I'm just saying you're usually a bit more subtle about it."
He rolls his eyes and says, "Well, I had gotten something for you, but maybe I'll just keep it for myself."
She kicks him under the table and they share a smile over their coffee. "Shall we pick up lunch for Himself on our way back?"
"It's probably a good idea," Ianto says. "Otherwise he might try to eat something leftover in the fridge, and while I know he'll survive it, food poisoning can't be a good way to go."
They finish their coffee in companionable silence, while Gwen wonders, idly, what it is that Ianto's gotten her. She can't remember saying anything specifically, but then, she wouldn't need to. Ianto always knows what she wants, practically before she knows herself. She wonders, sometimes, where he learned that intuition, if it was something he forced himself to learn while attempting to hide Lisa or if it was something he had always known.
What she really wants, she thinks, as she watches the cheerful patrons around them and the smiling faces passing on the street, is for Ianto to smile like this every day. She wants him to come to terms with his past and embrace his future, specifically his future with Jack--however long or short it turns out to be. She wants him to accept that he's allowed to have good things in his life and accept that Jack isn't going anywhere. She wants him not to walk on eggshells all the time, not to be afraid of opening himself up to them.
But she can hardly ask for that. And she can't expect him to change so abruptly. No, that would be a Christmas miracle, and she's learned, since coming to work for Torchwood, that miracles are one realm of the supernatural that can't be relied on.
"You just about done?" she asks him when their coffee cups are empty and Ianto is contemplating the the door to the coffee shop with a frown. He sighs and looks back to her, a half smile on his face.
"Yes," he says. "Might as well brave the great outdoors."
He graciously picks up her bags along with his own and they deposit their trash in the bin on their way back out onto the street. It's colder than it looks, the wind sharp and bitter and making Gwen wish she had remembered to bring her hat. Now that she has an idea for Jack, she's through with her shopping and Ianto seems to be too, so she's surprised when he takes her hand in his free one and pulls her into a store adorned with Christmas decorations.
"One of the strands of fairy lights in the tourist office isn't working," he explains as the door jinglejangles closed behind them. "I've been meaning to pick up some replacements. I could probably find the fuse and replace that, but...."
"Easier to just buy new ones?" Gwen guesses.
"Well, yes," Ianto says. "Have you ever tried to pull those little bulbs out to check the fuses? Bloody destroys your fingertips." He squeezes her fingers and then drops her hand, wandering over to a display of Christmas lights in every color. Gwen shakes her head fondly and pokes around the shop a bit, waiting for the inevitable inspection of different brands, prices, and aestetic value of each type of light.
It's the sort of shop that sells tourist knick-knacks during the summer and seasonal crap the rest of the year. The shelves are full of snow globes of Father Christmas and wooden nutcrackers. Ornaments hang from the walls on metal hooks and from the boughs of the fake Christmas trees that seem to take up most of the available floorspace.
Gwen is shaking her head again, when the star on the top of one of those trees catches her eye.
It isn't exactly the type she's looking for--too modern, too bright and colorful. She doesn't think she'll find the type of star she's in search of in such a modern, gaudy shop, but it doesn't hurt to look.
That's where Ianto finds her, ten minutes later. He's holding a box of standard white fairy lights and lays a hand on her shoulder to get her attention.
"Sorry," she says. "I was just...."
"Looking for something?" he suggests.
"Sort of," she admits. "I didn't think I'd find it here."
She watches his gaze slip over the angels and stars and bows on the shelf in front of her.
"Tree-topper?" he asks. "Any particular kind?" His fingers reach out and adjust the hem of an angel's skirt.
"No," Gwen says, blushing a little. "Yes. I don't know." All he has to do is raise an eyebrow in question and she launches into the story. "When I was a girl, it was my job to put the star on top of the tree. My favorite part of decorating for the holidays. It was an old star--I think it had been my grandmother's--and it just looked so classic and beautiful. Mum always said I could have the star when I moved out on my own, but my Dad accidentally dropped it I was seventeen. It was mostly glass and didn't survive and...well, I've never been able to find something to replace it. I know that whatever I get will become it's own tradition, but I can't quite let go of the old one yet. Seems stupid, I know, but...." She shrugs and smiles sheepishly. She can't quite read the expression on Ianto's face. It's gone distant and acute. It's certainly not the fondly dismissive laugh she was expecting.
"I know what you mean," he says quietly, and that's definitely unexpected. "When I was a kid, my mum and I had something similar. Our own little ritual of putting up the star. It was the very last thing and she used to lift me up to put it on top. We'd say this stupid rhyme. 'Oh, silver shining star / you'll guide us home where'r we are.' Stupid, really, but it was something that was just ours, not Rhi's, not Dad's. Anyway, after she--well, my dad never took to it. After, he didn't bother putting the star on top at all, no matter how much I asked. It's one of the only things I took from the house when I left."
Even more rare than a moment from Jack's past is one from Ianto's. Gwen doesn't quite know what to say. She settles for wrapping her arm around his waist until he looks normal again and clears his throat.
"Lunch for Jack, then," he says. His ears are pink. She wishes she could get him to accept that there's no reason for shame about who he is or where he's come from. That, of course, would take another Christmas miracle.
"He mentioned the new Chinese place near the bay," Gwen says. "And I'm craving shrimp a bit."
"Sorted, then," Ianto says. "Let me just pay for these and we'll be on our way, yeah?" Gwen nods, retreating from the half embrace. She's surprised when Ianto hesitates, then turns back to her and cups her face in his free hand, kissing her cheek firmly. "Thanks for that," he says, and flees to the cashier before Gwen knows what's happened.
She watches his back, rubbing her thumb gently over her cheek. Christmas miracle indeed.
***
Gwen is able to put off Christmas fretting until the clock chimes eleven and she still hasn't heard from Jack or Ianto.
"Relax, love," Rhys says when she starts pacing the short length of the kitchen again. "You said it yourself--Ianto's over for breakfast with his sister. I'm sure he'll call you as soon as he's done."
"It would just be good to know if they're coming," Gwen says. If Jack's coming, really, because Ianto will come no matter what. Ianto will come because Gwen asked him, even if it means being apart from Jack for the holiday. Ianto doesn't break promises lightly.
"I'm sure they are," Rhys says. He musses her hair gently and she scowls at him as she raises a hand to straighten it. Jack and Ianto aside, her parents will be here any moment and she'd like to look put together and in charge for her first adult Christmas with her parents.
As if on cue, the door buzzes. Gwen fixes her hair a little more frantically and rushes to buzz her parents up to the flat.
It's a flurry of hellos and hugs and bringing things up from the car. Gwen had told her parents that she and Rhys are adults and don't need any actual gifts, but that has never stopped her father before and she doubts it ever will. She had also told her mother that she (well, Rhys) has the food under control and her mum needn't bring anything, but that has never stopped her mother, either. There are at least three desserts and two side dishes and Rhys just sighs with resignation and shifts plates to make room for them on the counter.
The last time she saw her parents was the wedding, an event that they don't entirely remember, though they hide it well. That was a lesson she learned from Jack, one that she and Ianto have gathered he learned from his Doctor. When faced with a large, but precise loss of memory, people will agree to nearly anything you tell them they did. Still, it means it's been even longer than since she really, properly talked to them and she feels like she has loads to share, even if she can't technically talk about most of her life. She shares stories about her life with Rhys and carefully watered down, carefully edited versions of work stories while Rhys puts the finishing touches on dinner. She barely notices the time until her mobile starts buzzing on the table in front of them. Her heart soars, though she tells herself that it's just as likely that Ianto is calling to tell her Jack's staying home as it is that he's calling to say they're on their way.
"Happy Christmas, Gwen!" Ianto says cheerfully when she picks up.
"Happy Christmas, sweetheart," she replies. He sounds far too happy for Jack to be staying home and she relaxes back into the chair, grinning and nodding at Rhys, who's looking at her questioningly from the kitchen.
"Jack and I will be by in about thirty minutes," he says. "We have to change. There was a small Weevil problem."
"Did you get it sorted, then?" she asks. "You know you could have called."
"It was fine," Ianto insists. "Jack, get your hand out of--stop that!--Um, it was fine, we handled it. We'll see you soon, yeah?"
"Wonderful. I'll tell Rhys," she says. She can hear Jack in the background, murmuring something about slime, and then Ianto's exasperated sigh followed by the disconnect. "They'll be here in a bit," she tells the room at large. She can't keep the grin off of her face, which she knows is the reason Rhys doesn't roll his eyes and make some comment about spending Christmas with Jack. Her husband, her wonderful, patient, indulgent husband understands the complicated mess that her life has become, her affection for Ianto, her complex relationship with Jack, and the deep, heavy pain they've all carried with them since the loss of Tosh and Owen. He still doesn't entirely trust Jack, but he trusts her and he trusts Ianto and he knows that the bond between the three of them is something that none of them can quite put into words.
"These are your work mates, then?" her father asks. Gwen nods, still grinning.
"Jack and Ianto," she says. Then adds, "You remember, from the wedding?" Because even if they don't remember, they've seen the few salvageable wedding photos, including the one of her dancing with Ianto while Jack and Rhys have a conversation in the background that neither of them has ever actually been able to fully explain to her.
"Of course," her mother says, but she frowns a little, and Gwen feels a jolt of guilt for the little white lie. Well, that one, and the rest she's bound to tell tonight. Starting right now, actually.
"They work Special Ops with me," she reminds her parents, "so we can't exactly talk about work. If they start to see weird or like they're not quite telling you everything...." She shrugs. "It's better that you don't know. We've seen some pretty nasty things."
Her parents both nod in quick agreement and she wishes, for one moment, that she could tell them about her life, really tell them about it. It passes quickly--she wasn't lying when she told Jack she didn't want her parents to remember how terrible her job was. Better that their focus is on their beautiful, mundane lives out in Swansea.
Conversation is less easy after the phone call--Gwen finds herself filled with anxious energy. Because Ianto was right--they are something of a magnet for trouble, especially when the three of them are together. Additionally, she can't help but be nervous about the gifts she's chosen. Last year, she had only been working at Torchwood for a handful of months before Christmas. She'd gotten Ianto coffee beans and Jack a bottle of scotch--impersonal, last minute gifts picked up when she realized she had presents for Tosh and Owen and nothing for the rest of the team.
Her parents seem unsure of what to expect, as well.
"So, these friends of yours," her father says. "Jack and Ianto. They're, ah... both blokes?"
Gwen nods, absently, wondering what woman her father has ever met with the name "Jack" or "Ianto."
"And they're... well, are they... you know," her father continues.
This time, Gwen does look up.
"A couple," her mother says quickly. "It's fine if they are, of course. We were just curious. You never mention your old friends anymore, and I was telling your father that frequently, when a couple get married, they start to spend more time with couple friends and--"
Gwen manages to cut her mother off before the comic horror she's feeling can show itself on her face. She hears Rhys snort from the kitchen and knows that he has a thing or two to say about Jack and Ianto being their "couple friends." He manages, thankfully, to keep his thoughts to himself.
"Yes," Gwen says quickly to her parents. "Yes, yes, they're a couple. Or, well--I wouldn't use the word 'couple' around Ianto. It tends to make him a bit peaky. But they're--yes." She wants to explain further, to describe that it's more than being a couple, that it's some bizarre, convoluted bond, that Ianto would die for Jack, even though that's hardly necessary, and that Jack has died for Ianto again and again and again. She wishes she could make them understand the web of love and loyalty and duty that's so thick and twisted around them that it's managed to snare Gwen and Rhys as well.
She can't explain ant of it, though, if only because she doesn't quite understand it herself, most days. Instead, she forces a smile, lets her mother envision a campy couple right out of a sitcom, and waits patiently for their arrival.
The door buzzes almost exactly thirty minutes after Ianto's phone call. Ianto has a key and Jack, of course, can use his wrist strap to get in anywhere, but she appreciates the warning. She buzzes them up and waits at the door, fidgeting just slightly until she hears the knock on the door itself.
Ianto and Jack are standing behind the door, and something inside of Gwen unfurls when she sees them. She gestures them inside.
"Happy Christmas, boys," she says, kissing them on the cheek in turn as they come inside. Ianto is carrying a shopping bag full of wrapped gifts. Jack is carrying a large, covered serving platter. "I told you that you didn't need to bring anything," she says, smacking Ianto's arm.
"Don't look at me," Ianto says. "I'm perfectly happy to let someone else figure out what we're eating for once. He insisted."
Jack flashes her a charming smile, and for the first time, she looks past the platter and realizes--
"Jack?" she asks. "Are you wearing a jumper?"
Jack's blinding smile immediately turns into a frown.
"I don't understand why you people think this is a big deal," he says.
"It's not a big deal," Gwen says quickly, although it kind of is. She can't remember the last time she saw Jack in anything other than one of his various blue shirts. Sometimes, he wears a waistcoat. She's certainly never seen him in a bright red wool jumper. "I was just surprised." She's about to offer to take his coat, but Ianto has already slipped it from his shoulders and is now standing awkwardly in the living room holding Jack's coat, his own, and the bag of gifts. Gwen rolls her eyes and takes the bag from him. "You two and that coat."
"It's a nice coat," Ianto says defensively. "Bedroom?"
"Ooo, this party is already picking up," Jack says with a leer. Ianto rolls his eyes.
"I'm sorry, Gwen, he's been like this all morning. I think Father Christmas brought him back his sense of humor. It's tragic, really." Ianto disappears around the corner and then reappears almost as quickly, wiping his hands on the thighs of his trousers. It looks like he's wearing one of his usual suits, minus the jacket and tie. He looks much younger than usual. It's a good look for him.
"You two remember my parents, don't you?" she asks, laying a hand on Ianto's shoulder and gesturing towards where her parents are sitting in curious silence.
"Of course," Ianto says. He offers his hand to her father for a shake, and then kisses the back of her mother's hand. She can already tell that her mother is thoroughly charmed, as if Gwen had any doubt. Ianto can put anyone at ease. "It's lovely to see you both again."
"Mum, Dad, you remember Ianto and Jack." She makes sure to gesture to each of them in turn, as if there can be any question of who is who with Jack's sharp, American accent and Ianto's pale, Welsh complexion.
"Happy Christmas, Mr. and Mrs. Cooper," Jack says, mirroring Ianto's actions with the brilliant smile he uses on strangers and witnesses. Her mother is thoroughly charmed by Jack in a different way. Her father is a bit more cautious.
"Nice to see you gentlemen again as well," her dad says. He's subtly sizing them up, pinning them with an unreadable stare. For once in what could possibly be Jack's entire long life, he doesn't posture, puff up, or leer. He stands casually, the platter still balancing on one arm, and smiles politely. After an endless moment, her father smiles back. Gwen feels something inside of her unclench. Ianto, too, has relaxed, as if he's no longer afraid the ceiling is going to come crashing down on him.
Rhys makes his way over from the kitchen, drying his hands on a tea towel.
"Happy Christmas, mate," he says, clapping Ianto on the back.
"And a Happy New Year, Rhys," Ianto says. "Jack brought...." He trails off and raises his eyebrows at Jack. "Something," he finally says. Jack just smiles and hands the platter to Rhys.
"It's for dessert," he says.
"You made it?" Rhys asks suspiciously. Jack looks slightly put out.
"Yes," he says. "I can cook."
"He just chooses not to," Ianto says smoothly.
"I cook for you all the time!" Jack protests. Ianto's incredulous expression is unwavering. "I cook for you sometimes. I cook for you about once a week...if we're not busy...or I'm not tired...." Ianto smiles, satisfied, and nods at Rhys.
"He can cook," he confirms. "At least, he hasn't killed me yet. Or himself."
"Not with cooking, anyway," Gwen says, and she and Ianto share a knowing look.
"You know," Jack says, tapping a finger on the back of the couch, expression puckered. "Ianto said this was supposed to be about spending time with family and enjoying each other's company, but all the two of you have done since we got here is make fun of me. That doesn't really scream 'togetherness,' to me. In fact, I would go so far as to say you two are ganging up on me."
"Have to do something to keep your ego from taking over," Ianto mutters, but he discreetly brushes his hand against Jack's and hooks their pinkies together.
"Sorry, Jack," Gwen says. She leans over to kiss him soundly on the cheek. "We'll wait until tomorrow to go back to taking the piss out of you, yeah?"
"Don't, Mrs. Williams, make promises that you can't keep."
Her parents are laughing now, too, in an easy way that Gwen was afraid she wouldn't be able to capture. Everything is backwards at Torchwood, so bloody backwards. In the real world, holidays and domestics and family and togetherness are supposed to be easy. Well, not easy, but natural. Expected. It was hard to squeeze Torchwood into that mold, though, and while she wholeheartedly wanted Ianto and Jack to join her for Christmas, she had been wary of trying to fashion them into something they weren't, something they couldn't be.
She gratified to see that, if only for this one day, she was wrong.
"Dinner's about ready," Rhys says, his hand warm on the small of her back. "Let's eat."
Dinner isn't as awkward as she feared it might be. Jack entertains with ridiculous stories, even if they are slightly tamer than the stories that he normally tells over lunch. He graciously shares the stage with Rhys and her parents, who have stories of their own to tell, and even manages to ask insightful questions and laugh in all the right places. She'd say he was a perfect gentleman, but about halfway through dinner, his hand slips off the table and onto Ianto's thigh and Ianto gets very, very quiet. His cheeks flush in a way that can't just be attributed to the wine, and Gwen rolls her eyes and makes a note to chastise Jack about being lewd in front of her parents.
The food is wonderful--she expects nothing less from Rhys, who loves to cook, thank god. Afterward, even Jack lavishes him with compliments.
"Presents, then?" Gwen says.
"Yes," Ianto says. "You've got me curious."
"Had to do better than last year," Gwen admits.
"Don't be so hard on yourself," Ianto says. "Coffee is always a wonderful gift."
"The scotch was a bit of a misstep," Jack says. She thinks he's joking, but with Jack, it's hard to be sure.
"According to you," Ianto says. "I thought it was brilliant. I do think Gwen and I passed a lovely evening with it while you had buggered off."
Gwen frowns and prods through her memory. "I'm not sure I remember that," she admits.
"You wouldn't," Ianto says with a wink. That gets a laugh out of Rhys and her father, even as Jack's smile falters a bit. She takes his arm to lead him towards the tree in an attempt to rectify that, and is rewarded by his usual grin, which falls back into place easily enough.
Gwen's parents sit on the couch with Rhys. Jack and Ianto sit with their backs against the wall. Gwen sits across from them. She's a bit nervous and a bit curious, both, enough to distract her from Rhys' excited rambling about the pasta maker attachment that Ianto's given him. She catches something about ravioli and smiles supportively, even as she fidgets with the gifts on her lap. She takes a deep breath and hands the envelope to Jack and the small, square box to Ianto.
Sometimes Ianto and Jack surprise her, but the way that they open presents is about as fitting as she would imagine. Jack tears into his envelope without a second thought. Ianto seems to be peeling back every piece of tape individually. He's not even finished with the paper, then, when Jack turns to Gwen, quizzically, and says, "Um, what?"
Gwen feels her face heat up. "I... well, Ianto told me that--that your family, where you come from... you exchange good deeds."
Jack smiles slightly, his gaze drifting to Ianto and then back. "Sort of," he says. "But this is...."
"A vacation," Ianto says, leaning over Jack's shoulder.
It's Gwen's turn to say, "Sort of." She smiles, hesitantly, hoping she's done the right thing. "I talked to Martha. She said she'd be willing to come down for a weekend. If we know things will be quiet and we don't have much to do. You haven't taken a day off in as long as I've known you, Jack. I thought it would be nice to spend a day or two not having to worry about--you know. Work."
Ianto's still leaning over his shoulder. "Me too, eh? Well, that's all right, then." He smiles at Gwen, his hand brushing subtly over Jack's knee. Jack still looks gobsmacked.
"Thank you," he finally manages to say. "I... we'll need to talk about this." He glances over at Gwen's parents, who are trying not to look nosy as they open their own gifts. "At work."
"Of course," Gwen says, but Jack keeps looking down at the folded explanation in his hands, and she thinks maybe she's done a good job after all.
Ianto, however, still hasn't opened his gift. He's rummaging around in his bag and pulls out a package about the size of a shoebox. He hands it to her almost hesitantly.
"Something for you from me," he says.
"Thank you, love," she says. "Now open your bloody present before I go mad!"
He laughs, but finishes pulling the paper back. He quirks an eyebrow at her when he sees the black velvet box. So does Jack, who is watching the display eagerly, clearly just as impatient as Gwen. Gwen's not sure if Ianto is taking his time to annoy Jack or her or both of them, but it's certainly working on all counts.
He finally flips open the lid. He breaks out into an involuntary smile when he sees the contents of the box, and Gwen knows she did well.
"They're stunning, Gwen," Ianto says. He glances up at her and smiles. "Truly. You didn't have to do this."
"I did," Gwen says. "I saw them and you were all I could think about." She watches him touch the cufflinks almost hesitantly, before closing the box and slipping it into his pocket. He clears his throat, almost embarrassed, and gestures towards the box she's holding.
"Your turn," he says, and manages to remain dignified as he scoots across the floor to sit next to her.
She tears away the paper, surprised to find a plain white box. It's old, but light and taped closed tightly. She glances up at Ianto, who's smile is encouraging, if a little anxious. Around her, she can hear her mother talking animatedly about the sweater that Rhys is opening and her father making a comment to Jack about something mundane. She slips her fingers under the tape and pries it off of the box, lifting the top off to reveal crumpled newspapers. The date on the top page reads January 6, 1993, and she gives Ianto another questioning glance.
He's more anxious now, but says, "Go on," and gives her a small, genuine smile.
She lifts the newspaper away to reveal a simple silver star tree topper. It shines brightly, despite slight tarnish. One of the points of the star is bent. In the center is a clear glass ball with a tiny crack near the top. It's one of the most beautiful things Gwen has ever seen.
She looks up at Ianto, astonished. He's chewing his lip and offering her a weak smile.
"I thought," he says softly. "Well... it has history. And I know you like that. And I just thought... it should live on, yeah? Rhiannon doesn't want it. She never did. And I'm not--I don't want it to die with me."
"Ianto," she whispers. She can feel her eyes filling with tears, her throat getting hoarse. She doesn't know if she's crying for the tenderness of the gesture or the despair that comes with knowing how right Ianto is. She swallows again and again to dislodge the lump in her throat, but it keeps inching upwards anyway. She knows it's going to morph into a sob, and once it escapes she'll doesn't know if she'll be able to stop. She puts the star back in the box with shaking hands and moves the box to the floor. When she sits back up, she cups his cheek. He still looks unsure, and a distant part of her brain notices that everyone else has stopped talking. Everyone is staring at them.
"You're going to have a long life and a wonderful family, Gwen," Ianto says softly. "And it's a selfish gift, really, to give it to you because I want it to survive, but--"
"It's beautiful," she manages to say before she chokes on the sob and pulls Ianto towards her, burying her face in his shoulder and trying not to cry in earnest. His arms go up around her automatically, one hand gently rubbing her back. She doesn't know if she's ever loved him more than she does in this moment; all of the facets of his personality that make him so unique are coalescing at once. His practicality and compassion. His need to please. His love of tradition. His urge to take care of everyone. His love for her. She holds him more tightly, and when she can speak without sobbing, she says, "I got you cufflinks. You gave me this piece of your past, and I got you cufflinks."
"They're very nice," he insists, and she has to laugh. She straightens up and wipes at her eyes, her thumbs coming away stained grey from the mascara ruined by her tears.
"Thank you, Ianto," she says. It's inadequate, but it's all she can offer. She hopes it's enough.
"I should be thanking you," he says, but he's smiling the shy, awkward smile that breaks through in those moments that he can't believe that someone cares about him. It's not quite the shy, soppy smile that Jack gets, but it's close and it makes Gwen's heart soar.
"Nonsense," Gwen says. "This is a gift, Ianto, it really is."
"I know," Ianto says. "That's why I wrapped it." As jokes go, it's nearly sickly, but it does its job in breaking the tension. They both giggle, and Gwen glances around the room to see smiles on everyone else's faces, too. Well, her parents and Rhys, at least. Jack's expression is harder to pin down. It's wistful and amazed and so deeply loving that Gwen has to look away. She doesn't know if it's directed at Ianto or herself, but she has a niggling feeling that maybe it's for both of them.
"Well," Gwen says, clapping her hands together and trying to maintain her dignity despite her blotchy face and running mascara. "Let's hand out the rest of the gifts, shall we?"
It's not until later, when her mother is helping Rhys with the washing up and her father is packing things into the refrigerator and Jack and Ianto are crowded into the hall, just out of sight, slightly drunk and snogging like teenagers, that Gwen is able to steal a little time to look at her gift. She runs her fingers over the front and tries to picture a young Ianto, scrawny and boyish, doing the same thing. She thinks back to the day at the shop, tries to remember the rhyme that Ianto had half-heartedly recited to her, but it's just beyond the reach of her memory.
She's going to put it up anyway--no use bothering Ianto, really, and she's walked in on them snogging enough times to last her the rest of her life--when she feels a presence behind her.
"Oh, silver shining star / you'll guide us home where'r we are," Ianto says very softly into her ear. She puts it on the top of the tree and steps back, looking up at it. When Ianto's arm finds its way around her waist, she rests her head on his shoulder without looking up. They stand like that for a long time, and Gwen thinks maybe she shouldn't be so quick to write off miracles after all.