Fic: Career Choices (8/10)
Title: Career Choices
Author: rev02a
Rating: R
Warnings: Language, violence, sexual commentary
Beta: comestodecember (who is still ill and we still feel bad for...)
Pairings: Jack/Ianto, past Jack/John, Owen/Tosh, Gwen/Rhys
A/N: AU. What moron invented eggnog? Gross, I say.
Summary: As John Hart’s music agent, Jack Harkness is slowly killing himself with work. A chance romance with a local café owner could be the spark he needs to take control of his life.
Part Seven
Six weeks later
Opening a coffee shop was serious business. Jack had no clue. When he had begun to badger Ianto into reopening Myfanwy’s, Ianto had been slow to agree.
On their third day since their abrupt move to Cardiff, they’d been walking the Plass. In the middle of the multiple shops was a space to let. Ianto had looked at the square footage, the amenities, before turning to Jack with a quizzical face.
“Were you serious about being my coffee shop manager?”
And so The Hub was opened.
Jack had helped carry sofas and coffee bean roasters. He had interviewed possible employees and laundered aprons. He had spell-checked beverages for Ianto to transcribe onto the drink list. He had learned to bake scones.
And then he’d been completely overwhelmed by the entire experience. In its favor, however, the coffee shop had brought Ianto back to him. Perhaps it was the fresh start or all the work to be done, but The Hub had revived Ianto.
Jack knew, for sure, that things were on their way to being mended when Ianto came home one night bearing a bouquet of red roses.
“I’ve been a complete prat,” Ianto began, offering the flowers. “I am so sorry.”
Jack smiled indulgently and kissed Ianto within a breath of his life. “Can we have make up sex then?”
And Ianto had laughed.
Jack was won over anew. He sometimes felt like he followed his partner around like a lovesick puppy. Ianto would roast and boil and bake, all while commanding his shop like a well-oiled machine. Jack would just take the orders and smile lovingly at the other man. Their employees and regulars teased.
Jack didn’t care.
The bell over the shop door had survived Myfanwy’s fire and still dinged pleasantly when the door opened.
At its chime, Jack looked up. Aaron and Harriet, their employees, were squabbling over who would make this round of drinks and who would take their break. Jack made the decision for them both.
“Tosh!” he yelled, and jumped clear over the counter.
Toshiko giggled like a little girl when Jack swung her up in his arms. “Hello, Jack,” she greeted breathlessly.
“Less of that, mate, if you don’t mind,” Owen Harper sniped from Jack’s side. Jack offered his hand and the two men shook.
Jack was baffled by the doctor’s comment. Then it caught on. “Tosh, aww… no, not him?” And he cocked his thumb in Owen’s direction.
Tosh blushed. “He’s clever. You know how I fall over myself for boys like that.”
“Oi!” Owen snapped, annoyed. “I was a boy about twenty years ago. I assure you that none of me is boy sized-“
“Except maybe your height,” Ianto teased as he joined the trio. He hugged Owen and kissed Tosh’s cheek. “Good to see you again.”
“Can we get you a coffee?” Jack asked with exuberance.
“Down boy,” Ianto ordered, touching Jack’s shoulder.
“What is that baking? It smells amazing,” Tosh asked, leading the men to the till.
“Cinnamon coffee cake. Would you like a slice?” Ianto asked, walking around the counter.
“It’s not good without coffee,” Jack teased when Tosh nodded.
“Get me the usual, Doctor Tea Boy!” Owen yelled as he claimed a table for the four friends.
Conversation flowed easily and then Ianto made a decision.
“Aaron! Harriet! Close out the till and let’s call it a day.” He smiled. “It’s a beautiful evening. Why waste it?”
Aaron didn’t hesitate; grabbing a rag, he began to clean off the tables.
“Perfect! We’re in town for a record party. I want you both to come,” Tosh invited, swirling the dregs of her coffee.
Jack fidgeted and wracked his brain for an excuse.
“Would this party require Jack to get dressed up?” Ianto asked innocently.
“Oh, yes,” Tosh agreed. “Very smart: tuxedo quality.”
Ianto’s eyes glazed over as he apparently fantasized about Jack in a tuxedo.
“I guess that settles that,” Jack grumbled. “What time?”
“The whole thing begins at seven, but you know these music industry people. The real party won’t begin until ten or eleven,” Tosh answered, rolling her eyes.
“It won’t be a late one,” Jack interrupted, “we have a shop to open bright and early.”
Tosh shrugged. “Sure, whatever. I just wanted to see you both. Shall we meet at the St. David’s at eight?”
Ianto nodded and then excused himself to help close up.
The party was just like every other record party Jack had ever been to. The real stars hadn’t arrived just yet, but it didn’t seem to bother Ianto. He had dug out what Jack had dubbed his “cute suit” for the occasion and had spent the entire ride to the hotel avoiding Jack’s groping hands.
He, on the other hand, had continuously found reasons to touch Jack. “Your tie isn’t straight” or “you have fuzz on your shoulder.” Jack wasn’t buying it. He wasn’t complaining either.
Owen accepted a glass of champagne from the waiter and tugged at his collar. “I hate these things.”
Ianto shrugged and accepted the flute that Jack had procured for him. Behind them there was a commotion at the door. Tosh gasped.
John Hart, looking strung out, waltzed into the party. Every bit of him screamed rock star-leather trousers, silk shirt, and too-sharp cheekbones. He had clearly lost weight, but not in a healthy way. Instead of looking trim, he looked emaciated. Jack remembered the same look when their five-year relationship had gone down in flames.
John had a naïve blonde on his arm. She looked around the room with wide eyes and giggled.
John grabbed a bottle of champagne from the waiter and took a long swig from it. He offered the bottle to the girl. She grasped the bottle with both hands and her eyes widened in surprise as she drank.
John looked at her in disinterest before scanning the room. Next to Jack, Ianto had stilled. He gripped Jack’s arm unconsciously.
“Let’s go,” Jack ordered and set his champagne down on a nearby table. Ianto merely nodded and followed suit.
John had seen them already, however, and tugging his girl along behind him, made his way over to them.
“Jack! Jack Harkness!” John stood too close to Jack and grinned like a predator with cornered prey. “You let me get the answering machine last time. Who knew? Me? Getting the machine!”
People were beginning to stare. Tosh shifted uncomfortably, and Owen puffed up visibly. The blonde on John’s arm squirmed.
“John,” she whispered, loudly. She seemed to be confused on what to do with the giant bottle in her hands. “You said you were going to give my demo to people.”
John looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. He whipped around.
“Harold!” he yelled. A man in a suit turned and looked at John with a very over the top “who-me?” “Harold Saxon this is… Suzie? Mercy?”
“I’m Lucy!” the girl protested.
“Right, like I said. Lucy. She wants to be a star. I’m sure you can help her.” He shoved Lucy at Harold. He turned back to Jack without another thought to the girl.
“We were just leaving,” Ianto spat. “Busy morning tomorrow.”
“Oh? Doing what exactly?” John asked, reaching out to trace his finger down Ianto’s cheek.
Ianto hastily stepped back. Jack locked eyes with John.
“We’re happy here, John. Leave us alone,” he growled.
“Yeah,” John said with a sarcastic laugh, “I heard you opened a coffee shop again. Don’t leave anything burning this time, huh?”
It was the final straw for Jack. He grabbed Ianto’s hand and the two men headed for the door.
John ran after them. “You two should come back to mine. Just like old times, Jack, we can share Eye Candy here. Yummy.”
Ianto turned, startled, as Jack wasted no time in punching John. “Stay the fuck away from us,” he commanded in a low growl.
The taxi ride home was tense. The red light was off, but even knowing that the cab driver couldn’t hear them wasn’t enough reason to loosen Ianto’s lips on the topic. Jack worried that Ianto would slip back into that dark hole he was in a month before. Ianto gazed out the window as Cardiff drifted by before he met Jack’s gaze in the reflection.
“We should go dancing,” he offered. “We’re already dressed.”
Surprised, Jack laughed. “Any other time, babe, I’ll swing you around the dance floor. God, people would be so jealous of me I’d have to carry a gun.”
Ianto faced him in the taxi suddenly. “You own a gun, right?”
Jack’s brow knit. “Yeah, sure, why?”
Fear glinted in Ianto’s eyes, but only for a moment. “He burned Myfanwy’s. He might up his ante this time.”
Jack shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, Ianto. Nothing will come of this.”
Part Nine
Author: rev02a
Rating: R
Warnings: Language, violence, sexual commentary
Beta: comestodecember (who is still ill and we still feel bad for...)
Pairings: Jack/Ianto, past Jack/John, Owen/Tosh, Gwen/Rhys
A/N: AU. What moron invented eggnog? Gross, I say.
Summary: As John Hart’s music agent, Jack Harkness is slowly killing himself with work. A chance romance with a local café owner could be the spark he needs to take control of his life.
Part Seven
Six weeks later
Opening a coffee shop was serious business. Jack had no clue. When he had begun to badger Ianto into reopening Myfanwy’s, Ianto had been slow to agree.
On their third day since their abrupt move to Cardiff, they’d been walking the Plass. In the middle of the multiple shops was a space to let. Ianto had looked at the square footage, the amenities, before turning to Jack with a quizzical face.
“Were you serious about being my coffee shop manager?”
And so The Hub was opened.
Jack had helped carry sofas and coffee bean roasters. He had interviewed possible employees and laundered aprons. He had spell-checked beverages for Ianto to transcribe onto the drink list. He had learned to bake scones.
And then he’d been completely overwhelmed by the entire experience. In its favor, however, the coffee shop had brought Ianto back to him. Perhaps it was the fresh start or all the work to be done, but The Hub had revived Ianto.
Jack knew, for sure, that things were on their way to being mended when Ianto came home one night bearing a bouquet of red roses.
“I’ve been a complete prat,” Ianto began, offering the flowers. “I am so sorry.”
Jack smiled indulgently and kissed Ianto within a breath of his life. “Can we have make up sex then?”
And Ianto had laughed.
Jack was won over anew. He sometimes felt like he followed his partner around like a lovesick puppy. Ianto would roast and boil and bake, all while commanding his shop like a well-oiled machine. Jack would just take the orders and smile lovingly at the other man. Their employees and regulars teased.
Jack didn’t care.
The bell over the shop door had survived Myfanwy’s fire and still dinged pleasantly when the door opened.
At its chime, Jack looked up. Aaron and Harriet, their employees, were squabbling over who would make this round of drinks and who would take their break. Jack made the decision for them both.
“Tosh!” he yelled, and jumped clear over the counter.
Toshiko giggled like a little girl when Jack swung her up in his arms. “Hello, Jack,” she greeted breathlessly.
“Less of that, mate, if you don’t mind,” Owen Harper sniped from Jack’s side. Jack offered his hand and the two men shook.
Jack was baffled by the doctor’s comment. Then it caught on. “Tosh, aww… no, not him?” And he cocked his thumb in Owen’s direction.
Tosh blushed. “He’s clever. You know how I fall over myself for boys like that.”
“Oi!” Owen snapped, annoyed. “I was a boy about twenty years ago. I assure you that none of me is boy sized-“
“Except maybe your height,” Ianto teased as he joined the trio. He hugged Owen and kissed Tosh’s cheek. “Good to see you again.”
“Can we get you a coffee?” Jack asked with exuberance.
“Down boy,” Ianto ordered, touching Jack’s shoulder.
“What is that baking? It smells amazing,” Tosh asked, leading the men to the till.
“Cinnamon coffee cake. Would you like a slice?” Ianto asked, walking around the counter.
“It’s not good without coffee,” Jack teased when Tosh nodded.
“Get me the usual, Doctor Tea Boy!” Owen yelled as he claimed a table for the four friends.
Conversation flowed easily and then Ianto made a decision.
“Aaron! Harriet! Close out the till and let’s call it a day.” He smiled. “It’s a beautiful evening. Why waste it?”
Aaron didn’t hesitate; grabbing a rag, he began to clean off the tables.
“Perfect! We’re in town for a record party. I want you both to come,” Tosh invited, swirling the dregs of her coffee.
Jack fidgeted and wracked his brain for an excuse.
“Would this party require Jack to get dressed up?” Ianto asked innocently.
“Oh, yes,” Tosh agreed. “Very smart: tuxedo quality.”
Ianto’s eyes glazed over as he apparently fantasized about Jack in a tuxedo.
“I guess that settles that,” Jack grumbled. “What time?”
“The whole thing begins at seven, but you know these music industry people. The real party won’t begin until ten or eleven,” Tosh answered, rolling her eyes.
“It won’t be a late one,” Jack interrupted, “we have a shop to open bright and early.”
Tosh shrugged. “Sure, whatever. I just wanted to see you both. Shall we meet at the St. David’s at eight?”
Ianto nodded and then excused himself to help close up.
The party was just like every other record party Jack had ever been to. The real stars hadn’t arrived just yet, but it didn’t seem to bother Ianto. He had dug out what Jack had dubbed his “cute suit” for the occasion and had spent the entire ride to the hotel avoiding Jack’s groping hands.
He, on the other hand, had continuously found reasons to touch Jack. “Your tie isn’t straight” or “you have fuzz on your shoulder.” Jack wasn’t buying it. He wasn’t complaining either.
Owen accepted a glass of champagne from the waiter and tugged at his collar. “I hate these things.”
Ianto shrugged and accepted the flute that Jack had procured for him. Behind them there was a commotion at the door. Tosh gasped.
John Hart, looking strung out, waltzed into the party. Every bit of him screamed rock star-leather trousers, silk shirt, and too-sharp cheekbones. He had clearly lost weight, but not in a healthy way. Instead of looking trim, he looked emaciated. Jack remembered the same look when their five-year relationship had gone down in flames.
John had a naïve blonde on his arm. She looked around the room with wide eyes and giggled.
John grabbed a bottle of champagne from the waiter and took a long swig from it. He offered the bottle to the girl. She grasped the bottle with both hands and her eyes widened in surprise as she drank.
John looked at her in disinterest before scanning the room. Next to Jack, Ianto had stilled. He gripped Jack’s arm unconsciously.
“Let’s go,” Jack ordered and set his champagne down on a nearby table. Ianto merely nodded and followed suit.
John had seen them already, however, and tugging his girl along behind him, made his way over to them.
“Jack! Jack Harkness!” John stood too close to Jack and grinned like a predator with cornered prey. “You let me get the answering machine last time. Who knew? Me? Getting the machine!”
People were beginning to stare. Tosh shifted uncomfortably, and Owen puffed up visibly. The blonde on John’s arm squirmed.
“John,” she whispered, loudly. She seemed to be confused on what to do with the giant bottle in her hands. “You said you were going to give my demo to people.”
John looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. He whipped around.
“Harold!” he yelled. A man in a suit turned and looked at John with a very over the top “who-me?” “Harold Saxon this is… Suzie? Mercy?”
“I’m Lucy!” the girl protested.
“Right, like I said. Lucy. She wants to be a star. I’m sure you can help her.” He shoved Lucy at Harold. He turned back to Jack without another thought to the girl.
“We were just leaving,” Ianto spat. “Busy morning tomorrow.”
“Oh? Doing what exactly?” John asked, reaching out to trace his finger down Ianto’s cheek.
Ianto hastily stepped back. Jack locked eyes with John.
“We’re happy here, John. Leave us alone,” he growled.
“Yeah,” John said with a sarcastic laugh, “I heard you opened a coffee shop again. Don’t leave anything burning this time, huh?”
It was the final straw for Jack. He grabbed Ianto’s hand and the two men headed for the door.
John ran after them. “You two should come back to mine. Just like old times, Jack, we can share Eye Candy here. Yummy.”
Ianto turned, startled, as Jack wasted no time in punching John. “Stay the fuck away from us,” he commanded in a low growl.
The taxi ride home was tense. The red light was off, but even knowing that the cab driver couldn’t hear them wasn’t enough reason to loosen Ianto’s lips on the topic. Jack worried that Ianto would slip back into that dark hole he was in a month before. Ianto gazed out the window as Cardiff drifted by before he met Jack’s gaze in the reflection.
“We should go dancing,” he offered. “We’re already dressed.”
Surprised, Jack laughed. “Any other time, babe, I’ll swing you around the dance floor. God, people would be so jealous of me I’d have to carry a gun.”
Ianto faced him in the taxi suddenly. “You own a gun, right?”
Jack’s brow knit. “Yeah, sure, why?”
Fear glinted in Ianto’s eyes, but only for a moment. “He burned Myfanwy’s. He might up his ante this time.”
Jack shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, Ianto. Nothing will come of this.”
Part Nine