New Year's at the Palace - Day 2.2 (of 3) - The Party
Note: OK, so apparently writing two term papers in two weeks has caused my brain to go loopy. I've been writing Westminster Palace when I should have been writing Buckingham Palace. Mea culpa...I tried to figure out a way to use Westminster Palace that wouldn't seem like a total cop-out, but to no avail. So, from now on our dear TW boys will be partying at Buckingham Palace. Don't ask me why I didn't write Buckingham from the start.....Anyway, here's the the next installment. Only one more to go.
Rating: 18 for this part (not sex yet, just mentions of what Jack plans to do. But it is Jack, of course. You have been warned!)
After successfully navigating the complex world of the manicure (filing and buffing and smoothing, oh my!) and convincing Jack to let the hair stylist actually trim his hair (and damn if Ianto didn't hear tiny little sniffles as the strands were cut. He'd occasionally peek back at Jack, but everytime he'd look, Jack'd smile lopsidedly and look away. He never actually caught Jack crying, and he figured it'd be best not to tease him yet. He did want sex that night, after all, and Jack was definitely sensitive about his hair), Ianto took a long bubble bath while Jack hunted Owen down for a quick talk. He'd been practicing The Talk on Ianto all afternoon, trying to find something to tell Owen that would break the medic out of his downward, depressing cycle without Owen actually trying to kill him. Ianto knew that whatever Jack would tell Owen would have no impact whatsoever. A bit of Owen still blamed Jack for Katie, and now, after loosing Diane too, the last thing Owen needed was a quick 'buck up' from the leader of Torchwood. Ianto wasn't entirely sure what it was the Owen needed, but it wasn't Jack.
Ianto smirked as he heard the hotel room door slam open and shut. He slid further into the large tub, catching the occasional curse from Jack. When the bathroom door burst open, he lazily turned his head and opened an eye.
"I take it The Talk went well?" he asked innocently.
"Dont even start!" Jack began, pacing back and forth and running a hand through his hair. "Just don't! He's gotta get his head out of his ass and start being my doctor again! We can't take another Weevil Fight Club!"
"Let me guess what happened?" Ianto began. "You took him to a roof, knowing full well he didn't like heights, which made him uncomfortable from the start. Then you proceeded to tell him about all the people you'd loved and lost and that you couldn't give up on life because Earth needed you as the last defense between it and total annihilation. You then told him that you understood and that you cared about him, but that he couldn't give up either. Am I right?"
Jack stared at Ianto, mouth agape. "Uh, basically. It was a bit more poetic than that."
Ianto snorted. "I just bet."
Jack's posture stiffened, his back ramrod straight and his lips in a thin line. "And just what was wrong with what I told him?" he demanded.
"Nothing at all," Ianto assured him. "Nothing at all, if the conversation was meant to be about you. But it wasn't. It was supposed to be about him getting the help he needs. You were supposed to show him that you cared about him and were worried about him. It really doesn't help for you to turn the conversation back around to your needs."
Jack sighed and slumped onto the toilet. "I can't...I don't know how to help him."
Ianto eased himself carefully out of the tub and wrapped a warm hotel towel around his waist. He was definitely stealing a few of these for his secret stash in the Hub. Everyone else used those cheap ones; hardy and easy to replace, but they were hell on one's skin. These hotel towels? Oh these were so going in that special cubboard where he hid the dark chocolate Hobnobs and that organic, fair trade, Guatemalan blend. He padded over to Jack and put a hand on the other man's knee.
"Face it Jack," he said softly. "You can't fix him. He doesn't want you to fix him."
"So what do we do?" Jack asked, just as softly.
Ianto smiled. "Oh thank god. You're finally asking for help. It's possibel the Earth will implode."
"Ianto..." Jack warned.
"Let me talk to him. I'm the only one he can talk to."
"What do you mean?"
"He's fucked Gwen, so she's out. Tosh likes him, which freaks him out. You...well you're just you, so you're out. Unless Myfawny learns to use those vocal cords in any way other than screeching, I'm all that's left."
"Fine. When?"
"Tonight, if he's up for it. Tomorrow maybe. Don't you dare say anything to him, and don't push it. Last thing he needs is to feel cornered."
Jack smiled and ran a hand through Ianto's damp curls. "Is it just me, or did I miss a chance to have you in the tub? All bubbly and wet and slick?"
Jack stood and pulled Ianto against his chest, his hands running beneath the towel to finger Ianto's damp entrance. He pushed in, just a bit, rubbing himself against Ianto's towel-clad front.
"I could have you right now," he murmured against Ianto's neck. "Right here, fresh from the bath. Bet I wouldn't even need any lube either."
Ianto tilted his head and nipped at Jack's ear. He sucked on Jack's neck, just below where the starched white collar would cover.
"Have me now," he begged. "Please have me."
Jack shuddered as Ianto caressed his erection through his trousers. It took all his willpower to push Ianto away.
"No," he said gruffly. Ianto's eyes, dilated and dark with need almost made him give in. "Tonight. At midnight. Can't keep her Majesty waiting and all."
Ianto huffed and turned to get dressed. "Why is it that whenever you want something, it's a quick trip to the stationary cupboard. But when I want a quickie, it's 'No, sorry, Ianto. The Queen's waiting.' Bugger the Queen."
"'Cause I'm the boss. And you'd better not bugger the Queen. Last thing we need is for her to bite you and you to become a werewolf."
Ianto paused and turned to Jack skeptically. "Are you telling me the Queen's a werewolf?"
"A bit, yeah. Runs in the family," Jack said as he shrugged.
Ianto rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. I'll believe that the day I believe your prick was once sentient."
"Hey!" Jack protested loudly, "That was a long time ago and I was infested with a symbiot. Not my fault it picked my little head to inhabit!"
"It was a strategic choice," Ianto muttered. "It needed the place you thought with."
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Despite living in London for some time, Ianto had never done the whole tourist-y stuff, quite ironic for someone who now manned a tourist information centre. It had taken some time to convince Owen to actually come out of his hotel room (liberal dosing of guilt for standing up the elusive Maria seemed to do the trick), but he'd finally managed to shepherd both Jack (still fussing over his slightly-shorter hair) and Owen (suprisingly not yet drunk) to a waiting cab. He kept his eyes shut during the ride, not wishing to actually see London, to see the streets where he and Lisa and all his friends from Canary Warf had walked and laughed and drank. The earlier walk through the park had been more than enough, practically more than he could handle, and if he hadn't already RSVP'd for the party, he'd have stayed in the hotel room, cocooned in the warm and sticky darkness that was a night with Jack Harkness.
Instead, he was standing in the one of the many reception rooms at Buckingham Palace, wearing a black tuxedo and waiting (im)patiently in line to bow and shake Her Majesty's hand. Life in Cardiff meant he'd grown tired off all the pomp and circumstance of offical visits. He shifted back and forth until Jack cuffed his ear.
"Take it easy," Jack said, fingering his bowtie. "Is this thing straight? I could never get them straight. Why couldn't I wear a clip on? Clip ons are always straight."
"Yeah, Tea-Boy," Owen piped up. "You should have gone before we left. And it's fine, Jack. Fuck, why are you so nervous?"
"I admire her," Jack said solemly. "When everyone else left London during the Blitz, her family stayed. She even helped out with the war effort. And besides, she decided to spend the holidays in London when all her advisors said she should go to Newport after last year's Sycorax. She and the family are A-positive you know; almost died that night. Staying here's like giving the finger to any alien who tries to invade."
"Hush," Ianto said. "Don't you dare jinx us. All we need is for some alien to invade tonight. Gwen and Tosh are all on their own."
"Oh good lord, let's just shake her hand and get on with the party!" Owen moaned.
Ianto reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a small flask. "Venusian whisky. Came through the Rift a few weeks back. Was saving it for midnight, but go ahead."
Owen grabbed the flask and stared at it lovingly. "I take back everything I ever said about you, Jones. You're not a tight-ass prick. You are a god!" He quickly unscrewed the top and took a few sips.
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Once the formalities had been taken care of, the party began. It was unlike any New Year's party Ianto had ever been to. The ones as a kid, well, he didn't remember bits of them, but that was understandable. Still, the parts he did remember were defintely good. And the one he'd gone to at Canary Warf had ended with him and Lisa and their first drunken snog in a closet. Of course, she'd been snogging the Head of Payroll and he's been snogging the girl from three desks over, but then his girl had twisted around to throw up and he'd jumped backwards to avoid her. Wound up slamming into Mr. Birches and knocking over an entire row of coats. Still, he'd jumped into the pile of coats to get to his girl, but wound up with a nice handful (two, actually) of Lisa Hallet. He hadn't been disappointed. The owners of the coats weren't best pleased, but he offered to pay for the dry cleaning. At least, he thought he'd offered. It seemed like something he'd do. Everything after that was a bit hazy until he woke up on a park bench in front of the Eye, Lisa next to him, wrapped in a stolen coat and asleep under his arm. She bught him chips after that.
This party, though, was a bit...well...staid... would be a good word. Oh, everyone was nice enough, but it was a bit like going to one's grandmother's. You had to dress nice, stay clean, and be on your best behavior. As an observer of people, he could tell who was secretly planning to hook up later that night, just by watching people glance at one another (that Mr. Saxon was an interesting character. He had a pretty little wife, but kept looking at woman over by the pink floral arrangement. Gave Ianto the creeps, he did.), but no one made any moves as long as the Queen was there. As usual, Jack was the center of attention, a shining beacon of laughing sexuality drawing in everyone like a flame draws a moth. That Saxon again, now he was watching Jack. And was that a sneer? Had Jack slept with his wife? With Jack, it was a possibility that he'd slept with Saxon himself. Or both of them.
Ianto noticed with a smirk that the one person Jack had yet to charm was the Queen herself. She'd stayed away from Jack the entire night, casting diaspproving glances in his direction, as a mother would to a naughty child. Still, Ianto had made nice, and even received an invitation to come and visit Her antique car collection the next time he was on holiday.
The one person Ianto couldn't see was Owen. He'd watched when Owen had approached a pretty woman early on, presumably this Maria he was talking about, all nerves and jitters. Only to watch in sad realization as Maria held out her hand and showed off a (rather ostentacious) wedding ring. Owen lifted his chin, practically in defiance to the universe itself, and had quickly excused himself. Ianto hadn't seen him in a long time.
Just as Ianto was preparing to go and look for his wayward colleague, he was cornered by his former boss, Henry Hathaway. Mad-Hatter Hathaway, they'd called him, only because they couldn't think of anything that fit how much they despised him. Besides, Mad-Hatter Hathaway was a nice bit of alliteration, and Ianto's Tad had taught him to always respect the English language. Except at home, of course, when the English language was outlawed. Welsh only thank you. If the Saes government wants to kill their language, they'll have to bloody well- - Ianto made himself stop that train of thought and refocus onf Hathaway as the heavyset man ambled closer. Just as he remembered, then. Henry'd made it out of the Tower completely unscathed and unscarred, because he'd ran towards the Secure Archives and triggered an emergency lockdown. Without waiting for any of the others, of course. While Ianto had been helping his friends get out and going back in to find Lisa, Henry'd been twiddling his thumbs, safe in the meter-thick, reinforced walls with an emergency generator and an air replenishing system. UNIT crews found him later, asleep.
It took some time, but Ianto finally excused himself out of necessity. He couldn't talk to Hathaway anymore. He could barely contain his rage at seeing the other man. That man and his smirk, thinking he was so better than everyone else in the Department, saying over and over again just how bad it was to be a survivor, how much he needed the psychological services Torchwood provided free of charge, how he'd used the post-Battle money they'd all been given to buy himself a villa in Santorini. As Ianto stood there, he could just feel the burn scars seering into his back, he could hear the screams, could smell the fire. Hathaway must have noticed how pale he'd gone, as he offered Ianto the last of his drink.
"No, thank you Sir," Ianto muttered. "I just...I just need some air." Ianto stepped to the side and practically ran to the doors leading to the garden.
"Bit to much o'the whisky, eh, boy?" Hathaway called after him, loud enough for the Queen herself to turn around.
Ianto ran onto a large patio. His hands wouldnt' stop shaking. He could feel the tremors going up his arms. Soon, soon, his entire body would just fall apart, he knew it would happen. He'd just keep shaking and he couldn't breathe, and he couldn't think, and oh god he was in London!
He jumped as he felt someone grab him.
"Easy Tea-Boy," Owen said, tightening his grip on Ianto's biceps. "Deep breaths. In and out, yeah? In and out. That's it. Use your nose."
"O-Owen?" Ianto said, blinking. "What are you doing out here?"
"Me? I should ask you the same question," Owen said, rolling his eyes. "I've been out here for a while. Here I am, smoking this lovely cigarette that blond bimbo Saxon's married to gave me, and you come running out here, practically hyperventilating. What happened, Jack get randy in front of the Queen?"
Ianto shook his head. "No. Sorry. Just...memories, I guess."
Owen dropped his hands and looked at Ianto critically. "How are the nightmares? You haven't asked for a sedative refill lately."
Ianto took a deep breath and stepped away, wrapping his arms around his middle. He looked back at Owen defensively.
Owen just rolled his eyes. "Still your doctor, dumbass. And if you've been getting refills off the street 'cause you're too embarrassed to ask me for 'em-"
"I"m not!" Ianto said defensively. "Haven't need them, is all."
Owen smirked and stepped into Ianto's personal space. "Got Jack for that eh? He keeps the bad dreams away with his own special brand of therapy? A wittle bottoming for our wittle Ianto chases the nightmares away?"
Ianto looked Owen dead in the eye. "Who says it's me on the bottom?" He sauntered closer to Owen. "Wanna give it a go?"
"In your sad wet dreams, Tea-Boy. Only in your sad wet dreams." Owen stepped back to stand by the wall. He handed Ianto the flask. "Go ahead. You look like you could use some too."
Ianto picked it up and swirled it around. "Owen, it's practically full. I expected-"
Owen snorted. "I know what you expected. You expected me to drink the whole damn thing, didn't you? Just sit out here in the cold and be poor, alcoholic Owen. Maybe I'd do a few hits and then go out on the pull?"
Ianto shrugged. "Seems like your idea of a good night."
"You have no idea," Owen muttered. "Seriously, no idea at all. Half the stories I tell? Complete bollocks."
Ianto stood by Owen's side. "Why are you telling me this?"
Owen gestured out to the stars. "I proposed to Katie on New Year's. Then an alien from out there gets in her head and kills her. Not exactly my favorite holiday, yeah? And you? You're here, in a place that terrifies you - no, don't deny it, I saw you pack the sedatives before we left, you're getting ready for some major nightmares - so you're here, and your Lisa died twice. Diane left me, so that makes us 2 to 2. We're even. Or maybe it's just that you were the one who'd stepped outside. Maybe I'd've told anyone."
"Seeing as how you seem to be in a confessional mood, can I ask you something?"
Owen shrugged as he sipped the whiskey.
"Even if half the stuff you say is a lie, why do you go out on the pull so often?"
"Why'd you start sleeping with Harkness?"
"At first?" Ianto asked. He bit his lip as he thought. "To forget, I supposed. Lisa was there, but when he was fucking me, I could forget she was down there. Sounds horrible, but one confession deserves another."
Owen nodded. "Same for me. I go out, fuck a girl till she forgets her name. Makes me forget. Tell you something though, between you and me and if you tell anyone, I will literally kill you, sometimes I still call out Katie's name. I pick girls that look like her. Now that's sick huh?"
Ianto turned to actually look at Owen. His face was pinched and drawn, and even in the pale light filtering out from the party, Ianto could see the dark circles under his eyes. He took a deep breath.
"If you want someone to pity you, it won't be me. You find a girl that looks like your dead fiancee and you fuck her so you can keep your dead fiancee alive for another night. You might have some wierd form of necrophilia."
Owen snorted.
Ianto continued as he thought the puzzle out. "No," he said slowly. "Wait. It's not necrophilia. She's a Torchwood case, right? Which means she'd be in the Torchwood vault?" He glanced at Owen, shocked at the pain in the doctor's face.
"Oh god. You go to work and she's literally still there. You go out to forget that she's there."
"Jack -" Owen started, his voice cracking. "Jack won't tell me which drawer. He even encrypted her file. I can't - I can't even say goodbye. I never tell them goodbye"
Ianto took a deep breath. No one should have to live and work over the corpse of their fiancee. It was just wrong. "Tell you what," he began. "I can't promise anything. Really, I can't. But give me a few days when we get back. Maybe - maybe Jack'd let you cremate her or something. There has to be - I won't let it stay like this."
"Why would you do this?" Owen asked brokenly.
Ianto sighed. "Because there's times that I hate you. I mean, really hate you. Times I just want to take one of the pistols and just ram it in your face to get you to shut up. But you're part of my team. And no one should have to- It's just wrong, Owen. I'll do what I can to fix this, I promise."
Owen chuckled softly. "Never thought I'd say this, but thanks Tea-Boy." He risked a glance towards the ballroom door. "You'd better get going before Sir Sex-a-Lot decides to have you in the shrubbery. He's starting to get antsy, and you know what happens when he gets antsy."
Ianto turned around and laughed. There, standing just on the other side of the glass door, was Jack, rocking back and forth on his heels, and glancing at his watch every few seconds.
"Yeah, I do. Last time that happened we sent that Jor'nalian Ambassador home pregnant."
"Still not convinced it wasn't Jack's," Owen muttered.
"Jack just started the orgy. Jor'nalian's and humans aren't compatible anyway. The acid they secrete during sex kills any sperm. Destroys the skin on the -"
"So don't want that image in my head," Owen said, pushing Ianto towards Jack. "Just - just go away. Now. Before I puke."
Ianto turned around once more to face Owen. "I mean it, Owen. I'll do everything I can."
For a moment, Owen just watched Ianto. Then he smiled sadly. "Yeah. Whatever. Go get laid. You better not wake me up with any screaming, Jones."
"What makes you think I'm the screamer?" Ianto smirked as he walked away.
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When Ianto pushed the glass door open, Jack pulled him forward. He cupped Ianto's face and looked deep into his eyes.
"Everything ok?" he asked.
Ianto nodded. "Have to talk to you about something work related tomorrow, Sir. But everything's fine for now."
Jack sighed. "Good. Lizzie's gone to bed, which means we can get out of here."
"Already? I was just starting to enjoy it."
"Yeah? Well picture this. You, me, fireworks, a king-sized bed with silk sheets. Those handcuffs you like, wrapped around your wrists, tying you to the bedpost. I coat my fingers with that lube you like so much, stretching you nice and deep, my hand up your ass, my mouth on your cock, and then-"
"Stop," Ianto said breahtlessly. "Just-just stop. Hotel now please, Sir."
"Oh yeah," Jack said, leering and steering Ianto towards the exit. "You are so calling me that in bed."