Doctor Who Fic: Broken Promises (4/?)
Title: Broken Promises
Chapter 4 of ?: Gains and Losses
Author: silverlunarstar
Beta: A million billion thanks to my dear fogsblue (ya'll can also thank her for continually pushing me to finish this)
Character/Pairings: 10/Rose- John/Marion, Timothy Latimer, Rocastle
Rating: Adult (I BLAME YOU ALL. YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE.)
Genre: Romance/Angst/Drama
Words: 5,635
Disclaimer: I claim no ownership.
Summary: In order to protect their baby boy, the Doctor and Rose dropped him off at a 24-hour daycare in Cardiff circa 1984, thinking it only a temporary measure, that they'd be back for him before he knew it. Things go very wrong. (Also a mini-Human Nature/Family of Blood rewrites.)
Author's Note: This fic sprung forth thanks to a prompt for the doctor-rose-fix Spring Fling Fixathon made by mahmfic. I APOLOGIZE FOR TAKING SO LONG WITH DELIVERING THIS CHAPTER. Manni left me for awhile and it took some time for the fickle muse to come back. ALSO. If you are under 18 and/or do not want to read smut, go ahead and read the PG-13 version here. (I'll be back with the link once I've posted it on ff.net.) It drove me crazy, but I mostly got it fixed.
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"Just give me a moment, Timothy; I know I left that book here somewhere," a somewhat distracted John said as he searched through the piles of tomes lying around haphazardly.
"I don't think Miss Jones was expecting me back anytime soon," the boy answered lightheartedly. It was strange, he thought; he'd never gotten so well with a teacher or anyone else, for that matter, before. Now he had two adult confidants. He suspected Mr. Smith would never have stood up for him the way he had, had Miss Jones not been here, but she was and that's all that mattered. When Timothy wasn't helping Miss Jones in the library, talking about his family or what he wanted to do in the future, he was helping Mr. Smith grade papers and having conversations about every subject they could think of. While still a shy boy, Timothy had grown a bit more confident and ignored the teasing with more ease. He frowned as he thought he heard something, but the history teacher was still scouring through a pile in silence.
John fought down a blush when he heard what his student said. (Really, he'd blushed more often in the past few weeks than in his last thirty-four years.) He had no doubt Marion knew by now that he wasn't the most…organized person around.
As he waited for his teacher to find the book, Timothy looked around the room. It seemed as if most of the place had bound paper on every available surface; he was quite sure a second library could easily be made here. Timothy smiled in amusement as he thought that his history teacher and the librarian were simply made for each other. Suddenly, something glistening caught his eye. He approached the fireplace and extended a hand as the whisper he'd been hearing in the back of his mind grew louder. He touched the golden fob watch and stared at it oddly, not only because he could hear a voice whispering from within (he was sure it was coming from the watch, though he couldn't fathom how that was possible), but also because he found it peculiar that Mr. Smith would have such a feminine watch. It looked old, so it could be a family antique, maybe his grandmother's, but the well-polished look made it seem new. Even the strange etchings didn't have the faded look they should… Timothy dropped it and backed away, his eyes wide as he heard ‘My Doctor, protected from the false god,’ whispered clearly into his mind.
"Here we are!" exclaimed an oblivious John. He'd finally found the last book that belonged in the library. He and Marion had brought in most of the books he'd borrowed from the school back into the library a couple of weeks ago, but he was sure they weren't all of them. He was proved right when he kept finding a random book here and there. Usually John would take them to the library himself (a pathetic, but legitimate, excuse), but he was swamped with students' papers and really couldn't waste another minute, much as he'd love to. Turning to Timothy, he noticed the boy's already pale complexion turn slightly grey. "Tim? Mr. Latimer."
His head snapped towards Mr. Smith.
"Are you alright, Timothy?" he asked, concerned. He didn't look well; perhaps he should have him sit down while he called for Matron Redfern…
"Y-yes sir, quite alright."
John looked at him suspiciously, but the boy was old enough to know if he needed to seek help when his health declined. "Alright, but I'm sure a spot of tea will do you some good. Seems to be about the time Mar- Miss Jones would have hers." He walked the fireplace and picked up the fob watch to check the time, but something distracted him. "I'm sure she wouldn't mind if…you joined her." He shook his head, placing it back where it was. "Please tell her if she's still here past dark to come find me so I can walk her home." John knew if he didn't at least send word, the stubborn woman would go off alone. She'd done it once before and he'd been worried all night until he saw her the next day. Upset that she hadn't told him he had confronted her and her temper had reared, but Marion had calmed down once she realized he wasn't trying to control her; he'd simply been worried. From then on John made sure she knew he was always available to take her home.
"Of course sir." He took the books he'd come for and did everything in his power not to run off. Just as he exited the room, Timothy could swear he heard a wolf howling in sync with the flash of golden light he saw in his head. When he arrived at the library, he was grateful to see it empty. Miss Jones had most likely gone with Jenny to help her with tea; the headmaster was not going to be happy if he heard about it (granted, he'd only heard about the first time and the librarian had since then been a lot more discreet).
Timothy placed the books on a table, checked them off Miss Jones' list, and got to putting them in their rightful places. Once he was done, he started organizing the piles of papers Miss Jones had scattered on the desk. They weren't that many, but…Timothy stared at the object he found underneath the paperwork. That…was quite the coincidence. However, he quickly changed his mind once he heard whispering. He'd always heard them in the library, but had been able to ignore them, thinking them to be the same whispers he always heard when he was around people; he'd thought they were simply stray thoughts. However, this voice was quite distinctive, just like the voice from the other fob watch had been. This one, which he assumed belonged to Miss Jones, belonged to a male and definitely looked old.
‘My pink and yellow Rose,’ it whispered as he picked it up from underneath the desk, ‘must keep her safe at all costs. We have to hide; they can’t find us. If they find us…’ Horrible images surged through his mind and Timothy saw what would happen to those who dared harm the Oncoming Storm's golden goddess.
"Hello Timothy! You're just in time for tea!" Marion announced cheerfully when she noticed the boy once she'd entered the library.
Startled, he dropped the watch onto the desk.
"Oh!" Marion had been putting the tray of tea down when she heard something clatter. She turned and her eyes widened she checked her apron pocket, but felt nothing there. "I can't believe I didn't notice it missing."
"I-it was under the desk, Miss. It must have fallen while you were going over the records." Timothy observed the librarian carefully as she grabbed the watch.
She looked at the watch in reverence, but then her eyes glazed over and she absentmindedly put it back into her pocket. "Come now, Timothy. We could do with a rest; let's have some tea."
"Yes Miss." Whoever Marion Jones and John Smith were, they were definitely not of this world. The presence in the woman's watch felt ominous and dark, but warmth was in its voice as he spoke of keeping Rose safe; Rose, who looked a lot like Miss Jones, had to be kept safe no matter what. The same applied for the voice who had spoken of protecting the Doctor; it would do everything in its power to protect him from harm. Whatever was following the two, he hoped it never reached Farringham.
---
John Smith and Marion Jones were taking a walk in town this brisk afternoon. The cold had settled in about a week back and it wasn't as warm as it had been when John first arrived two and a half months ago. He was entertaining Marion with a tale of his troublesome students trying to pull one over him this morning, basking in her smile as she turned to face him. Suddenly, something caught his eye and he saw it. The woman pushing her baby in the pram, the piano a few men were lifting, and what would happen if someone didn't stop it. It ran across his mind in a millisecond; John acted before he could fully comprehend what was going on.
Marion whirled around, following his line of vision as his voice trailed off. She gasped and her leg muscles tensed, ready to sprint forward to help, when a cricket ball shot off just as the rope that was being used to lift the piano ripped. The ball hit a set of pipes and they landed on a plank of wood that then sent a brick soaring into a container, and impeding the woman's path. The piano crashed down and the woman screamed, but she and her infant were safe. Sparing John an incredulous glance, Marion dashed off to comfort the woman who was close to hysterics.
John watched as she calmed the mother down and made sure neither of the workers blamed one another. It was an accident and, thankfully, no one had been harmed. "Marion Jones," he breathed when she was finally by his side again, admiration tinting his voice. "You are brilliant."
Red colored her cheeks. "Me? I wasn't the one who stopped this from being a complete tragedy. That, what you did, that was fantastic." She smiled a toothy smile at him, the tip of her tongue unconsciously slipping between them.
"Yes, but the entire episode could have become utter chaos had you not intervened." His own teeth glistened between his lips. As they continued their walk John, quite suddenly, whirled around to face her. Clearing his throat, he stated, "Marion, the time we've spent these past few weeks have been the best of my life. While you may not have anyone to stand before you now, you are your own woman and can make your own decisions and so I implore, will you allow me to court you?"
"I thought you already were?" Marion teased, hiding her surprise and pleasure. She momentarily felt a smidgen of guilt as he faltered. Any time they weren't working, they were usually together. Even as she worked, he would come and help her. It seemed like a courtship at the time, though she'd never been on the receiving end herself and he hadn't said anything until now. She'd only hoped…
He nodded, gathering his courage. "Yes, but I want to make it official so there will be no misconstructions. I want to go about this accordingly. I want to marry you, Marion-"
There was no hiding her surprise this time as she let out a small gasp, her eyes widening.
"But first, I should like to take you to the village's dance," he finished, looking at her in eager hope.
"Yes," she breathed out.
"Yes, you'll allow me to court you properly or yes, you'd like to go to the dance?" He really didn't want any confusion.
"Both!" Marion exclaimed, startling him by closing the space between them and embracing him.
They'd never so much as held hands before this, merely small brushes of said appendages; John offering her his arm when they went on walks together was the closest they'd ever been. This was something new and it was wonderful. His breath hitched as Marion looked up at him and he finally gave into an urge he'd had since he met her.
"I've never…" she whispered when their lips were mere centimeters away.
"Neither have I," he said just as quietly and he felt it when his small revelation made her relax. He was surprised once again when she took it upon herself to close the remaining gap.
It was a chaste joining, but there was nothing simple about it. This kiss held a promise, a promise of more to come, a promise of forever.
---
Marion smiled at her reflection, wishing her mother were here to see her daughter all grown up and being courted. She wondered if Jackie and John would have gotten along; Marion doubted it. Well, maybe at first. She was positive Jacqueline Jones would've eventually come to love him like a son. 'Getting a little ahead of yourself, aren't you, Marion?' As soon as that bit of doubt entered her mind, John's words from earlier echoed through; I want to go about this accordingly. I want to marry you, Marion. Could he really mean it? Before she could think about it further, there was a knock on the door. Glancing at the looking-glass one last time, she went to open the door.
John fiddled with his bowtie nervously, waiting for Marion to answer, and when the door opened his jaw dropped. She was a vision. Her dress was a modest, pale rose-colored confection that flowed over her figure beautifully. "You look stunning."
Her cheeks colored, but her tongue slipped out between her lips, pleased with the compliment. "Thank you." She looked him over and gave him a dazzling smile. "You look very handsome." Marion's hands automatically went to fix the bowtie he'd left askew. Once done, she took his proffered arm, allowing John to lead her down the stairs and out the front door, to the village dance.
"Can I get you anything to drink?" he asked once they'd arrived and found a small table to sit at.
"Please." Marion gave him a dazzling smile and she felt her insides contract as John returned it with a smile of his own. Never had she felt like this. No boy, no man, had ever made her feel so special, like the universe could end and he wouldn't notice because all his attention was on her. Even with this wonderful man, Marion continued to have dreams about her strange, alien man. Watching as John weaved through the crowd to get back to her, she shoved her thoughts away and concentrated on the real world.
As Marion sipped her drink, she looked at the empty dance floor. The small band was playing, but everyone in attendance was scattered around, conversing with one another. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw John shifting in his seat. Just as the band was ending a song, Marion put her cup down on the table and stood up. "May I have this dance, Mr. Smith?" she asked, extending her hand, and did her best to hold in a nervous smile as she saw his eyes widen in surprise. Whispers broke out all around them, but her unease was put to rest when John smiled and took her hand.
"It'd be an honor, Miss Jones." John had been nervous about asking Marion to the dance, not only because he was afraid she'd say no, but because he wasn't quite sure whether he knew how to dance. However, his fears were laid to rest as soon as he had Marion in his arms. Suddenly, John didn't care that he fumbled with his feet until they finally found the proper rhythm or that he accidentally turned her the wrong way, twisting her arm slightly. The only thing that mattered was that she was smiling and laughing with him, her giggles filling his heart with such joy that he would swear he needed a second one to hold it all in. Her honey eyes connected with his darker brown and he was lost.
After a while, more couples joined them on the dance floor, but they were oblivious to everything except each other.
---
It'd been almost three months since Marion and John arrived at Farringham separately, but now no one could imagine them apart. Everyone in town was sure they'd be in for a treat the following spring.
It was now Christmas break and the only ones who remained at the school was one John Smith and a few of the maids. Even the headmaster had decided to visit his family in London. On Christmas Eve John invited Marion to the school and they had a delicious, if slightly burnt, dinner.
"This is lovely, John. Thank you," Marion smiled widely at him. She had sometimes joined other families for Christmas dinner in her travels, but this was the first time she actually felt at home once more. She could definitely get used to this.
"I'm just sorry for the turkey. I remember watching my mother cook every Christmas, but…" He was caught between bashfulness and sorrow.
Marion placed her hand over his, caressing it; John didn't talk about his family much. She felt he trusted her that little bit more when he did though.
After dinner, they moved to John's rooms, settling on the settee, her back to his front, as John finished reading A Christmas Carol to her. Marion had read it several times, but hearing John reading gave her a tingling sensation as his voice washed over her.
While John's voice held a steady confidence, he was a mess inside. The ring he'd bought a few weeks ago burned a hole in his pocket. He was sure he wouldn't be turned down, but he wanted to do this right. When Marion shifted suddenly, he realized he'd stopped reading. They'd reached the end and he hadn't even noticed.
"John?" her soft voice whispered.
He turned and found himself staring straight into Marion's honey eyes. They held a question in them, but he could not think of an answer, his mind blissfully blank for once. Instead, he let instinct take over and he lowered his head to meet her lips, his tongue swiping at her already parted lips. Although it had taken both of them a while to initiate kisses, the passion between them was intense. Before today, they had been able to control themselves, societal norms dictating they have a proper courtship, but with no one hovering over them, tonight John and Marion felt it was time to let go.
Marion didn't know what got into her, but as soon as John's tongue met hers, propriety took a backseat. She turned to face him fully, one hand reaching to bury itself into his thick, brown hair, the other gripping his forearm, her legs straddling his thigh. After a few moments, she began to rock back and forth slowly.
John was careful not to scare her. While he might not have much experience (okay, none at all), he made sure to keep his movements gentle, his hands wandering only soothingly over her back as he leaned down the settee slowly, bringing Marion down with him. Soon enough he couldn't resist and his hands travelled to Marion's chest, his thumbs making circular motions over her dress. When she fidgeted over him he let out a triumphant sound that was stifled by her lips. Something hard dug into his hip and John broke away from her, looking at Marion in question.
She blinked in confusion until she felt the metal circumference of her father's watch. Marion removed it from her dress pocket and carefully placed it on a side table, taking no notice of another fob watch similar to hers. Instead, she stood before John and reached back to unbutton her dress. She was stopped shortly by his hands and doubt took over for a second before he requested, "Please, let me."
John got up and turned Marion around slowly. He carefully gathered her hair and swept it over her shoulder, one hand slid down to her waist and the other continuing to undo the buttons of her dress. Once he reached the end, he felt Marion pull the sleeves off but held on to the front of the dress as she turned around, her cheeks rosy-red. He resisted the urge to kiss her and waited with bated breath for her to make the next move; he would not push her.
Marion took a deep breath and shoved her nerves aside. No one had ever seen her without clothing and here she was, ready to bare herself to a man she'd only known a few months. It defied logic, the way she instinctively trusted him. After what felt like hours, but was really only a couple of minutes, she brought her hands to her sides, let the top of her dress fall, sliding it off completely and letting it pool around her on the floor.
Gulping, John couldn't help but let his eyes travel down Marion's figure. Dressed now in nothing but her slip and stockings, she was every bit as breathtaking as when he first met her. He watched as she bit her lip nervously and stepped out of her dress towards him.
"May I?" Marion whispered as she played with the buttons of his shirt. At his nod, she began to undo his buttons much faster than he'd done with hers. She waited as he shrugged out of it before bringing her hands up to dive into his hair and lower his lips to hers.
This time, John's fingers were anything but shy. His hands were everywhere and soon they'd gone to the hem of her slip, lifting it up and off Marion. Fingers danced as his mouth trailed down her neck, then to her chest, kneeling down to continue the path down to her belly, and he tugged her stockings off before braving the removal of her knickers. On his feet again, he turned her around and pushed her gently on his bed.
Marion clung to John, her fingernails lightly digging into his back. She smiled as she pressed a kiss to his neck, but frowned when he lifted off her.
While this might be John Smith's first time, he wasn't ignorant either. He'd heard plenty of tales from friends, coworkers, even his schoolmates from so long ago. He'd also… He'd also picked up a book or two on the subject (and not the generic insert slot A into slot B type of books either). This, here and now with Marion, was different. He wanted it to be perfect for her, but John worried he wouldn't…last long enough for her to receive any pleasure tonight. Simply staring at her nude form on his bed had him on the edge.
Marion looked up at him nervously, wondering what he was thinking. Her face was completely flushed as she lay still under his scrutiny, but it was no casual observation. As his eyes roamed her body, she felt it like a caress and her nipples hardened as his gaze went back to her chest, her breath shortened. Her eyes then zeroed in as she watched John remove his trousers. The lighting was rather dim as the candles had gone down quite a bit while he'd read to her, so Marion didn't get a good look at him, but her pout was quickly removed as he came back to the bed to join her.
John lifted the sheets up and over them, and for a while he simply lay next to her, one hand buried in her hair as he kissed her slowly and gently, while the other caressed her side before his thumb grazed the underside of her breast. He stared into her lovely light brown eyes, finding nothing but adoration and trust. It humbled him that someone with as pure a soul as Marion would ever look at him like that. "I love you," he couldn't help but utter. He stunned himself and he could see the surprise in her eyes too, but it was the truth.
Marion's heart sped up when she heard those three, short words come from John's mouth. Seeing nothing but honesty shine from his wide, brown eyes, she became a bit teary.
For a second, John panicked as he noticed the tears, but a wide grin overtook his face, as he heard her whisper, "I love you," in return.
Just like that, Marion and John felt more at ease. They were still a bit nervous, of course, coming into uncharted territory as it were, but this time there was no holding back.
Shifting so that he was hovering over Marion, John brought his lips down to hers, his tongue seeking permission to enter her mouth as his fingers got to work caressing every inch they could reach. He took joy in each gasp and moan he evoked from her.
For all that Marion had never been intimate with anyone before, she was not one to stay still. Her hands roamed, exploring the body of the man above her. She grinned as John shuddered when she sucked on his earlobe and giggled when he flinched as her hand caressed his left side, making note of his ticklish spot for future reference. Marion's hands suddenly came to grip his shoulders tightly as she felt a single digit explore her nether regions. Her body was well-aware of how ready it was as John spread her wetness over her little nub, electing a long moan from her. The few times she had pushed away the guilt and touched herself had never felt like this. Marion inhaled sharply as one finger gently probed her and she did her best to relax.
Carefully, John began to move his finger in and out of Marion, his lips trailing kisses up her neck, to her cheek, skimming her lips, and going down the other way in order to keep her distracted. As he sucked on her collarbone, he added a second finger to stretch her more. John was hoping that if he eased her open with his fingers, she wouldn't hurt as much when he entered her completely.
Marion's breath hitched as the fingers inside her continued their in-and-out movement, hitting something inside her that had her clenching around them tighter. It felt a bit odd, being stretched like this, but not unpleasant by any means. A moan escaped her when his thumb swiped across her nub and she couldn't help but nip his lower lip, suckling on it. Her hips continued to thrust on his fingers even as he inserted a third and Marion knew she wanted more. Removing one hand from his hair, she trailed it down, finding his length. She let go of his lip and grinned when he let out a long groan. She trailed her hand lightly up and down for a minute until a hand grabbed her wrist gently. Looking up into deep brown eyes that had grown darker in their exploration, she bit her lip softly and that was the breaking point.
John didn't know how he managed to last as long as he did. At this time, he didn't even care. All he knew was that he wanted Marion, completely. He removed his fingers and lowered himself, kissing her lips sweetly, reminiscent of their first. John's thumb drew circles on her hips as he aligned with her entrance. The trust glowing in her eyes made his hearts…that is, his heart, clench and he couldn't help but hold his breath as he eased inside her. He continued to hold her gaze for any signs of pain or unpleasantness.
Besides a small pang, all Marion felt was a moment of discomfort, but as she signaled John to continue moving after he'd paused at her quiet whimper, it passed as he thrust in and out slowly. Her fingers tightened around his shoulders and a wave of pleasure coursed through her as he thrust a little harder, a little deeper. Her nails scraped over his back with just enough pressure as to leave light red lines and Marion's legs tightened around his waist, her own hips following the faster rhythm he set in prefect synchrony. Her breathing came out more harshly as she moaned; groaning when John brought a hand to her thigh to bring it a little higher and the new angle had him touching something deep inside her.
Feeling Marion's muscles flutter around him, John felt himself tethered to the edge. He used his unoccupied hand to caress her nub and the dam broke. She clenched around him, bringing him to the edge with her. He felt as if he was soaring straight to the stars and the best part was that Marion was right there with him.
Time stilled around them and nothing could be heard but their breathing as they wound down. Sleep soon came for them and John held onto Marion throughout the night, barely shifting even when their fob watches began to glow.
---
The Doctor and Rose looked at each other. Not even a minute later, they began giggling and their laughter only got louder. They'd woken up just minutes ago and had been a bit groggy, but as soon as they looked one another they realized their memories were back.
"Did we really-?"
"Did we just-?"
When their laughter died down, Rose rested her head on his chest and started tracing nonsensical patterns. "Are they gone?" she asked.
The Doctor held her close, dragging his fingers up and down her spine. "The TARDIS wouldn't have let the timers go off if they weren't."
"What if…?" She trailed off, unable to describe this inexplicable worry and fear she felt. It tightened around her heart. Rose had never even feared the Daleks or Cybermen this much.
The Doctor kissed the crown of her head. "I promise they're gone, but I'll check tomorrow." Feeling her nod her head, he tightened his grip on her, swearing to keep her safe at all costs.
---
Timothy Latimer set his things down on his bed and started unpacking so he could be ready for class the next day. The holidays were now over and it was time for the last half of the year to begin. As he started putting his smaller items into the nightstand, he noticed an envelope and at seeing the neat writing, he knew his favorite teacher, John Smith, and the school's librarian, Marion Jones were gone, back to the stars.
Gripping Miss Tyler's fob watch as he finished reading the letter (for even though it'd held the Doctor's essence, it was hers); Timothy was surprised when one last vision lingered. He put both the watch and letter at the bottom of his trunk as his roommates began to come in. Hearing a jibe about his size, the boy simply shook his head in amusement. He'd be okay even if his adult 'protectors' had 'eloped'.
The Doctor and Rose Tyler were back amongst the stars where they should be, but not without having changed one Timothy Latimer's life for the better.
---
With a lingering kiss, the Doctor let Rose head to their room, so she could get some rest. She'd complained of a headache after she'd written the letter to his star pupil. John Smith's top student, that was. Weren't they one and the same in the end, though? He'd still fallen for his pink and yellow girl. Not even the suppression of memories could remove their feelings for one another. The smile that had spread across his face was suddenly wiped off as he felt the echoing emptiness in his mind. He thought he'd already become accustomed to the silence in there, only briefly alleviated by the TARDIS and Rose.
The Doctor shook his head and dismissed it to the side effects of the Chameleon Arch. Now thinking about it, that might be the cause of Rose's headache. Finishing the flight to the Vortex so the Old Girl could recuperate from her three month hibernation, he headed down the corridor to check up on Rose.
The TARDIS hummed in sorrow. She had hoped that, with the memories she let slip from the fob watches that she'd be able to change the events from the strongest timeline she'd seen/would see/might see, but it was not to be. Her poor Thief and Wolf were bound to this path that split into so many endings, only one had a relatively happy one, and there was nothing more she could do to ensure they at least got an ounce of it.
Only time would tell their fate.
---
19 August 1984
Sixteen days came and went. It was now the twentieth day and there was no sign of little Ianto Smith's parents. Silvia from the desk refused to believe they abandoned him even if the evidence (paying upfront, phony telephone numbers, false names) pointed to the contrary. She'd seen the love they had for their son and the pain that shone in their eyes as they left… Maybe it had been guilt… No! She refused to believe that. Something must've happened to them on their trip. Whatever it was, there was no way of finding out because Marion and John Smith simply did not exist anywhere in the U.K. Silvia had put all her efforts into finding them, but a week later she gave up. Instead, she did her best to help Denise Jones adopt him legally. Her brother was a social worker and Silvia knew he trusted her judgment.
A few months later, Ianto Smith legally became Ianto Jones, son of Denise and William Jones, brother to Rhiannon. For the next twenty-four years of his life, Ianto would go through a normal childhood where he would grow up to become a simple archives worker for Torchwood One until it was destroyed in the Battle of Canary Wharf and he would almost lose his beloved fiancée. He'd then do his best to save her by moving back to Cardiff and work for Torchwood Three where he would try to save her. His efforts would be in vain as she was full-converted mentally. Eventually, he would fall for his boss, Jack Harkness, a man of many secrets. That was fine. He had secrets of his own, Lisa being the last in a long line.