All’s well that ends well.
The Daleks are dead, Rose is alive and doesn’t remember what she did, and you’re a new man: rude, sexy, brilliant with a sword. You’re being served Christmas dinner instead of the sharp edge of Jackie’s tongue, and Mickey’s laughing with you instead of at you.
And Rose is smiling at you like you’re still her
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“Jones!”
Jerked out of his daydream, Ianto stumbles as he stands at attention. The class bursts into laughter.
“Sir!”
The professor turns away. “Stay awake next time, Jones.”
Ianto sits, shaking, and leans down to pick up the books which have tumbled to the floor. The class is still mirthful at his misfortune, and his pencil has rolled away, just out of reach.
“Sorry, could you-?” he starts, and his classmate wriggles her toe and kicks the pencil across the tile to his fingers.
“Thanks,” he mouths at her, and Lisa Hallett, prettiest girl in the eleventh form, smiles.
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