(no subject)
One Day at a Time
Jack/Ianto
PG-13
Based on this omgdelicious picture of Gareth that maverick0324 showed me.
Jack came back, and the world didn't end.
Amazing, that.
Jack came back and the first place he went to was Torchwood. He found it running like clockwork; a bit less exciting, but probably more functional.
He found two new employees, besides Tosh and Owen and Gwen. In the kitchen, he found a very expensive coffee-maker and no Ianto.
"He left," Tosh was the first to say. "He... he left."
Jack stayed for two weeks, and then he left, too. He did it properly this time. He bought a mobile and gave them all the number. He set up an email account. He packed a suitcase from things he received from storage.
The first time he walked away from Cardiff, he was in search of his past.
The second time he walked away from Cardiff, he was in search of his future.
He found Ianto after a month and a half, and only then with Tosh's help. Ianto covered his tracks well.
He'd moved to Paris and gotten a job as a personal assistant to a local artist. He fetched coffee and ran errands and scheduled appointments. He spoke the language fluently, even if no one would mistake him for a native speaker. Jack stood around the corner from where Ianto chatted with a local merchant. Even in French, those vowels could make his knees a little weak.
When he'd left Torchwood, Owen had administered the retcon. There was little doubt that Ianto could have set up a trigger if he'd wanted to, though. Jack honestly had no idea if Ianto would remember him or not.
Ianto got coffee from a stand every day. One Tuesday morning, Jack waited there for him. When Ianto saw him, there was no obvious reaction.
On Wednesday, Jack waited, too. Thursday, Friday.
Saturday, Jack was there, but Ianto didn't show up.
Sunday, Jack slept in.
On Monday, he waited again. Ianto lingered this time, and Jack openly observed him. The city obviously agreed with him; he looked relaxed and happy. He hadn't shaved over the weekend, and his face was scruffy. He wore jeans and trainers and a t-shirt. His hair was no longer the neat clip of a Torchwood employee; it curled around his ears and against his neck.
Ianto turned around suddenly and stared straight at Jack. He looked unsure. "If it isn't to much trouble, sir, would you please refrain from stalking me?"
Jack laughed. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you noticed."
"You're a bit hard to miss." Ianto chanced a smile.
"Oh, yeah?" Jack's grin widened. "Join me? I promise I'm not dangerous."
Ianto did join him, and they talked for a few minutes before Ianto said he had to get to work.
Jack was certain, then; Ianto didn't remember him. He'd wanted a fresh start. He'd wanted a new life. And here Jack was, searching for a way to get right back into it.
He was sort of a bastard, wasn't he? But he refused to go back to Cardiff alone... even if that meant spending the next eighty or so years in Paris. The next morning, he waited for Ianto again. They talked for longer; mobile numbers exchanged.
Jack took him to the cinema and then out to dinner for their first date. They kissed in the theater, giddy and laughing at first and then deeper, lazily exploring each other's mouths.
The first date led to a second, and to a third. Jack checked out of the hotel he was staying in and found a small flat near Ianto's house with a six month rental agreement. After the fifth date, there ceased to be dates... days, instead, spent together doing mundane things like grocery shopping and watching rented films and making dinner at Ianto's house. They had sex for the first (not first, hundredth; but still, first) time exactly three weeks and two days after speaking at the coffee stand.
"I love you, Jack," Ianto said, after two months. He tried to be casual, but nerves shone through. They stood in Ianto's bathroom getting ready. It was seven in the morning... time for Ianto to leave for work, time for Jack to go off and do whatever Jack generally did during the day.
(Look for a job, lately, but he was picky and there wasn't much call for super hero alien fighters in Paris these days. Much more a British thing, that was.)
Jack smiled and put his toothbrush down. He turned Ianto toward him and kissed him on the corner of his mouth and looked him straight in the eye. "I love you, too."
A wide grin creased Ianto's face and his cheeks turned a faint pink. He put his arms around Jack and kissed him. Jack kissed him back, amazed at his own capacity for joy. I could have had this, he kept thinking, I could have had it all along.
"I love your hair like this," Jack said one night while they lay together, naked and basking. He pressed a kiss to Ianto's neck, and then behind his ear. His right hand was tangled in the thick, slightly curling hair at the back of Ianto's head. "Don't get it cut short again."
Ianto laughed. "How can you say that, when you haven't seen it any other way?"
If he felt any guilt over deceiving Ianto, he talked himself out of it. It wasn't his deception, he told himself; Ianto was the one that decided to live his life like this. Jack was only following his wishes.
At the end of six months, Jack didn't renew his lease. Most of this things were already at Ianto's house, anyway. Ianto gave him the key as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Maybe it was, Jack thought happily.
He wondered sometimes if there was a trigger there somewhere, waiting to be stumbled over. He wondered if one day Ianto would remember everything; like waking up from a dream and being hit with reality. If he'd yell, if he'd scream, if he'd hate Jack. If there was anything Jack lived in fear of, it was that. Not Ianto remembered, but Ianto remembering and deciding that the very real life they'd begun living together was just a mockery.
And then it happened. He woke up one Saturday morning and Ianto's side of the bed was cold. He walked naked into the kitchen and found Ianto sitting at the table, his hands gripping a coffee mug tightly. The minute their eyes met, Jack knew that Ianto knew.
"Captain," Ianto smiled tightly.
Jack had never felt more like crying in his life. "Ianto-"
Ianto shook his head. "Don't. Not yet. I just need time to think. I... I'm going to work. Marisa has an early meeting with a gallery owner, I'm meeting her there. I need to get ready."
Jack sat staring at the table until he heard Ianto's keys rattling and footsteps in the foyer. He had a speech prepared in his head, a list of drastic and probably overly dramatic measures to be taken if necessary.
He didn't have to take them. Ianto left, but he came back. They talked. There was hours of talking; remembering, explaining. A phone call to Toshiko in the middle of the night evoked tears. Ianto cried and Tosh cried and Jack even gave in and cried a little himself, in bed with his arms tight around Ianto.
"Did you miss me at all, the way I was? Because now that I remember, I can't be only the person you've been with this year."
"Of course I missed you," Jack said fiercely. "I missed you. I loved you then, and I love you now."
It was almost three in the morning when Ianto ran out of things to ask (sometimes demand) of Jack. Old demons had been laid to rest, at least temporarily.
"You won't cut your hair, will you?" Jack said, almost mournfully fingering the messy locks. "I really do like it this way."
Ianto laughed and kissed him and the world still hadn't ended and Jack was happy.
Jack/Ianto
PG-13
Based on this omgdelicious picture of Gareth that maverick0324 showed me.
Jack came back, and the world didn't end.
Amazing, that.
Jack came back and the first place he went to was Torchwood. He found it running like clockwork; a bit less exciting, but probably more functional.
He found two new employees, besides Tosh and Owen and Gwen. In the kitchen, he found a very expensive coffee-maker and no Ianto.
"He left," Tosh was the first to say. "He... he left."
Jack stayed for two weeks, and then he left, too. He did it properly this time. He bought a mobile and gave them all the number. He set up an email account. He packed a suitcase from things he received from storage.
The first time he walked away from Cardiff, he was in search of his past.
The second time he walked away from Cardiff, he was in search of his future.
He found Ianto after a month and a half, and only then with Tosh's help. Ianto covered his tracks well.
He'd moved to Paris and gotten a job as a personal assistant to a local artist. He fetched coffee and ran errands and scheduled appointments. He spoke the language fluently, even if no one would mistake him for a native speaker. Jack stood around the corner from where Ianto chatted with a local merchant. Even in French, those vowels could make his knees a little weak.
When he'd left Torchwood, Owen had administered the retcon. There was little doubt that Ianto could have set up a trigger if he'd wanted to, though. Jack honestly had no idea if Ianto would remember him or not.
Ianto got coffee from a stand every day. One Tuesday morning, Jack waited there for him. When Ianto saw him, there was no obvious reaction.
On Wednesday, Jack waited, too. Thursday, Friday.
Saturday, Jack was there, but Ianto didn't show up.
Sunday, Jack slept in.
On Monday, he waited again. Ianto lingered this time, and Jack openly observed him. The city obviously agreed with him; he looked relaxed and happy. He hadn't shaved over the weekend, and his face was scruffy. He wore jeans and trainers and a t-shirt. His hair was no longer the neat clip of a Torchwood employee; it curled around his ears and against his neck.
Ianto turned around suddenly and stared straight at Jack. He looked unsure. "If it isn't to much trouble, sir, would you please refrain from stalking me?"
Jack laughed. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you noticed."
"You're a bit hard to miss." Ianto chanced a smile.
"Oh, yeah?" Jack's grin widened. "Join me? I promise I'm not dangerous."
Ianto did join him, and they talked for a few minutes before Ianto said he had to get to work.
Jack was certain, then; Ianto didn't remember him. He'd wanted a fresh start. He'd wanted a new life. And here Jack was, searching for a way to get right back into it.
He was sort of a bastard, wasn't he? But he refused to go back to Cardiff alone... even if that meant spending the next eighty or so years in Paris. The next morning, he waited for Ianto again. They talked for longer; mobile numbers exchanged.
Jack took him to the cinema and then out to dinner for their first date. They kissed in the theater, giddy and laughing at first and then deeper, lazily exploring each other's mouths.
The first date led to a second, and to a third. Jack checked out of the hotel he was staying in and found a small flat near Ianto's house with a six month rental agreement. After the fifth date, there ceased to be dates... days, instead, spent together doing mundane things like grocery shopping and watching rented films and making dinner at Ianto's house. They had sex for the first (not first, hundredth; but still, first) time exactly three weeks and two days after speaking at the coffee stand.
"I love you, Jack," Ianto said, after two months. He tried to be casual, but nerves shone through. They stood in Ianto's bathroom getting ready. It was seven in the morning... time for Ianto to leave for work, time for Jack to go off and do whatever Jack generally did during the day.
(Look for a job, lately, but he was picky and there wasn't much call for super hero alien fighters in Paris these days. Much more a British thing, that was.)
Jack smiled and put his toothbrush down. He turned Ianto toward him and kissed him on the corner of his mouth and looked him straight in the eye. "I love you, too."
A wide grin creased Ianto's face and his cheeks turned a faint pink. He put his arms around Jack and kissed him. Jack kissed him back, amazed at his own capacity for joy. I could have had this, he kept thinking, I could have had it all along.
"I love your hair like this," Jack said one night while they lay together, naked and basking. He pressed a kiss to Ianto's neck, and then behind his ear. His right hand was tangled in the thick, slightly curling hair at the back of Ianto's head. "Don't get it cut short again."
Ianto laughed. "How can you say that, when you haven't seen it any other way?"
If he felt any guilt over deceiving Ianto, he talked himself out of it. It wasn't his deception, he told himself; Ianto was the one that decided to live his life like this. Jack was only following his wishes.
At the end of six months, Jack didn't renew his lease. Most of this things were already at Ianto's house, anyway. Ianto gave him the key as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Maybe it was, Jack thought happily.
He wondered sometimes if there was a trigger there somewhere, waiting to be stumbled over. He wondered if one day Ianto would remember everything; like waking up from a dream and being hit with reality. If he'd yell, if he'd scream, if he'd hate Jack. If there was anything Jack lived in fear of, it was that. Not Ianto remembered, but Ianto remembering and deciding that the very real life they'd begun living together was just a mockery.
And then it happened. He woke up one Saturday morning and Ianto's side of the bed was cold. He walked naked into the kitchen and found Ianto sitting at the table, his hands gripping a coffee mug tightly. The minute their eyes met, Jack knew that Ianto knew.
"Captain," Ianto smiled tightly.
Jack had never felt more like crying in his life. "Ianto-"
Ianto shook his head. "Don't. Not yet. I just need time to think. I... I'm going to work. Marisa has an early meeting with a gallery owner, I'm meeting her there. I need to get ready."
Jack sat staring at the table until he heard Ianto's keys rattling and footsteps in the foyer. He had a speech prepared in his head, a list of drastic and probably overly dramatic measures to be taken if necessary.
He didn't have to take them. Ianto left, but he came back. They talked. There was hours of talking; remembering, explaining. A phone call to Toshiko in the middle of the night evoked tears. Ianto cried and Tosh cried and Jack even gave in and cried a little himself, in bed with his arms tight around Ianto.
"Did you miss me at all, the way I was? Because now that I remember, I can't be only the person you've been with this year."
"Of course I missed you," Jack said fiercely. "I missed you. I loved you then, and I love you now."
It was almost three in the morning when Ianto ran out of things to ask (sometimes demand) of Jack. Old demons had been laid to rest, at least temporarily.
"You won't cut your hair, will you?" Jack said, almost mournfully fingering the messy locks. "I really do like it this way."
Ianto laughed and kissed him and the world still hadn't ended and Jack was happy.