A Blip in Time
Title: A Blip in Time
Characters: Captain Jack, Eleventh Doctor, Ianto Jones
Rating: PG-13 for language
Disclaimer: The BBC and RTD own Torchwood and Doctor Who, although I'm not sure they deserve to
Warnings: angst, character death, slash, swearing
A/N: I actually wrote this just before Children of Earth aired, and I held it back in case the events of CoE affected the fates of any of the characters I have mentioned in this story. Well... *sigh* ...this fic has now become AU, and so I have not touched a word of it, as it hardly matters now. I'm just going to say that, for the purposes of this story, some of the events of Children of Earth did not occur.
I'd have died every day for the rest of eternity, just to have him with me for a little longer.
The Doctor had known Jack long enough by now to know that something was up. The Time Lord had been watching the other man surreptitiously, but carefully, over the past day or two.
Today was another day of Jack moping around the console room, constantly staring at the vortex manipulator strapped to his wrist with dark eyes, brooding. The Doctor also knew Jack well enough to realise that sometimes he just wanted to be left alone to ruminate, but it had now got to the point where he thought he ought to say something.
"Captain."
Jack looked up, shaken from his reverie. "Yep."
"Tell me what's wrong."
Jack smiled tightly. "Nothing's wrong." He tapped at the device imbedded in the leather strap on his wrist. "Been keeping a track of linear time with this. Got a reminder on it, a couple of days ago. There's something I need to do, and… I'm sorta dreading it. Brings back bad memories."
Jack paused, and swallowed noisily. "But I promised. And I swore to myself I'd always keep that promise."
The Doctor frowned, his smooth, angular face suddenly wrinkling at the brow, and he unthinkingly raised a hand and ran fingers through the thick fringe that constantly fell on to his forehead. The silky curtain of dark brown hair, and the Time Lord's unconscious habit of sweeping it away from his face, was something about this younger, slightly more serious incarnation of the Doctor that Jack had learned to love.
"Anything I can do to help?"
Jack straightened. "Yeah. Actually… I need you to take me somewhere. If you don't mind."
The Doctor smiled. "Intergalactic Taxi, at your service. Anywhere, anywhen. I expect a good tip, mind."
Jack smiled back, gratefully. It seemed that since he'd started travelling with the Doctor again, and it had been a little over ten months, he'd worked out; the Time Lord had been doing anything in his power to please him.
When the Doctor had received Jack's desperate message and had gone to him, he'd found the immortal a broken man. The Captain had spent the past five months drowning in a cold, bitter sea of frustration, anger and grief, and he'd finally thrown in the towel. He'd turned to the only man in the universe he trusted. And the Doctor could never refuse a plea for help.
It hadn't been difficult for the Time Lord to see that Jack needed to be taken away from Torchwood. Away from Cardiff, and away from responsibility and painful memories.
Of all the things the Doctor could have done for his friend; rescuing him, albeit in a little blue box and not on the back of a white steed, was the very least he could do. He'd been rescuing good people from the lives they no longer wanted to live, for centuries. One more was hardly a problem.
And it wasn't as though he didn't owe Jack a favour or two.
***
Cardiff, 19 August 2041
It was a stiflingly hot day. Jack didn't bother with his coat, and neither did the Doctor.
"Slow death of the ozone layer…" Jack said, squinting up into the too-bright sky. "And forty years ago some people still thought it was the Government overreacting."
"It'll be a few more years before people don't still sit around arguing that they prefer the weather like this," the Doctor mused.
Jack nodded. "Yep. Why go abroad? And it'll be another few years after that, when the global warming effect becomes critical, and the skin cancer rate hits a ratio of seventy per cent of the population, before they start to really sit up and take notice."
"Not a problem for you, though, eh?" The Doctor might be in his eleventh body now, but he was as good at stating the obvious as he'd always been.
Jack stood still, hands in his pockets. He kept his face tilted upwards, basking in the strong sunlight. "Nope. Nothing touches me. Not cancer. Not illness. Certainly not death. Lucky old me."
The Doctor reached out and put a comforting hand on his companion's shoulder. He squeezed it, but didn't speak. He had no idea what to say.
Jack breathed in deeply through his nose and looked at the Doctor. "August the nineteenth. A few years out, I guess, but it doesn't really matter. It's the date that's important."
The Doctor shrugged. "I thought it safer to land a few years after you left Cardiff. Avoid you accidentally running into yourself. Or… anyone else."
Jack nodded. He looked ahead of him. A tiny little church was visible, just up the road. He hadn't picked a specific one, just one that looked pretty and quiet. He'd never been a religious man; he wasn't even sure what he believed, even after all these years. But it seemed like the right sort of place to go.
He'd done this exactly one year ago. Different church last time. And he'd been alone, then. So very alone.
He took a breath, and then set off, heading towards the old building. He took half a dozen steps before realising that the Doctor wasn't following.
He turned and gazed at the Time Lord, his mouth a straight, expressionless line.
The Doctor shrugged, a little awkwardly. "Thought you'd want to be alone. It's fine… I can wait for you; take as long as you need. There's a little café over there…"
Jack shook his head. "You can come with me, if you like. If you want to, that is…" He closed his eyes a moment, willing the sting behind his eyelids to recede. He managed to control his emotions after a moment. He looked back at the Doctor, his eyes a little red-rimmed despite his effort to hold back the threat of tears. "Come with me, Doctor? Please."
The Doctor looked down at the dusty ground for a second, and then back at Jack. He nodded, and smiled as comfortingly as he could. "Course I will."
Jack nodded, and waited for the outwardly younger man to catch him up.
***
It was dark and cool inside the church. Jack stared down at the array of candles, wondering whether he should stand in front of them, or kneel, or… he shook his head. He'd never been very good at this sort of thing.
"I don't think he'd mind either way," said the Doctor softly, realising what Jack was debating.
Jack paused, and then nodded resolutely. He reached out for a taper. And forced himself to remember.
***
"I found another one today." Ianto's voice was muffled against Jack's bare shoulder.
"Another what, angel?"
"Another grey hair." He huffed a little.
"Wow. That's a total of three." Jack let a note of gentle sarcasm enter his voice.
"Well sorry, Captain 'I'm over two thousand and only have two grey hairs to show for it' Harkness." Ianto spoke in a mocking, low-pitched tone that made Jack grin. "Us mere mortals worry about getting old, y'know."
"You're not old."
"I'll be thirty soon. Thirty! And three grey hairs already. I'm doomed..."
"Show me," said Jack, a little drowsily.
Ianto raised his upper body, balancing on one elbow in the bed next to Jack, and pointed vaguely towards his own left temple. "There, see?"
Jack leaned up, putting his face close to Ianto's, pretending to scrutinize his hairline to find the elusive grey strand, but then suddenly leaning in and kissing him on the mouth; long, slow and lingering. "As if I care," Jack said softly when he finally broke contact with Ianto's lips.
Ianto panted a little, and blushed. Five years together, and a single kiss from Jack Harkness still took his breath away. Ianto felt his face burn as he shrugged. "I care."
Jack reached out and ran a finger along Ianto's cheekbone. "You used to think I'd leave you when you started getting older."
Ianto moved his gaze away from Jack, not meeting his eyes.
Jack stared at Ianto for a long moment. He licked his lips, swallowed hard. "Well... Ianto. I hate to admit it, but you're not getting any younger. Those grey hairs... there's gonna be no stopping them coming in, right? So, I guess... before it gets any worse, I'd better just... do it."
Ianto's eyes slid back to Jack's face, a note of alarm already apparent in them. "Do what?"
There was another pause, as though Jack was steeling himself. At last, he spoke. "Ask you to marry me."
Ianto opened his mouth, and then closed it again.
Jack's voice was louder and more confident, now. "Marry me, Ianto."
Ianto started to shake his head. "Don't tease me like that, Jack. It's not fair..."
Jack reached out, and cupped Ianto's face in his hand. He stared into the younger man's eyes. "I'm not joking. Ianto... I want to spend the r..." he set his jaw and took a breath. "I want you to spend the rest of your life with me. Marry me."
Ianto's forehead creased. That little crease between his eyebrows that Jack wanted to lick along, every time he saw it. "You can't be serious."
Jack scrambled out of bed, ignoring the fact that he was naked. He moved round to Ianto's side of the mattress. Ianto started laughing even before Jack had completed the manoeuvre of getting down on one knee. He reached out and took Ianto's hand. "Ianto. I love you." A huge grin lit up his face. "Holy fuck, I love you..."
They both let out a giggle of pure joy. Jack cleared his throat. "Ianto Jones. Will you marry me? Please?"
"Please?" Ianto had an eyebrow raised, grinning like a loon.
"Please. I'll beg, if you want me to. Oh shit, I didn't get you a ring, or anything..." Jack's grin faded, but his mouth was soon engulfed in the wet heat of Ianto's lips. Ianto leaned forward a little too far, and tumbled onto Jack, laughing. Jack caught him on his lap and cradled him.
Ianto straightened up in Jack's arms and looked deeply into his eyes. "Yes," he said, solemnly. Then his face broke out into another big smile. "Holy fuck, yes." The grin reappeared on Jack's face like a light bulb being switched on.
"I will marry you, Captain Jack Harkness. Yes, yes, yes..."
They fell backwards onto the carpet in each other's arms, laughing and kissing.
***
"Best idea I'd had in a long time," murmured Jack, looking at the still-unlit candle.
He felt the Doctor's hand rest lightly on his back. "You okay?"
Jack sniffed, and realised that tears were rolling down his face. "Just... thinking of the good times. When I asked Ianto to marry me... I'd never seen him so happy."
"Wish I'd been at the wedding." The Doctor's voice sounded a little sad, but not disappointed.
Jack shrugged. "I didn't think it would be... appropriate. He was always scared that you'd turn up and take me away from him, again."
The Doctor just nodded, understanding.
"I'm sorry," said Jack quietly.
The Doctor just kept stroking his back, saying nothing. He wasn't sure who Jack was apologising to.
***
They sat in front of the small group of people, a select party of friends and family.
Jack glanced up, handsome in a dark grey suit. He grinned at his friends; Rhys holding on to a squirming toddler, Gwen next to him, smiling through happy tears and cradling her newly pregnant stomach. Jack winked at her.
Andy Davidson and his girlfriend. Martha Milligan, gorgeous as ever in pale blue. Tom holding her hand, sporting a rarely shaven chin and a new haircut. Mickey Smith and his wife, their year-old twin boys in matching outfits. Sarah Jane and her husband, Luke taking photo after photo.
On Ianto's side, his sister and brother-in-law, niece and nephew. Rhiannon sitting forward eagerly, dabbing her eyes with a tissue, waiting to stand and sign the register. Jack's new family, the boisterous family that made him sit down with them to eat Sunday lunch every other week. The kids called him Uncle Jack, now.
Alice and Steven hadn't turned up, then. Probably a good thing.
They didn't need anyone else there. But Jack eyed the empty seat on the front row. Maybe he should have made that call.
"Hey," Ianto whispered. He was staring down at the civil partnership papers, pen in hand. "Jack Harkness isn't your real name, will this still be legal?"
"Mickey did something creative with the Registry database," Jack whispered out of the corner of his mouth. "Sign it and become the old ball and chain, already."
Ianto dug him in the ribs with a smirk, and signed on the dotted line. He'd insisted that he was going to take Jack's name anyway. Even if it wasn't really his.
A few moments later they were kissing, on show; flash, flash, flash of photographs being taken, dazzling Jack even through closed eyelids and a mouthful of Ianto's lips. They were both trembling, he realised.
When the kiss ended, Jack grinned back at the smiling, applauding party of people watching him. His eyes slid back to the empty seat.
Should have made that call.
***
"Ianto wanted kids with me," Jack said. The candle was still unlit. "He looked into us adopting, but... hell. Torchwood and children, they don't mix. Gwen was proof of that."
"You've always provided for your children," said the Doctor gently.
Jack snorted. "Yeah. Hi, here's a cheque, bye? Don't think I'd have ever been voted Father of the Year."
The Doctor shrugged. "Me neither."
"Just someone else to watch wither and die, Doctor. I told him no. Eventually he stopped asking."
"You made him happy, Jack. You gave him everything you could."
***
"Remember when I used to say 'I found another grey hair', Jack?" The mirror steamed up with Ianto's breath as he examined himself closely.
Jack leaned into Ianto from behind, wrapped both arms around his torso. "You know I love your grey hair."
Ianto snorted. "Now I'm lucky if I can find a brown one. I'm too young to go completely grey, aren't I? I'm only 42, for god's sake..." Bloody Torchwood. If there was anything stressful enough to turn somebody's hair white, Torchwood was it.
"It's very distinguished," said Jack soothingly. "My little silver fox." He leaned in and kissed the back of his husband's neck, and Ianto chuckled.
Jack rested his chin on Ianto's shoulder as they silently gazed at themselves in the mirror for a long moment.
Ianto nuzzled Jack's face slightly with the side of his head. "Look at you, Jack. Matinee idol. You still look the same as you did twenty years ago."
"I drink lots of water, that's my secret."
Ianto snorted. "Look at me. Grey hair. Laughter lines. Shit, who am I kidding? Crow's feet. That's what they are. And I'm getting fat."
Jack turned him round in his arms and lost himself in Ianto's eyes. "Grey hair, laughter lines... what the hell do they mean? I don't care, Ianto. I'll always love you. All those doubts you used to have... and I'm still here, see?"
Ianto put his head on Jack's shoulder, and Jack cuddled him close. He was fairly sure Ianto was crying.
***
"Ianto always said they should erect a special plaque somewhere for him. Ianto Jones, the man who worked for Torchwood long enough to get old."
"He wasn't that old," said the Doctor sadly.
"A blip in time for me, he used to say," said Jack. "I had him for thirty years, in the end. What's thirty years to you or I, Doctor?"
"You were lucky to have him, Jack. No matter how long it lasted."
"Don't give me that 'it's better to have loved and lost' shit. It's not fair. It never was." Jack was crying again, not bothering to wipe the tears away. "All those lives he helped to save. All the good work he did. Risked his life for the whole planet every fucking day, and I lose him to cancer at the age of 53. How is that fair, huh?"
Two weeks. Two weeks from finding out about Ianto's illness to watching him slip away. No time to prepare, no time to say goodbye properly. Jack had never forgiven destiny for that. He never would.
***
"If you think about it, it's good they aren't going to give me chemo. I prefer grey hair to having none at all, Jack. Always did dread going bald, remember?" He sounded so frail, so weak and tired.
Jack stroked his face, squeezed his pale hand. "Ssssh, love. I'm not giving up on you. Never could. I'll find a way to save you, I promise."
Ianto smiled, despite the pain. "You were good at keeping promises in the end, Jack. I'll give you that. But this time, you're only fooling yourself."
And fuck, but it hurt. Because Jack knew it was the truth.
***
"I died for him so many times, I lost count," said Jack. "And I'd have died every day for the rest of eternity, just to have him with me for a little longer."
"You can't save everyone. I learned that the hard way." The Doctor stood next to Jack now. He reached for a taper too.
Jack nodded, wiped his eyes and cleared his throat. He dipped the taper into a lit candle and waited for the flame to settle. He gazed at the tiny flickering fire for a moment.
"Burning bright, just like you, Ianto Harkness-Jones," Jack whispered. He lit the biggest candle he could see. "Happy birthday, angel. I'll come back and do this next year. Every year, forever, like I promised. I'll come back for you."
The Doctor lit a candle too, a small one. "Happy birthday, Ianto," he said simply. They both dropped the lit tapers into a metal receptacle.
The Doctor stepped away and reached out his hand. And after a moment, after one last glance at the candle he'd lit for Ianto, Jack took it.
They walked out of the church, hand in hand. Nobody gave the two men a second glance. At least some things improve as time goes on, thought Jack bitterly.
They stood in the bright sunlight again. Jack looked up, squinting. "What do you believe, Doctor? You think Ianto is up there somewhere? Looking down on me?"
The Doctor smiled a little, but didn't say anything.
Jack thrust his free hand into his pocket. "I always hated the thought of him being in the darkness. I know what it's like." He stared into the middle distance for a moment. "Do you think he'd be angry at me?"
The Doctor leaned over and kissed Jack softly on the lips. "I think he'd be happy that you've been able to move on, Jack."
Jack kissed the Doctor back; long, slow and lingering. Then he let go of his lover and looked back at the little church. "Ianto always knew I'd end up with you. He spent his life expecting it to happen. I don't think he ever really believed how much I loved him."
He looked back at the Doctor. "And there you were. Waiting for as long as it took."
The Doctor shrugged. "Always found something to keep me busy in the meantime."
Jack smiled. "Come on, let's try the café. I'll buy you tea and a slice of cake. Birthday cake, for Ianto." The Doctor nodded, and the two men linked hands again as they walked down the road.
Ianto Harkness-Jones' life was a blip in time to an immortal. But boy, what an amazing blip that had been.
Characters: Captain Jack, Eleventh Doctor, Ianto Jones
Rating: PG-13 for language
Disclaimer: The BBC and RTD own Torchwood and Doctor Who, although I'm not sure they deserve to
Warnings: angst, character death, slash, swearing
A/N: I actually wrote this just before Children of Earth aired, and I held it back in case the events of CoE affected the fates of any of the characters I have mentioned in this story. Well... *sigh* ...this fic has now become AU, and so I have not touched a word of it, as it hardly matters now. I'm just going to say that, for the purposes of this story, some of the events of Children of Earth did not occur.
I'd have died every day for the rest of eternity, just to have him with me for a little longer.
The Doctor had known Jack long enough by now to know that something was up. The Time Lord had been watching the other man surreptitiously, but carefully, over the past day or two.
Today was another day of Jack moping around the console room, constantly staring at the vortex manipulator strapped to his wrist with dark eyes, brooding. The Doctor also knew Jack well enough to realise that sometimes he just wanted to be left alone to ruminate, but it had now got to the point where he thought he ought to say something.
"Captain."
Jack looked up, shaken from his reverie. "Yep."
"Tell me what's wrong."
Jack smiled tightly. "Nothing's wrong." He tapped at the device imbedded in the leather strap on his wrist. "Been keeping a track of linear time with this. Got a reminder on it, a couple of days ago. There's something I need to do, and… I'm sorta dreading it. Brings back bad memories."
Jack paused, and swallowed noisily. "But I promised. And I swore to myself I'd always keep that promise."
The Doctor frowned, his smooth, angular face suddenly wrinkling at the brow, and he unthinkingly raised a hand and ran fingers through the thick fringe that constantly fell on to his forehead. The silky curtain of dark brown hair, and the Time Lord's unconscious habit of sweeping it away from his face, was something about this younger, slightly more serious incarnation of the Doctor that Jack had learned to love.
"Anything I can do to help?"
Jack straightened. "Yeah. Actually… I need you to take me somewhere. If you don't mind."
The Doctor smiled. "Intergalactic Taxi, at your service. Anywhere, anywhen. I expect a good tip, mind."
Jack smiled back, gratefully. It seemed that since he'd started travelling with the Doctor again, and it had been a little over ten months, he'd worked out; the Time Lord had been doing anything in his power to please him.
When the Doctor had received Jack's desperate message and had gone to him, he'd found the immortal a broken man. The Captain had spent the past five months drowning in a cold, bitter sea of frustration, anger and grief, and he'd finally thrown in the towel. He'd turned to the only man in the universe he trusted. And the Doctor could never refuse a plea for help.
It hadn't been difficult for the Time Lord to see that Jack needed to be taken away from Torchwood. Away from Cardiff, and away from responsibility and painful memories.
Of all the things the Doctor could have done for his friend; rescuing him, albeit in a little blue box and not on the back of a white steed, was the very least he could do. He'd been rescuing good people from the lives they no longer wanted to live, for centuries. One more was hardly a problem.
And it wasn't as though he didn't owe Jack a favour or two.
***
Cardiff, 19 August 2041
It was a stiflingly hot day. Jack didn't bother with his coat, and neither did the Doctor.
"Slow death of the ozone layer…" Jack said, squinting up into the too-bright sky. "And forty years ago some people still thought it was the Government overreacting."
"It'll be a few more years before people don't still sit around arguing that they prefer the weather like this," the Doctor mused.
Jack nodded. "Yep. Why go abroad? And it'll be another few years after that, when the global warming effect becomes critical, and the skin cancer rate hits a ratio of seventy per cent of the population, before they start to really sit up and take notice."
"Not a problem for you, though, eh?" The Doctor might be in his eleventh body now, but he was as good at stating the obvious as he'd always been.
Jack stood still, hands in his pockets. He kept his face tilted upwards, basking in the strong sunlight. "Nope. Nothing touches me. Not cancer. Not illness. Certainly not death. Lucky old me."
The Doctor reached out and put a comforting hand on his companion's shoulder. He squeezed it, but didn't speak. He had no idea what to say.
Jack breathed in deeply through his nose and looked at the Doctor. "August the nineteenth. A few years out, I guess, but it doesn't really matter. It's the date that's important."
The Doctor shrugged. "I thought it safer to land a few years after you left Cardiff. Avoid you accidentally running into yourself. Or… anyone else."
Jack nodded. He looked ahead of him. A tiny little church was visible, just up the road. He hadn't picked a specific one, just one that looked pretty and quiet. He'd never been a religious man; he wasn't even sure what he believed, even after all these years. But it seemed like the right sort of place to go.
He'd done this exactly one year ago. Different church last time. And he'd been alone, then. So very alone.
He took a breath, and then set off, heading towards the old building. He took half a dozen steps before realising that the Doctor wasn't following.
He turned and gazed at the Time Lord, his mouth a straight, expressionless line.
The Doctor shrugged, a little awkwardly. "Thought you'd want to be alone. It's fine… I can wait for you; take as long as you need. There's a little café over there…"
Jack shook his head. "You can come with me, if you like. If you want to, that is…" He closed his eyes a moment, willing the sting behind his eyelids to recede. He managed to control his emotions after a moment. He looked back at the Doctor, his eyes a little red-rimmed despite his effort to hold back the threat of tears. "Come with me, Doctor? Please."
The Doctor looked down at the dusty ground for a second, and then back at Jack. He nodded, and smiled as comfortingly as he could. "Course I will."
Jack nodded, and waited for the outwardly younger man to catch him up.
***
It was dark and cool inside the church. Jack stared down at the array of candles, wondering whether he should stand in front of them, or kneel, or… he shook his head. He'd never been very good at this sort of thing.
"I don't think he'd mind either way," said the Doctor softly, realising what Jack was debating.
Jack paused, and then nodded resolutely. He reached out for a taper. And forced himself to remember.
***
"I found another one today." Ianto's voice was muffled against Jack's bare shoulder.
"Another what, angel?"
"Another grey hair." He huffed a little.
"Wow. That's a total of three." Jack let a note of gentle sarcasm enter his voice.
"Well sorry, Captain 'I'm over two thousand and only have two grey hairs to show for it' Harkness." Ianto spoke in a mocking, low-pitched tone that made Jack grin. "Us mere mortals worry about getting old, y'know."
"You're not old."
"I'll be thirty soon. Thirty! And three grey hairs already. I'm doomed..."
"Show me," said Jack, a little drowsily.
Ianto raised his upper body, balancing on one elbow in the bed next to Jack, and pointed vaguely towards his own left temple. "There, see?"
Jack leaned up, putting his face close to Ianto's, pretending to scrutinize his hairline to find the elusive grey strand, but then suddenly leaning in and kissing him on the mouth; long, slow and lingering. "As if I care," Jack said softly when he finally broke contact with Ianto's lips.
Ianto panted a little, and blushed. Five years together, and a single kiss from Jack Harkness still took his breath away. Ianto felt his face burn as he shrugged. "I care."
Jack reached out and ran a finger along Ianto's cheekbone. "You used to think I'd leave you when you started getting older."
Ianto moved his gaze away from Jack, not meeting his eyes.
Jack stared at Ianto for a long moment. He licked his lips, swallowed hard. "Well... Ianto. I hate to admit it, but you're not getting any younger. Those grey hairs... there's gonna be no stopping them coming in, right? So, I guess... before it gets any worse, I'd better just... do it."
Ianto's eyes slid back to Jack's face, a note of alarm already apparent in them. "Do what?"
There was another pause, as though Jack was steeling himself. At last, he spoke. "Ask you to marry me."
Ianto opened his mouth, and then closed it again.
Jack's voice was louder and more confident, now. "Marry me, Ianto."
Ianto started to shake his head. "Don't tease me like that, Jack. It's not fair..."
Jack reached out, and cupped Ianto's face in his hand. He stared into the younger man's eyes. "I'm not joking. Ianto... I want to spend the r..." he set his jaw and took a breath. "I want you to spend the rest of your life with me. Marry me."
Ianto's forehead creased. That little crease between his eyebrows that Jack wanted to lick along, every time he saw it. "You can't be serious."
Jack scrambled out of bed, ignoring the fact that he was naked. He moved round to Ianto's side of the mattress. Ianto started laughing even before Jack had completed the manoeuvre of getting down on one knee. He reached out and took Ianto's hand. "Ianto. I love you." A huge grin lit up his face. "Holy fuck, I love you..."
They both let out a giggle of pure joy. Jack cleared his throat. "Ianto Jones. Will you marry me? Please?"
"Please?" Ianto had an eyebrow raised, grinning like a loon.
"Please. I'll beg, if you want me to. Oh shit, I didn't get you a ring, or anything..." Jack's grin faded, but his mouth was soon engulfed in the wet heat of Ianto's lips. Ianto leaned forward a little too far, and tumbled onto Jack, laughing. Jack caught him on his lap and cradled him.
Ianto straightened up in Jack's arms and looked deeply into his eyes. "Yes," he said, solemnly. Then his face broke out into another big smile. "Holy fuck, yes." The grin reappeared on Jack's face like a light bulb being switched on.
"I will marry you, Captain Jack Harkness. Yes, yes, yes..."
They fell backwards onto the carpet in each other's arms, laughing and kissing.
***
"Best idea I'd had in a long time," murmured Jack, looking at the still-unlit candle.
He felt the Doctor's hand rest lightly on his back. "You okay?"
Jack sniffed, and realised that tears were rolling down his face. "Just... thinking of the good times. When I asked Ianto to marry me... I'd never seen him so happy."
"Wish I'd been at the wedding." The Doctor's voice sounded a little sad, but not disappointed.
Jack shrugged. "I didn't think it would be... appropriate. He was always scared that you'd turn up and take me away from him, again."
The Doctor just nodded, understanding.
"I'm sorry," said Jack quietly.
The Doctor just kept stroking his back, saying nothing. He wasn't sure who Jack was apologising to.
***
They sat in front of the small group of people, a select party of friends and family.
Jack glanced up, handsome in a dark grey suit. He grinned at his friends; Rhys holding on to a squirming toddler, Gwen next to him, smiling through happy tears and cradling her newly pregnant stomach. Jack winked at her.
Andy Davidson and his girlfriend. Martha Milligan, gorgeous as ever in pale blue. Tom holding her hand, sporting a rarely shaven chin and a new haircut. Mickey Smith and his wife, their year-old twin boys in matching outfits. Sarah Jane and her husband, Luke taking photo after photo.
On Ianto's side, his sister and brother-in-law, niece and nephew. Rhiannon sitting forward eagerly, dabbing her eyes with a tissue, waiting to stand and sign the register. Jack's new family, the boisterous family that made him sit down with them to eat Sunday lunch every other week. The kids called him Uncle Jack, now.
Alice and Steven hadn't turned up, then. Probably a good thing.
They didn't need anyone else there. But Jack eyed the empty seat on the front row. Maybe he should have made that call.
"Hey," Ianto whispered. He was staring down at the civil partnership papers, pen in hand. "Jack Harkness isn't your real name, will this still be legal?"
"Mickey did something creative with the Registry database," Jack whispered out of the corner of his mouth. "Sign it and become the old ball and chain, already."
Ianto dug him in the ribs with a smirk, and signed on the dotted line. He'd insisted that he was going to take Jack's name anyway. Even if it wasn't really his.
A few moments later they were kissing, on show; flash, flash, flash of photographs being taken, dazzling Jack even through closed eyelids and a mouthful of Ianto's lips. They were both trembling, he realised.
When the kiss ended, Jack grinned back at the smiling, applauding party of people watching him. His eyes slid back to the empty seat.
Should have made that call.
***
"Ianto wanted kids with me," Jack said. The candle was still unlit. "He looked into us adopting, but... hell. Torchwood and children, they don't mix. Gwen was proof of that."
"You've always provided for your children," said the Doctor gently.
Jack snorted. "Yeah. Hi, here's a cheque, bye? Don't think I'd have ever been voted Father of the Year."
The Doctor shrugged. "Me neither."
"Just someone else to watch wither and die, Doctor. I told him no. Eventually he stopped asking."
"You made him happy, Jack. You gave him everything you could."
***
"Remember when I used to say 'I found another grey hair', Jack?" The mirror steamed up with Ianto's breath as he examined himself closely.
Jack leaned into Ianto from behind, wrapped both arms around his torso. "You know I love your grey hair."
Ianto snorted. "Now I'm lucky if I can find a brown one. I'm too young to go completely grey, aren't I? I'm only 42, for god's sake..." Bloody Torchwood. If there was anything stressful enough to turn somebody's hair white, Torchwood was it.
"It's very distinguished," said Jack soothingly. "My little silver fox." He leaned in and kissed the back of his husband's neck, and Ianto chuckled.
Jack rested his chin on Ianto's shoulder as they silently gazed at themselves in the mirror for a long moment.
Ianto nuzzled Jack's face slightly with the side of his head. "Look at you, Jack. Matinee idol. You still look the same as you did twenty years ago."
"I drink lots of water, that's my secret."
Ianto snorted. "Look at me. Grey hair. Laughter lines. Shit, who am I kidding? Crow's feet. That's what they are. And I'm getting fat."
Jack turned him round in his arms and lost himself in Ianto's eyes. "Grey hair, laughter lines... what the hell do they mean? I don't care, Ianto. I'll always love you. All those doubts you used to have... and I'm still here, see?"
Ianto put his head on Jack's shoulder, and Jack cuddled him close. He was fairly sure Ianto was crying.
***
"Ianto always said they should erect a special plaque somewhere for him. Ianto Jones, the man who worked for Torchwood long enough to get old."
"He wasn't that old," said the Doctor sadly.
"A blip in time for me, he used to say," said Jack. "I had him for thirty years, in the end. What's thirty years to you or I, Doctor?"
"You were lucky to have him, Jack. No matter how long it lasted."
"Don't give me that 'it's better to have loved and lost' shit. It's not fair. It never was." Jack was crying again, not bothering to wipe the tears away. "All those lives he helped to save. All the good work he did. Risked his life for the whole planet every fucking day, and I lose him to cancer at the age of 53. How is that fair, huh?"
Two weeks. Two weeks from finding out about Ianto's illness to watching him slip away. No time to prepare, no time to say goodbye properly. Jack had never forgiven destiny for that. He never would.
***
"If you think about it, it's good they aren't going to give me chemo. I prefer grey hair to having none at all, Jack. Always did dread going bald, remember?" He sounded so frail, so weak and tired.
Jack stroked his face, squeezed his pale hand. "Ssssh, love. I'm not giving up on you. Never could. I'll find a way to save you, I promise."
Ianto smiled, despite the pain. "You were good at keeping promises in the end, Jack. I'll give you that. But this time, you're only fooling yourself."
And fuck, but it hurt. Because Jack knew it was the truth.
***
"I died for him so many times, I lost count," said Jack. "And I'd have died every day for the rest of eternity, just to have him with me for a little longer."
"You can't save everyone. I learned that the hard way." The Doctor stood next to Jack now. He reached for a taper too.
Jack nodded, wiped his eyes and cleared his throat. He dipped the taper into a lit candle and waited for the flame to settle. He gazed at the tiny flickering fire for a moment.
"Burning bright, just like you, Ianto Harkness-Jones," Jack whispered. He lit the biggest candle he could see. "Happy birthday, angel. I'll come back and do this next year. Every year, forever, like I promised. I'll come back for you."
The Doctor lit a candle too, a small one. "Happy birthday, Ianto," he said simply. They both dropped the lit tapers into a metal receptacle.
The Doctor stepped away and reached out his hand. And after a moment, after one last glance at the candle he'd lit for Ianto, Jack took it.
They walked out of the church, hand in hand. Nobody gave the two men a second glance. At least some things improve as time goes on, thought Jack bitterly.
They stood in the bright sunlight again. Jack looked up, squinting. "What do you believe, Doctor? You think Ianto is up there somewhere? Looking down on me?"
The Doctor smiled a little, but didn't say anything.
Jack thrust his free hand into his pocket. "I always hated the thought of him being in the darkness. I know what it's like." He stared into the middle distance for a moment. "Do you think he'd be angry at me?"
The Doctor leaned over and kissed Jack softly on the lips. "I think he'd be happy that you've been able to move on, Jack."
Jack kissed the Doctor back; long, slow and lingering. Then he let go of his lover and looked back at the little church. "Ianto always knew I'd end up with you. He spent his life expecting it to happen. I don't think he ever really believed how much I loved him."
He looked back at the Doctor. "And there you were. Waiting for as long as it took."
The Doctor shrugged. "Always found something to keep me busy in the meantime."
Jack smiled. "Come on, let's try the café. I'll buy you tea and a slice of cake. Birthday cake, for Ianto." The Doctor nodded, and the two men linked hands again as they walked down the road.
Ianto Harkness-Jones' life was a blip in time to an immortal. But boy, what an amazing blip that had been.