wanda1969

Title: “Back Stage: Act II, Chapter 2”
Rating: M, for later adult content.
Spoilers/Disclaimers: Torchwood belongs to the BBC and RTD- I’m just borrowing the characters. I own nothing here, nor do I make any money- so please don’t prosecute!
Synopsis: Torchwood characters in a story set in the world of UK Theatre/ Entertainment.
A/N: Yet again, real life is taking over, so this is late- I can’t begin to thank those that are still reading and reviewing. I’m trying to reply to every comment, but please forgive me if I miss anyone out. Anyway- here’s the next chapter if anyone’s still reading!

Chapter List: http://wanda1969.dreamwidth.org/23356.html

Chapter 2

***
Ianto stood on the pavement outside the Grand and fiddled with the buckle on the strap of his satchel cum laptop bag. He’d stayed on to reply to some e-mails and go through some paperwork and check the show files (and, boy, did he hate that part of the job) when the rest of the crew had left after a hard day’s rigging. He’d undoubtedly missed the swift half his colleagues had gone for close to two hours ago, which was a pity since he could have done with a drink after spending the last hour going through an Inbox so full he couldn’t even send the shortest of messages. Thank God that he had Donna helping out in the office while he was rigging and programming the show; without her at least deleting all the industry exhibition invitations and sales shots, the theatre’s server would surely have melted down before now.

“Hey, Ianto!”

He started at the voice behind him, and then recognised the Transatlantic twang. Jack. He gathered his thoughts and then turned; it was no use avoiding the man, as he’d managed to do so far. Sooner or later during the production they would have to interact more closely, however self conscious he felt in the other man’s presence.

“Jack, how’re rehearsals going?” The Hartman team had been having last minute rehearsals in the Anthony Hopkins suite most of the week, and even when they’d had a couple of on stage run throughs for a few scenes they’d been well out of the way of Ianto up in the Control Room, operating the lighting desk.

“Good, good,” Jack nodded and smiled. “But I guess we’re lucky with this one- I’ve been working on the Show ever since I signed up, and quite a few of the other guys know the show pretty well.”

“It shows. It’s looking good already...”

“We’re all hoping it’s a winner.” Jack paused. “Look, are you on your way home?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I need a drink after the last couple of days...”

Ianto didn’t respond immediately, thinking through the correct reply to Jack’s unspoken question.

“Just a drink or two, nothing heavy. I need to get that dust out of my throat.”

“OK then. The Griffin?” he said, and inclined his head down the street in the direction of the pub. “But only a couple. I’ve got to get back. I’m knackered.”

“Me too,” Jack agreed, thinking of tomorrow’s full Dress Rehearsal. They were a only day away from the first Preview night, and everybody was sorely in need of a rest. He felt a pang of guilt for keeping the young man from home and a relaxing evening in with his girlfriend, but the selfish part of him needed to reassure the other man that he didn’t harbour any grudges or ill feelings after their last show together.

***

The men settled into their booth at the Griffin. During the short walk to the pub, the two had indulged in idle chitchat- how the read throughs and rehearsals were going for both the actors and technicians, or whether the show was selling well.

Now seated in the small and quiet, side street public house, Ianto sipped at his bitter and wiped away the froth from his lips with the back of his hand. “Well, it looks like you’ve had a busy year, Jack. I’ve hardly been able to switch the telly on without you turning up on something.”

The actor laughed. “Well, tell me about it... Do an episode of Doctor Who, and they’re all clamouring for you. It’s what I’ve wanted my whole career, but when it actually happens... well, I’ve gotta say it’s a bit overwhelming. There’s a big difference there between the stage and TV. For a start, you don’t get this kinda coverage in the press in the theatre... thank God,” he finished and smiled wryly as he took a draught of his pint.

“That’s true. Every time I open up a tabloid you’re there, too.”

Jack groaned. “That’s the worst bit! You think you’re gonna have a good night out, and before you know it, there’s a pile of paparazzi there.”

“Oh yeah?” Ianto grinned. “Mind you, you seem to have had some pretty good nights out- and some glamorous escorts, if you’re going to believe the press.”

“Never believe the press, Ianto,” he replied with a toothy laugh and a cock of his head. “It’s all work.”

“Even the photos?” It was his turn now to cock his head questioningly. “You and Alex Kingston were looking pretty close a couple of weeks ago in the News of the Planet.”

“All work, you know the score- promoting the show. Anyway, Mr Jones, I never took you to be the type to buy something as tacky as the News of the Planet,” Jack admonished.

The part of Ianto that was still struggling with the fact that he found the dark haired man sitting across from the table from him ridiculously attractive, was oddly comforted by Jack’s belief that he wouldn’t stoop so low as to read one of the trashier red tops. “Believe me, I wouldn’t pay good money for that rag. I found it in the Staff Room when I was having a break.” He said then feigned hurt, and tried his best not to laugh. “And- Mr Harkness- I’m rather offended that you think so little of my intellect that I would ...”

For a second Jack was about to apologise before he noticed the corners of the Welshman’s lips twitching as he forced himself to suppress his amusement. Jack grinned and then broke into laughter. “Well, I guess that’s as good as an excuse as any!”

Quickly forgetting about the previous year’s indiscretion, they settled into effortless small talk and chatted about the busy, non-stop year that had seen Jack go from well known musical and stage actor (at least in the world of West End Theatre goers) to full blown TV celebrity. Ianto found himself learning all about the off screen antics and gossip on Doctor Who, and which Jack felt were the most ‘fun’ panel shows or chat shows to appear on. Before he had time to check the time, they were starting their second drink.

“So...” Jack started. “It looks like you’ve had an eventful year, too. Last time I was here you were the Lighting Engineer, and now you’re in charge of the whole Technical Team. Wasn’t it that old Scottish guy who was managing last time I was here?”

“Archie,” Ianto supplied.

“That’s him. So what happened?”

“He retired. I wasn’t even going to apply for the job, but Tosh convinced me. I was surprised when I got the interview. I was even more surprised when I got the job. I’m not really management material.”

“I’m not surprised you got the job,” Jack said truthfully. “The Grand’s got someone now who knows the job better than most. Things seem to be running smoothly, and the lighting looks amazing. You don’t get that without being able to plan and schedule. You’re obviously a better manager than you give yourself credit for.”

“I don’t know about that- that’s more good lock than good management!”

“Whatever...” Jack dismissed Ianto’s insecuritres. “Anyway, I’m betting the money’s better? It’s got to be good for you and Lisa.”

Ianto flinched and was quiet for a moment. “Me and Lise broke up... Perhaps if she’d stuck around long enough for me to get the promotion, it might have been good for us both.”

“God, I’m sorry.” Jack apologised. And he was sorry, even if he could not help the small flicker of hope the news gave him. Ianto had seemed to idolise his girlfriend, but Jack was resigned to the fact that he stood no chance with the Welshman, and he could tell that Ianto was still smarting over the break up.

“Don’t be. I got over it...”

“So when did all of this happen?”

Ianto sighed. “Not long after that Panto. Turned out she’d been seeing the Ents Manager at the Arts Theatre all the time,” the Welshman explained without elaborating too much on the circumstances of how he had discovered Lisa’s affair. “She ended up moving down to London with him. Which is where she’d always wanted to go back to, I guess.”

“Jesus!”

“It’s OK- at least getting this job took my mind off it all. I’ve had time to think since then, and, looking back, me and Lise always wanted different things anyway. I should have seen that. Hey... it’s a new start, really. Time to take stock and concentrate on my career,” Ianto finished with a weak smile and tried his hardest to sound optimistic.

Jack wasn’t quite sure what to say; it was clear that the other man’s split with his girlfriend continued to niggle. “It seems you’re getting on with life. This is one of the best organised shows I’ve worked on,” he reiterated his earlier praise, and attempted to quash the feelings of relief that the young man was, perhaps, a free agent- not that it would make any difference. “Been seeing anyone else...?” he asked as nonchalantly as possible.

“God, no! I’ve got my plate full with work. And I’m not going to rush into anything else. It’s time to do things for me for a while.” It was no use saying anything else in front of the actor- Jack’s words all that time ago rang in his ears: “I’m not gay...” Ianto wasn’t even sure that he was gay; he’d visited more than his usual number of clubs and bars over the last year, and he had had to acknowledge that there were a great number of good looking men at some of the more open and mixed venues, but none of them had managed to ignite his attention like the actor had.

Jack nodded and grinned at him. “Same here- this year’s been all about Torchwood for me. Sometimes you just have to go for the opportunities that life throws at you, even when the going gets tough. You’ve got plenty of time to meet someone new at your age. Someone who doesn’t go off with the Entertainments Manager.”

“I know you’re right. It’s just that sometimes it doesn’t feel like that. I thought I’d got everything planned- I knew where I was going, who I was going there with. But I never thought I’d be a Tech Manager- or if I did, not yet. I was devastated when everything kicked off with Lisa, but I guess it wasn’t meant to be, now I really think about it. And I may not even have applied for the job, whatever Tosh said, if I’d still been with Lisa. She wasn’t very enthusiastic about me applying for jobs in Cardiff. It was like it really meant we were staying here.”

“Well, you’ve just gotta look at it all as a new start.” Jack stopped himself from making a comment that there were plenty more fish in the sea, and instead decided that both of them needed another drink- the conversation had got way too heavy in some respects. “Anyway... one more for the road? Let’s forget about all that shit.”

Ianto laughed. “OK- but I’ve really got to call it a night after that. It’s Dress tomorrow.”

***

The subject was swiftly changed as Jack sat down again and placed a glass of beer for Ianto on the table. “So, what do you think of the show?”

***

Another forty-five minutes passed, and the pair had settled into an effortless conversation, as they talked about anything but either Ianto’s break-up with Lisa, or .

“Time to go?” Jack asked as he drained his glass and fished in his jeans back pocket for his ‘phone. “Let’s grab a couple of cabs. Which way are you headed?”

***
When it became apparent that Jack’s digs were just less than half way in the same direction as Ianto’s place- a fact that Ianto had failed to realise thus far- they opted for a single taxi. As Jack handed over his portion of the fare and jumped out of the car, Ianto sighed and raised his hand in farewell and sank into the cab’s back seat. Jack returned the gesture with a wide smile before he turned and walked to the entrance of his block of flats.

Reconnecting with Jack had been ‘fun’, he supposed, now reassured that he could at least work with him, the embarrassing incident of last year, if not forgotten, forgiven. But the evening had also brought thoughts of ‘what might have been’- if only Jack had felt the same way that he did.

Despite that last thought, it was good to have a friend back in Cardiff, and after all, it was only for a limited time; if the two men couldn’t put aside their differences for a few weeks it would be a pretty poor show.

***

To Be Continued...

Title: “Back Stage: Interval, Chapter 5”
Rating: M, for later adult content.
Spoilers/Disclaimers: Torchwood belongs to the BBC and RTD- I’m just borrowing the charcters. I own nothing here, nor do I make any money- so please don’t prosecute!
Synopsis: Torchwood characters in a story set in the world of UK Theatre/ Entertainment.
A/N: Now I know that this is another chapter, but we’re getting into the second Act soon, so the chapters will be longer then. Also, apologies yet again for the late posting- real life, including a relative’s (non serious!) hospitalisation, delayed me.

Chapter List: http://wanda1969.dreamwidth.org/23356.html

Chapter 5

***
During the weeks that followed the discovery that ‘Torchwood’- and with it, Jack- was coming to the theatre, Ianto had reflected on the position that he found himself in.

However much he’d tried to brush off the obsession with Jack Harkness, it was (even to a confused Ianto) clear from the way that Jack occupied his thoughts on a frequent and inconvenient basis- whenever he had a spare moment, or, even worse, when he was asleep, causing him to wake, heated and unsatisfied- that he was attracted to the entertainer. Worse still, and infuriatingly, when Ianto managed to try to wind down and relax with the television, the Fates ensured that he couldn’t forget Jack; the man turned up on virtually every chat or quiz show he tuned in to. On top of all of this, the Technician had not avoided watching ‘Torchwood’, at first telling himself that his interest was purely part of the love he had for the good, old, British science fiction television tradition, rather than some fanciful and secret attraction he had with the show’s lead.

As time went by, and often with the help of a few relaxing and mind concentrating alcoholic beverages, he had begun to see his fixation with Jack as a personal fantasy, a secret crush. Bewilderment and inner turmoil had given way to the knowledge and acceptance that he really didn’t give a shit about Jack’s gender. And, more often than not, he could no longer blame the fixation on alcohol or drugs- he could be stone cold sober and a glimpse of bloody Jack Harkness on the telly could make his heart miss a beat. He began to question if he’d felt more for Paul Campbell than he had realised all those years ago- if he’d really thought about it at the time, had his housemate been more than a quick drunken and experimental fumble? If Lisa had never come on the scene, would things have been different between the two young men? Had he always, somewhere in his subconscious, been attracted to at least some men- and if he had, had Lisa somehow seen it, or sensed it, and sought out solace elsewhere? He even started to examine his career choices. Should the fact that he had decided to work in ‘the theatre’ have been a clue to his newly realised sexuality? Or bisexuality? He was in no doubt that he’d found Lisa attractive- as he had his few other girlfriends- and he had loved her. But this thing he had for Jack was just the same, but different, in a strange kind of way. There was the same fluttering in his stomach as when he had first started dating Lisa, the same incessant need to just see Jack... but this was getting out of hand and it was addictive.

Even as Ianto relaxed at home, pondering these thoughts and resolving to avoid thinking about the man at all, his pulse quickened and he felt as if a heated surge of blood circulate ‘round his body, coming to rest low in his belly. He leant his head back against the sofa, shutting his eyes and sighing to himself in defeat; aroused, he resigned himself to the knowledge that he was well and truly gone.

***
To Be Continued...

Title: “Back Stage: Interval, Chapter 3”
Rating: M, for later adult content.
Spoilers/Disclaimers: Torchwood belongs to the BBC and RTD- I’m just borrowing the charcters. I own nothing here, nor do I make any money- so please don’t prosecute!
Synopsis: Torchwood characters in a story set in the world of UK Theatre/ Entertainment.
A/N: Another short one! Thanks as ever to everyone who’s reading and commenting.

Chapter List: http://wanda1969.dreamwidth.org/23356.html

Chapter 3

***

Jack sighed at the laptop in front of him. To his complete horror, there were several weeks in February 2012 blocked out in his calendar, the only thing next to them being the letters ‘TBC’. Just after his appearance in Pantomime in Birmingham. He’d been looking forward to a nice, long holiday after this year’s show, Snow White, but, by the look of it, he’d be lucky to get away with a week in Tenerife at this rate. Perhaps he shouldn’t worry- he’d been waiting years for this opportunity to make it into mainstream TV and the ‘big time’. He looked through his mobile’s contacts section and pressed ‘dial’ for the only other person with full access to his diary.

“Hello, Martha Jones’ Management.” Although Jack had called her personal mobile, the Manager was always on the job.

“Martha! Voice of a nightingale! It’s Jack, How are you doing?”

“You know, schmoozing here, schmoozing there. How about you?”

“Fine, busy- as you know- but fine. I was just looking in my dairy and I found...”

“...That TBC entry. Look, I’m sorry but your ‘phone was engaged last night. Have you checked your ‘phone messages?”

“Well, no...” Jack knew he was lazy when it came to checking his messages. He quickly made a mental note to ask Martha about recruitingng a proper PA. He’d been avoiding such intrusion into his life for years, but since ‘Torchwood’ and ‘Who wants to be a Star?’, he was in demand. An extra pair of hands would come in handy, not to mention the fact that he was terrible at organising his own diary.

“Jack,” she admonished. “Well, if you had...” Martha continued to explain patiently, “You would have found a message about setting up a meeting to discuss those very dates.”

“Oh...” Jack trailed off, chastised. He coughed, knowing he’d been caught out, but not wanting to admit it. “OK, what’s it all about?”

“Steve Morgan’s been writing a musical... ” She paused as Jack took that in; Morgan was the main writer of ‘Torchwood’. “And he wants you to be the star. It’s gonna be ‘Torchwood’ but with even more kitsch and music. We’re thinking about a première and about four week in the sticks, and hoping for a few weeks later in the year in London. Hartman’s behind it all- as soon as she heard Steve was toying with doing a musical, she signed him up. She loved your turn in Aladdin, and since you’re all over TV at the moment you’re a highly bankable commodity... And ‘Torchwood’ has been a big hit for home grown sci fi... ”

The actor was silent for a second, he was lost for words and his interest piqued- not to mention that he was flattered by Steve’s faith in him. And the show would be an opportunity to showcase his singing to a different audience, one of younger viewers who might not have ever thought that musical theatre was for them. He finally let out a low whistle and grinned to himself. “Wow! I’ve gotta say yes, haven’t I? It’s not often a guy gets a musical written for him!”

He heard Martha’s musical laugh drifting down the ‘phone. “You’re right there- you can’t miss this opportunity. Some of the songs are going to be original, with a few, popular hits, but best of all... Steve wants you to look over the script and song list, have some input... It’s not often you get a chance like that.”

The proposition was sounding better and better to Jack. Never in his wildest dreams had he thought he’d be in a position to pick and choose like this, and he’d never even thought that he would ever be in this position, with a real prospect of being able to influence a show he was in, well beyond just his own performance. “In which case, the answer’s ‘yes’...”

“I’m so glad!” Martha all but squealed. “It’s gonna be a lot of intensive work- it’s not going to be ‘turn up on the day and just go with the script’... You’ve got to be prepared for that.”

“I know,” he said seriously. “But it’s a chance to really make a mark.” He paused. “So, now I’ve said ‘yes’, exactly where are you thinking about for a ‘place in the sticks’ for the opening?”

“Well...Birmingham and Manchester were suggested, but since the show’s set there, Yvonne and Steve are thinking the logical choice is Cardiff- maybe the Grand again. It’s got that retro look that he’s looking for and the stage can easily accommodate the set changes and show, full stop.”

Jack felt his stomach turn and twist, but only for a moment. Martha was right- Cardiff was the logical choice- and even though this meant that he may well be returning to the Grand, he was sure he’d squared things with Ianto before he’d left. Hell, from what he’d seen of the other man’s work, they’d also have the benefit of one of the best Lighting Operators outside of the West End, assuming that the Welshman was still there next year and hadn’t left for pastures new with Lisa. He was certain that Ianto was professional enough not to hold his past indiscretion against him. He just had to make sure that he could be that professional, too.

***
To Be Continued...

Title: “Back Stage: Interval, Chapter I”
Rating: M, for later adult content.
Spoilers/Disclaimers: Torchwood belongs to the BBC and RTD- I’m just borrowing the charcters. I own nothing here, nor do I make any money- so please don’t prosecute!
Synopsis: Torchwood characters in a story set in the world of UK Theatre/ Entertainment.
A/N: We’ve reached the interval, so there will be several short chapters before Act II...

Chapter List: http://wanda1969.dreamwidth.org/23356.html

Chapter I

***

If Ianto had felt that a holiday in the sun in Tunisia would heal the rift which he knew was growing, day by day, between himself and Lisa, he’d been mistaken. Lisa had spent most of her days taking the occasional dip in the pool or relaxing on a lounger in the shade of a large parasol, making her way through her extensive collection of easy holiday reading, which consisted of ‘chick lit’ novels and the odd magazine. Ianto had spent at least two days of their seven day stay alone, visiting the local town, or just exploring the surrounding beach and countryside in an effort to stem his boredom at the inactivity- he had never been one for sunbathing, preferring instead to see something of the country he was visiting. He had also been disappointed to find that Lisa did not share his romantic notions when it came to the evenings. The intimate meal that he had booked in the hotel’s restaurant on their first proper night there had not been greeted with enthusiasm, and she had picked at her food while conversation had been workaday but pleasant and friendly; Any thoughts of making use of the king side bed in the luxury bungalow that they’d paid extra for were soon driven from his mind. It was becoming painfully clear that, at least for her, this holiday was about getting away from it all rather than rekindling their relationship. He was at a loss about what to do, but finally supposed that this was exactly what happened when a couple had settled down after a few years. It was a depressing thought, but one that Ianto had no option to accept, despite his worries that something- or someone- else was at the root of the problem.

***

Two months later and the relatively short period of time had wrought considerable changes. Shortly after his arrival back from vacation, Archie had announced his plans for early retirement and his return to Scotland. Owen had declared no interest in applying for the post, stating that involved far too much paperwork and office work. Toshiko’s view had been pretty similar; she was far more interested in the Sound gadgetry she had carte blanche to tinker with, however she encouraged an initially reluctant Ianto to apply, and when he had studied the Management’s new job description- a more hands on Management style than Archie’s, with plenty of opportunities to continue working on shows if he wished and help with the paperwork side of the job in the form of a part time secretary- he’d enthusiastically applied. Lisa hadn’t shared that enthusiasm. While the increase in pay seemed appealing she thought that he should be casting his net a little wider in the job market- specifically in the direction of London. Whatever her thoughts, three weeks later- and a week before the interview for Technical Manager- Lisa was gone, and hadn’t that been fun...

Ianto had been scheduled to work late on a touring comedy show, re-rigging into the early hours of the morning, ready for the arrival of a week long run of a song and dance show. When he’d arrived at work he had found it was over manned. With Chris there and totally capable dealing with the simple static lighting, the Welshman had taken the chance of an early finish- after all he was salaried and Rob was paid by the hour. Lisa was off work, planning an early night, so he didn’t call her when he left the Theatre, planning to surprise her with an early return home- and surprise her he did. On his arrival back in their flat he had been greeted by the sight of Lisa and a man, comfortably installed on his sofa, stockinged feet comfortable resting on his coffee table, a glass of Cava in his hand. Whilst there was nothing ‘going on’, the man- awkwardly introduced as Michael- was completely comfortable in their flat, and Ianto mentally questioned exactly how often he’d visited. Lisa had asked Michael to leave, and, after he did, the argument that Ianto had been expecting ensued. It became apparent that Lisa and ‘Michael’ had been seeing each other for some time. The next revelation was that ‘Michael’, who was the Arts Director where Lisa worked, was soon to depart from Cardiff to take up a post with the Aldwych Theatre in London. At least Lisa had had the grace to call one of her girlfriends, asking if she could stay for a few days and after a protracted argument, she grabbed an overnight bag full of essentials and headed out of the flat- and out of Ianto’s life. At least there was one thing about the whole débâcle: at least the young man had an idea of just why Lisa had been so distant.

Over the next three days she cleared out her possessions from their home, mostly while Ianto was working. Months later, Ianto heard that ‘Michael’ had left Cardiff to take up his new job; at the same time, Lisa had left the Art’s Theatre for London, much to his relief- he wasn’t sure he could deal with her being in the same town, ready to bump into him at any moment.

How Ianto got through the interview for Technical Manager he would never know,
but get through it he did- and successfully. Although the post had been advertised externally, Ianto’s ‘local knowledge’ coupled with his Technical skills, and not just in Lighting- he had a good grounding in all of the theatre Technical disciplines, meant that he was by far the best candidate. He’d easily trounced the competition, and, at seven thirty that evening, whilst sat in the local pub with Tosh and Owen, he answered his mobile to a congratulatory Archie. He had never really considered that he could get the job, whatever his colleagues believed. His initial excitement about his appointment was swiftly replaced with regret even if he didn’t voice it. He should have had someone special to share the news with. He’d always thought he would be sharing his news and celebrating with Lisa if this was the outcome- but those hopes had been dashed after he’d found Michael in the flat.

***

To Be Continued...

Title: "Back Stage: Enter Stage Left, Act I"
Rating: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS VERY MINOR DRUG USE, WHICH I HOPE DOES NOT SPOIL ANYONE’S ENJOYMENT OF THE STORY. Not sure what rating that makes it- M?
Spoilers/Disclaimers : Torchwood, belongs to the BBC and RTD, I’m just borrowing the characters- I own nothing here, nor do I make any money! So please don't prosecute! It’s an AU story, so I’m pretty sure that it shouldn’t spoil anyone’s enjoyment of Torchwood itself.
Summary: Torchwood characters in a story set in the contemporary world of UK theatre/entertainment.
A/N: As mentioned (see above) in the Ratings, this chapter contains very minor drug usage, but I’m hoping that it’s sort of in character. I truly hope it doesn’t put anyone off the characters or story- it’s not meant to alienate readers, and it’s in no way sleazy.

Chapter list: http://wanda1969.dreamwidth.org/23356.html

Chapter 9

***

“So… who’s going to the party at Angharad’s place?” Owen’s tinny voice sounded through the talkback system. It was the penultimate day of the show and despite tomorrow’s Last Night Party Angharad had planned a more informal get-together. Throughout the run there had been a number of house parties at the turns’ digs or techies’ homes; the Welsh Soap star was a Cardiff native, and her success in her home country had resulted, by all accounts, in a comfortable house on the outskirts of the capital.

“I’m up for it,” said Chris from his position at the follow spot.

“Straight after the show?” Ianto didn’t really see the point of getting in an early night. It was a Friday and, over breakfast that morning, Lisa had told him that the lead in her production was having a similar ‘Penultimate Night Party’ that she and the rest of the staff at the Art’s Theatre would be attending. Besides, he was secretly eager to see just exactly what kind of house Welsh Soap superstardom bought.

“Yeah, but a few of the cast and crew are meeting up at the White Lion for a pint before getting a taxi up there. Me and Rob are going to Morrisons to get some drinks to take if you want to come?”

“Count me in,” Chris said.

“Me too,” Ianto added.

“See you at five, back stage… wait a minute… Standby LXQ 68. Stage crew- stand by for our so called bloody magic grotto.” The ‘cave scene’ wasn’t the Stage Manager’s favourite moment; setting the numerous chests of ‘gold’ and jewels had been a constant headache for the stage crew all run.

“Standing by,” several voices chorused through the headsets as they waited for their cues. Seconds later the blackout came, accompanied by the hushed sounds of stage crew moving the various props into position.

“Go. And Standby LXQ 67, Ianto.”

For the next couple of seconds all that Ianto could hear was Owen’s muffled voice, hand over his cans’ mic as he shouted to the stage crew to get off ‘the bloody stage’ before the cloth went up.

“Right, clear… Go LXQ 67…”

Everyone settled into the next scene.

“Anyway, what was I saying?” Owen said as he settled back down.

“You’re getting some beers in at Morissons,” Chris, over on the lime, responded.

"Yeah right…” Ianto’s eyes were fixed on the stage, watching nothing in particular, as he listened to Owen’s plans to get to the supermarket with time left over for a swift half before the evening’s Act One Beginners call. He looked on as Jack tried to stifle a laugh as he gazed in awe at the treasure chest overflowing with gold and jewels. Jack was having difficulty getting out his next line. “What the hell’s going on there?” he interrupted.

“Jesus, Bloody Rob’s hidden in the treasure chest…” Owen grumbled as he looked onto the stage

Throughout the run, the crew had been upping the ante as they tried on stage gag after stage gag. Yesterday there had been the stage weights hidden in the bag of swag which had caused Jack to struggle to lift the sack. All run, Rob had been desperate to conceal himself in the trunk of jewels, and it seemed that he had finally got his chance and was cheerfully waving the odd prop at the lead actor while making inappropriate gestures unseen by the audience. However pissed off Owen seemed, Ianto could hear the suppressed amusement in his voice.

***

Ianto was on his third large glass of punch- and that didn’t count the pint of bitter at the pub before he, Owen, Tosh and Chris caught one of the fleet of taxis to Angharad’s party, or the can of Brains as soon as he got there. The Welsh actress’ home was much as he expected it to be: a detached 1930s house, not too large or ostentatious and surrounded with simply landscaped gardens, which looked down on the twinkling lights of the city and the sea beyond. Inside it was tastefully furnished in the main, with three reception rooms and a large kitchen whose worktops were laden with ready-made snacks and nibbles, and a huge, glass bowl containing the aforementioned punch which seemed to be comprised of whatever spirits Angharad had found in her drinks cabinet, some sparkling white wine and a mere half can of lemonade.

The Welshman was starting to feel slightly woozy as he chatted to a tipsy Toshiko in the smaller and quieter of the two sitting rooms.

“Well, Owen had better get a move on with Rose. He’s basically got about a day and a half before the cast leaves,” she said, and looked through double doors into the main room where the majority of the guests were mingling and a small group, including Jack and the hostess were singing along to a small karaoke machine plugged into a large wall mounted plasma TV and surround sound speakers.

“I wish we’d run a book on it. I would have been willing to bet that he had no chance from day one,” Ianto stated somewhat blearily.

“In that case, you would have been sharing your spoils with me,” the Sound Tech grinned as Ianto downed the last of the lethal drink. “You know, I think I’m going to miss this lot. They’re not bad for turns.”

“I know what you mean…” Ianto was going to miss them, too, especially Jack, but was looking forward to a return to some kind of normality. “Anyway, I wouldn’t worry… They’ll probably all be back next Christmas. One thing about turns, is they always turn up again.”

Toshiko groaned. “Was that meant to be a joke, Ianto? If so, it was really, really bad…”

He grinned. “Sorry. I think I should slow down on the drinks. Anyway, I’m off for a pee,” he said unceremoniously and got up and sought out the downstairs loo.

***

When the Welshman returned to the lounge, Tosh had gone. He easily spotted her in the main sitting room, no doubt dragged there by one of the other guests, wincing at Chris’ efforts at singing along to ‘Ruby’ on the karaoke machine. The house was hot with the central heating on full and the punch had taken its toll. Ianto felt his cheeks burning- it was time for some fresh air. He went into the kitchen to make his way through to the patio at the back of the house. Quickly filling a glass with water as he passed the sink, he noticed Rob just outside the backdoor wreathed in a combination of smoke and his own breath condensed in the crispy, clear night air. As he stepped out into the cold he sniffed at the instantly recognisable sickly sweet smoke and coughed.

“Jesus, Ianto!” Rob exclaimed as he turned around. “Do you always have to creep up on people like that?”

“Sorry! I needed a break from the karaoke.” He dug into his pocket and produced a packet of cigarettes.

Rob eyed the packet. “Here mate, have some of this instead. You look like you need to relax,” he said handing Ianto the remains of the joint that he’d been smoking. “I was just about to go inside and find Leanne anyway. Don’t wanting her getting bored without me, eh?”

“Cheers, Rob.” Ianto didn’t usually indulge in cannabis, or any other drugs, these days but he reasoned it had been a pretty tough few weeks. Half a joint couldn’t do much harm. As Rob went inside, Ianto took a deep drag and strolled towards a small bench which overlooked the bay and Cardiff. It was a chilly, cloudless night and Ianto found himself just enjoying looking at the stars which seemed to sparkle and flicker in the dark sky.

***

Jack was getting bored of his fellow actors’ performances as they all vied for supremacy over the karaoke machine. It was time for a break, and he wandered into the kitchen and helped himself to another glassful of punch. The back door was open and, although it was cold, he stepped out. He sipped at the glass and enjoyed the view, until a small plume of smoke drew his attention to a bench behind a shrub, and just out of sight from the house. He walked towards the bench, and further inspection showed it to be occupied by none other than Ianto Jones.

“So, this is where you’re hiding yourself!” he said announcing himself.

The younger man jumped slightly as he was stubbing out the now finished spliff under his heel, but smiled as he realised that the voice belonged to Jack. “I wouldn’t exactly call it hiding away. I just felt like a bit of peace and quiet.”

“Me too.” Jack sat down. “I hear enough of this lot singing at work.”

“You’re not the only one. I don’t know how Toshiko is coping in there- after all she has to listen to this more than the rest of us.”

“She must be a glutton for punishment…”

“I’m beginning to wonder…”

Talk quickly turned to the Panto- what had gone wrong, what could be improved- and Jack’s new venture with the BBC, and his hopes that it could be just the breakthrough that he needed after all these years of hard slogging at his craft.

Eventually Ianto looked back towards the bay, and Jack found himself admiring the way that the moonlight emphasized the man’s high cheekbones and that button nose he’d found so striking when they had first met. He’d obviously had a little too much to drink and looked away before the temptation to act on his attraction to him became unstoppable.

“Anyhow, how about you? You could always get back to the West End. You’re too skilled to be working here at your age,” Jack quickly changed the subject.

“Been there, tried that. I’m pretty sure that Lisa would like to go back, but we’ve got to sort things out before either of us makes a decision like that…”

“You’ll sort it out. You just need a bit of time together.”

Ianto had a sudden moment of clarity. “I hope so, but I’m not sure, Jack. I’m starting to wonder if we can sort things out…” Lisa’s visit to her parents at Christmas had been somewhat of a turning point and it still niggled, but since then he’d started to ask himself if the whole thing was worth the fight. “If I we ought to work things out…”

“Hey, don’t be hasty, Ianto. You’ve got to give it one last chance.”

“Maybe, maybe… but… well, this is supposed to be a party, not a counselling session! You should be telling me all about Rob hiding in the chest earlier…”

Accepting Ianto’s need to change the direction that the conversation was going in, Jack laughed. “I was not expecting that. It’s a good job that we’re at the end of the run. At least the punters are expecting some gags, so they’re enjoying it. Actually, I can’t believe it took the crew so long before they tried the stage weight in the sack gag.”

Ianto chuckled. Most of the casual crew was just out of college. “You’re right… but I blame it on the younger generation. They get far too serious about theatre and entertainment!”

“Bloody Hell, Ianto… when you start calling the crew the younger generation, I know I’m over the hill. For God’s sake… how old are you?”

“Twenty seven. And, anyway, you’re hardly ‘over the hill’…”

“See, I’ve got ten years on you. It’s make or break time for me this year; I don’t want to be hitting forty without some kind of breakthrough.”

Ianto snorted out a laugh. “Come off it! You’ve made it in the West End and you’re always popping up on TV these days, and there’s Doctor Who.” He paused for a moment and looked over at the other man. “And I have to say that you’re wearing well for your late thirties.”

“Ah, it’s the jaw line and good genes, you know.” Jack raised an eyebrow and gave his best cheesy showman’s grin. “I reckon I’ve got five years before it all goes downhill. So me and Martha are hoping for a hit with Torchwood.”

“When did you say it was scheduled for?”

“The BBC’s got it down for late February on BBC3, moving to some repeats on
BBC2 if everything goes well.”

“I’ll give it a go- and you can bet Tosh will.”

“Ah, I’ve already got fans!” Jack said with a theatrical flourish of his hands.

“I wouldn’t go that far!”

There was a break in the conversation as the Welshman looked out across the garden and out to sea. “Angharad’s got a great spot here. It’s the kind of place I could only dream about owning…”

“Me too, Ianto.” Jack had made his way through the last of his drink and set the glass down next to the bench. He could only agree, as he admired the house’s view. He glanced to his right, and he was rewarded with another view- of Ianto’s profile as he gazed down at the Bay, the moon’s light reflecting off the dark water.

It was as if Ianto knew that he was being watched, and he turned to look at Jack, the sea forgotten.

What came next seemed to happen in a flash, with neither of them sure- when they looked back on it- who had started it all. First, their lips met, tentatively, hesitantly; next arms wrapped around one another and they kissed almost hungrily, as one of Jack’s hands moved to thread through Ianto’s short hair. The kiss was everything- and more- that Jack had fantasised about in those lonely moments when he struggled with his resolve to resist his attraction to the young Welshman. From the way that he clutched at him, pulling him closer, he was sure that Ianto felt the same. After what seemed like an age, Jack drew away for a second and took in the beautiful sight of the other man, heavy lidded eyes now dark with what he hoped was the same amount of passion that he himself felt. He leaned in once more and placed a gentle peck to the button nose that he’d always admired so much. Ianto let out a barely audible soft moan and he moved his head lower to scatter similar tender kisses along Ianto’s jaw.

For a moment, all was perfection… until Jack became aware of Ianto’s arms dropping away. An instant later and the actor was disappointed to be pushed away.

“Shit!” Ianto ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry… Look, Jack, I’m not gay… I… well, I’m wasted… I’m sorry…” he repeated.

Suddenly the situation became clear to Jack, and he suddenly felt his disappointment turn to horror. He’d taken complete advantage of the state of the man sat next to him. “I’m the one who should be sorry… I blame it on the punch.” He paused, unsure of what to say or how to explain himself- and his actions. “I’m not actually gay, either…” he trailed off.

Ianto stood up. “I ought to go back inside… I… I’m really, really sorry… I’ve ruined everything.” He made towards the kitchen door, giving a final fleeting look back at the bench. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Jack didn’t even have time to try and reassure the other man that none of what had happened was his fault at all. Ianto was gone. He sat there for at least five minutes, possibly ten or longer, he couldn’t be sure, all he knew was that he’d fucked up royally. He might be leaving in a few days but it had never been his intention to upset the Lighting Engineer, much less to behave like a predator towards someone he regarded as a friend that he would have liked to keep in touch with.

When he eventually returned to the party, Ianto was nowhere to be seen.

***

To Be Continued…

Notes/glossary:
Lime- follow spot

Title: "Back Stage: Enter Stage Left, Act I"
Rating: Varies between chapters- all warnings posted with each chapter.
Spoilers/Disclaimers : Torchwood, belongs to the BBC and RTD, I’m just borrowing the characters- I own nothing here, nor do I make any money! So please don't prosecute! It’s an AU story, so I’m pretty sure that it shouldn’t spoil anyone’s enjoyment of Torchwood itself.
Summary: Torchwood characters in a story set in the contemporary world of UK theatre/entertainment.
A/N: Sorry! I meant to post this much earlier, but life’s got in the way again! However, I will be posting another two chapters in quick succession, so I hope I’m forgiven… and I’ll be updating all the chapter list on Thursday.

Chapter List- http://wanda1969.dreamwidth.org/23356.html

Chapter 7

( Read more... )

Title: "Back Stage: Enter Stage Left, Act I"
Rating: Varies between chapters- all warnings posted with each chapter.
Spoilers/Disclaimers : Torchwood, belongs to the BBC and RTD, I’m just borrowing the characters- I own nothing here, nor do I make any money! So please don't prosecute! It’s an AU story, so I’m pretty sure that it shouldn’t spoil anyone’s enjoyment of Torchwood itself.
Summary: Torchwood characters in a story set in the contemporary world of UK theatre/entertainment.
A/N: This one’s for chironsgirl, who so rightly pointed out that Tech rehearsal can be one of the most boring activities known to man, also emryldlady who fell off a scaff and survived!

Chapter Lists (to be updated this week-I’m a little behind!):
DW- http://wanda1969.dreamwidth.org/23356.html
LJ- http://wanda1969.livejournal.com/23796.html

Chapter 5

( Read more... )

Title: "Back Stage: Enter Stage Left, Act I"
Rating: Varies between chapters- all warnings posted with each chapter.
Spoilers/Disclaimers : Torchwood, belongs to the BBC and RTD, I’m just borrowing the characters- I own nothing here, nor do I make any money! So please don't prosecute! It’s an AU story, so I’m pretty sure that it shouldn’t spoil anyone’s enjoyment of Torchwood itself.
Summary: Torchwood characters in a story set in the contemporary world of UK theatre/entertainment.
A/N: Another AU, I’m afraid! Fun, friendship, romance and behind the scenes shenanigens… focussing on Ianto Jones (a lighting engineer) and Jack Harkness (a jobbing actor/’turn’).

Chapter List: http://wanda1969.dreamwidth.org/23356.html

Chapter 3

( Read more... )

Title: “Back Stage: Enter Stage Left, Act I”
Rating: Varies between chapters- possible mature content in later chapters
Spoilers/Disclaimers: Torchwood belongs to the BBC and RTD, I’m just borrowing the characters. It’s an AU story, so I’m pretty sure it shouldn’t spoil anyone’s enjoyment of Torchwood itself.
Summary: Torchwood characters in a story set in the contemporary world of UK Theatre/Entertainment.

Chapter List

Back Stage: Enter Stage Left, Act I

Chapter 1: http://wanda1969.dreamwidth.org/23067.html
Chapter 2: http://wanda1969.dreamwidth.org/23656.html
Chapter 3: http://wanda1969.dreamwidth.org/24010.html
Chapter 4: http://wanda1969.dreamwidth.org/24267.html
Chapter 5: http://wanda1969.dreamwidth.org/24327.html
Chapter 6: http://wanda1969.dreamwidth.org/24703.html
Chapter 7: http://wanda1969.dreamwidth.org/24977.html
Chapter 8: http://wanda1969.dreamwidth.org/25269.html
Chapter 9: http://wanda1969.dreamwidth.org/25416.html
Chapter 10: http://wanda1969.dreamwidth.org/25817.html
Chapter 11: http://wanda1969.dreamwidth.org/26041.html

Back Stage: Interval

Chapter 1: http://wanda1969.dreamwidth.org/26286.html
Chapter 2: http://wanda1969.dreamwidth.org/26372.html
Chapter 3: http://wanda1969.dreamwidth.org/26779.html
Chapter 4: http://wanda1969.dreamwidth.org/26976.html
Chapter 5: http://wanda1969.dreamwidth.org/27245.html

Back Stage: Act II

Chapter 1: http://wanda1969.dreamwidth.org/27493.html
Chapter 2:
Chapter 3:
Chapter 4:
Chapter 5:

Title: "Come Fly With Me"
Rating: Adult concepts- but not explicit this chapter.
Spoilers/Disclaimers : Torchwood, belongs to the BBC and RTD, I’m just borrowing the characters.
Summary: Torchwood characters in a story set in the glamorous world of international travel!
A/N: Well, here is the final chapter- I never expected this story to go on for so long, and I certainly didn’t expect it to go quite in the direction it did. It turned into more of a ‘coming out’ tale rather than the purely romantic M&B/ Harlequin that I was going for. The last chapter isn’t quite how I envisaged it either; my laptop malfunctioned the other week, and although I salvaged some work it’s not the same as when I started out. I hope that the ending isn’t too much of a saccharine disappointment!
I’d also like to thank all of you who have stuck with this despite the gaps between posting some of the chapters- you know who you are!
PS I have no Idea what's goign on- DW won't let me post in rich text, so goodness knows how this will look if I'm successful in posting!

Chapter List: http://wanda1969.dreamwidth.org/1863.html

Chapter 42

***

Around Six Months Later

The Christmas tree lights seemed to twinkle, or perhaps it was just the happy alcohol haze- Ianto wasn’t one for those flashing, sequenced, coloured fairy lights that were all the rage these days, so he’d insisted on simple, old fashioned white lights- no ‘flashing’ involved. In fact, he and Jack had told themselves that the only reason that they were buying a tree at all was for when Rhiannon, Johnny and the kids came up to visit. Not that the kids were taking any notice of the tree or its lights just now; they were resolutely fixated by the X-Box game that they were playing, completely oblivious to the Welshman who’d only popped his head in on his way to the back to the garden to see if they wanted to grab some food.

***

“It’s no good, Rhi,” he said, returning to the kitchen. “If they even noticed I was there, they hid it well…”
“In that case, they’ll all get what they’re given,” she replied forcefully and stalked outside and towards the now customary barbeque. Ianto had wondered about Johnny’s obsession with the things, before finally coming to the conclusion that his enthusiasm was entirely due to the opportunities it gave for avoiding girly chat in the house- not forgetting the numerous prospects of surreptitious cigarettes. Johnny was, indeed, hovering over the grill, a fag in one hand and a spatula in the other, almost comically careful to make sure that the hand holding the cigarette, and the subsequent ash, stayed as far away from the food as possible as he sheltered under the makeshift tarpaulin that Jack had had the foresight to erect over the small patio. As soon as spring kicked in Jack had plans to build (or more precisely, get built) a tiled, covered area to protect Johnny’s beloved barbeque- otherwise known as ‘The Incinerator’- from the all too frequent British rain.

Rhys was there too, and a small huddle of some of the Exiles’ member sheltered from the insistent drizzle, along with Owen and Jack. Ianto had taken Rhys up on his offer to join the Exiles to watch some of the televised rugby matches a few months back; he’d been welcomed and then was slightly surprised that a group of such ‘blokey’ blokes invited Jack to the next session, despite Ianto’s protestations that Jack knew nothing about the sport. When Ianto finally capitulated and dragged Jack down to the pub for the Wales vs. Ireland friendly it turned out that the older man had been paying more attention than he’d thought when he’d been watching the odd Saturday fixture. By the end of the match the two men found themselves being invited back the next weekend.

Even the infamous-and notorious- Banana boat was there. After Jack and Ianto had arranged his flight out of Ibiza after a package holiday company collapse, Banana Boat had the utmost respect for the captain and the flight attendant- even if they were ‘poofters’, as he’d once said in his own outspoken way, without any intention to insult.

Three other Exiles players had come along to the Christmas gathering: Huw had brought his wife, and their teenage son was currently happily occupied by the indoor video games with the other kids; Glyn had come with his girlfriend who was chattering away to Huw’s wife and Emma and Gwen in the kitchen, lapping up tales of international travel and admiring Emma’s latest creation, a beautifully tailored black, silk dress. The last of the trio was the unattached Peter, who had been rather too enthusiastic when the invitation to the party had been extended to him- just as soon as Ianto had mentioned that several of his crew mates- air hostesses- would be coming along. Still, Ianto noted, Pete was huddled next to the barbeque for warmth, far away from the supposedly alluring cabin crew. He was constantly amazed by the reactions of some people to his career; most were envious of opportunities to visit exotic lands and be paid for it, too- a few treated them almost as unapproachable celebrities. Pete was obviously in the latter camp- slightly in awe of the glamour of the stewardesses. Ianto made a mental note to make sure that he introduced Pete to Emma later- he was a nice guy and something told him that those two may well be a match.

He paused to look around the garden. His Mam, Bethan, was there, now deep in conversation with Rhiannon. Beth’s friend Ffion had suggested the two women spent the Festive season away, but she’d steadfastly refused even if her eyes had betrayed a twinkle of excitement at a Christmas spent in the sun with an all important, all inclusive, ‘all you can eat’ buffet. Whatever Ianto and Jack’s views on a ‘fly and flop’ holiday, as they called it in the trade, they’d quickly totted up their Air Miles and bought the ticket to Tenerif-ee for just after New Year instead, although the truth was that he’d seen more of his Mam in the last twelve months, while he was with Jack, than he had done in the last three years with Lisa.

***

“Well, who’d have thought, this time a couple of years ago, that you’d be all settled down!” ‘Doc’ Smith nudged his shoulder against Jack’s and then appeared thoughtful, before he raised his eyebrows and spoke as if to himself. “Oh! I did, didn’t I?!”

“You did, did you?” Jack said with amusement- and a certain amount of disbelief.

John turned to look at him more seriously. “Of course. You’re not one for showing off your beaux.” Jack cocked his head at the archaic word. “And- come off it, don’t give me that look- it was obvious he was special when you brought him to Sarah Jane’s that time… and Ianto, well, he was interested but kind of unsure. It was cute!”

“I’d be careful there, Doc!” The pilot laughed, thinking of Ianto’s reactions to some of John Hart’s comments- and he knew that being called ‘cute’ didn’t come high on the young man’s list of descriptions of him. Unless it was Jack saying it, of course. “Ianto doesn’t react well to being called cute.”

“I didn’t say he was cute- although I suppose he is…” Distractedly, John’s eyes settled on the young man in question, stood just outside the kitchen door. “But that’s not the point,” he grinned. “The point is that if I was a betting man I would have put money on you two staying together.”

“You would?”

“Yeah- all Ianto needed to do was get used to the idea of going out with you. Which must have been quite a struggle, knowing how infuriating and irritating you can be!”

He ignored John’s appraisal of him; yes, he had been hard to live with in the past, especially when he was married, but with Ianto he knew that he’d wanted to be a better person- be worthy of him, even- and he trusted that he had been. “Me? I guess Ianto brings out the best in me.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me in the least if he does, Jack. Not in the least.”


***

After seeing the last of the stragglers out, only Ianto’s family were left as he made his way around the kitchen, wearily tidying away a few empty bottles and cans, ready for recycling the next day. He paused to look out of the window and smiled as he saw Rhys and Jack similarly employed clearing away the accumulated debris from around the barbeque.

“A penny for them, Ianto?”

Bethan Jones’ voice startled Ianto from his deliberations.

“Just thinking, Mam,” he smiled at her. “Just thinking how I never expected to be here…”

Beth followed his gaze as he stared out into the garden and placed her glass down on top of the kitchen cabinets.

“Oh, Ianto…” his mother sighed. “I know… and I never expected to have two sons-in-law, at least not at the same time.” She laughed.

“Not, as I’ve told you before, part of the life plan,” he said as he turned to her. “Look, Mam… you’ve been brilliant this year. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you- and Rhi- you know, being OK about Jack. I was struggling a bit with it myself, as it was.” It was true that although Ianto had privately accepted that he was seeing a man, he had had more difficulty in being open about the relationship in public; it was only when he’d come clean about it all to his family that he felt more at ease admitting that he was going out with Jack, and he was sure that without their acceptance he would never been able to come to terms with everything so quickly.

“We’re family, son, of course we wanted to see you happy. And Jack does make you happy and he adores you- I’d be a fool not to see that,” she stepped forward and gathered him into a hug. “Not to mention,” she said quietly, hardly able to contain her amusement as she knew her next comment would have Ianto blushing with embarrassment, “He’s cute- Rhiannon was right!”

“Mam,” Ianto admonished and pulled away, and Beth saw that her son’s cheeks were, indeed, suffused with a pink flush. He didn’t have a chance to scold her further as Jack appeared in the doorway with an armful of paper plates and a bag of rubbish. He quickly set them all down on the work surface, and appeared to take in the red tinge currently gracing his partner’s cheeks. Ianto could see that the other man was unsure of quite what to do, wondering if he’d barged into one of those family moments; the fact that Bethan Jones was grinning happily and that the young Welshman sported a relaxed, but slightly self conscious, air seemed to reassure him. Whatever Jack had interrupted, he reached his arm around Ianto’s waist and rather chastely kissed him on the brow and then drew back.

“Well, it’s more or less clear out there. Johnny’s just got a few bags and stuff to bring in,” he said uncertainly, looking between mother and son.

Beth laughed out loud, before composing herself and smiling once more. “Don’t look so worried- I was just telling Ianto that I never thought I’d end up with two sons-in-law.” She paused and Jack worried exactly what she was about to say. “And definitely not two such gorgeous ones. Here’s to 2012- keep my boy happy, Jack!” Beth reached out and grabbed her half empty wine glass from the counter top, and raised it in a solo toast.

Unusually, the pink stain which crept across Jack’s cheeks matched his boyfriend’s.

“Strictly speaking, Mam, Jack’s not your son-in-law…” Ianto managed to say through his embarrassment.

“We could easily sort that one out, Ianto,” Jack replied with a wiggle of his eyebrows and a wide smile. His fingers gripped at Ianto’s hip a little more tightly. This was a conversation they’d had before, when they’d been buying the house. And both of them had come to the conclusion that no Civil Partnership or ceremony was needed; their bank account was a joint one, the house had been bought in both their names, and they had even nominated each other in their pensions and all other legal documentation- and neither of them really wanted any fuss about it all. Ianto knew that the other man was winding him up, and, just a little, saying just what his Mam wanted to hear.

The Welshman coloured even more, if it was possible, although he knew Jack wouldn’t be offended by what he said. “I really don’t think that’s necessary, Jack. I think we’re both secure enough without all that… silliness. I’m happy with everything the way it is.

Beth had been wishing that the two men would take her hint. Now that she’d got used to the idea of Ianto having a boyfriend, of all things, she had realised that she would be more than happy if the two tied the knot. Or at least, as close to it. “Well, a mother can hope…”

“Mam!” Ianto reproached her for the second time in as many minutes.

“Don’t think I haven’t suggested it, Bethan. Ianto doesn’t seem to support the idea of Civil Partnerships. He associates them with celebrity articles in ‘Hello!’ magazine.”

“That’s not quite what I said,” Ianto almost pouted at Jack. “I just don’t want all that fuss… or people wondering which one of us is the Elton John of the proceedings…”

“Or, worse, the David Furnish…”

“I always liked Elton John in the ‘70s…” she trailed away.

Ianto’s eyes darted upwards briefly. “That’s not what I meant, Mum… I just don’t think either of us need all that pomp and ceremony. And I could have used any high profile Civil Partnership…”

“Ah well, one day, maybe?” she laughed and finished her glass of wine. At her son’s flustered look she quickly added, “Ianto, I’m only joking. I’m happy enough with the way things are- and you two certainly seem to be. And, on that note, it’s time for my bed.” She leant forward and kissed each of them on the cheek, before heading out of the kitchen and towards the stairs and the spare bedroom.

“I’m sorry about that, Jack,” Ianto finally said.

“What for? You know what Moms are like- I guess she just wants what she thinks best for you, and an opportunity to go out shopping for a wedding outfit!”

“You’re probably not far off there!” He laughed, and then added more seriously, “We are alright though? I mean, you know… if you wanted to... I would…”

“Hey,” Jack grinned and lifted his other hand to Ianto’s neck, turning the younger man’s head towards him before speaking quietly. “I’m more than happy just the way things are. I kind of gave up worrying that you were going to realise you’d made some kinda mistake and go running for the hills a while back.”

That was all it took for Ianto to slip his arms around the other man’s waist as the two men’s lips met.
It was only when the noise of the rattling of glasses, accompanied by a deep Welsh voice- “Bloody Hell, you two- are you trying to scar me for life?!”- alerted them to Johnny’s presence that the two broke apart self consciously.

“What can I say, Johnny? Rhiannon’s little brother is irresistible,” Jack responded, unabashed.

It seemed to Ianto that he was blushing furiously for the hundredth time in ten minutes- ‘Really,’ he thought to himself, ‘I should surely have got used to this- and Jack’s comments- by now…’

“Ja…” he started in protest, but was interrupted by his fellow Welshman before he could even finish his first word.

“Well, he’s a great brother-in-law… But I’m not sure about irresistible…” He chuckled and deposited the stacks of glasses and cups he was balancing in his two hands onto the worktop. “Anyway, more or less sorted out there- Nothing that can’t wait until morning,” he waved towards the garden and now extinguished grill.

“Thanks, Johnny,” Ianto replied, still kicking himself for his inability to control his natural reactions to his own embarrassment- and he knew he no longer had any reason to be embarrassed, if he ever did in the first place.
“Right… I’d best go and get the kids and Rhi and get back to the hotel, or else we won’t get back in the morning to see you before the train… I’ll go and get them,” and he headed out of the door, towards the Sitting Room, where David and Misca had finally succumbed to sleep on the sofa, whilst Rhiannon, half asleep herself, was flicking through the TV channels, desperate for something to watch to keep herself in the land of the living.

Ianto watched him leave and Jack grabbed his hand and moved in the direction of the door. “C’mon you, let’s say goodnight. The sooner Rhi and Johnny go to their hotel, the sooner we can go to bed.”

“Sounds like a plan…”

Yep, it looked like life was going pretty well.

***
The End