Ianto didn't die. The Doctor helped Jack stop the 456. Ianto Jones and Jack Harkness just got married. How can anything go wrong? Revisit the gang at the Hub, along with Martha and Mickey as well as two new characters, Rabbi Aliyah Teelbalum (an...
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Chapter Ten
I call 9, 1, 1, when I'm in a fix
When I need you baby I call 6, 6, 6,
I'm in trouble
- Trouble with Crickets by Alannah Myles
Ianto woke up lazily in his Egyptian sheets with his Aunt Eleri's quilt covering his feet. He opened one eye to glance at the nightstand clock – 5:23am, February 13th. "Damn," he thought, "I'll have to get to the shops early to get those chocolates Jack . . ." It suddenly dawned on him that he'd lost a day, maybe two and "where was . . . .." Ianto only had to shift slightly to realize Jack was behind him, sleeping quietly. Just to make sure, Ianto moved his hand behind him and ran it along the sleeping person's hip – Ianto would know that firm hip and thigh anywhere but Jack whispering, "Okay, okay but Ianto Jones, let me sleep just a while longer, eh?" and turned onto his other side affirmed that all was right with the world, at least for now. Ianto took in and let out a cleansing breath and eased out of bed. Whoever made sure he got to the bed was concerned about his or their modesty for he was wearing boxers. He grabbed a fresh suit combination from the nearby closet before heading for a shower but turned around long enough to cover Jack's back. "Don't forget to get that Ethiopian dark blend I like," Jack murmured as he snuggled within the sheet. Ianto halted a moment, taking it in another breath – normal, tender moments are tenuous when you work for Torchwood.
Ianto showered and left the Hub as quick and quietly as possible, with his diary firmly tucked under his arm. He knew Anwen would have the Williams' up soon and he wanted to get out without much sharing with Gwen and the others. If he timed things right, he could get the morning shopping, along with Jack's Valentine's gift tended to as well as do this rather complex entry before lunch. He could excuse his absence by bringing everyone back at the Hub bangers from Peg and Wigg.
"Haven't seen you much lately, Mr. Jones," greeted his typical morning barista, Marg.
"Yep, been busy." Ianto knew the college student had a crush on him and if he hadn't married Jack, he would have asked her out for she made a brilliant espresso. "Can I get a three bags of the Ethiopian and one of the Columbian?"
"No problem," she said, bending down just enough to pull the bags out of the nearby bin and expose the top of her breasts. "Your office mates must drink an awful lot of coffee, I reckon, Mr. Jones," she said with extra sugar.
"Yes," he answered, smiling slightly but not trying to encourage her flirting. "Could I get a large red eye too please?"
Marg winked, "Enough room for cream?"
"Not this time," Ianto replied while handing her the money, "Keep the change." He dashed to a faraway table, opened his diary, and quickly hung his Bose headphones over his ears like some huge "do not disturb" sign. His iPhone was in the mood for Chopin. He scanned at his last entry from the day before the wedding: I know I want this but what the fuck am I doing? What am I getting myself into? "Well, now I know," he said to himself before he started writing:
