Ianto Jones left the offices of the local government at dead-on
twelve noon and walked the short distance to the cafe near to the
theatre. He was there by a quarter passed twelve and bought the
same sandwich - ham, mustard and pickle on rye - and the same vanilla
Latte as he'd done every day since the place had opened. He
bought a Twix and a newspaper from the shop next door and sat down at
one of the tables outside the cafe to eat his lunch. He preferred
to be outside, even at this crisp time of year.
What happened next would eventually change his life forever.
Although like most life-changing events, he didn't recognise it at the
time.
A man, a stranger, with dark hair and blue eyes, wearing black trousers
and a stained white T-shirt, came running up to him, grabbed his paper
and stared avidly at the headline on the front page, triumph in his
expression and in his single cry of, "YES!"
Grasping the paper, he leaned down close to Ianto and grinned.
"This is today's paper, right?" American accent, which almost
made sense, and Ianto nodded, dumb struck by this man whose hair was
matted and whose eyes were wild up close.
"Are those... blood stains?" He just had to ask, and it prompted the stranger to glance down at himself.
"Yeah, but it's okay because it's my blood." He handed back the
newspaper and opening a flap over what looked like a leather cuff on
his wrist, he seemed to be looking at the time. "What's your
name?" He told him. "Well, Ianto, this is one of the best
days of my life, and I'm happy to have shared it with you." And
without warning he took Ianto's face in both hands and kissed him for
just long enough that Ianto's lips began to move against the man's,
almost of their own accord. The stranger pulled back. "I'm
Jack."
"It's nice to meet you, Jack...." It was like a dream state, and
when he snapped out of it, Jack was already off and running, around the
circle of cafes and heading for Millennium Square.
Ianto left his coffee and his sandwich and followed. He didn't
know why he followed. He'd never done anything like this before
in his life and he would need to get back to work soon. But he
followed. And he saw the man who'd kissed him run up to a blue
Police Box that had been put in front of the water tower for some
reason and let himself in to it.
Ianto took a table at another cafe that gave him a perfect view of the
police box and bought another Latte and another sandwich - turkey and
cranberry on white. And he settled down to wait.
But four hours and six coffees later the man hadn't exited the police
box. Ianto was about to give up. His office had called him
six times but he'd ignored his mobile phone, eventually switching it
off. Still, he should put this whole day down to experience and
go home, call his PA and tell him that he was ill.
Then something even weirder happened. A small group of people -
three men and a young lady - approached the police box and bundled
inside a woman who looked to Ianto to be the spitting image of
Cardiff's new major, the one on the front of his newspaper.
Stranger still was that he would have sworn one of the three men was
the same man who'd kissed him without provocation. Jack.
He waited longer. But as impossible as it seemed that six people
could be inside that one small box for any length of time, no one came
out.
It started to get dark. The cafe closed up. And Ianto Jones went home.
The rest, as they say, is history. At least, for Ianto.
~
"Barcelona!" The Doctor watched Rose's face crumple and didn't
call her back when she ran. He heard her footsteps above and
beside and underneath him. That's how it was with the
TARDIS. Or at least he thought so. She'd get over it, get
used to it. They always did; something made sure that they
did. Mind you, sometimes they did and then they left. He'd
often considered how good it must have been for Time Lords to travel
with Time Lords. Simple. Then again there was the problem
of walking into your TARDIS, seeing the face of a stranger and not
being sure if you were in trouble or if your partner had simply
regenerated. So not simple. "Hello."
"Hi."
"Now how did you do that?"
The Doctor watched Captain Jack step out into the control room, hands
in the pockets of black trousers, stained T-shirt torn in places.
"Remember Cardiff, the rift?" It took a moment but the Doctor
nodded. "I hitched a lift. Had to remain hidden, of course,
because otherwise I would meet myself and we both know what an
embarrassment that is."
"But what about you who's dead....?"
"He's not dead. He's immortal. He's me."
"You're immortal?"
"Yeah, I need your help with that, by the way, when you're feeling up to it."
"And what will you who's not dead do now?"
"He'll spend an inordinate and not entirely pleasant amount of time
making his way back to Earth, back to 2004, where he'll hitch a
lift.... And on it'll go. You gotta love time
travel." The Doctor decided he had a headache. There was
something wrong with Jack's explanation, there had to be, but it would
take him a while to work it out. Maybe after a couple of
painkillers and some sleep. Lots of sleep. Jack was still
there, with the physical distance between them. "Like the new
look, by the way, very you, although I don't think the clothing goes -
that's more me."
"You weren't dead?" Jack shut up and shook his head. "We
left you there." This time it was a nod. "I'm so
sorry." The Doctor watched him carefully as he opened his mouth
to say something and but quite obviously changed his mind, changed his
expression at the last minute.
"Some other time, okay? What say we find your wardrobe and find you a suit that... suits you?"
Strolling across to his second companion, the Doctor put his arm around
Jack's waist, enjoying taking him by surprise, realising as he did how
great that feeling of liberation was. "Might have known you'd
take regeneration into your stride." He felt Jack's arm around
him, large fingers spreading on his hip.
"Looks like I might have to get used to it. At least I get to keep the good looks."
The Doctor laughed. It felt good to laugh. He lead the way
towards the universe's wildest wardrobe. "Is it bad?"
Jack's eyes on him did something to him that he thought he might get to
like. "No. It's not bad. It's good. It's very
good. I like it."
"Well, that's all right then. Come on. I think I fancy something in brown, or a pin-stripe."
fin
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