waldos_writings: (Torchwood fic)
[personal profile] waldos_writings
Title: Mars Meets Venus
Pairing: Jack/Ianto, past Jack/John Hart
Rating: R
Word Count: 5211 (both parts together)
Spoilers: Everything.  No, seriously, everything.  I have used info from "Everything Changes" opening scene to canon on Jack's past gleaned from "Exit Wounds" and most everything in between.
Warning: This story deals with the natural death (as opposed to an act of violence) of an infant.
Summary:
  Jack was serious, he never does want to be pregnant again.  He's still too raw from the last time.
Author's Notes
:  This is the post-"Something Borrowed" story for the "What Happens Tomorrow" series.  The rest of the series can be found here...1. Come Undone  (Post KKBB)  2. Dancing on the Valentine, Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3  3.Starting to Remember (Post Meat)

Someone is perfect for you (when Mars meets Venus)
Do you wanna bet your life they're gonna be perfect for you too? (Mars meets Venus)

New-age man - shake me up... - gay guy -
... long-term relationship ...missing something -
Say...are you the one?... are you the one?



Jack’s reverie was broken by the cog door rolling back and the sound of a heavy box being dragged across the floor.

He put the pictures in their box and closed it before setting it on the corner of his desk. The alarms hadn’t gone off, no point in scaring the hell out of whichever of his team was dragging themselves into the Hub. He moved to the door and sighed. Ianto, of course. Carrying the small rocket launcher Jack had used to take out the shapeshifter.

Ianto looked up, completely nonplussed to have Jack standing there watching him. “Thought it best to return this to the archives so we know where it is when the next shapeshifting, egg-laying, homicidal, mother-of-the-year comes through the rift.” He continued to drag the heavy case to the stairwell.

Jack moved around behind him so that Ianto would bump into him as he hauled the box backwards. Jack had a feeling the look Ianto shot him was only partially because he was blocking his way to the dumb-waiter in the stairwell. “Ianto when I asked you to take the SUV around, the idea was then you’d get in your car and go home for the night.

“I know,” Ianto said curtly. “But it didn’t seem like a good idea to leave this out overnight.”

“It’s not like anyone’s going to be able to get it out of the SUV,” Jack objected.

This time the frustration and fatigue in Ianto’s face had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Jack had gotten between him and the stairs. “Fine. I’ll put it away and go home. Sir.”

Jack didn’t move. This had nothing do with the big honking gun.

“What have I done, Ianto?” he asked quietly.

Even with a view of Ianto’s back Jack knew that Ianto had closed his eyes and he could see Ianto’s shoulders flex and contract as he took a deep breath and calmed himself. Jack wondered if anything short of killing someone he loved again would get Ianto to lose control and tell Jack exactly what he thought of him. He’d gone ahead and asked the question, but he had a pretty good idea what he’d done to piss Ianto off. He wasn’t sure if it was his own masochistic tendencies or if he really thought it would be good for Ianto to chew him out for what he’d done that had made him ask. But he’d known, even as the words left his mouth, that it would be a struggle to get Ianto to actually confront him. It would probably be an even bigger struggle for him to keep Ianto from circling the conversation back around until Jack confessed. Ianto was good at that.

Ianto looked less angry and more sad and defeated when he finally faced Jack again. His voice was softer, more controlled as Jack expected. “Nothing, Jack. I am very tired, it’s been an exceptionally long and taxing day. I apologize for my temper. I’m just going to stow this and then I’ll follow your advice.”

And only Ianto could make it sound like he was the one at fault when Jack knew exactly how wrong he’d been on so many levels that night. He couldn’t think of the first way to begin digging them out of the stalemate they were in, now that Ianto was emphasizing his own minor misbehavior and putting the blame for the tension on himself. Jack wanted them both to have a little dignity when the night was over, but he couldn’t seem to find an opening.

He was well aware that the night could easily turn into a fist-fight, knock down, yelling match or they could both stand there and try to freeze each other out.

In an unexpected sense of blind panic Jack began to think that if they didn’t deal with what happened that night that night that it could very easily be all over for the two of them outside of what would become a very distant, very stiff working relationship. Jack had mused a great deal of the night on what he had to offer someone like Ianto and he hadn’t come up with much. But something had made Ianto want whatever it was and Jack was loathe to lose it. Lose him.

Just as suddenly he realized that he needed time to get his own racing thoughts under control before he could give Ianto the answers he deserved.

“Do me a favor. Store that and stop in my office for a bit.” He held up a hand when Ianto started to object. “I know; you’re tired. I just want to talk for a few minutes, okay? Just… for a little while.”

Ianto nodded, his face still tense as he bent back to the box and schlepped it off to the archives.

Jack ran his hands over his face a few times, scrubbing at the skin and rubbing his eyes. He went into his office and took two glasses and the decanter of scotch off his desk. Almost as an after thought he grabbed the one picture that hadn’t made it back into the tin and tucked it into his shirt between his oxford and his t-shirt. He poured them each a small drink, knowing that in Ianto’s state he was likely to pass out from exhaustion with just the slightest bit of help from the alcohol. He sat on the sofa across from Tosh’s station, the decanter on the table; handy, just in case.

Ianto came back up a few minutes later, brushing dust off his pants and hands. Jack held out a hand. “Come here.”

Ianto still looked less angry and more depressed and Jack had a feeling that it would be easier to do this as an argument than wading through six levels of Ianto’s issues of inadequacy before getting to Jack’s trust issues.

Ianto sat and Jack handed him a glass. Ianto didn’t even question the wisdom of drinking in his state and with the prospect of still having to drive home in front of him. Jack waited patiently for Ianto to switch the glass to his right hand, so that Jack could take his left in his own hand.

“I’m sorry for the way I acted tonight,” Jack finally said, his eyes fastened to the floor. “There was… I don’t…” He snatched his hand back and scrubbed it over his face as he collected his thoughts. “I hate weddings,” he finally said bluntly. “I’ve managed to avoid even going to one for the past seventy-five years. All I can think is…” Jack bit his lip and shifted as he noticed the edge of the picture poking him in the chest. “There are so many reasons I don’t fit in this time and this place. I suppose it’s a little better now than it was a hundred years ago, but my views on romance and relationships… they’ll never be understood here and yet I can’t change the way I am. I’ve tried twice. Both times ended… badly.”

Ianto leaned back on the sofa cushions, his head turned towards Jack. “How’s that? How are you so different than we are?” he asked quietly. It was on the tip of his tongue to make a smart remark about Jack’s willingness to shag anything up to and possibly including Captain John’s poodle, but he bit it back as he realized that this was hard enough for Jack. He had no idea where the conversation was going, but as he studied Jack he realized Jack was torn up by whatever thoughts and memories were plaguing him.

Jack finally looked up at him. “Can I ask you a really personal question? I promise it’s relevant.”

Ianto shrugged. Jack could ask, but he wasn’t going to guarantee an answer.

Jack took his hand again. “I’ve seen how much things have changed in the last quarter-century. Things are getting better, but humans… they aren’t there yet. People are getting more accepting of people who aren’t like them, but there’s still so much persecution,” Jack squeezed Ianto’s hand. “Were you ever bullied for having a boyfriend or liking guys or…”

Ianto sighed. “Jack… I…” He sighed. “I’ve never been with another man. I… you’re right things are changing and for the better, but I’ve seen the results of those who are braver than I am in the face of a world that isn’t changing fast enough.” He looked up at Jack through his lashes. “And I’ve never felt strongly enough before about someone to take the risk.”

Jack’s mouth opened and closed a few times but nothing came out. “I don’t think I realized that you felt you were risking something for… this. For me.”

“I notice you didn’t say you didn’t realize that you were the first man I’ve ever slept with.” Ianto felt himself blush with the words.

“That… became kind of apparent early on. But I don’t mind.” Jack turned his hand just enough to lace their fingers together.

Ianto wondered how many men had let Jack be their first. He swallowed a fit of irrational worry that he was just another in a long list of people who’d fallen for the legendary Harkness charm. He squeezed his eyes shut against the tightness in his chest at that thought.

“Why did you ask me if I’d had other men in my life?” Ianto asked trying to steer the conversation back to the point at hand.

“Because it might give you an idea of how I feel here. Sure, it’s becoming much more accepted that people might want to share their lives with a person of their same gender. But it’s not accepted that someone might want to share their life with more than one person.” Jack found his bitterness towards the old-fashioned, from his perspective, feelings of the current time creeping out in his tone.

“And it’s not about Gwen per se. Not really. I’m absolutely no good for her and I don’t think she’d be any good for me. It’s just the whole ‘get married and settle down’ thing. It’s so… limiting! Not to mention I suck at it.” Jack closed his eyes and let his breath out in a long sigh.

“And me? Am I good for you?” Ianto asked.

Jack turned his head to be sure he had eye contact with Ianto when he explained. “Yes. Gwen sees me as some kind of fairy tale hero. The fact that I can’t die just seems to reinforce that idea of a mythical prince who comes riding in on a white horse to rescue the maiden every time, even at the peril of his own life. She doesn’t see me for who I am – for all my flaws – because she refuses to acknowledge that I have any. That’s so fucking much to live up to.” Jack was suddenly slammed with the memories, the emotions of the last person who had looked at him from through those same rose-colored glasses and he began to feel a little sick. He didn’t need those memories complicating an already difficult situation.

Ianto began to feel sorry for Jack. Sometimes it was easy to forget how much responsibility Jack carried, how they all turned to him for the hard decisions and the best solution. And how often Jack managed something at the very last second. And how personally he took it when he couldn’t.

“You see me for me. You’re the first to tell me when I step out of line, when I get cocky and arrogant. You were the one who gave me the cold shoulder for three weeks after I got home from being with the Doctor. Gwen had her thirty-second hissy fit and basically handed me back the keys to the Hub no questions asked. You asked questions. You stayed with me that first night because I so desperately needed you, but you didn’t let me push you around and you didn’t come back to my bed until I’d made good on that promised date.”

“And the next,” Ianto interjected.

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Jack agreed. “You made me prove to you that I wasn’t using you, that I wouldn’t run out on you again, that everything I’d said to you was true.” He reached up and gently stroked Ianto’s hair. “You weren’t about to let me hurt you again, which meant I’d hurt you once – and I’m so sorry for that – but it told me that what you see is me and you’ll accept me for who I am. It’s been so very long since I’ve had that, Ianto.” Jack leaned in until his head rested against Ianto’s temple. “Gwen may think she loves me, but she doesn’t. She loves the action figure. We could pull the latest James Bond in here to work with her for a week and she’d be all over him. She’s in love with Rhys; I know that. But there’s a part of her – the part of her that makes her work here so valuable – that wants more excitement and adventure that marrying a trucking firm manager can give her. She’s not really all that fussed about who happens to be behind that fantasy.” Jack tossed back the rest of his drink and set his glass down, even as he debated another.

“And what about you,” Ianto asked. “What fantasy does she fulfill for you?”

Jack sat up and reached into his shirt. He withdrew the picture and handed it over to Ianto. He knew his voice would crack when he finally whispered, “Normality,” and it did.

“Who is she?” Ianto asked after studying the picture for a long minute. “I mean other than the obvious.”

“Her name was Celeste. I married her on twenty-eight April, 1896. In a rather bizarre turn of events, I was recruited to Torchwood in 1899. I actually told them to get stuffed the first few times I was approached because I knew Torchwood’s view on the Doctor. But…” Jack took the picture back and stared at the woman in it. “I’d realized that I’d made a horrible mistake in marrying her. There was one part of the equation that I’d just never factored in and it was that… I couldn’t stay. I faked my death left London for Cardiff and… ended up with Torchwood.”

“So soon? I mean, I can understand that after time… You told me about Estelle… But less than three years? What happened?”

Jack sighed and folded the protective paper around the picture again. “Her parents started pressuring us to have children.” Jack dropped the picture on the coffee table and leaned forward, his hands hanging between his knees, head bowed. “Before we got married I had convinced myself that I’d be okay with it, but the more we talked about it, really talked about it, the more I realized I couldn’t face outliving another child.”

“Another?” Ianto cut in. “You had a child?”

(no subject)

Date: 2008-04-29 08:47 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] hazelayes.livejournal.com
oh yes, I so agree here. May I join/form an orderly queue for smooshing the author? ;)

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