lj community dwtwprompts prompt: Old
Date Written: 7/3/08
Word Count: 1,528
Characters/Pairings: Jack/Ianto, Doctor, OC
Spoilers: Torchwood Season 1 & 2, Doctor Who Season 03
Warnings: M-preg, angst, adult themes Author's Notes: Last chapter!
He had a different face now, Ianto Jones; long and thin, with bright green eyes and pale hair. A different accent too, more like Jack's, more American although he'd slip into accents on certain words. The Doctor had said it was a sometimes side-effect of regeneration, taking on some of the more linguistic properties of people they love from rebirth to rebirth.
He was so different, but still fundamentally the same. Same dry sense of humor. Same magical touch with his coffee, in their bedroom. Same slow, secretive smile.
Still his Ianto, and Jack would take him any way he came.
The years had been good to them. Three hundred years together before Ianto had been forced into his second regeneration. Three hundred years of Torchwood teams and Cardiff take-away, Weevil hunting and quiet romantic nights in, traveling the universe and saving it over half the time.
The new Ianto Jones, he'd worried. Been afraid that Jack wouldn't like his new form, the new personality. There were quirks to get around; a quicker temper, a sharper tongue, a double-heartbeat against his own sad single one at night. But the old Ianto still shone through, and it was that Ianto that Jack Harkness adored with all he had.
They'd retired from Torchwood not long after -- well, sort of. One never really retires from Torchwood, Ianto had pointed out. They'd given up their duties and gone freelance, drawing the Torchwood salary while picking and choosing projects together and acting as consultants and occasional goodwill ambassadors.
Their mobiles were constantly ringing.
They'd cleared their schedules for one of these so-called goodwill meetings. The moment the big blue box had landed in their garden, a blonde ball of energy had rushed outside to hug the Doctor. The ancient Time Lord had, in return, laughed and scooped her up, swinging his great-great granddaughter around the outside of the TARDIS.
Jack and Ianto had let him name her when she'd been born and he'd picked Susan, after Ianto's mother. Her long blonde hair was down to waist-level now, it had been shorter the last time he'd seen her, and Jack's bright blue eyes danced whenever she laughed. So clever, beloved by anyone and everyone who met her.
She was going to be amazing. The Doctor kept threatening to kidnap her for a trip or three, just to rile up her parents.
The Doctor had cried all those years ago, when Jack and Ianto told him that they'd miscarried. He'd sunk to the ground in the control room, buried his face in his hands and wept openly. For all of his protests over it being Jack's baby, he'd actually been happy for them, had wanted it.
Jack and Ianto had cried too, when they'd woken up and found blood on the sheets. They'd never had an ultrasound done, hadn't seen the pixelated image on a screen or heard a room fill with the sound of a rapid-fire heartbeat, so it hadn't been real. Seeing the smear of red on the sheets had made the finality of their acts hit home. They'd stumbled off the bed and held each other, rocking back and forth until the grief subsided.
It still hurt, sometimes, when Jack sat and thought about the might-have-beens, or saw Ianto's thoughtful gaze when he watched their daughter play. There was the ghost of regret that lingered.
Ianto was leaning against the door frame, watching little Susan talk double time to the Doctor, and grinning as the Doctor hung on every word. Jack came up behind his partner, wrapping his arms around the Time Lord's waist. He smiled and flattened his hands out over the swell of Ianto's stomach. "Y'know, I think she could steal the moon out of the sky and he'd just laugh at her," he commented.
He just laughed softly, leaning into Jack's embrace and putting his hands over the ones on his stomach. "I think he'd help her, just to see her smile," Ianto countered. He gave a little bit of a gasp, moving one of Jack's hands a little lower and pressing it in.
The immortal laughed a little when he felt the telltale movement of their child flit across his palm through the stretched skin of Ianto's stomach. He leaned in to kiss the juncture of Ianto's neck, pulling him closer.
"Oi, not in front of the kid!" the Doctor teased behind them, laughing as he hoisted Susan up onto his back. The little girl laughed and grabbed at his shoulders.
The older Time Lord came over to press a fond kiss to Ianto's cheek, one hand coming up to rub the bump in greeting. Susan giggled over his shoulder. "Daddy and Tad have been fighting over what to name Little Brother!" she announced.
The Doctor grinned at her over his shoulder. He still got a kick out of the Welsh name; Ianto had been Welsh for far too long, it was practically imprinted into him now. "They have, have they?" he asked, tickling a bare foot.
"I suggested John, since both our names are diminutives of it," Jack said.
Ianto just crossed his arms. "We have bad experiences with people named John," the Time Lord reminded him.
Jack rolled his eyes. Three hundred years, and Ianto still had his vendetta against John Hart. The man was long dead, for fuck's sake.
The Doctor laughed. "You've still got some time yet to pick a name out." He swung Susan off his back with a practiced ease, setting her down. "C'mon, kiddo, we're going to get things ready to take Little Brother's picture."
"Yay, TARDIS!" she cried, hurrying across the garden. The TARDIS flung her doors open wide as the little girl neared, and Susan didn't even have to slow down.
"She gets all the running from you," Ianto and Jack deadpanned.
The Doctor just laughed. "This is the good running!" he said, hurrying after his great-great granddaughter.
"Some walking sometimes would be nice," Ianto grumbled good-natured. Jack smiled, taking his hand as they headed towards the blue police box.
"Susan, don't you dare push that button, young lady!"
Susan insisted on sleeping with the Doctor on the TARDIS that night. Neither Jack nor Ianto were ignorant as to why, they all knew that both the TARDIS and the Doctor spoiled her rotten on the sleepovers. Neither minded, either, as long as they stayed put while she was still so young; she always came back with stories the Doctor had told her, and with books and presents that she'd been showered with.
Jack currently had his ear on Ianto's stomach, his eyes closed, imaging that he heart the the murmur of a triple heartbeat -- the faint echo of Ianto's double heart behind the murmur of their son's quicktime.
Long fingers slid through his hair, gently scratching Jack's scalp. "Going to come up here any time tonight?" he teased softly.
"Mmm, eventually," Jack replied, turning to press a series of soft kisses onto Ianto's stomach, his hand stroking the rest of the bump. He smiled a little when he felt the baby kicking again and murmured soft encouragements against Ianto's skin.
"And so it begins," Ianto deadpanned. "Can't wait for him to find my kidneys."
Jack laughed softly, climbing up to settle properly next to Ianto. He spooned up behind his partner, cradling him close and placing a protective hand over the Time Lord's stomach. Jack still had no need for sleep, but chasing after his daughter, dealing with three -- count 'em, three -- weekly emergencies, and caring for Ianto tended to tire him out. Ianto still slept more than he did, probably always would, but he seemed to drop off easier when Jack was lying next to him.
He'd been thinking more than he should lately, about all those years ago. If they hadn't gone through with it, they'd have another child. Possibly. Life in Torchwood was never easy, and there was a chance that they would have buried a child. He'd done that once, and he never wanted to do it again.
Still, the thought was a persistent one. These two, carefully planned and waited for. What if they'd had the first? The Doctor probably would have secconed him the second the kid could walk. It had taken the ancient Time Lord enough time to trust Jack with his great-grandson, but to trust him with a kid too?
And above all, what did Ianto think of all of this?
"Stop that," Ianto murmured sleepily. "You're thinking too loudly again."
Jack chuckled softly, kissing Ianto's shoulder. The younger Time Lord's psychic powers weren't as strong as his great-grandfather's, but they were there. And with as long as Jack and Ianto had been together, there was no way they wouldn't have formed some sort of bond by now.
"I don't regret anything," he said softly, snuggling closer to Jack. "Now can we please go to sleep before he wakes me up at three in the morning when he finds my intestines?"
Jack smiled and kissed his ear. "Love you, Ianto Jones."
"Mmm, same here, idiot," Ianto replied fondly.
"You always say the sweetest things."