I had a plot bunny attack of the sugar-coated variety. This one is actually happy! I've done my first exam now and it went well so… I wrote this.
Disclaimer: lalalalala not listening not listening too you they are mine… mine all mine…
"How are you, Ianto?"
"All the better for having you back, Sir."
"Could we maybe drop the "Sir" now? I mean, while I was away, I was thinking. Maybe we could, you know, when this is all done: dinner, a movie..."
"Are you asking me out on a date?"
"Well, as long as it's not… not in an office. Some fetishes should be kept to yourself."
"Looks like we're going to have to go through every draw, bin and plant-pot."
"Right, Ok. I'll do this floor, don't want you getting over excited. You take the roof, you're good on roofs."
"Jack? Why are we helping him?"
"He's a reminder of my past, I want him gone… By the way, was that a yes?"
A perfect date. A perfect first date. Every moment of the play, the restaurant, the walk home in the moonlight… a perfect night.
I didn't think those were even possible.
Well, if anyone deserved it we did. Ianto did. After all the waiting I put him through. Every single time we set a time and place, every single damn time, my phone would go off literally half an hour before the date and I was called in again. Bloody Torchwood.
I got so angry about it. I yelled my head off, but he'd just give me a hug and say he knew all to well what it was like being employed by borderline schizophrenic alien-hunters, and it was all ok. Then he'd make some crack about Torchwood being the single greatest argument for inter-office relationships in the world. And I'd demand a share of whatever pills he was taking to stay so inhumanly relaxed. We laughed at that - he has a gorgeous smile.
I remember when I first met him. He brought me coffee. Served it up to me without needing to be asked, the perfect gentleman. It was his first day and he was nervous as hell. Normally I don't have any time for that, but uncertainty is strangely attractive on him. It's the contrast, I think, the hesitant eyes against the steadiness of his voice. The way he stands completely still and self contained, but a bit to the side so as not to intrude.
One thing led to another, and then – tonight. He dressed impeccably, of course. It's rather annoying, sometimes, to be out-dressed by your date, but I can cope. The play was brilliant - I laughed the whole way through - and the food was wonderful. Adorably, he got a bit of chocolate mousse on his cheek. Even better, he didn't seem to mind at all the funny glances we got when I leaned over and licked it off. I was surprised myself – that isn't usually my style. Now we're back at my place, and ever the patient one, he's on the couch waiting for me to slip into something more comfortable.
"Lisa? You ready? Your show is starting…"
"I was beginning to think I meet need to come in there and tickle you out – oh, wow. How do you do it?"
"Make an oversized, ancient Rolling Stones t-shirt look so damn sexy?"
That's it. He should know better than to tease me 'bout my shirt. I love this shirt. He's getting a pillow to the face.
"Ooomph! I surrender, I surrender, gerrof…"
"You should know better than to cross me, Ianto Jones… oh, Yan, what did you think of the restaurant?"
"I loved it."
"I can't believe you've never been there before."
"Be fair, Lissie, I've only been in London for six months."
"Well, I suppose I am willing to supply the local knowledge…"
I can ask him now. God, why am I so scared? I know he loves me. We've been together a long time now, even if we are doing things backwards and going on our first date four months in. Hell, he sleeps at my place more than I do. Just take a deep breath and slip it in.
"So… you wouldn't mind going back there next week? My parents are in town and I was thinking… maybe… we could go out…"
He's staring. Shit. Is he scared? If I'm perfectly honest he has every reason to be. If I bring a Welsh, white-as-a-lily boyfriend to meet the Hallett's – god, we're going to have a reverse "Guess Who's Coming to Dinner" situation on our hands. Dad lives at least a few decades in the past, and Mum is just plain terrifying.
"Lisa… really? You want me to meet your parents?"
"Of course. I love you."
I said it out loud…oh, that gorgeous smile. I'm melting again. If I don't kiss him now I'm going to explode.
"Oh Lisa, I love you t-"
He's having trouble talking. Probably because he has my tongue in his mouth. I can suddenly think of a few things I'd rather do than watch TV. A girl with a boyfriend like this shouldn't waste time.
"I will kill her."
"I will. I swear I will. I tell her that she is only to call me in if the world is ending – in fact, only if it's already half-way through the process of ending – and she's paging me already!"
"I'm sure Gwen has a valid reason."
"I ONLY LEFT TWENTY MINUTES AGO! God, can't that woman survive for one night on her own? You know, sometimes I think she's scheming. Every time we plan a date; ring ring. The pager is going off and it's Gwen. I mean, I know it's paranoid, ridiculous, but I just… why are you looking at me like that?"
"I'm remaining tactfully silent, Sir."
"What? Oh, God, SHUT UP! STUPID PIECE OF SHIT! I hate this thing. I hate my phone too. Bloody Torchwood. Bloody fucking Rift. One night! Is that so much to ask? I mean, really, in the scheme of things -"
"JACK! Just. Go. To. The. Hub. I'll cancel the restaurant and drive you in, so if you need back-up I'm there. You know you're going to do it so let's skip the ranting."
"Ianto, I'm sorry. What with the Hoix last week, and those idiots at UNIT losing the moon on Wednesday…we're going to go on this date. I promise. But…"
"Jack, stop apologising. I get it. We both know Gwen doesn't call without a reason. I work for Torchwood too… you may have noticed that."
"Oh, I notice alright. I notice very much."
"Don't try and be charming while you're fuming. It's a terrifying combination. Your eye is twitching and your eyebrows look like they have epilepsy."
"Jack, just get in the car. You have a duty to Torchwood and it is more important than a date. Besides, the wait will make it better."
"Resorting to platitudes now, very interesting… who told you that one?"