Lists
Ianto Jones liked lists. He like making them, he liked reading them, he liked checking things off them. In the beginning, all his lists were in his head but as soon as he learned to write he put his lists on paper. He had lists of his clothes, of his toys, of his books. He made lists of the foods he liked, the foods he loved and the foods he really hated. He even had a list of daily tasks and chores; the first item was always waking up and last was going to sleep. Breaking his arm when his tad shoved him down the stairs in a drunken rage never appeared on his lists.
When he started school, his lists began to include things he'd learned and things he wanted to learn. As he got older, he drew up lists of all the things he wanted to do and the places he wanted to go; the latter was further broken down to list all the specific things to do, to see and to eat in each location. Being bullied by the older boys in school who called him bender and a queer never appeared on his lists.
In University, Ianto made lists of his skills and his weaknesses, which led to making a list of jobs he'd like to try versus careers he'd like to have. Torchwood never appeared on any of these lists.
Although he'd been quite shy and retiring as a teen, in Uni Ianto finally began noticing the fairer sex and as a result, he had lists detailing what he was looking for in a girlfriend, including physical features and personality traits. There was also a shorter lists of things he wasn't looking for. A man never appeared on either list.
With time, all of his written lists were lost, but as Ianto lay in bed, his back snuggled against Jack's broad chest, he looked out the port window and gazed out at the vast star field that lay before his eyes. For the first time, he didn't bother to make a list any more. He could have, if he'd wanted to. He could have listed all the incredible planets Jack had taken him to, the amazing places they'd visited, the fascinating people, aliens and creatures he'd seen and met. He could have listed all the delicious, weird, inventive and nasty foods he'd tried or the numerous and varied souvenirs he'd purchased, admired, shared with Jack and then tucked away in his treasure chest.
He could have, but he didn't.
Now the only list Ianto Jones ever carried was in his heart and it only contained three words:
Jack
Love
Happy
Giving the universe a prayer of pure gratitude, Ianto Jones closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep, lulled by the steady beat of his lover's heart, his own breath gradually falling into rhythm with Jack's.
end
