The entire run-up to Christmas had been exhausting. Team Torchwood were overworked, under-rested, stressed out, and even Jack and Ianto were snapping at one another more than Gwen and Owen usually did. Not only was the Rift running them ragged, but everyone was on edge wondering if they would see more alien activity on Christmas Day, yet again.
Typical holiday plans, sweets and drinks and gifts and dinners and decorations, were the furthest thing from everyone's mind. It frequently got rather annoying to see the rest of the human population carrying on with the revels while Torchwood were on-call 24/7 in anonymity to ensure the safety of the planet.
Somehow, Gwen had managed to be off from midday Christmas Eve through the next night, which only contributed to Ianto's curt mood. It wasn't that he had plans for the holiday, in fact he would be than happy to pretend the whole thing didn't even exist. That was rather impossible when one was forced to be among the general public, though, instead of holed up in one's flat, insulated from holly-jolly world outside. Of course, to Jack, a 'normal' family holiday put Gwen's time-off request at the top priority list, while Ianto's lack of holiday spirit barely even registered.
Ianto decided the best thing for it was to stay down in the archives as much as possible. If he couldn't seek the comfort of his own couch at least work promised not to exhort any artificial glad tidings from him. It had been a few hours since Gwen had hurried off with an excess of hugs and happy holidays as though she wouldn't see any of them for the next fortnight, and Ianto had started to think he might make it through the evening, if not to Boxing Day, in the serenity of his personal enclave.
That was until Jack bellowed down the stairs that there was an airspace incursion in progress and he was needed.
"Fucking aliens!" Ianto spat, grabbing his gun, jacket, and coat. He pitied whatever race made the mistake of getting in his way today – Ianto Jones was in an uncharitable mood and was of the opinion that his Beretta would get the message across a lot faster than a protracted ambassadorial process.
Hurrying up to the main level, Ianto's irritation only multiplied to find that Jack had sent Tosh and Owen home the night as well, so it was just the two of them on duty. Jack's explanation that he figured Ianto wouldn't mind working since he didn't fancy celebrating anyway was not helpful.
Ianto snatched up the SUV keys miliseconds before Jack plucked them from the peg, saying that the last thing he needed was to endure Jack's recklessness on the road. Jack wisely bit back a retort that he'd never once got anyone other than himself killed while behind the wheel.
Ianto drove efficiently but with all due caution to the most out-of-the-way point from which they could communicate with the aliens in the ships hovering above the bay. If it went awry, the general population wouldn't be in the way nearly as much. As Ianto slowed to a stop, Jack checked the radio equipment and sent up a test message, coded in formal galactic standard, offering a genial greeting but letting the recipient know that the airspace was restricted.
Ianto, meanwhile, had opened the boot and was unlocking the case of the Big Gun as a contingency plan.
Several minutes later, Jack received a reply from the lead ship above. Ianto was steeling his nerve, expecting to hear that the aliens had chosen Cardiff as the site of their invasion, but instead heard a jolly chuckle from Jack in the middle of the clearing.
"What's so funny?" Ianto asked warily.
"Come here! You gotta see this!" Jack called over with a big grin.
Ianto rolled his eyes. Naturally Jack couldn't just answer the bloody question. Jack held out the radio receiver that translated the aliens' response for Ianto to see.
Cappin Jarkness – moist sinseer appollogees of us! Us, seen lite of ewe's, inspected caws for earthwyde sellabrayshuns. Deeterminded caws to be hollyday seesun. Krewe of Sirap phleet hopped to ayd sellabrayshuns with lites of us. Wyl turminate lites of us and kwit ayrespace at wonce. Jollee hollyday of ewe – if sew deesyurd!
Shaking his head, Ianto started re-reading the missive, trying to make sense of the atrocious spelling. "How the bloody hell did they manage to spell 'inspected' properly?" he muttered.
Jack was still chuckling and grinning skyward, waving as the ship lights blinked out one by one. "Imagine that! They saw our holiday decorations and wanted to get in on the act. That's what I love about this job – just once in a while, it's actually not Weevils or Daleks. Thanks, fellows – jolly holiday of ewe, too!"
When Jack glanced over at Ianto, he was concerned to find Ianto stood there, staring at the ground with tears running down his face. "Ianto…? What is it? What's wrong?"
Ianto shook his head shortly.
"No, no, come on," Jack said gently, pulling Ianto in by the shoulders. "What is it? Everything's fine, no invasion. We can head back, get something for dinner…."
"I'm sorry, Jack," Ianto sniffled. "I'm sorry I've been so stroppy lately. I don't want to be, honestly, but the holidays were just… never good in my family. And I always wanted that… that warmth and light that everyone else seemed to have."
"Oh." Jack held Ianto close, rubbing his back. "I understand what you mean," he said quietly. "When it feels like everybody in the world has something that seems will always be out of your reach."
Ianto swallowed hard against Jack's shoulder. "Yeah…"
"Ok. Come on. Let's head on back and pick up a takeaway. We can kill the fairy lights in the Hub and just chill out, huh?"
"I wouldn't mind leaving them on," Ianto said quietly. "As long as it's just you and me. And no bloody music."
Jack smiled softly and kissed Ianto's cheek. "Deal. Let me drive? Promise I'll go slow."
Ianto nodded and passed Jack the keys, reaching for Jack's other hand to hold. "Thanks, Jack."
"You're welcome, Ianto. Jolly holiday of ewe, if so desired."
Ianto couldn't help snickering. "They must have known they were talking to Wales – where else would there be a holiday of ewe?"