Authors note: This series is being rated M overall so I can write freely, because I don't know where this may take us and things may get raunchy later. Imagine a tall, dark, handsome man with summer sky eyes handing you a set of journals on the day your reach your majority. They are bound in green leather, pages edged in gold. Inside, neatly scribed in Ianto's own handwriting, are all the explanations his descendants will ever need. This comes out of the AU I share with my dear Cariad Jessie Blackwood. CoE never happened, Jack got to Tosh in time and he also remembered that they had a radiation sponge. More of the AU setting will become apparent later, so I won't spoil the surprises now.
RTD and the BBC own them, I'm just borrowing them and taking them out for day trips.
March 9th, 2010
I'm a married man now. It's been four months, a third of a year. Living with Jack as his husband is amazing. I get to see the man behind his carefully tended image. I'm honoured to have more of him than he has ever given to anyone else previously. I know this is how it is, because Jack has told me it's so, and I believe him.
We talk so often. I love the sound of his voice and he loves the sound of mine. I especially like it when he sings, which he does surprisingly frequently when we are at home. The topics we converse on now are always interesting. When he was first courting me he always took pains to try and be impressive, to tell me stuff he thought would enhance my opinion of him; it was kind of annoying actually. Now we talk like two adults, not like a Jedi Master and his lowly Padawan. Jack can be an arrogant and patronising cock sometimes, but since we got married he's more real with me.
We've spoken a lot about mortality and immortality, his and mine. He's persuaded me to consider a new career, away from Torchwood. I hate the idea of giving up what we do, but he worries every day, and that's not a fair thing to do to my husband. I'm still trying to make him see that I want him to be safer too.
We're making plans. If I live long enough we'll carry out those plans. We've already begun to get our show on the road. We've talked about Family and about Parenthood. Whether Jack can carry the babies we want remains to be seen; we'll adopt if he can't. If he can, we may even see if I can too. Jack likes the idea of me 'barefoot and pregnant'. I can't help imagining him is a flowery hippy-Mum smock, or carrying our newborn around our house in a baby sling; I'm surprisingly broody these days. Secretly, though, I dread the idea of ten months of hormonally imbalanced Jack-ness; ten months, because the gestation period for humans is longer in the 51st Century than it is now. I keep telling myself our babies will be worth it, because I know they will be.
We're living in Jack's house. It's beautiful. We've not had a house warming party yet though. Somehow we can't bring ourselves to admit anyone else into our haven. This is where we come to escape, to share ourselves in privacy with each other. If all goes to plan, the place will fill up with laughter and love over time, and the sounds of children playing.
I'm happy. I believe Jack is happy too. The sex is amazing. The love and trust we share is even more amazing ! He's taking me places in my head and my body that I never knew I wanted to go to, or imagined I could, before Jack.