Family History

Here is something a little different. This is a sequel to a story I haven't finished yet, but fortunately you won't need to read that first. This is a look at our boys from a different angle with a new main character. I hope you'll like her. Don't worry, it's still Janto. I will (one day) finish the story about what happened to Ianto I promise.

With a special dedication to the fanfic author (I wish I could remember who – was it you Helen? Or d8rkmessnger?) who shared the story of her twins peanut buttering the cat. I just had to use that.

I've had a little holiday BTW, that's why I'm uploading 2 stories in one night, I managed to actually finish this, which has been on the go for ages and come up with something new. I hope that makes you all happy.

Summary: The skeletons in Manda Carlisle (nee Harkness) family closet turn out to be alive, impossible as that may seem. Jack and Ianto take a trip to a cottage in Cornwall that holds special memories for Jack.

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Manda Carlisle (nee Harkness) was busy preparing carrots when she noticed, out of the corner of her eye, her four year old son Jack crawl into the kitchen as if he were trying not to be noticed. Intrigued she decided to play along, ostentatiously chopping as he opened the cupboard, took out a jar of peanut butter and ducked sneakily back into the lounge. On his arrival in the other room Manda could hear his twin sister Camille squeal with glee. That couldn't be good.

The phone rang.

Damn. 'Hello.'

'Hello,' said a pleasantly toned male voice. 'Is that Victoria?' The accent was American.

'No, I'm sorry,' Manda explained, this happened less frequently these days but was still fairly common. 'Victoria is my mother. She moved into town a few years ago. I can give you her number if you'd like.' She edged towards the living room door. It had gone awfully quiet in there.

'Oh,' said the voice. He sounded a little put out. There was a pause. 'You must be Amanda then. Am I right?' Camille was holding the cat. Jack was…

'Manda,' she corrected automatically. 'Jack! Don't you dare! Stop that right now!' The peanut butter jar flew out of the boy's hands. Camille dropped the peanut butter covered cat which did a terrified circuit of the room before diving out the door. 'Give me that,' she screamed as she realised there was a jar of honey dripping onto the hearth rug. She loomed over her children breathing hard. 'What..,' she started.

'Hello. Er hello,' said a voice. Oh God, there was still a man on the phone. Jesus, she just wasn't cut out for this mother thing. Give her terrorists any day. She took a deep breath. 'Don't move,' she told the twins.

'I'm sorry,' she told the phone, carefully checking the sofa before she sat on it. 'Bit of a crisis here. My twins have just peanut buttered the cat.'

There was a spluttering on the other end of the line. She supposed that was understandable. 'You have twins?' the voice finally said, sounding delighted.

'I do,' she told him, not feeling at all pleased about it herself right then.

'And one of them's called Jack?'

'Yes.'

'What's the other one called?'

'Camille. Sorry, who is this?'

'Camille. Awww.' Manda lifted a sharp hand at her children who by some unspoken communication had decided to attempt an escape, one going in each direction around the sofa. Unfortunately for them they had telegraphed their intention in advance and she's spotted it. 'Don't you move!'

'Ah,' the man squawked. 'My name's Jack Harkness. I think we're sort of cousins.'

'Jack Harkness? One of the American Jack Harkness'?'

'Yes, well I'm afraid my family's tradition of naming eldest sons Jack makes it a little hard for other people to figure out which one of us they're talking to. My grandparents were Jack and Alison. I understand she was his second wife and Camille was the first. I'm from the American branch of the family, as you've probably figured out.'

Manda smiled. 'Yes, it is a little obvious.' She suddenly panicked. 'You're not ringing from America are you?'

'No.' There was a smile in the voice. 'I'm in Cardiff. I'm working here for a while.'

'Oh thank goodness. This call would be costing a fortune if you were ringing from the States.'

'No, it's fine.' There was a pause. 'Um, do you want me to ring back? Do you need to go rescue your cat or deal to your children?'

'Noooo.' She cast an eye over her two children who were now sitting cross legged on the hearth rug glowering at her. 'We're fine. What can I do for you cousin Jack?'

'If you're Victoria's daughter then Jack and Camille would have been your great grandparents. Is that right?'

'It is? Don't know quite what cousin ship that makes us. Are you doing a family tree?'

He snorted. 'Hell no. No I was ringing about the cottage. My cousin Jack told me about it. He stayed there about ten years ago.'

'I think I met him, I vaguely remember. He looked very like the pictures of great granddad Jack.'

The Jack on the phone chuckled. 'I've heard it said that I really look like him too. I don't think cousin Jack and I look that alike, but other people have said so. My brother and I look really alike for what it's worth. I like that you've named your kids Jack and Camille.'

'Mmm, thanks.' She got up and wandered back out into the kitchen where there was an alcove that served as an office. 'Were you wanting to use the cottage?' She pulled out the reservation book. 'You know that there is a clause that states that if family ever want to use it, any other tenant has to vacate to let them.'

'Oh I wouldn't want to put anyone out, but if it were available I'd like to take it for a week.'

'Starting when?'

'Tomorrow?' he asked hopefully.

'Ah.' That wasn't a problem as far as tenants went, there was nothing booked for at least two weeks, it just meant she'd have to get herself organised and get it prepared. She'd brought all the bedding back up here to her house to get it aired. She wasn't sure if there was any firewood either. 'That's fine. It's the end of the season and bookings have tailed right off. Cornwall empties out at this time of year.'

'Oh great.' Manda looked out the window and cursed. She could just see two pairs of trainers disappearing out through the hole in the hedge. She'd never even heard the door. She flung the window open. 'Jack! Camille! You two get back in here now!'

The man was chuckling. He wouldn't think it was funny if he had to raise these two beasts. She growled and took a deep breath. 'Is everything all right?' the adult Jack asked.

'They've escaped!'

Goddamn, but it sounded like he giggled. 'Oh,' he said. There was a short silence. 'I look forward to meeting them.'

Manda took some more deep breaths. There was peanut butter on the cat flap. 'They might still be alive when you get here. So you'll be coming tomorrow?'

'Yes thanks. Ahh, we might stay longer than a week. I don't know. I'm bringing a friend. He's not well and needs somewhere quiet to convalesce.' That seemed a very old fashioned word choice. 'I don't know how long we'll want to stay.'

'Well you're family so that means you can stay as long as you like.'

'Great. Thanks. Look, do you mind? Could you do some shopping for us, just the sort of basic stuff, bread, milk, that sort of thing. I'll fix you up for it when we get there. Ianto, my friend, I think the trip is going to wear him out. It will take us at least three hours. I don't want to have to stop and shop.'

Manda fought the urge to roll her eyes. As if she didn't have enough to do. But Jack sounded really concerned for his friend. 'Tell you what,' she said. 'I'll give you my email. Just send me a list and I'll have everything waiting for you when you get here.'

'Thank you,' he said sincerely. 'I'm really looking forward to meeting you.'

She gave Jack her email and made sure he knew where to come. 'The weather sounds like it's going to be quite stable for a few days too,' she said. 'It should be nice.'

'The weather doesn't matter,' he told her. 'Just being somewhere other than here will be good for both of us.'

'See you tomorrow,' she said. She looked out into the garden. The kids were nowhere to be seen. They'd come back when they were hungry she decided. Making a mental list of things that needed to be done tomorrow she rung out the dishcloth and started mopping up peanut butter and honey. She hoped that cleaning all that fatty goo off its fur wouldn't make the cat sick. It would be nice to meet one of these American cousins; she was too young to really remember the one that was here before. This one had such a nice voice.