Let the Ground Open and Swallow Me Up

Ianto knew as soon as he said it that he'd taken his mind off the metaphorical ball for a split second. He took consolation from the thought that, as coffee-maker for the Hub, he wouldn't be consigned to decaf for a month. Because, had the circumstances been reversed, that's probably what he would have metered out as punishment.

He hadn't meant to say it. It really just slipped out. And if he could turn back time, he would. But he couldn't, and it had happened. He had to deal with the fall out.

And it was all his fault. He was the one who'd insisted that Jack needed some casual clothes. He'd said that, whilst the 1940's RAF look was thoroughly becoming for the Captain, there were undoubtedly occasions when a more modern look would be beneficial.

"Like when?" Jack had asked, skeptically.

"Like when we go out for dinner and don't want to stand out any more than we do already. Like when we are on an undercover operation. Like on those hugely rare occasions when you can be arsed to take the library books back. Like when…"

Jack placed a hand on Ianto's shoulder. "I hear you. And you're absolutely right. We should go shopping. I need a pair of blue jeans. Come with me; help me choose some."

They'd been to a number of shops. Quite a number. Ianto had lost count. He was beginning to realise why Jack stuck to his usual manner of attire. Jack knew what suited him, he knew where to buy it and it was a painless shopping experience when he needed new trousers. He'd had over 150 years practise.

Unlike today. Blue jeans day.

"So," Jack was saying, in what felt to Ianto like the 100th shop of the morning. Realistically, he supposed it was probably only the fifteenth. Or sixteenth. Jack wandered out of the changing room, looking over his shoulder to check out how his back view looked in the mirror. It was the second pair of jeans he'd tried in the shop. He quite liked both pairs, and was hard pushed to choose between them. He'd tried each on. Twice.

"Ianto. Ianto!"

Ianto, hearing his name, looked up obediently from where he was sitting outside the changing room. He'd been absorbed reading a leaflet he'd picked up from the nearby table about the banking and money exchange facilities offered by the shop. Well, he wasn't really absorbed, he was just trying to find something – anything – to take his mind off the torture that the shopping expedition had become.

He realised, belatedly, that perhaps it shouldn't have come as such a surprise that Jack was a trifle vain about his appearance. Ianto'd not given it a lot of thought. 'Need jeans, buy jeans' was as far as he'd taken the idea. He put the leaflet down and tried to concentrate on what Jack was saying. Which didn't seem particularly different to what he'd heard in fourteen shops earlier that day. He never thought that he'd hope for something – anything – to come unbidden through the Rift. But now? He'd almost be grateful for Abaddon.

"So?" Jack asked. "What do you think? Does my bum look big in these? Which pair of jeans makes my bum look bigger?"

Ianto had been waiting patiently, trying to become absorbed in the information about the good interest rates offered on the store credit card. Jack called out just as he was looking at the adverts that said he could get his foreign currency for a holiday without paying commission. Just as he was thinking that Jack would need some trainers to go with the jeans. Just as he took his mind off the ball.

Ianto truly only heard the last part of Jack's question: "Which pair of jeans makes my bum look bigger?" He saw Jack still trying to catch a glimpse of his rear view in the mirror.

And that's when he said it. "Jack. Your bum's big enough already. Why do you want a pair of jeans that makes it look bigger?"

End