'If anyone objects to this marriage, let them speak now or forever hold their peace'
There was a brief frisson of tension in the church as the vicar paused. Ianto and Ffion, his wife-to-be, smiled at each other. There would be no objection; theirs was an uncomplicated love story, with no dramas.
'I object'
And there he was, looking as impossibly beautiful as he had when he had walked away from Ianto five years before, striding down the aisle in that coat, pulling whispers and murmurings behind him like a small flotilla. Jack. Fucking. Harkness.
He arrived at the alter, seamlessly inserting himself between Ianto and Ffion and placing a large, warm hand on Ianto's cheek. Ianto wondered how any other hand had ever felt acceptable.
The vicar was trying to make himself heard above the commotion, 'What is your objection, Sir?'
Jack smiled, 'He should be with me. He should only be with me. I love him more than anyone in the universe. He loves me beyond sense and understanding. And he knows that, don't you Ianto?'
And Ianto made the only answer he could,
'I do'