Hello readers of this story. This is my first Torchwood fanfiction, so I'm super psyched to try out the new story. I adore Torchwood, and Janto is my OTP from any series. Please be nice, and I'd love it if you favorite, followed, or commented on this story. Enjoy!
A handsome fifteen year old boy awoke to a person tapping his shoulder. As his eyes fluttered open he began to take in his surroundings. The plush seats first, then he quickly noticed the person tapping his shoulder was a pretty girl. She was maybe sixteen or seventeen, a little older than himself. "Hi, we're here, just landed. I just wanted to let you know. I'm Donna, by the way." The pretty redhead said softly.
He smiled sleepily, and her grin widened. "Thank you for waking me. Sorry if I sound odd, my timing is completely off. I'd love to stay and chat, but I'm terribly late. Nice meeting you." He paused and then decided to add in, "I'm Ianto Jones by the way." With that, he got up from the aisle seat. She turned to call to him, but he was already grabbing his luggage and starting to the front of the airplane.
He was in such a rush, he nearly missed her calling out to him. "Cool accent Ianto, welcome to America." Debating whether to answer, he stepped off the plane realizing he really was late. He asked the lady at the front desk where he could acquire a ride, and she pointed him to the front of the airport with the same silly smirk on her face that Donna had. Shrugging it off, Ianto navigated the foreign airport as best he could, reading the signs that said "Boston" everywhere he went, followed by plush lobsters and other tacky souvenirs. Some things never changed no matter where in the world he was, Ianto determined.
As he was wheeling his bag, he though briefly again about the pretty girl as he tried to figure out where baggage claim was. It was too bad he hadn't had more time; it would have been nice to know one person in the city. Though, with her accent, she didn't seem to be from here either. Never the less, high school wasn't going to be fun, especially joining the sophomore class midway through the year. Ianto sighed, knowing his job wasn't to have fun. It was for him to be unseen, unheard, and unimportant until the time was right. This would have been a lot easier without the accent, Ianto noted.
"Finally," he muttered as he came across the baggage claim section of the airport. All of the other bags in his section were nearly gone, and his black duffle bag lay isolated. Picking it up, Ianto slug his laptop case in his other arm and made his way to the front of the airport, only to be stopped by the sweet smell of coffee. The scent was the thing he knew he could enjoy most about this city; there was a Dunkin Doughnuts on nearly every corner. Setting his laptop and bag down, he ordered a cup and let the sweet taste enter his lips. No matter how late he was running, he knew he wasn't going to be able to function without a good cup of American coffee. Guzzling the cup in nearly a sip, he went to toss the empty cup in the trash when someone ran into him, knocking the cup over and spilling the remaining drops of coffee on the bottom of his white shirt.
"Sorry," the other boy said, stopping to help pick up the cup and toss it the remaining distance to the trash. Ianto was busy grabbing his things and didn't look up, but he could tell it was a man's voice. It continued, "It's a shame, though. You look great in that shirt."
Feeling a little bit snarky, Ianto replied back with, "You know that's sexual harassment..." He nearly broke off his words when he looked up to see one of the best looking boys he'd ever seen. Tussled brown hair with a baby blue button up shirt, the boy stood out in the airport filled with thousands of other people. Ianto was surprised by this reaction; beauty, no matter how great, didn't usually affect him this drastically. Yet, this boy was different.
The odds didn't seem in his favor, though, when the other boy raised an eyebrow and smirked, "Well, it was nice to meet you coffee-boy. I really do have to go."
The boy turned away, and Ianto had to restrain himself from grabbing the boys arm. Still, he didn't want the conversation to end that way. "Ianto Jones," he called back on a whim.
The other boy turned and looked at him with a smile that had made boys and girls alike melt, "Jack Harkness." With that, the boy continued his run through the airport, his overly long coat bouncing gently behind him.
"Welcome to America," Ianto whispered under his breath, smiling genuinely for the first time in a long time.
Jack Harkness was always finding himself in trouble. Sometimes he knew the cause, accepted it even, and was ready to move on. Other times, however, if was certainly not his fault. It was not his fault he was rushing around the Boston airport on a Sunday night searching for Gwen's sister's best friend to pick up so that his friend Gwen, and he used the term loosely, would 'owe him one'. Unfortunately, she was one of the most popular girls at their school and she wasn't one to be messed with. So, he complied to her request, not realizing how insane the airport was the day before winter break ended.
However, Jack was completely ready to admit it was his fault running into the handsome younger boy at the airport. Normally, he would have started a conversation with the boy, flirted as usual. If things had went exceptionally well, he may have even asked the boy out. I nice vacation fling before break ended. Unfortunately for Jack, this was one day that he really didn't have time for his usual charm. He needed to get home and do, or copy, the homework he was supposed to have been working on all break.
Jack grabbed the girl he came to pick up, whose name he learned to be Donna. She chatted away happily about London, having no problem flirting away. She seemed, to put it nicely, like a little bit of a ditz, but Jack didn't mind. The whole conversation was completely unmemorable except when he asked her about her flight. The girl paused for a moment, then replied, "It was fine, a cute guy with an accent was sitting next to me. He slept the whole time though; total bust."
Slightly intrigued, asked, "That's ironic, I met a boy around your age with an accent. What was your guys name?"
Donna opened her mouth to reply, then a puzzled look crossed her face. "I know he said his name, but I don't remember. In fact, I don't really remember what he looked like, either." She turned to Jack, "What was your guy's name?"
Jack, like Donna, was sure he knew, but the name just wouldn't come. "I don't remember. That's so weird; he was memorable, but I don't remember why."
Donna, linking her arm with hers, smiled and opened the door to Jack's car, "It probably wasn't that important anyways."