Ianto Jones had never been "normal" per say. With having an adopted sister, a constantly absent mother, and a missing father, nothing was ever truly "normal". From what Ianto could remember, his childhood was mostly just him and his adopted sister, as their mother was out on business trips often, leaving the two to take care of themselves. As a result, Ianto had trouble with the concept of meeting new people and making friends. God forbid he had to speak to anyone at all; he was quite shy, yet polite, only speaking when spoken to.
His adopted sister was a few years older than he, and thus grew and moved away from home, leaving him alone for a few years. In the silence of the empty home, he waited for his mother to return for a few hours between her business trips, and did anything he could to pass the time- which mostly involved cleaning the house and sewing holes in any and all items that happened to be worn. As time passed, she didn't come home as often, and after leaving a note and with his phone number included (as his mother never gave him her cell number, and he figured if maybe he gave her his number, they'd keep in touch), he left home and entered the great big world.
Of course, the moment Ianto moved his things to his car and pulled out of the driveway, the "great big world" greeted him with a black SUV going sixty-five miles an hour in the middle of a neighbourhood. As Ianto nearly got his tail nicked by the lunatic driver, he happened to catch the car's license plate number.
5H131D 73
Good. He could report the driver before anyone else was at risk of being injured. Ianto pulled out his phone and made a call to the local police, reporting the car tag. Unfortunately, it didn't go exactly as he thought.
"Sir, I would like to report a reckless driver."
"D' ya have the plate?" The man on the other end of the line drawled in a thick southern accent.
"Yes, sir. It was five, 'h', one, three, one, 'd', space, seven, three."
"One moment." Ianto heard the man begin to type away on a clickity-clackity keyboard, before returning back to the phone. "Y'sure that's the plate, son?"
"Y-Yes, sir."
The man let out a sigh. "Sorry, that plate doesn' exist."
"P-pardon-?" Ianto managed, furrowing his brows, knowing he saw the plate correctly, but why didn't it exist in the police records-?
"Ya heard me, son. It doesn't exist. Keep 'n eye out for any more reckless drivers, though, 'n report 'em."
The line went dead, and Ianto took a moment to soak in the situation, before shaking his head. He must have read the license plate wrong. There was no possible way that the car didn't register, as all cars had to have their plates tagged by the government...
Ianto sighed to himself before pulling out of the driveway, pushing his odd experience to the back of his mind as he focused on not getting his car totalled.
