Manda stood at the cottage door and worked through her mental check list. Beds made, master bed and second bedroom prepared. Both lovely large sunny rooms. She wasn't sure if two beds were needed or not, but it seemed safer to assume that that was so. Towels in the bathroom, heated towel rail on. Complimentary toiletries on the vanity and extra soaps and toilet paper in the cupboard. Log basket full and fire laid, the groceries she'd bought stowed away, fruit in the bowl and flowers from the garden (dahlias) on a vase on the table. The windows had been open all morning to air the place and most were now shut so that it would warm in the afternoon sun. The kitchen and living room glowed with light. She put the duster down with a sigh, she loved this cottage. It was all ready. She hoped the visitors would love it too.

She stepped back and surveyed the building. It was an old stone house, probably two hundred or so years old. It was hard to tell with these places. Over the years her family had owned it, it had been constantly updated so that while it still looked like an ancient Cornish cottage from the outside the inside was comfortable and warm with all the mod cons. It even boasted broadband internet access and Manda was pretty sure most holiday homes in the region couldn't say that.

It was odd, Manda didn't know how it was funded, but Great Granddad's legacy somehow provided for keeping the cottage upgraded. Her mother said that apparently he had so loved it he wanted to make sure it would never become unliveable due to age. New roof needed, no problems, rewiring, same. New technology, the cottage definitely had to have it. It was a shame the privileges didn't extend to their own home further up the valley. Any improvements there came from their own pockets, although as the cottage caretakers they were paid a rather handsome annual stipend for their efforts.

On her way to the supermarket Manda had made a quick call to her mother's, barely catching her before she went off for her bridge game. She was delighted to hear another of the American cousins was coming and was really annoyed that Manda hadn't worked out which Jack it was. There were three of them apparently of approximately the right age, plus one who must be in his sixties or early seventies and might possibly be the father of this one. The older Jack had two brothers, Alan and Franklin. This Jack could equally be the son of one of them.

It made Manda's eyes cross, she didn't really care, but promised to ask.

Leaving her mum's she went off to do the shopping requested. Jack had sent her such a "man" list. Milk, bread, margarine, marmalade, sausages, baked beans, teabags and frozen dinners. She did a proper shop for them instead. Cynically she wondered if that is what her cousin had been intending all along. Shopping done she'd come down to prepare the cottage. The children were at a friend's, which was such a treat for all of them, herself included. She had until about four o'clock all to herself. On a nice day like this she rather begrudged having to spend it at the cottage when she could have been getting through her list of things to do at home.

She turned and looked down the path to the sea. The cottage nestled at the foot of a valley running down to a typical Cornish cove. High cliffs enclosed a narrow body of water, the swell of the open sea channelled into it by the rocky headlands so that quite a surf broke on the steep rocky beach although there was a stretch of sand at low tide. It was a quintessential smugglers cove and Manda had always loved it. As a child she and her brothers, their cousins and friendly guests had played endless pirate games, roaring up and down the cliff path and down the steep grassy slope to the small strip of sand below the rocks. It had been a marvellous place to grow up and leaving had been very hard. Being back here now, with children of her own was such a privilege. Caring for the cottage wasn't too bad a price to pay.

With a start she realised that while she had zoned out a car had been making its way down the windy track from the road. It was a grey Audi, she grinned, same make and model as her own. She patted herself down as the car pulled up next to hers in the gravel yard, smoothing her sleeveless shirt and dusting her jeans. A tall dark haired man got out and stretched, hands on the small of his back. He was nicely dressed in slacks and a blue button down shirt. Incongruously he was wearing pale blue braces. As she came around the side of the house he saw her and his mouth split in a wide beaming smile. My god, he was gorgeous. She stared at him. Dear god, he was familiar. 'Oh,' she breathed as he hurried towards her, hand held out in greeting. 'You do look like the photograph of great grandfather.'

He seemed genuinely pleased to see her. 'I've heard that before,' he said sweeping her into a hug before she could blink. He smelled divine. He stepped back and held her, hands warm on her bare arms. She nearly gasped. She was suddenly awash in memories of her father. 'I'm Captain Jack Harkness, and you must be Manda.' It was the feel of his arms around her, the family resemblance and something indefinable. The way her father had smelt? His head quirked to one side as he regarded her. 'Oh you are gorgeous.'

Manda laughed.

'No really,' he said. His voice had a pleasant foreign burr to it, but the accent didn't seem as pronounced as it had on the phone. 'You're beautiful. I'm so pleased to meet you at last.'

'Er, likewise,' Manda stuttered. The passenger door of the car opened giving her a chance to collect herself. Jack instantly raced around the car to help his friend. Manda was disconcerted to see the rather pale young man seemed to need quite a bit of assistance to get out of his seat. He looked to be in pain.

Once upright, he was able to stand on his own and Manda hid a grin when she saw him remove Jack's supportive hand but he did keep hold of the top of the car door. He too stretched and turned his face to the sun before gazing appreciatively at the view. He gave Jack a smile, of approval she thought, before turning and smiling at Manda. He was rather plain looking next to the devastatingly handsome Jack, but he had a nice smile. 'Manda Carlisle,' Jack introduced, 'this is Ianto Jones.' Ianto stepped forward holding out his hand and Manda noticed bandages hiding under the cuffs of his sweatshirt. Both arms. She called on her professional skills, keeping her smile plastered on her face as she moved towards him.

'Pleased to meet you,' she said as she took his hand. Interest aroused she assessed him. His skin felt chilled, but his handshake was firm. His eyes tightened slightly as they shook hands. It hurt him to do that. She caught the faintest whiff of vomit on him. He must have been sick during the trip. He certainly didn't look well now.

'Lovely to meet you,' he said in a warm voice. 'Jack hasn't told me anything about his family.'

Oh, she realised. He's Welsh.

'Well hey,' Jack said, 'there were other much more interesting things about me you needed to know.' The two men exchanged warm looks and this time when Jack put out his hand Ianto let him take his elbow and start steering them towards the door. 'Come on,' he said quietly. 'Let's get you inside.'

The men walked slowly towards the door exclaiming about the prettiness of the scene, the age of the cottage and the proximity of the sea. It always made Manda feel good to hear that. At the open doorway they paused, smiling as they took in the airy open plan space, so different to what you expected from the cottage exterior. 'Wow,' Jack said, taking in the row of French doors letting in light and the scent of roses from the garden. 'That's different.'

'This was done about ten years ago,' Manda said with a smile. 'The whole thing was opened out. I think it's lovely.'

'Traditional cottage from the front, unexpectedly comfortable and modern inside,' Ianto said appreciatively. 'Bigger on the inside,' he quipped. Manda nearly laughed, she supposed it could seem a little like that, but then she realised he'd never expected to be heard. It seemed to be a private joke.

'Do you want to go lie down?' Jack asked quietly. Ianto was leaning against him.

Ianto gave a small grin. 'Not really, but I think I'd better.' Manda couldn't help but smile at what he said next. 'I'd really much rather race down and look at the beach, but I guess that's going to have to wait. Right?'

'Right,' Jack agreed. He dropped a kiss on the top of the other man's head.

Ah, Manda thought. Only needed to make one bed. 'Why don't I go and put the kettle on,' she suggested, 'while you get settled?'

'I don't suppose there's a coffee machine is there?' Ianto asked.

'Actually there is,' Manda told him at the same time as Jack jumped in and said, 'You're not allowed coffee.'

Ianto looked like he was expecting Jack's answer. 'Spoilsport,' he said mildly. 'Can't I just have one?' but his voice was strained. He reached out for the back of a chair steadying himself and blinking suddenly. His face was grey.

Jack grabbed for him again, wrapping an arm around his middle. 'Bed,' he said, slightly alarmed. 'Ah, he looked at Manda, 'This way?'

She nodded.

'I'm all right,' Ianto protested. 'You know,' he argued, as Jack led him towards the bedroom, 'I'm actually probably suffering from coffee withdrawals. It must be even harder on my body going without than it would be to let me have a cup.'

'No,' Manda heard Jack say as they disappeared through the bedroom door. She grinned. They were cute. Her gaze tracked naturally from the bedroom door to the portrait on the wall over the fireplace.

As the water came to the boil Manda found herself compelled to stand in front of the picture. It was enlarged version of an old photo, her great grandparents Jack and Camille Harkness on their wedding day. She couldn't remember the exact date but the year was 1919. Camille was standing, her dress long and fitting, a veil over her hair and falling across her shoulders. There was a posy of flowers in her left hand, her right hand rested on the shoulder of her seated husband. Great granddad Jack, from hair line, to eyebrows to the shape of his jaw was the spitting image of the man who was presently in the other room. Of course the picture was black and white but she would be very surprised if it turned out that her ancestors' eyes were anything but blue.

The bedroom door opened and the latest Jack Harkness joined her. She smiled at him. Looked from him to the picture and back again. 'That really is extraordinary.'

He grinned, which did make him look quite different from the formally posed man in the portrait. 'What's amazing,' he said, 'is how much you look like Camille.' He touched Camille's face in the photo and then ran a finger along Manda's jaw line as she found herself rooted to the spot. 'That is what I think is extraordinary.'

Manda blinked as his touch left her. He looked faintly embarrassed by it. 'I don't think we look that similar,' she said.

'Oh no, you are. There's definitely something there.'

'Yes, well this family seems to be good at passing on family traits.'

He grinned and nodded.

'I've made tea,' she told him. 'Your friend Ianto, is he all right?'

Jack sighed and followed her across to the kitchen bench. 'He's exhausted. He's still very weak and he hates it. I think this is the longest he's been out of bed since…' He glanced up at her from under his fringe. 'Since it happened.'

Manda didn't press him for details but she was starting to get curious about what was really wrong with Ianto Jones.

'I'll take him a cup of tea,' Jack continued, 'he needs to keep his fluids up. Then I think he'll sleep.'

'Is he up to cake?' She opened a tin that was sitting on the table. 'My mother made you a fruit cake.'

Jack beamed. 'Oh thank you. Thank your mother. I'm sure Ianto will like it.'

Manda cut the cake and placed four pieces on a plate. She set a tray with the teapot, milk jug and mugs and the cake plate. 'Take it in and have it together. I'll get away and leave you to it.' She turned on the oven and pulled a casserole dish out of the fridge. 'I'll just put this on to heat. You will not be eating TV dinners while you are in this house.' She laughed at Jack's look of surprise. 'This will be ready in about an hour.' As an afterthought she added a banana and a couple of apples to the tea tray. Her cousin seemed a little gobsmacked. 'Go on,' she told him. 'I'll come down and see you tomorrow. If you need anything, my number's written on the wall by the phone.' Impulsively she leaned over and gave him a kiss on forehead. 'I'll see you tomorrow.'

Twtwtwtw

Jack set the tray down on the bedside cabinet as Ianto gave him a sleepy smile. His colour was better already, just from lying down. Jack wasn't sure if he were disappointed or pleased that Manda had left. He was having trouble hiding the storm of emotions that her presence caused him. That and just being here were nearly too much.

'Cup of tea,' he said to Ianto, pouring milk into a pretty bone china mug. 'And do you think you're up to some cake?'

'I actually do like a good cup of tea,' Ianto groused elbowing himself upright, 'but I'm really missing coffee right now.' He yawned. 'Cake would be good.' He grimaced as he put too much pressure on his wrist. 'That looks nice,' he said to cover it but Jack saw. 'This is a nice place.' Ianto wriggled around on the large pile of pillows. He gave Jack a sideways look. 'And Manda would be?'

Jack busied himself pouring tea.

'Your granddaughter. Right?'

Damn Ianto. He hadn't thought he'd catch on quite so quick. Jack huffed and fluffed with the pillows himself, lifting Ianto forward and rearranging the pillows behind him. He settled him back and tried to ignore the concerned look he was giving him. Handing Ianto a mug, he waited ready to take it back if he had to. Ianto needed both hands but he was able to steady it and Jack was learning not to offer help unless it was asked for. 'My great granddaughter actually,' he finally said. He sank down on the side of the bed. 'But she's so like Camille I don't think I can stand it.' He jumped up. 'I'll go bring our bags in. You need your pills,' and he fled out the door.