SHINE

Chapter 12

Your Time Is Coming Don't Be Late

The young man turned away and looked to the rise and fall of the time rotor. Around him the room became fragmented as the strength of memory seared through to the present.

A soft glow of apricot tones coloured his face, warming his cheeks with sunset kisses. The early stars paled against the brilliance of the fading light. A blackbird skipped on the branches of a young apple tree, its piercing hymn signalling the lateness of the hour like a call to vespers. Lily ran barefooted about the garden, her golden hair, tied in unkempt braids, swinging like the basket of raspberries she had freshly picked from the canes. Rose reclined lazily in a deckchair, thumbing through paperwork, the last rays of light making a bittersweet halo of her hair, while Ianto stood grey against the burnished gold of the setting sun.

"We had a cottage near the Beacons, after the incident with the Slitheens we went there, Jackie, Rose, Lily and me. She was dead on her feet, she needed a few days to recharge and maybe get a new perspective on looking for the missing Prime Minister." His voice broke with recollection.

The Doctor moved to where the young man stood. "Lily?"

Ianto eyes remained fixed, as if hypnotised by the past. "Jackie and Pete's daughter," he explained, giving a soft laugh. "Apparently Mam-gu wanted to call her Kylie but Tad-cu stuck to his guns and pushed for Lily; Jackie gave in, eventually." He turned and looked at the Time Lord, his eyes blurred by soft tears. The Doctor swallowed and placed a hand on his shoulder; Ianto seemed not to notice.

The Time Lord's mind turned with the words Mam-gu, Tad-cu. They echoed in gentle whispers, goading his perception, pushing him through the barrier of knowledge. Grandmother, Grandfather, Jackie and Pete.

He let go of the Welshman and shuffled through the photos in his hand. There it was, Rose with a new born held to her chest, pale, exhausted but with that smile. He flipped it over; 'Ianto and me, day one!' Was written on the back.

"Did you love her?"

"Did you?"

"I think I asked the question f…"

"Yes."

The answer had been unconditional, he realised that now.

His eyes lingered on the image. "She was your mother," he murmured, keeping his voice calm over the fierce beating of his hearts. "Rose."

Ianto remained stoic, his mind fixed on the trauma of a quintessential scene.

There was a fanfare of toppling pots from the kitchen followed by a harsh chorus of expletives.

Ianto walked over to the deckchair and sat down beside it. "It'll be too sweet," he said looking towards the kitchen.

Rose sighed and looked from the sheet she was reading, pushing her sunglasses on top of her hair. "Ianto, give her a chance, she's trying her best."

He picked a tall blade of Timothy-grass and placed it, lazily, in the side of his mouth. "Last time she didn't put enough sugar in, this time she's used a whole kilo bag."

Rose looked down at him and tapped him on the shoulder with her pen. "You didn't tell her did you?"

Ianto looked at her, shielding his eyes from the softening sun. "I might have mentioned it," he said with a shrug.

Rose gave a small grin. "Oh Ianto," she roughed his hair. "Mum's just trying her best to find her niche here."

He leant back on his hands and stretched his legs out in front. "Well Domestic Goddess isn't working."

"And she doesn't need to hear it from you, okay," Rose admonished. "So just drink it and smile."

He made a face but nodded.

Jackie came out carrying a tray with tall glasses of homemade lemonade on it. She put it down on the patio table with a thud, glaring at Ianto. "Take that out of your mouth; Rose, tell him, it's so unhygienic, who knows what's been on that."

Rose sighed and looked down at her son, Ianto spat the grass onto the floor. Jackie pursed her painted lips and tutted.

Lily came running over, dropping her basket and its cache of fruit over the lawn so she could take a glass. She drank it with relish, placing it back on the table when she had finished. "I've got biscuits in the oven, too," Jackie said in a small voice, stroking her younger daughter's hair. Lily looked up and smiled, wiping her arm across her sugary lips, before resuming her fruit picking.

"Thanks Mum," Rose said, watching the child skip idly back to her overturned basket. "We're hungry, aren't we?" She kicked Ianto.

He nodded. "Yes, Grandmother, I'm looking forward to the gingerbread aliens…"

"Gingerbread men!" Jackie exclaimed through gritted teeth.

"Oh, I just thought as some of them had extra limbs and others were headless…"

"Ianto…" Rose looked from her son to her mother. "Thanks Mum, this looks lovely," she furnished diplomatically, taking a glass and holding it up to the retreating light.

"Wait until you try it," Ianto muttered under his breath. Jackie glowered at him.

"We all appreciate your efforts, Mum," Rose added tactfully.

"Well you could 'ave fooled me, some people around here..." The smoke alarm sounded. Jackie turned quickly and stomped back towards the kitchen.

Ianto followed her gait. "How does she do that?" He asked, turning his head slightly.

Rose swirled the unassuming liquid in the glass. "What?" She invited, drawn to the disappearing form of her mother.

"Make those flip-flops sound like Jack Boots."

Rose's laugh sparkled in the fading light, Lily looked towards them before returning to her task. "It's an art;" she informed him, taking a drink and quickly spitting it out. "Dear God, she's trying to poison us!"

"I did try and warn you." He said, getting up to take a napkin from under the tray. He handed it to Rose. "Maybe you should employ her at Torchwood. You could torture those in the cells with her cooking."

"Ianto, be nice," Rose stated with a half smile as she wiped her top with the serviette.

He watched a wasp, in dire need of a sugar rush, land on top of Lily's discarded glass. "She doesn't like me," he said softly to the frenzied insect.

Rose caught hold of his arm and pulled him onto her lap, letting her paperwork crease as he sat on it. She wrapped an arm around him and tenderly stroked his hair, planting fine kisses on his crown. "Of course she does, she's your Grandmother." She sighed, looking across the lawn at Lily.

He looked up into her face. "She doesn't like me because I re…"

"Why don't you go and play with Lily?" Rose interrupted, deliberately avoiding eye contact.

Ianto swallowed. "She's playing some sort of game involving fairies and fruit," he huffed, pulling away from his mother.

Rose's face clouded. "Not that sort of fairies," Ianto exclaimed with a sigh.

She looked from her serious child to her peaches and cream sister. Who would guess Lily was the elder of the two. "I think I bring too much of my work home with me," she whispered into his hair.

"But you're never home", he said sullenly.

She looked away for a moment and then pulled him to her again. "I know, I know," she whispered gently, rocking him in her embrace. "Did you manage to store away your present from Uncle Mickey." She glanced across the garden to the large, blue, carry-bag; she knew the answer.

"Ricky," he corrected, "and yes, it wasn't that hard."

She smiled. "You know what, after Torchwood's cleared up this Slitheen business, how about you and me take that new tent of yours out for a proper airing."

Ianto looked sceptical. "What, you camping?"

"Oi cheeky, I'll have you know I've roughed it with the best!" She ruffled his hair. "And anyway I asked 'Ricky' to get a few optional extras to go with it. They're in the boot of my car."

Ianto cocked a well practised eyebrow in her direction and she gave him a blatant smile. "Just who is this present for?" He posed.

"Both of us," she answered enveloping him in a hug. "So, what do you say, Master Tyler, wanna go camping with your old Mum and a few mod cons?"

He snuggled close to her skin. "I'd like that very much."

They stayed like that for a moment, listening to the noise of the garden celebrating the end of the day until Rose felt Ianto stiffen. He sat up watching a cloud of gnats swarming in the waning light.

"What?" She asked gently, lifting his head toward her, aware that his mind had found a sharp angle.

He looked down at his knees, his fingers tentatively inspecting a newly formed scab.

He shrugged. "What if, you know, while we're away, he…?"

"He won't." She replied, shaking her head a little.

"But how do you know?" He challenged, picking at the hard crust.

"Well if he does, I won't be here. So, if he really wants to find me, he'll have to look harder won't he?"

The exchanged smiles, a simple understanding, a promise made. Rose pulled him to her again and smelt his hair, loosing herself in his soft aroma. She wanted to hold him like this forever, in the sober light of the setting sun but part of her had accepted, long ago, that he never really belonged to her. This was a borrowed moment. A borrowed child.

Ianto fell back against her warm embrace, feeling their heart beats harmonise in a steady rhythm. He shut his eyes, for one blissful minute, try to forge the connection of mother and son, hoping that his love was enough to bond them together; but as always, something else stirred deep within him, something else was calling him from the periphery of his being. Something that had a prior claim.

He opened his eyes and saw the same emotion reflected in his mother's gaze. He looked away. "Sorry," he whispered, to the break of both their hearts. For what more can a seven year old say when he knows he doesn't quite fit-in with those around him.

Rose kissed him gently on his forehead, saying nothing but Ianto found her silence damning.

He looked back at the Doctor. "It started with a scream from the kitchen."