Chapter Thirteen

The room décor for the reception area was amazing – an incredible combination of elegant dining and refined sensuality, colored with tans and soft browns throughout then highlighted by vanilla scented tableside votive candles, a large disco ball, along with moonlight shining through the clear, glass ceiling. At the far corner, a buffet of freshly cooked foods commonly seen in any Middle Eastern restaurant were served by barely clad and very tone women. Next to it, an open bar offering exotic cocktails created by buff and tanned male mixologists. Between the bar and 25, four person round guest tables was a vast dance floor with seven slightly elevated cages and six dancer polls in a large circle in the center. The floor had an almost natural vibration from the innominate band somewhere in the distance.

The newlyweds stood alone briefly amidst this pending sensuality. Jack looked around the room pleased and astounded, "You've outdone yourself this time, hon."

"Sarah's local knowledge was indispensable."

Jack looked at him incredulously, "Really?" He grabbed Ianto's elbow, directing him to the head table. On top of beige table cloth, Jack picked up one of rolled cigarettes sprinkled along with the white rose peddles.

"I don't smoke," said Ianto.

Jack lit it, took a strong pull, and handed it to Ianto, "It is traditional on the planet – part of the reception."

"Likely a filiopietistic reference," said Ianto, trying to pull away from Jack's smoke just as the guests started to arrive. The guests were already in a state of undress similar to that of the bartenders and servers. Like Jack, they headed for the tables to smoke the pre-rolled cigarettes. In moments, a sage-like smelling mist filled the room. "Told you – people look forward to it," said Jack. "Some say it's the best part of the wedding," he gave that devilish wink again.

"Oh, don't be so uptight, eye candy," said John Hart as he draped his hand over Ianto's shoulder while circling around as if initiating a tango. "Besides, I read that on Earth you're supposed to get trashed at your wedding." But as John circled around he took one look at Jack Harkness and decided an immediate exit stage right was warranted, "Oh, I think I see an old friend."

Jack's murderous look was only interrupted by the approach of a well-wisher Ianto did not recognize. But no sooner had Ianto met one person, he was introduced to another and then another as they arrive in immediate succession. People from Jack's worlds – Ianto wondered when they all would become family friends. In a few moments, Jack was surrounded by a sea of admirers, some likely jealous and wondering if they could still could get some ("Well, could they?" wondered Ianto, as the two men had never discussed monogamy).

Ianto went back to staring at the cigarette now sticking to his palm. "It's called esheb," said Sarah who has slipped up behind him. "It is only grown here." He hadn't seen her during the ceremony and, considering she was in her usual fatigues, she was likely on duty for the duration. There still was a threat after all.

"Mmm."

"It is similar to ecstasy, giving you a feeling of mild euphoria and a warm feeling toward others," she took it from Ianto's hand and ran it underneath her nose like a Cigar Aficionado reviewer. "And this is high quality." She closed her eyes momentarily savoring the aroma. Upon reorienting to Ianto's quizzical look, she continued, "Esheb and alcohol are strictly controlled on this planet – they are permitted only on holidays and at weddings and only in the context of a family or community gathering. Conviction for the use or sale at any other time or sale to anyone under the age of 16 means public stoning." Ianto's expression did not change. She continued, "It is not addictive if used infrequently and there is very little in the way of a hangover . . . ". Her voice seemed to trail off and she looked at her feet. "Aliyah and I were married here also – it is tradition."

"Right," he assured her, "got a light?"

She reached around him and took a lighter from the table. "Don't inhale too deeply otherwise you'll burn your throat. But hold the smoke for 10 seconds". Like a newbie at the Rocky Horror Picture Show, he followed her instructions. She counted, "One one-thousand, two one-thousand, three one-thousand . . ." That first toke warmed his lungs and tickled his throat but he liked the slightly naughty, dirty freedom was it immediately gave him.

Jack was still chatting a few feet away. He looked over his shoulder when he heard Ianto coughing. He groaned, saying to himself, "Oh yeah, this is going to be the best wedding reception I've ever had!"

Sarah fired up the lighter again, "Take another hit, you probably only need two for now. This time, let the smoke slowly out of your nose." He followed her instructions and by the time he'd blown out all the smoke, he could feel why the Jews here liked this stuff and why they tightly limited it use. "You okay?"

"Brilliant."

She nodded with a smirk, put out the smoldering joint in a nearby astray, then pocketed the remainder, "I'll hold on to this for a while."

Jack swooped behind his partner, pushing Sarah aside, "I'll take him from here, thank you officer!" She slipped into the room's darkness without argument with the assuredness of a contented wedding planner. Meanwhile, Jack motioned Ianto toward wedding guests, introducing him to the curious. The band had started playing now. Ianto could feel the embolden beat from the band and began swaying slightly while still being held from behind, Jack's chin definitively resting on his left shoulder. Ianto exhaled – they were a couple.