Chapter Twenty-One
Pip pip, all!
We're slowly working our way back to the adventures again, which I'm making a few allusions to in this chapter. I wondered why my muse was forcing me to write fluff instead of shenanigans, but it makes sense to give them a bit of calm amidst the storm that is their strange little universe, allowing their romantic relationship to blossom on its own for a bit. I hope you're all still liking it.
As ever, let me know what you think, and enjoy!
"Will you stop fussing, Jones?" Jack laughed, slapping Ianto's hands away from the bow tie he'd been fiddling with for several minutes. Ianto's own, of course, was perfect; completely symmetrical, sleek and smart. Jack hadn't felt the need to admit that he wasn't especially skilled with a bow tie, but before he could protest, Ianto had stepped in and begun adjusting it with his talented hands.
"No sir, I will not" he insisted, frowning at the offending article. "We are within working hours, therefore it's my responsibility to ensure you look presentable before you leave the house."
Jack grinned and tucked his hands into his pockets.
"You let me out in that white jacket you loathe" he teased.
"Yes sir, and I cope with that, because although it's... foul... it is at least smart, in its way. A lopsided tie is unforgivable."
Jack laughed, taking the time to admire Ianto in his outfit; one he'd never had the pleasure of seeing. The accessories to his work uniform were slowly becoming more ostentatious, and the soft jumpers he wore when in casual mode were no less than gorgeous, but this was something else. Beautifully cut and clearly costing a great deal even for a man as well-paid as Ianto, the jet-black dress suit was sharp and clung exactly where it was meant to. He almost felt shabby in comparison, but next to a man as wildly attractive as Ianto, Jack found he didn't mind.
"Perfect" Ianto finally announced, taking a step back to sweep his gaze over his employer. Jack glowed beneath the approval in his eyes, not caring whether it was professional or personal.
"Good enough to be seen with you, Jones?"
"Just about, sir." Ianto teased. He wasn't going to vocalise the fact that Jack looked devastatingly handsome. They both knew it, and his vanity wasn't due for a feeding just yet.
"You look good enough to eat, Jones" Jack surmised, stepping around him to look from all angles. "Where have you been hiding this magnificent piece of tailoring?"
"I've... never had occasion to wear it, sir" Ianto admitted, feeling Jack's gaze as if it were a physical touch. "In hindsight, I wonder what drove me to bring it to New York."
"Mr Jones, were you waiting for me to ask you on a date?" Jack teased, lightly resting his chin on Ianto's shoulder from behind, his fingers flexing within his pockets as they yearned to touch the young valet.
"Absolutely, sir. You've foiled me" Ianto replied, and Jack didn't need to see his face to know he was rolling his eyes.
Jack chuckled, noting the lack of denial that tonight was a date.
"I have something that'll set it off perfectly" he murmured, spinning towards his wardrobe and digging in, seemingly on a mission. Ianto turned to watch him, already planning his reaction to whatever it was. Ianto never hid his opinions of the majority of Jack's accessories... would Jack really make him wear something he found repulsive? Would Ianto be able to say no?
Suitably expectant expression in place when Jack turned back to him, Ianto was amazed to discover that he didn't need to falsify his response. In Jack's hands lay a simple, dark purple scarf that Ianto was sure he'd never seen, despite being the one who packed and unpacked Jack's luggage.
"This will suit you better then me, Jones" Jack smiled, wrapping it around his valet's neck and taking the opportunity to run his hands down his chest as he flattened the fabric against Ianto's lapels.
"It is... surprisingly beautiful, sir" Ianto said, smiling with genuine gratitude. "Very tasteful. Thank you."
"You're welcome" Jack beamed. "Sometimes, Jones, I make good choices." He tilted his head downwards slightly and looked at Ianto through his eyelashes, his grin morphing into something more subtle; more intimate.
"Yes, sir... sometimes" Ianto replied, his voice low and rich.
Jack looked as if he was about to say something else, but thought better of it. Instead his smile grew once more, and he broke their eye contact to glance at his watch.
"Right, come along Jones, our taxi will be waiting."
"May I enquire as to where you're actually taking me, sir?" Ianto asked, taking one last sweeping look around the room to ensure neither of them had forgotten anything.
"A club, Jones; The Rift. Lively, but not too loud. It's about time I showed you off to this city, don't you think?"
It suddenly occurred to Ianto that he still hadn't left the flat in any kind of social capacity, except to Alex Arwen's party, at which event he had more important things to think about than the crowd around him. He'd been so focussed on crashing the place to find Jack and keep him from Toshiko and Owen, he hadn't felt the usual agoraphobia he'd suffered with from since arriving in New York – and he didn't feel it now, because he was with Jack. Jack was nothing if not a social butterfly, and Ianto felt completely secure as a result.
"If you say so, sir" he replied, following Jack out of the door with a strange new sense of exhilaration tickling low in his stomach.
"White coffee, Jones?" Jack asked, his voice raised and close to Ianto's ear as the younger man gazed around at the dazzling inhabitants of The Rift, as glitteringly uninhibited as the décor of the club.
"What is white coffee, sir?" he asked, distracted by the mirrored walls which made the place seem to stretch endlessly.
"In here, it's gin and bitter lemon. Black coffee is scotch and soda, I think."
"White coffee sounds like an appropriate place to begin, sir."
"Pot of white coffee for two" Jack winked at the barman, who nodded conspiratorially back and disappeared into the recesses of the bar – presumably to look for a suitable coffee pot, just in case the police decided to stroll in. Jack imagined that Ianto would pull a face at being forced to sip his liquor from a china cup, but prohibition laws were strict, and popular clubs such as The Rift needed the extra insurance of their customers playing along.
"Do you want to find us a table, Jones? This place will start to get busy soon" Jack suggested, whilst looking for any sign of the missing barman.
Ianto readily agreed, though he realised as he searched for an empty table that he should have offered to procure the drinks himself and bring them to the table. However, he couldn't dredge up the effort to berate himself for being unprofessional. This wasn't an employer/employee outing, and – he checked his watch – it was just after six. His time was technically his own.
Making the decision to at least get the next round of 'coffee', Ianto found a place near to the edge of the stage, upon which an extremely talented swing band was playing, and settled down. Sliding his borrowed scarf from around his neck and laying it reverently on the table, he relaxed into his seat, only startled from his dreamy mood when two... three... no, four hands settled lightly on his arms...
Jack sighed heavily, hoping it would spur on the barman a little bit. First, he'd come out to apologise that they had no clean coffee pots. Then, that they had to wait for the new smuggled gin delivery. A full ten minutes after first resting his elbows on the bar, he was growing distinctly bored and irritated as others were served around him.
"Hey buddy, what's up with you?"
Jack glared at the grinning man to his left – who of course, had a drink in his hand.
"Oh nothing much, I was just hoping to get served this century" Jack grumbled, turning away again and glancing up at the ceiling.
The other man leapt out of his seat and splayed his hands in front of Jack's face excitedly, forcing Jack to back into the corner with wide eyes.
"What the hell are you doing?" he spluttered.
"Do that again!" the stranger insisted.
"Do what again?"
"Turn away and look up!"
"Why?"
"Just do it!"
Jack sighed and, leaning as far away from the odd man as possible, did as he was asked. Glancing at him once more, he was met with an expression of awe which made even Jack wish he could sink into the wall.
"What is wrong with you?" he asked, genuinely concerned.
"You're perfect" he whispered, before grabbing Jack's hand to shake. "Eugene Jones. I'm a stage director, producer, writer, you name it" he announced with a manic grin. "My latest production is called Random Shoes, and one of my leading men is turning out to be a real prima donna. Have you ever acted before?"
Jack extracted his hand from Eugene's and subtly wiped it down his own trouser leg. Never trust a man with excessively clammy hands.
"Not since university" he said. "I, uhh... I think I'm a bit old for all that, now."
"No no, you're perfect!" Eugene repeated, examining Jack's face as one would a particularly intriguing lab result. "Seriously, you're exactly what I need to replace that sleaze ball! You're the spitting image, only... better! I don't care if you can act, I just need your face on my stage!"
"I really don't th-"
"Two weeks, a two-week tour with Sundays off, that's all it'll be."
"Look kid, I'm not-"
"What's your name?"
Jack sighed. "Harkness."
"Okay Mr Harkness, how about this: I give that goddamned James Harper another chance and if he screws up once more, you let me call you."
Jack felt literally backed into a corner, acting on stage being literally the furthest idea from his mind. He imagined people were surprised by that, since he gave the impression of loving the sound of his own voice and the look of his own mug, but it wasn't something he felt a burning desire to do. Not that he really made plans, as a general rule.
"Sure, fine" he eventually conceded, striking on the very simple and ingenious idea of scribbling a false number. Eugene eagerly produced a pen and a pad, and Jack made up the last three digits as he wrote it down alongside his name. Perhaps the play wouldn't even happen, or maybe it wouldn't occur until Jack and Ianto had returned to Wales. Either way, he had no intention of being in this stranger's production.
"Jack" Eugene said, eyeing the full name. "Pleasure to meet you."
"You too" Jack mumbled, relieved from the inside out when a small tray laden with a pot and two cups was placed under his nose.
"Sorry for the delay, sir" the barman breezily said. Jack noticeably did not give him a tip, instead paying the exact amount required and taking the tray, scanning the room for the table Ianto had secured.
Frowning, his eyes settled on what looked like Ianto, but the table was certainly not free. Though only big enough for two, there were four women crowded around him, all very beautiful from what he could see, and extremely attentive. Jack should have known – bring an obscenely handsome, charming, young British gentleman to almost any club in any large US city was akin to throwing a single scrap of bread into a busy duck pond.
Eugene followed his eye-line and watched the five interact on the other side of the room, leaning in to Jack with a smirk.
"Is one of them yours?" he asked.
"Yes" Jack automatically replied, before thinking. "I mean... kind of, yeah."
"Then you should go stake your claim before one of those girls snaps him up."
Jack sharply turned his head with widened eyes before Eugene laughed, instantly putting him at ease.
"Relax, I work in the theatre, remember? I can just tell" he explained, and Jack had to chuckle.
"Goodbye, Eugene" he said, rather than 'see you later' which he had no intention of doing. Instead, he worked his way through the growing throngs of people, smiling back to any who smiled at him first, but not being distracted from his ultimate goal of sitting down with his valet.
"Evening, ladies" he said when finally he reached the table, Ianto quickly staring up, looking relieved and slightly flushed.
"This is my employer, Mr Jack Harkness" Ianto introduced him, and all four of the women nodded in greeting with polite smiles, before returning their attentions to the younger of the pair. Jack managed to push himself into the little circle, sitting opposite Ianto and pouring him a drink, which Ianto took with a grateful countenance.
"So ladies, have you been wearing out my valet?" Jack asked.
"Oh, he doesn't mind" one of them beamed. "Do you, Yan?"
"Yan?" Jack snorted, and Ianto nudged his ankle beneath the table.
"It's not often we get new boys in here, especially not so darned handsome" another piped up, gazing at Ianto as if she wanted to take a long lick. Jack couldn't really fault her for that.
By the time the coffee pot was empty, Jack had barely had the chance to say more than ten words to his valet, knowing that even if he did lose his temper and tell the ladies surrounding Ianto to leave them alone, they wouldn't listen – and Ianto was far too polite to do so. Instead, he didn't disguise his glower as they each individually handed him small cards which Jack could only assume were printed with their telephone numbers and/or addresses, before finally they floated away, one by one.
As the last one left, throwing Ianto a theatrical wink as she did, Ianto closed his eyes and let out a very long breath. Jack's every fibre was telling him to drag his seat alongside Ianto, to be close to him, but his common sense reminded him that he'd just spent an hour being crowded... he would need a minute to breathe.
"Somebody's popular" Jack commented, plastering on a tight smile.
"Apparently so, sir" Ianto replied, still looking distinctly pink-cheeked and tugging at his collar.
"Did you like it, Jones?"
"The attention, sir?"
"Yes."
"It was... different. I'm not used to it. Flirting en masse takes practice, I imagine. Perhaps you could give me lessons, sir?" Ianto smirked.
"I resent that snide remark, Jones" Jack pouted.
"Not snide, sir. Accurate."
"Well, maybe. But I won't be giving you lessons. Can't have you getting too good at it."
Ianto smiled, visibly relaxing now that it was just the two of them.
"Concerned for your reputation, sir?" he asked. "You're not used to having to share the ladies' affections, after all."
Jack frowned, not quite grasping his meaning, before it occurred to him – Ianto thought he was envious of him because he was holding the women's attention. He chuckled, unable to stop himself.
"Jones, I wasn't scowling burning holes into the backs of their heads because I wanted them to focus on me" he explained. Ianto tilted his head, and after a moment understanding dawned in his eyes.
"Ahh..."
"Yeah."
"You were jealous of them, sir."
"That's right."
"I see."
Ianto stared into Jack's eyes and felt his smile grow of its own accord, with the knowledge that for the past hour, Jack had been yearning for his own attention rather than that of four beautiful women. Beautiful they were, and their looks matched their tenacity. They had approached him as a pack and descended with a barrage of compliments, as he tried to answer their questions as quickly and politely as possible. He had assumed that when Jack appeared, they would shift focus... but apparently not. Ianto was a man content to live in another person's shadow – it was the basis of his chosen career, after all – and Jack's shadow seemed to stretch on endlessly. He'd felt exposed, surrounded by captivated ladies, though what there was of his male ego did preen itself somewhat.
However he found it impossible to unwind around them, in sharp contrast to how he felt now, with just Jack and his expression of deep, dark, semi-illicit fondness. Of all of the exciting, interesting, sparkling people in this room, Jack only wanted to talk to the man he spent all day, every day with. Ianto tapped his ankle with the toe of his shoe again, gentler this time.
"Sir, although this club is exceedingly charming, I wonder if an early night may be in order."
Jack's eyes blazed as he pretended to consider the proposal.
"Are you sure, Jones? I did bring you out to socialise... meet some interesting people. We are together constantly" he replied, a little insecurity creeping into his tone.
"Quite sure, sir" Ianto replied with complete confidence. "To be perfectly honest, I simply wish to be where you are" he said, mirroring the words Jack used on the night they left his father's favourite pub together. The 'only' before the 'you' hung heavy in the air between them.
Jack made no further comment, not trusting his voice as he remembered speaking those words himself on an evening that was etched warmly into his memory. Instead, he simply smiled and led the way, this time not just ignoring those around him, but barely even seeing them.
The knowledge that Ianto was following him, as he always did, was all that mattered.