27 – The Dating Mentor

W/C: 2163
Warnings/spoilers/content: PG13, gentle smut and profanity
Summary: Jack finds a dating mentor.
Characters: Ianto, immortal-Jack, Tosh
Ianto's New Timeline: December 28-29, 2005

DECEMBER 28, 2005 - PM

JACK CAME HUFFING AROUND THE CORNER, went straight to Tosh's desk. He needed help. "I think he's mad." He was so out of breath that he barely managed to gasp out the words. What he needed was a translator. A 21st Century translator.

"How can you tell?" She mumbled. She didn't even look up. She was always so wrapped up in her latest project. Help me Tosh! He wanted to scream and shake his fists in the air.

"Well, he left," he began. She looked at him closely. He was sweating. His face was flushed. He looked out of breath. "Said I was presumptuous. Said he'd already made plans. Said I'd better look into that concept. Maybe find a tutor." He looked at her, pleadingly. "Tosh, help me. Why is he mad?" Weariness was settling in. He'd always found this kind of shit exhausting. That's why he didn't usually even bother. For Jack, 'relationship' had become a dirty word.

She took pity on him. Partly because she felt for me and partly because he was a challenge, perhaps even a diversionary project. She looked him up and down. "Did you have a fight?" she asked, finally. He nodded, ran a hand through his dampened hair. She made a tisking sound with her tongue. "You two kind of rushed into things, Jack. You need to do it right." She resumed typing and scanning but only for a minute. Then she prepared to give him her full attention.

"Do what right?" His voice rose an octave. Eyes wide and wild.

Orbital roll. "Dating, Jack. Just because you're shagging doesn't mean you don't need to woo."

"I need to woo?" Up another octave.

"Hell, ya." She sighed. This was going to take some work. "He's a 21st Century boy. You need to learn our ways if you want to keep him happy." Amusement was clearly seeping through, her words were dripping with it. "Well, keep him period I'd say." She knew Jack was from another time, she just didn't know which one. There was one thing she was certain of though, and that was the fact that Jack absolutely sucked at interpersonal relationships. In any time period.

Jack blanched at her last comment. He hadn't wanted to keep anyone around, not for a very long time. But he'd begun to feel differently about me over the last few weeks. He'd had a crisis while I'd been away. He knew he had to make a choice. He could've followed normal procedure—had casual shags when and wherever he wanted—kept his heart closed. Safe. Simple. But ever since I'd come into his life—for the second time—he'd felt an unfamiliar spark. The rules had changed. He wasn't waiting for the Doctor anymore. He wasn't sure what he was doing anymore. The rules had changed. And it was all because of me. "All right." He made a decision. "So I've gotta woo. I can do that. What about tonight? What's that all about?" He was genuinely lost. He didn't even have a starting place as a point of reference.

She shrugged, considered the facts. "He's mad because you took his presence for granted." It was clear as day—hard to believe he couldn't see it. She may suck at actual human interaction but she was a master of observation. Plus, she felt like she was getting close to me. She had a good idea what my little rant was all about.

"How did I do that?" He protested, lamely.

"Did you make plans?" She asked quickly, like a Drill Sergeant.

"No." He admitted, reluctantly.

"Did he tell you he wanted to go out tonight?" Drill Sergeant Tosh threw another question at Private Jack.

"Er. Yes." He admitted, now embarrassed for not having paid attention.

"Did you, somehow, convey the fact that you expected him to do something with you tonight even though you didn't make any plans with him?" She morphed into Lawyer Tosh.

"Yes." He gulped. It had crossed his mind once or twice, that he had no idea how to 'have a relationship'. And he knew that was exactly what I wanted and wouldn't settle for anything less.

"And that's why he's mad." She announced proudly. She thought for sure he'd get it. Her argument was logically sound. She'd laid it out in simple illustrative steps. A plus B plus C equals D. Clear.

"That's just…" He searched for the word.

"Completely understandable." She held up a hand when he began to sputter. "Remember, you're living in this time and the rules of social interactions apply. I would be mad too. So would everyone I know," she added quickly before he could get a word out. When he didn't respond, she prodded. "Did he actually storm out?" He shook his head. "Did he shout or swear at you?" He shook his head again. She considered. "Sounds like he's sending you a warning shot." He frowned, confused. "It's not too serious." She held up a hand in warning. "But if you do it again, you'll be in deep shit, Jack."

He leaned down over her desk, resting most of his weight on the trembling structure. "I need some help, Tosh. I need you to write that manual for me."

Damn him, he was serious. She groaned. "How about we take it one subject at a time? As they arise?" She smiled hopefully.

He smiled and nodded in agreement. He told her he'd be eternally grateful, and that was saying something. Never underestimate an immortal IOU.

DECEMBER 29, 2005 - AM

JACK STEADIED HIMSELF, PULLED HIS SHOULDERS BACK and walked with confidence towards me. He smiled a tight painful smile, and in his most cheerful voice, he asked, "Did you have a nice evening?"

"Yes, it was great." I smiled graciously. "Thank you for asking." I'd worn my favorite suit today paired with a sexy new blood red silk shirt. No tie. A few buttons open. Let the punishment begin. I maintained the appropriate air of professionalism, as always but there was a distance between us and I'm sure Jack felt it.

Jack grimaced. This was some kind of code. Some kind of social dance. A trap even. He needed that manual dammit. He wanted to search out Tosh but he forced himself to remain steady.

He was making an effort so I gave him a break. "Oh, and the Inspector wants to meet you," I told him. "I thought maybe we could go out to dinner," I suggested after a beat. "Sometime soon?" I was hopeful.

Jack gulped. Now, he wants me to meet his surrogate father. Shit! He was a fish out of water. And he was swimming up shit creek. "That sounds nice?" He ventured. His voice rose at the end. He looked so unsure. I couldn't contain the grin. It cracked the edge of my face. I squeezed my lips together to fight the smile bubbling there. I turned away and squeezed my eyes shut. When I opened them, I saw Tosh staring at me. She was pleading for mercy with her eyes. I turned around and smiled at Jack.

"Thank you, Jack." I stepped closer. I felt a little bad about ditching him the night before. A little. "I really appreciate it. He's been asking for a while now and I've been putting him off." I'd been holding off alright. I hadn't actually admitted to 'seeing' my boss to the Inspector until a few weeks ago. I hadn't told Rhi yet either. I guess I'd been waiting to see how things turned out.

Jack waffled. Took a chance. "Why's that?" Was it a dangerous question? He didn't know. Manual. Manual. Manual. He chanted. The word echoed inside his brain.

Careful now. "I figured you needed some time." Not too much honestly. He'll freak. His eyes scrunched together. I took a chance and told him the truth. "I didn't want you to feel pressured to meet my family." I blurted. He relaxed—saw I was struggling too. He thanked the Goddess of Mercy for not being the only one bumbling around in the forest. I started to second-guess myself, him, us. Maybe it was too soon. "Listen, if you really don't want to meet him I'll—"

"No. No, it's fine." He stepped closer, his hand grazed mine. "Really," he said, looking deep into my eyes. His hand slid up my arm. "I'd like to meet him." It stopped on my shoulder, where he squeezed gently. He looked into my eyes searchingly. "He's important to you?" he asked. I nodded. "So, I'd like to meet him." He finished and I remembered to breath. I'd been holding my breath.

I sighed, relieved. "Thanks, Jack." I smiled, weakened. I leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the cheek. The one on his face.

I had a pile of reports to file so I told him I'd talk to him later and headed for the archives. Jack immediately sought out Tosh, desperate for that manual. When their eyes met, she smiled and held two thumbs up. He shook his head and squinted—couldn't believe he got through that. "Seriously? That was good?" She nodded, emphatically. "That felt horrible," he groaned. He ran a hand through his hair. "I need that damn manual Tosh. Seriously." He gave her a look that said he meant business.

DECEMBER 29, 2005 - EVENING

LAUNDRY NIGHT. I kind of love it. A fact that I'm rather embarrassed about. It's one of the best ways to sooth my hectic thoughts. It's the process—a ritual, if you will. Sort each item into the correct pile. Switch a few items around strategically when the greyish pile was too small to fill the washer. Socks and underwear always go first. I'm out. Wearing nothing but my oldest t-shirt and a pair of threadbare pyjama bottoms. Fire trucks. The washer fills. The water splashes and gurgles. I toss in the soap and watch it suds. Then, in go my socks and underwear. Close the lid. Turn up the music. Dance around the kitchen while the kettle boils. The minute the washer finishes I run and pull out the soggy rags and transfer them to the dryer. Now, that's a sound. The heat and the tumble. Soothing. I could make a nest right beside it, on the floor. I could fall into oblivion so easily here. Next to the dryer. I threw in another load. Resumed my dancing around the kitchen. But my little ritual was interrupted abruptly when the doorbell rang. I muttered, turned down the music and went to see who it was.

It was Jack. Jack was at my door. Jack was holding a small bouquet of flowers. Jack was smiling sheepishly. If he got anymore sheepish, he'd sprout white curly fur. After a moment of utter shock and more than a little disbelief, I invited him in. Now it was my turn at sheepish. I looked down—barefoot, threadbare, scruffy, hooligan. "It's laundry night," I explained.

"What?" He checked me out. "You look great. Relaxed." He smiled. "It's nice." He wiggled the flowers in the air. He was obviously asking what he should do with them.

"Here. I'll put them in water." I took out a little vase. "Thank you, by the way. It's very thoughtful of you, Jack." I thought about the possible reasons for such a gesture. He'd never done it before. It put me on edge.

"I thought you deserved an apology. For the other night. I wanted to say sorry for taking you for granted." He'd practiced the words over and over again—in front of Tosh, in front of the mirror, in the car on the way over. They still sounded weird. Uncomfortable.

Never mind weird. Wow. I sputtered. "Th.. thank you Jack." Wow.

We sat at the kitchen table. I made us some coffee in my new press. His hand wiggled across the table, covering the distance between us. He caressed my hand. Ran a fingertip over the sensitive skin on the top of my hand. I totally lost it. I got up and pulled his chair out from under the table. He tried to get up but I pushed him back down into the chair. I leaned in, captured his lips. Devoured his mouth. Slid my tongue around his. Closer. I needed to be closer. I straddled him. It was the only way. I wrapped my limbs around him. I revelled in the moans he made. Then the buzzer went. I grinned. Stood up. Went to switch the loads. Jack was left, bereft. Shocked and confused. When I came back into the kitchen I didn't resume my straddle. I took his hand and led him to the bedroom.

Continued in… 28 – Safe Places