Chapter Thirty-Six
Pip pip, all! Bit of a lull in reviews, this week... was it something I said? *sad face*
I discovered a few days ago that there's a user on YouTube called wolfxbloed who seems to have uploaded not only all four series of Jeeves and Wooster in ten minute increments, but also some audio versions of the original texts, so I thought I'd share that fact for anybody who wishes to watch/listen to the inspiration behind my story.
Speaking of which, I was struck violently by inspiration earlier in the week and I'm in the process of planning another AU which I won't start writing/uploading until Jones and Harkness is over. It will be inspired by another BBC show, much more loosely than in this story, but it's a more well-known programme so my concern is that it's been done before... hopefully not how I plan to do it, at least. It will certainly be a lot darker than this, and I'm ludicrously excited about it. But for now, Jones and Harkness has my full attention until the end.
So read, review if you wish and enjoy as always.
For two frankly idyllic days, master and valet fell into a new and at once comfortingly familiar routine. On the evening that they arrived back in Cardiff, they went to bed as a fully-fledged couple and by the time Jack awoke the following morning, Ianto had already restocked the pantry and was waving a cup of black nectar beneath his nose. The only thing more blissful would have been for Ianto to still be lying in his arms – something Jack accomplished only after finishing his coffee and testing his ability to tackle with stealth. He was rewarded with an indignant cry of his name and various threats on his wardrobe if Jack dared to crease or stain his suit, but it was worth the struggle when finally, Ianto was coerced into a lingering kiss which made Jack quiver from the toes up.
Ianto knew that once the boat journey was over, with its dreamlike quality that seemed totally abstract from reality, he should have immediately (if gently) reinstated the rules their life together had come to run smoothly upon. But if Jack had seemed persuasive before, it was a quality which had doubled in its effect on Ianto since the air between them had become clear and contented.
Logically, he knew that allowing the personal and professional to overlap to a point where the two were indistinguishable would only cause more harm in the future. One day they would be separated, and while he wasn't entirely convinced that he could love Jack any more deeply than he already did, he could too easily become used to the sense of them being, as Jack worded it, live-in lovers – a situation that would be even more of an agonising wrench to pull himself away from. At the same time, allowing the chance to pass by could be an even worse fate...
"Stop thinking, Jones. You're spoiling the moment" Jack murmured against his lips, slipping both hands beneath Ianto's waistcoat.
"Sir... you have to eat" Ianto replied, his last threads of resolve weakening as Jack's hands spread across his ribcage, his touch hot through thin cotton.
"I am eating" Jack smirked, nipping Ianto's lower lip in demonstration. "I could feast on you forever, Ianto Jones."
"You need something more substantial, sir."
"Oh, I don't know, Jones... you fill me up very nicely."
Ianto hid his chuckle with a huff and found the strength to squirm away, leaving Jack splayed across the mattress, his sinuous back and flawless buttocks on display.
"You're no fun" he sighed into a pillow, curling up as if to fall asleep once more.
"Sir, I insist that you find your way out of bed. Breakfast hour has long since passed even for you, and I need to change the sheets."
Jack turned his head to grin at him, the sight enough to weaken Ianto's very soul.
"And whose fault is that, Jones?"
"It was a joint effort" Ianto dryly replied, his left eyebrow betraying any attempt to remain impassive.
"Oh yeah" Jack purred happily, taking one more moment to nuzzle the bedclothes before dragging his sleep-warmed body from their embrace. "And what an effort it was" he added, simultaneously kissing Ianto's cheek and pinching his backside as he slithered by. It was all Ianto needed to conclude that it was worth losing yet another layer of the flimsy barrier between them, to see Jack so completely relaxed in himself.
It was another restful day before Rhys Williams called and begged in panicked tones for Jack to arrive at Ystradgynlais Hall early, desperate to speak to him – although apparently not desperate enough to tell either Jack or Ianto of his woes over the telephone. Ever the dutiful friend, Jack reluctantly agreed with a very Jonesian roll of his eyes and requested that Ianto start the packing.
"Do you think he's found out about Gwen and Knobby, Jones?" Jack pondered aloud, watching Ianto fold his socks (his valet didn't believe in balling).
"Perhaps so, sir. In my experience, unfaithful episodes of that kind are all too common these days and will always result in pain for the third party."
"What experience is that exactly, Jones?" Jack asked quietly, disturbed by the idea of Ianto being hurt in such a way as much as the image of Ianto himself being unfaithful. The latter seemed inconceivable, but still.
"A few of my more mature masters in London, sir. Some of them were not especially careful" Ianto replied with a grim smile. "I spent a great deal of my time fabricating tales of my employers' whereabouts for the sake of young ladies' hearts."
"You're a true gentleman, Jones."
"Thank you, sir. In that situation, somebody has to be."
"I'm surprised any of them let you go."
"I find that all too often, gentlemen of a certain age grow weary of a young valet, sir. They believe it emasculates them somehow to look ageing and tired in comparison."
"That I can believe" Jack chuckled, twirling a velvet trilby on his index finger; "not to mention your stunning good looks, Jones. They could make anybody feel inferior."
Ianto turned to him as he closed Jack's suitcase with a clean click, smiling knowingly.
"Even you, sir?" he teased, and Jack's expression softened into something intense and honest.
"Even me, Jones" he confirmed, watching Ianto's countenance falter with surprise. "Come on, Ianto... you're beautiful."
Ianto shifted a little uncomfortably and hauled Jack's case off the bed, tucking it neatly against the wall and brushing invisible dust from his lapels.
"I'll start supper, sir" he announced and moved to stride out of the room, pulled back almost comically mid-step by Jack's hand grasping his own. Taking a quick glance at the clock to check that it was gone six PM (not that he took those old rules particularly seriously any more), Jack stood up and cradled Ianto's face in both hands before kissing him deeply, pushing past Ianto's slight reluctance and parting the young man's lips with his tongue. Ianto's hands hung awkwardly at his sides for a moment before sliding around Jack's hips, his thumbs fitting perfectly within those twin warm dips.
Jack only ended the caress when Ianto began pushing towards him, chasing Jack's lips as he broke away before leaning away, looking vaguely embarrassed by his own sense of need.
"What's the occasion, sir?" he asked, his voice roughened by unexpected desire as he licked his lip.
"Can't a man sexually harass his valet without being questioned?" Jack asked with faux-irritation, a teasing smile playing about his lips. Ianto chose not to answer verbally, instead placing another quick kiss on Jack's lips – the first of the day initiated by him. Jack's beaming grin was such a fine reward.
By brunch time the following morning they were on their way to Ystradgynlais by car, Jack lounging in the passenger seat wearing obscenely styleless sunglasses while Ianto studied the road. It was quite freeing to be making the journey in something other than the confines of a train carriage, and he certainly felt soothed by the familiarity of the winding Welsh roads, but it did require a certain amount of concentration – something regularly scuppered by Jack shouting in his ear to make himself heard over the wind.
Ianto let out a breath of satisfied relief as the great hall came into view, nestled within a vast expanse of glorious greenness which was apparently so exciting to Jack that he was out of the car before the vehicle had stopped.
"I forgot how gorgeous this place is, Jones" he announced, spinning on his heel in the gravel as Ianto handed over the car keys to the Coopers' personal driver, in order for it to be taken to the private garages.
"Perhaps sir was too busy avoiding Miss Cooper to pay much attention to his surroundings?" he suggested, following Jack pace or two behind. Jack laughed and turned to face him, striding backwards with utter disregard for the placement of his feet.
"Precisely, Jones. But young Gwen is no longer in a position to marry me" he grinned, suddenly stopping and leaning close to Ianto as he continued in a conspiratorial tone; "and I'm not in a position to marry her either, but that's our little secret."
Ianto smiled down at the crushed stone driveway, feeling heat pool in the tips of his ears and knowing that Jack was staring at him with all of his affection.
"Oi, Jackie! 'Bout bloody time!" a thickly accented voice bellowed from the main doorway of the hall, and the slap of Rhys' hand against his friend's spine almost shoved even a man as broad and muscular as Jack into Ianto's arms. Not that he would have minded.
"Jingo!" Jack exclaimed, a trained eye noting that his toothy smile was slightly forced. "What's all the panic about them, old man? You'd better have a good excuse for dragging me down here early when I could have stayed in bed all day."
Ianto's left eyebrow twitched slightly, but he reigned it in.
"Not here, Harkness" Rhys hissed, glancing around with the look of a condemned man. "Come on, we'll talk in your suite."
Jack threw a bemused look at his valet before the trio entered the house and ascending the grand stairwell, Ianto taking in the decades of Welsh family life and idyllic views which adorned the walls with the pride of a man who adored his country.
Rhys jostled them into a vast bedroom, urging Jack to sit in one of the armchairs while he perched on the edge of the one opposite, Ianto taking up his standing position behind his master.
"Are you ever going to spit it out, Jingo?" Jack prompted, frowning in the face of frayed nerves in such a stocky man – both physically and emotionally – as Rhys Williams.
"Yeah, yeah... it's just... I'm... I'm bloody terrified of Geraint Cooper" Rhys blurted, and Jack would have laughed if he didn't look so painfully sincere. "I need you and Jones to help me. A week ago I realised I'd have to make a speech at the wedding reception... and that Geraint Cooper and John Ellis would both be there! Ellis is just as bloody terrifying, if not more..."
"John Ellis?" Jack queried, and Ianto leaned down slightly.
"Mr. Ellis is a close friend of Sir Cooper's, sir" he informed him in hushed tones. "A formidable character and the leader of a notoriously radical political group which calls itself Miracle Day."
"Miracle Day?" Jack snorted derisively.
"Indeed sir, the premise of which is solid enough but the execution is weak and contradictory, if I may be so bold."
"You may, Jones."
"Thank you, sir."
"You're welcome."
"Excuse me!" Rhys cried indignantly. "If you two could stop flirting, I have a bloody problem here!"
Ianto slid his default stoic expression back into place while Jack looked utterly unrepentant.
"Your arse is on the line too, Jack" Rhys continued, pointing an accusing finger at his friend. "You're not exactly in Geraint's good books after your last visit here, and he hates me even more than he did before for inviting you to the wedding!"
Jack hissed through his teeth, having completely forgotten about the circumstances of his leaving Ystradgynlais Hall last time. Everybody in this house, including Gwen, thought that Jack had cavorted with one of the kitchen staff and broken Gwen's heart... he couldn't blame them for disliking Rhys by association.
"Fair point" he conceded. "Avoidance tactics on red alert, then. But why did he hate you in the first place?"
"Oh, you know these bloody snobs... I'm not posh enough for the saintly Coopers and their only daughter. They think I'm a bit of rough from the wrong side of the valley. But Gwen likes me for who I am so I'd love to tell Geraint to just bugger himself... I cannot stand the blighter... but I haven't the nerve."
"Where are you from, Jingo?" Jack asked, realising he didn't know. Rhys let out a regretful little sigh and answered in an embarrassed tone, "Splott."
"Splott" Jack repeated quietly, nodding in sympathy. He was aware of the town by reputation – enough to know it wasn't looked upon favourably by the privileged classes.
"I believe property developers pronounce it Sploe, sir" Ianto pointed out, and Jack had to hide his laughter with a small forced coughing fit.
"They would. It's a bloody disgrace out there, but I've left that all behind. I shouldn't be defined by where I was born!"
"Perhaps I can be of assistance, sir" Ianto suggested, a hint of satisfaction on his otherwise impassive face which Jack recognised immediately for what it was.
"That was quick even for you, Jones" Jack grinned with obvious pride.
"Thank you sir, but it's simple psychology. It occurs to me that we do not fear those whom we truly despise. The tactic, therefore, is to cultivate a kind of lofty contempt for those in question, rendering any imagined threat redundant."
"How do I do that?" Rhys huffed.
"You simply fill your mind with scornful thoughts of them, sir" Ianto replied.
"So... really, I'd be playing them at their own high-and-mighty game?"
"Precisely, sir."
"Jones... that's... brilliant! You're a marvel!"
"Thank you, sir."
Rhys beamed, clapping his hands together. "Right, well, that should be easy enough! I think I'll start with the fact that Ellis' moustache looks like somebody squashed a fly on his upper lip..."
"That's the spirit, Jingo" Jack enthused.
"Is that how you cope with Jack, Jones? Thinking of all the things you hate about him until he becomes tolerable?" Rhys teased, rising from his armchair and grinning mischievously.
"Thanks for that" Jack mumbled, his fine mood suddenly diminished somewhat.
Ianto fought the urge to place a comforting hand on Jack's shoulder, instead straightening his own and stating; "what I hate about Mr. Harkness would last me less than a minute, sir. He is the finest man I know."
Jack's glee came roaring back and he smirked smugly at Rhys, whose eyebrows were raised in disbelief.
"Yeah, well, he's paid to say that" he said dismissively. "Anyway, listen Jack – keep out of Geraint's way, alright? And Gwen's, too. No showing off around the place."
"Do I show off?" Jack asked, tilting his head back to gaze at Ianto, who looked down at him apologetically.
"Just a little, sir."
"I'll come and get you for dinner. Geraint and Mary don't especially want to see you, or me for that matter, so we'll be having ours in the smaller dining room and you can help me with this list. Just... stay out of trouble."
"Scout's honour" Jack said, raising three fingers.
"You were never a scout!"
"It's the thought that counts."
Rhys huffed one last time in a signature gesture of his and left them alone, the cogs of his mind moving almost audibly as he contemplated Ianto's suggestion.
"He's right, Jones... you really are a marvel" Jack agreed when the door was closed, hanging his head off the edge of his seat again and staring up at the young man. Even upside-down from two feet below, he was beautiful. Ianto smiled back, watching as one of Jack's hands snaked teasingly up his chest and wrapped around his vermilion tie, tugging it gently until Ianto bent to him. Their lips met in an awkwardly-angled kiss but Jack moaned still, fondling the silk between his fingers, and Ianto sighed with delight despite himself.
"That's not for helping Jingo, Jones... that's for standing up for me" Jack murmured, finally allowing Ianto to rise and tuck his tie back into his waistcoat.
"It was my pleasure, sir" Ianto purred, a small crease forming in his brow as a thought occurred to him, before he continued. "With your permission, I wonder if it would be feasible for me to drive to Crickhowel for the evening... since we're in Powys already."
"Crickhowel? Why?" Jack asked, motioning for Ianto to seat himself opposite him, with which Ianto complied.
"I was invited many weeks ago to attend an evening at the Harwood Society sir, a sort of club for valets and butlers all over Wales. We were in New York at the time, according to the postage mark, but tonight one of the meetings occurs, and it would be a chance for me to spend a little time with my colleagues. I've failed to visit the club since my first month in your employ."
"Oh, I see... yes, of course you can go!" Jack smiled, refusing to appear desperately needy by seeming anything other than encouraging.
"Thank you, sir" Ianto smiled, happiness glowing from him. "In all honesty, I only recalled the invitation this afternoon."
"You're telling me you forgot something?" Jack teased, his eyebrows arching upwards.
"I lead a life filled with distraction, sir" Ianto replied, his smile morphing into a leer which still looked bizarrely polite.
"Is that what you talk about at this club, then? Your masters and how they get under your feet?"
"Occasionally, sir. More often than not we speak of things other than our work, to remind ourselves that we still have lives" Ianto replied, and Jack looked contrite.
"Sorry, Jones" he murmured, visibly wincing.
"No apology necessary, sir. I meant nothing negative by it" Ianto replied, tilting his head with an affectionate gaze. "Especially as I am particularly fortunate in my position. Many of my colleagues are not allowed the level of freedom that I possess."
Jack's grin returned, brightening the room..
"Besides which" Ianto continued, "the majority of our discussion about masters is done in the book."
"The book?" Jack frowned.
"The Harwood Society book. It was where I researched you, sir. We write important information about our employers so that the next employee might be educated in their history and ways beforehand."
"Are you saying that this book contains my charming eccentricities, Jones?" Jack gaped, only partially outraged.
"Not from me, sir" Ianto defended himself, "I believe my only entry thus far stated that you showed promise."
"Oh. That's... good. I think" Jack replied, one brow raised.
"The book is for facts, sir, not opinions."
"Mm. Will you be updating my chapter tonight, Jones?"
"Perhaps, sir. Would you prefer glowing praise, or honesty?"
Jack growled, aiming a gentle strike at Ianto's ankle with his foot.
"Both!" he retorted, chuckling when Ianto smiled in victory.
"As you wish, sir... so that your next valet knows what awaits him."
Jack tutted loudly, knowing through the ache that the very idea inspired within him that Ianto was teasing.
"Don't joke about that, Ianto Jones. I won't let you leave my side" he said gently, brushing the toe of his shoe lightly across the flesh he had previously kicked.
Ianto left that subject alone, knowing it was discomforting and treacherous and there would only be one outcome, so instead he gave a small closed-mouthed smile that said whatever you want to believe, Jack.
"The club book might also have some details which could be used by Mr. Williams as fuel against Sir Cooper and Mr. Ellis, sir" he said, the change in subject slightly jarring. "Both of them have employed valets in the past; perhaps it contains some evidence towards certain dealings or facts which might further diminish your friend's fear."
Jack swallowed down a sudden sense of disappointment at Ianto's deflection and plastered on a fresh, encouraging smile.
"Then investigate away, Jones! I know you'll find something" he declared with a wave of his hand.
"I'll try my best, sir. I shall be back by ten... to tuck you into bed" Ianto said, his voice dropping in timbre as he trailed off, a mischievous glint in his baby blue eyes.
"Tuck me into bed?" Jack queried, eyes sparkling.
"Tuck you, sir." Ianto confirmed.
"Jones, are you suggesting we bunk up in the Cooper household?" Jack gasped, his jaw dropping open with mock outrage.
"I feel, sir, that it would be a crime not to take advantage of thick wooden doors with sturdy locks."
Feeling that unidentifiable inward itch leave his body as quickly as it had come, Jack beamed with glee in the face of his valet's devious mind. An illicit kind of shiver prickled at his skin, and everything that was too difficult to think about was shoved firmly into its mental box to be viewed at a much later date.
"Oh, you can bet I'll be waiting up for you, Ianto Jones..." he growled, content for now to take only what he could freely have.