38
John languished on her couch like some giant anaconda, all long and thin. lounge lizard, yeah. A fucking lounge lizard.
"Married, already married. My husband he said, like…ownership is there" she screamed, "Fuck!"
He watched Gwen walk up and down yelling and gesturing at him for a while, then he started ot laugh. She could have had it all. If she had stuck to the plan all those years ago. Jack would have married her to please his family, John would have been his naughty piece on the side. Shit, even a threesome occasionally if he had played it right but just like she did then, Gwen has to push. He had warned her. He had said not to paint him into a corner or he would buck. Like a fucking horse his father couldn't break, Jack would rather buck than deal with a problem. But Gwen had to push. Wheedle. Demand a ring. Push for that wedding instead of letting John work to have Jack think it was all his idea. She had fucked it all up royally.
Sitting there at the dinner table as Jack proudly declared his homosexuality, the big passionate snog and the look of defiance might have destroyed his parents like he had hoped but damn if it hadn't stuffed up John' plans to have all that lovely money as well as that prize winning arse. Gods. He was even gonna make sure she popped out a kid or two, even if he had to fuck her himself to achieve it.
Everything. They would have had it all.
"You are a stupid bitch sometimes" he sighed and she swung to glare at him with her hands on her hips.
"What."
"Gwen, while you were doing the one thing I told you not to, namely stir the pot, I was getting us into their bloody wedding" John smiled, "Gwen, I was at Deano's and the invite is in his refrigerator door for all the world to see. Guess who they went to for the big fucking tent thing he has."
"Marque" she corrected, sitting to listen, "So…they aren't' married yet? I can still fuck things for them?"
"Gwen. This Saturday is a huge shindig at the ranch, the marquee goes up, the caters come in, that local band…er…The Slitherin or whatever they are called, a wedding takes place." John said with a light laugh, "If they were already married would they really do another one so soon after the bloody funeral? Come on. No, she was pulling your chain and you went for it."
Gwen leaned back as she considered things.
"Deano had a spot for me helping put up the tent…marquee…and also with catering for the big day" John said with glee as he watched her eyes widen, "And guess what."
She shrugged.
"There was also a spot for someone in one of those low cut waitress tops and mini skirt to carry trays of nibbles about. Someone who could get right into the groom's room before the big event and maybe talk him out of it?"
"I can do that!" she crowed.
Dim.
So fucking dim this one.
"Yes" he said slowly. "You can. And if he says no I can be the one to plant the seed of doubt in the other one's ear, have him sneak over to confront Jack, I give you a wee sign or message and when he comes in he finds Jack's hand up your skirt or yours down his pants. Whichever works on the day."
"Oh my god" she breathed, "Wait. We don't have to do that, he will be able to see sense. I know how to talk him around."
"Of course you do" John soothed not believing it for a second, "You are such a queen and those boobs are too much for any man to ignore. I mean, look at me all horny and shit looking at them."
She purred as he unfurled and showed his boner, cupping it in his hand, "Now get over here and show me what you are going to do day after tomorrow bitch."
Gwen was eager.
Dim.
But eager.
.
.
.
.
.
"Cariad?"
Jack grunted as sleep called, Ianto still settling in the bed after checking their wee one was still asleep.
"Jack, that Gwen. She was not a recent, right?"
"Nah, before John. Well….with John" Jack slurred, "Like the three musketeers"
"But…not like him right?" Ianto whispered, "Not a bunny boiler."
"Nah" Jack sighed, rolling onto his side to show his annoyance at the questioning, "She was a good friend. No. She's harmless."
Jack sighed softly, and then started to drift as Ianto lay there thinking long into the night.
Something about her hadn't seemed right and Bunny Rabbid saw something in her that screamed of danger.
Tomorrow she would ask Mama Francine, or Mother Harkness.
Or Dee-dee.
Ianto worried.
His big day so close, although already married this would be the day the world saw it. This would be the day that would go on the wall, in the albums. In baby Quinn's keepsake book.
Right?
Ianto rolled to look at the crib in the moonlight.
Bunny worried too.