7

Ianto is in the village, wandering about looking at store facings and wondering if it was time to change the pots of colour when a car zooms past. It is going too fast, has unfamiliar number plates and the men driving it are CLEARLY not from around these parts or they would have NEVER done that in front of Ianto.

Ianto follows at pace, not even aware of the slight hitch in his step as he favours his hip but still kept up a good pace. That swimming pool is still a godsend, thanks Cariad. He comes to the sporting goods store and slows seeing the car parked ahead and four young men getting out, all laughing and talking animatedly about some hunting on the mountain.

Oh? Really? On MY mountain? Hmmmmm.

Ianto follows them into the store and finds one already in conversation with Mort who is leaning back with annoyance at the close proximity. Ah. Booze breath maybe?

Three youths help themselves to six-packs from a cooler. The leader, Dwight, sees Ianto and swaggers over. "You got a problem old man?"

Ianto blinks slowly. Huh? Seriously? Ianto looks down at himself and sees the old hand knitted cardigan with big pockets full of sweets, hankies and spare change… well… maybe he is getting older but damn… he is still in his prime the little fucker…"I am the man who will kick your arse if you don't get out of my village."

The punks are flabbergasted. Dwight splutters "What? Who do you think you are, old man? Huh?"

Dwight pushes Ianto against the counter. Ianto's eyes blaze. The punks laugh. Dwight takes a fighting stance. "Ha! Hey old man! Answer me! Who do you think you are? Huh?"

Dwight swings... but Ianto dodges easily. Ianto grabs the punk's throat, squeezes hard, lifts him off the ground. Dwight gags. Ianto's fierce eyes drill deep into the startled, helpless punk's eyes. Ianto growls "I'm Ianto Harkness-Jones. I've been through fire, been shot, survived cancer and beaten bigger fuckheads than you. I have killed many men, and loved only one man with a passion a flea like you could never begin to understand. That's who I am."

Dwight pulls a switchblade "Come on! We'll show this old bastard who's tough."

The others pull knives: CLICK. CLICK. CLICK. KA-CHUNK. In the store's doorway, Mort now levels a shotgun at the punks. "Now boys, you're fixing to let those teenage hormones get you into a world of trouble."

Mi Lady agrees from Ianto's side with a deep threatening growl. Wanna play?

The pale youths drop their knives. And Ianto is furious. "Damn it Mort! Did I ask you to butt in?!"

"Ianto… I…."Mort splutters as Mi' Lady slips around him to eyeball the one who clearly thinks he is in charge… isn't he in for a surprise.

"Hell, there's only four of 'em!" Ianto argues with annoyance " fine. Look … I will just fight him... then I'll let you shoot the rest of 'em. OK?"

Peeved, Mort knows better than to argue, nods angrily. The youths look confused. Ianto points to Dwight. "Hey, you. Pick up that knife."

"Huh?"

"Son, you need all the help you can get."