2
Tactical operations for "Operation: Get a Date" started three days later when Ianto went to enlist a makeover from his cousin, Beatrice's twin sister, Bianca.
"This is going to be so much fun!" Bianca exclaimed as soon as she threw open the front door.
Ianto wrinkled his nose. "For you, maybe."
"Oh, don't be like that." Bianca pulled him inside. "I've always wanted to get my hands on you. There is so much we can do."
"What does that mean?" Ianto asked as he allowed himself to be led back to Bianca's room. "Am I hideous now?"
Bianca clicked her tongue in exasperation. "You know you're not, Cousin Ianto. It's just that you don't make an effort. You have so much promise, if you'd only let your light shine."
"Fine, let's get me shiny and handsome."
The transformation started with makeup. Bianca kept applying product after product…foundation, concealer, eye shadow, glittery stuff under his eyebrows, eyeliner, mascara, blush, lip liner and lipstick. It felt like enough makeup to cause a circus clown to flinch. Then, Bianca tackled Ianto's hair, straightening it to within an inch of its life.
The crowning glory was a bright blue suit. At least Bianca called it a suit meant for a regular human being. Ianto thought it looked more like it belonged on a boy heading to a bar mitzvah or maybe first communion or something.
"No way," Ianto said, holding out a hand as if to ward off an evil spirit. "There are way too many years on this body and too much fashion sense in these bones for me to attempt wearing that."
Bianca held up another yellow suit. Ianto glared. Finally she sighed and held up a charcoal one with a pale yellow shirt. "Come on Ianto, yellow is so … cheerful."
"No tie?"
"Cousin! Goodness no. Do not do up the top two buttons, you hear me?"
Ianto sighed and did as he was told. After all, it had been his idea to shake things up and change his life. He looked in the mirror and groaned at the makeup, pulling at wet wipes as he took control.
Ianto emerged from the closet. Bianca's eyes widened, and she clapped like a little girl being presented with her first tricycle.
"Oh, Cousin Ianto, you look amazing."
Sweet girl. She had to say that. "I feel ridiculous."
"It's the truth. Come see."
Bianca waved him over to the mirror, and Ianto went with extreme reluctance.
"You have to actually look," Bianca said, nudging Ianto's shoulder. "Open your eyes."
Ianto took a deep breath and obeyed. Then gasped in shock. He blinked, but when he opened his eyes, the image in the mirror hadn't changed. He barely recognized the man staring back him. Gone was the mousy church secretary. In his place was a hottie, heading out for a night of clubbing. His eyes were smoky and sultry, his hair shone like brown silk, and his lips begged to be kissed.
His lips had never begged for anything of the sort before, but Ianto was pretty sure that was what they were doing now. Something else was begging for attention, too. In his haste to get into the garments, he'd barely paid attention to the open V of the shirt. Now, he couldn't help but notice its effects. Ianto looked down, marveling that he was seeing chest hair where none had ever been shown before.
Scandalous.
"You look edible!" she gushed.
"Except, at some point I have to take the gear off, at which time everything reverts back to its natural state," Ianto said. "It's like a very cruel, twisted version of Cinderella."
"Stop it." Bianca laughed. "You look hot. Seriously, this guy won't know what hit him."
Ianto looked in the mirror again; still unable to believe
he could look like a real man, not a church mouse but… wow… a Tiger!
Bianca gave Ianto a push. "Go, or you'll be late. Knock him dead."
Ianto grabbed his coat and headed outside.
Despite the calendar's claim that Christmas was three weeks away, the weather remained warm in this part of Wales, so at least the attempt to attract this divorced doctor with two first names wouldn't lead to hypothermia. Jumping into his car, Ianto drove toward the restaurant. He'd suggested a place outside of town. No sense alerting the gossip brigade of Cardiff about his date. The fact that Ianto Jones even had a date would be enough to send shock waves through his town.
Ianto guided his ancient sedan past the familiar town welcome sign with the giant Dragon, and soon he reached the highway. Five miles outside of town, he rounded a familiar curve. His hands tightened on the wheel, and he concentrated on the road in front of him, refusing to look at the small patch of grass where his entire family's life had changed in an instant.
Ianto had just let out a sigh of relief when his car suddenly started to sputter. "What? No!"
He managed to guide his coughing, jerking, dying vehicle to the side of the road before the aging car gave up the ghost. He reached for his parcel bag and rummaged around inside for his cell, thanking God and all the angels for whoever had invented mobile communications. With any luck he could get back to town, commandeer his father's car, and still make his date.
Except there…was…no…phone…in…his…bag.
Fighting a rising panic, Ianto dumped the entire contents of the bag on the passenger seat.
Still nothing.
A sudden image of his cell phone tossed onto Bianca's bed popped into his mind.
Cursing softly–his mother would forgive a string of obscenities under these circumstances–Ianto popped the hood and got out, slamming the door hard enough to make the car shimmy. He peered at the vehicle's inner workings, with absolutely no clue what to look for.
"Don't ruin this for me," Ianto muttered to the silent engine. Apparently, said engine didn't care if he died an old bachelor.
"Okay," he said, taking a deep breath. "Calm down and think."
Except thinking was getting harder to do. Ianto peered down the road, but there were no cars coming from either direction. It was too far to walk back to town and besides he was wearing the brogues he hated because they had no traction and were slippery in the wet. Not only would he wind up with blisters the size of Wales, he could fall and break his neck. A body cast had to be on the list of 'what not to wear' for a blind date.
Issuing a desperate oath, Ianto looked up at the dark sky. "Please. Help me out here. Come on."
No sooner had the words left his mouth than a rumble sounded in the distance. His mind registered motorcycle at the same moment the machine appeared.
Ianto glanced up at the heavens again. "Really? Mama? This is what you send?"
For a split second he contemplated diving for the bushes. After all, the rider could be a serial killer or something. Ianto had seen those movies where the too stupid to live virgin gets slashed to bits by a psychopath wielding a machete. And since he was dressed pretty much like those sad nerdy virgins, Ianto feared he might be in for a similar fate.
Of course, the biker could be a middle-aged insurance salesman out for a joyride, and who was he to judge when someone needed a little adventure in their life?
Wasn't he trying to do the same thing?
Either way, he'd hesitated too long. A beam of light flashed across his face, and then the bike veered off the road, pulling up in front of his dead car.
"Don't think about dead things," Ianto whispered to himself. "Think accountant."
The engine cut off, and the abrupt absence of the motorcycle's roar made the ensuing silence even more profound. The night seemed darker too, even as the piercing beam of the bike's headlight made him freeze like an animal awaiting the impact of an oncoming car.
Peering past the circle of white, Ianto tried to get a glimpse of his rescuer, but could only make out a black silhouette of a man. He took off his helmet and came around the front. As he stepped in front of the headlight, Ianto got his first look at the man who would hopefully turn out to be his savior and not a maniac killer.
His panicked brain might be adding several inches to his height, but Biker Man seemed impossibly tall. He wore standard motorcycle attire that included blue jeans and a black leather jacket. At least Ianto assumed them to be standard attire based on the movies he'd seen.
He came closer, and when Ianto finally got a good look at his face his mouth dropped open. Biker Man had chiseled features, with the makings of a very decent five o' clock shadow, disordered black hair, and piercing blue eyes that couldn't be missed even in the dark.
"Okay, you're forgiven," Ianto said, sending up a thankful prayer.
How could he be anything but grateful when such a delicious specimen of manhood had appeared to save him? Probably straight.
At least he hoped Biker Man planned a rescue and not a murder with a side of body stashing in the woods.
"Hi," Biker Man said. "Car trouble?"
Nerves and frustration boiled up in one snappish outburst. "No, I like loitering on the side of the road hoping a sadistic killer will chop me up and leave me for dead. I've always wanted to be the breaking story on the evening news."
Even white teeth flashed in the night. "Sorry, I can't help you gain immortality, but maybe I can help some other way."
Hold it together, Ianto. Do not insult the nice man who stopped to save your hide. Running off your angel won't get you to the restaurant any sooner.
"Sorry," Ianto said. "I'm late for my first date in like five years, and I'm nervous and dressed like a man who wants to give you a good time. Now, my car has apparently decided I shouldn't have a social life. Meanwhile, a divorced doctor with two first names is probably waiting for me at the restaurant, thinking I've stood him up."
The stranger's brow quirked. "What?"
Way to play the crazy man, Ianto. So much for getting a hold of your emotions.