Chapter Three: Flash Gordon and Gumby Jones

We cannot adopt the way of living that was satisfactory a hundred years ago. The world in which we live has changed, and we must change with it.

Felix Adler

"You mean to tell me people are still wearing jeans and t-shirts?" Ianto asked in a dubious tone when Jack suggested that what he had packed with him was fine to go to the clinic in.

The older man chuckled, "What did you expect, Flash Gordon?" For his part, Jack hadn't altered his usual wardrobe a bit.

"I guess… Maybe." Ianto felt his cheeks grow warm with embarrassment.

Jack didn't seem to notice. Or maybe he was pretending he didn't notice. He drew him up again into another one of those hugs, the warm protective kind that made Ianto forget everything he was afraid of. The younger man closed his eyes a long moment, resting his head against the warmth of his partner's chest…

"Why are you doing this?" Ianto asked him suddenly.

"What?"

"Jack, I know you never wanted to do this again. I know you don't want more children… I know you don't realize I know that," he added. "But I do. I've always known. I know you, remember?" He only barely realized he was babbling almost the same way he had the day he asked Jack for a job. "What I don't know is why we're here."

Jack regarded him for only a brief moment before telling him the truth. "Because it's something you want. Because I love you."

"Is that the right reason, though? Maybe we should… should take another couple of days to think about it…there's no rush, is there?"

Jack studied his partner a long, thoughtful moment, more.

A month ago Ianto had taped what Jack was sure were a million paint chips to the nursery wall, staring at them for days before finally settling on the 'perfect colour', a bright sunshine yellow. Then he drafted Jack, Bobby and Wendy into helping him with the boarder paper. It had teddy bears and butterflies and Jack never ever wanted to have to put up boarder paper again, not even if he lived to a hundred trillion years old.

However, having survived the experience, he'd gone with his partner and Wendy (Bobby suddenly remembered an autopsy he had to perform) to buy a crib, a changing table, dangly thing that went over the crib (it's called a mobile, Jack, Ianto had told him in a dry tone.) Toys. Clothes. Wash clothes. Nappies… everything and then some. Yet Ianto had accused Gwen of nesting…? (Jack wisely kept that observation to himself, however.)

"What are you really worried about, Sweetheart?" Jack asked in a patient tone.

"I… I wonder if this is really the right decision. Look at our lives… isn't it enough that we have Jason to worry about?"

"If you're saying you've changed your mind…" Jack began. But he knew that look. That wasn't it at all. Ianto wanted this just as badly as Jack thought he did. "Talk to me. Tell me what's bothering you."

"What… what if… if I'm not ready for this? I don't know the first thing about being a father, Jack. I'm not even thirty years old… I might not live to see thirty years old."

"Shhh… "

"Jack, we both know what Torchwood is like…"

"And if anything ever happens to you, I…" he felt his throat closing up, but forced himself to continue. "I'll be there for our child, Ianto. I promise. I'll quit if I have to."

He favoured the older man with a wry smile. "You'll never quit, Jack."

He smiled in return. "No. But I'll find a way to make it work. I promise," he fought back the lump in his throat that he always got when Ianto was being fatalistic. "Besides… I'm not going to lose you any time soon. You'll see. In fifty years, people are going to stop and stare when we walk down the street holding hands and think you're a dirty old man…" he forced the grin he flashed his partner.

Ianto chuckled. He had to admit he liked the thought of being together for fifty years…he would have been happy with ten. But that was before Jack asked him if he wanted to have a baby… that changed so much… "Are you sure you want to do this, Cariad?" he asked softly, searching his partner's eyes for some clue… any hint that Jack had reservations…

"Yes. I am. I want it this. I want it with you. I want it because of you."

Ianto pressed his lips to his partner's mouth, kissing him long and hard…

"Are you sure you're all right?" Jack asked him again. Ianto had been holding on so tight.

"I will be. I'm just nervous. About being here. This time. I feel like everyone we meet is going to know I don't belong."

"They won't."

"But what if I say something… do something…? I don't know the first thing about any of this, Jack. I'm not you. I… I'm not the Doctor."

He drew back away from the younger man, but only so he could take both of Ianto's hands into his. "Sweetheart, listen to me. By this time there are so many worlds… so many civilizations… so much out here… you could say you were from Timbuktu everyone would just think it was some planet they'd never heard of because nobody knows them all by name, there are just too many."

Ianto nodded. It made sense. The Human Empire spanned four galaxies and literally tens of thousands of worlds.

"One last thing." Jack pulled Jason's old translator out of his pocket.

Ianto blinked, clearly not understanding.

"Nobody has spoken English for a very long time, Sweetheart."

The younger man swallowed, stilling the shakiness of his hands as he reached out to take the translator from his partner. "I… I hadn't thought of that. But you…" Jack wasn't wearing a translator, not unless the wrist strap… it probably did serve as a translator, too. He suddenly wondered how the Doctor did it… he was sure the Time Lord must speak dozens, if not hundreds, of languages… but how could anybody speak them all?

"The Human Empire uses a 'universal' language to help people from different worlds communicate," Jack explained of his own ability to speak to the locals. "I grew up speaking it, just the same way you grew up speaking both Welsh and English."

Ianto swallowed… the translator hanging around his neck would be a dead give away that he didn't belong…

"There's a reason they still make translators, Yan." Jack caressed his hands, rubbing them gently with his thumbs, understanding the concerned look on his partner's face. "The worst anyone is going to think is that you grew up on some backwater planet and that you don't speak Sparsee well enough…"

"Sparsee?"

He shrugged. "I didn't name it. It's been in use for the better part of the last thousand years, but there are still plenty of outlying colonies whose inhabitants cling to their native languages. Kind of like those little villages out in the country," he explained with a grin. "It's why we still need translators. People are stubborn."

"Fantastic. I'm a gumby."

It was all Jack could to not to laugh at him. Instead he pulled his partner into another warm kiss. "But you're my gumby," he said in an affectionate tone.

"You're not helping."

Without missing a beat, Jack pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and offered to knot it, ala Monty Python's Mr. Gumby style.

For a man his size, Ianto threw a pretty good punch… it was a good thing Jack had been expecting it.

Within moments they were both laughing, rolling around on the floor, regretting very much that they had to go or they would miss their appointment all together…