5

Ianto knew it was not going to work, watching the toffy faced pricks moving around the artworks as they talked shit about things they didn't understand. It was like they were speaking a foreign language he couldn't understand and that was a rarity given his ability to speak most. Lisa's photography was on display, was selling fast and he knew she would have been overjoyed but then again, dead artists do tend to sell more right?

Ianto sighed as he morosely looked for the date who had chosen this place to meet with total ignorance to what was on display and Ianto wondered why it had not been explained. Well, it was someone Rhiannon set up, was bound to be a halfwit with baby brain or something from her coffee group.

A woman was walking in a slow circle with her hands wringing and a stain on the hem of her skirt that endeared him to her for a moment, then she grabbed a cocktail sausage and crammed in on her gob like a three year old, had to be her right? Ianto sighed and started forward with a fake smile, "Hello there, are you Erin?"

"Ianto?" she said with relief, "God, all this black and white shit is doing me head in. Can we get a drink and find somewhere to sit?" she asked in a rush and Ianto winced at her crass mouth, then told himself to stop it as he had promised he would try harder to be receptive. She might just be nervous, right?

They found a seat and Ianto gave her the option of where to sit on it, then folded next to her as she looked appreciably at his long legs, "Rhiannon told me you were tall and a looker, she didn't say you were so …so …."

Ianto canted his head. Tall? Young? Polished?

"Uptight" she finished and he blinked, then watched her look around at the photos, "What do you think of this shite then? Look, black feet with painted toenails, the white feet with them…obviously meant to be an interracial couple or something. God, they ram it down our throats don't they?"

"They?"

"The blacks."

Ianto felt the air leave the room and he stared at her glass of wine like it might turn into poison, his stomach settling to a lump of lead. He wondered if there were hidden cameras and Ashton Kutcher was about to leap out for him to punch in the face or something.

"I mean…" she snorted, "They are taking our jobs, our single men… I can't get an apartment in the eastside because there are so many of them. It is like…an invasion of cockroaches."

Ianto blinked and took a deep breath, "Well. Interesting. You don't like blacks? What about when they have children? I mean … a cross breed. A black parent and a white parent?"

"Well they are still black then" she tossed her hair back as Ianto's eyes narrowed slightly, "any percentage of black blood makes them black. You know, I had a blood transfusion when I had my knee surgery and I was horrified thinking it might have been from a black, they told me it wasn't thank god."

Ianto stared at her like she was a bug "Actually …. They can't tell."

She blinked, "Really?"

"They don't mark the bags for that. No. Sorry, might have black blood in you. Does that mean you are black?" Ianto asked with wide eyes and enjoyed her blanch.

"Actually" Ianto rose gracefully to look down at her, "These are my wife's work. The black? That's her. I'm the white. Hated posing for them, even if it was just body parts, I did like cupping her tit in my hand though. So full of milk, our baby girl was almost born then…well. Lisa was killed two years ago. I have a son to her called Walter and he is definitely black. Given the love I have for her still, the piece of my heart she resides in … I think I must be black too. Given the fact you do not like 'those sorts' I think it best we call it an evening."

Ianto enjoyed walking away, spending another half hour walking around looking at pictures he hadn't seen in years, some of them when so young and foolish, so much hope. So much promise. The shot of her afro making him think of his little baby's fuzzy head and he found himself smiling softly as he let her go a tiny bit more. He didn't even see the bitch leave and knew he had some words for his sister next time they talked.

She really thought he needed that?

Gods.

Surely there was someone out there that did not see colour ... but a tiny heart needing filling?