Disclaimer: Whatever it is (Torchwood, etc) I don't own it!
And the first chapter is posted at the same time because I'm not the type of evil author to just leave the decor without my and your beloved characters... yet *mwahaha*
But moving on... Enjoy!
"Welcome to Wales." The flight attendant smiled at the passing people who had just arrived on flight 457 coming from London.
"Thank you, beautiful." Out of the 200 people, the only one who had actually stopped to pay attention was a devilishly handsome man with an American accent, short brown hair, deep blue eyes and a pair of dimples that could bring a smile to a dead man's face. He wore a long coat bearing RAF markings and was currently holding onto a large bag. He winked at her and resumed his way, but not before noticing the blush that had exploded in her cheeks. "Owen!" he waved a hand once he reached the airport waiting hall, having noticed a wiry man trying to make his way through the crowd and reach him.
"Here you are." The man stopped and drew a deep breath of air after escaping the ambush. "Didn't think you'd make it."
"Are you kidding? I'd have flown in from Antarctica just to witness this miracle. Owen Harper getting married! Wouldn't have missed it for anything." He laughed and good-naturedly hit the man over his shoulders, making him stagger.
"Come on, I've got a taxi waiting outside." Owen just grumbled and led his friend out the airport and towards the parking lot. Several minutes later, the bag was safely tucked in the car and the two old mates were on their way to the city. The American studied his companion in silence for a minute before announcing loudly:
"You look like crap."
"Thanks." Owen's eyes glared at him from above dark circles and wrinkled skin. True, the doctor had always looked several years older than his actual age and more or less like a skeleton… but the man he now stared at was far worse.
"Are you sure about this?"
"Yes. I love her and I've been trying to get her to do this for years now. I'm glad she finally accepted."
"But what if she's not the one?"
"Just like Katie wasn't?"
"Owen, I didn't fly down here to have a fight with you. I came here because I expected to see you happy, fulfilled, ecstatic, damn it! But this, this is even worse than your usual self." The American argued.
"I'm not changing my mind." He replied with one last glare and turned to look out the window at the awaking city. "We'll leave your stuff at the hotel and then I'm taking you for a tour and a place to get you a suit."
"A suit?"
"I'm not having my best man cosplaying at my wedding, so don't even think about it! Besides, the guy made me a suit from scratch in no time and we are working within a timeframe here. Just don't hit on him too much." The doctor muttered under his breath.
"Why? Is he that hot?"
"Time to open up!" Ianto Jones announced loudly as he unlocked and pulled away the wide doors of the café. A moment later a fair-haired man appeared, and the two began bringing out the chairs and tables, neatly spreading them in front of the shop. After only five minutes, the task was done and a lovely scent filled the street, already attracting the first set of customers.
"Ah, good morning Mr. and Mrs. Thompson! Will you be having your usual?" a cheerful voice was heard as Rhiannon Davies (nee Jones) bounded out of the shop carrying a tray filled with small menus.
Having finished his chorus, Ianto left his sister in charge of the caffeine-related part and, passing through a small hallway and a set of heavy curtains, he entered his territory, walking towards the tailor shop's door in order to unlock it and turn the schedule sign.
"Annie, are all the needles accounted for?" He asked while checking some material samples at the counter. A blonde head popped through the curtains that hid the entrance to the dressing rooms.
"Yes, sir." The girl smiled and disappeared once more.
"Andy!" He raised his voice and waited for the fair-haired man to make himself present.
"What's up?"
"When are the new materials arriving?"
"Today at ten o'clock." He answered calmly and grinned. "I warned Mr. Fort that he won't receive any coffee for a week, if our order is late today."
"Good thinking." A small smile appeared on the stoic young man's face and that made Andy practically beam. "Annie, please bring out Dr. Harper's suit."
"Yes, sir." Came the prompt answer followed by some rustle noises.
As if on queue, said man walked in front of the shop and entered, for the first time accompanied. And not by the bride apparently, but the best man, perhaps? Either that, or the doctor was one surprising fellow. Ianto Jones merely raised an eyebrow.
"Good morning." He greeted both men.
"Morning, mate." Owen answered. "I'm here for the fitting and I've also brought…" he turned to Jack, but stopped short when he noticed the American's widened eyes and open mouth. "Erm, my best man. He's going to need a suit as well."
"Alright." The Welshman nodded and both of them turned expectantly towards the third party, who apparently had yet to wake up from a major day-dream. After a long moment of silence, Owen coughed… loudly. "Sir?"
"Oh, red is so your colour!" was the first thing that Jack managed to articulate since entering the shop. Eyes never leaving the tailor's, he stepped closer to the counter that separated him from the man in red shirt, immaculate suit and black tie. "Jack. Jack Harkness, but please, just Jack." He extended a hand and grabbed onto the tailor's unexpectedly. Ianto's hand was frozen cold, while Jack's could have probably kindled a bonfire.
"Jones, Ianto Jones. Nice to meet you." He spoke carefully, clearly uneasy and unaccustomed to such a situation, while trying to free his fingers.
"For heaven's sake, Jack, don't molest my tailor!" Owen complained loudly.
"If you will just follow me to the dressing room." He finally got his hand back to himself, signalled the two men to follow him behind the counter and the heavy curtains, into a large room filled with mirrors and stools. Even more curtains betrayed the existence of three other separate cabins. A pretty blonde girl waited for them, holding a black suit, a white shirt and a grey cravat. She smiled brightly and blushed when the American winked at her.
"I'll take that." Owen grabbed the clothes and disappeared, clearly already familiarised with the shop's geography. Ianto raised his hands expectantly and Jack stared blankly at him.
"If I may have your coat. I need to be able to take your measures for the suit." Despite the neutral tone and beyond mere professional manner of conduct, those words were more than enough incentive for Jack's mind to drown in gutter.
"Oh, you can take much more than just my coat! In fact, I'm asking you to." He got off the large blue thing off his shoulders in less than a second, deposited it in the tailor's arms and went on to unbutton his shirt.
"That's not necessary, I assure you." The young man promptly stopped the American before getting himself a strip show.
"But wouldn't it be better to take my measures with as few layers on as possible? You know, to make sure that suit will fit me perfectly?" he asked with a leer.
"No, it wouldn't. Trust me. That's why I'm a tailor and not a secret agent fighting aliens." He looked up at Jack, raised the man's arms and prepared his metre.
"Then could you perhaps lose the shirt?" Jack whispered and grinned dangerously as Ianto's baby blue eyes glared at him and his face turned a very interesting shade of red… quite similar to the one of his shirt's.
"Excuse me?" He was now bordering either panic or anger, and Jack suddenly regretted his words.
"Don't mind me, please. I'm just a terrible flirt and sometimes things like that just fly out of my mouth. I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sorry."
"Just don't let it happen again." Ianto managed to speak after a short while, once he had recomposed himself. He held Jack's arms up again and proceeded in taking his measures quickly, precisely and silently. The moment he was finished, Owen came out of the private cabin. Despite the amazing suit, he still looked like a skeleton.
"Well?" The groom-to-be inquired, glancing at his surprisingly quiet friend.
"I'll be right back, I need to bring out the samples for Mr. Harkness' suit."
"No need. Make it the same as mine, but with a simple black cravat." Owen explained and the young tailor nodded. Signalling the man to stand up on the stool in the middle of the room, Ianto began inspecting his work.
"Are the trousers long enough? Do you feel their too tight?"
"Nope." He answered and glanced at Jack once more. But the American was solemnly gazing at the tailor… and his arse. Owen rolled his eyes and kept answering the questions sent his way. Ten minutes later, he stepped off the stool, pleased by the fact that this tailor, despite the age, had got everything perfect from the first attempt. "What smells that good?" he asked the moment he returned from the private cabin for the last time.
"Coffee. Around the corner there is a small coffee shop. And yes, customers of the tailor shop do get bonuses." Ianto explained and pointed the two men in the correct direction.
"So when should we return?"
"Your suit should be ready by the day after tomorrow, but Mr. Harkness will have to come back for a couple of fittings at least, the first one around the same time."
"The day after tomorrow it is then. Cheers mate." Owen exited the shop.
"See you around gorgeous." Jack huskily spoke and, after letting his eyes roam over the Welshman once more, followed his friend.
Behind them, Ianto Jones allowed his usual mask to morph into a lost look for a moment, then returned to his stoic self and tried to pay no more heed to Jack Harkness.
Around the corner, however, a certain blue-eyed American was, quite on the contrary, paying a lot of heed to the young tailor, over an amazing cup of coffee.
"Here you go, darling." A tall dark-haired woman with a lovely smile walked out of the small café, with a tray bearing two cups of the heavenly-smelling brew. She deposited them of the table and giggled as the two men dug in, despite the liquid's high temperature.
"Wow!" Jack was the one to exclaim his thanks. "I can foresee a lot of trips to Cardiff in the near future." Owen just sent him a dirty look. "Good-looking men and orgasmic coffee? So far even London can't beat that. This is amazing!" He looked up at the woman who resembled more a kindergarten teacher than a waitress.
"All the praises need to go to my brother. Around the corner, just the way you came and into the tailor shop." Jack's mouth fell open for the second time that morning… and it wasn't even nine yet.
"You mean… Mr. Jones…"
"Oh, you met Ianto?" she seemed delighted.
"He's making a couple of suits for us." Owen explained.
"You don't sound from around here, but you've sure made a good choice. I think he's the best tailor in the entire city, but he's too modest to even consider something like that. Oh, I'm so glad he came back from London and started these two shops. I'd have never managed all this on my own." She was her brother's polar opposite: cheerful, talkative and very, very giggly. Had it not been for the button nose, one would've found it impossible to believe the two were related at all. "Oh, but I'm ranting away. I'll just be inside if you need me." She bestowed upon them another blinding smile and disappeared.
"Well, that was interesting. I had the feeling the shops were tied somehow. And Jack, don't even think about it." The doctor sternly waved a finger at his friend.
"I don't know what you mean!"
"Good and fast tailors are impossible to be found and I really don't want my pants to fall down during the ceremony. Or yours!"
"God, you're no fun! This whole thing is destroying you." The American retorted.
"Leave it!"
"Can't you see? You're totally changed. I don't even recognize you anymore. Even your sarcasm has lost its usual wit."
"I love her, Jack. I've been a wreck since Katie died and Diane helped me through a lot. I've been trying to get her to marry me for too long to let this chance pass."
"Even if it's going to kill you?"
"Don't make such a drama out of everything. It's going to be fine."
"But that's just it! Love is supposed to be great, intoxicating, addictive and mad. Love is supposed to be food for the soul; it's supposed to make you want to fly!"
"It's a chemical reaction, you idiot, not schizophrenia or a magic pill!"
"Yeah, but it's a great reaction! It's the kind of thing that makes you want to be with someone even if they're eighty, bald and ill… or worse, even if you're eighty, bald and ill." By now, Jack was making wide gestures and speaking passionately, attracting not necessarily desired attention. "How long do you think Diane is going to stay by your side? Would she stay if you were eighty, bald and ill?"
"But I'm not!" Owen nearly bit his words.
"But one day you will be…"
"Right, and what makes you such an expert? Two utterly failed relationships and a lifetime of adoration for a man who barely sees you?" the doctor exploded, but immediately regretted his words. Jack stared down at his empty cup. "Look, I don't want to fight you. You're my best mate, despite your terrible character and huge ego."
"Would you like a hug?" Jack asked with a sigh, but an honest smile on his lips.
"No! But thanks for offering. Um, excuse me, Miss!" he raised his voice and an arm, eyes searching for the dark-haired woman.
"Anything else I can get for you?" she appeared again.
"Just tell us how much we owe you." The doctor returned her smile for the first time, while Jack already had his wallet ready.
"Are you Dr. Harper and Mr. Harkness?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Then it's on the house." She grinned at their puzzled expressions. "Ianto said so, and if you've got any problem with that, take it up to him."
Thank you for your time! See you next chapter!
Oh and please review!