Disclaimer: Don't own it, whatever it is (Torchwood, etc.)
Alright, it's time to say a big THANK YOU to all those who read, reviewed, alerted/faved *bows politely* as we are steadily approaching the end. It's not written yet, but I'm getting there. Also, my exams are about to start in a week or so and this story just HAS to be finished by then, because otherwise I'll focus on other things and unwillingly drop it... Henceforth, I'll probably finish and post it before the week is out ;)
May you enjoy your reading...
Two weeks after Jack Harkness, world-renowned pilot and flirt, landed in Cardiff, Wales, the bells of St. Andrews Church rang cheerfully. Despite the rainy, cloudy, foggy and, at times, windy past weeks, that Saturday the sun was shinning at full, not a cloud could be seen in the sky and even the birds were making the best of this rare gem of a day, chirping noisily all over the city, encouraging people to come out and enjoy the fresh warm air, for a change.
Similarly, a not so large, but horribly noisy crowd had made its way to the church's entrance in the sunny hours of the morning, taking over any last minute preparation not yet completed, or not completed in the best way possible.
"Stop acting like five-year-old brats! Emma, stop rearranging the flowers."
"But they're not standing straight!"
"That's because you've been fussing over them for the past hour! Suzie, what did I say about bringing police scanners at the wedding?"
"But they're about to catch the Brainbridge thief! The chase is on, as we speak!"
"I don't care! Turn off the radio and put those headphones away! And John, would you stop interrogating the priest about the "DaVinci Code"?"
"But he agrees with me!"
"That's because you're almost strangling him!" Gwen Cooper shrieked again, her voice echoing around the large hall.
"Is she always like this?" Ianto Jones mused from his seat, two rows farther down, while watching the dark-haired Welshwoman try to keep still the largest part of her team, which resembled a kindergarten class high on sugar, rather than one of the best-paid and most sought-after teams in the whole country, in terms of physics and innovations in the field of aerodynamics.
"More or less. But I tell, it's much more fun to watch from afar than be in the middle of the action and cause the most trouble." Jack Harkness turned to his date and grinned wolfishly when the young man chuckled.
"If you say so…"
"Although, I have to admit that this is the first time in recorded history I actually watch from afar… but it's a very interesting experience and I plan on repeating it… a lot, as long as you're interested in repeating it with me." The pilot gently nudged the tailor in the ribs and shifted closer.
"And Jack, stop harassing Ianto!" the loudest remark almost boomed around the church.
"Oi! He's my boyfriend! Harassment comes with the territory!" he shouted back and was rewarded with wolf-whistles and applauses, under the perplexed and somewhat frightened look of a powerless priest.
"Look at him! He's about to collapse from all that blushing!" Gwen refused to step down and let it go. Jack finally had the decency to look guilty, but made no attempt to slide further away, as Ianto's blood returned to his face again, for what must have been the tenth time that day… and it was barely eleven o'clock.
"When is this thing supposed to start again?" he managed to ask after recomposing himself… barely.
"Around noon."
"So why did we come here this early?"
"Restlessness." Jack explained. "Owen's been tearing down my nerves for a couple of days now and couldn't wait to arrive here, this morning, just in case Diane decided to come early too and finally get this over and done. So, being the best man that I am, I had to come down with Owen… and the kindergarten class too, since their attention span lasts about five minutes and they're better managed when together in the same room… and you had to come because you're my date and you also have the moral obligation to stop me from killing Owen if need be."
"How so?" Ianto asked with a confused smile.
"Well, after bailing me, Gwen and Owen out of jail, I figured that you do provide some exceptional services for your customers. So I was thinking that you should start an insurance policy: every person that comes to you for a suit also gets the certainty that they'll wear it… and since the best suits you make are fit for weddings and similar celebrations… voila!"
"You're not making any sense." Ianto sadly shook his head. Jack seemed to have a reply prepared, but was interrupted by his telephone. Checking the screen, he groaned.
"It's Owen. Be right back." He stood up and made his way through the rows towards the side door that led to the waiting chambers: one for the bride – still empty, in this case; one for the groom – currently still occupied. "What's up?" Jack bounded inside the room, only to meet the sight of a panicked Owen, on the verge of a heart-attack. "Owen?" he asked seriously and walked close enough to notice a large hole in his suit jacket. "What did you do?" his eyes nearly popped out of his head.
"I only moved about for a bit." The medic answered, but too quietly for that to be the truth.
"Owen!" Jack warned dangerously.
"Alright, I wanted to check out the window grates." He pointed with a weak hand at one of the large open windows, blocked by a set of heavy iron grates, sculpted in the form of ivy. The pilot moved over and inspected the heavy art piece… until his eyes met the sight of a large enough piece of black thread… about half a metre higher than normal, especially for a man of Owen's height. And that only meant one thing…
"You tried to climb the grates on the inside, didn't you?" he accused seriously.
"It was just a bit of exercise." The medic whined pitifully.
"You know, if you changed your mind and wanted to get out of here, you wouldn't have to do something like this. You know that everyone in that church will respect your decision, no matter what that is, right?"
"I didn't want to get out of here. It was really, just a bit of exercise… I'm getting married today… isn't there a rule saying that people are allowed to do stupid things around such big events?"
"Not really… but I'll let you off the hook this time." Jack grumbled. "What the hell are we going to do with your jacket?" he pointed lamely at the piece of cloth Owen had discarded over the back of a chair.
"No idea."
"Alright. Here." He said and took off his own jacket, throwing it to the groom. "You try that on while I go and see if Ianto can help." He quickly made his way out and back inside the church, missing the disbelieving look on his friend's face.
"Everything alright?" Ianto asked the moment Jack reached him, jacket-less and a bit out of breath.
"Not really." He answered with a grimace and crouched down, next to the tailor's legs. "You don't happen to have a needle and thread handy, do you?"
"What did you do to your jacket?" the young man glared at him.
"Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I'll have you know that it's not MY jacket… it's Owen's." At this bit of information, the Welshman let out a deep sigh and got up, also pulling Jack with him. Without a word, he led them out of the church, into the parking lot and down to his car. There, he opened the trunk and picked out a large suitcase.
"I should charge you for this." Ianto grumbled while they were quickly making their way back through the rows, trying not to attract Gwen's attention, as she might've turned the whole misdeed into a national alert.
"Only if I can pay you in kisses." The pilot winked back.
"I'm not making out with you in, behind or anywhere near a church."
"I wasn't talking about the church. I mean your place or mine… which, technically is Owen's, but since he and the Mrs. will be out, I was thinking that we could take advantage of that… you know, mess with Owen's bathroom shelf, wash whites and colours together… generally piss him off. Lord knows he deserves it." He detailed his evil plan and snuck his left hand into Ianto's right one.
"Let's take one thing at a time. First I'll fix his coat, then we'll watch the ceremony and we can think about currency later on." The tailor answered and squeezed Jack's hand, before letting go and entering the waiting room first.
"Thank God!" Owen exclaimed upon seeing them. They both looked up and promptly burst out in laughter: the medic was indeed wearing Jack's much too large and long jacket, making him look like an underfed alien or, worse, a teenager trying to fit his father's clothes for some school dance.
"Sorry." Ianto was the only one to apologize. "Let me have a look at that." He made use of the table and chair inside the room to place, open and almost empty the case, which contained, in an ungodly order, everything a tailor would need in order to make a whole new suit, not just repair a damaged one.
"Wow."
"I like to be prepared for anything… and, after getting to know you two, I was sort of expecting something like this to occur."
"Ianto, you wound me!" Jack let out a dramatic gasp.
"Nice." Even Owen whistled.
"Now, it won't be as perfect as a sewing machine's stitches, but it will do." Ianto had finished threading the needle and was now just standing next to his kit, staring at them expectantly. Two questioning looks were returned to him. "I usually like to work in silence. It helps me sew better and faster, so, if you don't mind…"
"Right. We'll just be in the church." The medic nodded and evacuated the room, a struggling pilot in tow. "I can't believe my luck… and I can't believe yours too… I'm thinking we both made a mistake by not visiting Wales until now."
"I've been thinking the same thing… for the past two weeks."
"What are going to do after the wedding? I mean, you have to go back to London…"
"I'll commute, if necessary. Weekdays in London and weekends in Cardiff. It's like getting the best out of two different things." Jack's smirk faltered as the two men entered the church, heading towards their lovely co-workers. Suddenly, Owen stopped and turned, eyes staring determinedly up at his friend.
"You won't be able to hold that forever… You'll be tired on Mondays for work and we both know how evil Gwen can be. So… I was thinking. You could get a job here… As an airline pilot or something… maybe work with Diane… might help you two clear out your differences… especially now. After all, I don't reckon that it'll be easy for you to have both your boyfriend and best friend miles away." Owen grumbled and shifted from one leg to the other.
"Aww, Owen!" Jack squealed, actually squealed, and gave the wiry man a bear of a hug. "I'll just be one phone call whenever you feel lonely. And besides, I'll be in London, England, not Kathmandu, Nepal. We'll see each other every weekend… you and your future Mrs… who, by the way, is a bit late." He made a show of bringing up his watch and pointing at the hour.
"You're such a girl, Harkness." Owen just growled, detached himself and walked to his group of so-called friends. And since they had all observed the exchange, they were now busy teasing them with catcalls. The next minutes passed in a blur of congratulations, best wishes and even farewells, which killed all the conversation and made the whole thing awkward. Finally, about fifteen minutes later, Ianto calmly walked inside the church, reached behind the medic and promptly helped him into his freshly stitched jacket. "You know, I think it looks better than before."
"Leave the judging to the professionals." The young tailor straightened himself as he stood next to his date.
"And not a moment too soon." The medic continued, eyes suddenly wide, as he stared at something behind all of them. Like a unitary organism, the whole group turned their heads and met the sight of the bride-to-be… except something wasn't right. Hastily, Owen darted between them and almost ran to Diane.
"Isn't she supposed to wear a white dress? Lace, frills, flowers… a white veil?" Ianto automatically asked while surveying the unusual couple.
"Something's wrong." Jack only managed to whisper back. A moment later, he gazed meaningfully at his date and, the tailor, having caught his stare, nodded his understanding.
"Why don't we all go and sit in the front?" he walked next to Gwen and spoke loud enough to get the entire group's attention from the couple behind them. He was rewarded with two glares and some confused stares, but they all complied eventually, leaving only Jack behind, who had stealthily snuck behind a large vase of flowers at the end of a row, close to the couple.
"Diane. You're here. For a moment there I thought you were going to stand me up." Owen joked, trying desperately to miss the obvious signs she was sending him. "Also, I know you love your vintage aviator's outfit, but hadn't we agreed that you'd wear a traditional dress?" he teased her and leaned forwards a bit, in order to catch her hands in his. She was a still as a statue… while he was trembling.
"Come with me, Owen." She was looking up at him, but he did not dare raise his eyes from their joined limbs.
"You could have told me about this and I would have brought my white coat. Make one of those funky weddings out of this." He went on.
"Come with me." She pleaded again.
"And to think I warned Jack against cosplaying at my wedding…" he laughed dryly.
"Owen!" she raised her voice and he finally looked up, confusion and pain written in big bold letters all over his face.
"I'll come with you wherever you want, after we go through with this."
"Owen, a man from the military visited me earlier this week and he offered me a once in a lifetime chance: to be a cargo pilot for mission soldiers. Just imagine it, you and me, doctor and pilot, saving the world." She laughed and broke away from his touch, only to card her finger in his hair.
"Dammit, Diane. You know how I feel about those thing, especially after what happened to Jack." He growled, his composure slipping away slowly.
"But Jack is Jack… and we're invincible." She whispered and he thought her insane, even if for just a moment.
"We're all humans… and we're all just as vulnerable and timeless." He pulled away from her touch. "I want to settle down. I want to get married and have kids. And I want to do it with you!" he shouted and heard as the sound echoed throughout the church. "I bought a practice here. I'm retiring from Torchwood. I did it so I could stay here, while you fly your planes and tourists." He confessed with a hollow voice.
"And we can do that later. Why do you want to tie us down now, when we're still so young, before we ascertain your freedom?"
"We live in England, in the twenty-first century, how much more freedom could you possibly wish for?" he demanded.
"This freedom has rules and labels. Do you really want that? I'm talking about a complete freedom, where you can do whatever you want!"
"And what if what I want is to nestle? To stay out of danger's way and enjoy this… my freedom's rules and labels? Forget it." He started shaking his head, desperation taking over his body, as his shoulders slumped and his fingers began untying the cravat around his neck. He turned around and started walking towards the altar, failing to notice Jack as he passed by him.
"If you won't come with me, I'll ask Thomas… and he will." She followed him shortly and called out, just as Jack was ready to get up from his hidden seat. Owen froze… then turned slowly.
"Four years… four years of relationship and all you can give me is an ultimatum regarding you on-and-off lover?" rage started consuming him, turning his breath ragged. "Alright, go if that's what you want. Obviously I'm not enough, so go ahead! See the world, be free… and let's see exactly what your freedom will do for you, when you'll be shot out of the sky above enemy territory in some God-forsaken country! Farewell, Diane." He bid her goodbye and turned away again, refusing to watch her tearstained face and her retreating back as she ran out of the church, wearing the ancient pilot outfit. Still, he couldn't walk too far and he soon found himself guided towards a wooden bench, by a strong hand. Jack.
Owen crouched into his seat and hid his face in his hands, refusing to hear or see anything… refusing to understand and accept what had just happened… just refusing. And all the while, Jack, good old Jack, just sat next to him silently. Not touching him, not comforting him… not even saying the annoying "I told you so" that was definitely glued to his tongue. No sounds were heard even from the front rows, where the team was still huddled, under the pitying gaze of a skinny priest… until a set of steps echoed off the stone walls, walking right up to him. The moment they stopped, somewhere in his immediate vicinity, a strong hand took hold of the back of his jacket and hauled him from the wooden bench, forcing him to open his teary eyes and glare at the intruder.
"Come on. Sitting here all day won't do you any good." Ianto Jones' pronounced Welsh vowels filled his ears.
"And what do you think I should do, almighty tailor?" He growled rudely. Jack was still sitting down, not making a move to help either of the two.
"Get drunk, forget, remember and move on." The younger man answered, then promptly started pulling him towards the exit, at an incredible pace. Jack finally sat up, but only to signal the team in front of the church and follow them outside.
Needless to say, by six o'clock, Owen Harper was passed out on the tailor's large sofa, thanks to the incredible amount of alcohol he had imbibed in record time, during the previous hours.
I'm sorry for all Diane fans reading this, but I found her a bit odd in the series, especially when flying away through the Rift. Might be an explanation for my mental depiction of her in this fic *whistles* Anyway, next chapter will be a slightly longer one, containing some epiphanies and a good dose of Tosh!
As usual, you know what the review link below is for ;)