Summer 1994
"Morning, nain."
"Good morning, bach cariad," Gran said, getting a hug before Ianto sat down at the kitchen table. "Taid up yet?"
"Yep. Getting dressed."
"Good. I'll put his coffee on and get you a glass of fruit juice."
"Thanks, nain."
Ianto couldn't help a shy grin as his grandfather walked into the kitchen, buttoning his waistcoat, and kissed Ianto's grandmother before ruffling Ianto's hair.
"Thought we'd go on down to the old Electro after breakfast. Or is that a bit boring for young lads nowadays?" Granddad asked. "I'm sure it's all Pac-Man and Space Invaders and Mario Brothers these days."
Ianto shook his head. "Don't really fancy those games, me. Cinema sounds brilliant though. Did you used to go there when you were my age?"
"Well, not quite your age, but not much older. And I took your nain there on our first date. We saw an American comedy picture called Duck Soup."
"I saw that on telly, it was funny."
"On telly? Did you really?"
"Sure, taid… it was Marx Brothers, wasn't it?"
"Doesn't miss a trick, our lad," Gran smirked, setting a glass of juice in front of Ianto and two mugs of coffee on the kitchen table.
"What's it taste like, coffee?" Ianto asked. "I like how it smells."
Ianto's Gran smiled. "It's an acquired taste. You probably wouldn't care for it at all now, but you likely will when you're grown up."
"Maybe I'll prefer tea," Ianto said doubtfully.
"Maybe so," Granddad grinned.
"You lads should take some biscuits with you to the pictures," Gran said, taking a few out of the repurposed coffee tin. "That'll do you until you're back for lunch."
"Or until our lad gets hungry after he sleeps through half the programs," Granddad winked.
"I don't nap, taid," Ianto frowned.
"I know, lad. I reckon you sleep well if you're not wanting a kip by afternoon."
Ianto shrugged. "I guess I do. I have funny dreams sometimes. Like the one I had last night."
"Oh? What was that about?" Gran asked.
"Dreamed I was down by the docks in town and there was a man in a big coat, like an old-time soldier or pilot. I don't remember most of it. He said he caught aliens and sent them home, though, which I thought was cool. I wish I could do that when I grow up."
"Aliens?" Gran laughed, setting three plates of breakfast on the table. "That's down to you, Ifan, letting him watch those Twilight Zone videos before bedtime."
"The way technology is going, they might very well find aliens out there before he's our age," Granddad said.
"Remember that fellow who used to come into the shop occasionally? He had an old RAF coat."
"I remember that, the American chap, good-looking and well-aware of it. That coat of his took a beating. I've no idea what kind of work he did to get it in that condition."
"Thought he was a detective or in civil service or something. Probably got it all scuffed up running down robbers and murderers."
"And you watch too much Inspector Morse," Granddad chuckled. "I figured him for an actor, too flash for civil service."
"Maybe he was a secret agent like 007," Ianto said.
"Oh, could've been! He was quite mysterious. Don't imagine we'll ever know the truth."
"I could be a secret agent alien catcher," Ianto decided.
"Just make sure you do it in a smart suit," Granddad said sagely.