Chapter Three

Ianto was putting the finishing touches on a batch of apple and pear danishes when Rhys entered the kitchen with a broad grin plastered across his face. "Your new best mate is back again. He's asking for you."

Ianto stifled a groan and concentrated on finishing the task at hand, casting a critical eye over his handiwork once he was done. It had been a week since he'd met the brash American man and his doctor friend, and Jack had returned to the bakery every day since, buying a cup of coffee along with various pastries and breadstuffs, and always showing great interest in everything on offer. Ianto wondered what the man was doing with all the baked goods since it didn't seem possible that he could be eating them all himself.

Jack had introduced himself to Rhys and Ianto's sister, Rhiannon, who helped out at the bakery part-time. Jack had become quite friendly with them, although he always asked to see Ianto. Rhiannon was engaged to a fellow Welshman, Johnny Davies, and was in the process of planning their wedding. Jack had shown an interest in that too, probably to his regret. As much as Ianto loved his sister, she could go on a bit, and she rarely failed to take advantage of a captive audience.

In fact, both Rhys and Rhiannon seemed quite taken with Jack, while Ianto wasn't sure what to make of him. The man was certainly striking – the epitome of tall, dark and handsome – with the sort of classic, timeless good looks that would be right at home on film, television or the stage. But his exuberance, overly friendly demeanour and heavy-handed charm were a bit off-putting. Ianto appreciated subtlety and understatement, and those were words that didn't seem to exist in Jack Harkness's vocabulary. Then there was the way that Jack looked at him. The man seemed harmless enough, but Jack's intent blue-eyed gaze and the way it seemed to always follow him was unsettling.

Jack had mentioned on his second visit that he worked as a freelance photographer. His curiosity piqued, Ianto had Googled Jack's name several nights earlier. The search had yielded a large number of results, including Jack's own website, a Wikipedia entry outlining his career, and even some basic biographical information. He'd discovered that Jack was indeed a well-regarded photographer, with a large body of work credited to his name, and his photographs were regularly shown at Cardiff's prestigious Hartman Gallery. He'd also learned that Jack had been a successful model before shifting his interests to behind the camera. There were numerous online images of a younger version of Jack, many with him dressed only in revealing underwear or skimpy swimming trunks and showing off his well-built body with its smooth skin and defined musculature.

As he'd continued browsing, he'd clicked through to a blog entry dedicated to Jack and had been unexpectedly confronted by far more of Jack than he'd ever wanted to see. It seemed that Jack had also done quite a bit of nude modelling, and there were a number of provocative images of a wholly naked Jack. One in particular that caught his eye – a centrefold spread for a gay men's magazine – had shown Jack sprawled out on a bed and grinning suggestively into the camera, everything on display, including a long, thick and very hard erection. Even for a strictly heterosexual man such as Ianto, there was no denying that the younger version of Jack had possessed a stunning and enviable physique. And, as far as he could tell from his observations of the man over the past week, that hadn't changed in the years since. Almost seven years had passed since Jack's modelling days, and the man looked, at least from what Ianto could see of the neck upwards, better than ever. Although if Jack continued to consume pastries at his current rate, he wasn't sure if that would be the case for much longer.

Disturbingly, that lewd image of Jack in all his shameless, naked glory seemed to be indelibly etched upon his mind. Having always been somewhat self-conscious about his body, he couldn't help wondering what it would be like to be so self-assured that taking one's kit off in front of a camera was all in a day's work. While it was relatively mild on the scale of questionable things people did for money, he couldn't imagine doing anything remotely like that himself.

Therefore, apart from being an excellent and much-needed regular customer, Jack Harkness was intriguing, despite Ianto wishing otherwise.

Arranging the danishes onto a tray, he wiped his hands and carried them through to the front of the shop, schooling his features into a mask of polite professionalism.

Jack was leaning casually against the counter, dressed in jeans, a dark blue button-up shirt and a dark lightweight jacket, looking confident and at ease, as usual. The man took care with his appearance, always looking well-groomed and polished. His thick mop of short, dark hair was arranged in its usual fashionably casual style, and his clothing leaned towards simple yet stylish, well-fitted and expensive. Being fastidious about his own grooming and appearance, Ianto appreciated someone who made an effort to look their best. It was probably the one and only thing he had in common with the other man.

Jack smiled widely as he spotted Ianto, his perfect teeth almost unnaturally white and complimented by a pair of deep dimples. It was an undeniably appealing smile on what was indisputably a very handsome face. Ianto suspected it was the sort of uninhibited smile which had been responsible for quite a bit of swooning in its time, men and women alike.

"There you are! Hey, Ianto. How's my favourite baker today?"

Ianto countered the man's exuberance with a polite, constrained smile. "Good morning, Jack. I'm well, thank you." He placed the tray on the top shelf of the nearest display cabinet. "How are you?"

"I'm doing great, thanks." Grinning, Jack peered down at the danishes. "Oh, what are those? They look delicious."

"Apple and pear danishes." Ianto couldn't help being both amused and a bit flattered by Jack's enthusiasm over the baked goods. "They're today's special."

"I'll take two, please." Jack straightened up and winked at him. "One for now. One for later. And I'll have an espresso as well." His intent blue eyes fixed upon Ianto's. "Actually, I'd like to buy you a cup of coffee too. I was hoping you'd join me."

Ianto felt his eyebrows shoot up to somewhere in the vicinity of his hairline. "Oh, um... sorry, I can't. I'm rather busy." He tried for an apologetic smile, although he suspected it turned out closer to a grimace. "No rest for the wicked."

Jack frowned. "Surely you can take a break for a few minutes?"

"No, not really." But Ianto hesitated as soon as he'd spoken, not wanting to offend the man and lose his patronage. There were no other customers at the moment, so he supposed he could take a few minutes off, enjoy a cup of coffee and perhaps learn a little more about Jack in the process. "Well... yes, I suppose." He cringed inwardly at his flustered stammering. "Eh... all right. Take a seat and I'll make our coffees."

"Perfect." Jack pulled out his wallet and handed over some money. Ianto rang up the sale of two cups of coffee and two danishes and gave Jack his change. He watched as Jack wandered over to one of the tables towards the front of the shop and sat down.

Puzzled by Jack's request, Ianto kept a surreptitious eye on the man as he prepared two espressos. He carried them over to the table, then put a danish on a plate with a napkin and bagged up a second one. Returning to the table, he sat down across from Jack, relieved to be off his feet for the first time that morning.

Jack gave him another broad, white smile and promptly picked up the danish. "I've got to try this. It looks amazing." He took a bite and chewed enthusiastically. "Mmm. And it tastes even better. You're a god among bakers, Ianto Jones."

Despite himself, Ianto felt a flush of heat warm his cheeks. "Uh... I'm glad you like it." He picked up his cup of coffee, breathed in the aroma and took an appreciative sip.

Jack chewed on another bite of danish and swallowed. "So, tell me something. Why Myfanwy's? It's an unusual name."

"It was my mum's name." Ianto tried to ignore the familiar ache in his chest. "She loved to bake. Bread, cakes, biscuits, all sorts of things. She died just after I turned sixteen. Cancer."

"I'm very sorry."

Jack's tone and expression were predictably sympathetic, but Ianto appreciated it nonetheless. He nodded. "Thanks."

"And your dad?"

Ianto shook his head. He tried not to think too much about his father, who had struggled with mental instability throughout most of his life and finally succumbed two years after losing his wife. "He's gone now too."

This time, Jack just nodded sadly. "I bet they'd be very proud. It's a beautiful gesture to name your bakery in honour of your mom."

Ianto took another sip of his coffee. "I like to think she'd be pleased."

"I'm sure she would be. You've created something special here, Ianto." Picking up his cup, Jack drank for a moment, his expression turning contemplative. "My parents are divorced. Dad lives in Canada. Mom remarried and now lives in Scotland."

"Did you grow up in America?" Relieved that the conversation was moving away from his deceased parents, Ianto couldn't quite curb his curiosity.

Jack chuckled. "The accent gave it away, huh? Actually, I was born in London. Then we lived here in Cardiff for a while. My brother, Gray, was born here. He's three years younger than me. We moved to the States and that's where I spent my teenage years. After I left home, I travelled for a while, then I settled back in London. Gray lives in Seattle now. He just got married. He's a lawyer." Jack paused with a mild shrug of his shoulders. "Guess we've ended up scattered about the globe. Anyway, so the accent kind of stuck."

Ianto nodded. "It must have been interesting. Living in so many different places."

"I suppose." Jack shrugged. "Although sometimes it sort of felt like nowhere was really home. But I've always liked Cardiff and Wales, and I'm settled here now. I travel for photography jobs now and then, but it's mostly just the occasional trip to London these days."

Thinking about what he'd read online and what Jack had just told him, the man certainly seemed to have led an interesting and varied life. Ianto couldn't help envying him a little. The most adventurous thing he'd ever done was living in Paris while he trained professionally and honed his baking skills. He almost began to tell Jack about his time there, but stopped himself. Jack was personable and surprisingly easy to talk to, but he wasn't sure if it was a good idea to encourage him too much. He didn't want Jack to expect a little sit-down tête-à-tête every time he visited the bakery.

Jack finished eating the danish and chatted about some of the places he'd visited on his travels, and Ianto drank his coffee and listened with interest.

"So, Ianto..." Jack wiped his fingers with the napkin, scrunching it up and dropping it onto the now empty plate. "I was thinking we could go out sometime. You know... dinner? A movie?"

Ianto almost choked on the remains of his coffee. He swallowed and cleared his throat, carefully putting the cup down. "Are you asking me out on a date?" Staring at Jack, he was unable to hide the incredulity from his voice.

In hindsight, he felt like an idiot. It had never occurred to him that Jack might be gay. Unbidden, that centrefold image of Jack in the buff jumped to the forefront of his mind. The man posing naked for a gay magazine should have been a pretty big bloody clue, but he wasn't used to thinking about other men in terms of their sexuality. He simply hadn't given Jack's sexual predilections a thought one way or the other. It didn't bother him that Jack was gay – he liked to think of himself as an open-minded sort of bloke, and it was the twenty-first century after all – but he wasn't used to being asked out by another bloke. In fact, it was a wholly unprecedented occurrence.

"Interested?" Jack looked at him with a hopeful expression.

Ianto swallowed again. He glanced around, despite the fact that the shop was empty and Rhys was occupied in the kitchen and out of sight. "Jack... I'm not gay."

"Neither am I." Jack held Ianto's gaze, his tone matter-of-fact.

Ianto frowned in confusion. "Oh... so, you're bisexual, then?"

A look of disdain passed over Jack's face. "What does that word even mean? That I'm fifty percent one way and fifty percent the other?" He gave a derisive huff. "I like who I like. Why is society so hell-bent on taking something as beautiful and natural as sexuality and trying to put it into these narrow-minded categories? It's beyond ludicrous. Worse, it's backward and demeaning."

Ianto felt his eyes widen in shock. Clearly he'd struck a nerve with what had seemed like an innocuous question.

Jack sighed and shook his head. His features cleared, and he gave Ianto a wry, apologetic smile. "Sorry, I didn't mean to get up on my soap box. I don't like labels, that's all." His expression turned earnest. "I like you, Ianto. I'd really like to get to know you better." A hint of a cheeky grin lifted the corners of his mouth. "I promise I'll show you a good time."

Ianto couldn't help wondering what constituted a good time in Jack's vernacular. He suspected that not a lot of clothing was involved. "Jack, it's very flattering. And... um... you're a very attractive man. But I don't like men. Not like that."

"Are you seeing someone else?" Jack was apparently undeterred.

Ianto shook his head. "No. There's no one. But that's hardly the point."

"Will you at least think about it?" Jack leaned in a little closer, his gaze still determined.

Ianto pushed his chair back, growing more uncomfortable by the moment. "No, I don't think so." He gave Jack an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry." Standing up, he quickly gathered up their empty cups and Jack's plate. "Thank you for the coffee, Jack. I really should get back to work now."

Forcing himself to ignore the look of disappointment on Jack's face, he retreated into the kitchen, wondering why some tiny part of him had almost wanted to say yes.