Love at First Glance
Chapter Five
(A/N: This is based on the Hallmark Channel original film of the same name. I have added a few of my own scenes, events and dialogue, and I've omitted a few scenes that weren't really necessary to tell the story.)
Bundled up against a cold spring morning in Paris, Jack adjusted the height of his tripod and then locked down his camera. After framing his shot, he pulled his mobile from his coat pocket on a whim and sent a text.
Hello to the man on the train eating cake. Some photos from Paris
Ianto heard the phone beep and dashed into the living room to retrieve it and then rushed back into his bedroom to throw himself belly down onto his bed. He couldn't wipe the happy grin off his face as he read first the message and then scrolled through the pictures that Jack had included.
I heard you jumped out of a plane
Refusing to acknowledge the fact that his fingers were trembling ever-so-slightly, Ianto texted back, and got the cutest dog I've ever seen.
Life's an adventure. You never know where it will lead you
Ianto's grin spread from ear to ear. I'm discovering that.
After reading Jack's final text, until next time… Ianto rolled over onto his back and clutched the phone to his chest, enjoying the wonderful feeling of warmth and happiness that spread through him. Setting the phone on the night table, he climbed beneath the duvet and turned off the lamp.
"Goodnight, Boyfriend."
The music began to play, and Ianto was pulled into Jack's arms, and as the strains of the tango filled the air, he allowed himself to be swept up in the magic of the moment as they danced, twirling and swaying their way across the floor. Jack was a strong lead and through it all, the only time they broke eye contact was when Jack dipped him low to the ground.
Ianto sat bolt upright in bed, breathing hard. He looked down at Boyfriend, who'd taken advantage of his master being asleep to climb up onto the foot of his bed. and grinned like a madman. "Butterflies!" he whispered with a smile that lit up the room. "I've found my butterflies!"
Holding his program, Ianto began strolling through the art gallery, glancing here and there, smiling proudly when he saw the large sign proclaiming he was about to see the new works of Jack Harkness. He paused in front of a photograph just as the curator walked up to him.
"I see you're interested in Jack's photography."
"Yes, I am."
"He's a very talented young man," and he indicated the picture they were standing. "That's taken from a series in Africa."
Ianto could see that it was clearly a companion piece to the picture he'd seen on Jack's mobile where he'd been knelt beside the lion. The photo he was looking at now showed that same lion – he could tell by the scar on the beast's nose – and although it was printed in black and white, the sun setting in the background made the big cat's mane glow.
"He travels the globe and always comes back with the most wonderful images."
Ianto nodded in silent agreement.
They walked a few steps further and stopped before a photo printed in vivid colour showing a family of elephants silhouetted against the blazing colours of the sun setting on the horizon. It was a truly breath-taking image. "This was taken while he was driving through the Masai National Reserve."
They continued walking, looking at the photographs, the curator commenting here and there, until they came across a photo showing a heart carved into a tree trunk
"He took this in Paris!" Ianto exclaimed.
"You're familiar with this photograph?"
Ianto beamed at the man. "Yes! A friend of Jack's showed this to me recently."
The curator nodded. "It's one of my favourites. It's entitled 'Hopeful'. Would you like to see some new works from Jack?"
"Oh, yes!" Ianto could sense excitement building in his heart. "Please!"
"Come this way." The man led Ianto around a corner, into an alcove, and stopped in front of a black and white photograph of a young man, sitting alone on a subway car, holding a plastic cake box, and looking rather sad.
Ianto felt his jaw drop.
"This one's called 'Man with Cake'."
Feeling a blush starting up his cheeks, Ianto turned to the man with a delighted grin and then turned back to stare at himself.
"Perhaps it should be called 'Hopeful'," the curator offered, pretending not to notice that Ianto's eyes were glistening with tears
Ianto Jones whooped with abandon as he released his hold around the waist of the man in front of him and threw his arms out behind him, feeling the drag of the wind pull at them. He'd never ridden on the back of motorcycle before and the sensation was exhilarating, much like when he'd gone skydiving. The sexy thrum of the powerful machine rolled through his body, bringing a feeling of arousal with it.
They arrived at a spot where they could pull over, a lovely but barren place overlooking the Bay. After dismounting and removing their helmets the two men sat down to watch the sun as it dropped slowly toward the horizon.
"Well, to answer your question," Franklin shrugged, "I spent thirty-five years working away in corporate London and when I retired, I discovered my passion. I was up in Glasgow on a sightseeing holiday, I'd never been to Scotland, but one of the guys I'd worked with for almost twenty years never stopped singing its praises. Born and bred in the Highlands he was, and damned proud of it. One day, I was driving along and passed by a house with a motorbike sitting out front with a big FOR SALE sign on the windscreen. My little voice suddenly yelled at me to stop and so on a whim, I did."
He grinned at Ianto. "I'd learned as a child to never ignore that little voice in my head; the few times I did were disastrous. In fact, it was because of that voice that I had the courage at age thirteen to walk over to the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen and ask her if she'd like to sit with me at lunch. She said yes, and we were together for almost twenty-three years in all. Jack is proof of how important that voice can be."
Ianto smiled and leaned back on his hands, feeling the warmth of the sun on his face.
"The owner of the bike let me take it for a quick spin and I was absolutely hooked. I got off to a slightly rough start, but he was right there, showing me what I was doing wrong and how to correct it. I bought the thing right on the spot, drove back to my hotel in Glasgow and he met me there the very next morning. His wife followed him, thanked me profusely, saying 'you are saving my husband's life, cos if he ever rode that horrid beastie again, I'd have killed him with me bare hands'. And you know what?"
"No, what?"
"I believed her. She was just a tiny thing, about five-foot-nothing, might have weighed a hundred pounds soaking wet, but there was a fire in her eyes that made her look like a giant."
Ianto laughed, picturing this fierce wee Scotswoman, ruling her domain with an iron fist inside a velvet glove.
"Anyway, I discovered that there was nothing in the world like getting on that wonderful machine and going off for days, exploring the back roads and hidden treasures all over the UK." Franklin reached out and touched Ianto's arm. "And I found out that it was a fantastic way to bond with my son. Jack loves adventure, I love adventure, so on the weekends we take our bikes out and we ride." He made a wide, sweeping gesture, taking in everything that was before them. "We ride for hours. It's a great way for us to catch up."
Weighing his words before he spoke, Ianto looked at Franklin. Finally, he asked, "Do you regret the years you missed watching him grow up?"
Franklin looked out over the vista, seeing the sun just ready to touch the horizon, and he sighed deeply, the exhalation coming from his soul. "Once, when Jack was about twenty and I'd been absent for years, I called him. I was sick, I had a fever, some kind of flu, and I needed someone to come over and take care of me."
Feeling very sorry for himself, Franklin Harkness lay on his sofa, curled under the duvet he'd been dragging around the house with him for two days. He was miserable, his body ached, his nose was completely stuffed up, except for when he sneezed and then it ran like a faucet; he knew he needed a shower but he didn't really care, and he really, really wanted a cup of hot, sweet tea but he just didn't have the ambition necessary to get up and go through the whole tea-brewing process.
A sneezing fit struck just as the doorbell rang, and Franklin stuffed a handful of tissues to his nose as he forced himself to get up and stagger over to open the door, leaving the duvet on the floor behind him.
Jack took one look at the man before him and shook his head. "Well, you don't look so good." In response, Franklin sneezed three times into his wad of tissues as he stepped back so his son could enter.
It didn't take long at all before Franklin found himself in clean T-shirt and sleep pants, with a cool cloth on his forehead, and empty wastepaper basket and a full box of tissues within easy reach. He looked up to see Jack coming in from the kitchen bearing a tray, which he set down on the coffee table in front of his dad. There was the cup of tea he'd been craving as well as a bowl of hot soup and some crackers.
Franklin looked over at Ianto, his face an open book. "That was the night it all finally made sense," he confessed.
Jack helped his dad sit up and then handed him the mug of tea, sweetened with honey just the way he remembered his dad drinking when he was a kid. "Here you go."
"That was the moment I knew that he had real faith in our future together." Franklin's eyes filled with tears and when he spoke again, his voice was gruff with emotion. "That simple act of kindness… it really touched me. It touched me immeasurably." He blinked rapidly for a moment and cleared his throat.
"And so to answer your question, no. No regrets, but lessons learned," he nodded wisely.
Together, Franklin and Ianto watched the sun sink into the sea, each man lost his own thoughts, a comfortable silence between them.
As they pulled up in front of Ianto's flat, they saw Daffyd walking towards the entrance, his attention fully on his phone. Something about the subtle way Ianto stiffened just the littlest bit told Franklin that this man had hurt Ianto in some way, and so he made a show of their arrival by revving his engine several times until finally Daffyd looked up from his mobile.
Killing the engine and flipping the kickstand, Franklin took off his helmet before turning and giving Ianto a hand dismounting the back of the bike. "You are a natural!" he announced, watching Daffyd out of the corner of his eye as Ianto pulled off his helmet.
"Yeah, that was fun!" Ianto exclaimed as he took off his goggles and tucked him inside the helmet.
Intrigued Daffyd drew closer to the couple and heard the older man say,
"I had a great time with you, Ianto; it was a great ride."
Ianto's eyes danced as he grinned from ear to ear. "Yeah, it was!"
Franklin accepted the helmet. "Next weekend?"
Daffyd stepped even closer, crossing his arms across his chest, straining to hear Ianto's answer; neither man paid him any attention.
"It's a date!"
Daffyd's eyes flew open as he watched Ianto lean forward into the other man's arms, hugging him tightly before kissing Franklin's cheek. "Night."
Confused and concerned, Daffyd tried glaring at Franklin but the man continued to ignore him, and so he turned to Ianto as he walked past him.
"Really? A motorcycle?" Daffyd asked scathingly but his former boyfriend just winked at him as he headed for the door. Turning back to the other man, Daffyd watched him slide the goggles down over his eyes and then give Daffyd a jaunty salute, which Daffyd returned somewhat weakly. As the motorcycle roared away, he was left standing on the sidewalk alone and feeling foolish, his mind reeling from the idea of Ianto and an older man. 'The guy's at least twice Ianto's age!' he thought indignantly. 'I mean, a motorcycle!'
Upstairs, Ianto set a mug of coffee down on the table next to him and pulled out all the notes he'd made for Jack's story. He was just cuing up Franklin's interview on the digital recorder when the buzzer sounded for his door. Not expecting any visitors and knowing that Rhys was out of town on a stag-do with his mates, Ianto frowned as he went to the door, opening it to find Daffyd of all people standing there with a long-stemmed red rose in his hands and an apologetic look on his face.
Against his better judgement – 'I have got to start paying better attention to my little voice' – Ianto accepted not only the rose but Daffyd's invitation to dinner the following evening. Without Rhys there to cook dinner, he'd been planning on making sandwiches or ordering pizza – he couldn't decide which – to get him through the weekend, but then decided that a nice dinner of sushi was too good to resist.
Saturday night came quickly and dressed in a nice jumper and trousers, Ianto pocketed his keys, wallet and mobile as he went out the door. It was a short walk to the Japanese restaurant he frequented, and he was lucky enough to get two seats at the counter. It was his favourite place to sit in a sushi house; he loved watching how swiftly and easily the chefs manipulated the sticky rice and the carefully cut fish.
He waited patiently, smiling at the hostess who paused for a moment to chat, thanking the waitress for the ice water, chatting with the chef about which fish he had picked up at the market just that morning, all the while checking his watch and wondering if Daffyd had changed his mind.
Finally, nearly fifteen minutes late, Daffyd walked through the door and the hostess quickly sat him, making it clear without saying a word exactly what she thought of a man who kept someone as lovely as Ianto waiting.
The moment Ianto saw his old boyfriend he cocked his head as though studying something unseen and then he brushed his hand over his stomach. 'Nope, no butterflies, not a single one.'
Perching awkwardly on the high-backed stool next to Ianto, Daffyd looked around, taking in the sparse but elegant décor. He was obviously a little uncomfortable, given the way he squirmed and cleared his throat several times. He'd never been in a Japanese restaurant before, let alone sat at the counter in front of the glass case full of fish. It was a bit unnerving. 'What kind of barbarian decided that fish should be eaten raw?' and he gave a tiny shudder from the sheer horror of it all.
"Don't you just love this place?" Ianto smiled at the chef, letting him know that they were ready to be served.
"Erm…" Daffyd's discomfort level grew as the chef slid a plate across the top of the glass case, which Ianto accepted with a brief bow of thanks.
Daffyd looked at it with suspicion. "What's this?"
"Uni or sea urchin and it is so tender," Ianto picked up his chopsticks and lifted one piece, intending to feed it to Daffyd.
"We didn't order this, why did he give us this?" Daffyd leaned backwards, away from the sushi that Ianto was trying to put in his mouth. "Uhh… no…" and he shook his head.
"Well, actually I did, before you got here. I asked for an omakase meal, which means 'I'll leave it up to you' so the chef will decide for us what he thinks is the best he has and what he thinks we'll like," Ianto explained. "Traditionally, the chef will present us with a series of plates, beginning with the lightest fare and proceeding to the heaviest dishes." Ianto put the rejected sushi in his mouth and chewed, allowing the luscious flavour of the uni to wash over his tongue.
He continued. "Customers ordering omakase-style expect the chef to be innovative and surprising in the selection of dishes, and many times, the meal can be likened to an artistic performance by the chef." He ate the second piece of uni and then cleansed his palate with a bit of the pickled ginger.
Daffyd couldn't get the disapproving frown off his face as he watched Ianto eat, and he surreptitiously held his mobile under the counter and Googled sea urchin. When he discovered that uni was actually the sea urchin's gonads he actually felt nauseous and grabbed for his glass of water, using it to wash the bile back down.
"What happened to your love of butternut ravioli?" he asked, kind of surprised by the slightly bitter tone of his voice.
Ianto took the time to accept the next plate from the chef and then use his chopsticks to grasp a piece of ebi. "Here, you'll probably like this one, it's cooked sweet shrimp."
With a shake of his head and a downward turn of his lips, Daffyd silently refused Ianto's offering.
Ianto shrugged and popped the delicious morsel into his mouth, holding on to the shrimp's tail shell at the last moment. He could see that Daffyd was waiting for an answer to his question, so he swallowed.
"Well, like you," he said, picking up the second shrimp and dipping it ever-so-gently in the soy sauce. "I had my own 'road to Damascus' moment."
Daffyd's eyebrows shot up towards his hairline, but he said nothing, settling for a rather condescending smile that said, 'of course you did, but really, you're just copying what I said that night'.
The chef set a new plate on top of the glass case and slid it toward Ianto. This time he'd prepared unagi, grilled freshwater eel with a bit of light, secret-recipe teriyaki glaze spread across the top. Ianto didn't even bother offering any of it to Daffyd.
Feeling a bit desperate to fill the silence, Daffyd searched his mind for something to say. "Say, did I tell you… remember Nigel Patrick? The family car guy who bought the red convertible?" He waited for Ianto to nod and then went on. "Well, he came in a couple of days ago and returned the sports car. He said, 'I don't know what I was thinking; I really am just a blue sedan kind of guy'." Daffyd shook his head as if he'd known it all along.
Ianto caught the chef's eye and bowed, acknowledging the wonderful choices he'd made so far. In return, the elderly sushi maker presented him with a fresh plate, this one containing a true delicacy. "Daffyd, look!" Ianto was excited and he smiled his gratitude to the chef, giving as low a bow as he could given that he was sitting down.
Daffyd rolled his eyes. As far as he was concerned, raw fish was only good for bait and even then, he wasn't going to touch it. The fact that Ianto was enjoying it so much was quite disturbing.
"He's gifted us with o-toro!" Ianto's taste buds with dancing with anticipation. "That's the fattiest, most succulent part of the tuna's belly. Daffyd, this is a true honour! You have to try this. It's almost like eating butter it's so tender."
Daffyd smiled painfully and shook his head. "You enjoy it."
"Your loss," Ianto set down his chopsticks and used his fingers to pick up the sushi, turning it over and just barely brushing part of the fish's surface across the soy sauce before placing it fish-side-down in his mouth. As the fatty o-toro began to melt on his tongue, Ianto closed his eyes and savoured the bliss.
Slightly unnerved by the erotic way Ianto was eating his raw fish, it took Daffyd a moment to remember what he'd been talking about. "Erm… Anyway, you can't imagine the amount of paper… work…" he phased out watching Ianto eat the second piece of tuna. Giving himself a physical shake back to reality, he snorted and said, "Let me tell you, we're talking loads and loads of forms…"
Ianto wasn't listening; he could hear the sound of Daffyd's voice, but not the words themselves. His attention had been caught by a couple sitting at one of teppanyaki tables and in his mind's eye, it was him and Jack sitting there, holding hands, bodies touching, cooking on the hot grill and feeding each other morsels of food.
"…first time I've ever had to process a return…"
The fantasy faded and Ianto gradually became aware that Daffyd was still talking. "Although there was this one time I did have… Now what was his name?" Daffyd looked off into the distance and then snapped his fingers. "Garfield, I'm pretty sure that was his name, so…"
"Daffyd," Ianto interrupted what was sure to be another long boring story; he'd spent five years listening to them and he knew the warning signs when one was about to begin.
"Yeah?" The man plastered his brightest smile on his face, the one normally reserved for the high-end car buyer in his showroom.
"I used to have dreams about us," Ianto told him as he rested his chopsticks on the little ceramic stand shaped like a carp. "I had so many ideas of what our future would be like, where we'd live, what our house would look like, sometimes we'd adopt children, sometimes not. I'd think about where we'd holiday and what we'd do when we retired, and what it would be like when we were old." He shrugged expressively. "But knowing what I know now, and knowing who I am now, I just…"
Daffyd's eyes narrowed; he didn't like where things were going. Ianto was supposed to see that they should be together after all, that they'd made a mistake in breaking up and that it was for Ianto's own good that he come back to the man who had invested five years in a relationship with him. He planned to forget about the month or so they were separated; couples took time-outs all the time, and then they got back together again as though nothing had ever happened.
Ianto shook his head, "I just don't know… I just cannot figure out what that future would be like now."
"Wha… I mean, is it…" Daffyd stumbled through his words, disbelief evident. "Is it over between us?"
"Yes." Ianto's answer was short, sweet and definitely straight to the point.
Misery caked Daffyd's face and he appeared to physically shrink in upon himself. "I suppose you're gonna want me to move out, to leave the building, to…"
"No!" Ianto quickly interrupted as he reached out and patted Daffyd's hand. "It's okay for you to stay right where you are." He could tell by the blank look in the other man's eyes that the true significance of those last few words had gone right over his head.