badly_knitted (badly_knitted) wrote,

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Fic: Ianto’s Blue Christmas – Part 2-2

Title: Ianto’s Blue Christmas – Part 2-2

Author: badly_knitted

Word Count: 2383

Rating: PG

Characters: Ianto, Jack, Rhiannon. Johnny, Mica, David, OC

Warnings: Jack being Jack, graphic descriptions of hospital food ;)

Written For: jo02’s prompt ‘Ianto has to spend Christmas day in hospital with a work-related injury. What happens when visitors who don't know about each other converge on the sick?’ at torchwood_fest.

Summary: Christmas isn’t going at all as Ianto had planned, but it that really such a terrible thing?

Beta: kul_breez

Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters. They belong to the BBC.

A/N: Had to divide this in two for posting to LJ.

Part 1

By the time Ianto was basking in his traditional post-turkey stupor, Johnny, Mica and David had arrived, laden with presents, Christmas crackers, and board games.

“Happy Christmas, Uncle Ianto!” Mica cried, scrambling onto the bed to hug him.

“Careful!” Rhi cried. “I don’t want you hurting your uncle.”

Mica refrained from hugging and just gave Ianto a kiss on the cheek. “Feel better soon.”

“Thank you, Mica, I’m sure I will.”

“Was there a lot of blood? Were you bitten right down to the bone?” David asked with ghoulish fascination.

“David, that’s gross and icky!” Mica complained.

“Not the kind of thing any of us want to talk about right now,” Rhiannon agreed. “It’s Christmas, we should talk about happy things. Why don’t you two help your uncle open his presents?”

“I feel bad that I don’t have anything to give you,” Ianto said sadly. “I was going to wrap your presents last night, everything’s at home waiting.”

“Well, we’ll just have to have another Christmas party at your place once you’re home,” Rhi decided. “It’ll be fun, I’ll cook us leg of lamb or something.”

“Yay!” cried Mica. “I bet no one else is having two Christmases!”

An hour or so later, gifts opened, crackers pulled, and everyone wearing paper hats, Ianto and his family were deep into a game of Monopoly when the door to the room flew open and a very familiar coat swept through, its wearer hidden behind a pile of gaily wrapped gifts topped by a small, decorated tree.

“Ho Ho Ho! Merry Christmas, gorgeous! I hope you’re ready for your Christmas blowjob!”

An uncomfortable silence filled the room as the door swung closed behind Jack, until it was broken by a small voice.

“Mum, what’s a blowjob?” Mica asked, frowning.

“Uh, that’s a very rude word for a special kind of kiss between two people who love each other, and I don’t ever want to hear either of you saying it,” Rhi managed, looking sternly at her children before giving Ianto a funny look. David, who was probably just about old enough to have heard the term from older friends at school, was biting his lip. Johnny had gone red and his shoulders were shaking as he tried not to laugh at the mortified expression on his brother-in-law’s face.

Ianto looked heavenward and groaned, wishing he could hide, or better yet, wake up and find it was all just a bad dream. This couldn’t be happening; the universe really must hate him! He couldn’t begin to imagine what he’d done to deserve such torture.

Jack’s head poked around his burden; he was wearing a bright green plastic headband from which a wire stuck up with a sprig of plastic mistletoe dangling from the end. It was horrendously tacky, yet somehow very Jack. He flashed his best megawatt smile at Rhiannon, all dazzling white teeth and effortless charm.

“Well hello there! Captain Jack Harkness, and who might you be?”

Practically no one was immune to that smile, and Rhi was no exception, her cheeks flushing pink as she smiled back. Johnny didn’t find that anywhere near as amusing as Ianto’s discomfiture had been, and glared at the interloper.

“Jack!” Ianto’s voice came out as a tight, strained squeak of horror. “Stop hitting on my sister!”

Jack’s head disappeared, to reappear around the other side of the pile of presents, a softer, more genuine smile lighting his face. “Oh, there you are! Happy Christmas, sweetheart! I know how much you hate being in the hospital, so I thought I’d come and cheer you up. These are for you!” He raised his arms slightly and the pile of parcels teetered alarmingly. Johnny grabbed Mica, lifting her out of danger as Rhi made a grab, rescuing the top half of the pile before anything could fall. Jack set the rest on the end of the bed, flashing Rhi another devastating smile. “Thanks. I got them all the way up here in the lift without any trouble, wouldn’t do to drop them now! Where should I put the tree? I noticed last night that you didn’t have any decorations. Can’t have Christmas without a tree! How about here?” Jack squeezed past everyone to stand the tree on the windowsill. “There, that’s more Christmassy! I decorated it myself, you know.”

“I can tell,” Ianto commented dryly. The tree was lopsided and over laden with sparkly things in every colour imaginable. Most of them clashed horribly, but Jack looked so pleased with himself that Ianto didn’t have the heart to tell him it was hideous. Sometimes Jack had no taste whatsoever.

Rhi cleared her throat. “So, Ianto, are you going to introduce us properly or do we have to do it ourselves?”

Ianto winced; this wasn’t going to be fun. He hadn’t even told Rhi he was dating, never mind that he was seeing a man, although after Jack’s blowjob comment it was a safe bet that she knew now.

“Um, Jack, this is my sister Rhiannon, her husband Johnny, and my niece and nephew, Mica and David.” Ianto turned to Rhi. “Jack’s my… um…”

“Boyfriend,” Jack filled in, “but I double as his boss.”

“You’re dating your boss?” Rhi did the Jones eyebrow thing. “Your male boss?”

“Um, well… yes?”

Rhi looked thoughtfully at Jack. “Ianto’s seemed happier lately, but I thought he had a new girlfriend, not a boyfriend.” She shrugged. “But I suppose it makes no difference really, does it? Not as long as you treat him right anyway. It’s nice to meet you, Jack.” Rhi held out her hand and Jack, turning the charm up full force, took it and kissed her fingers.

“Enchanted. Ianto’s told me a lot about you, but I have to say your pictures don’t do you justice.”

“Well, aren’t you the charmer? So, Ianto talks about his family?”

“Yes, quite often,” Jack assured her.

“Funny, he’s never said a word about you; I’d remember if he had!” She glared at her brother.

“I was going to tell you, I just never quite got around to it.” Ianto’s cheeks went a bit pink and he avoided his sister’s eyes.

“Hmmm, we’ll discuss this later, when there aren’t little ears around to hear.”

Mica was paying no attention to the adults; she was too busy looking at all the presents piled on the bed and broke the awkward silence that had descended with a question. “What have you bought for Uncle Ianto? I got him a new tie. It’s purple. Mum got him a warm jumper and slippers and David got him Despicable Me!”

“Despicable who?” Jack asked, confused.

“It’s a DVD, Jack.” Ianto rolled his eyes. “Jack’s tastes are stuck in the Forties,” he told Rhi, “as you may have noticed from his outfit.”

“Hey! This style is classic!” Jack mock pouted at Ianto. “Anyway, you know you love it.”

“It does suit you,” Ianto conceded. “My feet are going to sleep. What’s so heavy?” Ianto wriggled his toes under the covers, making the colourful parcels jiggle.

“Want to find out?” Jack reached for one of the presents.

“Present time!” Mica shouted. She didn’t care that they weren’t for her; she just wanted to know what was inside them.

“Start with this one.” Jack handed Ianto a small parcel.

Ianto eyed it dubiously. “Are you sure it’s safe to open this in company?”

“Yep!” Jack beamed at him and then frowned, quickly shuffling through the other gifts and setting several to one side, out of the way. “We’d better save those for later, but that one’s fine.”

Ianto still looked wary, but he opened it anyway, to find a pair of red novelty Christmas boxer shorts with penguins all over them. Ianto’s cheeks heated up. “Jack!”

“Aren’t they brilliant? Press just there and they play music!” Jack pointed at the tab on the waistband. “I’ve got some too, but mine have mistletoe on them to match this.” He pointed at his headband, which Ianto had almost managed to forget about, then fumbled at his waistband until the tinny strains of ‘I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus’ came from his trousers. “I think yours play ‘Winter Wonderland’.”

“Unbelievable,” Ianto groaned.

Rhi and Johnny were laughing their heads off. Ianto wondered if he could get away with killing Jack in front of everyone. Probably not. Why did Jack have to love cheesy novelties so much?

“Shame you can’t really wear them in here, but we can save them for when you’re home, then we can have fun with them.”

“Do you have to work at being embarrassing or does it come naturally?” Ianto asked, a pained expression on his face.

Jack just grinned and leaned down to kiss him on the top of his head. “Open this one next.” He set the biggest box on Ianto’s lap. “Let me know if you need help with it.”

Ianto hesitated. “Nothing’s going to jump out of this, is it?” he asked, having visions of some giant inflatable… something bursting free as he removed the lid, to scare the life out of everybody present and embarrass him further.

Jack looked wounded. “Don’t you trust me?”

“I know you, Jack, I’ve learned from experience it doesn’t pay to be too trusting!”

Jack just laughed at that. “You’re safe, I promise.”

“We’ll see.” The box was a solid weight on his lap as Ianto eased the lid up one handed, refusing Jack’s offer of assistance. He wanted to at least open these gifts from Jack by himself after having help with the ones from his family. A big part of the fun of getting presents was in opening them and finding out what was inside. The lid slid off the bed onto the floor with a thud and Ianto folded back crisp tissue paper to reveal a carefully folded, warm and weighty black overcoat with a deep burgundy silk lining. Lifting it part out of the box, feeling the high quality wool against his fingers, Ianto sighed reverently. “Oh Jack, this is gorgeous!”

“I owed you a new coat considering it was my fault your good one got ruined. I had it made to measure, so it should be a perfect fit.”

“I love it! Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Mister Jones. Let’s see what else we have.”

Ianto took his time opening the rest of his gifts, making the kids alternately frustrated by his slowness and disappointed by what they felt were uninteresting contents: Two new shirts, a pair of fleece-lined leather driving gloves, a handsome new red silk bathrobe, the special edition DVD of the most recent James Bond film, which at least met David’s approval, Garnet cufflinks, which Mica thought were pretty, a new wallet with a picture of him and Jack already installed, and a leather bound journal since his old one was nearly full. It was an impressive haul and Ianto was delighted with everything.

The final parcel Jack deemed safe for opening in front of Ianto’s family turned out to be a massive box of chocolates, dark of course, which Ianto opened so everyone could enjoy them, though all except Jack were still too stuffed from dinner to manage more than a couple each. That made Ianto think.

“Jack, what did you do for dinner?” The plan had been for them to have a slightly belated Christmas dinner at a restaurant on Boxing Day since Ianto was supposed to be eating at his sister’s on Christmas Day. Jack had booked them a table months ago.

“I didn’t have time for much so I just got some chips on my way here.”

“Chips for Christmas dinner?” Rhi was horrified.

“It’s okay, Ianto and I were planning to have our holiday dinner tomorrow at the Bayside Brasserie. I suppose I’d better cancel our reservations though,” he added to Ianto, “since you’ll be stuck here for a couple more days.”

“I’m sorry, Jack. We had such great plans.”

“It’s not your fault, Ianto, it was just bad luck. I’ll re-book for next month instead. It won’t be the Christmas menu then, I know, but we always enjoy eating there and there’s always next Christmas.”

“Right, can’t have you surviving on chips at Christmas! You’re coming over to ours for dinner tomorrow,” Rhi told Jack in a tone that brooked no argument. “Twelve o’clock sharp. Then you can bring dinner to Ianto at visiting time so he doesn’t starve.” With that settled, as far as she was concerned, Rhi turned to the others. “Now, who’s for another game of Monopoly since it seems like we’ve lost track of who was winning the last one? Pull up a chair, Jack. You get to be the boot.”

Jack didn’t bother with a chair, hanging his coat on a hook and squeezing onto the bed beside Ianto before stealing a kiss. “Mistletoe,” he said with a wink, pointing at his headband.

“Like you need any excuse.”

“What can I say? You’re irresistible.”

“Sweet talker.”

Mica reached across Ianto’s tray table and the Monopoly board to tug at Jack’s sleeve. “If you’re Uncle Ianto’s boyfriend, does that mean you’re our uncle too?”

“I don’t know. I guess that’s up to you guys.”

“You’re funny, you’d be a good uncle.” Mica looked at David, who nodded agreement. “Okay. You go first, Uncle Jack.”

Jack beamed at the children, picking up the dice and shaker, rolling five and moving the boot five spaces on the board.

“I think I’m going to like being Uncle Jack.”

Ianto was quick to correct him. “Honorary uncle. Technically, we’d have to be married for you to be their official uncle.” Ianto spoke in a whisper so no one else heard as the other players took their turns.

“Maybe we can work on making things official. I’m game if you are.” Jack kept his voice equally low and Ianto looked at him in surprise.

“Are you serious?”

“Completely.” Jack nudged him gently. “You can give me your answer later, right now it’s your turn, you’re holding up the game.”

“Right. Of course, the game comes first.” Ianto rolled seven and moved the iron, smiling to himself. This might not be the Christmas he’d planned, but it was turning out to be far more interesting, not to mention entertaining, than he could have imagined.

The End

Tags: fic, fic: one-shot, fic: pg, fluff, humour, ianto jones, jack harkness, jack/ianto, other character/s, rhiannon davies, torchwood fic, torchwood_fest

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