Torchwood Fic- A Gentleman's Gentleman: Chapter Six

[bluecastle]

 

Title: A Gentleman’s Gentleman
Chapter: 6 of ?
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Rating: mostly it’s just fluff, fluff, and more fluff. Shall we consider calling today Twee Tuesday after all the sweetness in this…???
Summary: Ianto arranges for a private dinner for him and his Captain…

Chapter Six -- The Folly
 
a/n: Ok, I willingly admit to being besotted by a movie called "Firelight" which I haven't seen in a number of years... but it's basically Jane Eyre with sex, so what’s not to love? The estate in the movie has this mind numbingly wonderful folly in the middle of a lake. Tres picturesque. So I am borrowing the setting, and perhaps a bit of the conceit... but imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, right? So when I was thinking of some place on the Lethbridge estate for this little assignation, the folly came to mind and I ran with it.

for those who like visuals, there's a picture of it here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Firelight

It was just after six p.m. when Jack got back to his room. Ianto had given him strict instructions. He could look in the dresser drawer. He could change his clothes. He could read the instructions. He could NOT open the map until at least seven p.m.  He ached to peek at the map, but he knew that the anticipation would only add to the evening’s adventures.

Jack pulled open the bottom dresser drawer and lifted out a neat stack of items. On the bottom of the stack was a gloriously thick, soft, cream-colored Aran turtleneck sweater. Next in the stack was a largish flat interdepartmental envelope marked top secret. Jack assumed this was the map. On the top of the stack was a smaller envelope, one of Ianto’s now familiar embossed Torchwood stationery envelopes.

Jack lay the larger envelope on the dresser, and held the sweater up in front of him, examining how he looked in the mirror. He knew that if Ianto had picked it out, it would fit him perfectly. Jack tossed the sweater on the bed, and crossed to one of the armchairs flanking the fireplace. There was a fire going, and he noticed the coffee thermos and his striped mug sat waiting on the side table. He poured himself a cup and took his favorite first sip, as ever trying to figure out what made Ianto’s coffee so special. He plumped down in the nearest chair, and went to open the envelope. Like the one that had accompanied his breakfast, this one too was sealed with a blob of red sealing wax, imprinted with the letter J.

Jack,

Congratulations! You have survived the first full day of the conference without setting off any National Emergencies (that I know of). When you first received your information about the conference, I pulled the file on Lethbridge House from the Archives. Included with brochures from previous symposiums, there were maps and satellite images of the grounds, and a wealth of newspaper articles tracing official UNIT functions, as well as some older society page clippings. Did you know that Lethbridge-Stewarts have been hosting hunting parties and weekend house parties since the turn-of-the-century? It must have been something to see a fully functioning estate back then. Did I even tell you my great-grandfather was in service? It wasn’t a grand house like this, he worked for a wool merchant, but he started out as a footman, and worked his way up to Butler. His diaries are fascinating reading.

But, to the point… I suspected that after a long day of dealing with the UNIT bureaucracy that you’d be looking for a way to get away from the official functions. A thorough study of the estate plans provided me with a solution to this dilemma. At the appointed hour, you can open the map, and follow the route I’ve marked, and you’ll find some dinner, some companionship, and I can virtually assure you there will be no UNIT personnel there. (although I have packed the stun gun in case any of them do show up.)

Wear the sweater. Dress warmly. There is a pair of sturdy corduroys and your boots in the closet, and a pair of those nubbly socks in the top dresser drawer, if you like. Don’t forget the coat. You’ll need it to keep warm, and I want to see you in it.

I’ll see you soon, Jack. Happy Hunting. -- Ianto

Jack finished his coffee, and then slipped into the bathroom to take a quick shower. He toweled himself off as he wandered back in front of the fireplace, rubbing the water out of his hair. He pulled on a fresh white undershirt and a pair of boxers, and grabbed his favorite wooly socks out of the top drawer. He put on the pants Ianto had mentioned in his letter and got his boots out of the closet. Sitting on the bed, he laced up his boots, and then pulled the new sweater over his head. The sweater was warm and soft and fit him like a glove. The browns and creams made a change from his usual wardrobe of blues and greys, and Jack had to admit to himself that Ianto’s taste was impeccable.

He pulled a comb through his hair, and looking at his watch realized he still had some time, so he poured himself another cup of coffee, and re-read Ianto’s note. At 6:55 he couldn’t take the suspense anymore and he retrieved the top secret envelope and ripped it open. Inside was a single sheet of paper with a handrawn map of the house, and the surrounding gardens. There was a dotted line wending its way from the back of the house through the gardens to an X by the lake. Along the right edge of the map were written some instructions.

1. At 19:00 hours, without being seen, exit Lethbridge House by the rear kitchen door. I leave it to your superior tracking skills to get from your room to the kitchen.
2. On the sundial in the middle of the herb garden outside the kitchen entrance will be a lantern. Bring it with you. You will need it to make your way through the gardens this time of the night.
3. Following the map, proceed through the herb garden, the drying yard, and the follow the exterior walls of the rose garden until you reach the tennis courts.
4. Turn west to avoid the boxwood maze, and follow along the lakeshore path until you reach the dock. I will be waiting.

As the mantle clock chimed seven, Jack pulled on his greatcoat, stuffed the map in his pocket, snapped off the lights, and headed for the kitchen. He dodged house staff and UNIT personnel as he snuck down the back stairs into the kitchen. The kitchen staff were all far too busy with dinner preparations to pay much attention to him, so he managed to get outside without any further interruptions. He stood for a minute on the terrace, feeling the winter breeze on his skin, listening to the distant call of a lonely crow. His eyes quickly found the flickering lantern sitting about a hundred feet from the house. He had his torch in the inside pocket of his coat, but Ianto said bring the lantern, and he wasn’t about to ignore his instructions.

When he reached the sundial, he pulled the map out of his pocket and laughed aloud as he held it up, checking his route by the light of the lantern. He never doubted Ianto’s thoroughness, but was delighted to see that the map was drawn with ink which glowed luminescent in the flickering light. He picked up the lantern and set off across the frozen ground, coat-tails flapping in the breeze. After sitting all day, Jack was having a wonderful time out in the crisp air, listening to the wind in the trees, and watching the sparkle of the moonlight on the frosty ground. He found the tennis courts with no problem, but did have to duck into the boxwood maze to avoid a couple of under-gardeners who were trundling up the path with a wheelbarrow and a spade, complaining bitterly about having to work so late, and being late getting down to the pub.

After they passed, Jack slipped along the path, watching the moonlight highlight the fine mist that was hanging over the lake. There was just enough light to make out a person standing near the end of the dock, and a rowboat bobbing gently as the water ruffled against the wooden posts jutting out from the shore. Across the water, Jack could see the flicker of candlelight behind frost-coated glass, and he wondered if that was their destination. Jack reached the dock, and strode to meet the man standing at the other end, his boots clattering on the wooden decking.

Ianto was waiting for him, stopwatch in hand. He clicked the button, turned to Jack and said, “Nice work sir. Fourteen minutes, twenty-three seconds.

Jack laughed and kissed him, but jumped back, complaining, “Your nose is cold!”

He took a moment to look at Ianto. He was wearing his shorter, more casual overcoat, and had changed into jeans, but was now wearing a red v-neck cashmere sweater over his white dress shirt. Jack’s eyebrow went sky high when he saw Ianto’s tie. He moved the lantern in his hand closer to the younger man, examining the tie more carefully. It was a completely unsubtle, very un-Ianto-like red, yellow, and blue plaid.

 “Nice tie,” Jack finally said.

 “Seemed appropriate, Sir.”

 “Because we’re in Scotland?”

 “You disappoint me Sir. You wouldn’t expect me to wear anything other than a Stewart plaid here on the Brigadier’s estate, now would you?”

 At Jack’s slightly befuddled look, Ianto just chuckled, and kissed him. “Your nose is cold too, Jack.”

Turning towards the rowboat, Ianto announced, “This way to the boats, Sir, and we’ll be off. If you hold the lantern, I’ll take care of the oars, and we’ll soon see if my surprise pleases you.”

Jack found himself unable to see very far through the mist that shrouded the lake, but he listened to the sounds of the water lapping against the boat and the creak of the oars in the oarlocks as Ianto rowed them towards the flickering lights.

Ianto voice broke the stillness. “According to the estate plans, this folly was built in 1896 at the whim of the second wife of then owner, Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart. It fell into disrepair over the years, but the current Lady Lethbridge has overseen its restoration.”

Ianto maneuvered the boat around and tied it to one of the ornate stone staircases that led down into the water.

 “It’s wonderful, Ianto.”

The folly was a small glass-enclosed shelter with stone steps that branched out from all four sides, the steps leading down into the water.

 “When I first saw it Jack, I thought it looked lonely, marooned out here in the middle of the lake. But come inside and let me show you what we’ve got for dinner.”

Ianto stepped carefully out of the boat, and pulled Jack up onto the stairs next to him. Jack lifted the lantern to look around as Ianto opened the French doors on the front of the folly. There were wooden benches on either side of the small enclosure, and Ianto had filled the corners of them with an assortment of lamps and candles. On the floor were spread out a number of plaid blankets and a few pillows had been tossed against the benches. On the blanket was a picnic basket, and an ice bucket, in which rested a bottle of champagne. Ianto took the lantern from Jack and ushered him into the folly, closing the door behind them. Jack was stunned.

He turned to Ianto, asking, "How did you get all this out here?"

Ianto chuckled as he explained. "I used my masculine wiles on an eager footman.”

He wrapped his arms around Jack’s waist, leaned in nipping his ear and asked, “Do you think he will be mad when he finds out that the directions I gave him so he could find my room later, were actually directions to Perky's room?"

"You didn't."

Ianto pulled back and looked at Jack, replying sternly, "Do you have any reason to doubt my veracity, Captain Sir?"

"Do you have any idea how hot that tone of voice is?"

"Not a clue, Sir, perhaps you could give me a demonstration."

Jack slid his arms inside Ianto’s overcoat, and pulled him into a fierce embrace, palms roaming over the soft cashmere of the sweater and the rough denim of his jeans, while the lining of Ianto’s overcoat brushed the backs of his hands. Jack reveled in the contrasting textures. Ianto ran his hands up Jack’s back and shoulders, loving the feeling of the woolen greatcoat under his fingers, and then wound his fingers in the other man’s hair as Jack leaned in to capture a long languid kiss.

“Jack?” Ianto whispered as he nibbled the other man’s ear.

“Hmmm?”

“If we don’t stop this, we won’t get around to dinner, and I’m starving.”

Jack laughed, and stepped back, replying, “So… what’s on the menu... besides me of course?”

Ianto knelt down next to the picnic basket, and rolled his eyes as Jack flopped down on the blankets beside him. His eagerness was appreciated, but sometimes Ianto had a hard time reconciling Jack’s immortality and his childishness. But this was not the time for deep philosophical thoughts, so Ianto began to unpack the basket.

“Planning a picnic for the middle of winter was a bit of a challenge. But I thought we’d start with some lobster bisque.”

Ianto dug out the thermos and the crockery mugs and spoons, handing Jack a large white linen napkin. He handed Jack two champagne flutes and asked him to pour them a drink.

Jack filled their glasses, handed one back to Ianto, and raised his.

“Time for a toast I think.”

With twinkling eyes, Jack looked at his lover and said, “To Ianto, my aid in all things.”

Seeing Ianto begin to blush, Jack leaned over for a brief kiss, and then looking back at Ianto, continued with, “and here’s hoping there are no jellied eels in that basket…”

The two men clinked their glasses, laughing.

“Perish the thought, Sir. There are no jellied eels here, just the soup, some poached local salmon and a nicoise potato salad, and then some fruit and chocolate for dessert.”

“So I don’t get to be dessert, hmmm?” Jack teased.

“Think of yourself more as a midnight snack… Sir,” Ianto teased back.

The two men laughed and talked as they ate their dinner, and by the time they were polishing off the last of the chocolate truffles, Ianto was leaning back against Jack, utterly relaxed. Jack had sneaked his right hand up underneath Ianto’s sweater and shirt, and was slowly and softly caressing Ianto’s lower back, his warm palm sending gentle shudders up Ianto’s spine.

Ianto picked up Jack’ s left hand and played with it for a while, running his fingers over Jack’s fingers, and then tracing each crease and line of Jack’s palm with his index finger. He brought his lover’s hand up to his lips and spent a long time just running his lips over Jack’s hand, pausing every now and again to kiss a fingertip, or suck off a stray bit of chocolate from the truffles. When he began working Jack’s palm with lips and tongue, Jack pulled Ianto tight against him and nuzzled the nape of his neck.

Clasping Jack’s hand, and threading their fingers together, Ianto turned slightly so he could look at Jack.

“Are you happy Jack?”

Jack threaded his fingers in Ianto’s hair and pulled him in for a kiss, murmuring against his lips, “Oh, yeah…”

Ianto kissed him back, and then turned, settling back against Jack, his head on Jack’s shoulder. Jack’s arms were around Ianto’s waist, and Ianto threaded his fingers back into Jack’s and very quietly asked, “Do you think you will remember this night, a thousand years from now?”

“Ianto?”

“I just wonder sometimes how it will be for you, when you look back on the time we spent together. Will you be sitting in a bar somewhere telling people, ‘I once had this lover who did all kinds of sexy things with a stopwatch?’”

“Would that bother you?”

Ianto smiled as he replied, “Not really…as long as the story was a good one.”

“I’ll make it good, I promise,” Jack said.

Ianto went back to playing with Jack’s fingers as he tried to find the right words.

“There’s something else, isn’t there Ianto.”

“I… well, it’s… yeah, I uh…”

“Ianto, what is it?”

“I have one more surprise, but I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about it.”

“Why would I?”

“I just… it’s well… it’s a present. Close your eyes, Jack.”

“I’m not even looking…”

“Please, Jack. For me.”

Jack closed his eyes, and Ianto dug into his overcoat pocket and pulled out a small box. He set it in Jack’s left hand, and closed Jack’s fingers over it.

“Don’t drop it.”

“Can I open my eyes now?”

“Go ahead.”

As Jack went to open the little box, Ianto watched Jack’s face closely. Jack opened the lid of the box, and there, inside the box nestled in blue satin, was a silver-colored signet ring, engraved with the letter J.

“It’s platinum. I found the original in gold in a little antiques store a long time ago, and I had it copied in a sturdier metal for you.”

“You got me a ring?” Jack asked, tonelessly.

Ianto sighed, “It doesn’t mean what you think it means.”

Ianto pulled away and started packing things up in the picnic basket.

“Wait, Ianto… what do you think I think it means?”

“I knew you’d read too much into this. It’s not a proposal… it’s just, well… just a keepsake. I wanted to give you something that you could keep that would remind you of me…”

“Oh, Ianto, you sweet 21^st century lunatic,” Jack cried, pulling Ianto into a huge hug. “Just stop thinking for a minute and listen to me…”

Ianto just looked at Jack, blushing slightly, as Jack continued.

“This beautiful ring means whatever you want it to mean, Ianto. Tell me what it means to you.”

Ianto looked down as he tried to answer Jack’s question. “Maybe it’s that my father was a tailor, but monograms have always meant something to me Jack. Do you remember not long after Lisa finally died, you found me down in the morgue?”

“On her birthday, wasn’t it?” Jack asked.

“Yep. She hadn’t been gone very long, and I was still struggling with the memories, and you found me there, and sat by me while I cried, and you loaned me your handkerchief because I’d forgotten mine.”

“I did?”

“You did. And I remember being struck by the monogram on your handkerchief. I knew at the time it was strange connection to make, but I kept thinking, J for Jack … J for Jones. I was so lost back then, and as stupid as it was it was some small connection between us. And then when you left us, after Abaddon, I used to walk a lot. It gave me something to do to keep my mind off of Torchwood. On one of those walks I saw a gold signet ring in the window of an antique shop with a J on it and I bought it. On the really bad days I would wear it and try to remember the good times. And then after you came back, I forgot about it for a while. But I found it a couple months back, and had it copied by a friend in London who’s a jeweler, and then I tried to figure out when was the right time to give it to you.”

“Is now the right time?”

“I don’t know if there is such a thing. I thought about giving it to you at Christmas, but lately we always seem to be busy during the holidays saving the Earth… so when this trip came up, I thought, “maybe now.”

Jack took it out of the box, and put the ring on his left pinky finger.

“You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to Jack. I just wanted you to have it.”

Jack looked at it on his hand, turning his hand and watching the flickering lights reflect on it. He paused, then, and pulled it closer, looking puzzled for a minute, and then he turned to Ianto with a huge smile on his face.

“This ring… it’s familiar… I’ve seen it somewhere before haven’t I?”

“I don’t think so Jack. Have you?”

“You know I have you sneaky bastard. Today’s notes. The sealing wax. The J imprinted on the seal. You used the ring!”

“Technically, I used the original,” Ianto replied with a smile, pulling it out of his trouser pocket, and slipping it on his right ring finger.

“Now help me pack these things up, and we’ll go back to the house and you can get started on the formal thank you note…”

“You’d better start a file, Ianto,” Jack whispered as he pulled Ianto in for a kiss. “I’m going to be thanking you very thoroughly…and for a very long time...”

 Back to Chapter One...

this way to Chapter Seven