Opportunities/One door closes...and a window opens (3/?)

[madbottoms]

Title: Opportunities/One door closes...and a window opens (3/?)

Rating: PG – I think. There is talk of sex and some ‘adult’ moments but nothing explicit. My son watches TV with more gratuitous moments than this story. It’s the smarm you need to worry about

Genre: AU! No aliens but some familiar names may still be used

Characters: Jack, Ianto, Estelle

Summary: The holiday season is coming up and Ianto Jones is stuck without a job, with very little money and not too many prospects. So when he is offered a job for two weeks, he readily accepts. But this new job may become complicated when he realises that the man who broke his heart years before is the grandson of his new employer.

A/N: Thanks to everyone for commenting on the fic name. After much consideration I have decided that the current name has already grown on me and I have decided to let it be. And as someone pointed out, it's what is in the fic that is most important. Great to see everybody enjoying it so far, too.

*~*

 

Chapter Three

 

By the next afternoon the snowstorm was over, though the wind had picked up. In the residential neighbourhood where his grandmother’s stately home stood, some of the streets still hadn’t been ploughed, but the driveway had been cleared—the handyman had been busy since Jack had left that morning.

 

He parked his car under the car port at the side of the house and went in.

 

From the kitchen, the scents of warm cinnamon and vanilla swirled around him, mixed with the crisp cold of outside air. Christmas cookies, he’d bet. He pushed open the swinging shutters which separated the kitchen from the hallway and peered in.

 

His grandmother’s all-purpose household helper was standing on a chair, digging in a top cabinet which looked as if it hadn’t opened in years. Ad he watched, a stack of odd pans cascaded from the cabinet, raining past Emma’s upraised arms and clattering against the hard tile floor.

 

He offered to help Emma down, and started gathering up pans almost before they’d stopped banging. ‘Why are you climbing on a chair anyway? I thought I bought you a ladder for this kind of thing?’

 

‘It’s in the garage. Too much hassle to go and fetch it. That’s the pan I need there.’ She took it out of his hand. ‘Everything else can go back.’

 

If only his outlet managers were as good as Emma at delegating responsibility, Jack thought, the entire chain would run more smoothly. He gathered up the remaining pans and climbed on the chair and put them away. ‘Is Gran back yet from her lunch date?’

 

‘Not yet. She and Mrs Harper always have a lot to talk about.’

 

Including, Jack remembered ruefully, planning a tea date for him and Mrs Harper’s “little friend.” As if he couldn’t see through that for the matchmaking it was. No wonder Gran had been helping to hold off the procession of suitors at the event last night...

 

‘There’s fresh coffee,’ Emma said.

 

Jack got himself a cup and carried it and a couple of warm biscuits in the big living room. The sun had come out, and it reflected off the brilliant whiteness outside and poured in to the house. The arched panel of leaded glass at the top of the big front window shattered the light into rainbows in which a few dust motes danced across the room.

 

The enormous tree in front of the house swayed in the wind, and a clump of snow fell to the ground just a s a small reddish car pulled into the driveway’ Jack stared. That was certainly his grandmother’s car, but why would she take it out in this weather...

 

The side door opened and shut, and he met her in the doorway between the hall and the living room. ‘What the devil are you doing driving around in this weather?’ he demanded.

 

‘The streets are perfectly clear now, dear. We’re used to snow, and the road crews are very good at their jobs.’

 

‘It’s freezing out there, Gran. The wind chill must be—’

 

‘A man who climbs mountains and jumps out of planes for fun is worried about wind chill?’

 

‘Not for myself,’ he growled. ‘For you. You could get stranded. You could have an accident. Just last night you were telling me how much you appreciated having a good, reliable driver.’

 

‘Very true. It’s quite a fine idea, in fact. Would you hang my coat up, my dear” And ask Emma to brew a pot of tea.’ She dropped her coat carelessly on the hall chair and walked into the living room.

 

Jack bit his tongue and started for the kitchen. Just as he pushed open the door to call Emma the side door opened again, and he had to jerk back to prevent his toes from being caught under the door’s edge. Cold wind swirled in, and a male voice called out, ‘Mrs Cole?’

 

‘I’m just across the hall,’ his grandmother called out. ‘Come on in.’

 

A face appeared around the edge of the door. A round face, with dark hair ruffled around the ears and cheeks reddened by the wind. The man from the cloakroom.

 

Jack stared at him in disbelief. ‘Where did you come from?’

 

He didn’t answer directly. ‘I didn’t expect you to be here. I mean—right here. I didn’t bang the door into your nose, did I?’

 

Finally things clicked. What was wrong with him that it had taken so long to make the connection? ‘I should have known Mary’s “little friend” would turn out to be you,’ he grumbled. No wonder he’d looked at him that way last night. He’d been speculating, all right—wondering what his reaction would be when he finally figured out who he was. ‘Is that why you pulled that crap with the phone number last night? So I’d be surprised when you turned up here?’

 

He flushed suddenly, violently red. ‘Look, I’m sorry about the number. It was a stupid trick, and if someone took it as a prank call—’

 

‘I didn’t have to dial it to figure out the joke.’

 

‘You didn’t? Then I honestly don’t know what you are talking about. All I did was drive your grandmother home from the student union.’

 

Jack rubbed the stubble on his chin. ‘Why?’

 

His grandmother crossed the hall to the stairs. ‘Jack, you said yourself just now that I shouldn’t be driving in this weather like this, so Ianto drove me home.’ Her voice faded as she reached the top of the stairs.

 

Jack stared at the man again. ‘You’re not the friend of Mary’s that Gran invited to tea?’

 

He shook his head. ‘Sorry to disappoint you. Are you talking about Mary Harper? I know who she is, but that’s all.’

 

‘Then what are you doing here?’

 

‘I’m, trying to tell you, if you’ll just listen. Actually, I’m surprised you haven’t gone back to London yet.’

 

‘I see you’ve done your homework. Not that it’s hard to find out where I live.’

 

The man’s gaze flickered, and Jack felt a flash of satisfaction at disconcerting him. But he didn’t explain or defend himself. ‘Maybe you can convince your grandmother to see a doctor,’ he went on. ‘I didn’t get anywhere when I tried.’

 

 

Jack’s attention snapped back to him like a slingshot. ‘Doctor?’

 

‘She had a dizzy spell. She’d had lunch at the restaurant at the student union. Mrs Harper, and Estelle—’

 

‘You’re on a first name basis?’

 

‘You’re grandmother stayed to finish her coffee. When she stood up, she almost passed out. I tried to get her to go to the doctor, but she insisted she was fine to come home.’

 

‘So you grabbed the opportunity to drive her out here.’

 

‘She was going to drive herself,’ the young man protested.

 

‘Why not just call her a taxi?’

 

‘She didn’t want to leave her car there to be towed. And will you stop yelling at me and think about it? I’m betting that’s just like her.’

 

He was right, Jack conceded. His grandmother was perfectly capable of refusing to see a doctor, and of insisting on not leaving her car unattended, of driving when she shouldn’t. And she was behaving oddly—she didn’t normally fling her coat about like that.

 

‘Thank you for bringing her home,’ he said quietly. ‘I’ll take it from here.’

 

But the man didn’t budge. He looked almost uncomfortable.

 

Jack wondered what he was waiting for. Was he expecting some sort of payment? Or did he have something else on his mind?

 

He frowned as he remembered the flash of familiarity he’d felt the night before. He’d dismissed that as the look of a man on the prowl. But had it been more than that? He tipped his head to one side and looked closely. Tall, slim and straight, black hair, blue eyes and cute button nose...What had his grandmother called him?

 

A few random words swirled in his brain and settled into a pattern. Button nose, Ianto. You’ve done your homework.

 

 ‘You’re Ianto Jones,’ he said softly.

 

It was no wonder, really, that he hadn’t recognised him the night before. There was nothing about this lithe, good looking man with big blue eyes which resembled the lanky, too thin, awkward loner who was stored in his memory—the one with almost curly black hair, dressed in all black with his face always buried in a textbook.

 

And yet there was one thing which hadn’t changed. He’d seen it at the cloakroom when he’d smiled, and that was why he’d looked familiar, despite all the surface changes. Because the only other time he’d smiled at him...

 

That was a long time ago. Another lifetime, in fact.

 

Still, no wonder he’d been itchy around him when collecting his coats. No wonder he’d picked at him, egged him on, found fault with everything he did. His subconscious must have recognised him, despite all the changes in his looks.

 

‘So, you’re still hanging around the university?’ Jack said. ‘I figured by now you’d be head actuary for some big investment firm or national bank. Or an engineer somewhere in some space program. Or—no, I have it. You must be working undercover at the student union, checking for fraud.  Because I’m sure a guy with the brainpower you’ve got would never be satisfied with just running a cloakroom.’

 

Ianto’s jaw tightened, and Jack thought for a second he was going to take a swing at him.

 

‘He’s not running a cloakroom,’ his grandmother said form the first floor landing. ‘Not anymore. Jack, Ianto is my new driver. Only, I’m going to call him my personal assistant, because it sounds so much nicer. Don’t you agree?’

 

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