Opportunities/One door closes...and a window opens (16/22)

[madbottoms]

Title: Opportunities/One door closes...and a window opens (16/22)

Rating: PG – I think. There is talk of sex and some ‘adult’ moments but nothing explicit.

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: Sorting suits, hats and some of what Jack and Estelle discussed is revealed. Not very happy with this one because it has changed slightly from how it was originally going to be posted. Various comments up to now have given me other ideas to think on and add in. So, cheers for that and I just hope it goes off okay. And please forgive any mistakes, I’m buggered from a long day at work and now it’s time to sit down to tea.

*~*

Chapter Sixteen

 

Ianto lay awake for a long time, thinking about what had happened in the car. And what might have happened if Estelle hadn’t been waiting up. Why must he be such a—such a sponge about being kissed? Add water to a sponge and you could mould it into any shape you liked. Add a simple kiss to Ianto Jones, and he, too, went all pliable and soppy...

 

Of course, he admitted, that analogy wasn’t quite true, because it hadn’t exactly been a simple kiss. If a simple kiss was like a jazz piece, then this embrace—with its multiple undertones and nuances—had been a full-fledged symphony.

 

And it wasn’t just any kiss which could affect him that way, either. He’d been kissed his fair share of times, and never with anyone else had he reacted the way he did when Jack Harkness touched him.

 

Of course, that didn’t mean there was anything incredible going on here. No once-in-a-lifetime fireworks exploding. All it meant was that Jack was far more experienced than the usual goodnight kiss at the door. And it wasn’t exactly something to be proud of that he reacted to Jack in such a way. Particularly when he knew from firsthand experience what a charmer he was.

 

Maybe it was the unexpectedness that really got him, he speculated. Every time Jack had kissed him, Ianto had only an instant’s warning, barley time to brace himself and certainly not enough to mentally prepare. So what if next time he didn’t wait around for him to get the idea? What if he seized every opportunity to kiss Jack, rather than let Jack kiss him? Then Ianto would be the one in control. He’d be ready. And before long he’d be bored out of his skull and Jack wouldn’t affect him anymore...

 

Dreamer, whispered a little voice in his head. You just want an excuse to kiss him again.

 

He punched the pillow into shape and thought about what little Jack had said about his parents and Glasgow. No wonder the man was skittish about possible suitors, about commitment, about sentimental attachment to material goods.

 

And no wonder Ianto’s resistance had been softened. Who wouldn’t be sympathetic after a tale like that? Even though the details were few and the emotions were mostly ones he’d imagined for himself?

 

He wondered what Jack and Estelle were talking about down in the living room, and why it seemed to be taking so long. He didn’t even realise he was listening for footsteps on the stairs until he heard them come up. Estelle’s steps were slow and careful, as if she were tired or discouraged. Then, quite a bit later, Ianto heard Jack—though he was obviously trying to be quiet. Was it his imagination, or did Jack stop outside his door before going on to his bedroom?

 

Surely not. Kissing him was one thing, but coming to his room... Unless there was something he needed to tell him, to warn him about. Perhaps something concerning his conversation with Estelle.

 

How much did Estelle know—or suspect?

 

*~*

 

Ianto’s comment about expecting Estelle to be a slave driver in the morning, after her evening’s rest, had been nothing more than a casual phrase, but he had barely left his room before he was starting to feel that he’d had a psychic moment.

 

A muffled thump drew his attention to the dressing room right next to Estelle’s bedroom. Her ‘extra wardrobe’, Estelle had called it, and Ianto had taken one look through the door at a couple of bulging closets and decided to postpone the job as long as he could.

 

Now, he opened the door and paused in horrified surprise at the sight of Estelle, standing on a chair, taking boxes off the top shelf of a cupboard. One of them had escaped her and bounced on the carpet.

 

She was eighty, and the woman was standing on a chair cleaning out shelves. It was a wonder she hadn’t fallen off.

 

‘Estelle,’ Ianto said. ‘How on earth did you get up there?’

 

‘I climbed onto the footstool and then onto the chair. I thought I’d get an early start, and I didn’t want to bother you since you were out late last night.’

 

Ianto felt guilty, stopped to pick up the hatbox Estelle had dropped, and eyed the row of similar boxes which marched across the top of the dresser. The woman had obviously been at work for a while. ‘What’s got you so fired up today?’

 

‘I had a chat with Jack last night.’ And she left it at that.

 

Ianto wondered if that was good or bad news. If Jack had told his grandmother he wanted to use her china for target practice...

 

Estelle pulled another box from the shelf and opened it. ‘Oh, this was one of my favourites—back in the days when ladies wore hats everywhere. Maybe I should bring them back in style.’

 

Ianto blinked at the bright-eyed bird—it looked real—perched atop forest green velvet. ‘Well, I wouldn’t suggest sharing that one, or all the animal lovers will be on your case. Of course, you could wear it with your mink and give them a two-for-one thrill.’ She took the box and added it to the row on the dresser.

 

Estelle didn’t seem to share the joke. ‘There’s a matching suit in here somewhere—that matches the hat. The same shade of green, but its wool trimmed with velvet.’ She bent over, wobbling a little, so she could flip through the dress bags which hung under the shelf, peeking at each hanger.

 

Ianto’s throat tightened. ‘Estelle, you get down this minute and let me look for it.’

 

‘I wonder who might be able to use these things?’ Estelle mused. ‘I still even have some of my husband’s suits in here, too.’ Obediently, she took Ianto’s hand and got down from the chair to the footstool, and then the floor, groaning a little. Ianto felt the pressure in his chest ease a bit with Estelle safely back on firm ground.

 

‘Why don’t you go downstairs for a rest and a cup of coffee? I’ll think about who might want them,’ Ianto suggested. ‘Oh, this must be what you were looking for.’ He pulled out a transparent dress bag and opened it. ‘This is lovely. I bet the drama department at the university would love having authentic period costumes.’

 

‘Oh, goodness,’ Estelle sighed. ‘Hearing my wardrobe described as authentic period costume is a bit of a jolt.

 

‘Sorry.’

 

‘That’s okay, dear. It’s true after all.’ Estelle smiled and then grabbed another bag out of the cupboard and opened the bag. ‘Ah, here’s one of my late husband’s suits. He was a bit of a sharp dresser in his day.’ She opened the suit bag and showed Ianto.

 

‘Oh, wow. This is gorgeous.’ Ianto admired a well-made suit and this one was definitely top of the line.

 

The cut of the suit was severe and so old fashioned that it was now back in style. Ianto could almost covet it himself. He took the bag from Estelle and laid it out across the bed.

 

‘Yes, he turned a few heads in his suits, I can tell you that.’ Estelle smiled fondly. ‘I’ll bring you a coffee back up—or would you like to have breakfast before you start sorting?’

 

‘I’m not hungry. But I’d love a coffee.’ Ianto took out several more suit bags and then climbed up on the chair and took out several more boxes, when he heard footsteps behind him. ‘What did you do with all these, Estelle?’

 

It was Jack who answered. ‘She wore them I presume.’

 

Ianto spun around, forgetting he was standing on a chair and only kept his balance by dropping everything and bracing both hands on the moulding of the cupboard door. Very carefully, he shifted his grip and regained his balance. ‘I thought you’d already left.’

 

‘I slept in this morning. Boss’ prerogative.’ He retrieved a couple of boxes and handed them to Ianto.

 

‘Thanks. Still recuperating from the talking-to you got from Estelle, perhaps?’

 

‘That would take a while.’ His voice was dry.

 

The almost-devious answer was all the confirmation Ianto needed—it was obvious to him, if he’d needed confirmation, that the subject had been Ianto himself. ‘I’ll accept you apology now, for causing all this trouble.’

 

Jack’s eyebrows tilted upward. ‘If you’re expecting me to say sorry for kissing you, get over it. You were much too cooperative to deserve an apology.’

 

Ianto bit his lip. He could hardly deny that. You’re nothing but a sponge, he accused himself. ‘Then I’ll accept with gratitude your offer to explain to Estelle that there’s nothing going on between us.’

 

‘With gratitude, yet? That’s too bad. Because I’m doing nothing of the sort.’

 

‘But there isn’t, Jack. A few kisses don’t mean anything.’ Ianto didn’t look directly at him. He wasn’t sure he wanted to see the expression on his face. Would it be relief to find that he agreed with him? Satisfaction, perhaps, that he hadn’t misinterpreted Jack’s intentions?

 

Jack moved the suits and sat down on the corner of the bed. ‘What do you think our little talk last night was about, anyway?’

 

‘Well...’ There was no easy way to put it. ‘Me. Or should I say, you and me, right?’

 

Jack grinned. ‘Now who’s being arrogant?’

 

‘But what else could it be? She talked to you last night and today she’s suddenly gung-ho to get this room cleaned out. I thought it must be because she’s suspicious of what’s going on, and she wants to hurry things along and get me out of here.’

 

‘I thought,’ Jack said meditatively, ‘you said there was nothing going on.’

 

‘But if she thinks there is...’

 

Jack shrugged.

 

Ianto frowned. How could Estelle not be suspicious, considering he came almost staggering in last night after the assault on his senses had robbed him of his fine motor skills? ‘I suppose you told her I’d had too much to drink?’

 

‘I didn’t tell her a thing—because she didn’t ask,’ Jack lied. She did ask.

 

In fact, she had sensed the tension between them and asked point blank what was going on. Jack had come clean about their past to his grandmother. Jack had found it quite cathartic to finally be able to tell someone what had actually happened, even if it wasn’t the person that really needed to hear it. Ianto just wasn’t ready.

 

He’d asked Estelle not to say anything to Ianto because he would be mortified. She had agreed and then given him a clip up the back of the head and told him to fix it because Ianto had been through enough. She then went on to repeat her earlier comment that Ianto was too good for him and maybe he was better off with Tosh. At least they had a better history. Jack couldn’t deny that.

 

But Jack wasn’t ready to let Ianto know just yet either, because it would mortify Ianto if he found out that Estelle knew about their past, so he would keep that to himself and hope that his grandmother would too. But they would talk about this after Christmas, so Ianto could enjoy this holiday. And besides, for now, apart from a few stolen kisses, there really was nothing going on.

 

‘I think you’re feeling guilty, Ianto—and considering that you say yourself there’s nothing to feel guilty about, I find that very interesting.’

 

Ianto could feel himself blushing.

 

‘Relax. Gran thinks you and Tosh make a great couple.’

 

Ianto blinked in surprise. ‘Oh, well, I suppose that makes things easier for all of us then.’

 

‘One would think so. Of course that’s not the only thing she wanted to talk to me about,’ he said, preparing to reveal Estelle’s latest bombshell. 'But I don’t suppose it’ll come as any shock to you that she’s giving you the house.’