I don’t own Torchwood or Buffy the Vampire Slayer … I do however own the cracked story idea – and proud of it, thankyouverymuch!  I don’t own the title of this story either, however, that was thought up by the wonderful </a></b></a>ickle18(I say wonderful because anyone who can come up with this title must be), the daughter of </a></b></a>missthingsplace  THANK YOU!

Sunday 27th July

11:21

Buffy let out a whimpering noise. “I thought she was no longer a vengeance demon.”

 “I can’t believe she did this to us,” Gwen moaned.

“It’s inhuman,” Willow agreed.

 “Maybe we can persuade her that green and frilly bridesmaid dresses aren’t the way to go,” Buffy suggested, eyeing up the dresses Anya had put them in. 

 “I tell you, there’s nothing this hideous in our world,” Gwen said. “She must have had these custom made.”

Buffy glowered darkly at Gwen in the mirror. “Don't blame our world for this.  Your world is just as much to blame. It’s not like she brought the dresses with her!”

 “You saw my bridesmaid dresses,” Gwen said, “you were at my wedding! We do not have this kind of thing in our world.”  She picked at the hideous green flower on the front of her dress and looked jealously at Buffy. “Any chance of swapping? Yours is sleeveless.”

 “If you think I’m wearing that ... you’re mad,” Buffy retorted. “I wonder if these dresses count as aliens or demons ... if they’re demons, can I slay them?”

Willow put her arm around Buffy. “We’ll face it together,” she promised. “We faced down the Mayor and Glory ... we can cope with being bridesmaids and best man in these dresses.”

Buffy nodded, swallowing. She was about to speak again when the bedroom door opened and Anya and Owen walked in.  “What’s he doing here?” she asked Anya as Owen dissolved in peels of hysterical laughter at the dresses. Buffy whimpered and looked in the mirror again.

 “He’s supposed to be throwing Xander a bachelor party ... but he followed me here instead,” Anya answered. “Why are you laughing?” she asked him.

He sobered. “Um ... no reason.” He smirked at Buffy. “Nice dress. It really brings out the gloop left in your hair.”

 “There’s goo still in my hair?” Buffy squeaked, running to the mirror and looking closely at her hair.  Discovering none, she rounded on Owen. “Idiot,” she snapped.  He snorted, trying to contain his laughter and failing.

Anya smiled at the three women. “You all look gorgeous,” she complimented. “This is going to be the best wedding ever.” Gwen coughed, but Anya ignored her. “I can’t wait!” With that, she scurried out of the room, leaving Owen to continue laughing at Buffy, Willow and Gwen.

 “Stop laughing,” Buffy whined. “It’s not funny.”

 “Oh, it is,” Owen insisted. “It really... really is.”

Buffy strode over to him, turned him round and shoved him out of the bedroom, locking the door behind her. She turned to Willow, who was pointing her finger at her sleeves, obviously wondering if she could use magic to remove them.  “Help me unzip this,” she asked, turning her back on Willow, who flicked her finger to let the dress down.  “Thanks.”  She grimaced as she pulled off the dress and reached for her normal clothes. “I can’t believe we’re supposed to wear these to the wedding,” she said. “And I don't even know if Xander wants me there.”

 “It doesn’t matter if he does or not,” Gwen said. “It’s Anya’s day, too.”

Buffy nodded solemnly. “But what if he kicks up a fuss about me being there?”

 “He’s more likely to focus on Spike’s presence.” Buffy looked surprised. “Anya invited Spike,” Willow informed her. “We were all surprised.”

Buffy smiled. “I’m glad he’s going,” she said. “He likes Anya.”

 “So how are things going between you and Spike?” Willow asked.

Buffy wanted nothing more than to announce ‘I love him!’ but couldn’t bring herself to say the words. She’d said them to Owen once and ever since then the words had lodged in her throat. “Well,” she replied. “There’s more to him than rough sex.”

Willow pulled a face. “God! We did not need to know that!”

 “I just can’t wait to see if he’s willing to dance with me at the wedding tomorrow,” Buffy said, completely ignoring Willow’s comment. “That’ll be the ultimate test.”

Willow nodded understandingly as she magicked off her dress and replaced it with her usual attire. “Have you two got any plans for lunch?” she asked.  Buffy and Gwen shook their heads. “In that case, let’s kidnap Tosh, Owen and Faith and take them to that nice pub around the corner for lunch.”

Buffy smiled. “Sounds like fun,” she said. “What time and why don't we invite Jack and Ianto, too?”

 “They have plans already,” Gwen informed her. “Lunch with Ianto’s parents at half twelve.”

Buffy nodded and smiled to herself. She hoped that meant Ianto was ready to tell his parents about him and Jack. She had seen how much it had hurt Jack that Ianto had not admitted their relationship. “So, what about this flower?” she said, changing the subject. “I was wondering if we could get it off the dress...”

12:21

 “Ianto, stop worrying,” Jack said, putting his hand on the younger man’s arm as he drove. “We’ll be there on time.”

Ianto and Jack had left for Ianto’s parents’ house with exactly forty-five minutes to drive there, the amount of time necessary for the trip.  Half way there, Jack’s phone had buzzed and they’d had to make a detour to deal with a stray weevil.  Now they were late, and Ianto hated being late.

 “Jack, would you please change your shirt? I can’t explain to my parents why you’re covered in blood!” Ianto snapped. “There’s a spare one in the back.”

 “But ... it’s pink. And yours.”

 “I don't mind you wearing my clothes, Jack, just this once.  And it’s lilac, not pink.”

Muttering ‘same difference’ Jack unbelted himself and clambered into the back of the car, reaching for the shirt and changing carefully. “I’m not leaving my coat in the car,” he informed him. “If your parents ask what the red stain is, tell them it’s red wine or ketchup or something.”

Ianto rolled his eyes and adjusted his rear-view mirror to enable him to ogle Jack’s bare chest as he changed. “Fine. But if they ask why you wear the coat, don't go telling them it’s because you served in the Second World War like you told Bertha.”

Bertha was a little old lady who had seen a weevil. When they’d arrived to deal with the weevil, Jack had made the mistake of telling her he’d served in world war two.  Ianto could still hear Owen’s complaints ringing in his ears as he yelled about not wanting to deal with any more heart-attack patients.

 “I won’t,” Jack promised as he buttoned up the shirt. “I’ve learned my lesson.” He caught Ianto’s gaze in the rear-view mirror. “Eyes on the road,” he said, “I don't want to die again today.” He locked his gaze with Ianto’s. “Especially if I wake up without you.”

Ianto smiled gently and returned his gaze to the road as he pulled into his parent’s driveway.  Immediately, Libby came running down the drive and threw herself at Ianto, who hugged her tight. “I thought you were never going to make it,” she said, with a mock glare. “Mom and dad were talking about search parties.” 

Jack got out of the back of the car and smiled at Libby. She smiled back, almost flirtatiously, earning her a glower from Ianto. “There’s something you need to know, though,” Libby said, urgently. “Mom and dad, they ...” She broke off as their mother came down the driveway, pulling Ianto into a hug.

 “Glad you made it. I was expecting another excuse via a text message,” his mother chastened. “I see you brought your little friend.” She looked Jack over. “Well, I can set a place at the table opposite you, I guess. As long as you’re still sat next to Alice!”

Ianto’s face darkened (as did Jack’s, but for a different reason. Never, in all his time on Earth, had he been called a ‘little friend’ by someone at least a hundred years his junior). “Mam, who’s Alice?” His mother ignored him as she bustled back up towards the house. “Mam!” Ianto shouted. He turned to Libby. “Lib?” he said. “Who’s Alice?”

 “I did try and warn you,” Libby said with a grimace. “Mom’s in full match-making mode.”

 “You’re joking,” Ianto groaned. “Please ... please tell me you’re joking.” A look of horror suddenly crossed his face. “Oh my God ... she didn’t mean Alice McKenner?”

Libby grimaced and nodded, causing Ianto to let out a little moan. “Look, she’s changed a lot. She’s pleasant to be around now ... unlike in high school.” Libby shuddered. “And she’s not hard on the eye ... you just don't mention ... it.”

 “She hasn’t had it removed?” Ianto asked, with a grimace. “After all the grief the entire class gave her in high school over it?”

Libby shook her head. “Nope. Marty is still a fixed point.”

Jack raised an eyebrow at the terminology. The Doctor had called him a fixed point once.  What was this ‘Marty’?  “What are you talking about?” Jack asked, as they walked up the driveway towards the house.

 “I used to go to school with Alice. The entire class used to tease her about this huge mole she has on her face. Libby and I were the only ones who didn’t say ‘Hi Libby, hi Marty’ every time we saw her.” Jack looked puzzled. “The class nicknamed the mole Marty.”

 “It was incredibly cruel,” Libby commented from nearby. “Ianto and I were her only friends in school. We never hung out with her outside of school, but we didn’t shun her either.”  She smiled almost fondly. “She used to sit with us at lunch ...”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Weren’t you in different years?”

Libby nodded. “Yeah, but I was in the same English class as Ianto. I excelled and was pushed forward a few years. We used to sit together at lunch for protection.”

 “Protection?” Jack quizzed.

Ianto smiled. “Libby here was quite the looker in high school ... you can tell that changed as she grew up” – Libby gave an indignant squeak and Ianto just grinned at her – “she had all the boys hounding her. So she sat with me, because she knew I could defend her honour.”

 “Sounds like the Ianto I know,” Jack complimented, putting his arm around his partner for a moment.

Ianto leant into the embrace, causing Libby to say, “Aww, you guys are so cute!”

They pulled away from each other. Fast.

 “Hmm... cute was the wrong word, eh?” Libby said, disappointed. “Adorable? Would you rather I call you adorable?”

 “No,” Ianto said. “I’d rather you called us Ianto and Jack.”

Libby pushed open the kitchen door, the three of them stepping inside and washing their hands as they laughed together.  When they wandered through to the dining room, Ianto was shocked to see both his brothers sat at the table along with his parents, his grandmother and Alice, who Jack recognised instantly thanks to the prominent mole on his face (Ianto and Libby weren’t exaggerating. In fact, Jack reckoned they’d understated it) Ianto, however, groaned. This was going to make his announcement that much harder.  He’d have to find a good time to tell his parents about Jack – away from the others.

They sat down at the table, Jack sandwiched between his mother and Alice, his brothers and father talking animatedly down one end of the table, and Ianto sat between Libby and his grandmother. As his mother served lunch, a large meal that made Ianto doubt he’d be able to fit into his suit afterwards, she started wittering on about Alice. Apparently, Alice was a whiz at maths and loved reading, hadn’t had a boyfriend since she’d graduated high school, worked in accounting and brought in quite a bit of money a year.  “So what do you do, Ianto?” Alice said, pleasantly.

Ianto resisted saying ‘Jack’ and swallowed. “I work in a tourist office,” he said.

Jack smirked into his mashed potato as he spooned some into his mouth. “He’s very good at his job,” he commented.

 “That sounds exciting,” Alice lied.

Images of that morning ran through Ianto’s mind. Chasing weevils, watching a weevil maul Jack as he fought another one off himself, spraying anti-weevil spray at the weevil which had killed Jack, feeling completely lost as Jack lay, dead, on the ground, lifting Jack into the car, calling Tosh to let her know Jack had died, again, and that there were two unconscious weevils lying in the park that needed picking up, jumping out of his skin when Jack revived next to him ... “Not really,” he replied. “Same old stuff every day, really. I hardly even go outside the door.” He took a swig off his tea and concentrated on his food as his mother started going on and on about Alice again.

 “You two would be so great together,” his mother announced after a moment. She had never been one for subtlety, but Ianto somehow suspected Alice had known she was being set up from the first moment she had walked in. “You both have really quick minds ... and you like the same kind of books and you’re both single.”

Jack coughed.

Ianto glared at him.

Libby leant over and whispered in Ianto’s ear, “Bite the bullet.”

Ianto ignored her, continuing to listen to his mother go on and on about how a relationship between the two of them would be fabulous. “You still don't have a girlfriend, do you Ianto?” his mother asked, after a moment.

 “No, mam, but ...”

His mother cut him off. “Brilliant, then the two of you should really go on a date!”

 “Ouch!” Ianto yelped, as he was kicked by Jack and Libby under the table at the same time. “Do you mind?” he snapped at Jack, who put on a perfect face on innocence.  He rolled his eyes and looked apologetically at his mother.

 “So how about Tuesday? I can get you both a reservation at that nice Italian place ...” his mother was saying.  “I could really see the two of you falling in love... getting married... having kids.”

Jack glowered darkly at Ianto’s mother in the exact same moment as he did.  Even Alice was struggling now, he could tell by the expression on her face. His mother was going over the top. “It’s now or never,” his sister hissed in his ear.

 “I really don't see that happening, Mam,” Ianto said. Alice looked hurt, but his mother just looked irritated.

 “Well, I don't see why you can’t try it ... you said you don't have a girlfriend, so give love a chance and ...”

 “Mam! I’m in love with Jack!”

There, he’d said it. Not the way he’d planned to, for sure, but he’d said it.  Jack was beaming at him across the table, his sister was grinning from ear to ear, his grandmother seemed to be in shock and his mother was gaping.  His brothers and father had stopped talking all together.

 “You...what?” his mother gasped.

12:57

 “...and then,” Buffy said, laughing along with the group she was with and eating the last bit of her ham sandwich, “I knocked him out with the log.”

 “She was awesome,” Willow commented, grinning. “At least cave-Slayer could see a poop-head when normal Slayer couldn’t.”

“Hey,” Buffy whined. “I knew he was a poop-head,” she said.

 “No you didn’t!” Willow insisted, chuckling. “You were dreaming of saving him from a group of vampires and him arriving on your doorstep with red roses and chocolates.”

 “Oh, you weren’t?” Owen asked, laughing his head off.

 “Well, maybe once,” Buffy conceded. “But I got over him ... cave-Slayer gave me the freedom to hit him over the head with a blunt object, something I couldn’t do normally.”

 “You could have if you’d wanted to,” Willow said. “You just would have enjoyed it slightly less and would probably have been charged with assault. I would have backed you all the way, though,” she added, hastily. 

 “That’s pretty cool, B,” Faith said, drinking her beverage.  She had announced that as it was officially afternoon, she could start drinking, and was on her second glass of beer. “Even I haven’t ever beaten up a man who wronged me.”

 “That’s because you usually wrong them,” Buffy commented, blandly.  Faith shrugged.

 “I know it’s nowhere near as impressive a story to tell,” Tosh said, “but I once stole alien plans from the Ministry of Defence.” Buffy nodded at her, impressed. “It’s how I came to join Torchwood.”

 “Ooh, tell the story!” Willow insisted, already on the edge of her seat with anticipation.

 “Well ...” Tosh started, but at that moment her PDA beeped. She reached into her bag and pulled it out. “Alien space craft sighting over the Millennium centre,” she commented. “If it’s not a hoax they’re probably after us. We should go see.”

Buffy nodded and finished her coffee, leaving some money on the table as each of them got up. “Lunch is on me,” she announced, with a smile. 

13:11

The silence was deafening. No one at the table had spoken for ten whole minutes, each too shell-shocked or on edge to speak.  Ianto would have said something already if he had trusted his voice not to break.  He was glowering at Jack, who was smirking back as his foot worked its way up Ianto’s leg. As his foot touched Ianto’s crotch, the younger man jumped up from the table, slipping over backwards and landing with a sickening crunch on the floor, banging his head on the step behind him. The silence broken, Jack exclaimed, “Ianto!” and jumped up, running around the other side of the table and helping the Welshman to his feet.  He put a hand behind Ianto’s head to feel for the bump, which was bleeding, and turned the young man around so that he could look at Jack more easily.  “Are you okay?” he asked, worriedly.

 “I’m ... fine,” Ianto said, swaying on his feet as Jack held him. “Even if there are two of you.” He blinked at Jack and his vision cleared. “I’m okay ... really.” He gripped on to Jack for dear life as he felt his legs go from under him.

 “Take Ianto upstairs,” Libby commanded. “Go sit on my bed. I’ll bring the first aid kit up.” She turned and looked at the table. The people sitting at it hadn’t moved a muscle, still in shock. “Idiots,” she muttered, following Jack and the staggering Ianto up the stairs.

Once they were sat on Libby’s bed, Libby handed the first aid kit to Jack, who accepted it gratefully and tried to find the bleeding cut on his head. “Could you be any more ... inappropriate?” Ianto demanded, once he’d got full control over his speech back. “What was that stunt you were pulling with your foot? I’d just told my parents I’m in love with a man,” Ianto said, irritated. “If there was a worse time to try that, I can’t think of one.” Ianto could hear Jack grinning behind him.

 “I’ll talk them round,” Libby promised. “They’re all just prejudiced idiots, but they’ll get used to what’s what.” She smiled. “At least you finally found the courage to own up.”

 “Yeah, and look where that – Ow! – got me,” Ianto said, “Jack, be gentle. I need my head in one piece.”

 “I can tell you’re just fine,” Jack replied, smirking. “Your snark is back.” His PDA beeped and he checked it, pulling a face. “My ... friends are here early,” he said. “You know ... the ones that bring my special items?”

Ianto grimaced. “I told you not to order those.”

 “No, no, no,” Jack said, with a small laugh, “I don't mean those items ... I mean the other ones. The ones the Bufack family bring.”

 “Oh ... oh! For the wedding, I see,” Ianto said, standing up. “Let’s go greet them then.”

 “You’re leaving?” Libby asked, with an adorable pout.

 “Yes,” Ianto informed her, firmly. “But I expect you to come visit me sometime. Have you even seen my apartment since I got it?” Libby shook her head and Ianto sighed. “Well ... come and see it.”

Nodding, Libby said, “Okay, I will ... once I pass my driver’s test I’ll come over.”

Ianto smiled. “I’ll hold you to that,” he said.

13:37

 “Well that was nightmarish,” Ianto commented, as he climbed into the passenger seat of the car. He’d accepted upstairs that he wouldn’t be driving back thanks to his head wound.

 “It could have gone worse,” Jack pointed out.

 “Oh? And how could it have gone any worse than that?”

 “They could have asked about the age gap.”

Ianto glared at him and didn’t speak again until they got back to the hub. 

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