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amulyTitle: Gwil's Guide to Growing Up Torchwood: Chapter 10
Pairing: Jack/Ianto, Gwil
Word Count: 3,452
Rating: PG
Summary: When a seven-year-old boy falls through the Rift, Ianto and Jack decide to adopt him. This is the story of his life at Torchwood.
Chapter Summary: Gwil joins a kid's footie team
Warnings: none
A/N: 1.] Week from hell almost over! Just working on polishing up the personal research statement, then all of my applications are off, and I'm done. 2.] I played soccer – or “football” – once when I was like, eight. And I'm American. So let me know if there are glaring football issues in this chapter. 3.] Look at my amazing knowledge of Wales, entirely gleaned from Wikipedia!!
Previous Chapters:
Prologue
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9
Jack swung the wheel to the right, almost two-wheeling the SUV around the corner. The other two passengers in the car flew to their lefts, propelled by centrifugal force.
“Jack!” Ianto was gripping the above-window handle in one hand and Jack's thigh in his other. “Don't you think you should drive a little more cautiously with Gwil in the car?”
Jack glanced in the backseat through the review mirror, shooting the wide-eyed boy a grin. “We don't want to be late to his first footie practice, do we? And besides: he's fine. Aren't you, champ?”
A whimper drifted up from the backseat, but then Gwil's tiny voice piped up: “Yes, dad.”
Jack ignored the look he knew Ianto was shooting him, as he pushed the car up over a curb and onto the grassy parking lot before the football field. The car skidded to a halt over moist grass, clumps of dirt spattering against the wheel-well. Jack ignored another look being sent his way and hopped out of the car, greatcoat billowing out behind him in the slight breeze of the cool almost-summer day.
Ianto was already around back, hauling two chairs and a cooler out of the boot, while Jack opened the back door and held his hands out to Gwil. “Come on, little man. Let's get you to practice.”
Gwil undid his seatbelt and crawled along the seat, allowing Jack to scoop him up and plop him onto the grass. Gwil stared down for a moment, lifting his feet in turn and watching as the cleats sunk into the moist dirt. He started stomping slowly, kicking up grass and mud with increasing delight.
“Gwil. Manners.” Ianto shoved the bundle of chairs into Jack's arms as he reached down and grabbed Gwil's hand, adjusting the cooler in his other. Immediately Gwil stopped stomping, following Ianto calmly over to the coach.
Jack set up their chairs in a prime position on the sidelines, grinning broadly at the other parents doing the same. He knew he and Ianto made an odd couple: not only were they same-sex – thankfully, not as problematic as it used to be, though still liable to raise a few eyebrows – but Jack knew he looked ten (certainly not fifteen) years older than Ianto. Plus, with him in his greatcoat, and Ianto in a jumper, tie, and slacks, they certainly didn't look ready for a day at the football field.
By the time Jack had set up the two collapsable chairs, Ianto was squelching back over to him, heavy cooler in one hand causing him to sink slightly into the ground. He set it down between the two chairs, nodding at Jack as he straightened. “Everything's sorted with the coach. Practice runs about an hour and a half.” He nodded at Jack's wrist strap. “Remote monitoring on?”
Jack rolled his eyes, patting the chair in a brusque invitation to sit. Ianto complied, but continued to look at Jack until he nodded. “Yes, Ianto. Don't worry. Tosh and Gwen are at the Hub, remote monitoring is on, and Gwil knows to come running if he hears us call.” Reaching over the cooler, Jack took the other man's hand in his. “We're fine.”
Ianto's features were still drawn tight in a small, worried frown, but he nodded, squeezing Jack's hand in a sign of trust.
As they watched Gwil race around the field, doing wind sprints, ball-handling and goal-scoring drills, Jack felt himself relax in the cool, bright day. The clouds from the previous night had moved on, letting the sun warm the area as much as it could in early May. Warm weather was definitely on its way, though: Jack was almost tempted to take his greatcoat off and roll up his shirtsleeves. Almost.
On the field, Gwil slipped as he hefted a leg back to kick, going flying onto his rump and spraying mud everywhere. Next to him, Ianto jumped forward, stopped only by Jack's hand gripping his wrist. “Wait.”
Ianto seemed beside himself – over grass stains or concern for their son, Jack wasn't positive, though he felt it was probably the latter – but stayed seated, entire body tense. Sure enough, a moment later Gwil jumped up, laughing and holding his muddy hands out to one of the other boys on the field. He turned and scanned the sidelines, looking for his parents, until his eyes settled on the two men. Despondently he wiped at his bum, plucking at his clothes in what appeared to be an attempt at an apology to Ianto. Jack just waved vigorously, giving Gwil a thumb's up and shouting “Eye on the ball, Gwil! And feet under your head!”
Gwil, apparently bolstered by the lack of scolding over his dirty clothes, returned the wave before dashing off to the back of the line of boys, leaning to watch none-so-subtly as he waited for his next go at the goal.
Jack let go of Ianto's wrist, thumb sliding over it soothingly as he did. “See? What'd I tell you?”
“I suppose...” Ianto's expression softened as he watched Gwil chat animatedly with another boy on the team, the two of them waving their arms and kicking their legs in what seemed to be a dramatic reenactment of Gwil's tumble, though Gwil was a great deal more subdued than the other boy. “He does appear to be making friends.”
“See? And isn't that why you wanted him on the team in the first place?”
Ianto was quiet as serious eyes followed Gwil around the field. “That and the fresh air. And exercise. Can't be good for a child: being cooped up in the Hub all day.”
Jack relaxed into his little cloth chair, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Well, when he starts school in autumn he'll spend plenty of time outside the Hub.”
At the mention of school Ianto's expression immediately clouded over again. Jack cast about quickly for a change in subject. “Here,” he opened the cooler and pulled out two drinks: beer for Ianto, water for himself. “Relax a little. It's our day off.”
With seeming reluctance Ianto took the beer, cracking it open and glancing once at Jack before taking a sip. Jack grinned, taking a mirroring drink from his bottle of water. After a few more sips Ianto did seem to relax more, easing down in his chair a bit and stretching his legs out, similarly to Jack. “It's warming up,” he commented after a minute.
Jack barked out a laugh, eyes twinkling. “Look at us: saviors of the universe, talking about the weather and taking our son to football practice.”
Ianto's small but genuine answering grin warmed Jack's heart. “Never would have thought it possible.” At that moment, Jack's wrist strap beeped, and Ianto's face fell. “Spoke too soon, haven't I?”
But Jack was shaking his head as he looked at the readings. “It's just a weevil. Hang on, let me get Gwen.” Jack tapped his comm, turning slightly away from Ianto. “Gwen? Tosh? You getting this?”
Loud panting filled his ear, and a moment later Gwen's voice came through, a little too loud. “Fine! It's fine. It ran right in front of me as I was heading to interview the kid who reported the sighting from two nights ago.”
Jack frowned, turning even more away from Ianto as movement flickered at the corner of his eye. He refused to let the other man leave over something Gwen had already taken care of. They were spending this day as a normal(-ish) family if Jack had any say in it. “You're fine? No injuries, don't need to call in Owen?”
“Nope!” Gwen's voice was returning back to a reasonable volume as her breathing grew steadier. “Already hooded and in the trunk. Pink-UFO young man will have to wait a little while longer, I'm afraid. I'm taking the weevil back to the Hub now and putting it in a cell for Owen to tag tomorrow.”
Jack nodded sharply, bringing his hand up to his opposite ear. Ianto was saying something, but Jack was trying to focus on Gwen. “Sounds good. See you girls in an hour or so.” With that, Jack ended the communication, turning back to Ianto. “Alright, what did you-” Jack stopped as he noticed two women and a man standing next to Ianto, who was also standing and looking exasperatedly at Jack.
Ianto smiled weakly at Jack. “Some of the other parents came over and introduced themselves.”
The single man in the group waved a can of beer at Jack. “And we swear, it wasn't to take advantage of your hospitality. That was just a bonus.”
Turning up the charm, Jack quickly collected himself and stuck out his hand. “Captain Jack Harkness.”
The man shook it, smiling back. “Dafydd Thomas.”
Jack turned to the two women, kissing their hands in turn. One of the women blushed and preened under the attention, the other just raised an eyebrow in a “we are not amused” sort of way and glanced pointedly over at Ianto. The blushing women introduced herself as Alis Evans, and the no-nonsense one was “Llewella Talog, no relation to the actress, before you even start.”
Jack raised his eyebrows, but decided to persist in his charm. “Well, I wouldn't have thought that. You're much more beautiful than Myfanwy.” Jack shared a little secret smile with Ianto, who rolled his eyes but lips quirked all the same.
The woman gave him another knowing look, but there seemed to be a sort of good-natured dryness behind it, so Jack decided to let her be – for now. The man, Dafydd, nodded over at Ianto. “We were just talking to your partner here, asking him about the boy you've got out there. I noticed he's got that finger missing: you adopt him from a bad home?”
Ianto's eyes locked with Jack's: scared and pleading and completely at a loss. Jack hesitated for just a moment, but it was long enough for Alis to speak up. “Excuse my brother: he's got no sense. He didn't mean it to be rude or nosy: just concern for the poor dear. He must have been through a lot.”
Jack spoke up then, waving a hand dismissively. “No, nothing like that. Just a...accident on...the playground. When he was younger. It doesn't bother him now.”
Jack could see Ianto visibly relax at his response before he regained his composure. “Alis and Dafydd are brother and sister: had their sons just a few months apart from each other.”
Jack nodded, feigning interest. “Must be nice. The...” What were the relations caused in this era? Right: “...cousins must be close, being the same age.”
Alis nodded, moving a little closer to Jack. “It is nice. I'm glad they don't go to the same school, though: it'd be too much like having a sibling in your year, and that just ends up terribly competitive. The way it is, they can play with each other without the pressure.”
“Get up, Owen! You've just got a scratch! Oh, for...” Llewella sighed and turned to the adults. “Sorry, hang on.” She jogged out to the field, crouching in front of a little boy who was crying on the ground and holding his knee. A minute later she was back, throwing her hands up. “I swear, I prayed to God for boys so I'd have children who would get dirty and play rough and then grow up to be brilliant engineers, maybe work for Richard Branson. What do I get?” She waved her hand at the field, where the boy was limping exaggeratedly back into the pack of children. “A little boy who's almost certainly going to end up a twink by the time he's fifteen and a girl that wants to be a photographer.” The women sighed again, then waved a hand at Ianto and Jack. “Not that I mean any offense. You two seem nice and...strapping.”
Jack laughed as he watched Ianto struggle to stifle the same reaction. “You people and your boxes...” He hesitated, glancing over at Ianto when he realized he might have said too much. “By which I mean you Welsh people. I'm from...California.”
Llewella shrugged, seemingly unconcerned. “I know my kids, is all I'm saying. That boy is as fey as they come.” She shook her head. “Suppose I'll have to give in. Maybe next year I'll let him do the back-to-school shopping with me. Pick out some pretty...scarfs...or something.”
Once again, Alis came to the rescue, changing the subject. “That's a rather fancy car you boys have there.”
“Company car,” Ianto immediately replied. He glanced at Jack, hesitating as he drew the next sentence out slowly. “We're...civil servants...”
Dafydd snorted, nodding at the SUV. “Sure. And I'm King of Wales. You do realize you've got 'Torchwood' etched into the side of the bonnet, donch'ya?”
Jack groped around for an answer. Llewella snorted, eyes fixed on the field. “Torchwood's 'civil service'. They just fancy themselves James Bond.”
Ianto self-consciously straightened his tie as a flush rose in his cheeks. Jack made a mental note to make Ianto feel exactly as suave as James Bond when they were alone later that night. Dafydd crumpled his can and handed it back to Ianto. “You wouldn't have another to spare, would you?”
With that, the five adults seemed to come to some sort of equilibrium as they settled into chatting about all sorts and sundry, to be only occasionally interrupted by Llewella's shouts or groans of embarrassment. Dafydd and Ianto shared four more beers between them, Alis drinking perhaps half a can of stolen sips from her brother's. Llewella started smoking after checking that no one would be bothered, and proceeded to chain smoke the rest of the practice, hand pressed to her forehead with cigarette dangling between its fingers whenever Owen did something exceptionally awful. After an hour of watching Owen trip over his own feet and cry two more times, Jack had to at the very least agree with Llewella's assessment that sport was not little Owen's calling. He made a note to take video sometime and tease their Owen back at Torchwood with it.
Once the coach released the children, the parents parted ways, scooping up muddy little kids in their arms and piling them into cars. Ianto carefully patted Gwil's head, holding him at arm's length. Jack had to admit that he had managed to get exceptionally muddy. “Don't get into the SUV until I put the towel down, okay?”
Gwil nodded, big eyes looking up at Ianto expectantly. “Did you see me, tad?”
Ianto seemed at a loss for a moment, before he smiled down at him. “Yes. You did a good job. Four goals: that's more than I would have made at your age.”
Gwil beamed under the praise, turning to Jack. “Did you see, dad? I slipped and got muddy.” He said it almost quietly, as if he was uncertain whether or not Jack would see the joy in the situation that he did.
“You sure did!” Jack ruffled Gwil's hair roughly. “Now let your tad get you buckled up while I pack up here.” As Gwil and Ianto headed over to the car, Jack folded up the chairs, tucking them under one arm and lifting the now empty cooler with the other. He had stored them in the boot of the SUV and shut the door by the time Ianto shut the passenger door, Gwil buckled up and mud-covered body safely sat on top of a towel. The two men slid into their seats up front, and Jack started the drive home.
Gwil chattered more than Jack had ever heard him speak in one sitting on the ride back, describing in perfect detail everything he learned on the field that day: the new terms, how to kick, how goals worked, the different positions he could play, &c. Once he was finished with his report on the mechanics of football, he continued on to describe, in excruciating detail, every other child he had met and talked with. “'nd they don't even work, tad. They say they watch telly 'nd go to school. 'nd if they don't do that, they just play.”
Ianto nodded next to Jack, eyes getting that softly sad look they got whenever Gwil mentioned his days at the mill. “I'm sure they have chores, same as you.”
Gwil shook his head vigorously. “All they do is clean their rooms.” At his tad's momentary silence, Gwil hurried on. “But I don't mind my chores. I like helping you with Myfanwy and the coffee.”
As they pulled into the underground garage to the Hub, Ianto unbuckled his seatbelt and turned around. “Clothes off before you go inside. Drop them by the laundry machine. Then straight into the shower.”
Jack grinned, unbuckling as well and leaning over to kiss Ianto. “Wouldn't mind following those orders myself...”
Ianto kissed him back briefly, rolling his eyes and grinning as he opened his door. “Gwen and Tosh are inside, Jack: don't need to give them an eyeful.”
Outside the SUV, Gwil was carefully undoing his cleats, shirt already shucked off and lying in a heap next to the washing machine. Ianto squatted down to help him, yanking off the shin-guards and tube socks after the shoes came off. Shorts and pants flew off, and Gwil went racing into the Hub before Ianto could toss a towel at him. Jack grinned as the younger man sighed and started piling muddy clothes into the wash. As he reached for the Tide – grass-stain formula, specifically bought when Ianto and Jack decided to enroll Gwil in football – he nodded over his shoulder. “After him? Make sure he gets into the shower, please?”
With a quick smack to Ianto's bum, Jack was off after Gwil, ignoring the “Oi! Boots!” that followed him.
By the time he reached the main room of the Hub, Jack could hear Gwen and Tosh cooing and giggling furiously. With a sigh he jogged to catch up with Gwil, who was just heading into his office. Jack swept him up, clutching the starkers boy to his chest and wrapping his greatcoat around him. “Ladies, ladies, please! Wait until my boy is a little older before you start ogling him!”
Tosh giggled and tapped her glasses against her mouth cheekily. “I think you're rubbing off on him already, Jack. I thought you two had decided Ianto was going to be the one to influence him, for the sake of the human race?”
Jack grinned dashingly, still covering the squirming boy with his coat. “For the sake of the human race, I decided to make sure he will one day grow up to be as much of a heart-breaker as his old man.”
Gwen scrunched her nose in delight. “With a bum as adorable as his, he'll have no problems.”
Jack winked, heading back into his office and to his manhole. “Ah, but if I had a bum as adorable as his, I would have never developed my charms!” With the sound of the two female Torchwood employees giggling over Gwil behind him, Jack unwrapped the naked little boy from his coat and plopped him in front of the ladder. “Down you go. And straight into the shower, like your tad said!”
Waiting a moment for Gwil to climb down, Jack followed after him. By the time Ianto found them a half hour later, carrying a bucket filled with muddy water and looking rather put-out at Jack, the man and boy were sparkling clean, hair dripping from the shower. They were curled up on the couch with Sesame Street on, Gwil asleep in his bathrobe against Jack's chest.
“I'm only letting you out of a scolding over your muddy footprints because Gwil's exhausted,” Ianto whispered, leaning down to give Jack a kiss.
Jack smiled up at him, tugging at his hand. “Come to bed for a bit?”
With one more kiss, Ianto straightened and nodded. “Let me grab a quick shower. Get him in pajamas and put him down for a nap.” Jack stared after Ianto for a moment, before gently lifting Gwil and carrying him off to bed.
Want more? Continued in Chapter 11.
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no subject
Date: 2010-10-11 05:06 am (UTC)I lol'd so frickin' hard at Gwil following Ianto's instructions to the letter about taking off his dirty clothes before getting into the shower. Jack and Gwil snuggling on the couch afterwards was just adorable.
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Date: 2010-10-11 06:19 am (UTC)Post-shower snuggles!! *snuggles*
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Date: 2010-10-11 05:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-11 06:20 am (UTC)Indeed, streaking children were a common sight at my house growing up, so I had to include at least one scene of it in my Gwil series ^.^
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Date: 2010-10-11 07:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-11 03:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-11 07:55 am (UTC)Gxxx
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Date: 2010-10-11 05:10 pm (UTC)I imagine as Gwil grows up, we'll see his romantic life develop a bit more ^.^
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Date: 2010-10-11 12:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-11 05:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-11 10:09 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2010-10-12 12:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-12 03:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-12 03:29 am (UTC)I'm not a mom, but I do tutor a bunch of kids, so I have an iota of experience to draw from when writing this series ^.^
And it's funny you mention chatty backseat: when I first wrote this chapter, Gwil was waaaaay chattier on that car ride back. But it felt too OOC, so this is the toned down version! I suppose I can just blame the magical influence of the backseat, huh?
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Date: 2010-10-12 03:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-13 05:24 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2010-10-28 09:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-29 02:19 am (UTC)