30: Thursday 1st January 2009

 

 

 

Jack went to Vienna.  He’d had several dreams about being with Ianto in Vienna so it was impossible to not go, travelling on the twenty-ninth of December as arranged, and senselessly clinging to the hope of his partner magically appearing in time for the New Year celebrations.

On the thirtieth he’d gone along to Schönbrunn Palace, exactly as Ianto had intended.  Walking around the magnificent surroundings, Jack recalled Ianto’s enthusiasm as he explained about this place, saying it was one of the first things he wanted to see.  Naturally Jack had protested, insisting that his plans for Vienna consisted of marathon sex sessions and very little else, but Ianto had met him nose-to-nose to discuss the matter.  Moments later Jack was nodding his agreement to the proposed itinerary into a passionate kiss, all he could feasibly do from where he was so firmly wrapped around Ianto’s finger.

He kept thinking he saw Ianto out of the corner of his eye, and wanted to believe in that possibility although he didn’t believe in it at all.  Without an audience to play to it was hard to be mindlessly positive.

New Year’s Eve was a depressed and wistful day; for a while Jack thought he was in danger of accepting the finality of what had happened (if not coming to terms with it) but chancing upon a tiny backstreet jewellers with a tie pin in its window that perfectly matched Ianto’s blue enamel cufflinks was portent enough to strengthen his resolve.  He bought the pin and, while the thought occurred to him, two wedding rings.  Ianto had, not so long ago, asked Jack to marry him and Jack had said yes.  So what if Ianto had since skipped the solar system, he wasn’t getting out of his commitment that easily.

Jack saw two-thousand-and-nine in on his own, standing on the balcony of his hotel room with a glass of champagne in his hand, watching fireworks explode over the city.  It wasn’t long before the anticipated calls came from his team, but he couldn’t bring himself to answer them.  There was absolutely no prospect of a Happy New Year and the words would probably have choked him if he’d attempted them.  He texted his good wishes, and didn’t read the replies.

By dawn the glass was still full, and Jack had managed to book an early flight home.

For the second time in the captain’s recent history, Vienna had chewed him up and spat him out.

 

 

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