Torchwood: Fanfic: Lost in the mail

[m_findlow]

Title: Lost in the mail
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack, Ianto
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 513 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for m_findlow's prompt "Any, any, birthday card" at fic_promptly
Summary: Jack's patience may finally pay dividends

Ianto couldn't understand why Jack had insisted on coming back to this particular time. Two thousand and thirty two seemed an odd year to pick, and what could possibly happen here that would be of any significance?

'I don't understand,' he repeated as they stood out the front of the stately palace gates. They'd visited Buckingham Palace loads of times. What was special about coming here now?

'Why are we here now?'

'I'm here for my letter,' Jack replied.

'Letter?'

'You know, the one you get when you turn one hundred.'

Ianto looked confused, furrowing his brow.

'But you're not one hundred. I mean, not physically anyway. Well, maybe you've physically been around for, er, no that's not it. Oh, this whole immortality thing is so confusing. I don't even know how old I am anymore!' he huffed, folding his arms in annoyance. Things had been so much easier when he'd been mortal and they hadn't taken to bouncing all around space and time together.

Jack laughed at him. 'Come on, my clever husband, it's just math. When did I first become immortal and land here?'

'Eighteen sixty nine,' Ianto answered, knowing the fact by heart.

'And how old was I?'

'Uh,' he paused. Was this meant to be a trick question? 'Thirty seven?'

'So if it's two thousand and thirty two now, how old does that make me?'

Ianto pulled a face. 'That doesn't make any sense! We've been travelling across different bits of time. Two thousand and thirty two isn't even linear to our real time line anymore.'

'Forget real time lines, just do the math!'

Ianto glared at him but complied all the same. 'Okay,' he said, distracted by the changing of the guard and the many hundreds of tourists milling about, taking photos. 'So that would make you, uh, no, that's not right. That makes you two hundred.'

'And looking good for my age, wouldn't you say?' he grinned.

Ianto ignored the obvious retort which would be to remind Jack that however old he might be, he still acted like he was twelve most days.

'But the Queen writes a letter when you turn one hundred. What makes you think she's going to give you another one for your two hundredth birthday?'

'Because I never got the one for my one hundredth birthday,' he replied, as if it were obvious.

'Why not?'

'Let's just say I was unavoidably detained in nineteen thirty two.'

Ianto raised his eyebrows at Jack. 'For the whole year?' he asked, skeptical.

'And nineteen thirty three,' Jack added. 'It's a long story. I'll tell you about it sometime.'

Ianto wasn't sure he wanted to hear any more of Jack's stories, especially those that related to his early days on Earth. He always ended up wishing he hadn't asked by the end of it.

'So you've come all this way for a birthday card from the Queen?'

'It's the King now,' Jack corrected, 'and yes, I've been waiting over a hundred and sixty years for it, so I'm sure as hell not going to miss out again!'