Torchwood: Fanfic: The right fit

[m_findlow]

Title: The right fit
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack, Ianto, Owen, OC
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 1,145 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for juliet316's prompt "Any, any, wardrobe fittings" at fic_promptly
Summary: Owen's fitting wasn't quite what he was expecting.

'I don't understand why I have to get dragged in here,' Owen complained. 'I hate these stuffy places.'

Jack gave him an unsympathetic look. 'You really have to ask?'

Owen felt completely uneasy standing here in this fancy bespoke tailors shop. The minute he'd walked in here, all he could smell was the wood polish from the mahogany fittings, the plush carpet that probably got dry cleaned weekly, and that distinctive scent that lingered in the air that screamed "money". This was a place he didn't belong, and one he didn't want to belong to. 'A suit's a suit,' he said.

'A suit is not just a suit,' Ianto said, sounding horrified.

'Maybe from where you're standing,' Owen grumbled. Not everyone gave that much thought to what they wore every day. He imagined Ianto was already salivating at the thought of fabric swatches.

Jack grabbed Owen by the elbow and squeezed it harder than was necessary, leaning in to say something so that Ianto wouldn't hear. 'Just this once can we not have an argument about everything, alright? You're the best man, so you're gonna dress like the best goddamn best man that has ever lived, because this is our wedding, and for Ianto's sake, I want everything to be just perfect. Got it?'

Owen tugged his arm out of Jack's vice like grip. 'Yeah, yeah. Whatever Teaboy wants, Teaboy gets.' He looked around, seeing no one else in the shop. 'They on a lunch break or something?'

'It's by appointment only,' Ianto replied, standing by the counter and ringing the small desk bell.

'Great,' Owen muttered.

When the man in the three piece suit appeared, greeting Ianto by first name, the accent caught Owen off guard. He expected some posh chap who'd never even seen a chav like Owen. Instead it was a thick Welsh accent, like he'd just come up from the mines and was off for a pint.

'Good to see you again, bute,' the tailor said, shaking Ianto's hand before greeting Jack and Owen.

'A pleasure to meet you, sir,' Jack said, pumping his fist. 'It's nice to meet the man who keeps my fiancé looking as good as he does.' Jack grabbed Owen in a headlock. 'Think you can work your magic on this scruffy thing?'

'Geroff,' Owen complained.

'Why don't we come over here and I can take down his particulars?'

'There you are, Owen,' Jack grinned. 'Not often you get an offer that good.'

'Ianto, I've got yours and Jack's hanging in the next change room if you want to try them on. Should be a perfect fit. They're based on the same measurements from last time.'

'I did try to lose a pound or two,' Ianto confessed, 'but I'm sure they'll be fine.'

Owen watched as Ianto brought the two sets of suits out of three change room handing one to Jack.

'You know they say it's bad luck to see your intended before the wedding day,' Jack said, fingering the fine red silk of Ianto's new waistcoat.

'Even worse luck if your suit doesn't fit right,' he replied. Not that it wouldn't.

'Alright, son,' the tailor said, turning to Owen with his measuring tape. 'Let's check you out.'

Owen cringed at having to stand there whilst a complete stranger ran a measuring tape up and down his inner thigh. This was a whole other level of touchy feely.

'Ianto, I don't know how you do it,' the tailor said.

'Do what?' he replied, coming out as he was slipping on his jacket.

'The measurements you gave me over the phone last week were bang on. Centimeter perfect. Are you sure you're not a tailor by trade?'

He shrugged nonchalantly. 'Just a good eye, that's all.'

'Well, let's get that suit on you and take a look at it,' he said to Owen.

Whilst he went to fetch Owen's suit, Jack came out of the dressing room, bedecked in his own. Owen watched the look on Ianto's face. If he was this ridiculously happy now, Owen could only imagine what the pair of them would be like on the big day.

'What do you think?' Jack said, giving a twirl. He'd left off the jacket so that they got a good look at the midnight blue silk of his waistcoat. 'I mean, I know I look good, but-' He didn't get to finish the sentence because Ianto grabbed his face and kissed him hard. 'That good, huh?' Jack said, chuckling as they finally broke apart. 'You're not so bad yourself,' he said, tracing the edge of the lapel.

'Get me a bucket,' Owen said.

'Try that on, son,' the tailor said, returning with Owen's suit. 'I know you said silver, Ianto, but I went a shade darker on the waistcoat.' He held it up for inspection.

Ianto beamed. 'It's perfect. You always have good taste.'

Whilst Owen began changing clothes, the tailor went over and double checked the finer details of their own suits. 'You could have been your father's apprentice,' he said to Ianto, admiring the perfect line of Jack's pants.

'Wasn't meant to be,' he said.

'I always wished your dad had told me he was struggling,' the tailor said, expertly wrapping the words around the pins in his mouth, making tiny adjustments to the shoulder of Jack's jacket.

'He was too proud,' Ianto replied. 'Never asked anyone for help and hated owing anyone anything.'

'Sounds like someone I know,' Jack teased. 'Like father, like son?'

'Not the worst trait to inherit,' Ianto said.

The tailor returned to check on Owen's suit once he was happy that there was nothing else to be done for the other two. He gave a tug on Owen's lapels, setting them down a notch. 'I said he should come and partner me when I first started out, but I guess he thought going into business was a risk and he wanted to make sure he kept a roof over your heads. He was a good man, your dad. Wish he could see you now.'

'I'm not sure what he'd think, to be fair,' Ianto said, slipping off the jacket and carefully hanging it back up.

'He'd be bloody proud of you, that's what,' the tailor said. 'Saving the world every other day.'

Owen nearly gagged. 'You mean you know?'

'Course I know,' he said. 'Nobody ruins that many suits without a bloody good explanation. Ianto's been keeping me in business for years. No one else appreciates the difference a good quality suit makes. It's all high street rubbish nowadays.'

Ianto blushed at that. 'I do try to be careful. It's just the job.'

'Well, this suit only has one use,' Jack said, 'and that's to make me the happiest man on earth.'

Owen groaned at the soppy overtures. 'Better make sure Jack's has extra room in the front, then.'