She stood up without falling over and said, ‘Yes’.
But she wasn’t quite sure in what order. Hum. He had a really great face. You know, the kind of face that, if it didn’t belong to someone actually famous in Heat, definitely belonged to their boyfriend. It was a face that said confident, fun, shopping in New York, snowboarding and beach huts. He also looked pretty good in a suit. Really, just standing there staring now. Say something.
‘And you are?’ That was lame.
He gave her a bit of an embarrassed grin. ‘I’m Patrick. Patrick Matthews.’ Suddenly he scratched the back of his head and frowned. ‘Sorry, like you care, too much detail. Just Patrick.’ He deepened the frown. ‘Never Pat.’
‘Never,’ she vowed. ‘And?’
He looked a bit blank. ‘I’m, uh, well… My friend Ianto, she set this up. I’m your blind date.’
‘You are?’ What? ‘I mean, you are?’
He looked around, sheepish and slightly angry. ‘Er, yeah. Complex story. Why, is something wrong?’
Emma giggled and suddenly felt really, really good. ‘No, absolutely nothing. Sit down, and let’s order a bottle of wine.’
He relaxed and suddenly looked even prettier. ‘This is nice. Really nice.’
‘Yes, yes it is.’ Emma got distracted by the menu again. And a sudden thought. Who the hell is Ianto? And since when was that a girl’s name?
He peeped over her menu, grinning at her. ‘Red or white? Or shall we just get a bottle of pink fizz?’
‘Oh,’ she said, truly happy. ‘That’ll be perfect.’
At a table in the corner, Gwen relaxed and turned to Rhys. ‘I think they’ll be fine,’ she said. ‘You remember the drill?’
Rhys nodded solemnly. ‘At the first sign of him turning into a skeleton, I’m to let you know.’
Gwen smiled approvingly. ‘Good boy. Now what happened to my bread roll?’
Rhys brushed some crumbs off his jacket and shrugged. ‘I thought you were leaving it. Sorry.’
Gwen decided she didn’t actually care. It was a nice, warm night, and it looked like she was going to get through an entire meal out with Rhys without explosions, deaths or Weevils. She even risked slipping off her heels and letting her feet breathe. ‘You know what?’ she said. ‘This place isn’t actually that bad.’
‘No,’ agreed Rhys, polishing off the last of her roll.
And across town, Tombola’s was as empty as usual. Until, suddenly, twelve customers materialised out of thin air. And they were all as mad as hell.
MADONNA IS A GAY ICON FOR BEGINNERS
Jack looked round the nightclub, a little sadly.
For a Saturday night, it was early, but still rather quiet. The bar staff sulked in a corner, polishing some glasses, texting, and generally ignoring him.
He turned to Ianto. ‘It’s a bit sad, in a way, you know.’
Ianto nodded gently. He had been working through a clipboard, ticking things off happily. He was now watching a Welsh digital channel on the flat-screen. ‘It’s true what they say, you know. You can never have enough about hill farming.’
Jack finally got served, and he carried their drinks over to a table that was sticky with spilt pints.
Ianto sipped his wine and grimaced. ‘This is vile.’ He ticked a box on the clipboard.
‘I did warn you to stick to spirits,’ said Jack. ‘The worst they can do is water them down.’ He sighed again, looking round the room. ‘Could you not have left it a little fabulous?’
Ianto shook his head. ‘Sorry. No. Look, it was a fairly major operation getting the machine to untangle all those body parts and make everyone normal. Even so, there’s some poor kid in Barry who’s missing a finger.’
Jack shrugged. ‘Not our worst day. Memories?’
Ianto nodded happily. ‘Completely wiped. Never had less trouble getting people to take Retcon. I just told them all it was E.’
‘You are going to hell, Ianto Jones.’
‘Yes, Jack. But I’ll still make a very pretty corpse.’
‘That you will. Although there’s some stubble showing.’
Ianto nodded, beaming. ‘Oh yes. Last night as a woman according to the machine. Yay.’
They clinked their glasses.
‘Gwen’s already arranged to pop round tomorrow and steal all my clothes.’
‘Good old Gwen.’
‘So what about them?’ Ianto gestured to a couple sitting quietly in a corner.
They were old, almost impossibly so, shrivelled in their clothes, which hung raggedly off them, far too young and fashionable for them. Each was clutching a glass of water and looking at nothing in particular. One had the wispy remains of fine blond hair. The other sported a random thatch of dark hair. You could somehow tell they’d once been devastatingly attractive.
Jack raised his glass to them, and they looked away.
‘Sad,’ he sighed. ‘Not everyone gets a happy ending.’
‘So is that it for the Perfection?’
‘Pretty much. Completely disconnected from whatever powers they had, pumped full of Retcon. Seemed the kindest thing, really. I mean, would you want to remember? So they’re now just mutton dressed as chicken.’
Ianto sighed quietly. ‘They were gods once. They shaped worlds, ruled empires… and now they’re just growing old, trapped in Cardiff.’
‘As I said,’ said Jack, sipping his drink, ‘not everyone gets a happy ending.’
They left the club when the Karaoke started. As they headed for the door, a drag queen tottered onto the stage and began a Cher medley. A lesbian couple joined in, brokenly. And a strange little man in a cap shuffled onto the dance floor and, entirely for his own happiness, began to do the Running Man dance.
‘All’s right with the world,’ sighed Jack as he sailed through the door.
Jack and Ianto stood on Charles Street, watching the evening go by.
A hen party staggered past, their progress impeded by the number of limbs that were in plaster. A voice screamed, ‘Come on, Kerry, you dozy tart. Zambuca’s not going to be 2 for 1 forever you know…’
Ianto watched them go, smiling broadly. ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Let’s go down the Bay. I’ve got a promise to keep.’
And so they walked, in silence, until they came to a bridge overlooking a large amount of sea.
Ianto handed a small, glowing bag to Jack. ‘Can you do this?’ he asked. ‘I’m not sure I trust myself. If I touch it again, I might ask it to do something.’
‘And you’re sure this is what it wants?’ asked Jack.
‘Yes. Just some peace. It’s bored too, I think.’
‘OK then,’ said Jack. And he reached into the bag and pulled out the machine, which glowed happily in his hand. For an instant, it seemed like Jack was listening to a voice.
‘Is it offering you anything?’ asked Ianto, anxiously.
‘Nope,’ said Jack. ‘Already perfect.’ And he tossed it casually into the Bay.
It skimmed expertly across the waves, and then quietly vanished from sight.
‘Bon voyage,’ said Jack.
And the two of them stood there for a while, just watching the water.
‘So,’ said Ianto finally, turning to Jack.
‘Yup,’ said Jack.
Ianto leaned in, quietly. ‘I’m only a woman for one more night, you know.’
Jack grinned broadly. ‘Then let’s make the most of it…’
EPILOGUE: WHAT THE STRANGE ALIEN DEVICE ACTUALLY SAID TO CAPTAIN JACK
Awwww, hello! This is brilliant.
‘I should have guessed it would be you.’
Well, it is. Get used to it. I have. Anything you want to ask me?
‘Can you change that voice?’
Well, I could, but nah. Not for you, Jack-Jack-Jacko.