Almost Perfect

IANTO IS STAYING IN BED

Ianto Jones had a difficult second day as a woman. It started with waking up from dreams of dark, cold water and then with a shock, as though he’d fallen, spread out in his bed. And he’d forgotten, for the first few seconds, stretching out to touch the radio alarm, seeing his long, slender arm – seeing it but not noticing it.

And then he’d remembered.

Normally, Ianto Jones would wake up, swing his legs out of the bed, slope off for a pee and a shower and be out of the flat in twenty minutes. He’d have laid out his suit and shirt the night before, his lunch waiting in a Tupperware box in the fridge. It was order and a system, and he was proud of it.

But that was the old Ianto Jones. The new Ianto Jones sat in bed, wrapped in a duvet, listening to the radio babble away, staring out of the window. He didn’t even have much of a view, but he didn’t really know what else to do. He just watched the barren tops of three trees sway about in the wind like empty flagpoles.

Nearly an hour passed by. He went and stood in the shower, staring at the mirror as it steamed up and hid his new body from view. And he stood there feeling invisible and warm and hidden until he felt guilty about using that much hot water. And then he got out of the shower and dried quickly before the mirror cleared. Then he crawled back into the warmth of the duvet.

He heard the click of the door, and ignored it. He knew it was Jack standing there in his bedroom doorway, looking at him.

Neither of them spoke for a bit. Then Ianto managed, ‘I never gave you a key.’

‘And I never really needed one, but the gesture would have been nice.’

‘Ah well.’ Ianto heard Jack move across the room and felt him settle on the bed next to him.

‘Well, here am I,’ said Jack, ‘in the bedroom of a beautiful, naked Torchwood operative. Anything could happen.’

‘You realise the only word I heard was “beautiful”?’

‘I realise. I’m checking that you’re OK.’

‘What do you think?’

‘I dunno.’ Jack nodded. ‘You never even considered getting somewhere in Grangetown with a view?’

‘There are no views in Grangetown.’

‘Good point.’ Jack leaned in and wrapped a big arm around the duvet and Ianto, drawing them both in. Ianto let himself be folded up, marvelling at how much wet hair he had.

‘I miss you, you know,’ said Jack. Ianto laughed. ‘I miss me.’

‘But you’re still in there.’

‘Am I? It feels less and less like me. This body just gets more and more perfect. I can almost sense it – it hates me. I don’t belong inside it. I’m the wrong soul in the driving seat.’ He looked across at Jack.

‘If the real owner is somewhere out there in your body, she’s not shown up. Nothing.’

‘It’s at times like this,’ sighed Ianto, ‘we need Tosh.’

‘Oh yeah,’ said Jack.

‘Apart from the whole science bit, she had some great jackets.’

‘Oh yeah,’ said Jack. He stood up and reached out his hand. Ianto took it. ‘Come on, Miss Jones. Let’s put on some clothes and face the day.’