"To Have and To Hold" by riftintime

Summary: With marriage reaching epidemic proportions amongst those in his life, former model Jack Harkness decides it's time to settle down and tie the knot too. The only problem is he needs to find someone to marry. Enter quiet, stoic Ianto Jones, owner of Myfanwy's bakery and coffee shop. There's just one small hitch. Ianto is heterosexual. Jack/Ianto AU.

Pairing: Jack/Ianto

Rating: NC-17/Adult

Genre: Romance

Warnings: Explicit sexual situations and adult themes, coarse language.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters created and owned by the BBC. No profit is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author's Notes: This is an alternate universe story, using some of the Torchwood and Doctor Who characters, and set in the normal, alien-free world.

Here's my next Jack/Ianto AU story. I hope it's enjoyable. Please take the time to review and let me know what you think. With Torchwood fan fiction waning, reviews are vital to encourage the remaining authors to keep writing and posting. So much time and effort goes into these stories, so please consider giving something back. Even just a few words is very much appreciated.

My thanks and gratitude to blackcat1000 for always so generously taking the time to read my efforts, provide feedback and encouragement, and for pointing out my typos and grammatical errors.

Enjoy...

Chapter One

It was an unremarkable Friday morning in the last week of March when Jack Harkness dropped his bombshell. "So, I've decided I'm going to get married."

The effect on his companion was immediate and startling, and it might have been almost comical if Jack wasn't completely serious. Owen Harper blinked, swallowed, then started choking on his coffee, gaining the attention of the people sitting at the nearby tables. Fighting back a grin, Jack reached across the small table and gave his best friend several solid thumps on the back.

Owen muttered a typically colourful diatribe as he recovered, his eyes narrowing to slits as he glared at Jack. "I think I need to get my hearing checked. What did you just say?"

Unperturbed, Jack took an appreciative sip of his double-shot espresso and reiterated his declaration. "I said I'm going to get married."

Owen shook his head as if trying to dislodge a blockage from between his ears. "You proposed to that tosser you've been shagging? Have you lost your bloody mind?"

Jack frowned in confusion. It took him a moment to realise Owen was referring to John Hart, the man who had been frequenting Jack's bed on and off for the past couple of months. John was hot as hell, and the sex was some of the best Jack had ever had, but the man was a narcissistic bastard and, in Jack's firm opinion, a borderline sociopath. Outside of the bedroom, they couldn't stand to be around each other for more than five minutes – the man barely had to utter half a dozen words before Jack experienced an urgent desire to punch him in the nose. "John Hart? No, of course not. I'm not insane."

It was Owen's turn to look confused. "Am I missing something here? Who are you going to marry, then?"

Jack shrugged. "I don't know yet. I'll find someone. It can't be that hard. People get married every day."

Owen gaped at him. "Hate to break it to you, mate, but you are insane. Completely stark raving mad, and that's my professional opinion as a doctor. You can't just wake up one day and decide you're going to get married."

"Why not?" Jack took another sip of his coffee. "Everyone's doing it these days. Why can't I?"

It made perfect sense as far as Jack was concerned. He might not have been with anyone, man or woman, who could be described as potential marriage material, but that was because he hadn't been looking for the right kind of person. He simply needed to adjust his criteria and find someone who appealed to him not only sexually, but on an emotional level as well.

For all of his adult life, he'd been content with random hookups and the occasional more regular bedmate, John Hart being the latest example. He'd never been interested in love or romance or relationships; his only criteria was how attractive he found the person and how good they were in bed. With his focus on his career – formerly in front of the camera as a sought-after male model, then later behind the camera as a successful photographer – he'd never desired anything more than the satisfaction of his physical needs. He'd stubbornly shunned conventionality, and he wasn't ashamed to admit he'd never dated or been serious about anyone. He'd never seen the point in what he considered to be quaint mating rituals.

He had no regrets. He'd worked hard to achieve the financial security he now enjoyed, he'd had fun on his terms as it suited him, and having recently turned thirty-two, he was still young and in his prime. Nonetheless, he wasn't getting any younger, and the events of the last few months had caused him to do some soul-searching and reluctantly reach the conclusion that something was missing from his life.

It had begun three months ago when his younger brother, Gray, had gotten married in Seattle, tying the knot with his partner, Ryan. The pair had met while studying together at law school, become best friends, fallen in love, and been inseparable ever since.

A month later, back home in Cardiff, Wales, Owen had tied the knot with Katie, a former patient of Owen's and a woman who, Jack quietly believed, was deserving of nothing short of sainthood. He loved Owen like a brother, but the good doctor wasn't exactly known for possessing an easygoing nature or sunny disposition. Owen had mellowed considerably since settling down with Katie, however, and Jack had to admit that love clearly agreed with his brusque, ill-mannered best friend. Ironically, Owen had been just like Jack, but then he'd fallen for Katie and, almost overnight, he'd eschewed his playboy ways for the sanctity of commitment and monogamy.

Then, just one month ago and this time in London, another of Jack's long-time friends, Doctor John Smith, had married his research assistant, Rose Tyler. The pair were currently travelling the world on their honeymoon before settling down in New York, where John had been awarded a research fellowship at the prestigious Torchwood Institute.

Jack wasn't sure when he'd become the star in some ridiculous romantic comedy, but all of a sudden it seemed like everyone he knew was married and deliriously happy. Meanwhile, he was still the carefree Lothario he'd always been and now the odd man out. Even his seventy-year-old neighbour, Estelle, with whom he shared ownership of a exceptionally handsome cat by the name of Moses, had recently become engaged to an old flame and was planning to wed later in the year.

Witnessing his friends and loved ones beginning a new phase of their lives, Jack had been struck by an unexpected bout of melancholy. As he'd thought about the future, he'd realised that his current path was a bleak and lonely one. He didn't believe in fairy tales or sentimental notions like finding a soul-mate or one-true-love, nor was he wanting the proverbial white picket fence and two-point-five kids, but he also didn't want to end up old, alone and wallowing in regret. Being both an optimist and a pragmatist, he'd settled on the idea of finding someone special. If Owen could do it, then so could he. He just needed to apply himself to the problem with his usual determination.

Owen was still staring at him as if he'd sprouted a second head. Undeterred, Jack gave him a broad grin. "After all, you found the only person on the planet who's willing to put up with you, all without even trying." He waved a hand at himself. "Look at me, I'm a catch. Once word gets out I'm on the market, I'll have suitors lining up around the block."

Owen responded with a derisive snort. "Despite what you think, Jack, looks aren't everything. So, what are you going to do? Put an ad in the paper? Join some online dating sites? Last time I looked you can't buy yourself a spouse on Amazon or eBay."

As usual, Jack chose to ignore Owen's gibes. He snapped his fingers as a thought occurred to him. "Hey, what about that cute doctor friend of yours we had a drink with once? What was his name? Adam someone?"

"Yeah, Adam." Owen's shook his head. "Sorry, mate. He got engaged a few weeks ago."

Jack felt his eyes widen in disbelief. "Damn. Is there a marriage epidemic going around I don't know about?"

Owen barked out a laugh. "Maybe it's something in the water. Must be – I never thought I'd see the day when you started spouting on about getting married." He swallowed a mouthful of coffee, concern replacing the humour in his eyes. "Look, Jack. I know I haven't been around much lately, what with the wedding and the honeymoon and my hours at the hospital..."

Jack was quick to give a dismissive wave of his hand. He missed spending time with Owen like they'd used to, but he didn't begrudge Owen his new-found happiness for a moment. "I'm fine, Owen. You don't need to worry about me."

Owen didn't look convinced, but he gave Jack a glimmer of a smile. "Just don't rush into anything, yeah? Don't latch onto the first person you find because you're feeling a bit lonely."

Jack nodded in agreement and continued to drink his coffee.

###

Several hours earlier on the same Friday morning, Ianto Jones hurried in through the back door of the bakery, cursing himself for sleeping through his alarm and partaking in an extra twenty minutes of much needed sleep. He hated being late under any circumstances and always prided himself on his punctuality. He also hated the thought of letting down his underpaid co-worker and best friend.

"Morning, boss." Rhys offered his usual cheerful greeting before turning on one of the pair of industrial-sized mixers, readying the first batch of bread dough for the day.

"Morning, Rhys." Ianto gave the other man a tired smile as he hung up his jacket, rolled up his shirt sleeves, then donned his apron. "Sorry I'm late. Everything all right?"

"Yeah, of course. Nothing to worry about." Rhys paused in his preparations of the next batch of dough and gave Ianto a concerned frown. "You okay, mate? You look like something the cat dragged in."

"Thanks." Ianto's tone was dry. "Just what I needed to hear."

Rhys narrowed his eyes. "You can't burn the candle at both ends, Ianto. And I'll bet you haven't had any breakfast."

"No, not yet." Ianto regretted that he hadn't taken time for a quick cup of coffee before leaving his flat. A dull ache had taken up residence in the back of his skull from the combination of lack of sleep and the absence of caffeine in his bloodstream. "I'll have something a bit later."

The admonishing look from Rhys spoke volumes. "I'll make us some coffee." He moved towards the doorway leading to the front half of the shop, still shrouded in darkness since it was barely half after five. "Remember, you're coming over for dinner tonight. I'm making lasagne. Need to get at least one decent meal into you for the week."

Ianto rolled his eyes with tolerant affection and began checking the kitchen was clean, orderly and ready for the day ahead. He knew Rhys was convinced he'd starve to death if he wasn't regularly filling him with food. Not that he was complaining and, sad as it was, a couple of hours in the company of Rhys, a home-cooked meal, maybe a beer or two and something mindless on the telly was the social highlight of his week.

Firm friends since their second year of high school, the two of them could hardly be more different in terms of looks, temperament or personality. Rhys Williams was big in both height and girth, cheerful and outgoing, with neither a shy nor reticent bone in his body. In contrast, Ianto was tall but lean, quiet and introspective. Rhys also happened to be the most loyal and kind-hearted person Ianto had ever known. Both fiercely proud Welshmen, with a shared history of growing up in poor, working-class families on neighbouring council estates, they'd struggled through their formative years together, somehow managing to keep each other sane and, for the most part, out of trouble. Amongst other things, they shared a love of food preparation – although Ianto's passion was baked goods in the form of breads, cakes and pastries, whereas Rhys's interest encompassed a more diverse range. Although not formally trained, Rhys could turn his hand to many culinary endeavours with a great deal of success.

They'd taken different paths after high school, but their friendship hadn't faltered as the years passed. Ianto was now twenty-eight and single, having broken up with his most recent girlfriend, Lisa Hallett, a little over eighteen months ago. Rhys had recently turned twenty-nine and was in a steady, live-in relationship with his police constable girlfriend, Gwen Cooper.

Six months earlier, Ianto had returned home from a year of studying and working in Paris and begun to put into motion his plan to open his own bakery. He'd been delighted when Rhys had offered to join him in the endeavour, giving up his job as a driver for a local haulage company, despite the low wages along with the insanely early mornings and relentless workload. In hindsight, Ianto couldn't have gotten this far without Rhys's help or support, nor would he have enjoyed it nearly as much. No matter how gruelling and stressful the ownership and operation of a small business, he enjoyed being able to spend his days working alongside his closest friend. The only downside was the additional pressure – he wanted the business to be a success not only for himself, but for Rhys as well.

Myfanwy's was the realisation of Ianto's dream. He'd put nearly everything he had into making the bakery and coffee shop a reality, and he was all too aware of the risk he'd taken on. Three months in, and every day still felt like a struggle to succeed. He'd known the first twelve months would be especially difficult – competition was fierce and the statistics weren't on his side – but even so, there were days when he couldn't help wondering if he'd made a terrible mistake. Those were the days when he was even more grateful for Rhys's unfailing optimism. With his own tendency towards pessimism – admittedly, not the best quality in a business owner – it was another of the ways in which their differences balanced each other out.

Today looked like it was shaping up to be one of those days, and being sleep deprived wasn't doing much to help his state of mind. After catching up on the relentless paperwork, he'd stayed up most of the night pouring over their raw material costings and production quantities. They were still struggling with wastage and finding the right balance of products, the classic problem being that the demand from one day to the next for any given product was unpredictable. Invariably they'd make too much of one product and not enough of another. With his determination to use the highest quality, locally sourced ingredients – which also tended to come at a premium cost – every unsold product was wasted effort and money they simply couldn't afford. And with the struggle to make ends meet, he was trying to keep their prices as reasonable and competitive as possible. Thus far, despite his best efforts, it was proving to be a frustratingly difficult balance to get right.

As he did every morning, he double-checked the storage areas and freezers, confirming that his mental inventory corresponded with what was actually on-hand. A large part of baking was about precision and quantities, and it was something he enjoyed. He'd always had a good head for numbers, and he was obsessive about accuracy.

Once satisfied that everything was in order for the day, he turned his attention to the large whiteboard on the wall beside the doorway and began writing up the day's inventory of products and quantities.

Just as he'd finished making a couple of adjustments to the list, salvation arrived in the form of a cup of strong, black coffee. Accepting it gratefully from Rhys, he breathed in the rich aroma before taking a sip of the fortifying liquid. "Mmm, perfect. Thanks, Rhys."

Rhys stood at his side and studied the board as he sipped from his own cup. He suggested a couple of changes to the quantities, which Ianto duly noted. Then, with a hearty clap on his back, Rhys gave him a grin that was far too exuberant for such an early hour. "Looks good. Come on, boss. Let's get a move on."

Stifling a weary sigh, Ianto summoned up a smile and got to work.