Huge thanks and much love to everyone who has read and reviewed- the response to the last chapter was incredible! This one is for everyone who has reviewed so far; hope you enjoy!

Super-special thanks to my fabulous beta Amethystbutterflys xxx

Disclaimer: The opinions expressed in this chapter are those of the characters and do not neccessarily reflect either my opinion or the actual truth. Just remember, it's Owen. He's an irreverant kind of guy.

x

24 Hours To A Wedding (Give Or Take)

x

Ianto's legendary focus was tried to the limits the following day as he fought to concentrate on his work whilst a battalion of butterflies in army-issue boots with steel toecaps danced the light fandango (badly) in his stomach. The situation was only partially helped by the encouraging texts he received from Tosh, Owen and Gwen:

'Good luck tonight sweetie! I'll be thinking of you xxx'

'Hope everything goes ok tonight! I wish I could have helped you out.'

'Fuck the lot of 'em, Jones! If they notice he's a bloke, just top up their glasses and they'll swear he's the Pope by tomorrow.'

Owen's text in particular had eased the butterflies, and the Welshman had laughed as he had texted back:

'The Pope, Owen? Really? In a ballgown? With DD-breasts?'

The reply had made him laugh still more:

'Just another Friday night in the Vatican.'

Thanks to the support of his coterie, Ianto was feeling a fair bit better by lunchtime. In the event, this was a good thing, because he received quite a shock at reception on his way out to grab a sandwich.

"Have you got a moment, Ianto?" Carys Fletcher, their receptionist, called out. "Only these just came for you and I wondered if you wanted them putting in water?"

Reaching below the desk, she produced an elegant bunch of white carnations, their feathered petals fringed with deep purple. Ianto gasped, caught by surprise. Gwen- it had to be. She was the only one who knew those were his favourites.

"Um, yeah, please, thanks," the Welshman stuttered, staring at the flowers.

Carys laughed. "I'll just find a vase for you," she said. "Aren't you going to open the card?"

Ianto blinked. "Card?"

The receptionist laughed again, pointing out where it was nestling in the cellophane wrapper.

Nodding his thanks, Ianto slid the little envelope out carefully, watched closely by Carys- clearly she had no intention of finding a vase until she knew who the flowers were from.

Inside the envelope was a small card with an elegant silver floral design on the front, but Ianto barely paused to admire it before flipping the card open. The writing which stared back at him was not Gwen's familiar quick scrawl, but careful and elegant copperplate handwriting.

"Written by the shop," Ianto muttered as he took it in.

Carys clicked her tongue impatiently. "Yes, but what does it say?"

Ianto raised an eyebrow at her then turned his attention back to the card:

'Just relax- tonight will go fine. No-one will guess, you WON'T see you ex, and you WILL have fun. So keep smiling, gorgeous, that frown doesn't suit you. PS. This isn't romantic; it's reassuring xxx'

"Well?" Carys demanded, grinning at the expression on Ianto's face. "From someone special?"

Ianto smiled, the butterflies settling in his stomach. "Yeah," he said. "They are."

By the time six pm rolled around the butterflies were back in force. Rhiannon had demanded that he be early for the rehearsal dinner, and Jack was due to pick him up any second.

As he paced the flat impatiently, Ianto glanced at the carnations and smiled. Bless Jack; it was so thoughtful of him…

The thought had scarcely passed through his mind when the doorbell rang, and he rushed to answer it.

Once again, he was knocked for six by the stunning blonde who appeared as the door swung open. This time Jack had decided on black with silver accessories and smoky eye make-up. Tonight's dress was tighter than Wednesday's, hugging a sexily curvy figure. Slender straps criss-crossed across the back to hold up the slightly plunging neckline, which was just low enough to hint at the cleavage below without revealing that the cleavage in question was in fact silicone. The hemline was even, and the material fell from the hips in soft folds which skimmed the tops of Jack's calves without revealing his masculine knees. The outfit was completed with elegant silver jewellery, a silver clutch bag, and… battered navy denim converse.

Ianto choked and raised an eyebrow. "Converse, Jack? For a black tie dinner?"

The vision in front of him laughed. "I'm driving," he reminded the Welshman. "Ever tried driving in stilettos? I can assure you, it isn't good. For your nerves, the shoes, or the car. Don't worry though, gorgeous, the real shoes for the dinner are in the car."

Relieved, Ianto smiled, checking his watch. "Ah, I see. Well, on that note, WOW. And you're right on time."

Jack laughed. "Cherish the moment, gorgeous," he said. "It won't happen again."

"Can it happen tomorrow?" Ianto asked. "Please? Rhi will kill me if I'm late for the ceremony."

Jack chuckled. "Well, ok. I think I might just about be able to manage that. Anyway, speaking of being on time… Shall we?"

"One moment," Ianto said.

Leaving Jack standing at the door, he headed back into the flat and picked something up from the kitchen table (which was, astonishingly enough, still standing.)

Back at the door, he presented Jack with the object with a shy smile.

"To say 'thank you' for the flowers," he explained. "That was a lovely thought. But how did you know they're my favourites?"

Jack raised an eyebrow at him and they answered in unison: "Gwen."

"I didn't ask her though!" Jack hastened to add. "She got sent flowers and so we got talking about them. Owen likes snowdrops, apparently."

Ianto blinked. "Does he?"

Jack looked guilty. "Oops, was that meant to be a secret?"

Ianto grinned wickedly. "No. No, it's not meant to be a secret at all."

Jack laughed. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

The wicked grin grew. "Such a pity snowdrops are out of season…" Ianto mused.

Jack laughed again, then his face softened as he looked down at the single sapphire-blue rose in his hand.

"Thank you," he said, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to Ianto's cheek. "It's beautiful."

The Welshman blushed at the kiss. "Yeah, well…" he murmured. "So are the carnations. Anyway," he added with more composure, "here."

Bringing his other hand round from behind his back, he produced a tall bottle half-filled with water.

"So you can keep it fresh in the car," he explained.

Jack laughed. "So devastatingly practical!" he commented. "Is this really the same man who lasted three days with no furniture?"

Ianto chuckled, glancing at his watch. "No, this is the man whose sister is going to kill him if he doesn't leave for her rehearsal dinner now."

"Ianto!" Rhiannon's greeting was enthusiastic, and the Welshman smiled as he hugged his elder sister.

"You look gorgeous, Rhi."

"Of course I do," Rhiannon said breezily, kissing his cheek. "I'm the bride."

Releasing her brother and letting him move on to greet Johnny, she turned her attention to his companion.

"And you must be Jacqueline. I've heard so much about you."

Jack smiled. "Oh dear," he said huskily. "Should I start running?"

Rhiannon glanced down at his feet, encased in their delicate strappy silver sandals, and raised an eyebrow. "In those shoes?"

"You're right- I'll just stand here and use Johnny as a human shield."

Johnny frowned. "Why me?"

Jack grinned. "You're the groom- she's not gonna kill you until after the honeymoon sex."

Laughter circulated the group, then Rhiannon turned back to Jack, her expression growing grim.

"Ianto tells me you're not a couple... Why not? My brother not good enough for you?"

"Rhi!" Ianto hissed, mortified.

Jack cast a reassuring smile at the scarlet Welshman then focused on Rhiannon. "Your brother is very special, Miss Jones, and I'm blessed to have him as a friend. But we're both getting over difficult break-ups and we need some time and space to do that before we start dating again."

Rhiannon nodded, accepting the explanation, before turning away to greet her next guests. Relieved that the third degree was over for the moment, Ianto linked his arm through Jack's and drew the American away.

"Nicely put," he murmured, and Jack smiled.

"Contrary to popular belief, I can be tactful when the occasion calls for it."

Ianto smiled back, glancing at his watch. "Well, we've survived Round One," he commented. "But my parents will be here any second and doubtless they'll be bringing the big guns."

Jack laughed. "We'd best stick close to Johnny then."

Ianto was about to make a jokey comment in response when Jack's expression darkened. "Holy fucking shit!" he exclaimed, staring at the door. "Kill me, kill me now."

Ianto followed his gaze to where Rhiannon and Johnny were greeting a new guest, but could see nothing amiss.

"What's wrong?" he asked anxiously.

Jack responded with a question. "How the fuck does your sister know John Hart?"

The name 'John' set alarm bells ringing in Ianto's head, and his eyes widened. "Your ex?"

Jack grimaced. "Unfortunately."

"Fuck!" Ianto swore. "Does he know about the drag?"

The American frowned. "Yes and no," he said. "I did a sexy red-headed French maid for a fancy dress party when I was with him, but I never told him that I'm a transvestite and he's never seen me blonde."

Ianto sighed deeply. "I suppose all we can do is avoid him as much as possible and pray he doesn't recognise you."

"That's gonna be hard," Jack sighed in response. "I regret to have to inform you, gorgeous, but you're just his type. Give him free reign and he'll be hitting on you all evening."

"Damn!" Ianto swore again as he noticed the short skinny blonde he presumed to be John Hart heading over. "Divide and conquer?"

Jack grinned. "I'll rescue you shortly, gorgeous."

He pressed a kiss to Ianto's cheek and slipped away to mingle just moments before Hart reached them, a leer plastered to his face.

"Well hello there, Eye Candy!" Like Jack's, his accent was American, but unlike Jack's, it grated on Ianto's nerves. "What's your connection to the wedding then?"

Ianto neatly sidestepped the hand that Hart was attempting to place on his arm. "I'm the bride's brother, and I'm straight," he said.

"Nonsense!" Hart leered, letting his hand drop to his side. "Everyone is only eight pints away from being gay."

"Then I think I'll be stopping at seven," Ianto said coolly, blue eyes already frantically searching for Jack's rescue.

The rescue, when it came, did not actually come from the American. Ianto was just sidestepping another of Hart's attempts to paw his shoulder when a familiar voice rang out over the room.

"And where's Ifan? Where's my baby boy?"

Ianto turned as scarlet as his shirt. "I'm going to bloody kill her!" he muttered, hurrying as fast as possible in the direction of the noise. The sooner he reached his mother, the greater the chance of preventing her from calling out again...