My take on what Gwen's wedding day should have been like - if you ask me, that alien should have turned on wen after it kissed her, just to keep us fans happy. I don't know how many chapters there are going to be, but I know how it's gonna end, not that that's much help...So enjoy, and review at the end please, reviews are very important!
It was a quiet day in Cardiff, at least as far as Rift activity went. Shoppers and loiterers and young couples still thronged the main streets though, lapping up the glorious sunshine as though it was life. A perfect day for Gwen to get married. And she was going to do so, in just over three hours.
Jack was counting time on a nearby clock as he sat in the shade, as if not wanting to share in the world around him, to shut himself off from everything; to forget everything. Each tick of that clock's hands mocked him. You're too late, aren't you? It said. What're you gonna do about it? Ianto sat with him outside Costa, watching wafts of steam slowly rising from Jack's cup of hot chocolate, and feeling totally alone. The captain was also staring at it's creamy abyss, as if trying to find some deep and meaningful solution to life within.
The captain had become more morose and sullen as the past week had progressed, choosing not to involve himself with the rest of the team as they happily prepared for Gwen's wedding. He had started snapping at every little fault they made, and once even reduced Tosh to tears because a glitch in the rift had lost a minute portion of easily retrievable information that was part of a case. The whole team knew why, of course. It was written all over his face whenever Gwen talked about Rhys, or the wedding, or went home to check he was all right.
And that morning he had stubbornly refused to accept his invitation, repeating over and over that someone had to stay on duty and monitor rift activity, and as the boss it was his responsibility. As soon as Gwen left though, he donned his old RAF overcoat and stormed out like the headwind of a hurricane. Jack was cracking, even though he tried to hide it.
'Are you going to drink that Sir?' Ianto asked tentatively. 'It's getting cold.
Jack started and looked up from his reverie. His eyes were glazed and moist, though he quickly blinked that away. 'I don't like hot chocolate much,' he admitted. Ianto glanced away, the turmoil of emotions raging behind Jack's eyes too much for him.
It had been almost half an hour before when Ianto had found his boss wandering aimlessly through the streets of Cardiff, with the expression on his face that read he wanted to smash anything that got in his way. Gwen was getting married. And it was tearing him apart. Ianto carefully cajoled him to find something to eat and drink, just to calm Jack down, and had been surprised when his boss had ordered something other than coffee.
'I won't drink coffee if you didn't brew it, Yan,' he said jokingly, with that classic smile pasted a bit too broadly over his face. 'Besides, it's good comfort food.' That truly scared Ianto – Jack never needed comfort food.
The silence between them lasted far longer; Jack staring into infinity and Ianto there supporting him, comforting, as any loyal boyfriend would. People avoided them. A heavy cloud seemed to hang intangible above the two, a bubble of sucked-out happiness that was inscribed as shadows over Jack's face.
'Our Gwen's getting married!' Jack said finally, talking to the cup. His face was a crumbling façade of joy and bewilderment, as if he couldn't quite believe it. Inside he was collapsing. 'Who'd have thought it'd ever happen? A member of Torchwood going down the aisle! Ha!' he burst out into a fit of mad giggling and wouldn't stop until the clock tower chimed the quarter hour. He sobered immediately, reminded of all the time he had, all the time he thought he had for Gwen, and the reality that it had all been over in the blink of an eye. It was too late. Too late to tell her how he felt, how he had always felt. And now she was leaving with another man – still near him at work, but so far away it was like a whole other universe. He should be happy for her happiness; so why was it that all he could feel were gnarled and twisted emotions of guilt, regret, and anger? At that moment eternity seemed more cruel than usual.
'Sir?' Ianto began.
'Call me Jack today Ianto. Please,' Jack interrupted, the slight plead in his voice setting Ianto on edge. Jack never begged for anything either, even when things were desperate.
'Jack,' Ianto amended, 'why don't you go to the wedding?'
'Because, someone needs to look after the hub,' he replied sullenly.
Ianto was fast losing his patience. 'Jack, we're in the middle of Cardiff sitting outside Costa.' Jack decided to sulk and Ianto sighed with exasperation. 'Listen, Jack, go after her. Tell her how you feel.'
'And how do I feel?'
'You love her Jack, just like I loved Lisa – more than that.' This made Jack glance up. There was no need to ask how Ianto knew, the whole team had noticed with ease his violent mood swings and pining glances at his second-in-command.
'It's too late,' he muttered. 'And what about you?'
Ianto sighed. He had been thinking about this a lot recently, and it didn't take long for him to deliberate on an answer. 'I still love Lisa,' he admitted. 'If I was being honest, I would say I haven't really moved on from her.'
Jack grinned. 'Are you saying I'm a rebound?' he asked with a hint of amusement. Not much, but at least it was genuine.
'Go after her,' Ianto repeated.
'What if I make a total fool of myself?' Jack retorted suddenly. As it is, things are awkward between us, what happens if I pronounce undying love for her and she doesn't feel the same?'
'Jesus Christ Jack!' Ianto exploded. 'Is that all you've been worried about? Gwen loves you just as much – I'm amazed you weren't able to see it.'
'Then why hasn't she said anything?'
'Maybe because she's waiting for you, following your lead as she always does. And maybe a bit of guilt too,' he added, 'because of the whole Owen thing.'
Tortuous silence between them again; Ianto pleading with his eyes, and Jack slowly coming to a decision though his face gave nothing away. 'What time is it?' he asked. Ianto told him. Two hours to go. That did it. Jack remembered all those times he had tried to tell her, and his nerve had failed him. Him! Captain Jack Harkness! Who wasn't fazed by anything! This time it would be different. He couldn't let Gwen get married, not to Rhys, the last veil of the illusion of normality she had. She was Torchwood. She didn't do normal.
A steely glint of determination entered his expression, and he rose slowly and deliberately. There was no point in wasting time. He knew where the wedding was, knew every route to get to it, just in case. He didn't waste time trying to find a car. He ran.
'Tosh,' Ianto spoke into his comm., only the tiniest traces ofregret showing themselves. 'It worked.'
Gwen was standing in front of a wall high mirror, scrutinising every inch of the flowing white gown, the gossamer veil, her hair so elegantly curled and woven wit silver thread. She looked beautiful, angelic; but something was missing. Brides were meant to be happy, blushing. So why was she so pale and numb? Nerves? Pre-wedding jitters? No. No matter how hard she tried, there was one face she couldn't stamp out of her mind. Would he come? Would she follow him if he did? Or would she stay with the one she had planned on marrying? These thoughts chased round and round in her head until she wanted to just break down and be cuddled. But by who? Rhys, her fiancé, who had always been there for her even when she hadn't deserved him, and put up with all her crap and cancelled dates because of her job? Or Jack, the one person she felt she could ever pour her heart out to that would understand everything she said? Jack had been through so much, and he knew what hazards she faced everyday of her life. And still let her go out and do it because he knew it was what she loved. Some small, cynical part of her, growing larger by the minute, doubted Rhys would do the same.
But he wouldn't come. There had been too many chances for him to do that already. First when he had come back and found out she was engaged, when Rhys found out about Torchwood and she had refused to retcon him. Gwen would never be able to erase the hurt she had caused Jack with those words – regret, longing, anger, frustration, grief, torment, she had seen all of them battling behind his eyes. And love. She had seen love for her there too, though that had been the one he had tried to hide the most. But he wouldn't come. And even if he did, she told herself firmly, even if he did she would still marry Rhys, the one constant in her life, who had not gone without trace or word after some Doctor, leaving her alone with the rest of the team to face everything and anything that came out of the rift. Rhys would never do that to her.
But she had. Owen. That was who she thought about as well. Not in the same way as Jack, who kept forcing his grinning face into her thoughts, but in the guilt that still crawled over her skin and twisted her gut at the memories of his fingers on her skin, their sweat mingling. . . and her enjoyment of the whole affair. That was what got to her most.
Was this why she was marrying Rhys? Guilt? A great time to think about it, on your wedding day, Gwen, she chided herself. Yet she couldn't shake the uncertain feeling that that was exactly it. To prove to herself and the knowing world that she could be just as loyal as the man who had asked her to marry him. To Rhys. But, Jack. . .
No, she told herself firmly. Jack never said anything to you. He could have, but he didn't.
Yes, another voice drawled silkily, but you know he does love you. For all of you. Rhys definitely doesn't look at you the way he does. And that image of Jack's face when he first heard of the engagement, at her voice, from some distant plane saying 'no-one else will have me', and his thoughts crying out through his stoic face – 'didn't you know I would?'
The door clicked open behind her, and her father, all proud smiles, came gliding in.
'You look beautiful, Duckling,' he crooned. 'There's no way Rhys will be able to resist.'
'I hope so, dad,' she replied, finding some comfort in his strong hug.
'Are you ready?'
'Not yet, dad, I just need to finish my makeup.' Her dad smiled and generously left the room. She stared at the mirror again. Her eyes were glassier than usual, but there was already about five layers of mascara on already, so another wouldn't make much difference. What would he say, if he were here? She knew the real reason why she had wanted to wait. Give him more time, a bigger chance to take her away and prove what he felt for her.
No good. He won't come, the normal-loving side of her started, Rhys is better for you anyway. That voice had been getting fainter and fainter ever since she started Torchwood. She sighed. There was no going back now.
'I'm ready dad,' she called softly.
Jack had left the city centre behind him now, running so quickly past the older mining houses that everything was a blur. A woman pushing a pram yelled when he nearly collided with her, but he didn't slow, or even notice she was there. He just pushed his legs to pump harder, and look of grim determination and exertion marring his features. Please, don't let him be late. Please.
He was nearly there. There was the spire of the church, the same one she had been christened in, and he forced his legs harder. There was music erupting from the holy building like a mockery of his efforts, the frantic pulsing of his heart drowning out all unimportant sounds. He crossed a road, not even looking for traffic, and not pausing when an angered cab driver cursed at him.
There was only the church. Gwen. He had to get there in time.
Mr. Cooper led his daughter proudly down the aisle, throwing sidelong glances at her through the veil. She looked worried. Perfectly all right, he assured himself, but a little naggling fear informed him she was having second thoughts.
'Good luck,' he whispered to her as he lifted the veil over her beautiful face. What man wouldn't want to marry Gwen now? She smiled tentatively in return. It was almost sad, regretful. He shrugged off the feeling and sat down next to his wife.
The music stopped, though Gwen's heartbeat was throbbing too hard for her to notice. Would he come?
Rhys smiled at her, real warmth radiated from his features. He was completely sure about this – but it felt yet another lie to beam back at him like nothing was wrong. Jack. . .No. She was marrying Rhys. That was the end of it.
But what if he comes?
'Dearly beloved,' the priest began.
The organ had stopped. Why had the organ stopped? It was too late. He was still too far away. But Jack had sprinted hell for leather for three miles and wasn't about to give up. He growled in determination even as his body cried exhaustion. He wouldn't back down this time, not even if he had to wrestle her away from Rhys to say what needed to be said. Gwen!
Jack. . .
'We gather here today as witness to the union of Rhys and Gwen, who have chosen to sanctify their relationship in the bonds of holy matrimony, which is binding in law.' The priest paused for dramatic effect. There was some shuffling, and he continued. This was always the interesting bit. 'I am required to ask of the congregation here gathered: if there is any reason why these two here may not be joined in the bonds of marriage –' Tosh glanced nervously at Owen, who was throwing looks at the door. The same thing was going through both their minds. Where was he?
Gwen's heart was racing, more hum than thump, and it threatened to burst out of her chest like some alien parasite. Would he come? Would he come at the last minute like the hero of some story to carry her off? No. He wouldn't – he had already missed that chance a hundred times. He would; he loved her too much to let her be taken by someone else. Would he come? '- speak now, or fore-'
The doors crashed open. A man thundered in as all heads turned in astonishment. Gwen's eyes lit up with hope, bewilderment, disbelief. He was here. He had come.
'Jack. . .' she whispered.
'Hold everything!' Jack cried in a ringing tone, filling the hushed church. 'This wedding needs to stop now!' Gasps echoed round the congregation in waves. Gwen dared to hope. Rhys looked murderous.
'What the hell are you doing here Jack? Eh?' he demanded. 'You've wrecked things enough between me and Gwen – you are not spoiling our wedding!'
'Sorry, Rhys, but I'm afraid I am,' Jack retorted through grasping, sobbing breath. Three miles at full pelt was killing. 'Gwen, you look beautiful by the way.' And she did. Standing straight and tall in a white silk gown decorated with lace, all her curves were in the right places and the pale colour made her skin glow like sun through fog. Her black hair was done up in ringlets that fell softly down into the nape of her neck and over her shoulders. And those eyes. The green eyes so emotive and innocent and yet so disillusioned with the world, those eyes that Jack had first fallen for. What was that emotion dancing across her beautiful features now?
'Gwen. I need to talk to you. Now.' Seeing the staring faces crowding round, trying to listen in on Jack's strong but gentle voice, he added 'In private.'
'Oh no you don't Jack,' Rhys all but shouted. 'Whatever it is can wait till after the wedding.'
'No, Rhys, it can't,' Jack replied heatedly. Never before had he wanted to smash Rhys' face in like he did now. One solid punch in the right place could knock him out or even kill him. Oh well, one could dream. He could never hurt Rhys. Not in front of Gwen anyway.
'She's staying here!' Rhys hollered.
Jack assumed his superior-looking stance; arms crossed firmly across his chest, feet planted wide, staring Rhys down as if to say 'you can't win, don't even bother trying'.
'I think we should ask Gwen what she wants,' he said coolly.
Gwen was shocked. She had expected to have been fought over until Rhys was blue in the face and Jack had assumed that black-hole aura he got whenever he was really mad. Someone calling for her opinion was completely out of the blue, and it only made her appreciate Jack more. He listened to her, she realised, in ways that went far beyond just hearing what she said. Every little mood change in her he detected, tuned in 24/7 to what she thought and felt. Rhys wasn't. He had to always ask her what was wrong; Jack always just somehow . . . knew.
There was stunned silence for a few seconds. Rhys looked from Gwen to Jack and back again with a hopeless, knowing expression. She would go with him; she always did.
'Gwen, please,' he started.
'I'm sorry Rhys,' she murmured. Jack flashed him a brief triumphant smirk before turning and leading Gwen away, his hand placed on the small of her back to guide her.