Title: Ghosts of Christmas Past
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Ianto Jones/Tenth Doctor
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Rating: PG
Table: 20_est_relships
Prompt: 1, Celebration
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own Ianto Jones or the Tenth Doctor. Please do not sue.

***


The Doctor looked over at the Christmas tree in the corner, the one that Ianto had insisted on buying and bringing home to decorate. They'd had fun doing it, he had to admit. The decorations looked lovely, the lights and ornaments blinking merrily in the lamplight.

Christmas was a time when he should feel cheerful, but for some reason, this year, he was having a hard time dredging up the required "hail fellow well met" attitude. Something always seemed to go wrong around this time of the year ....

He'd always loved Christmas as humans celebrated it. There was something comforting about it, the feeling of home and family. Maybe that was why he gravitated towards it, especially in recent years -- because he didn't have a real home any more.

No. That was ridiculous. Of course he had a home. Here, on Earth, with Ianto. He'd chosen to make his home with the man he loved.

He was still a traveler, still a Time Lord -- he always would be. He could never stop traveling, never stop being what he was. That was one of the legacies of Gallifrey, one that he would carry with him until the day he ceased to exist. A legacy that he was proud of.

He was the last of the Time Lords. The only one left; the only person alive who could remember Gallifrey and keep it alive in his memory. He had responsibilities that he couldn't turn his back on, even if he'd made a life here on Earth with a human.

Why did he still have this nagging feeling in the back of his mind that the Master was still around? There was some sixth sense that told him the other man was somewhere around, that he would never quite disappear from the Doctor's existence.

And, truth be told -- did he really want that? He'd been devastated when the thought the Master was dead. Did he actually want him back? Did he want that kind of menace to the world on the loose again, once more a part of his life?

He didn't really know. It was so hard to answer that question, because he was torn in two such different directions.

Part of him loved the Master. Not loved as in a mate, a lover -- but as another Gallifreyan, someone who'd been his friend long ago, someone who'd known him since he was young. Someone who knew where he came from, what his home was like.

But part of him hated the other man, too -- hated what he'd tried to do to the Earth, and to other planets in the galaxy. Hated his megalomania, his insistence that he was always right and that no one should try to fight him.

Above all, he hated what the Master had tried to do to him.

He should rise above that, the Doctor chided himself, especially during this season. Christmas was no time for holding grudges. But there would always be a part of him that seethed with anger over the Master's treatment of him -- a part that wanted to get even.

Not very magnanimous of him, he conceded, but at least the emotion was honest. He wasn't going to hide how he felt if they ever met again, either.

Why was he thinking of the Master, anyway? Those weren't very pleasant thoughts to be having at Christmas. Though it hadn't been long before this season when he'd thought that the other Time Lord had left this world forever ....

He shook his head, determinedly trying to clear away the memories that crowded into his head. That time of his life, that "year that never was" -- he didn't want to remember it. This was a season for celebrating and happiness, not regrets.

Ianto had planned some sort of Christmas celebration with the members of Torchwood, and he really was looking forward to that, even though it meant spending time with Jack. His friendship with the immortal was still a bit strained, but they were learning to cope with it.

Was Jack a bit jealous that he was with Ianto? That was what it seemed like to the Doctor -- but he didn't quite understand it. He wasn't jealous of Ianto's former relationship with Jack, so why should the immortal have a problem with theirs?

He shook his head, smiling a little. It was just one more thing about humans that he didn't really understand. Not knowing about them in some ways was what made them so fascinating.

The Doctor tried to turn his thoughts towards the coming party that Ianto had told him about, what it would be like to spend time with all of the Torchwood members outside of their workplace. It would be interesting -- and he was sure to find out more about each one of them.

They were almost starting to seem like his family, in a way. Since they were the most important people in Ianto's life, they'd become the same for him, by extension. He was even becoming more comfortable about being in contact with Jack more often.

Of course, the immortal still frightened him, in a way -- and probably always would. He saw in Jack something that wasn't natural, something that was never meant to be, and he couldn't help pulling away from that perception.

But he was more able to cope with it now. Jack wasn't his companion any more. Their lives had taken divergent paths, and a part of him was glad of it.

And besides .... he had Ianto now. He could hold that thought to his heart, secure in the knowledge that he was with someone who loved him and wouldn't leave him. Finally, after all the long years of his life, the centuries of loneliness, there was someone permanent.

A knock on the door made his head jerk up, the memories falling away like a fading mist. The Doctor got up and went to the door, only hesitating a moment before opening it. It was far too early for people to get here yet ....

Ianto was standing at the door, his arms full of packages. "Help me?" he said, his blue-grey eyes meeting the Doctor's. "I thought I could carry everything up from the car in one go. Obviously, I overestimated my abilities a little."

"Just a little," the Doctor laughed, taking some of the gaily wrapped boxes that Ianto held out to him. "Why didn't you tell me you'd need help? I would have gone along with you."

"I thought you might need a bit of time to yourself, to get used to the idea of all my co-workers landing upon you in one go," Ianto told him, starting to arrange the boxes beneath the Christmas tree. "Are you up to it?"

"Of course I am," the Doctor said softly, kneeling beside Ianto and helping to stack the presents. He was actually starting to feel more cheerful, more in the mood for a celebration. The idea was appealing to him more and more.

It was past time for him to shake off his memories of the past. Christmas was a time to be among friends, to be happy, and to concentrate on the good things in life. And he certainly had enough of those good things, more than most people did.

Just as the two of them stood up, there was another knock on the door. Ianto and the Doctor turned to look at each other, their gazes locking. "Ready to greet the first of the madding crowd?" Ianto asked with a smile, his glance going to the door.

"As ready as I'll ever be," the Doctor told him, taking a deep breath and running a hand through his hair, hoping that he looked as though he was prepared for a good time.

***