Title: Fairytale of New York
By: Jessie Blackwood
Pairing: Jack/Angelo
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Characters owned by RTD and the BBC. I don't own any of it, except maybe the idea for the story, etc. etc. etc., no infringement of copyright intended, no money being made, etc, etc. Any resemblance to any persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
Warning: Mild references to m/m relationship. God knows if this fits into canon or not. As far as I'm concerned it called to me to write it, so here goes.
Summary: Jack and Angelo's Christmas together, if they had one. No idea if this is canon or not, but the plot bunny snuffled at me and I had to write it. My contribution for the season.

***

"And the boys of the NYPD Choir were singing Galway Bay, and the bells were ringing out at Christmas time"

Fairytale of New York - Shane MacGowan and Kirsty McColl

The room was cold. Jack woke in the dusky pre-dawn light and shivered, wondering at the drop in temperature. He padded on bare feet to the window and looked out. Frost patterned the panes with a delicate tracery of crystals and his breath plumed in the air. He forced the window up a little and gasped as the freezing wind slipped in, raising goosebumps on his flesh. He ignored them, though, mesmerized by the vision that met his eyes. Snow was falling, delicate clumps of snowflakes lazily drifting to earth. He smiled, captivated. He had been on Earth now for nearly six decades and still he found the novelty of snow in winter hadn't worn off. Boeshane had never had snow. Every winter since he had arrived, he watched kids of all ages throw balls of the stuff at each other, watched it pile into drifts and coat every structure for miles with a blanket of white. Every year he never failed to watch the sun set in fiery glory over it, turning it glorious shades of pink and gold.

"Hey," said a sleepy voice from the depths of the bed. "Shut the damn window, Jack. It's freezing in here. Why don't you get your ass back in here and warm me up, huh?"

"Sorry," Jack replied, complying with the request. "It's Christmas Eve and it's snowing."

"Snowing?" The softly-accented voice sounded suddenly eager as a child's. There was a rustling noise and then Angelo was standing next to him, skin still warm from the bed, his scent in Jack's nostrils warm and musky and comforting all in one. He peered out the window, scrubbing at the frost to make a hole large enough to see through. His eyes grew wide and his smile gleeful. Jack couldn't resist moving up close behind him, placing his hands on those slim hips.

"I love snow," Angelo admitted, his eyes alight with wonder. "It reminds me of home."

"It's Christmas Eve. We should go shopping for presents. There's Signora Brunetti for one, old Mr Rubenstein, the tailor."

"Signora Rocca?"

"Billy and Gabriel." They smiled. So many people they had made friends with since arriving in New York.

"Come on then, what are we waiting for?"

"Angelo, it's not 0500 yet. Nothing will be open for a few hours at least."

"Okay then, come back to bed." Angelo dragged Jack behind him with the determination of youth. "I know a great way we can warm up."

*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*

Sunlight filtering in through the curtain he had left open roused Jack a couple of hours later. He rose and dressed quickly, leaving Angelo as long as he could. He splashed his face in the cold water from the wash stand jug and scratched his chin. The mirror on the wall with its small crack gave him a crooked appearance and he smiled, self-deprecating.

"Why didn't you wake me?" Angelo was yawning and struggling to sit, fighting the bedsheets which were wrapped around his feet. "I thought we were going Christmas shopping?"

"We are, we will, but you seemed to be exhausted last night so I figured I'd leave you to rest."

"I wonder why that might be?" Angelo demanded, grinning. Then he swung his feet out of bed and hunted for clothes. The two men presented themselves in Signora Brunetti's dining room at precisely 8.30am.

"Buongiorno," she said. "Come stai?"

"Va bene, grazie," Jack replied, as Angelo had taught him. Angelo smiled proudly and sat down. They proceeded to wolf down eggs, bacon, beans, toast and coffee with alacrity.

"You boys heading somewhere in a hurry?" she asked them, watching them clear their plates at speed.

"Yes, ma'am. We're going shopping!" Angelo replied and almost dashed out after Jack.

The sidewalks were choked with snow and everything on the roads had slowed to a crawl. The snow had stopped but lay thickly in deep drifts in places where the prevailing wind had pushed it. People were out clearing steps and pavement, trying to free their front doors in places.

"Where are we going?" Angelo asked, hurrying to keep up with Jack's longer stride.

"Down town," Jack replied. "I thought Macy's or Bloomingdales."

"Are you kidding me? They would take one look and throw us out on the street!" Angelo laughed. Yet Jack's sly glance had him both worried and wondering. Jack didn't seem to feel the cold as they struggled through the snow. Although Angelo liked it, after more than an hour of it he had to admit he was tiring and he was feeling the cold rather more severely. His feet were going numb and his fingers ached.

"Jack..." he panted, beginning to worry. "Jack!" he declared more forcefully as the man kept walking.

"What?" Jack stopped and turned, then his face changed as he registered Angelo's distress. "You okay?"

"I'm cold and tired and I can't feel my feet!"

"Here, sit down..." Jack almost dragged Angelo to a park bench, swept the snow off and sat him down, lifting his feet off the floor. He unlaced one boot ignoring Angelo's protest that someone would see them and took it off. "Your feet are wet. Why didn't you tell me your boots leaked?" he turned the offending footwear over and saw the worn sole. "You need new boots, or at the very least you need these repairing."

"Can't afford it. I have no money, in case you didn't notice. I am a kept man, Jack. You pay the rent, I haven't found a job yet."

"I know that. Money's no problem for me. You should have told me."

"Dio mio! I have some pride left. How do you think I feel relying on your generosity all the time? It's not right..."

"Angelo..."

"No, Jack, I want to pay my way, as well you know!"

"I do know. And I understand. It's just... it's not your fault you can't find work. Nobody is hiring. When you do get something, you can pay me back. Okay? Right now, you need new boots, new clothes and a good coat, you're freezing," Jack paused. "Look, let me make this my Christmas present to you, how would that be?" He rummaged in his pocket and removed a wad of money. He peeled several notes off and handed them over. "Here," he offered. "You can pay me back when you get a job." Reluctantly, Angelo took the money and stuffed it into his pocket. "Now stay here, there's something I want to buy..."

8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8

"You look amazing." Jack complemented, admiring the cut of the suit Angelo now wore. "It looks good on you, we'll take it."

"Jack, it's too good. If I wear this nobody will hire me, they will think I don't need a job."

"Never mind, we'll get you something more...suitable, later. For now, you deserve this."

"I can never pay you back for this, it's too much!"

"You don't need to." Jack's smile was warm and affectionate. "You look good, Angelo. Please, let me do this one thing for you?" Angelo sighed. The clothes were fine and they did fit him very well. He looked, if not a million dollars, close to a thousand maybe.

"Alright," he heard himself say. "Thank you, Jack."

They ate in a posh restaurant overlooking the park. The atmosphere was festive and decorations hung in the windows, illuminated by strings of small lights.

"Will you look at those?" Angelo was transfixed with wonder. "I have never seen the like..."

"They're electric."

"They're amazing."

"Hey, we could go see a show."

"A show? What kind of show?"

"You know, theatre, a review, anything. Must be something on somewhere." Jack was eager to pay the bill quickly and then he pushed Angelo hastily through the door, shoving an arm through his as he marched him across the street.

The theatre was open, people drifting in for the matinee performance. It was a review, and Jack paid for two tickets and ushered Angelo ahead of him. When the lights went down, Angelo was excited as a child, clapping with enthusiasm as a comedian came on to tell jokes and was practically boo-ed off stage. There followed a man who recited a couple of monologues, followed by a juggling act called the Hooplah Girls (four Canadian sisters) and a balancing act (five Russian brothers) called the Russ Troup.

"Very original," Jack muttered but Angelo was hooked. A singer followed, with a line up of dancing girls with feather fans and skimpy costumes. They were all dressed as devils in bright red with horns. Sequins were in abundance although the Angel's glittery halo was slightly askew.

"You looked at me, my heart began to pound.

You weren't the sort of guy I thought would stick around..."

Angelo glanced at Jack and grinned. Jack smiled back, listening as the appropriate lyrics unfolded.

"My bad, bad angel, you put the devil in me..." Jack found himself humming the lyrics long after the show was over. It would be many years before he would hear them again, but a long time before he could rid himself of the references.

"So, is Christmas turning out how you hoped?" Jack glanced at Angelo as he said the words, captivated by the young man's awe and wonder at the marvels on show before him. The snow started falling as darkness fell, and jack suggested turning for home. They bought chestnuts from a street vendor and ate them while listening to a choir of people singing carols. They stopped more than once to stare in the windows of one of the big department stores. The richness of the goods on display made Angelo's mouth water. He promised himself there and then on that cold winter night, one day he would have plenty. He would have money; money of his own to pay Jack back for his kindness, his care, and above all, his love.

"Would you..." he hesitated. He knew how Jack felt about his religion. He confessed every Sunday, much to Jack's annoyance. The man could not see why Angelo still followed a religion that rejected him. "People reject people, Jack. Not God. What we do is wrong in his eyes but on the final day, when I meet him, face to face, he will not turn away. As long as I repent of my sins and mean it, which I do. My body is weak, not my soul." Jack still failed to understand though.

"Would I what?"

"Could we... would you let me...attend Midnight Mass?" Angelo sighed, almost defeated before he had begun. He anticipated a fight to get Jack to come with him but Midnight Mass at Christmas was always magical to him.

"Angelo, I am not about to stop you. What you want to do is your business. Whether I agree with it or not is not the point. You're free to live as you choose."

"I wish that were true."

"So do I, but you know what I mean."

"I do. I want you to come with me. Please, Jack, just see it? Experience it? With me, together?" Angelo's eyes held that pleading look and Jack capitulated this one time, this one night, because after all it was Christmas.

"Okay," he said and Angelo beamed, his face lit up, joy making his green eyes come alive.

They still had a long way to go. All their presents made for a bulky load and Jack decided to splash out on a cab. It kept them safe and they rode home in style. The cab driver was talkative and Jack tipped him heavily and wished him a merry Christmas. He went off whistling.

Their room had never looked so warm and welcoming. Angelo lit the small fire in the grate and they pulled chairs up to the hearth. Jack disappeared to beg a jug of hot water from the kitchen so they could wash in comfort. He made coffee while he was there and appeared with a tray bearing the cups, jug and some cakes that Signora Benedetti had sent "her boys" with her good wishes. She had blushed like a girl when Jack kissed her.

Later, lying in the big soft bed, warm and comfortable, arms entwined around each other, Jack and Angelo both heard the clock strike the hour. Eleven.

"If you want to go to mass, we better get up," Jack said gently, dropping a kiss on Angelo's cheek.

"We could stay here."

"Second thoughts?" Angelo sighed. "What's wrong?" Jack asked him.

"I was thinking about what you said, about what we do and how I always confess my sins..."

"And?"

"It makes me feel better."

"So that means it isn't a bad thing."

"But you don't understand why I would need to."

"No, I don't agree that you have to, I do understand why you need to. This time, it won't always be this way, Angelo. One day, it will be legal for two people of the same sex to love each other, it will even be legal to marry, and one day, one day far into the future, nobody will even think it strange. But that is far away yet."

"You say the oddest things with conviction, Jack, as if you know. I hope you are proved right." Jack smiled and threw back the covers.

"Come on, if we're to make it in time. I can hear Signora Benedetti downstairs. Others will be going to this, we can catch them up and go together."

Jack had to admit there was something magical in the smell of incense and the candle light glinting of the gold chalice and candlesticks. The Latin service largely passed over his head but the essence of the thing conveyed itself. Jack had no use for religion and avoided it if he could but he had to admit to himself that sometimes, it was necessary to others, maybe. Angelo's face was lit by a rapt expression that Jack had never seen before. He glanced over and the green eyes met his. Something in them... a depth of feeling Jack saw so rarely in anyone. Angelo smiled, and Jack realized the man was totally at peace, with himself and with his fellows. Jack shook his head and Angelo gave him a teasing, exasperated smile. Goodwill toward all men, Jack thought.

They emerged into a cold Christmas morning, ploughing back through the snow in a group. At least eight of them had come from the rooming house the Benedetti's kept. They stumbled and scrambled through the drifts, laughing and helping each other. The sky above them was crystal clear, pinprick stars pricked into the velvet black vault above. Jack turned his head up to look at them, wondering where the doctor was in all that vastness. He hoped he was okay, wherever he was. He hoped he had Rose with him. He hoped she made it home. A hopeless longing filled him then, he still had more than three quarters of a century to wait. And he knew then he could not wait with Angelo. Angelo had his own life to lead and sometime soon Jack would have to return to Torchwood and everything would go tits up again. Why for once could he not simply enjoy his life? Why must he always end up alone...?

"Jack? You okay? Hey?" Angelo was shaking him. "What's wrong?" Jack dashed the tears away and tried to smile.

"Its okay, nothing. I'm okay," he lied. Angelo shot him a disbelieving look and let it lie. He very daringly took Jack's hand-they were at the rear of the group and nobody was looking in the dark-and they walked through the darkness back home. Once inside, they went up to their room and shed their clothes, sliding into bed in the dark, seeking skin to skin contact, affirmation that they were here and now; affirmation that the future did not matter right now. This was the important thing; the two of them, together, close and warm and satisfied in this moment, this perfect, flawless thread in the tapestry of time and space. It was all the Christmas present Jack desired.

***

Next story in series - Fairytale of New York II.