Title: What Happens Tomorrow
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Ianto Jones/Tenth Doctor
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Rating: PG-13
Table: 11, 50episodes
Prompt: 38, Champagne
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.

***

"What exactly are we celebrating, love?" Ianto asked as the Doctor poured champagne from the bottle into his glass and handed it to him with a flourish. "It's not our anniversary, and it's not any special day that I know of. So what's the occasion?"

"No occasion," the Doctor said as he poured his own glass of champagne, then raised his glass to cilnk it against Ianto's with a smile. "Just the fact that we're alive, we're together, and we're happy. Could there be any better occasion to celebrate than that?"

Ianto couldn't help but smile at the expression on his lover's face; the Doctor looked relaxed and playful, in a happier mood than Ianto had seen him in lately. He loved seeing the Time Lord like this; that playful side hadn't made much of an appearance in recent weeks.

Now, it seemed that the Doctor's more childlike side was starting to peek out again, after all that the two of them had been through. Ianto was relieved to see that; he'd worried that the Doctor might have lost that sense of wonder that he'd loved so much.

What if that actually happened? he asked himself, a slight frown marring his brow. What would he do then? He wouldn't leave the Doctor, of course, or get angry at him. After all, this man did have the weight of the world on his slender shoulders.

He couldn't blame the Time Lord for being overwhelmed by it all at times. If he had been the one who had so much to carry, he'd have gotten tired of it long ago. There were times when he didn't see how the Time Lord could cope with everything that he felt responsible for.

"Time Lords don't get drunk, do they?" Ianto asked, eyeing the bottle of champagne. "Though I can imagine what you'd be like if you were drunk, love. I think you'd be quite entertaining -- even though I might have to watch out for you dancing on the tabletop."

"With a lampshade on my head?" the Doctor asked, laughing as he leaned back in his chair and sipped the sparkling golden liquid. "I wouldn't do that, Ianto. Well, at least I don't think I would. Not even if I was drunk. And yes, Time Lords can get drunk if we want to."

Ianto's brow furrowed in a frown; he was sure that the Doctor had told him in the past that being drunk was something that couldn't happen to him unless he let it happen. It was something to do with his Time Lord physiology, though Ianto couldn't remember exactly how that worked.

"I thought you couldn't get drunk," he began, shaking his head. "Well, unless you wanted to. Can you let yourself get drunk, or does your body keep that from happening in some way?" He was somewhat confused; and besides, he couldn't imagine his lover being drunk.

The Doctor set down his glass, regarding Ianto with some amusement. "Yes, I can get drunk -- if I let it happen," he said, raising an eyebrow. "My body has to let down its defenses, and I can't be aware of the fact that I'm drinking too much until I've already done it."

"But once you're aware of what you've done, then some instinct kicks in and dissipates the effects of the alcohol?" Ianto guessed, wondering if he had it right. It seemed strange to him, but then, the Doctor had a far different physiology than humans did.

The Doctor nodded, smiling across the table at him. "Exactly. It might sound odd to a human, but you have to remember that a Time Lord's body has a way of protecting itself. That's really what regeneration is all about, you know."

Ianto nodded, pushing the thought of regeneration away. He didn't want to think about that; even though he knew that the Doctor was sure he would never regenerate outwardly again and would always keep the body he had now, he was still terrified that something could go wrong.

He didn't want his lover to lose this body. He would still love the Doctor regardless; even if his personality changed somewhat with every regeneration, he would always be the Doctor. But having to get used to another face, another body .... that would be almost impossible to do.

"It's not going to happen, Ianto." The Doctor reached across the table to lay his hand over his lover's, giving his fingers a gentle squeeze. "Stop worrying. I'm not going to regenerate. Not outwardly, at any rate. I think we've already proven that. Don't brood on it."

"It's hard not to do that," Ianto murmured, picking up his glass of champagne with his free hand. "I worry about what could happen in our future, Doctor. It seems that he's trying to manipulate us towards some future that he has planned -- and we're walking right into that trap."

The Doctor looked startled; he obviously hadn't thought of any such thing. "Ianto, I know that it seems as though he's been able to slip past our guard before, but I don't think he can have that much of an impact on our future," he said softly, squeezing Ianto's hand reassuringly.

"Doctor, as long as he's in the world, he'll have an impact on us," Ianto said, his voice flat. "That's a foregone conclusion. Because he's never going to stop trying to come after you in some way or other. It's just that now, we're better equipped to stop him."

But were they? Ianto couldn't help wondering about that. Yes, he was immortal, and the Doctor wasn't going to regenerate into a completely new body. But there was still a kind of menace in the air; Ianto was sure that the Master was far from done with them.

"Ianto, don't worry." The Doctor's voice was soft and gentle; the Time Lord's hand was still on top of his, those long, slender fingers curling protectively around his own. "We'll deal with any problems when they happen. There's no use brooding on them before they do."

Ianto had to force himself to smile; it was hard for him not to brood on all that had happened, but the Time Lord was right. Whatever was in their future, he couldn't foresee it, and he shouldn't be wasting their time together worrying about it.

Brooding and worrying was not only useless, it wouldn't do them any good. All it would do was cut into the happiness they had now, the freedom of knowing that they would stay as they were, with no sense of time marching inexorably on and away from them.

He needed to relax and enjoy this time with the Doctor -- and if the Master happened to come back into their lives again, then they would deal with the problem when it arrived. What happened tomorrow would happen; he couldn't control the future, or stop it.

"I'm going to try to put those worries aside," he told the Doctor, sighing as he returned the gentle squeeze to his hand. "But it's hard not to worry sometimes, Doctor. I can sense something coming in the future. And that makes me uneasy."

"So can I," the Time Lord said quietly. "But I can always sense things like that, Ianto. There are infinite paths that we can choose to take. The future isn't written in stone, you know. And what we do today will determine what will happen down the road."

Ianto blinked as the Doctor's words sunk in, he hadn't thought of it that way. Even if the Master was lying in wait for them in some way, what the two of them did would determine the outcome of their conflict. Their actions would be the decisive factor.

"I think you've just manage to assuage a lot of my fears," he told the Doctor, the smile on his lips finally reaching his eyes. "Thank you, love. You need to talk some sense into me sometimes, it seems. It's a good thing I have your level head around."

"Well, my level head may be getting a bit tipsy tonight," the Doctor told him, refilling their glasses and lifting his in another toast. "Cheers, Ianto! Let's have a good time tonight, and let whatever might happen tomorrow come as it will."

"I'll drink to that," Ianto told him, raising his glass of champagne and clinking it against the Doctor's. This was going to be an interesting evening, he thought as he sipped his drink. If the Doctor did indeed let himself get drunk, that would be a sight that he wouldn't soon forget.

***