Jack stood on the window ledge, nose pressed to the glass, peering in. Through the fog of his breath on the pane, and a narrow gap in the curtains, he could see Ianto bustling about inside and felt a pang of loneliness, wishing he could be part of the merry gathering.
Ianto had his family over for dinner, a Jones tradition to celebrate Easter. He’d told Jack about it weeks ago, and at the time Jack had thought he didn’t mind being excluded; after all, this was a family thing and he wasn’t family. They didn’t even know about him.
Maybe that was the worst part; they didn’t know. He was on the outside looking in, not welcome in this part of Ianto’s life.
Suddenly the window opened beside him. “Jack! What the hell are you doing?”
“Don’t know. Just wanted to see you.”
“So you thought you’d spy on me from the window ledge? Get in here before someone calls the police about a Peeping Tom, you idiot!”
“Does that mean I’m invited for dinner?” Jack asked hopefully.
Ianto’s expression softened. “I suppose it does. Happy Easter.”
As far as Jack was concerned, it was his happiest Easter ever.