Fic: Map of the Problematique 8/? [PG] m/m TW/HL/DW Crossover
Title: Map of the Problematique
Author: Aeron Lanart
Fandom(s): Highlander/Torchwood/Doctor Who
strong>Characters: Jack Harkness, Methos, Eleventh Doctor, Siannon O'Niall (oifc)
Rating: Gen with m/m background
Warnings: Children of Earth compliant
Disclaimer: BBC own Torchwood and the Whoniverse, Panzer/Davis own their concept of immortality and the other Highlander stuff except for Siannon.
Title is from the song of the same name by Muse
You can read all previous chapters from the AO3 page.
If you want to go straight to chapter 8, look
~*~
Siannon wondered just how far away from the TARDIS they’d get before Methos found it necessary to ask the question that was so obviously eating away at him. It turned out to be less than 10 steps, about what she’d expected. He was ambling along beside her, hands in his coat pockets looking for all the world as nondescript as he could.
“What was so important that you didn’t want to mention it inside the TARDIS?” He asked carefully.
“I don’t know what you mean.” Siannon tried for innocent knowing that she’d fail dismally as Methos was far too well acquainted with her to fall for it. He didn’t disappoint.
“Pull the other one,” he said without looking at her or breaking his stride. “‘Boring immortal stuff’ indeed. Something’s obviously bothering you or you wouldn’t have dragged me off under false pretences. You’ve never needed my help to carry only one cláirseach before.”
She gave him a tight smile and a one shouldered shrug that he didn’t acknowledge but she knew he would have noticed.
“You’re right of course, but I’m not talking about it out here either. Plus we have a harp to wrangle so you’re going to have to come up to the flat anyway while I decide which one. I can provide beer as an incentive though.”
That got Methos to react and flash her a smile.
“Fair enough, lead on,” he said.
Siannon didn’t want to disturb Tony when he was working, so she led Methos round to the door on Bute Street which opened onto a hallway that contained the lift to the upper floors amongst other things. She did have an entrance directly onto the stairs at the back of the building, no immortal would be comfortable in a home with only one entrance/exit, but the lift was much more convenient and comfortable. In a building the size of the old station house she also felt it was fairly essential, especially as she’d wanted to make sure all the public areas were accessible to everyone.
As the lift doors closed, she hit the button for the second floor.
“What’s on the first floor?” Methos asked.
“Pub storage and the function room which is directly above the main part of the pub so has the other bay window. It’s a good space.” The lift doors opened and Siannon stepped out into the bright and welcoming lobby, throwing her arms wide in an expansive gesture. “Welcome to my domain,” she announced. “Though strictly speaking it’s only mostly my domain.”
“Mostly?”
“Tony has an office up here, so he can get far from the madding crowd when he’s got some serious admin to do.” She pointed to the door opposite the window. “Then there’s a bit of general storage over there,” she indicated the door opposite the lift. “And that’s me.” She directed Methos towards the door in the wall that was adjacent to the lift, but set back slightly. It had a keypad rather than a standard lock. She smiled at him. “Let yourself in, you’ll know the code.”
The smile faltered a little, even as Methos gave her his best Spock eyebrow.
“Seriously, you will,” she said. “It’s 6 numbers but I’m not giving you any more clues than that.”
Siannon watched as Methos frowned thoughtfully at the keypad, staring at at it as if the numbers would reveal themselves in the air above it, but she offered nothing else as he would be quite aware that the numbers would have to be something significant to them both. It didn’t take long before the frown cleared from his face and he tapped in 19 08 83; the lock clicked. He glanced over his shoulder at her as he pushed the door ajar.
“You do realise there was the possibility I wouldn’t remember Ianto’s birthday, don’t you?”
Siannon made a less than polite gesture in Methos’ direction, she was well able to recognise when he was talking rubbish.
“Pffft. Of course you’d remember, it’ll be a significant date to you for decades, possibly centuries. I know you,” she said. That gained her another Spock eyebrow and one of Methos speciality enigmatic smiles.
“Do you really?”
“OK, rephrase that; I know you better than most and as well as you’ll allow me to, will that do?” He nodded, smile widening. She grinned in response, leaned past him and pushed the door open wide. “Now, shall we go on in instead of standing out here like lemons?”
The door opened onto another, smaller, lobby that contained her ‘proper’ front door, a table and chairs, a couple of cupboards and a hat stand/umbrella holder. She was too old fashioned not to want a solid door and lock between her and the outside world and the lobby area was useful. She dug her key out of a pocket and unlocked the door, standing back to let Methos in past her as she swung it open.
After their coats had been properly hung up on the rack beside the door, Siannon let Methos poke around the place mostly unsupervised, forestalling his half articulated question with a raised hand,
“Ah, ah, ah,” she said, in a tone any child or dog and even Methos would understand. “Beer first.”
He shrugged and carried on looking at her books and cds.
Once they were ensconced in comfortable chairs, drinks in hand, Siannon found she was at a loss for words despite having brought Methos over solely for this discussion. She sighed and took a swig of her beer. She could feel Methos staring at her but she declined to meet his eyes.
“Spit it out, you obviously need to or you wouldn’t be sitting there giving me the silent treatment,” he said gently.
“I honestly don’t know where to start, Methos, it’s all a bit of a mess,” she sighed, then raised her head and met his eyes. She’d known this would be difficult but the bleak prospect of telling him about Johnson hurt more than expected. It had to be done but that didn’t mean she was going to enjoy the telling.
“A Torchwood mess or an immortal mess?” Methos leaned back in his chair without breaking eye contact, demanding clarification with a glance.
“Both, actually, plus it involves Jack directly which is why I didn’t want to mention it while I was in the TARDIS,” she said.
“Oho, if it’s both then it means one of your new team has to be either immortal or pre immortal.”
“Got it in one. Or more accurately, two. One of the team, apart from me, is already immortal but that isn’t the problem as you know him.”
“I do? Him? Hmmm…” She stared at his fingers tapping against the bottle as he thought for a few seconds. “It’s Richie Ryan, isn’t it?” He asked.
“Bingo,” she replied. “Strictly speaking he’s only part time in Cardiff, he mostly lives at my house in Cumbria and otherwise divides his time between Glasgow and here alternate weeks. He’s taken to it like a duck to water and doesn’t mind all the travelling involved in the slightest.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. So what’s he doing in Cumbria when he’s not being Torchwood? I can’t see Richie taking it easy.”
“IT consultancy. He’s become indispensable as the local ‘computer man’ and being willing to travel all over Cumbria has actually turned out to be quite lucrative. There’s one hell of a grapevine amongst the locals so he’s been getting recommended to lots of people.”
“That will suit Richie’s itchy feet.”
“It does, he’s been over here permanently for a good few years now and shows no signs of wanting to move on, which is very good for Torchwood.”
“Which brings us to your pre-immortal,” Methos said with an air of finality. Siannon breathed deeply, forcing back her apprehension. Methos glanced at her. “I’m assuming Richie knows about them?” he continued.
“He does, he didn’t realise at first because of me blurring things, but he soon cottoned on.”
“So, what’s the problem and how does it relate to Jack?”
Another breath. And Another. She clutched onto the bottle in her hands to avoid clenching her fists and digging her nails into her palms. There was no easy way to say it, so she decided to be succinct.
“She’s the one who blew up Jack and the Hub, and was there when Stephen…”
“Fuck!” Methos surged to his feet as he interrupted her and stalked around the room, cursing eloquently in more languages than Siannon usually understood, though she got the meaning perfectly as if someone was translating inside her head. Even if that hadn’t been the case there was no mistaking Methos’ body language and tone of voice. She bit her lip as Methos fell silent and watched as he prowled, his face like granite. He eventually came to a stop and glared at her with his eyes spitting fire.
Crossposted from https://a-lanart.dreamwidth.org/252232.html. Comment here, comment there; it's all fine.
Author: Aeron Lanart
Fandom(s): Highlander/Torchwood/Doctor Who
strong>Characters: Jack Harkness, Methos, Eleventh Doctor, Siannon O'Niall (oifc)
Rating: Gen with m/m background
Warnings: Children of Earth compliant
Disclaimer: BBC own Torchwood and the Whoniverse, Panzer/Davis own their concept of immortality and the other Highlander stuff except for Siannon.
Title is from the song of the same name by Muse
You can read all previous chapters from the AO3 page.
If you want to go straight to chapter 8, look
~*~
Siannon wondered just how far away from the TARDIS they’d get before Methos found it necessary to ask the question that was so obviously eating away at him. It turned out to be less than 10 steps, about what she’d expected. He was ambling along beside her, hands in his coat pockets looking for all the world as nondescript as he could.
“What was so important that you didn’t want to mention it inside the TARDIS?” He asked carefully.
“I don’t know what you mean.” Siannon tried for innocent knowing that she’d fail dismally as Methos was far too well acquainted with her to fall for it. He didn’t disappoint.
“Pull the other one,” he said without looking at her or breaking his stride. “‘Boring immortal stuff’ indeed. Something’s obviously bothering you or you wouldn’t have dragged me off under false pretences. You’ve never needed my help to carry only one cláirseach before.”
She gave him a tight smile and a one shouldered shrug that he didn’t acknowledge but she knew he would have noticed.
“You’re right of course, but I’m not talking about it out here either. Plus we have a harp to wrangle so you’re going to have to come up to the flat anyway while I decide which one. I can provide beer as an incentive though.”
That got Methos to react and flash her a smile.
“Fair enough, lead on,” he said.
Siannon didn’t want to disturb Tony when he was working, so she led Methos round to the door on Bute Street which opened onto a hallway that contained the lift to the upper floors amongst other things. She did have an entrance directly onto the stairs at the back of the building, no immortal would be comfortable in a home with only one entrance/exit, but the lift was much more convenient and comfortable. In a building the size of the old station house she also felt it was fairly essential, especially as she’d wanted to make sure all the public areas were accessible to everyone.
As the lift doors closed, she hit the button for the second floor.
“What’s on the first floor?” Methos asked.
“Pub storage and the function room which is directly above the main part of the pub so has the other bay window. It’s a good space.” The lift doors opened and Siannon stepped out into the bright and welcoming lobby, throwing her arms wide in an expansive gesture. “Welcome to my domain,” she announced. “Though strictly speaking it’s only mostly my domain.”
“Mostly?”
“Tony has an office up here, so he can get far from the madding crowd when he’s got some serious admin to do.” She pointed to the door opposite the window. “Then there’s a bit of general storage over there,” she indicated the door opposite the lift. “And that’s me.” She directed Methos towards the door in the wall that was adjacent to the lift, but set back slightly. It had a keypad rather than a standard lock. She smiled at him. “Let yourself in, you’ll know the code.”
The smile faltered a little, even as Methos gave her his best Spock eyebrow.
“Seriously, you will,” she said. “It’s 6 numbers but I’m not giving you any more clues than that.”
Siannon watched as Methos frowned thoughtfully at the keypad, staring at at it as if the numbers would reveal themselves in the air above it, but she offered nothing else as he would be quite aware that the numbers would have to be something significant to them both. It didn’t take long before the frown cleared from his face and he tapped in 19 08 83; the lock clicked. He glanced over his shoulder at her as he pushed the door ajar.
“You do realise there was the possibility I wouldn’t remember Ianto’s birthday, don’t you?”
Siannon made a less than polite gesture in Methos’ direction, she was well able to recognise when he was talking rubbish.
“Pffft. Of course you’d remember, it’ll be a significant date to you for decades, possibly centuries. I know you,” she said. That gained her another Spock eyebrow and one of Methos speciality enigmatic smiles.
“Do you really?”
“OK, rephrase that; I know you better than most and as well as you’ll allow me to, will that do?” He nodded, smile widening. She grinned in response, leaned past him and pushed the door open wide. “Now, shall we go on in instead of standing out here like lemons?”
The door opened onto another, smaller, lobby that contained her ‘proper’ front door, a table and chairs, a couple of cupboards and a hat stand/umbrella holder. She was too old fashioned not to want a solid door and lock between her and the outside world and the lobby area was useful. She dug her key out of a pocket and unlocked the door, standing back to let Methos in past her as she swung it open.
After their coats had been properly hung up on the rack beside the door, Siannon let Methos poke around the place mostly unsupervised, forestalling his half articulated question with a raised hand,
“Ah, ah, ah,” she said, in a tone any child or dog and even Methos would understand. “Beer first.”
He shrugged and carried on looking at her books and cds.
Once they were ensconced in comfortable chairs, drinks in hand, Siannon found she was at a loss for words despite having brought Methos over solely for this discussion. She sighed and took a swig of her beer. She could feel Methos staring at her but she declined to meet his eyes.
“Spit it out, you obviously need to or you wouldn’t be sitting there giving me the silent treatment,” he said gently.
“I honestly don’t know where to start, Methos, it’s all a bit of a mess,” she sighed, then raised her head and met his eyes. She’d known this would be difficult but the bleak prospect of telling him about Johnson hurt more than expected. It had to be done but that didn’t mean she was going to enjoy the telling.
“A Torchwood mess or an immortal mess?” Methos leaned back in his chair without breaking eye contact, demanding clarification with a glance.
“Both, actually, plus it involves Jack directly which is why I didn’t want to mention it while I was in the TARDIS,” she said.
“Oho, if it’s both then it means one of your new team has to be either immortal or pre immortal.”
“Got it in one. Or more accurately, two. One of the team, apart from me, is already immortal but that isn’t the problem as you know him.”
“I do? Him? Hmmm…” She stared at his fingers tapping against the bottle as he thought for a few seconds. “It’s Richie Ryan, isn’t it?” He asked.
“Bingo,” she replied. “Strictly speaking he’s only part time in Cardiff, he mostly lives at my house in Cumbria and otherwise divides his time between Glasgow and here alternate weeks. He’s taken to it like a duck to water and doesn’t mind all the travelling involved in the slightest.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. So what’s he doing in Cumbria when he’s not being Torchwood? I can’t see Richie taking it easy.”
“IT consultancy. He’s become indispensable as the local ‘computer man’ and being willing to travel all over Cumbria has actually turned out to be quite lucrative. There’s one hell of a grapevine amongst the locals so he’s been getting recommended to lots of people.”
“That will suit Richie’s itchy feet.”
“It does, he’s been over here permanently for a good few years now and shows no signs of wanting to move on, which is very good for Torchwood.”
“Which brings us to your pre-immortal,” Methos said with an air of finality. Siannon breathed deeply, forcing back her apprehension. Methos glanced at her. “I’m assuming Richie knows about them?” he continued.
“He does, he didn’t realise at first because of me blurring things, but he soon cottoned on.”
“So, what’s the problem and how does it relate to Jack?”
Another breath. And Another. She clutched onto the bottle in her hands to avoid clenching her fists and digging her nails into her palms. There was no easy way to say it, so she decided to be succinct.
“She’s the one who blew up Jack and the Hub, and was there when Stephen…”
“Fuck!” Methos surged to his feet as he interrupted her and stalked around the room, cursing eloquently in more languages than Siannon usually understood, though she got the meaning perfectly as if someone was translating inside her head. Even if that hadn’t been the case there was no mistaking Methos’ body language and tone of voice. She bit her lip as Methos fell silent and watched as he prowled, his face like granite. He eventually came to a stop and glared at her with his eyes spitting fire.
Crossposted from https://a-lanart.dreamwidth.org/252232.html. Comment here, comment there; it's all fine.