fic: Walking On Thin Ice 3/5 PG-13 Torchwood/Highlander crossover *wip*
Title: Walking on Thin Ice
Author: Aeron Lanart
Rating: PG-13 (some colourful language, bit of angst, and mention of a m/m/m relationship)
Warnings/Spoilers: Warnings; see rating. Spoilers; Season 1 Torchwood up to Out of Time
Summary: There are Issues that need to be dealt with...
Disclaimer: Aunty Beeb owns Torchwood.
Panzer/Davis Productions own this concept of immortality, and Methos.
Siannon O'Niall however is mine.
No copyright infringement intended, no profit made
Written for my occhallenge table, which is here. Prompt: Winter.
A/N: I was trying for a road-trip type feel for parts of this; did it work? Not sure, but it seemed to be what the muses wanted.
Part 3
~*~
Siannon didn’t even have the whisper of a hangover the next morning which didn’t entirely surprise her seeing as she’d been drinking Irish whiskey or its equivalent for a long, long time. Even so, she was very thankful. She decided not to call Jack as she doubted he’d be as lucky and she didn’t want to spoil her mood before meeting with Ianto.
It was a beautiful morning, clear, crisp and cold enough to make her very glad of the warmth of her coat and boots as she walked to her car. She’d dressed more smartly than was her custom as she felt it was highly unlikely that Ianto would be wearing jeans even if it wasn’t a work day. She was pleased when she was proved right as she hadn’t relished the vague possibility that she would be overdressed, though his low whistle of appreciation didn’t exactly go amiss either. She gave him a twinkling smile before turning her attention to the drive ahead of them. Once they were underway her curiosity got the better of her.
“So, Ianto, any ideas on what car you want?”
“A few; it came down to practicality or German reliability versus French style.” Siannon snorted in disbelief.
“You’re sitting in a bloody Renault, one of the French answers to practicality at that, and you expect impartiality? French style’s got to win; German cars are just so... staid... except for maybe the Porsches, and *they* aren’t exactly the sort of thing you probably want for driving to work.”
“Oh I don’t know, it might be fun.” She could hear the smile in Ianto’s voice, though she didn’t take her eyes off the road to look at him, instead she answered pragmatically.
“In Cardiff?”
“Yeah, well. You might have a point there.” They fell silent for a moment.
“So what’s your dream car then?” Siannon asked
“Promise you won’t laugh?”
“Why would I laugh?” Ianto glared at her “Ok, ok. Promise. Cross my heart.” She gestured with her left hand and waited for Ianto to divulge his secret.
“The Aston Martin DB5.”
“The James Bond car?” She chuckled; it wasn’t exactly the answer she’d been expecting. “I didn’t know you were a closet James Bond fan.”
“I assure you, there’s no closet involved whatsoever.” Ianto replied in the deadpan tone that made her want to hoot with laughter.
“Really? I never would have guessed.” She chuckled. “It’s a great car, but also not really suitable for driving to work.”
“As well as being out of my price range.”
“Hmph. So which ones have you been thinking about?”
“Astra.”
“Cute and practical, but far too ordinary.”
“That’s what I was thinking... Mercedes R class.”
“Evil car. Clarkson doesn’t like it either.”
“Citroen C6.”
“Ooh, smooth. And why the C6? Isn’t it a bit... much... just for driving to work?” She flicked a brief inquiring glance at Ianto before returning her concentration to driving. She saw Ianto smile out of the corner of her eye.
“Ah, but it’s classy. And I kind of like the idea of having some of the lumps and bumps taken out of my life, even if it is only in my car. Plus, I’m a sucker for big executive cars; I think it’s all the gadgets...” It was Siannon’s turn to smile; Ianto was almost as much of a gadget freak as Tosh, he was just a bit less obvious about it.
“Can’t argue with that.” She replied. “I think I might be tempted myself if it wasn’t for needing the space and adaptability of this thing at the moment. You’ve not seen the size of some of the instrument cases I’m lugging around on a regular basis.”
“So when you’re not surrendering to the demands of practicality, what’s *your* dream car?”
“Not sure I have a dream car. I like them small and fast if life allows. This isn’t my only car you know; I have a fun one too.” She could tell she’d piqued Ianto’s interest by the way shifted in his seat to look at her.
“Which is?” Siannon let a lazy smile creep over her face at his question, she was fairly sure he wouldn’t be expecting quite the answer he was going to get.
“A 2004 Caterham Seven; the Superlight R500 to be exact.” She was rewarded with a brief moment of silence, and the hiss of a quickly indrawn breath from Ianto.
“The one that was ‘too fast to race’? Does 0-60 in just over 3 seconds?” He sounded cautiously excited, like someone reeling off the specs of a car they’d never thought they’d have the chance to see.
“Yup, that’s the one. Haven’t been able to use it much since I started this job, for a start the weather in Cumbria is about as predictable as the weather here, and then I don’t think the school would take kindly to reports of one of their teachers hurtling along the Wrynose Pass in a Caterham.”
“I can imagine.” Ianto shook his head, unable to prevent a grin from sneaking onto his face. Siannon frowned at him.
“What?”
“I didn’t think you’d be a petrol-head!” Ianto was fighting a losing battle with what sounded suspiciously like a giggle to Siannon.
“Nice to know I can still surprise the man who knows everything.” She commented. “One of these days I’ll bring it down here and take you for a spin. You’d love it.”
“I’m sure I would; Jack would probably have a cat... and then demand that you take him out first. Wait until the weather’s a bit better though, won’t you?” They shared a smile.
“Too bloody right I will. No heating in an R500 you know.” She realised at that point she’d just been driving away from the Bay randomly. “So, where to first, Ianto?”
“I thought we’d go and look at the Astra anyway. You never know, they might make me an offer I can’t refuse.”
“Now that I would like to see,” Siannon said with a grin, which widened as Ianto rolled his eyes.
“Take the next left,” he said, with enough long suffering resignation in his voice that Siannon couldn’t help but burst out laughing.
Despite them both liking the nippiness of the car, the Astra didn’t meet Ianto’s criteria; not that Siannon had any real idea of what Ianto’s criteria for a car actually were. They were back on the road and heading for the Citroen dealership in no time, Siannon being rather surprised when Ianto joined in as she began singing along to the radio. They reached their destination just after an enthusiastic rendition of ‘Real Wild Child’ had left them both in fits of giggles, driving from their minds the reason behind why Ianto needed a new car.
The C 6 was sleek but quirky, and they both fell in love with it before the test drive had taken them 50 yards.
“If you don’t buy this Ianto, I will,” she muttered at him. Ianto just smiled. After the test drive she left him hammering out the details of price, delivery and the like while she poked around among the other cars, taking mental notes of the ones she liked for future reference.
Ianto seemed perfectly happy with the deal he’d made as they climbed back into her car, but his good mood seemed to evaporate as they turned back toward the Hub. Siannon cast sidelong glances at him, noticing how his fingers were clenching and unclenching in his lap; it wasn’t long before she reached a decision and pulled over. Ianto didn’t seem to notice at first and she waited until he registered that they’d stopped. He said nothing, but managed to look guilty, flustered and relieved in equal parts. He met her eyes helplessly. She reached out to touch him gently.
“Are you going to tell me what the problem is, or do I guess?”
“I...I’m not ready to back yet.”
“I kind of gathered that. Want more time out?” Ianto nodded in reply. “You should have said something. Right then.” She paused in thought, mentally reviewing her options as she checked the time. When they began moving again, she headed out of the city. “We’re going for lunch, and you can tell me anything else I should either be doing or worrying about in the process.” She absently patted his leg in reassurance as she concentrated on the road once more.
Siannon stopped at a country pub on the other side of the M4; not that far away from the hustle and bustle of Cardiff distance wise, but miles away in terms of outlook. There was real fire in the grate, welcoming all with its cheerful crackle, driving the winter chill away. There were still swathes of greenery draped around the wooden beams, making the whole place smell of winter warmth and home. She took a deep appreciative breath and led them to a table near to the fire, but not close enough that they would overheat. Then she determinedly kept all talk to inconsequentialities until they had both eaten; she knew if she started pushing at Ianto he would manage nothing, and to her eyes he already looked thinner than he had when she’d last seen him a month or so back. Lunch was a pleasant memory, and they were idly chatting over their drinks when Ianto gave Siannon a wry smile.
“I wish the others would learn how to back off like you do. I think there would be a lot less frayed tempers, especially when we’re all stressed out, tired and grieving.” He sighed. “I’m sorry about before. I just...” his voice trailed off as he stared at the table.
“It’s ok, Ianto. Really. If you aren’t able to tell me outright, I’ll just ask you things until I get there. I’m persistent like that.” She smiled gently, and was pleased when Ianto raised his head and smiled back at her.
“I know, but that’s ok. Saves me having to think.” She sighed in response.
“I suppose thinking too much just stirs everything up at the moment.”
“Something like that.” Ianto shrugged, before reaching for his drink once more.
“So... I presume you were worrying about getting rid of the other car earlier on?” Siannon asked, watching Ianto’s face carefully for the non-verbal cues that would tell her she’d pushed too hard. He seemed a bit uncomfortable, but not overly so.
“Just a bit. Usually it’s part of my job to arrange things like that, but with this... I can’t bring myself to even think about it.”
“Could anyone else do it?” Siannon suggested carefully; Ianto had all but admitted this was one thing he couldn’t deal with but she disliked implying that he couldn’t do his job knowing how important to him Torchwood was.
“Tosh could manage most of it, but she’d need help.” Ianto’s answer was thoughtful, but no more than that.
“She’ll have it.”
“Siannon... I...” Ianto met her eyes, his expression hiding nothing for a change. To Siannon he looked fragile, vulnerable, and terribly young.
“I said I’d help, didn’t I? And it seems to me that getting rid of that car will benefit everyone, not just you. It’s too much of a physical reminder of what you’ve all just been through. Get rid of that and it will be easier for you all to move past this. Being on the outside has some advantages, you know.”
“Thank you.” Ianto whispered.
“Da chi.” A comfortable silence fell between them while they both mulled things over. Siannon was wondering just how she was going to deal with Jack when they got back to Cardiff when Ianto interrupted her train of thought.
“How did it go with Jack last night? I’d not heard anything off him this morning when we left.” The mask Ianto wore to face the world was partially back in place, but Siannon could see the cracks in it. She kept her answer light; she didn’t want to make those cracks any bigger.
“Put it this way; I’m not sure he’ll *want* to talk to me today. I introduced him to the joys of quality Irish whiskey and I’m a hell of a lot more used to drinking it than he is.”
“Oh dear. I almost feel sorry for him.” It looked like Ianto was trying to suppress the smile that wanted to escape, but he didn’t quite succeed. She quirked a smile back at him.
“Almost?”
“Yeah. But not quite. And?”
“It did its job, eventually. We talked, amongst other things.” The smile crept back onto her face at the less than clear memories of the night before.
“Oh?” Ianto seemed to be intrigued. Siannon wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.
“He has a very good singing voice.” She explained; Ianto spluttered.
“Let me get this straight; you got Jack drunk enough to *sing* after how he’s been feeling?”
“Yup.” Siannon was quite proud of that fact and didn’t see why she should try to deny it. Ianto chuckled and shook his head.
“You weren’t kidding when you said you were very persuasive, were you? Remind me never to get drunk when you’re there, I’m not sure the others are ready for my version of Welsh rugby songs.”
“Oh I don’t know, you’d probably find that Gwen knows them anyway.”
“Probably.” Ianto glanced at his watch, and sighed. “Much as I’d prefer not to, if you and Tosh are going to deal with...the Audi... you’d better get back.”
“Suppose you’re right. Still, soonest started, soonest finished. I’ll drop you off first, though.”
“If you wouldn’t mind.”
“Not in the slightest.”
Some time later Siannon was cleaning the empty garage. Scrubbing the floor was probably an exercise in futility, it was a garage after all, but she wanted to remove all traces of the Audi from the place, and it had the added advantage of keeping her out of Jack’s immediate vicinity. Tosh had been more than glad of her offer of assistance; she’d been the least affected by recent events but she’d still been shocked and upset by John Ellis’s suicide. Siannon pushed her hair out of her eyes and surveyed her work; it was a job well done and she doubted the garage had looked so clean in years. Her reverie was interrupted by a quiet voice.
“You didn’t have to do this, you know.” She didn’t acknowledge Jack’s presence by turning round, just carried on with the cleaning.
“It needed doing.” She said in a flat tone of voice. They both knew it was something that Ianto would have dealt with, that he hadn’t been *able* to deal with, and that had ultimately been Jack’s responsibility.
“But...”
“Leave it, Jack. Done is done. Time to move on, now.” She still didn’t turn to face him, but her voice was gentler.
“I guess.” She heard him open the door, and then pause. “Come on up when you’re ready, Siannon.”
“Will do.”
“And Siannon?” This time she did turn, glancing at him from over her shoulder.
“Yes?”
“Thank you.” The door clanged shut behind him.
Author: Aeron Lanart
Rating: PG-13 (some colourful language, bit of angst, and mention of a m/m/m relationship)
Warnings/Spoilers: Warnings; see rating. Spoilers; Season 1 Torchwood up to Out of Time
Summary: There are Issues that need to be dealt with...
Disclaimer: Aunty Beeb owns Torchwood.
Panzer/Davis Productions own this concept of immortality, and Methos.
Siannon O'Niall however is mine.
No copyright infringement intended, no profit made
Written for my occhallenge table, which is here. Prompt: Winter.
A/N: I was trying for a road-trip type feel for parts of this; did it work? Not sure, but it seemed to be what the muses wanted.
Part 3
~*~
Siannon didn’t even have the whisper of a hangover the next morning which didn’t entirely surprise her seeing as she’d been drinking Irish whiskey or its equivalent for a long, long time. Even so, she was very thankful. She decided not to call Jack as she doubted he’d be as lucky and she didn’t want to spoil her mood before meeting with Ianto.
It was a beautiful morning, clear, crisp and cold enough to make her very glad of the warmth of her coat and boots as she walked to her car. She’d dressed more smartly than was her custom as she felt it was highly unlikely that Ianto would be wearing jeans even if it wasn’t a work day. She was pleased when she was proved right as she hadn’t relished the vague possibility that she would be overdressed, though his low whistle of appreciation didn’t exactly go amiss either. She gave him a twinkling smile before turning her attention to the drive ahead of them. Once they were underway her curiosity got the better of her.
“So, Ianto, any ideas on what car you want?”
“A few; it came down to practicality or German reliability versus French style.” Siannon snorted in disbelief.
“You’re sitting in a bloody Renault, one of the French answers to practicality at that, and you expect impartiality? French style’s got to win; German cars are just so... staid... except for maybe the Porsches, and *they* aren’t exactly the sort of thing you probably want for driving to work.”
“Oh I don’t know, it might be fun.” She could hear the smile in Ianto’s voice, though she didn’t take her eyes off the road to look at him, instead she answered pragmatically.
“In Cardiff?”
“Yeah, well. You might have a point there.” They fell silent for a moment.
“So what’s your dream car then?” Siannon asked
“Promise you won’t laugh?”
“Why would I laugh?” Ianto glared at her “Ok, ok. Promise. Cross my heart.” She gestured with her left hand and waited for Ianto to divulge his secret.
“The Aston Martin DB5.”
“The James Bond car?” She chuckled; it wasn’t exactly the answer she’d been expecting. “I didn’t know you were a closet James Bond fan.”
“I assure you, there’s no closet involved whatsoever.” Ianto replied in the deadpan tone that made her want to hoot with laughter.
“Really? I never would have guessed.” She chuckled. “It’s a great car, but also not really suitable for driving to work.”
“As well as being out of my price range.”
“Hmph. So which ones have you been thinking about?”
“Astra.”
“Cute and practical, but far too ordinary.”
“That’s what I was thinking... Mercedes R class.”
“Evil car. Clarkson doesn’t like it either.”
“Citroen C6.”
“Ooh, smooth. And why the C6? Isn’t it a bit... much... just for driving to work?” She flicked a brief inquiring glance at Ianto before returning her concentration to driving. She saw Ianto smile out of the corner of her eye.
“Ah, but it’s classy. And I kind of like the idea of having some of the lumps and bumps taken out of my life, even if it is only in my car. Plus, I’m a sucker for big executive cars; I think it’s all the gadgets...” It was Siannon’s turn to smile; Ianto was almost as much of a gadget freak as Tosh, he was just a bit less obvious about it.
“Can’t argue with that.” She replied. “I think I might be tempted myself if it wasn’t for needing the space and adaptability of this thing at the moment. You’ve not seen the size of some of the instrument cases I’m lugging around on a regular basis.”
“So when you’re not surrendering to the demands of practicality, what’s *your* dream car?”
“Not sure I have a dream car. I like them small and fast if life allows. This isn’t my only car you know; I have a fun one too.” She could tell she’d piqued Ianto’s interest by the way shifted in his seat to look at her.
“Which is?” Siannon let a lazy smile creep over her face at his question, she was fairly sure he wouldn’t be expecting quite the answer he was going to get.
“A 2004 Caterham Seven; the Superlight R500 to be exact.” She was rewarded with a brief moment of silence, and the hiss of a quickly indrawn breath from Ianto.
“The one that was ‘too fast to race’? Does 0-60 in just over 3 seconds?” He sounded cautiously excited, like someone reeling off the specs of a car they’d never thought they’d have the chance to see.
“Yup, that’s the one. Haven’t been able to use it much since I started this job, for a start the weather in Cumbria is about as predictable as the weather here, and then I don’t think the school would take kindly to reports of one of their teachers hurtling along the Wrynose Pass in a Caterham.”
“I can imagine.” Ianto shook his head, unable to prevent a grin from sneaking onto his face. Siannon frowned at him.
“What?”
“I didn’t think you’d be a petrol-head!” Ianto was fighting a losing battle with what sounded suspiciously like a giggle to Siannon.
“Nice to know I can still surprise the man who knows everything.” She commented. “One of these days I’ll bring it down here and take you for a spin. You’d love it.”
“I’m sure I would; Jack would probably have a cat... and then demand that you take him out first. Wait until the weather’s a bit better though, won’t you?” They shared a smile.
“Too bloody right I will. No heating in an R500 you know.” She realised at that point she’d just been driving away from the Bay randomly. “So, where to first, Ianto?”
“I thought we’d go and look at the Astra anyway. You never know, they might make me an offer I can’t refuse.”
“Now that I would like to see,” Siannon said with a grin, which widened as Ianto rolled his eyes.
“Take the next left,” he said, with enough long suffering resignation in his voice that Siannon couldn’t help but burst out laughing.
Despite them both liking the nippiness of the car, the Astra didn’t meet Ianto’s criteria; not that Siannon had any real idea of what Ianto’s criteria for a car actually were. They were back on the road and heading for the Citroen dealership in no time, Siannon being rather surprised when Ianto joined in as she began singing along to the radio. They reached their destination just after an enthusiastic rendition of ‘Real Wild Child’ had left them both in fits of giggles, driving from their minds the reason behind why Ianto needed a new car.
The C 6 was sleek but quirky, and they both fell in love with it before the test drive had taken them 50 yards.
“If you don’t buy this Ianto, I will,” she muttered at him. Ianto just smiled. After the test drive she left him hammering out the details of price, delivery and the like while she poked around among the other cars, taking mental notes of the ones she liked for future reference.
Ianto seemed perfectly happy with the deal he’d made as they climbed back into her car, but his good mood seemed to evaporate as they turned back toward the Hub. Siannon cast sidelong glances at him, noticing how his fingers were clenching and unclenching in his lap; it wasn’t long before she reached a decision and pulled over. Ianto didn’t seem to notice at first and she waited until he registered that they’d stopped. He said nothing, but managed to look guilty, flustered and relieved in equal parts. He met her eyes helplessly. She reached out to touch him gently.
“Are you going to tell me what the problem is, or do I guess?”
“I...I’m not ready to back yet.”
“I kind of gathered that. Want more time out?” Ianto nodded in reply. “You should have said something. Right then.” She paused in thought, mentally reviewing her options as she checked the time. When they began moving again, she headed out of the city. “We’re going for lunch, and you can tell me anything else I should either be doing or worrying about in the process.” She absently patted his leg in reassurance as she concentrated on the road once more.
Siannon stopped at a country pub on the other side of the M4; not that far away from the hustle and bustle of Cardiff distance wise, but miles away in terms of outlook. There was real fire in the grate, welcoming all with its cheerful crackle, driving the winter chill away. There were still swathes of greenery draped around the wooden beams, making the whole place smell of winter warmth and home. She took a deep appreciative breath and led them to a table near to the fire, but not close enough that they would overheat. Then she determinedly kept all talk to inconsequentialities until they had both eaten; she knew if she started pushing at Ianto he would manage nothing, and to her eyes he already looked thinner than he had when she’d last seen him a month or so back. Lunch was a pleasant memory, and they were idly chatting over their drinks when Ianto gave Siannon a wry smile.
“I wish the others would learn how to back off like you do. I think there would be a lot less frayed tempers, especially when we’re all stressed out, tired and grieving.” He sighed. “I’m sorry about before. I just...” his voice trailed off as he stared at the table.
“It’s ok, Ianto. Really. If you aren’t able to tell me outright, I’ll just ask you things until I get there. I’m persistent like that.” She smiled gently, and was pleased when Ianto raised his head and smiled back at her.
“I know, but that’s ok. Saves me having to think.” She sighed in response.
“I suppose thinking too much just stirs everything up at the moment.”
“Something like that.” Ianto shrugged, before reaching for his drink once more.
“So... I presume you were worrying about getting rid of the other car earlier on?” Siannon asked, watching Ianto’s face carefully for the non-verbal cues that would tell her she’d pushed too hard. He seemed a bit uncomfortable, but not overly so.
“Just a bit. Usually it’s part of my job to arrange things like that, but with this... I can’t bring myself to even think about it.”
“Could anyone else do it?” Siannon suggested carefully; Ianto had all but admitted this was one thing he couldn’t deal with but she disliked implying that he couldn’t do his job knowing how important to him Torchwood was.
“Tosh could manage most of it, but she’d need help.” Ianto’s answer was thoughtful, but no more than that.
“She’ll have it.”
“Siannon... I...” Ianto met her eyes, his expression hiding nothing for a change. To Siannon he looked fragile, vulnerable, and terribly young.
“I said I’d help, didn’t I? And it seems to me that getting rid of that car will benefit everyone, not just you. It’s too much of a physical reminder of what you’ve all just been through. Get rid of that and it will be easier for you all to move past this. Being on the outside has some advantages, you know.”
“Thank you.” Ianto whispered.
“Da chi.” A comfortable silence fell between them while they both mulled things over. Siannon was wondering just how she was going to deal with Jack when they got back to Cardiff when Ianto interrupted her train of thought.
“How did it go with Jack last night? I’d not heard anything off him this morning when we left.” The mask Ianto wore to face the world was partially back in place, but Siannon could see the cracks in it. She kept her answer light; she didn’t want to make those cracks any bigger.
“Put it this way; I’m not sure he’ll *want* to talk to me today. I introduced him to the joys of quality Irish whiskey and I’m a hell of a lot more used to drinking it than he is.”
“Oh dear. I almost feel sorry for him.” It looked like Ianto was trying to suppress the smile that wanted to escape, but he didn’t quite succeed. She quirked a smile back at him.
“Almost?”
“Yeah. But not quite. And?”
“It did its job, eventually. We talked, amongst other things.” The smile crept back onto her face at the less than clear memories of the night before.
“Oh?” Ianto seemed to be intrigued. Siannon wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.
“He has a very good singing voice.” She explained; Ianto spluttered.
“Let me get this straight; you got Jack drunk enough to *sing* after how he’s been feeling?”
“Yup.” Siannon was quite proud of that fact and didn’t see why she should try to deny it. Ianto chuckled and shook his head.
“You weren’t kidding when you said you were very persuasive, were you? Remind me never to get drunk when you’re there, I’m not sure the others are ready for my version of Welsh rugby songs.”
“Oh I don’t know, you’d probably find that Gwen knows them anyway.”
“Probably.” Ianto glanced at his watch, and sighed. “Much as I’d prefer not to, if you and Tosh are going to deal with...the Audi... you’d better get back.”
“Suppose you’re right. Still, soonest started, soonest finished. I’ll drop you off first, though.”
“If you wouldn’t mind.”
“Not in the slightest.”
Some time later Siannon was cleaning the empty garage. Scrubbing the floor was probably an exercise in futility, it was a garage after all, but she wanted to remove all traces of the Audi from the place, and it had the added advantage of keeping her out of Jack’s immediate vicinity. Tosh had been more than glad of her offer of assistance; she’d been the least affected by recent events but she’d still been shocked and upset by John Ellis’s suicide. Siannon pushed her hair out of her eyes and surveyed her work; it was a job well done and she doubted the garage had looked so clean in years. Her reverie was interrupted by a quiet voice.
“You didn’t have to do this, you know.” She didn’t acknowledge Jack’s presence by turning round, just carried on with the cleaning.
“It needed doing.” She said in a flat tone of voice. They both knew it was something that Ianto would have dealt with, that he hadn’t been *able* to deal with, and that had ultimately been Jack’s responsibility.
“But...”
“Leave it, Jack. Done is done. Time to move on, now.” She still didn’t turn to face him, but her voice was gentler.
“I guess.” She heard him open the door, and then pause. “Come on up when you’re ready, Siannon.”
“Will do.”
“And Siannon?” This time she did turn, glancing at him from over her shoulder.
“Yes?”
“Thank you.” The door clanged shut behind him.