The Mystery We Are. TW/HL Xover 20/? [PG] *WIP*
~*~
Methos puttered around the hub for a bit, generally being nosy and asking questions, but also ensuring he was visible for a while. Eventually he cornered Ianto in the kitchen and asked about the archives.
“Siannon said she had something she wanted me to look at that she couldn’t translate.” He explained. Ianto smiled
“That will be our hieroglyphs, I suppose. She seems to be managing fine with the Latin and Greek.”
“I should think she would be fine with Greek, I taught her to read it after all.” Ianto’s smile became wider.
“I believe she may have mentioned that.” Methos had the grace to look slightly worried. “Oh, she only said it in passing, apparently. No trade secrets given away that I know about anyway. Come on, I’ll show you where she hides herself most of the time.”
~*~
Down in the archive area, Methos let out a low whistle of surprise.
“I didn’t think it would be so big.”
“That’s one of the strong points of Torchwood Cardiff; it’s comprehensive archive. Pity we don’t have a catalogue to match, but we’re working on that.”
“I think I’d be quite happy down here.” Methos slowly walked down the corridor, looking around him with a contented smile on his face.
“Is that an Immortal thing? Siannon seems to love working down here to the extent that we barely know she’s around.”
“I think some of us older ones are like that, but it’s a personality thing mostly. I bet no-one knows this place like you do, and you get annoyed when people mess around down here without asking you first.” Ianto chuckled.
“Guilty as charged. The others don’t seem to have the respect that the archives deserve.”
“Sounds like you love working down here too.”
“When I get the chance; this is Torchwood after all so chasing general weirdness and aliens, and then cleaning up after them, takes priority. Maybe I should have been a librarian instead.”
“Or stuck to being a Watcher. They have some pretty interesting archives; I should know after all.”
“No. I’m well out of that. Give me aliens any day.” They continued down the corridor, drawing closer to the one door that was open, and had light spilling through the gap. Ianto could see Siannon poring over the documents, seemingly unaware that anyone had arrived, though she must have felt the buzz from Methos as they approached. He knocked on the door frame, “Anyone home?” She glanced up with a smile,
“Depends.”
“I have coffee.” He lifted the insulated mug he’d brought down from the Hub. “And company.”
“In that case, come in. I’m surprised you managed to persuade Adam to come down so soon.” She carefully took the cup from Ianto and sipped gratefully, grinning as she watched Methos stare at the racks and shelves around them.
“No persuasion needed, he asked. I can see why…”
“Happy as a pig in muck. Like me, I suppose. Could you do me a favour, Ianto?”
“If I can.”
“Find him,” she waved in Methos’s direction, “Somewhere to stay. He needs a place of his own, rather than bunking with me.”
“Hey, my feet don’t smell that much!” Ianto hid a grin at the pitiful expression on the old immortal’s face. Siannon rolled her eyes.
“Yes they do. So, hotel or short term rent?” Methos wandered over to Siannon’s desk.
“Umm, I hadn’t really thought about it.”
“Well you aren’t staying with me for another night.”
“Spoilsport.”
“I need my sleep. Your snoring would wake the dead.”
“My snoring? What about you grinding your teeth?” Ianto gradually backed away to stand by the door frame, unsure whether the bickering would stay friendly or not. After all, he didn’t know the history between the 2 immortals, beyond what they had told him which was not a hell of a lot he had to admit.
“I don’t grind my teeth. Or I never used to, must have been annoyed with you last night.”
“Oh terribly annoyed.” They both burst out laughing.
“Adam, you are dreadful.”
“And you’re mean.”
“Live with it. Hotel or short term rent?”
“Short term rent.” He looked over to Ianto “If that’s OK by you, Ianto.”
“It’s fine. I have just the place in mind; in the Brewery Quarter. It's a short distance from the Bay, but it seems an appropriate place for you.” Both Siannon and Methos watched Ianto make his escape, shared a smile. She sighed.
“He’s a nice lad.”
“Seems to be.”
“Don’t break his heart then, will you.”
“I don’t intend to. Why should I?”
“Jack.”
“Ah.”
“Mind you, I’m not sure he knows how he feels himself yet. There was a ‘situation’ he was heavily involved in not long back that everyone is very careful not to mention in front of me, and they have covered up whatever it was very well. Plenty of practice at covering things up, I suppose. Whatever happens between you and Jack, I’m sure Ianto will survive.”
“And that is your real reason for chucking me out.”
“I saw how you looked at each other. I am not having you and Jack Harkness in my house… unless I’m invited to join the fun.”
“We’re not quite up to that stage yet. He hasn’t even kissed me.”
“You’re losing your touch, old man. Even I’ve managed to get snogged by the good Captain and he knows I’m not particularly interested. You have some catching up to do.”
“I’m sure I’ll manage. We have the emotional baggage removal to see to first. Now, what did you want me down here for?” He perched on her desk, as she bent to rummage around in a box near her feet.
“This.” She said, passing the papyrus document to him. He held it closer to the light and peered at it for a few moments. Then he let out a bark of laughter.
“I don’t believe it!”
“Believe what? And what’s so funny?”
“This is one of mine.” He waved the document in the air. “Oh this particular document is a Ptolemaic copy, but the original was written by me. I wonder how Torchwood managed to get hold of it, though I know *why* it ended up here.”
“Would you care to enlighten me? That thing’s been bugging me for days.”
“It’s about The Doctor, and his TARDIS.”
“TARDIS?”
“It looks like a blue box, a 1950s police box to exact. And the Doctor is a friend of Jack’s, though I’ve met him a few times myself. If I’m right, I wrote this not long after I’d met him the first time.”
“This is why you asked me if Jack had ever mentioned him. Time travel. Ugh.”
“Isn’t that a bit hypocritical?”
“At least we only go in one direction, and we don’t just bounce around willy-nilly. If you’re right, it sheds light on the rest of this stuff too.”
“There’s more?”
“No more hieroglyphs, but plenty in Latin and Greek and all mentioning the Doctor and a blue box. Nothing that I recognize as your writing, though most of it is actually copies of earlier documents, like that one.”
“Let me see.” He placed the document with the hieroglyphs to one side and riffled through the pile that Siannon passed to him. “Nope, none of this is mine. Looks like the Doctor has had his own collection of Watchers through time, though. Interesting. Just how long has Torchwood been in existence again?”
“Since 1879. If you look at when the majority were written, you’ll find that there isn’t much that can be dated after the mid-1600s.”
“That implies that whatever organisation there was, it collapsed mid 17th century. I don’t suppose we’ll ever know whether it was due to the British civil war, the Black Death, the Great Fire of London or what. Now this is where a time machine would come in useful...”
“Don’t start, even if I do agree with you. Knowledge is power, and all that.”
“So you were listening, some of the time at least.”
“Some of the time.” She pushed her chair back. “Seeing as you’ve helped solve my little mystery, shall I take you shopping so you can get your new place stocked up?”
“Why not?” He held his arm out to Siannon, who took it with a smile and a bobbed curtsey. Arm in arm they made their way back up to the hub.
Methos puttered around the hub for a bit, generally being nosy and asking questions, but also ensuring he was visible for a while. Eventually he cornered Ianto in the kitchen and asked about the archives.
“Siannon said she had something she wanted me to look at that she couldn’t translate.” He explained. Ianto smiled
“That will be our hieroglyphs, I suppose. She seems to be managing fine with the Latin and Greek.”
“I should think she would be fine with Greek, I taught her to read it after all.” Ianto’s smile became wider.
“I believe she may have mentioned that.” Methos had the grace to look slightly worried. “Oh, she only said it in passing, apparently. No trade secrets given away that I know about anyway. Come on, I’ll show you where she hides herself most of the time.”
~*~
Down in the archive area, Methos let out a low whistle of surprise.
“I didn’t think it would be so big.”
“That’s one of the strong points of Torchwood Cardiff; it’s comprehensive archive. Pity we don’t have a catalogue to match, but we’re working on that.”
“I think I’d be quite happy down here.” Methos slowly walked down the corridor, looking around him with a contented smile on his face.
“Is that an Immortal thing? Siannon seems to love working down here to the extent that we barely know she’s around.”
“I think some of us older ones are like that, but it’s a personality thing mostly. I bet no-one knows this place like you do, and you get annoyed when people mess around down here without asking you first.” Ianto chuckled.
“Guilty as charged. The others don’t seem to have the respect that the archives deserve.”
“Sounds like you love working down here too.”
“When I get the chance; this is Torchwood after all so chasing general weirdness and aliens, and then cleaning up after them, takes priority. Maybe I should have been a librarian instead.”
“Or stuck to being a Watcher. They have some pretty interesting archives; I should know after all.”
“No. I’m well out of that. Give me aliens any day.” They continued down the corridor, drawing closer to the one door that was open, and had light spilling through the gap. Ianto could see Siannon poring over the documents, seemingly unaware that anyone had arrived, though she must have felt the buzz from Methos as they approached. He knocked on the door frame, “Anyone home?” She glanced up with a smile,
“Depends.”
“I have coffee.” He lifted the insulated mug he’d brought down from the Hub. “And company.”
“In that case, come in. I’m surprised you managed to persuade Adam to come down so soon.” She carefully took the cup from Ianto and sipped gratefully, grinning as she watched Methos stare at the racks and shelves around them.
“No persuasion needed, he asked. I can see why…”
“Happy as a pig in muck. Like me, I suppose. Could you do me a favour, Ianto?”
“If I can.”
“Find him,” she waved in Methos’s direction, “Somewhere to stay. He needs a place of his own, rather than bunking with me.”
“Hey, my feet don’t smell that much!” Ianto hid a grin at the pitiful expression on the old immortal’s face. Siannon rolled her eyes.
“Yes they do. So, hotel or short term rent?” Methos wandered over to Siannon’s desk.
“Umm, I hadn’t really thought about it.”
“Well you aren’t staying with me for another night.”
“Spoilsport.”
“I need my sleep. Your snoring would wake the dead.”
“My snoring? What about you grinding your teeth?” Ianto gradually backed away to stand by the door frame, unsure whether the bickering would stay friendly or not. After all, he didn’t know the history between the 2 immortals, beyond what they had told him which was not a hell of a lot he had to admit.
“I don’t grind my teeth. Or I never used to, must have been annoyed with you last night.”
“Oh terribly annoyed.” They both burst out laughing.
“Adam, you are dreadful.”
“And you’re mean.”
“Live with it. Hotel or short term rent?”
“Short term rent.” He looked over to Ianto “If that’s OK by you, Ianto.”
“It’s fine. I have just the place in mind; in the Brewery Quarter. It's a short distance from the Bay, but it seems an appropriate place for you.” Both Siannon and Methos watched Ianto make his escape, shared a smile. She sighed.
“He’s a nice lad.”
“Seems to be.”
“Don’t break his heart then, will you.”
“I don’t intend to. Why should I?”
“Jack.”
“Ah.”
“Mind you, I’m not sure he knows how he feels himself yet. There was a ‘situation’ he was heavily involved in not long back that everyone is very careful not to mention in front of me, and they have covered up whatever it was very well. Plenty of practice at covering things up, I suppose. Whatever happens between you and Jack, I’m sure Ianto will survive.”
“And that is your real reason for chucking me out.”
“I saw how you looked at each other. I am not having you and Jack Harkness in my house… unless I’m invited to join the fun.”
“We’re not quite up to that stage yet. He hasn’t even kissed me.”
“You’re losing your touch, old man. Even I’ve managed to get snogged by the good Captain and he knows I’m not particularly interested. You have some catching up to do.”
“I’m sure I’ll manage. We have the emotional baggage removal to see to first. Now, what did you want me down here for?” He perched on her desk, as she bent to rummage around in a box near her feet.
“This.” She said, passing the papyrus document to him. He held it closer to the light and peered at it for a few moments. Then he let out a bark of laughter.
“I don’t believe it!”
“Believe what? And what’s so funny?”
“This is one of mine.” He waved the document in the air. “Oh this particular document is a Ptolemaic copy, but the original was written by me. I wonder how Torchwood managed to get hold of it, though I know *why* it ended up here.”
“Would you care to enlighten me? That thing’s been bugging me for days.”
“It’s about The Doctor, and his TARDIS.”
“TARDIS?”
“It looks like a blue box, a 1950s police box to exact. And the Doctor is a friend of Jack’s, though I’ve met him a few times myself. If I’m right, I wrote this not long after I’d met him the first time.”
“This is why you asked me if Jack had ever mentioned him. Time travel. Ugh.”
“Isn’t that a bit hypocritical?”
“At least we only go in one direction, and we don’t just bounce around willy-nilly. If you’re right, it sheds light on the rest of this stuff too.”
“There’s more?”
“No more hieroglyphs, but plenty in Latin and Greek and all mentioning the Doctor and a blue box. Nothing that I recognize as your writing, though most of it is actually copies of earlier documents, like that one.”
“Let me see.” He placed the document with the hieroglyphs to one side and riffled through the pile that Siannon passed to him. “Nope, none of this is mine. Looks like the Doctor has had his own collection of Watchers through time, though. Interesting. Just how long has Torchwood been in existence again?”
“Since 1879. If you look at when the majority were written, you’ll find that there isn’t much that can be dated after the mid-1600s.”
“That implies that whatever organisation there was, it collapsed mid 17th century. I don’t suppose we’ll ever know whether it was due to the British civil war, the Black Death, the Great Fire of London or what. Now this is where a time machine would come in useful...”
“Don’t start, even if I do agree with you. Knowledge is power, and all that.”
“So you were listening, some of the time at least.”
“Some of the time.” She pushed her chair back. “Seeing as you’ve helped solve my little mystery, shall I take you shopping so you can get your new place stocked up?”
“Why not?” He held his arm out to Siannon, who took it with a smile and a bobbed curtsey. Arm in arm they made their way back up to the hub.