Fic: Mysterious Footprints - Part 2-3
Title: Mysterious Footprints - Part 2-3
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Jack, Ianto.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Nada
Summary: Jack finds the source of the mysterious footprints, but it’s certainly not what he was expecting!
Word Count: 1365
Written For: Challenge 206: Footprint at beattheblackdog.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
Part 1
As Jack turned from the door and slipped silently around the partition just inside, taking a slow, deep breath in preparation for facing the unknown foe, a familiar voice came from beyond the open door to Ianto’s locker.
“Jack? Do you know if I happen to have any clean underwear in your bunker? Looks like Owen’s made off with my last new pair again; I wish he’d buy his own instead of taking mine all the time. I suppose I could go without, but it’s a bit chilly today and the wind whips right through the fabric of my spare suit. It’s not the best choice for spring in Cardiff, better for summer wear, on the rare occasions we actually get anything that could be described as summer weather, but it’s all I’ve got left down here what with my jeans getting mucked up on last night’s Weevil hunt.”
“Ianto? Is that you?” Now Jack was puzzled. Where were the sneaky aliens he’d been tracking, and when did Ianto get back to the Hub?
“Of course it’s me, Twpsyn.” The locker door closed as hangers containing a clean suit and a shirt and tie were hung on the outside, ready for the clothing to be put on. “Who else would it be?”
“That’s a very good question.” Jack stared at the nothingness in front of him. Looking down he could see a jumble of silvery footprints on the floor, and there were silvery traces on the locker door, but aside from that and the disembodied voice, he might have been alone in the room. “How do I know you are who you say you are?” He aimed his Webley in the general direction of where the voice seemed to be coming from, a few feet above the footprints.
“What d’you mean how do you know?” The voice sounded exasperated. “Don’t I look like me?”
“Actually, no. Right now you don’t look like much of anything.”
“What are you talking about, Jack? I’m not in the mood for games!”
“You’re invisible.”
“What? No I’m not, don’t be ridiculous! I can’t be invisible; I can see myself clear as day.”
“Well I can’t. Have you looked in a mirror lately?”
There was a gusty sigh. “If this is your idea of a joke, it’s in very poor taste after the morning I’ve had!” Ianto’s voice muttered. Then the footprints made their way around the bank of metal lockers to the area where a long mirror graced the wall above a row of sinks.
Jack followed; he might not be able to see the being that was claiming to be Ianto, but the footprints at least allowed him to keep track of it, plus the scanner was definitely registering the presence of something alive, and a quick thermal scan showed a basically human-shaped entity.
“What the…”
At Ianto’s shocked exclamation Jack glanced up from the scanner’s small screen and met his own reflection in the mirror. No one else was visible.
“Now d’you believe me?”
“But I can see myself! Why don’t I have a reflection?” There was a very Ianto-like huff of annoyance. “Must be that blasted alien. As if melting every stitch of clothing off me wasn’t bad enough…” He trailed off into a string of muttered but vehement curses.
Despite himself and the situation, Jack was amused; Ianto seldom swore but he had quite an impressive vocabulary.
“Ianto Jones, I’m shocked! Do you kiss your sister with that mouth?”
“I think I’m entitled to be a bit put out,” Invisible Ianto replied stiffly. “That was a very nice, not to mention expensive, suit and the shoes were almost new! Italian leather!”
Jack couldn’t imagine an alien intruder being so upset about the loss of clothing, no matter how well tailored. He lowered his gun, slipping the safety back on. “You certainly sound like my Ianto.”
“That’s because I am Ianto, although I’m not sure how I feel about being addressed as your personal property. Sod it! This day just keeps getting worse.” Silvery handprints appeared on the countertop between two of the sinks. “Why does the universe hate me?”
“I’m sure it doesn’t,” Jack said, trying to sound properly sympathetic and supportive. “How could anything hate you? You’re just having a bad day. It happens to everyone.”
“Only for most people, having a bad day involves losing their car keys, missing the bus, and being late for work, not having their clothes melted off them and being turned invisible.” There was a heavy sigh. “Still, at least now I know why I wasn’t arrested for streaking though Cardiff city centre. God, what must people have thought seeing a car travelling along the roads with no one behind the wheel? It’s a miracle I wasn’t pulled over!”
“Even the Cardiff police might have trouble arresting the invisible man, and what would they have charged you with anyway? Driving while invisible? Being invisible without a licence?” Jack didn’t bother hiding his amusement. “I doubt any laws exist that fit your… situation, even the one against public nudity. I mean, it’s not as if anyone saw you, which is kind of a shame now I think about it.”
“Has anyone ever told you how very NOT hilarious you are?” Ianto grumbled.
“Oh come on! You’ve got to see the funny side of this!” Jack wheedled.
“No, I really don’t. There’s nothing at all funny about this, not from where I’m standing.”
“Where would that be? Seriously, all I can see are the footprints you’re leaving everywhere and with you pacing back and forth like that they’re so jumbled I’m not sure exactly where you are.”
“Footprints? What footprints?”
“Don’t tell me you can’t see them.”
“I’m leaving footprints? What sort of footprints?” Ianto’s voice had gone up in pitch.
“Um, sort of silvery? Like a snail trail, only made by bare human feet.”
Ianto groaned in despair. “So you’re telling me I’ve left a trail right through the Hub?”
“Yep! I followed it, that’s how I found you. Sort of. I thought the Hub was being infiltrated by aliens, so I was trying to capture them. I didn’t know I was tracking a naked, invisible Welshman. Can’t say I’m disappointed though. I’m glad it’s you and not aliens, although I would’ve preferred a naked, visible Welshman.”
“I’m sure you would have.” The tone was so dry, even though he couldn’t see it Jack instinctively knew Ianto must be rolling his eyes. “So somehow my feet are leaving marks on whatever they touch? That’s just wonderful.”
“It’s not just your feet,” Jack told his invisible lover helpfully. “You’re leaving handprints too. I’m guessing whatever’s making you invisible is sort of transferring to whatever you touch.”
There was silence for a long moment, then…
“Oh God!” the dismay was palpable.
“What’s wrong?”
“It I’m leaving marks on everything I touch, that would mean I’ve left a gigantic naked arse print on the driver’s seat of my car! I just had it cleaned!”
“Not gigantic,” Jack soothed. “You have a very shapely arse.”
“That’s not exactly comforting, Jack. I’m naked, invisible, and leaving a human snail trail on everything! Every time I think my day can’t possibly get any worse, it does!”
“Hey, it’s not as bad as all that; there’s no reason to panic!”
“That’s easy for you to say, and who said I was panicking anyway? Because I’m not, I’m just understandably put out. This is not the way today was supposed to go.”
“That’s often the case in our line of work,” Jack said with a sympathetic smile. “Just take a deep breath and calm down. We’re Torchwood; we deal with situations like this all the time. I know you’re not enjoying this as much as I am, but I’m sure it’s only temporary. Now, why don’t we see it we can figure things out? You can start by telling me exactly how this…” Jack waved his hand towards where he thought Ianto was standing, “happened. I’m guessing it was something alien.”
“I already said it was. Isn’t it always?” Ianto’s footprints moved away from the sink. “Mind if we sit down?”
“Not at all. Lead the way.”
TBC in Part 3
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Jack, Ianto.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Nada
Summary: Jack finds the source of the mysterious footprints, but it’s certainly not what he was expecting!
Word Count: 1365
Written For: Challenge 206: Footprint at beattheblackdog.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
Part 1
As Jack turned from the door and slipped silently around the partition just inside, taking a slow, deep breath in preparation for facing the unknown foe, a familiar voice came from beyond the open door to Ianto’s locker.
“Jack? Do you know if I happen to have any clean underwear in your bunker? Looks like Owen’s made off with my last new pair again; I wish he’d buy his own instead of taking mine all the time. I suppose I could go without, but it’s a bit chilly today and the wind whips right through the fabric of my spare suit. It’s not the best choice for spring in Cardiff, better for summer wear, on the rare occasions we actually get anything that could be described as summer weather, but it’s all I’ve got left down here what with my jeans getting mucked up on last night’s Weevil hunt.”
“Ianto? Is that you?” Now Jack was puzzled. Where were the sneaky aliens he’d been tracking, and when did Ianto get back to the Hub?
“Of course it’s me, Twpsyn.” The locker door closed as hangers containing a clean suit and a shirt and tie were hung on the outside, ready for the clothing to be put on. “Who else would it be?”
“That’s a very good question.” Jack stared at the nothingness in front of him. Looking down he could see a jumble of silvery footprints on the floor, and there were silvery traces on the locker door, but aside from that and the disembodied voice, he might have been alone in the room. “How do I know you are who you say you are?” He aimed his Webley in the general direction of where the voice seemed to be coming from, a few feet above the footprints.
“What d’you mean how do you know?” The voice sounded exasperated. “Don’t I look like me?”
“Actually, no. Right now you don’t look like much of anything.”
“What are you talking about, Jack? I’m not in the mood for games!”
“You’re invisible.”
“What? No I’m not, don’t be ridiculous! I can’t be invisible; I can see myself clear as day.”
“Well I can’t. Have you looked in a mirror lately?”
There was a gusty sigh. “If this is your idea of a joke, it’s in very poor taste after the morning I’ve had!” Ianto’s voice muttered. Then the footprints made their way around the bank of metal lockers to the area where a long mirror graced the wall above a row of sinks.
Jack followed; he might not be able to see the being that was claiming to be Ianto, but the footprints at least allowed him to keep track of it, plus the scanner was definitely registering the presence of something alive, and a quick thermal scan showed a basically human-shaped entity.
“What the…”
At Ianto’s shocked exclamation Jack glanced up from the scanner’s small screen and met his own reflection in the mirror. No one else was visible.
“Now d’you believe me?”
“But I can see myself! Why don’t I have a reflection?” There was a very Ianto-like huff of annoyance. “Must be that blasted alien. As if melting every stitch of clothing off me wasn’t bad enough…” He trailed off into a string of muttered but vehement curses.
Despite himself and the situation, Jack was amused; Ianto seldom swore but he had quite an impressive vocabulary.
“Ianto Jones, I’m shocked! Do you kiss your sister with that mouth?”
“I think I’m entitled to be a bit put out,” Invisible Ianto replied stiffly. “That was a very nice, not to mention expensive, suit and the shoes were almost new! Italian leather!”
Jack couldn’t imagine an alien intruder being so upset about the loss of clothing, no matter how well tailored. He lowered his gun, slipping the safety back on. “You certainly sound like my Ianto.”
“That’s because I am Ianto, although I’m not sure how I feel about being addressed as your personal property. Sod it! This day just keeps getting worse.” Silvery handprints appeared on the countertop between two of the sinks. “Why does the universe hate me?”
“I’m sure it doesn’t,” Jack said, trying to sound properly sympathetic and supportive. “How could anything hate you? You’re just having a bad day. It happens to everyone.”
“Only for most people, having a bad day involves losing their car keys, missing the bus, and being late for work, not having their clothes melted off them and being turned invisible.” There was a heavy sigh. “Still, at least now I know why I wasn’t arrested for streaking though Cardiff city centre. God, what must people have thought seeing a car travelling along the roads with no one behind the wheel? It’s a miracle I wasn’t pulled over!”
“Even the Cardiff police might have trouble arresting the invisible man, and what would they have charged you with anyway? Driving while invisible? Being invisible without a licence?” Jack didn’t bother hiding his amusement. “I doubt any laws exist that fit your… situation, even the one against public nudity. I mean, it’s not as if anyone saw you, which is kind of a shame now I think about it.”
“Has anyone ever told you how very NOT hilarious you are?” Ianto grumbled.
“Oh come on! You’ve got to see the funny side of this!” Jack wheedled.
“No, I really don’t. There’s nothing at all funny about this, not from where I’m standing.”
“Where would that be? Seriously, all I can see are the footprints you’re leaving everywhere and with you pacing back and forth like that they’re so jumbled I’m not sure exactly where you are.”
“Footprints? What footprints?”
“Don’t tell me you can’t see them.”
“I’m leaving footprints? What sort of footprints?” Ianto’s voice had gone up in pitch.
“Um, sort of silvery? Like a snail trail, only made by bare human feet.”
Ianto groaned in despair. “So you’re telling me I’ve left a trail right through the Hub?”
“Yep! I followed it, that’s how I found you. Sort of. I thought the Hub was being infiltrated by aliens, so I was trying to capture them. I didn’t know I was tracking a naked, invisible Welshman. Can’t say I’m disappointed though. I’m glad it’s you and not aliens, although I would’ve preferred a naked, visible Welshman.”
“I’m sure you would have.” The tone was so dry, even though he couldn’t see it Jack instinctively knew Ianto must be rolling his eyes. “So somehow my feet are leaving marks on whatever they touch? That’s just wonderful.”
“It’s not just your feet,” Jack told his invisible lover helpfully. “You’re leaving handprints too. I’m guessing whatever’s making you invisible is sort of transferring to whatever you touch.”
There was silence for a long moment, then…
“Oh God!” the dismay was palpable.
“What’s wrong?”
“It I’m leaving marks on everything I touch, that would mean I’ve left a gigantic naked arse print on the driver’s seat of my car! I just had it cleaned!”
“Not gigantic,” Jack soothed. “You have a very shapely arse.”
“That’s not exactly comforting, Jack. I’m naked, invisible, and leaving a human snail trail on everything! Every time I think my day can’t possibly get any worse, it does!”
“Hey, it’s not as bad as all that; there’s no reason to panic!”
“That’s easy for you to say, and who said I was panicking anyway? Because I’m not, I’m just understandably put out. This is not the way today was supposed to go.”
“That’s often the case in our line of work,” Jack said with a sympathetic smile. “Just take a deep breath and calm down. We’re Torchwood; we deal with situations like this all the time. I know you’re not enjoying this as much as I am, but I’m sure it’s only temporary. Now, why don’t we see it we can figure things out? You can start by telling me exactly how this…” Jack waved his hand towards where he thought Ianto was standing, “happened. I’m guessing it was something alien.”
“I already said it was. Isn’t it always?” Ianto’s footprints moved away from the sink. “Mind if we sit down?”
“Not at all. Lead the way.”
TBC in Part 3