Fic: Unspoiled
Title: Unspoiled
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Jack.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1067
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: This is the most amazing planet Ianto has seen so far.
Written For: Prompt ‘Any, Any, bright blooms of all colors,’ at spring_renewal.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Set in my Ghost of a Chance ‘Verse.
Bright flowers, in every colour imaginable and some Ianto feels sure he couldn’t have imagined if he’d tried, are spread across the rolling hills as far as he can see. When he and Jack had landed their shuttle here the previous evening, there’d been nothing much to see, just a grassy, groundcover plant cropped short by the roving herds of native herbivores, stumpy creatures like stunted antelopes crossed with armadillos. Now though…
“What did I tell you?” Jack is all smiles, which is perhaps the only relatively normal aspect of the whole panorama.
“How did they grow so fast?” Ianto knows that even on earth, when the rains come, they can turn dry plains into verdant, flower-filled pastures within a few short weeks, but not overnight! Even as he watches, several more of the fat buds, almost the size of tennis balls, slowly unfurl their petals, spreading them wide and tilting to face the sun.
“Magic.”
“What?”
Jack’s grin widens impossibly, white teeth flashing in the warm sunlight that has replaced the previous night’s heavy downpour. “Not really, but it might as well be. The flowering plants here are just genetically primed to respond to the rains. They grow, all coiled up, beneath the surface, sometimes for years, and then when it rains, softening the ground enough, they burst through and get on with the job of producing seeds as fast as possible.” He shrugs. “Life always finds a way, no matter what conditions it has to deal with. Come on, walk with me.”
Ianto hesitates. “But what about the flowers? I don’t want to damage them!” It would be tragic to crush the large, feathery blooms beneath his clunky human feet.
“They’re a lot tougher than they look,” Jack reassures him. “Just like the native animals, they have to be to survive here.” He shoves at the nearest flower on its three-foot stem, and it simply sways to one side before swinging upright again. “You’d have to make a really determined effort to flatten one.”
“I hope you’re right.” Ianto moves cautiously towards his lover, brushing the flowers aside as he walks, only for them to spring back into place behind him. To the plants, his presence is no more than a momentary inconvenience, there and gone in an instant, no different than a sudden gust of wind. “How are they pollinated?”
“They use every method available to them. The wind, when it blows, the herbivores moving among them, getting pollen on their bodies, and transferring it to other flowers, and the insects of course. It’s not quite warm enough for them to be out and about yet, but give it another half an hour or so, and they’ll be everywhere. They hatch out underground and come to the surface after it rains just like the plants, then feed on nectar, pollinating the flowers as they go, before returning underground to create the next generation. It’s a very self-sufficient ecosystem.”
Ianto sighs, turning in a slow circle, to gaze out across the surrounding hills and valleys, a technicolour paradise. “It’s so beautiful, but what’ll happen to it?”
Jack gives him a quizzical look. “What d’you mean?”
“Well, people must know about this place, otherwise you wouldn’t have known it was here. What’ll happen when settlers arrive and start building cities, tearing up the flowers to make way for their crops, and domesticating the herd animals?”
“Never going to happen. Some planets, like this one, have to remain undeveloped. The Shadow Proclamation has a whole bunch of laws to that effect. People are permitted to visit, as long as they follow the official guidelines, and a certain number of flowers are allowed to be cut and sold elsewhere, although you’d need a special licence to do that, but for the most part planets like this are left alone and monitored from orbit. Natural wonders are to be preserved for future generations to enjoy.”
“I’m glad. I’d hate to think of all this being destroyed in the name of progress. That’s happened way too many times back on earth.”
“Humans have yet to fully understand the importance of taking care of their world. They’ll figure it out eventually. Not soon enough to save all the creatures that’re already close to extinction, but I promise you they’ll get there.”
“I suppose that’s something.”
“The human race is still very young, by galactic standards, and children are always careless with their toys.” At the look Ianto gave him, Jack added, “That’s what the Orthinians say anyway, and they should know better than most.”
“Not even going to ask. What’s that?” Ianto pointed to where something resembling a small rainbow was drifting on the air currents a couple of feet above the flowers, occasionally dipping down towards them.
“One of the insects I told you about. There’ll be more soon.”
Sure enough, within a few minutes there are dozens of them flitting about, wide, transparent wings shimmering with rainbow colours, like flattened-out soap bubbles, supporting small, fuzzy bodies with four legs and long, prehensile tails. They look oddly like flying mice, except they have long tongues, no teeth, and no ears, or whiskers, and the legs are more like flexible tentacles that divide into two prongs at their tips for gripping onto the flowers. One of them lands on Ianto’s shirt front and probes at the buttons with its tongue, seeking nectar that isn’t there.
“I’m not a flower,” he tells it. “Although I suppose it’s an easy mistake to make.” The shirt is, after all, a rather vivid shade of pink. After a moment, the bubble mouse abandons him for a more promising source of nourishment.
Ianto chuckles as it flits away, no more concerned by his presence than the flowers are. He’s of no use to the peculiar insects, but since he’s not a threat either, he can be safely ignored while the insect resumes the more important task of finding food.
Hand in hand, Ianto and Jack stroll among the flowers, breathing in their subtle but heady perfume, and listening to the soft whirr of insect wings. It’s so peaceful they don’t feel any need for conversation, just drinking it all in, last night’s raging storm already a distant memory.
He’s seen some amazing places on his travels with Jack, but Ianto knows this one is going to stick in his mind for as long as he lives.
The End
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Jack.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1067
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: This is the most amazing planet Ianto has seen so far.
Written For: Prompt ‘Any, Any, bright blooms of all colors,’ at spring_renewal.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Set in my Ghost of a Chance ‘Verse.
Bright flowers, in every colour imaginable and some Ianto feels sure he couldn’t have imagined if he’d tried, are spread across the rolling hills as far as he can see. When he and Jack had landed their shuttle here the previous evening, there’d been nothing much to see, just a grassy, groundcover plant cropped short by the roving herds of native herbivores, stumpy creatures like stunted antelopes crossed with armadillos. Now though…
“What did I tell you?” Jack is all smiles, which is perhaps the only relatively normal aspect of the whole panorama.
“How did they grow so fast?” Ianto knows that even on earth, when the rains come, they can turn dry plains into verdant, flower-filled pastures within a few short weeks, but not overnight! Even as he watches, several more of the fat buds, almost the size of tennis balls, slowly unfurl their petals, spreading them wide and tilting to face the sun.
“Magic.”
“What?”
Jack’s grin widens impossibly, white teeth flashing in the warm sunlight that has replaced the previous night’s heavy downpour. “Not really, but it might as well be. The flowering plants here are just genetically primed to respond to the rains. They grow, all coiled up, beneath the surface, sometimes for years, and then when it rains, softening the ground enough, they burst through and get on with the job of producing seeds as fast as possible.” He shrugs. “Life always finds a way, no matter what conditions it has to deal with. Come on, walk with me.”
Ianto hesitates. “But what about the flowers? I don’t want to damage them!” It would be tragic to crush the large, feathery blooms beneath his clunky human feet.
“They’re a lot tougher than they look,” Jack reassures him. “Just like the native animals, they have to be to survive here.” He shoves at the nearest flower on its three-foot stem, and it simply sways to one side before swinging upright again. “You’d have to make a really determined effort to flatten one.”
“I hope you’re right.” Ianto moves cautiously towards his lover, brushing the flowers aside as he walks, only for them to spring back into place behind him. To the plants, his presence is no more than a momentary inconvenience, there and gone in an instant, no different than a sudden gust of wind. “How are they pollinated?”
“They use every method available to them. The wind, when it blows, the herbivores moving among them, getting pollen on their bodies, and transferring it to other flowers, and the insects of course. It’s not quite warm enough for them to be out and about yet, but give it another half an hour or so, and they’ll be everywhere. They hatch out underground and come to the surface after it rains just like the plants, then feed on nectar, pollinating the flowers as they go, before returning underground to create the next generation. It’s a very self-sufficient ecosystem.”
Ianto sighs, turning in a slow circle, to gaze out across the surrounding hills and valleys, a technicolour paradise. “It’s so beautiful, but what’ll happen to it?”
Jack gives him a quizzical look. “What d’you mean?”
“Well, people must know about this place, otherwise you wouldn’t have known it was here. What’ll happen when settlers arrive and start building cities, tearing up the flowers to make way for their crops, and domesticating the herd animals?”
“Never going to happen. Some planets, like this one, have to remain undeveloped. The Shadow Proclamation has a whole bunch of laws to that effect. People are permitted to visit, as long as they follow the official guidelines, and a certain number of flowers are allowed to be cut and sold elsewhere, although you’d need a special licence to do that, but for the most part planets like this are left alone and monitored from orbit. Natural wonders are to be preserved for future generations to enjoy.”
“I’m glad. I’d hate to think of all this being destroyed in the name of progress. That’s happened way too many times back on earth.”
“Humans have yet to fully understand the importance of taking care of their world. They’ll figure it out eventually. Not soon enough to save all the creatures that’re already close to extinction, but I promise you they’ll get there.”
“I suppose that’s something.”
“The human race is still very young, by galactic standards, and children are always careless with their toys.” At the look Ianto gave him, Jack added, “That’s what the Orthinians say anyway, and they should know better than most.”
“Not even going to ask. What’s that?” Ianto pointed to where something resembling a small rainbow was drifting on the air currents a couple of feet above the flowers, occasionally dipping down towards them.
“One of the insects I told you about. There’ll be more soon.”
Sure enough, within a few minutes there are dozens of them flitting about, wide, transparent wings shimmering with rainbow colours, like flattened-out soap bubbles, supporting small, fuzzy bodies with four legs and long, prehensile tails. They look oddly like flying mice, except they have long tongues, no teeth, and no ears, or whiskers, and the legs are more like flexible tentacles that divide into two prongs at their tips for gripping onto the flowers. One of them lands on Ianto’s shirt front and probes at the buttons with its tongue, seeking nectar that isn’t there.
“I’m not a flower,” he tells it. “Although I suppose it’s an easy mistake to make.” The shirt is, after all, a rather vivid shade of pink. After a moment, the bubble mouse abandons him for a more promising source of nourishment.
Ianto chuckles as it flits away, no more concerned by his presence than the flowers are. He’s of no use to the peculiar insects, but since he’s not a threat either, he can be safely ignored while the insect resumes the more important task of finding food.
Hand in hand, Ianto and Jack stroll among the flowers, breathing in their subtle but heady perfume, and listening to the soft whirr of insect wings. It’s so peaceful they don’t feel any need for conversation, just drinking it all in, last night’s raging storm already a distant memory.
He’s seen some amazing places on his travels with Jack, but Ianto knows this one is going to stick in his mind for as long as he lives.
The End