Shadows Bring the Starlight
Title: Shadows Bring the Starlight
Rating: Teen
Summary: Ianto Jones felt like something was missing. He wasn’t certain what it was, but he was certain it was important.
Setting: AU after Season 1
Disclaimer: I own nothing, certainly not Torchwood.
A/N: Written for torchwood_fest for megans_writing. Thank you to penelope_tweed for helping me wade through my mess of ideas and to czarina_kitty for super last minute the beta. Title comes from "Those You've Known" from the musical Spring Awakening by Steven Sater and Duncan Sheik.
Follows Those You've Known
Ianto Jones felt like something was missing from his life. He wasn’t certain what it was, but he was certain that it was important. The doctors said that was to be expected though, so he tried not to dwell. They said that he’d made remarkable progress; that he was recovering. Still, missing nearly three years of memory would be enough to throw anyone a bit off kilter, he figured. He didn’t remember the catastrophic fire and poorly designed blast doors that had killed nearly everyone in his workplace in London, including his girlfriend. He didn’t remember her either, and that thought always caused a guilty knot to roll uncomfortably in his stomach. Ianto wondered if it was still considered survivor’s guilt if he didn’t remember the incident.
Somewhere along the way, he’d moved back to Cardiff. He’d woken up in hospital several months ago now, with no idea how he got there. The doctors warned that he may never regain those memories after suffering severe head trauma. From what he’d heard of them, from the scars that marred his skin, from the brief flashes of nightmares that plagued his dreams, he wasn’t certain he wanted to.
Still, despite all that, he was now back to being a productive member of society. He was a home owner, thanks to a settlement from the accident, he did good work at the local library, and he donated time to charitable causes. No matter how much he gave, though, it never felt like enough.
Overall, he was content. Some days he would go so far as to say he was happy. Others not so much with the nagging empty feeling taking hold. He wished he could remember, but the doctors assured him that it was his brain protecting him, that he may not ever regain his memories, and that was alright. He could still go on and be a productive member of society. On good days, he believed them.
Today, he decided as he walked into the coffee shop across the street from the library where he worked, was a good day. Ianto could just feel it. His deep red Converse shoes squeaked a bit on the linoleum floor, drawing the gaze of the blushing barista behind the counter. Ianto removed his glasses, brushing the beaded moisture from the lenses with his handkerchief. That was better. Now he could see that Stephanie was blushing so furiously because the gentleman at the counter was flirting outrageously with everyone in sight. Oh, and the gentleman was about to make a mistake. Ordering the French roast here was like drinking coffee made with used dishwater. “You don’t want that,” Ianto interjected with confidence.
The man visibly tensed at the sound of his voice before slowly turning to face Ianto. He raked his eyes over Ianto, taking in the Converse, jeans, slightly damp jacket, and the glasses. The man was handsome, smelled delicious, and, just for a moment when their eyes first locked, his eyes held such sorrow it was heartbreaking. He masked it quickly with the most brilliant smile Ianto had ever seen. “I don’t?” he asked with a quirked eyebrow.
“Nope.” Ianto slid by the gentleman and up to the counter. “Hi Stephanie, two of my usual please.” The man opened his mouth to protest, but Ianto raised a hand to silence him and added, “On me. And, if you don’t like it, I’ll buy you that coffee too.”
Ianto could feel the man’s eyes on him as he paid for and collected the drinks. It took conscious effort not to fidget under that intense gaze. It was as if the other man was searching for something, only Ianto had no idea what. It made him uncomfortable. He didn’t like not knowing things. Forcing the feeling away, he turned again, smiled, handed the man his paper cup and waited expectantly.
The man took the hint, saluted Ianto with his cup, and took a healthy swig. “Wow. Thank you, Ia- I didn’t catch your name.”
“Jones. Ianto Jones. And you’re welcome, Captain.”
The man’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “How did you…” He looked strangely hopeful.
“I know everything,” Ianto said, with mock superiority. “Also, it says so right here,” he pointed to the insignia on the Captain’s coat.
The Captain’s face fell and that sorrow was back for a moment before he could mask it again. He did it with bravado and a healthy handshake. “Captain Jack Harkness. And you, Jones, Ianto Jones, were right. This is exactly what I wanted.” Jack saluted him with the cup again. “You have powers, Mr. Jones.”
“That’s me: saving the world one cup of coffee at a time.”
“I’m sure you are, Mr. Jones.” That time there was a leer attached. It was then that it occurred to Ianto that he was actually flirting with the man. Huh. That was a new development -he thought it was at any rate. He was surprised to find that he didn’t have any qualms about it.
“Ianto, please.”
“Ianto then. I’ll see you around?” That hopeful look was back. It baffled Ianto, and made his stomach flutter in a way he wasn’t entirely comfortable with.
“Perhaps you will, Captain,” Ianto said as he headed for the door. “By the way, love the coat.” He had just enough time to register the dumbfounded look on Jack’s face before he turned and headed for work. Yeah, that had definitely been flirting. It was with some surprise that Ianto found that he hoped that he did see the Captain again.
***
As it turned out, they did see each other again; several times, in fact, over the next few weeks. Within a week they’d had coffee twice, exchanged phone numbers, and settled into a routine of sorts of late night phone calls. Sometimes Jack had to hang up abruptly, or he didn’t call at all. He had some fancy government job, he said. All very boring, he said. Ianto still thought that Captain Jack Harkness’ secret government superhero was a much more impressive title than Ianto Jones: ordinary bloke. He didn’t understand why Jack was interested in him of all people, but it seemed to be true. Jack called nearly every night.
Ianto couldn’t explain it, and absolutely loathed the cliché, but he felt like he’d known Jack for years. They spoke like old friends, revealing little pieces of themselves from the safety of a phone line.
***
“’lo?” a gravelly, groggy voice answered the incessant ringing.
“Ianto? -oh! Sorry, I didn’t realize the time.”
“S’okay. I was having the robot dream again anyway.” Ianto paused, frowned, then asked in a small voice, “Can we pretend I didn’t say that?” He cringed as Jack chuckled.
“Why’d you answer so late, anyway?”
“To stop the ringing.” Ianto sounded so very unimpressed; Jack laughed again. Ianto fumbled around his night table, and cursed when he sent his glasses clattering to the floor. “Dropped my glasses,” he explained.
“What’s with those anyway?” Jack asked, sounding genuinely curious.
“Used to wear contacts, but can’t seem to manage them anymore.”
“Is that why you’re always messing with them?”
“Am I? I suppose I’m not used to them yet. What about you?” Asking seemed like the polite thing to do.
“Perfect eyesight.” Jack sounded so proud.
Ianto yawned, and muttered sleepily, “And teeth, and hair…” abs and arse went unsaid.
“Practically perfect in every way,” Jack sung.
“I’ll phone Julie Andrews, let her know she’s got some competition.”
***
“You let her do it?”
“I was four! And Rhi is six years older than I am, and you should see her once she gets an idea in her head.”
“Oh, I hope I can talk her into sharing pictures. What I wouldn’t give to see wee Ianto all made up.”
“Oi, no fair charming the sister.”
“No?”
“No. Especially when you haven’t even charmed me yet. There’s a proper order to these things, you know.”
“I’ll get right on that.”
***
“… And then she came on to me!”
“Oh, she did not,” was gasped between peals laughter
“I swear, I swear!”
“After… with her sister! Oh you are having me on.”
“Not yet, but I’d like to.”
The laughter died, replaced with a sultry growl, “Why Captain, are you coming on to me now?”
“Oh honey, you have no idea.”
***
It was strange, Ianto thought, flirting with a man. Not strange in itself, really, but strange because it wasn’t strange. Flirting with Jack just seemed natural, like it was just what was done with Captain Jack Harkness. Since it never went anywhere past flirting, Ianto also figured that was simply what Captain Jack Harkness did. They were friends, nothing more. Still, Ianto couldn’t deny that he was physically attracted to the man.
***
Ianto truly enjoyed working in the library, even if it was a bit dull. He had all this information just waiting for him to explore, to share with others. Everything had its proper place, and he knew where everything belonged. He was thrilled when a large private collection had been donated to the library and he assigned to sort it out. He catalogued, sorted, and found proper places for all of it. He was in his element. Here he made chaos into order and it was glorious.
At least it was most of the time it was glorious. As he was standing on the ladder adjusting the fairy lights along with the various nondenominational holiday decorations that had been torn down and moved about, he wasn’t quite able to see the appeal. At least the books hadn’t been defaced. That was something. Still, despite the library’s attempt to be festive, Ianto wasn’t quite feeling the holiday spirit.
Ianto started when he heard a wolf whistle from below. “If I had known the library came with this view, I’d be here every day,” the flirtatious tones of one Captain Jack Harkness broke through the formerly peaceful silence. Ianto started down the ladder, but the Captain laughed, “Really, don’t rush on my account.”
Reaching the bottom of the ladder, Ianto turned and poked Jack in the chest, “You are incorrigible.”
Jack grabbed his hand and pulled, bringing Ianto off balance and well into Jack’s personal space. He placed a hand on the Captain’s chest to steady himself, but was prevented from backing away by an insistent hand on his hip and Jack’s refusal to release his hand. “Yup. And you like me that way. It’s part of my charm.”
“Too bad you’re not half as charming as you think you are,” Ianto attempted to smirk, but landed somewhere in the vicinity of wan smile. It was weird, very weird. This was the most physical contact they’d had, the first time flirting had lead to something more, the closest they’d been to each other, but it felt so natural.
Jack leaned in closer, close enough that Ianto could feel the heat from his skin, his breath on his face. “Am too.” And that was it, the build up to their first kiss. Their lips met. It was simple, it was chaste, and it was brilliant. There was no clacking of teeth, or nose bumping, or fumbling hands. They simply slotted together, like they fit, as if they’d always belonged just like that.
The kiss broke and Ianto felt Jack begin to pull away. No, not yet. Ianto slid a hand to rest on the back of Jack’s neck, pulling him back in for another, deeper kiss. There was… there was something, something that he was so close to remembering, he could feel it. Jack buried a hand in his hair, blunt fingernails scraping against the base of his skull just the way he liked. Ianto gasped into the kiss and suddenly he knew. He knew that if he nipped on Jack’s lower lip just so, the other man would make a delicious humming sound. He knew that if he kissed the soft spot behind Jack’s ear, the other man would moan and tilt his head to the side to give him more access. He knew that if he rubbed gentle circles on the small of Jack’s back, the other man would arch into him. He knew the way Jack moaned when he teased his nipples, the way he’d curse and arch when Ianto entered him, how beautiful he was when he came. He knew the way his muscles rippled below, above, around him.
Ianto didn’t understand it. They had met five weeks ago in the coffee shop, he remembered that. But he also remembered glimpses of places he’d never been, a history he didn’t have, and none of it fit. The kiss broke again, and the two men stood with their foreheads pressed together catching their breath. He knew every inch of this gorgeous man, but not the most important thing, “Who are you?” he breathed.
Jack pulled back and grinned. “I am Captain Jack Harkness. You are Ianto Jones -my beautiful, brilliant, Jones, Ianto Jones. And I am going to get you back. I swear it.” He reached up and straightened Ianto’s skewed glasses, hands lingering on the Welshman’s face.
Now that just created more questions than answers. “Jack… what…?”
Jack kissed him again to silence his protests, pulling back with another grin and hands fumbling in the pockets of his coat before shoving a small box into Ianto’s hands. “I swear. Happy Christmas Ianto.” One final kiss and Jack bolted leaving a bewildered Ianto behind with no answers.
Ianto stared after the Captain, feeling completely confused and a bit distraught. He was upset that Jack had just left him like that. He looked down at the small package clutched against his stomach. It was a small brown box, no distinguishing markings, no card. Ianto pulled open the top and nestled inside was a beautiful antique stopwatch. He slid it into his hand, and it too felt natural there, like it belonged to him, like it always had.
Ianto was still bewildered - the watch didn’t trigger anything else. Maybe it was just a message -the Captain didn’t do subtle, after all. It was a stopwatch; maybe all he needed was more time.
Rating: Teen
Summary: Ianto Jones felt like something was missing. He wasn’t certain what it was, but he was certain it was important.
Setting: AU after Season 1
Disclaimer: I own nothing, certainly not Torchwood.
A/N: Written for torchwood_fest for megans_writing. Thank you to penelope_tweed for helping me wade through my mess of ideas and to czarina_kitty for super last minute the beta. Title comes from "Those You've Known" from the musical Spring Awakening by Steven Sater and Duncan Sheik.
Follows Those You've Known
Ianto Jones felt like something was missing from his life. He wasn’t certain what it was, but he was certain that it was important. The doctors said that was to be expected though, so he tried not to dwell. They said that he’d made remarkable progress; that he was recovering. Still, missing nearly three years of memory would be enough to throw anyone a bit off kilter, he figured. He didn’t remember the catastrophic fire and poorly designed blast doors that had killed nearly everyone in his workplace in London, including his girlfriend. He didn’t remember her either, and that thought always caused a guilty knot to roll uncomfortably in his stomach. Ianto wondered if it was still considered survivor’s guilt if he didn’t remember the incident.
Somewhere along the way, he’d moved back to Cardiff. He’d woken up in hospital several months ago now, with no idea how he got there. The doctors warned that he may never regain those memories after suffering severe head trauma. From what he’d heard of them, from the scars that marred his skin, from the brief flashes of nightmares that plagued his dreams, he wasn’t certain he wanted to.
Still, despite all that, he was now back to being a productive member of society. He was a home owner, thanks to a settlement from the accident, he did good work at the local library, and he donated time to charitable causes. No matter how much he gave, though, it never felt like enough.
Overall, he was content. Some days he would go so far as to say he was happy. Others not so much with the nagging empty feeling taking hold. He wished he could remember, but the doctors assured him that it was his brain protecting him, that he may not ever regain his memories, and that was alright. He could still go on and be a productive member of society. On good days, he believed them.
Today, he decided as he walked into the coffee shop across the street from the library where he worked, was a good day. Ianto could just feel it. His deep red Converse shoes squeaked a bit on the linoleum floor, drawing the gaze of the blushing barista behind the counter. Ianto removed his glasses, brushing the beaded moisture from the lenses with his handkerchief. That was better. Now he could see that Stephanie was blushing so furiously because the gentleman at the counter was flirting outrageously with everyone in sight. Oh, and the gentleman was about to make a mistake. Ordering the French roast here was like drinking coffee made with used dishwater. “You don’t want that,” Ianto interjected with confidence.
The man visibly tensed at the sound of his voice before slowly turning to face Ianto. He raked his eyes over Ianto, taking in the Converse, jeans, slightly damp jacket, and the glasses. The man was handsome, smelled delicious, and, just for a moment when their eyes first locked, his eyes held such sorrow it was heartbreaking. He masked it quickly with the most brilliant smile Ianto had ever seen. “I don’t?” he asked with a quirked eyebrow.
“Nope.” Ianto slid by the gentleman and up to the counter. “Hi Stephanie, two of my usual please.” The man opened his mouth to protest, but Ianto raised a hand to silence him and added, “On me. And, if you don’t like it, I’ll buy you that coffee too.”
Ianto could feel the man’s eyes on him as he paid for and collected the drinks. It took conscious effort not to fidget under that intense gaze. It was as if the other man was searching for something, only Ianto had no idea what. It made him uncomfortable. He didn’t like not knowing things. Forcing the feeling away, he turned again, smiled, handed the man his paper cup and waited expectantly.
The man took the hint, saluted Ianto with his cup, and took a healthy swig. “Wow. Thank you, Ia- I didn’t catch your name.”
“Jones. Ianto Jones. And you’re welcome, Captain.”
The man’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “How did you…” He looked strangely hopeful.
“I know everything,” Ianto said, with mock superiority. “Also, it says so right here,” he pointed to the insignia on the Captain’s coat.
The Captain’s face fell and that sorrow was back for a moment before he could mask it again. He did it with bravado and a healthy handshake. “Captain Jack Harkness. And you, Jones, Ianto Jones, were right. This is exactly what I wanted.” Jack saluted him with the cup again. “You have powers, Mr. Jones.”
“That’s me: saving the world one cup of coffee at a time.”
“I’m sure you are, Mr. Jones.” That time there was a leer attached. It was then that it occurred to Ianto that he was actually flirting with the man. Huh. That was a new development -he thought it was at any rate. He was surprised to find that he didn’t have any qualms about it.
“Ianto, please.”
“Ianto then. I’ll see you around?” That hopeful look was back. It baffled Ianto, and made his stomach flutter in a way he wasn’t entirely comfortable with.
“Perhaps you will, Captain,” Ianto said as he headed for the door. “By the way, love the coat.” He had just enough time to register the dumbfounded look on Jack’s face before he turned and headed for work. Yeah, that had definitely been flirting. It was with some surprise that Ianto found that he hoped that he did see the Captain again.
***
As it turned out, they did see each other again; several times, in fact, over the next few weeks. Within a week they’d had coffee twice, exchanged phone numbers, and settled into a routine of sorts of late night phone calls. Sometimes Jack had to hang up abruptly, or he didn’t call at all. He had some fancy government job, he said. All very boring, he said. Ianto still thought that Captain Jack Harkness’ secret government superhero was a much more impressive title than Ianto Jones: ordinary bloke. He didn’t understand why Jack was interested in him of all people, but it seemed to be true. Jack called nearly every night.
Ianto couldn’t explain it, and absolutely loathed the cliché, but he felt like he’d known Jack for years. They spoke like old friends, revealing little pieces of themselves from the safety of a phone line.
***
“’lo?” a gravelly, groggy voice answered the incessant ringing.
“Ianto? -oh! Sorry, I didn’t realize the time.”
“S’okay. I was having the robot dream again anyway.” Ianto paused, frowned, then asked in a small voice, “Can we pretend I didn’t say that?” He cringed as Jack chuckled.
“Why’d you answer so late, anyway?”
“To stop the ringing.” Ianto sounded so very unimpressed; Jack laughed again. Ianto fumbled around his night table, and cursed when he sent his glasses clattering to the floor. “Dropped my glasses,” he explained.
“What’s with those anyway?” Jack asked, sounding genuinely curious.
“Used to wear contacts, but can’t seem to manage them anymore.”
“Is that why you’re always messing with them?”
“Am I? I suppose I’m not used to them yet. What about you?” Asking seemed like the polite thing to do.
“Perfect eyesight.” Jack sounded so proud.
Ianto yawned, and muttered sleepily, “And teeth, and hair…” abs and arse went unsaid.
“Practically perfect in every way,” Jack sung.
“I’ll phone Julie Andrews, let her know she’s got some competition.”
***
“You let her do it?”
“I was four! And Rhi is six years older than I am, and you should see her once she gets an idea in her head.”
“Oh, I hope I can talk her into sharing pictures. What I wouldn’t give to see wee Ianto all made up.”
“Oi, no fair charming the sister.”
“No?”
“No. Especially when you haven’t even charmed me yet. There’s a proper order to these things, you know.”
“I’ll get right on that.”
***
“… And then she came on to me!”
“Oh, she did not,” was gasped between peals laughter
“I swear, I swear!”
“After… with her sister! Oh you are having me on.”
“Not yet, but I’d like to.”
The laughter died, replaced with a sultry growl, “Why Captain, are you coming on to me now?”
“Oh honey, you have no idea.”
***
It was strange, Ianto thought, flirting with a man. Not strange in itself, really, but strange because it wasn’t strange. Flirting with Jack just seemed natural, like it was just what was done with Captain Jack Harkness. Since it never went anywhere past flirting, Ianto also figured that was simply what Captain Jack Harkness did. They were friends, nothing more. Still, Ianto couldn’t deny that he was physically attracted to the man.
***
Ianto truly enjoyed working in the library, even if it was a bit dull. He had all this information just waiting for him to explore, to share with others. Everything had its proper place, and he knew where everything belonged. He was thrilled when a large private collection had been donated to the library and he assigned to sort it out. He catalogued, sorted, and found proper places for all of it. He was in his element. Here he made chaos into order and it was glorious.
At least it was most of the time it was glorious. As he was standing on the ladder adjusting the fairy lights along with the various nondenominational holiday decorations that had been torn down and moved about, he wasn’t quite able to see the appeal. At least the books hadn’t been defaced. That was something. Still, despite the library’s attempt to be festive, Ianto wasn’t quite feeling the holiday spirit.
Ianto started when he heard a wolf whistle from below. “If I had known the library came with this view, I’d be here every day,” the flirtatious tones of one Captain Jack Harkness broke through the formerly peaceful silence. Ianto started down the ladder, but the Captain laughed, “Really, don’t rush on my account.”
Reaching the bottom of the ladder, Ianto turned and poked Jack in the chest, “You are incorrigible.”
Jack grabbed his hand and pulled, bringing Ianto off balance and well into Jack’s personal space. He placed a hand on the Captain’s chest to steady himself, but was prevented from backing away by an insistent hand on his hip and Jack’s refusal to release his hand. “Yup. And you like me that way. It’s part of my charm.”
“Too bad you’re not half as charming as you think you are,” Ianto attempted to smirk, but landed somewhere in the vicinity of wan smile. It was weird, very weird. This was the most physical contact they’d had, the first time flirting had lead to something more, the closest they’d been to each other, but it felt so natural.
Jack leaned in closer, close enough that Ianto could feel the heat from his skin, his breath on his face. “Am too.” And that was it, the build up to their first kiss. Their lips met. It was simple, it was chaste, and it was brilliant. There was no clacking of teeth, or nose bumping, or fumbling hands. They simply slotted together, like they fit, as if they’d always belonged just like that.
The kiss broke and Ianto felt Jack begin to pull away. No, not yet. Ianto slid a hand to rest on the back of Jack’s neck, pulling him back in for another, deeper kiss. There was… there was something, something that he was so close to remembering, he could feel it. Jack buried a hand in his hair, blunt fingernails scraping against the base of his skull just the way he liked. Ianto gasped into the kiss and suddenly he knew. He knew that if he nipped on Jack’s lower lip just so, the other man would make a delicious humming sound. He knew that if he kissed the soft spot behind Jack’s ear, the other man would moan and tilt his head to the side to give him more access. He knew that if he rubbed gentle circles on the small of Jack’s back, the other man would arch into him. He knew the way Jack moaned when he teased his nipples, the way he’d curse and arch when Ianto entered him, how beautiful he was when he came. He knew the way his muscles rippled below, above, around him.
Ianto didn’t understand it. They had met five weeks ago in the coffee shop, he remembered that. But he also remembered glimpses of places he’d never been, a history he didn’t have, and none of it fit. The kiss broke again, and the two men stood with their foreheads pressed together catching their breath. He knew every inch of this gorgeous man, but not the most important thing, “Who are you?” he breathed.
Jack pulled back and grinned. “I am Captain Jack Harkness. You are Ianto Jones -my beautiful, brilliant, Jones, Ianto Jones. And I am going to get you back. I swear it.” He reached up and straightened Ianto’s skewed glasses, hands lingering on the Welshman’s face.
Now that just created more questions than answers. “Jack… what…?”
Jack kissed him again to silence his protests, pulling back with another grin and hands fumbling in the pockets of his coat before shoving a small box into Ianto’s hands. “I swear. Happy Christmas Ianto.” One final kiss and Jack bolted leaving a bewildered Ianto behind with no answers.
Ianto stared after the Captain, feeling completely confused and a bit distraught. He was upset that Jack had just left him like that. He looked down at the small package clutched against his stomach. It was a small brown box, no distinguishing markings, no card. Ianto pulled open the top and nestled inside was a beautiful antique stopwatch. He slid it into his hand, and it too felt natural there, like it belonged to him, like it always had.
Ianto was still bewildered - the watch didn’t trigger anything else. Maybe it was just a message -the Captain didn’t do subtle, after all. It was a stopwatch; maybe all he needed was more time.