You must be THIS tall to work for Torchwood
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Summary:You must be THIS tall to work for Torchwood
G
1413
au_bingo - Other: Kid-fic
Jack, Ianto, OC
AU - Children of Earth never happened
For some Torchwood agents, training starts early
Torchwood's gravest security breach in its entire one-hundred-and-forty year history was perpetrated by a human female, height one-hundred-twenty centimeters, weight three-and-a-half stone, not counting her pink converse trainers.
Perhaps the blame lay with Jack. When Gwen said that Torchwood - as a forward-thinking workplace - needed to arrange for convenient childcare if they wanted her to run around chasing aliens at a moments notice, she meant that perhaps they could keep a nanny on retainer so she could drop off her daughter on the way to the Hub.
Jack interpreted her request somewhat differently, which explains why there was now a wooden crate "desk" and a plastic chair on the floor of the Tourist Office, serving as the workstation of Miss Maddie Williams, age seven, Ianto-in-Training.
While Mister Ianto Jones processed requisition forms for reinforced steel girders, Miss Williams did her Sums. At least, that is what she said she was doing. She said a great many other things, to which Mister Jones responded with polite hums and distracted nods.
“So then Beth kept talking to me and she said she didn’t like the lunch her Mum gave her and did I want it, and I said what did your Mum give you, and she said kumquat jam on bread and I said, you’re mad if you don’t like kumquat jam!”
“Mmhm.”
“And she said, I like kumquat jam, I just don’t like it on bread for lunch ‘cause it gets all soggy. And I was about to say I’ll take it if you don’t want it…”
“Mmhm.”
“And then Miss Tallis said I told you not to talk in class, so now you have to stand by the wall during break. And so we didn’t get to play Torchwood.”
“Mmhm - what?”
“I said Beth didn’t like the lunch…”
“What’s this about ‘playing Torchwood’?”
“We play Torchwood at break. Me and Beth and Michael and Bran and Allie. We chase Weevils and open the Rift, and then whoever plays Captain Jack has to die and come back alive.”
Ianto slowly lifted his finger to his earpiece. “Jack, have you got a minute? We have a bit of a situation.”
- - - - - - - - -
If Jack was uncomfortable hunkered down on the “visitor’s crate” across from Maddie, he didn’t show it. Ianto served them milk in the nice tea cups and went back to the requisition forms, with one ear carefully tuned to the little drama unfolding next to the brochure rack.
Jack began with some polite observations about breakfast cereal. Maddie graciously let him finish his thoughts before expounding on how they should make the cocoa stick to the puffs better. The captain nodded sagely as he led the conversation to the topic of Terrible Meals That Mums Inflict Upon Their Innocent Offspring, grimacing at the vivid description of Gwen’s French toast. They went on to discuss how Beth held sole responsibility for depriving Maddie of her recess (though Jack’s comment that “Sometimes it’s the people you should be able to trust implicitly who betray you.” was going a bit too far, Ianto thought).
When the conversation finally drifted, delicately, back to The Torchwood Game, Maddie was in top form. She told Jack how many Weevils you have to catch before you can enter the Hub (the climbing frame to unsuspecting observers), that the designated “Myfanwy” has to eat all the Weevils while hanging from the bars (“Weevils can’t touch the bars, Myfanwy can’t touch the ground”), and finally that everyone wants to be Captain Jack so they can open the rift at the end and die twitching and then come back to life with a loud shout and startle everyone.
Jack looked a bit overwhelmed, as if becoming a playground legend had put a new spin on his existential crisis. But he recovered impressively, and he and Maddie had a nice conversation about State Secrets and the delights of ingenious code names. At the end, Maddie agreed to rename her game “Snorklebart” (which Jack assured her was a very bad word in Gelthian). Weevils were now “Wibbles” and Captain Jack was henceforth known as “Mighty Guy”. Ianto silently vowed to introduce Jack to more contemporary comic books.
When Maddie and Jack finally left to get ice creams, Ianto made himself a nice cup of scotch spiked with coffee.
- - - - - - - - -
“Mister Jones…”
“Yes, Miss Williams?”
“I’ve done my sums.”
“How many sums have you done?”
“Two.”
“How many did you get for homework?”
“Ten.”
“Then you still have eight more to do. You would know that if you knew how to do sums. It seems you need more practice.”
“When can I have my own gun?”
“When your hand-eye coordination is better. Now, do your sums.”
“I want a big gun like Captain Jack.”
Ianto fought the urge to giggle madly. It was difficult.
“If you finish your sums and we have time, I’ll teach you to how to shoot a water-pistol properly.”
“I don’t want a water-pistol, I want a gun. Please,” Maddie added quickly.
“Don’t be silly. Everyone in Torchwood started their training with water-pistols. We give you far too much leeway as it is, but we can’t take shortcuts with your training. It wouldn’t be right.”
It was a couple of minutes before Ianto realized there should have been a “Guns are dangerous weapons and not toys” in there somewhere, but it was much much too late to have that talk with Maddie.
- - - - - - - - -
There are many lines of defence between Torchwood 3 and the outside world. The Tourist Office acts as a smokescreen, shielding secrets behind its beaded curtain and Ianto’s obfuscating smile. If you get past the warren of dim hallways, the narrow lift, and the massive cog door, there is the floor of the Hub to cross and stairs to climb until you reach the office of Jack Harkness. When the blinds are drawn as forbiddingly as they were on this day, even those closest to the Captain keep a cautious distance.
Unfortunately the most solid of barriers are no match for a spoilt only-child with jammy fingers and an inflated sense of entitlement. Jack was reminded of this when Maddie peeked around the corner of his desk. He quickly tucked the crime scene photographs he was examining back into their folder and forced himself to smile.
“Maddie! What’s up?”
Before answering, she climbed up his leg and sat on his desk facing him.
“Nothing.”
“Have you had lunch?”
“Had dinner, even. Mister Jones made beans on toast.”
“That late already? Huh. Your Mum’s not back yet; I’ll tell Ianto to call your Dad to pick you up.”
“Da’s in Manchester. Business trip. Mum said she’d be back at six to take me home.”
“I don’t think Gwen’s going to be back for another couple of hours. Your bedtime is now. What are we ever going to do?” Jack steepled his fingers and gravely tapped his chin.
“I can stay up. I’m not tired!”
“You’ll be tired at school tomorrow. Then you’ll be cranky and won’t learn anything, and Miss Tallis will get upset and call me to complain!”
“She shan’t! She thinks I made you up!”
Jack laughed, “Well, real or imaginary, I’ll bet she thinks I have a bad influence on you. Have you brushed your teeth?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then let’s tuck you in on that couch over there….”
- - - - - - - - -
His job was to ready Torchwood, and by extension Planet Earth, for what was to happen in the twenty-first century. He had been busy preparing everyone, training his team to face horrors they couldn’t imagine. What he hadn’t expected was a Future that smelled like Johnson-and-Johnson’s shampoo and ate kumquat jam straight from the jar. If Maddie was anything like a Torchwood mascot, she was what reminded him of the larger picture - making Earth a safety zone for humankind in an increasingly hostile universe.
Gwen already had misgivings about the time her daughter spent in this madhouse, and Rhys would go through the roof when they eventually gave her weapons training. But their daughter was living in a different world from the one her parents had grown up in, one that would become unrecognizable within a few short decades. Jack would ensure that Maddie knew her allies from her enemies, and how to protect herself from both. Someday soon everything would change, but Maddie would be ready.
Rating:
Word count:
Prompt:
Characters:
Setting:
Summary:You must be THIS tall to work for Torchwood
G
1413
au_bingo - Other: Kid-fic
Jack, Ianto, OC
AU - Children of Earth never happened
For some Torchwood agents, training starts early
Torchwood's gravest security breach in its entire one-hundred-and-forty year history was perpetrated by a human female, height one-hundred-twenty centimeters, weight three-and-a-half stone, not counting her pink converse trainers.
Perhaps the blame lay with Jack. When Gwen said that Torchwood - as a forward-thinking workplace - needed to arrange for convenient childcare if they wanted her to run around chasing aliens at a moments notice, she meant that perhaps they could keep a nanny on retainer so she could drop off her daughter on the way to the Hub.
Jack interpreted her request somewhat differently, which explains why there was now a wooden crate "desk" and a plastic chair on the floor of the Tourist Office, serving as the workstation of Miss Maddie Williams, age seven, Ianto-in-Training.
While Mister Ianto Jones processed requisition forms for reinforced steel girders, Miss Williams did her Sums. At least, that is what she said she was doing. She said a great many other things, to which Mister Jones responded with polite hums and distracted nods.
“So then Beth kept talking to me and she said she didn’t like the lunch her Mum gave her and did I want it, and I said what did your Mum give you, and she said kumquat jam on bread and I said, you’re mad if you don’t like kumquat jam!”
“Mmhm.”
“And she said, I like kumquat jam, I just don’t like it on bread for lunch ‘cause it gets all soggy. And I was about to say I’ll take it if you don’t want it…”
“Mmhm.”
“And then Miss Tallis said I told you not to talk in class, so now you have to stand by the wall during break. And so we didn’t get to play Torchwood.”
“Mmhm - what?”
“I said Beth didn’t like the lunch…”
“What’s this about ‘playing Torchwood’?”
“We play Torchwood at break. Me and Beth and Michael and Bran and Allie. We chase Weevils and open the Rift, and then whoever plays Captain Jack has to die and come back alive.”
Ianto slowly lifted his finger to his earpiece. “Jack, have you got a minute? We have a bit of a situation.”
- - - - - - - - -
If Jack was uncomfortable hunkered down on the “visitor’s crate” across from Maddie, he didn’t show it. Ianto served them milk in the nice tea cups and went back to the requisition forms, with one ear carefully tuned to the little drama unfolding next to the brochure rack.
Jack began with some polite observations about breakfast cereal. Maddie graciously let him finish his thoughts before expounding on how they should make the cocoa stick to the puffs better. The captain nodded sagely as he led the conversation to the topic of Terrible Meals That Mums Inflict Upon Their Innocent Offspring, grimacing at the vivid description of Gwen’s French toast. They went on to discuss how Beth held sole responsibility for depriving Maddie of her recess (though Jack’s comment that “Sometimes it’s the people you should be able to trust implicitly who betray you.” was going a bit too far, Ianto thought).
When the conversation finally drifted, delicately, back to The Torchwood Game, Maddie was in top form. She told Jack how many Weevils you have to catch before you can enter the Hub (the climbing frame to unsuspecting observers), that the designated “Myfanwy” has to eat all the Weevils while hanging from the bars (“Weevils can’t touch the bars, Myfanwy can’t touch the ground”), and finally that everyone wants to be Captain Jack so they can open the rift at the end and die twitching and then come back to life with a loud shout and startle everyone.
Jack looked a bit overwhelmed, as if becoming a playground legend had put a new spin on his existential crisis. But he recovered impressively, and he and Maddie had a nice conversation about State Secrets and the delights of ingenious code names. At the end, Maddie agreed to rename her game “Snorklebart” (which Jack assured her was a very bad word in Gelthian). Weevils were now “Wibbles” and Captain Jack was henceforth known as “Mighty Guy”. Ianto silently vowed to introduce Jack to more contemporary comic books.
When Maddie and Jack finally left to get ice creams, Ianto made himself a nice cup of scotch spiked with coffee.
- - - - - - - - -
“Mister Jones…”
“Yes, Miss Williams?”
“I’ve done my sums.”
“How many sums have you done?”
“Two.”
“How many did you get for homework?”
“Ten.”
“Then you still have eight more to do. You would know that if you knew how to do sums. It seems you need more practice.”
“When can I have my own gun?”
“When your hand-eye coordination is better. Now, do your sums.”
“I want a big gun like Captain Jack.”
Ianto fought the urge to giggle madly. It was difficult.
“If you finish your sums and we have time, I’ll teach you to how to shoot a water-pistol properly.”
“I don’t want a water-pistol, I want a gun. Please,” Maddie added quickly.
“Don’t be silly. Everyone in Torchwood started their training with water-pistols. We give you far too much leeway as it is, but we can’t take shortcuts with your training. It wouldn’t be right.”
It was a couple of minutes before Ianto realized there should have been a “Guns are dangerous weapons and not toys” in there somewhere, but it was much much too late to have that talk with Maddie.
- - - - - - - - -
There are many lines of defence between Torchwood 3 and the outside world. The Tourist Office acts as a smokescreen, shielding secrets behind its beaded curtain and Ianto’s obfuscating smile. If you get past the warren of dim hallways, the narrow lift, and the massive cog door, there is the floor of the Hub to cross and stairs to climb until you reach the office of Jack Harkness. When the blinds are drawn as forbiddingly as they were on this day, even those closest to the Captain keep a cautious distance.
Unfortunately the most solid of barriers are no match for a spoilt only-child with jammy fingers and an inflated sense of entitlement. Jack was reminded of this when Maddie peeked around the corner of his desk. He quickly tucked the crime scene photographs he was examining back into their folder and forced himself to smile.
“Maddie! What’s up?”
Before answering, she climbed up his leg and sat on his desk facing him.
“Nothing.”
“Have you had lunch?”
“Had dinner, even. Mister Jones made beans on toast.”
“That late already? Huh. Your Mum’s not back yet; I’ll tell Ianto to call your Dad to pick you up.”
“Da’s in Manchester. Business trip. Mum said she’d be back at six to take me home.”
“I don’t think Gwen’s going to be back for another couple of hours. Your bedtime is now. What are we ever going to do?” Jack steepled his fingers and gravely tapped his chin.
“I can stay up. I’m not tired!”
“You’ll be tired at school tomorrow. Then you’ll be cranky and won’t learn anything, and Miss Tallis will get upset and call me to complain!”
“She shan’t! She thinks I made you up!”
Jack laughed, “Well, real or imaginary, I’ll bet she thinks I have a bad influence on you. Have you brushed your teeth?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then let’s tuck you in on that couch over there….”
- - - - - - - - -
His job was to ready Torchwood, and by extension Planet Earth, for what was to happen in the twenty-first century. He had been busy preparing everyone, training his team to face horrors they couldn’t imagine. What he hadn’t expected was a Future that smelled like Johnson-and-Johnson’s shampoo and ate kumquat jam straight from the jar. If Maddie was anything like a Torchwood mascot, she was what reminded him of the larger picture - making Earth a safety zone for humankind in an increasingly hostile universe.
Gwen already had misgivings about the time her daughter spent in this madhouse, and Rhys would go through the roof when they eventually gave her weapons training. But their daughter was living in a different world from the one her parents had grown up in, one that would become unrecognizable within a few short decades. Jack would ensure that Maddie knew her allies from her enemies, and how to protect herself from both. Someday soon everything would change, but Maddie would be ready.