Information
Title: Information
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters/Pairing: Jack, Ianto, Gwen, implied Jack/Ianto
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Why hasn't anyone given them all to me yet? I'd take good care of them, honest.
Spoilers: None
Summary: Sequel to Stolen and Lost. Finally, Jack, Ianto and Gwen find out a little about where they are.
Author's Note: Written for day fourteen of redismycolour. This one got away from me a little... 800 words.
Chapter thirteen of Guilt will be posted this evening (GMT).
Information
“Am I hallucinating, or is that an actual light?” Gwen had asked just twenty minutes earlier. Looking over, Jack and Ianto had momentarily extinguished Ianto’s flashlight and confirmed it; she was right, it was a light. Just a speck, at this distance, but a light nonetheless.
Even knowing that there was a more than even chance that whatever was with the light was hostile, they couldn’t help but make the decision to head towards it.
As they grew closer, the source of the light became apparent. It was, for all intents and purposes, a hut.
Closer still, and they drew their guns with frozen fingers - not entirely sure they had enough movement in them to shoot, but wanting to be prepared. Just in case.
Even closer. Close enough now to huddle against the walls of the hut - wooden, if you can believe it - and catch their breath. Close enough for Jack to inch over and peek in through the window from which the light was emitting.
Other than a rough table, the hut appeared to be empty.
Leaving Gwen and Ianto close together against the wall, Jack crept around to the front of the small building, pointing his flashlight at the door and spotting a symbol painted there on the wood.
A familiar symbol, even if it had been a long time since he’d last seen it; even if he had to raid the far reaches of his memory to recall what it meant.
Creeping back around the edge of the hut, he rejoined Gwen and Ianto. “Come on,” he told them, his voice having to fight against the rising wind. “I think it’s safe.”
Too tired and cold to question his surety, they followed him back around to the door, which was, luckily, unlocked.
“What was that sign on the door?” Ianto stuttered, his teeth still chattering, as they shut it behind them.
Jack rubbed his hands together, trying to defrost them now they were out of the cold outside - although the interior of the hut wasn’t warm by any means, it was a definite improvement. “You’ll never believe this, but when I was growing up, that was the sign for tourist information.”
“So we’re in a tourist information office?” Gwen asked incredulously.
“And apparently in the future,” Ianto added.
“Based on the evidence, correct on both counts,” Jack nodded. “Although that symbol was being used in most areas with a human population by the early 27th century, so it doesn’t really help us figure out our exact location. If only…”
He paused, looking around the room. “That’s it!” He grinned excitedly at his team. “By the time that symbol is in use, tourist information offices are almost completely unmanned. They’re all automatic. We just need to find… aha!”
Leaping forward, he pressed a button on the wall, and a holographic image of a young woman appeared.
“Welcome to Tourist Information,” she said. “The date is the 29th of Decimar, and the weather forecast for the next several weeks is cold with scattered snow. For information about specific attractions in this locale, please select from the menu.”
Her holographic hand indicated a projected screen with several options.
“She’s speaking English,” Ianto pointed out in disbelief. “And it doesn’t sound any different to 21st century English. I refuse to believe we somehow landed someplace where they still speak that.”
Jack smiled at him, impressed, as he often was, at the perceptiveness of his young partner. “You’re right, it’s unlikely, although even as far as about the 45th century, not impossible. Most of these things are equipped with a low level psychic reader, though. They speak to you in whatever language most of your party will understand.”
“And you don’t speak Welsh,” Ianto smiled back, marvelling a little at the technology.
“Right.”
They spent a few minutes interrogating the information hologram, but the only useful information they could garner was that the closest town was 8 miles away - although thankfully in the same direction they’d come from. It would have been agonising to have unwittingly passed right by it.
“We head there in the morning, then,” Jack said decisively, although part of him rebelled at the thought of heading back out into the cold. “For now, we need to get some sleep while we can.”
Despite an equal lack of enthusiasm for the idea of heading back out, even after a few hours of rest, Ianto and Gwen nodded, piling their coats on the floor to create a space to sleep. Jack similarly removed his greatcoat. It wasn’t much of a blanket, but it would have to do.
Later that night, curled familiarly around Ianto, with Gwen an unusual addition to the cuddle, Jack watched them sleep, and hoped he could get them all back where they belonged.
Cardiff. 2008. Home.
TBC if prompts allow
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters/Pairing: Jack, Ianto, Gwen, implied Jack/Ianto
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Why hasn't anyone given them all to me yet? I'd take good care of them, honest.
Spoilers: None
Summary: Sequel to Stolen and Lost. Finally, Jack, Ianto and Gwen find out a little about where they are.
Author's Note: Written for day fourteen of redismycolour. This one got away from me a little... 800 words.
Chapter thirteen of Guilt will be posted this evening (GMT).
Information
“Am I hallucinating, or is that an actual light?” Gwen had asked just twenty minutes earlier. Looking over, Jack and Ianto had momentarily extinguished Ianto’s flashlight and confirmed it; she was right, it was a light. Just a speck, at this distance, but a light nonetheless.
Even knowing that there was a more than even chance that whatever was with the light was hostile, they couldn’t help but make the decision to head towards it.
As they grew closer, the source of the light became apparent. It was, for all intents and purposes, a hut.
Closer still, and they drew their guns with frozen fingers - not entirely sure they had enough movement in them to shoot, but wanting to be prepared. Just in case.
Even closer. Close enough now to huddle against the walls of the hut - wooden, if you can believe it - and catch their breath. Close enough for Jack to inch over and peek in through the window from which the light was emitting.
Other than a rough table, the hut appeared to be empty.
Leaving Gwen and Ianto close together against the wall, Jack crept around to the front of the small building, pointing his flashlight at the door and spotting a symbol painted there on the wood.
A familiar symbol, even if it had been a long time since he’d last seen it; even if he had to raid the far reaches of his memory to recall what it meant.
Creeping back around the edge of the hut, he rejoined Gwen and Ianto. “Come on,” he told them, his voice having to fight against the rising wind. “I think it’s safe.”
Too tired and cold to question his surety, they followed him back around to the door, which was, luckily, unlocked.
“What was that sign on the door?” Ianto stuttered, his teeth still chattering, as they shut it behind them.
Jack rubbed his hands together, trying to defrost them now they were out of the cold outside - although the interior of the hut wasn’t warm by any means, it was a definite improvement. “You’ll never believe this, but when I was growing up, that was the sign for tourist information.”
“So we’re in a tourist information office?” Gwen asked incredulously.
“And apparently in the future,” Ianto added.
“Based on the evidence, correct on both counts,” Jack nodded. “Although that symbol was being used in most areas with a human population by the early 27th century, so it doesn’t really help us figure out our exact location. If only…”
He paused, looking around the room. “That’s it!” He grinned excitedly at his team. “By the time that symbol is in use, tourist information offices are almost completely unmanned. They’re all automatic. We just need to find… aha!”
Leaping forward, he pressed a button on the wall, and a holographic image of a young woman appeared.
“Welcome to Tourist Information,” she said. “The date is the 29th of Decimar, and the weather forecast for the next several weeks is cold with scattered snow. For information about specific attractions in this locale, please select from the menu.”
Her holographic hand indicated a projected screen with several options.
“She’s speaking English,” Ianto pointed out in disbelief. “And it doesn’t sound any different to 21st century English. I refuse to believe we somehow landed someplace where they still speak that.”
Jack smiled at him, impressed, as he often was, at the perceptiveness of his young partner. “You’re right, it’s unlikely, although even as far as about the 45th century, not impossible. Most of these things are equipped with a low level psychic reader, though. They speak to you in whatever language most of your party will understand.”
“And you don’t speak Welsh,” Ianto smiled back, marvelling a little at the technology.
“Right.”
They spent a few minutes interrogating the information hologram, but the only useful information they could garner was that the closest town was 8 miles away - although thankfully in the same direction they’d come from. It would have been agonising to have unwittingly passed right by it.
“We head there in the morning, then,” Jack said decisively, although part of him rebelled at the thought of heading back out into the cold. “For now, we need to get some sleep while we can.”
Despite an equal lack of enthusiasm for the idea of heading back out, even after a few hours of rest, Ianto and Gwen nodded, piling their coats on the floor to create a space to sleep. Jack similarly removed his greatcoat. It wasn’t much of a blanket, but it would have to do.
Later that night, curled familiarly around Ianto, with Gwen an unusual addition to the cuddle, Jack watched them sleep, and hoped he could get them all back where they belonged.
Cardiff. 2008. Home.
TBC if prompts allow