DOCTOR WHO/TORCHWOOD: The Interview
Title: The Interview
Characters/Pairing: Jack and Yvonne, mention of pre-'99 Torchwood Three
Word Count: 537
Rating: G
Summary: Visits to Torchwood One are... interesting, if not productive.
Notes: Written for writerinadrawer round 2.04. Shut up, I know Ianto could not possibly have been in Torchwood at the time. There are other cute Welsh kids in suits! ...Really. (Damn you, Fragments, for imposing an actual timeline...)
Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood or any of its characters. So not the BBC. Though that would be cool.
Alex always sends Jack when necessity requires they speak to Torchwood One in person. It's partially because he has the most experience dealing with them and is not cowed the way some of the younger kids would be. If Jack didn't go, Phoebe and Noah would end up flipping a coin for which of them had to.
But mostly, it's because Jack enjoys antagonizing Torchwood One.
He's lounging in a chair rocked back on two legs, feet propped on Yvonne Hartman's desk, right next to the thousand-plus page report on some new "weapon" Torchwood's found; probably an alien hairdryer, or so Jack likes to think.
Yvonne eyes him with the fixed smile that so perfectly does not hide things like annoyance, resignation, the vague wish that he'd get his feet off her desk, and the ever-present fascination that accompanies his every visit to Torchwood One. At least he got them to stop poking him with needles a good fifty years ago.
Well. Mostly.
"I'd hoped Alex might come this time," she says at last, fingers laced in front of her.
Jack shrugs in an apology that's really not at all. "You know how the Rift is. It's so hard to get away..." Yvonne raises an eyebrow, and Jack fights back a smirk. "He'll get a full report of the conversation."
"Wonderful."
"And the reason for this conversation is...?"
"Do you happen to know what I sent Alex for Christmas this year?" Jack bites back a comment about how if this qualifies as urgent Torchwood business, Torchwood One just isn't trying hard enough.
"Dictionary, right? With a bookmark in it? Cute."
"Did he happen to mention the word I highlighted?"
"I want to say pedantic, but..."
"Secret."
"Secret, that's it!"
"As in secret organization. I wasn't certain Torchwood Three understood the concept."
"Would you like us to post signs with the definition?"
"Last month Torchwood Three requisitioned an SUV."
"Right, the old one was-"
Yvonne holds up a hand. "I don't care what happened to the old one. I'm concerned about this one."
Jack quirks an eyebrow. "For what reason?"
"It has the word 'Torchwood' on the side of it."
"It's the Torchwood SUV."
"Torchwood, once again, is a secret organization. We can't very well go around advertising our presence - even in Cardiff, much as it may not seem to matter."
Jack manages not to bristle, and instead glances around her office at the word "Torchwood" emblazoned on the wall behind her. The very impressive-looking capital T's stamped on the glass walls, the front pages of several reports on her desk, and apparently every other available surface. Back to Yvonne.
"You're going to have to explain-"
He's interrupted by a tap at the door. A kid in a suit sticks his head in. "Ms. Hartman, Lisa asked that you-" He stops, seeing Jack, and falters. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt."
Welsh. And cute. Jack grins. "Yvonne will be along as soon as she's finished explaining the definitions of simple words."
He turns back toward her and says with absolutely no sincerity, "Torchwood Three will be lectured on their appalling lack of secrecy. Next order of business?"
Characters/Pairing: Jack and Yvonne, mention of pre-'99 Torchwood Three
Word Count: 537
Rating: G
Summary: Visits to Torchwood One are... interesting, if not productive.
Notes: Written for writerinadrawer round 2.04. Shut up, I know Ianto could not possibly have been in Torchwood at the time. There are other cute Welsh kids in suits! ...Really. (Damn you, Fragments, for imposing an actual timeline...)
Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood or any of its characters. So not the BBC. Though that would be cool.
Alex always sends Jack when necessity requires they speak to Torchwood One in person. It's partially because he has the most experience dealing with them and is not cowed the way some of the younger kids would be. If Jack didn't go, Phoebe and Noah would end up flipping a coin for which of them had to.
But mostly, it's because Jack enjoys antagonizing Torchwood One.
He's lounging in a chair rocked back on two legs, feet propped on Yvonne Hartman's desk, right next to the thousand-plus page report on some new "weapon" Torchwood's found; probably an alien hairdryer, or so Jack likes to think.
Yvonne eyes him with the fixed smile that so perfectly does not hide things like annoyance, resignation, the vague wish that he'd get his feet off her desk, and the ever-present fascination that accompanies his every visit to Torchwood One. At least he got them to stop poking him with needles a good fifty years ago.
Well. Mostly.
"I'd hoped Alex might come this time," she says at last, fingers laced in front of her.
Jack shrugs in an apology that's really not at all. "You know how the Rift is. It's so hard to get away..." Yvonne raises an eyebrow, and Jack fights back a smirk. "He'll get a full report of the conversation."
"Wonderful."
"And the reason for this conversation is...?"
"Do you happen to know what I sent Alex for Christmas this year?" Jack bites back a comment about how if this qualifies as urgent Torchwood business, Torchwood One just isn't trying hard enough.
"Dictionary, right? With a bookmark in it? Cute."
"Did he happen to mention the word I highlighted?"
"I want to say pedantic, but..."
"Secret."
"Secret, that's it!"
"As in secret organization. I wasn't certain Torchwood Three understood the concept."
"Would you like us to post signs with the definition?"
"Last month Torchwood Three requisitioned an SUV."
"Right, the old one was-"
Yvonne holds up a hand. "I don't care what happened to the old one. I'm concerned about this one."
Jack quirks an eyebrow. "For what reason?"
"It has the word 'Torchwood' on the side of it."
"It's the Torchwood SUV."
"Torchwood, once again, is a secret organization. We can't very well go around advertising our presence - even in Cardiff, much as it may not seem to matter."
Jack manages not to bristle, and instead glances around her office at the word "Torchwood" emblazoned on the wall behind her. The very impressive-looking capital T's stamped on the glass walls, the front pages of several reports on her desk, and apparently every other available surface. Back to Yvonne.
"You're going to have to explain-"
He's interrupted by a tap at the door. A kid in a suit sticks his head in. "Ms. Hartman, Lisa asked that you-" He stops, seeing Jack, and falters. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt."
Welsh. And cute. Jack grins. "Yvonne will be along as soon as she's finished explaining the definitions of simple words."
He turns back toward her and says with absolutely no sincerity, "Torchwood Three will be lectured on their appalling lack of secrecy. Next order of business?"