Torchwood Fic: Mythology (7/10)
Title: Mythology (7/10)
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Rating: R/NC17
Warning: None
Spoilers: Set after 2.13. Spoilers for both series 1 and 2, and a bit of DW: Last of the Time Lords and The Shakespeare Code
Summary: With mythical beasts turning up all over Scotland, Torchwood Two thought they were in charge; however, so did Torchwood Four. Unfortunately for both parties their main suspect was refusing to talk to anyone other than Torchwood Three’s Ianto Jones.
Beta: rakina
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em - unfortunately. And I ain’t Shakespeare!
A/N: Set after my stories Lynchpin and Constant. Okay folks... time to investigate the other side of Ianto’s family tree! This one is lighter in tone to Constant - time to have a bit of fun!
Lynchpin here: http://hel-bee.livejournal.com/21730.html
Constant here: http://hel-bee.livejournal.com/23390.html
Mythology chapter 1 here: http://hel-bee.livejournal.com/25464.html
Mythology chapter 2 here: http://hel-bee.livejournal.com/25667.html
Mythology chapter 3 here: http://hel-bee.livejournal.com/25892.html
Mythology chapter 4 here: http://hel-bee.livejournal.com/26608.html
Mythology chapter 5 here: http://hel-bee.livejournal.com/26851.html
Mythology chapter 6 here: http://hel-bee.livejournal.com/27087.html
Chapter Seven
Snippet:
“What’s got into you?” Ianto asked, feeling a mix of concern about Jack’s behaviour and the prickling of embarrassment at being so effectively claimed by Jack in front of the Doctor.
It suddenly dawned on Ianto why one of the Doctor’s many pseudonyms was The Oncoming Storm. He had often thought of Jack as an unruly tempest, but the Doctor in full stride made Jack look like a gentle breeze.
“Come on, Ianto,” the Doctor called.
“Do you even know where you’re going?” Ianto asked, jogging to keep up.
The Doctor stopped, staring at his surroundings and looking a little lost. “Actually, no.”
“I thought as much. The entrance to the Armadillo is this way,” said Ianto, pointing. “And I happen to know for a fact that’s where they’re keeping the winged horse.”
“One piece of advice, Mr Jones: don’t be too reliant on facts… they’re not always true.”
“And here’s me thinking that by referring to the piece of knowledge I’ve imparted to you as a fact that it must mean it is of reasonable authenticity. Otherwise I may have used other words, such as supposedly or allegedly.”
The Doctor grinned through Ianto’s diatribe. “Oh, you are so Koschei’s grandson.”
Ianto favoured the Doctor with a look so cold that usually it even stopped Jack misbehaving, but it didn’t seem to have any effect on the ebullient Time Lord. With an incoherent mutter Ianto strode away.
“It wasn’t an insult,” the Doctor called after him, catching up almost immediately.
“You are almost as insufferable as Jack.”
The Doctor jostled Ianto with a shoulder. “See - ‘almost’, not ‘more than’. I’m taking that as a compliment.”
Waiting for them as they approached the disguised entrance of the Armadillo was Jack, in all his broody, posturing glory. Ianto was more than a little disturbed at his lover’s expression. If he didn’t know better he would have thought the black looks Jack was shooting were aimed at the Doctor.
“There you are,” Jack snapped. “I was beginning to think you were never coming back.”
Before Ianto could answer he was pulled roughly into Jack’s arms and kissed fiercely, the possessiveness pouring out of the kiss in waves. Somehow, more luck than skill, Ianto manage to escape Jack’s clutches, but Jack refused to completely set him free, one arm remaining around his waist.
“What’s got into you?” Ianto asked, feeling a mix of concern about Jack’s behaviour and the prickling of embarrassment at being so effectively claimed by Jack in front of the Doctor.
“Nothing,” replied Jack brusquely. “Can’t a man kiss his lover?”
“Kiss him, yes. Try to remove his lungs through his mouth, no,” joked the Doctor.
“I wasn’t aware I needed your permission.”
Ianto’s felt Jack’s grip tighten, almost painfully. His brow crinkled at Jack’s reaction to the Doctor’s joke. Jack seldom behaved this hostilely, and from the rare occasions Ianto had witnessed it he knew a direct confrontation was no way to deal with Jack.
“I was just about to show the Doctor the storeroom where Mary’s keeping one of the creatures they’ve captured.”
Jack’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll come with you.”
“There’s really no need...” Ianto began.
“I insist.”
“More the merrier,” proclaimed the Doctor, who was also beginning to look a little concerned about Jack’s behaviour.
Very deliberately, Ianto removed Jack’s arm from around his waist and, although Jack obviously wasn’t happy, he didn’t say anything. He did, however, stay close as they entered the Armadillo, inserting himself between Ianto and the Doctor as they navigated the service tunnels, only stepping to one side once they reached their destination.
Ianto drew back the three sturdy bolts that held the door closed. Jack motioned for both the Doctor and Ianto to stand behind him, and Ianto was in some way relieved at this demonstration of the type of protectiveness he was used to from Jack. In his typical hero fashion Jack pulled open the door, but slightly less heroically he gasped, “Wow!”
Ianto leaned to stare past Jack. The large room was completely empty, but something was clearly grabbing Jack’s attention. He looked over at the Doctor, but he too wore the same look of confusion that Ianto thought graced his own face. “Er... Jack, what are you looking at?”
Jack looked at Ianto incredulously. “The winged horse,” he said as if speaking to a rather stupid child.
“There’s nothing there.”
Jack’s expression changed immediately to that of concerned consternation. “Ianto, it’s right in front of you. It’s so close I’m surprised you can’t feel its breath on your face.”
“Jack,” the Doctor said, “Ianto’s right. There’s nothing in this room.”
“But...” Jack was reaching up with his right hand, seemingly stroking something the other two couldn’t see. “I can feel it.”
Ianto reached out but his hand passed through the air, not connecting with anything. Instead he placed his hand on Jack’s arm. “Let’s get out of here.”
The Doctor nodded. “I think we should have a look at these other creatures that are also supposed to be here.”
Gently, Ianto pulled Jack out of the storeroom and the Doctor closed the door and slid the bolts back across. “The rest of the menagerie is in the cells,” explained Ianto. “But before we go there I want a quick word with Philip, and Jack can introduce you to the others.”
“Why?” asked both Jack and Doctor simultaneously. They were both scowling, their brows wrinkled and their lips pursed.
Ianto was more confused than ever. He’d sensed a slight element of jealousy from Jack about Philip when they’d first met, but the Doctor had no reason - or right - to act in the same way. “I mean,” the Doctor said, “he’s Torchwood Four. What they did to you is tantamount to slavery. Why involve him unnecessarily?”
“I think I’ll be the one to decide what is unnecessary or not,” Ianto replied carefully. “And since Philip, like Jack, could see the winged horse and we couldn’t, maybe we can use Torchwood Four’s unique talents to investigate further.”
“But...” began Jack, intent on arguing.
Unprepared the listen to either of the other two argue over his rationale, Ianto walked briskly away, back towards the main area of the Armadillo. A clatter of footsteps behind him assured him that Jack and the Doctor were following, and although they might not like his association with Torchwood Four there was nothing either of them could say which would change his mind. The Doctor, a man who he’d only met a few hours before, had no right to question him; and Jack, Ianto grumbled to himself internally, really needed to learn to trust his judgement - in regards to Torchwood Four at least.
Ianto found Philip and Dunston engaged in not quite a quarrel but more than a heated debate. Ianto wasn’t exactly sure what they were vociferously discussing but it ended as Mary handed Dunston a file and a dirty look.
“Philip,” Ianto called. “Do you have moment? There something I think we need to discuss.”
“Of course.”
Ianto took hold of Philip’s elbow and led him out of earshot of the others. “I think there’s something strange going on.”
Philip chuckled. “What, more strange than capturing mythological beasties?”
“Actually, yes,” said Ianto slightly peevishly. “I can’t see them. There’s no Loch Ness Monster in the Clyde and Pegasus is not lodging in the lower levels.”
“Ianto, you’ve always had a very odd sense of humour, but this is neither the time nor the place.”
“I’m not joking. You, and everyone else apart from the Doctor, can see something I can’t. So either everyone is imagining things or it’s me and my more interesting genetics.”
Ianto knew Philip had seen into his mind when they had been lovers, inadvertently discovering Ianto’s heritage during a rather intimate moment. It had been one hell of a mood killer and although they had discussed it briefly, they had never mentioned it since. Philip’s silence had always been appreciated, and a necessity in order to keep Torchwood Four’s lynchpin safe.
“I see,” said Philip carefully. “We could do a mutual mind scan. We know each other well enough to recognise if something is amiss.”
Kelis looked on with mild interest when Ianto arrived, followed closely by Harkness and the Time Lord. The Doctor was instantly greeted by Dunston, and he listened politely enough about Torchwood Two, while all the time only Ianto truly held his attention. Unlike the Doctor, Harkness was nowhere near as subtle, hanging back to watch Ianto and Henshaw talk. He wasn’t close enough to hear, but if looks could kill then Henshaw would have been dead the minute Ianto had opened his mouth to talk to him. Kelis smiled and walked over to stand next to Jack.
“See, I told you,” Kelis whispered into Jack’s ear. “You can almost taste the chemistry between them. Even the Doctor can see it.” She nodded in the direction of the Time Lord, who, although he was pretending to listen to Dunston, was just as engrossed as Jack in watching Ianto and Philip walk to a quieter area of the room.
She smirked at Jack’s dark expression and said: “The blood of youth burns not with such excess as gravity’s revolt to wantonness.”*
Jack’s lip curled involuntarily into a sneer as he watched his Ianto talking to Henshaw. How could have been so blind not to have noticed Torchwood Four’s leader’s desire for Ianto? He should have realised that Ianto’s involvement in this case had less to do with Kelis and more to do with Henshaw’s need to get closer to Ianto.
Before Jack could stop himself he was striding towards them, reaching out and grabbing Henshaw’s shoulder so they stood face to face. And then he pulled back his fist and hit Henshaw as hard as he could in the jaw. “I know what you’re up to,” snarled Jack. “You had your chance, he’s mine now.”
“Jack!” screamed Ianto. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Ianto pushed Jack away, and then sank to his knees to check Philip was okay.
Jack staggered slightly and shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. “I... Ianto...” he said sounding confused. He lost his balance and stumbled to the floor.
Philip appeared none the worse for wear, apart from the beginning of a bruise across his jaw. Dunston now also crouched down to check if he was all right, and the Doctor was peering over the scene, content to watch and not get involved for once.
Jack clutched at his head, and Ianto wrenched his attention away from Philip, his annoyance evaporated at seeing Jack’s condition. Jack’s eyes were unfocused, he was confused and disorientated. “What happened?” Jack asked, his words slightly slurred. “Why am I on the floor?”
Ianto grabbed his chin and looked into Jack’s eyes. “You punched Philip.”
Jack looked as if he couldn’t grasp what Ianto was saying. “But why would I do that?”
“You tell me?”
“I...”
Ianto gently stroked Jack’s head and pulled him closer. “You’re not quite yourself at the moment, are you?”
Jack made a non-committal grunt and staggered to his feet. Ianto stood with him, steadying Jack as he wavered a little. “I think I need to lie down a while.”
Mary appeared at their side, and she gave Ianto a sympathetic smile. “Come with me, Jack,” she said calmly, taking his arm. “There’s a bed out the back you can use.”
Happy that Jack allowed himself to be led away by Mary, Ianto offered Philip a hand and pulled him to his feet. “I’m sorry about Jack. This isn’t normal behaviour for him.”
“I never took Harkness to be the jealous type.”
“He’s not - usually.”
Ianto spotted Kelis out of the corner of his eye, she was watching Jack leave, an odd expression on her face. A long dead memory from his childhood involving his grandfather stirred but failed to fully form, and Ianto thought another conversation was needed between himself and his great-aunt in the imminent future.
“If you’re feeling up to it, can we do the scan now?” asked Ianto, conscious that Philip was rubbing his jaw.
“I’m fine. I think my pride hurts more than anything else.” He smiled weakly at Ianto and their audience. “But I think we’d best use Dunston’s office - for a bit of privacy.”
Dunston muttered something that could have been an affirmative, or maybe telling them very rudely what he thought of the idea, but Philip was already guiding Ianto to the small area across the other side of the room which could be sealed off by a shabby looking curtain. The Doctor, Ianto noticed, was scowling again.
Philip drew the curtain and pressed a small blue button on Dunston’s desk. The curtain shimmered and Ianto raised a curious eyebrow in Philip’s direction. “It’s a dampening field,” he explained. “Dunston demonstrated it to me earlier during one of the less heated discussions.”
The office area was little more than a small desk, a filing cabinet and two chairs, the last of which Philip was arranging so they could sit opposite each other and close enough that their knees would almost be touching.
“It probably wasn’t prudent telling Jack that we were once lovers,” said Philip, sitting down. He rolled up his sleeves and reached forward placing the fingertips of each hand on either side of Ianto’s forehead.
Ianto copied Philip’s actions so they sat opposite each other cradling each other’s head. “I didn’t tell him, which is odd in itself. Besides, he shouldn’t have reacted that way. I’m far too old for him to expect me to be a virgin before we slept together, and it really isn’t in Jack’s character to be overly jealous.”
“And it’s not like you’d throw him over for me.”
“If you’re fishing for compliments, Philip, you’ve come to the wrong place,” Ianto said, smirking. “We did have fun while it lasted, it just didn’t last that long.”
Philip chuckled. “Oi, a guy could get a complex.”
Ianto’s eyelids fluttered closed as he felt Philip probe his mind. He had to concentrate hard not to raise his shields as Philip explored the crooks and crannies of his consciousness. Philip’s touch was gentle, like an experienced lover dealing with a skittish bed-mate.
“Your shields have really improved,” murmured Philip as he tried to concentrate.
“Jack taught me a couple of tricks.”
“I bet he did, but what about your shields?”
“Ha, ha,” deadpanned Ianto in reply. “Found anything?”
“No. Your turn.”
Ianto had always found this sort of thing difficult. He wasn’t naturally gifted, and it had taken several years of training during his teens before he could even scratch the surface of someone else’s thoughts. He’d had some, but not a great deal, of practise over the years, and it was now only the familiarity of Philip’s mind, and the other man repressing his psychic abilities, that allowed Ianto access. The other members of Torchwood Four often forgot he wasn’t like them; he was a conduit for their energy, a facilitator of their gifts and not a practitioner in his own right.
“You’re thinking too much,” warned Philip gently.
Rifling through someone mind was not something Ianto had ever grown accustomed to. It was like flicking through a very large, uncategorised scrapbook. He was careful not to linger long enough to witness or trigger actual memories as it was the overall feeling of Philip’s mind that he was trying to assess. There was nothing that sat out of place or felt awkward; no alien energy or human-caused damaged present that could alter the recognisable landscape before him.
Ianto withdrew. “All normal.”
“Well, it was worth a try. Always best to rule out the obvious first.”
They emerged from the office to see Kelis, the Doctor and Dunston examining a bank of CCTV screens. The Doctor was shaking his head and Dunston looked frustrated. “I can’t see what you’re talking about,” insisted the Doctor.
Dunston pointed at one of the screens. “It’s right there.”
Ianto had to agree with the Doctor. “I can’t see it either, but I’m getting the feeling we’re in the minority.”
On the far monitor, Ianto caught sight of the Torchwood Four twins returning. They appeared to be doing something between a mime act and an interpretive dance. “What are they up to?” he asked, squinting at the screen.
“They’re bringing back one of old Cerby’s siblings. That’s a chimera,” explained Dunston. “Looks a wee bit frisky. I might as well go up and give them a hand.”
Kelis looked as bemused as Ianto felt. “You can’t see the chimera either?” Ianto asked.
“No,” she said very quietly. “There is nothing there. What we should be asking is why they can see something, not why we can’t.”
For the first time the Doctor noticed the three-headed dog who sat panting heavily at her feet. He crouched down and petted one of Floxy’s heads, careful to avoid the drool. “Well, aren’t you a handsome young man?” He looked up at Kelis. “He’s a Flaxian Dabble dog, isn’t he?”
“Yes,” she replied with affection. “Mad as anything and very forgetful... capable of getting lost in his own kennel.”
The Doctor hummed distractedly. “Then why does everyone around here think he’s the mythological hell hound known as Cerberus?”
TBC
*Love's Labour’s Lost, Act V, Scene II
A/N: As always, comments are much appreciated :)
Chap 8 here: http://hel-bee.livejournal.com/27778.html