[TM] 186. Religion
It was another one of Gwen's games, shortly after she'd arrived. She leaned on the conference table and smiled around at her new coworkers, intent on knowing more about them and their lives. "So, do you any of you go to church?"
Owen snorted and reached for the last slice of pizza. "Sorry, sweetheart," he said, his mouth full. "You're in the wrong place for that."
"Why?" She looked confused. "None of you?"
"Only for weddings and funerals," Tosh commented quietly. "I wasn't raised Christian."
"Earth religions. Got to love them." She had gotten used to Jack's comments by now and didn't even bother asking. He never answered; it was frustrating.
"It's difficult to reconcile religion and Torchwood," Ianto contributed, only a faint amusement showing through. "Some people try, but generally it's out the window the first time we tell them about St. Francis of Assisi."
"...what about him?"
Jack laughed. "Alien."
Gwen gasped and then grinned, delighted. "You're kidding."
"I never kid," he answered, mock-offended, tipping his chair back almost to the point where he'd fall over. "He was Hajili-- or so I assume, since he obviously had Hajili blood poisoning. Poor people of the 13th century called it stigmata. He was probably a wayward traveller, maybe shipwrecked, trapped here-- and dying to boot. The Hajili are usually pretty long-lived, compared to you."
"You are having me on, aren't you? I can never tell if you're serious."
The look on his face was somewhere between teasing and sad, but as usual, he didn't answer.
"What about you, Ianto?" she asked when they had gone back to work; she'd remained, a thoughtful look on her face as he cleared up coffee cups and crumbs.
He didn't look at her and for a long time she thought he wasn't going to answer. But before he turned to leave, she saw the small, pained smile. "No, sorry," he said at last. "I haven't much faith left anymore."
Owen snorted and reached for the last slice of pizza. "Sorry, sweetheart," he said, his mouth full. "You're in the wrong place for that."
"Why?" She looked confused. "None of you?"
"Only for weddings and funerals," Tosh commented quietly. "I wasn't raised Christian."
"Earth religions. Got to love them." She had gotten used to Jack's comments by now and didn't even bother asking. He never answered; it was frustrating.
"It's difficult to reconcile religion and Torchwood," Ianto contributed, only a faint amusement showing through. "Some people try, but generally it's out the window the first time we tell them about St. Francis of Assisi."
"...what about him?"
Jack laughed. "Alien."
Gwen gasped and then grinned, delighted. "You're kidding."
"I never kid," he answered, mock-offended, tipping his chair back almost to the point where he'd fall over. "He was Hajili-- or so I assume, since he obviously had Hajili blood poisoning. Poor people of the 13th century called it stigmata. He was probably a wayward traveller, maybe shipwrecked, trapped here-- and dying to boot. The Hajili are usually pretty long-lived, compared to you."
"You are having me on, aren't you? I can never tell if you're serious."
The look on his face was somewhere between teasing and sad, but as usual, he didn't answer.
"What about you, Ianto?" she asked when they had gone back to work; she'd remained, a thoughtful look on her face as he cleared up coffee cups and crumbs.
He didn't look at her and for a long time she thought he wasn't going to answer. But before he turned to leave, she saw the small, pained smile. "No, sorry," he said at last. "I haven't much faith left anymore."