Born Of Necessity
Title: Born of Necessity
Author: mercury_pheonix
Characters: Archie MacDonald, Ianto Jones, Toshiko Sato, Owen Harper.
Pairings: Jack/Ianto, Tosh/Owen, Ianto/Tosh
Genre: A General Torchwood Fix-It
Spoilers: Post-COE. Spoilers for everything, including the descriptions of the new Series 4.
Ratings/Warnings: Teen
Summary: With Jack and Gwen in America, and the Rift still active, the people of Cardiff live under constant threat. Who will protect them? Only a little old man in Scotland has the means to save the city, and, by default, the world…
A/N: I wrote this as a way of releasing my own frustrations with the proposed new series of Torchwood, and as a way of trying to restore, at least for myself, the show that I loved so much. I've tried to make it as realistic and believable as possible, rather than just descending into crack and parody, so I hope it retains the feel of the Torchwood we know and love.
Born Of Necessity
Light filtered sharply through the cracks as Ianto opened his heavy eyelids, blinding him briefly and forcing him to throw a hand over his eyes. There was an insistent throbbing just behind his pupils, and each muscle in his body seemed to weigh more than he remembered it. Through the light-headedness, he eased open his eyes again, blinking once, twice, to chase away the stinging, before he hauled himself into a sitting position and took in his surroundings.
The brightness came from a harsh light mounted on the ceiling; there was no natural light in the room, which Ianto could hazard a guess was underground, judging by the damp, musky smell that permeated the air. The surface beneath him was raised from the ground; solid and metallic, the coldness running through into his skin.
That was when he realised that he was also naked.
Scrambling around frantically, he breathed a quick sigh as his fingers grasped at the sheet which had obviously been covering him before he had sat up. Wrapping it around his lower half, Ianto ran a trembling hand through his hair as he struggled to remember what had happened the last time he had been awake. He pinched the bridge of his nose as a few select memories filtered through:
He remembered the children chanting…the Hub exploding…and then a rush of movement that wasn't quite coherent in his mind. There'd been a warehouse…and then a tank. His hand flew to his throat as the memory of the virus filling his windpipe with a thick sludge swam into his head, his limbs suddenly feeling heavy with the recollection.
"I love you."
"Don't."
Well, bugger.
"That's the last time I ever declare undying love on my death bed," Ianto muttered, his voice thick with fatigue as he pulled the sheet tighter around himself. "Just in case I wake up to regret it."
His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden movement at the corner of his eyes, and he spun around. There was a sudden intake of breath, a sound that was distinctly feminine, and he blinked at the sight before him. There, laid out on another table, eyes wide and chest moving frantically up and down - with life, he realised - was a figure he recognised all too well.
"Tosh?"
She moved her head quickly, blinking hurriedly before her eyes seemed to focus intently on him.
"Ianto? What…why am I…?"
She pushed herself up, the sheet falling into her lap as she did so. Ianto averted his gaze, a warm blush creeping onto his cheeks.
"Why am I naked?" he heard Tosh whisper, before there was a rustling of sheets and he guessed that it was probably safe to look again. "Why are you naked?"
"Never mind the nakedness…why am I breathing?" a new voice filled the air, bewilderment shooting through the huskiness of the sound. Ianto and Tosh spun as one, eyes widening in unison as they saw the pale figure holding himself up on trembling arms. One hand moved from its supporting stance on the metal bed - identical to the ones both Tosh and Ianto had woken up on - to rest over a milky chest, the eyes darkening with confusion.
"And my heart…" Owen looked up, eyes sparkling with something swimming between fear and elation. "It's…Jesus, I can feel it. Oh God…" he laughed out loud, the sound ringing through the air. Ianto could see Tosh's mouth opening and closing as Owen's laughter rang through them, water gathering in the corner of her eyes.
"Owen…" she whispered softly. "Owen, you're alive."
"I'm really alive. I'm breathing!" he beamed at her, the expression unfamiliar on his face, but definitely not unwelcome. "And my head is killing me. It's brilliant!"
His face fell suddenly.
"Hang on. I died. Really this time, I mean. I couldn't possibly have survived that," his eyes flicked between Ianto and Tosh, confusion written all over his features. "Did you do this?"
Ianto rolled his eyes, shivering slightly in the cold and wrapping the sheet as tightly as he could around his middle.
"Yes, of course. We brought you back, then we stripped and laid ourselves out on metal mortuary slabs…just so you wouldn't feel left out."
Owen took a firm hold of the sheet, holding it in front of his crotch as he swung his legs, dangling them over the side of the metal bench. He fixed Ianto with a firm gaze, the hints of a smile twitching at his mouth.
"Well, that's just hilarious, that is. At least we can now be reassured that nothing's gone so badly wrong as to remove your sarcasm gene."
"I aim to please."
A cough interrupted them, and their eyes moved to focus on the figure of Toshiko, her back straightened and her arms grasping the sheet to her chest. Ianto noticed Owen slightly averting his gaze; that Owen, womanising Owen - who refused to do anything more than shag for fear of having his heart broken - couldn't quite comfortably focus his gaze on the scantily clad figure of Tosh, spoke more than anything he had ever said to the woman. Ianto felt a tiny smile spreading across his face, but he quickly suppressed it as Tosh furrowed her brow, her face the picture of business and focus.
"It seems to me…" Tosh closed her eyes briefly, her tongue flicking out over her lip in that way it did when she was thinking very hard. "..that we're here for some sort of reason. We're together, for one thing, and we seem to be ultimately unharmed, which leads me to think that whoever it is needs us alive. They had the decency to put a sheet over us, for another thing…that would suggest that whoever it is has done something to us, but that it isn't to harm us in any way. So, the question is…what do they want us for?"
"Well done! I knew I made the right decision, here," all three figures spun around to face the new, unfamiliar voice. It was heavy, thick and accented, matching the dull tread of feet as they walked into the room, shadowed by the imposing walls. Ianto reached to his hip instinctively, noting Tosh and Owen doing the same…
"Although reaching for a gun when you're obviously naked…not so intelligent, really," the figure took one step forward, a grin stretching its features as Ianto, Tosh and Owen took in the sight of a bearded, grizzled man swathed in thick red clothing, the body wizened and yet the eyes sparkling with a mischievous youth. "Your reputation precedes you, so I would have expected better than that."
"Who are you?" Owen was the first to speak, his voice tinged with that cold hardness that he had perfected over the years. "What do you want from us? Why are we here?"
"Woah, boy!" the man held up his hands. "One at a time. I'm an old man; I can't handle too much excitement."
He took another step towards them, removing his cap and bowing sardonically.
"Archibald Finnean Macdonald the Third," he patted his cap tenderly before placing back on top of his head. "But you may call me Archie."
Tosh gasped.
"Archie?"
Ianto managed to swallow back his own gasp, face crumpling slightly as he struggled to find words that wouldn't make him sound pathetic. Luckily, Owen, as always, had no such qualms.
"Tartan Archie? You're serious?"
"The one and only," the man grinned and reached forward, gripping hold of Ianto's hand and shaking it with more firmness than the younger man would have given him credit for. "Though, if that's what you're calling me these days, then you really need to work on your originality. I hate to hear what you call your tech if Tartan Archie is the best you can do."
He swerved expertly around the tables, taking each of their hands in turn and shaking with a heartfelt sincerity, as if he were genuinely pleased to see them. Ianto felt a slight twinge of apprehension at the fact that the strange little man was seemingly unperturbed at their naked states, getting closer than Ianto - and God knows how Tosh was feeling - was really comfortable with.
He cleared his throat softly, and the man turned away from where he had been focused on Owen's hand, his eyes raised questioningly. Ianto swallowed.
"Erm…thank you for the warm welcome but…how are we here? We…"
"Died?" Ianto nodded in answer. "Well, m'boy, that's exactly the reason why you're here. No need for you to be here if you hadn't have died…no need for you at all."
"You died?" Owen's eyes flicked between Tosh and Ianto, a tinge of pain creeping into the irises. "Did we…all die? Did the re-routing not work? What about Jack, Gwen…Cardiff, is Cardiff still there?"
Tosh reached over, laying a gentle hand on Owen's shoulder, her nakedness completely forgotten amidst the blind panic shining in Owen's eyes.
"It worked. I didn't tell you…it was Gray. Gray shot me, whilst I was helping you to re-route the coolant."
"You were dying?" the panic left Owen's eyes, replaced by a cool sadness that Ianto decided was one of the most tragic things he had ever seen. "And you didn't say, all that time?"
"It was more important…" Tosh tried, her fingers moving in small circles over Owen's scrawny shoulder, marvelling at the way his living flesh emitted so much warmth. "We had to stop the meltdown, that was the priority."
Ianto's hand twisted in the sheet as he watched Owen's eyes focus on Tosh's deep brown irises, swallowing quietly as he felt a lump gathering in his throat. He'd re-watched the CCTV footage, archived it - but he hadn't quite taken in the fact that, through all that, Owen had thought that what he was doing would save them all. That he hadn't realised that, whatever he did, Tosh was still going to die.
Suddenly, Owen blinked, shaking his head ever so slightly and breaking the eye contact. A blush crept across Tosh's cheeks as she quickly dropped her hand from his shoulder, wrapping the sheet tightly around her as if finally remembering that it was all that was covering her. Ianto watched Owen's Adam's apple bob as he swallowed nervously, before nodding stoically and turning his gaze to Ianto.
"What about you, then? Coffee machine explode, did it?"
Ianto shook his head.
"Incurable alien virus."
"Seriously…Space AIDS?" Owen's eyes sparkled ever so slightly, the deprecating tone masking that sadness that still drifted just beneath the surface. "Trust you to come up against an alien with homophobic tendencies."
"Anyway…" Archie clapped his hands together, the sound reverberating through the deep, stone room. "Grab a sheet and follow me."
Ianto twisted a finger into the sheet, the digit throbbing slightly as its blood supply was restricted.
"It would be nice to have some clothes, actually…"
"Oh, for God's sake, you work for Torchwood! Aliens, that's fine, but a little genitalia…well, that's just too far, ain't it?" Archie threw his hands in the air. "And you two" - he pointed from Ianto to Tosh - "it's nothing you haven't seen before anyway."
Tosh blanched as Owen's head snapped around to face her.
"It was a one time thing…" she whispered softly, averting her gaze as a similar shade of crimson stained Ianto's cheeks. "After the Brecons…"
"Well," Tosh's face loosened slightly as Owen began to laugh. "Of all the Torchwood scandals, that one I really wasn't expecting. You two keep on surprising me like this, I'll be dead again within a week." He swung his legs until his feet touched the ground, his body sliding to rest on slightly wobbly legs.
"You got clothes for us?" his legs shook, and he braced one arm against the metal slab. "'Coz you might have no problem, Archie, but I still feel slightly twitchy about wandering 'round in my birthday suit."
"Yes, yes," the grizzled old man waved a hand in the air, turning and gesturing for them follow him from the room. "I had a quick scan though the extracts of your consciousness, managed to find some clothes that you'll hopefully like. I wanted to make sure you felt at ease."
"Well, how kind of you," Ianto muttered thickly as he took a wobbly step forward, stumbling ever so slightly and struggling to keep the sheet protecting his dignity in place. "Hate to point out that you followed it by saying you had extracts of our consciousness to hand, but the effort is definitely appreciated..."
x
x
Ianto stepped out into the large, brightly lit area, his hands smoothing over the stylish Armani suit that Archie had bought for him. The shirt, a bright crimson, rested snugly against the contours of his body, the waistcoat wrapping his torso in a comfortable embrace as the tie nestled reassuringly against his neck. It felt comfortable and familiar, something that it seemed as though he hadn't felt for an eternity.
Tosh and Owen stood at the edge of the room, both admiring their own outfits. Owen brushed a gentle hand over his biker's jacket as Ianto entered beside them, raising his gaze to meet his and nodding to acknowledge his presence.
"Gotta give it to him…he might have no sense of fashion himself, but I couldn't have done it better myself."
"No, you're right, you really couldn't," Ianto raised an eyebrow innocently as Owen shot him an I-am-not-amused glare. "And he even realised that purple is Tosh's colour."
Tosh smiled warmly at him, wrapping her arms around herself within the confines of her burgundy jacket.
"And that red is yours."
"Actually, no," all three of them jumped as Archie appeared in the centre of the room, his hands buried in his swarthy red jumper as he strode towards them. "That came from Mr Jones' diary…ah, ah, ah," he raised a hand placatingly as a cloud of indignation descended over Ianto's face. "All in good time, Mr Jones. Now, if you would kindly follow me…"
He waggled his fingers and they followed him obediently into the depths of the room. The sound of machinery whirred in the background as they entered deeper into the strange world buried beneath the Scottish countryside; concoctions and potions, connected with strange tubing bled into various vats, dials squealed and chirruped as computers calibrated results at what appeared to be a thousand readings per second. Tosh's eyes widened as she took it in, the hunger blaring deeply in her eyes as the strange world ignited her sensibilities. Ianto and Owen cast quick glances, feeling a similar greed rumbling in their own stomachs.
They'd missed this.
"This is Torchwood Two," Archie spread his arms and pirouetted amongst the metal and fluids. "I'm its leader, its doctor, its technician and its office boy. Since the incident with the 456," he cast a quick glance at Ianto, "they say in the corridors of power that Torchwood is dissolved - a myth, a legend, something that people talk about in hushed whispers."
He laughed heartily.
"They tend to forget little old Archie, still burrowing away as he has always done, feeding them information which they will always take credit for themselves. Torchwood doesn't die whilst I'm still here."
"I'm sorry," Tosh stepped forward, slightly shyly. "But what do you actually do here? I mean, forgetting the whole Torchwood-being-dissolved thing, which I'm sure we can hear about another time…which we will definitely be hearing about another time…but what is your actual role?"
Archie smiled.
"I'm glad you asked. They always said you were the sharp one, the one with your eye on the ball - I always wanted to meet you, Toshiko Sato," he tipped his hat to Tosh, who smiled through the blush that had crept endearingly across her face. "Torchwood Two is the medical branch of Torchwood…anything that can be seen as in any beneficial to the human race is fast tracked to this facility and we test it, see if we can adapt it for human use. Many of the scientific breakthroughs of the last century can be traced back to alien tech first tested here in this little abode…although you won't find that on any records. It doesn't do to have it written down…people get funny about having treatments of extra-terrestrial origin."
"That's very interesting," Tosh and Ianto shot hard looks at Owen as he interrupted disinterestedly, but he shrugged them off easily. "But it doesn't explain why we're here. And seeing as I'm very alive whereas before I was very dead…very dead twice, might I add…that's the very huge elephant in my room at the moment. Sorry."
"Fair enough, lad, fair enough," Archie grinned, stepping to the side and reaching into one of the many drawers that lay open haphazardly. After a few seconds scrambling, he pulled his hand free, a tiny metal object resting snugly at the centre of his palm.
"This is a Temporal Transitional Extractor. We aren't sure of its origin, but tests have proved time and again that it is completely safe when used on humans, so please don't panic - I can't be dealing with hysterics, thank you very much. Its original use, I think, was the extraction of mind-waves at the point of death; the Extractor contains nanobots which travel through the time vortex to capture the consciousness of a person just at the point at which they die. It enabled the user to uncover hidden secrets after death, whether it be the thoughts of a loved one or the plans and schemes of an enemy that has just been killed. That's why I needed your diary, m'boy…" he pointed at Ianto "…I needed some kind of template that the nanobots could follow, rather than just sending them blind along the timeline."
"But…" Ianto ran a hand through his hair, his cheeks sucked in as he processed all of the words which filtered through into his brain. "We're here. Actually here. It's not just our consciousness that's been brought back, so…"
"That's because I adapted it," Archie tapped his forehead knowingly. "Added a few bits and bobs here and there so that the nanobots would not only retrieve the living consciousness, but a few cells of living tissue. In your case, it proved difficult," the smile that stretched his features as he looked at Owen indicated that he had relished the challenge. "Seeing as you were dead, I looked through the stored records from your branch to find some way to retrieve a snapshot of living tissue. As it stood, I theorised that your mind, at least, must still function in some capacity, and therefore I could retrieve a selection of living tissue from the brain. It was a long shot, to tell you the truth, but luckily it worked."
"So we're, what, clones?" Owen brow was furrowed in confusion. "But that kind of technology, that kind of ability…"
"Och, we've had cloning technologies since the '50s, m'boy. Unfortunately, we're still waiting for the rest of the world to catch up with us…who'd you think founded the technologies and methods of stem cell research, the growing of limbs or tissue from a basic cellular template? The world just isn't ready for hat we've got to throw at them. Plus, that I had both a sample of your living tissue and your living conscious meant that I could attempt to grow you almost identical to as you were at the point of death…'coz if I'd had to go through all that baby and growing up nonsense I wouldn't have bothered, trust me. Always hated kids."
He shuddered dramatically, tucking the Extractor snugly into his top pocket and patting it fondly.
"Took me a good while, I can tell you that. I've never cloned a full human before - never really had the inclination. Still, I guess where there's a will, there's a way, I s'pose; Schopenhauer always said that if you want something to happen hard enough, then it will. Plus, I'm a genius, though you wouldn't guess."
He winked at Tosh.
"Comes in handy, not looking the genius that I am. Allows you to go by unnoticed whilst you change the world. Now, then!" he clapped his hands again, turning swiftly on his heel and charging off with his three companions hot on his heels. He carefully negotiated the myriad of tubes and wires and machinery that adorned the room, which Ianto quickly calculated was almost the same size that the Hub had once been, tucked away beneath the Scottish soil. He quickly set about setting a reminder to ask were exactly they were, only to be suddenly interrupted by a loud, screeching noise.
His head jerked upwards, neck straining at such an angle that he almost fell backwards onto the cold metal floor. A shadow passed over them, large, imposing and very familiar…
"Myfanwy!" he gasped, his voice filled with a sudden awe that stopped his companions in their tracks. "But…how…?"
"Found her flying over the Brecons, a few weeks after the Hub exploded…" another questioning look from Tosh and Owen, which Archie silenced with a wave of his hand. "Another time, another time. Anyway, didn't feel it was a good idea to leave a temporally displaced pterosaur free to terrorise the Welsh countryside…thought the locals might talk. Managed to sedate her and get her back. I always hoped that someone would come to take her off my hands; the brute has no sense of hygiene, and she keeps contaminating my samples. Luckily, though, you can take her back with you when you go."
"Go?" Tosh jogged to keep up with the man as he once again headed in the opposite direction. "Go where?"
"Back to Cardiff, of course," Archie pushed open a door to reveal a small, poky office, very similar to the room that Jack had called home in the Hub. "Someone has to rebuild Torchwood, after all, especially after your former leader decided to take off and leave us in the lurch."
They followed him into the room, moving to the already-provided seats as he waved at them to sit down. Ianto, however, remained standing.
"He left?" his hands clenched at his sides again. "Why would he leave?"
Archie turned slowly to face him, the ruddy, jolly complexion falling from his face as he stepped forward and placed a gnarled hand on Ianto's shoulder.
"The Captain managed to defeat the 456 after they killed you, boy," he said slowly. "But the way in which he did it…well, that's not really my story to tell, but you'll find out some day. Just know that six months later he fled the Earth, leaving only the Welshwoman behind…now, of course, in her state there was no way she could make steps towards the rebuilding of Torchwood Three."
"And that's why you brought us back…" Tosh said slowly, her eyes still fixed on Ianto's expression worriedly. "To rebuild it…ready for when Jack comes back, so that he can assume command?"
"Och, no!" Archie's hand fell from Ianto's shoulder as he flopped down into the chair and tucked himself behind the old wooden desk. "The Captain came back months ago…"
"He came back?" Ianto's gaze never left Archie's, his eyes piercing, even as he slid into the seat to the right of Toshiko. "So why…?"
"Because he came back with the foolish notion that the Rift was closed, and that he was no longer needed in Cardiff. Him and the Welsh bird scarpered off to America some months back: something about saving the world from evil politicians," Archie scoffed, his displeasure evident in his face. "They were so intent on saving the world that they forgot about the little people; the ones that still need their help, whether the world needs saving or not. Because the Rift is still open…your Captain assumes that because that Doctor of his managed to avoid a total event collapse, thereby closing all the Cracks in reality, that the Rift, by default, was closed as well. Perhaps if he bothered to listen to the man he claims to idolise, then we wouldn't be in the mess we are today."
He suddenly noticed the look that the Torchwood team had shot towards him, and he held up his hands defensively.
"Don't look at me like that. Me and the Doctor are on very good terms, I'll have you know. Sends me a card every Christmas, he does. Methinks he just keeps an eye on me to make sure I don't go blabbing about my discoveries earlier than the timelines dictate I should. Anyway, where was I?"
"Erm…the Rift isn't closed?" Owen muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets impatiently. "And you brought us back for some reason because of that. Apparently."
"Ah yes…well, the Cracks are different from the Rift, you see. They wouldn't have been closed at the same time. In fact, the Rift is more volatile than it has ever been following that incident with the bomb, and because there's no one there to protect it…well, it's vulnerable, more vulnerable than I have ever seen. Your friends may save the world, but as long as that Rift is unguarded then the world is being eaten away, slowly, with each person that is affected by whatever the Rift spews out. I've tried talking to him, but, as always, Captain Ego refuses to listen to anyone but himself, so I needed some way of protecting the Rift. The government is too wrapped up in their own issues to step in, the Queen has very little power, and I'm not the most personable of individuals, as you might have seen - plus, I have no way of getting enough time away from here to train up a new team. I needed to test the cloning technologies away, so why not bring back the old one? Grow 'em ripe and fresh and ready to start saving the world!"
He pulled open a drawer, pulling out three pieces of paper and waving them in the air.
"I managed to garner enough attention from the government for them to give me a small, but talented, team of people. Not much use when it comes to alien fighting, of course, but absolute geniuses when it comes to building work and architecture. I've got them working right this second, rebuilding that Hub of yours…luckily, the lower levels managed to survive the blast, so it's the basic main structure that we're looking at restoring. These…" he waved the papers again. "…are first class tickets that will take you all the way back to Cardiff. I've also altered your records, giving you cover stories to explain your absence away as a flaw in the system; as you can imagine, people's view of government at the minute is so low that it's very simple to get them to believe such a thing."
Archie stood up, handing out the tickets one by one, tactfully ignoring the lack of bewilderment that spread across the faces of the three young people he had just saved from death.
"Oh, and if you do ever see that Welshwoman again," he pointed at Ianto. "Tell her to tone it down. Remind her she's a mother now. I'm all for working mothers and women's rights, but this whole alien fighting business is a tad irresponsible when you have a sprog. Now, if you'll excuse me…"
His hand came to his hat, tugging the brim importantly as he bowed and turned to leave the room.
"Hang on," Owen swivelled in his seat, straining his neck and glaring in an attempt to stop the mysterious old man from leaving them in the lurch. "You bring us back, from death, might I add, tell us we're clones, then just bugger off and expect us to get right back to Cardiff to start saving the world?"
"My boy," Archie turned briefly, a wide smiled cracking through the wrinkles of his face. "That is exactly what I expect you to do. Now, if you please, I'm a very busy man…Nessie gets irritated if she's not fed on time, and the last thing I need is a misbehaving plesiosaur on my hands."
With one final nod of his head, Archie turned and disappeared through the door.
Silence descended on the room, the quiet permeated by the incessant buzzing of the underground base. Ianto wrung his hands on his lap, stealing a quick glance at his companions; Tosh was biting her lip, her thumb playing at the corner of the ticket, whilst Owen was digging his nails firmly into his knee, the ticket resting untouched on his lap. The air fizzed with an electric charge as all three of the former Torchwood Three members lost themselves deep in thought, each working through the information in their own, unique way.
Eventually, Tosh broke her own reverie, clearing her throat in the silence.
"What do you think we should do?"
"There's only one thing we can do," Ianto waved his ticket in the air. "We go back to Cardiff."
Owen narrowed his eyes, his hands still carefully avoiding the ticket sitting on his knee.
"You think we should go? We just do as he says? We should be dead, Ianto…"
"Like that's ever stopped you before," Ianto smiled wryly before biting his lip, rotating the rectangle of paper thoughtfully in his fingers. "But, unless you have any better ideas…"
The ensuing silence persuaded him that he should carry on.
"Cardiff still needs us. We can't just leave it when we can do something to help; we can't just sit by and watch it happen. At least, I can't. Plus, don't know about you, but I'm not quite ready for a quiet life. Can't really see you settling down in the Scottish Highlands, can you?"
A shudder rippled through Owen's body at the thought.
"No…not really…" he turned to Tosh. "What do you think? Do we go?"
Tosh looked startled at the soft tone of Owen's voice, her eyes flicking between him and Ianto as if weighing up her options. Eventually, a small smile brushed along her lips, her eyes twinkling in that way they did whenever she came to the right conclusion to a problem.
"I say we go," she beamed, reaching out with both arms to take each of their hands in her own. "I say we do it. How can we not? We did it once…we survived without Jack and we became stronger as a result of it. We can do it again. And then…" she squeezed Ianto's hand, brushing her thumb over his knuckles. "…maybe Jack will come back, eventually. Maybe we'll see him again."
"Yeah…" Ianto lowered his gaze. "I hope so. But, until he does…"
He raised his head again, his shoulders straightening against the back of the chair as the fingers of his free hand curled around the ticket. His eyes brightened as he held Tosh and Owen's gazes firmly, one side of his mouth lifting up in a confident smile and his grip on Toshiko's hand tightening reassuringly.
"Let's go and be magnificent."
Fin
Thank you for reading.
Although I have no plans to extend this to a full series (That's the territory that "Served Cold" will eventually lead to) I am hoping it will spawn further one-shots and become its own 'verse. This depends on how you feel about it, so please feel free to share your thoughts and suggestions - the bunny thrives on reviews and carrots!
Author: mercury_pheonix
Characters: Archie MacDonald, Ianto Jones, Toshiko Sato, Owen Harper.
Pairings: Jack/Ianto, Tosh/Owen, Ianto/Tosh
Genre: A General Torchwood Fix-It
Spoilers: Post-COE. Spoilers for everything, including the descriptions of the new Series 4.
Ratings/Warnings: Teen
Summary: With Jack and Gwen in America, and the Rift still active, the people of Cardiff live under constant threat. Who will protect them? Only a little old man in Scotland has the means to save the city, and, by default, the world…
A/N: I wrote this as a way of releasing my own frustrations with the proposed new series of Torchwood, and as a way of trying to restore, at least for myself, the show that I loved so much. I've tried to make it as realistic and believable as possible, rather than just descending into crack and parody, so I hope it retains the feel of the Torchwood we know and love.
Born Of Necessity
Light filtered sharply through the cracks as Ianto opened his heavy eyelids, blinding him briefly and forcing him to throw a hand over his eyes. There was an insistent throbbing just behind his pupils, and each muscle in his body seemed to weigh more than he remembered it. Through the light-headedness, he eased open his eyes again, blinking once, twice, to chase away the stinging, before he hauled himself into a sitting position and took in his surroundings.
The brightness came from a harsh light mounted on the ceiling; there was no natural light in the room, which Ianto could hazard a guess was underground, judging by the damp, musky smell that permeated the air. The surface beneath him was raised from the ground; solid and metallic, the coldness running through into his skin.
That was when he realised that he was also naked.
Scrambling around frantically, he breathed a quick sigh as his fingers grasped at the sheet which had obviously been covering him before he had sat up. Wrapping it around his lower half, Ianto ran a trembling hand through his hair as he struggled to remember what had happened the last time he had been awake. He pinched the bridge of his nose as a few select memories filtered through:
He remembered the children chanting…the Hub exploding…and then a rush of movement that wasn't quite coherent in his mind. There'd been a warehouse…and then a tank. His hand flew to his throat as the memory of the virus filling his windpipe with a thick sludge swam into his head, his limbs suddenly feeling heavy with the recollection.
"I love you."
"Don't."
Well, bugger.
"That's the last time I ever declare undying love on my death bed," Ianto muttered, his voice thick with fatigue as he pulled the sheet tighter around himself. "Just in case I wake up to regret it."
His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden movement at the corner of his eyes, and he spun around. There was a sudden intake of breath, a sound that was distinctly feminine, and he blinked at the sight before him. There, laid out on another table, eyes wide and chest moving frantically up and down - with life, he realised - was a figure he recognised all too well.
"Tosh?"
She moved her head quickly, blinking hurriedly before her eyes seemed to focus intently on him.
"Ianto? What…why am I…?"
She pushed herself up, the sheet falling into her lap as she did so. Ianto averted his gaze, a warm blush creeping onto his cheeks.
"Why am I naked?" he heard Tosh whisper, before there was a rustling of sheets and he guessed that it was probably safe to look again. "Why are you naked?"
"Never mind the nakedness…why am I breathing?" a new voice filled the air, bewilderment shooting through the huskiness of the sound. Ianto and Tosh spun as one, eyes widening in unison as they saw the pale figure holding himself up on trembling arms. One hand moved from its supporting stance on the metal bed - identical to the ones both Tosh and Ianto had woken up on - to rest over a milky chest, the eyes darkening with confusion.
"And my heart…" Owen looked up, eyes sparkling with something swimming between fear and elation. "It's…Jesus, I can feel it. Oh God…" he laughed out loud, the sound ringing through the air. Ianto could see Tosh's mouth opening and closing as Owen's laughter rang through them, water gathering in the corner of her eyes.
"Owen…" she whispered softly. "Owen, you're alive."
"I'm really alive. I'm breathing!" he beamed at her, the expression unfamiliar on his face, but definitely not unwelcome. "And my head is killing me. It's brilliant!"
His face fell suddenly.
"Hang on. I died. Really this time, I mean. I couldn't possibly have survived that," his eyes flicked between Ianto and Tosh, confusion written all over his features. "Did you do this?"
Ianto rolled his eyes, shivering slightly in the cold and wrapping the sheet as tightly as he could around his middle.
"Yes, of course. We brought you back, then we stripped and laid ourselves out on metal mortuary slabs…just so you wouldn't feel left out."
Owen took a firm hold of the sheet, holding it in front of his crotch as he swung his legs, dangling them over the side of the metal bench. He fixed Ianto with a firm gaze, the hints of a smile twitching at his mouth.
"Well, that's just hilarious, that is. At least we can now be reassured that nothing's gone so badly wrong as to remove your sarcasm gene."
"I aim to please."
A cough interrupted them, and their eyes moved to focus on the figure of Toshiko, her back straightened and her arms grasping the sheet to her chest. Ianto noticed Owen slightly averting his gaze; that Owen, womanising Owen - who refused to do anything more than shag for fear of having his heart broken - couldn't quite comfortably focus his gaze on the scantily clad figure of Tosh, spoke more than anything he had ever said to the woman. Ianto felt a tiny smile spreading across his face, but he quickly suppressed it as Tosh furrowed her brow, her face the picture of business and focus.
"It seems to me…" Tosh closed her eyes briefly, her tongue flicking out over her lip in that way it did when she was thinking very hard. "..that we're here for some sort of reason. We're together, for one thing, and we seem to be ultimately unharmed, which leads me to think that whoever it is needs us alive. They had the decency to put a sheet over us, for another thing…that would suggest that whoever it is has done something to us, but that it isn't to harm us in any way. So, the question is…what do they want us for?"
"Well done! I knew I made the right decision, here," all three figures spun around to face the new, unfamiliar voice. It was heavy, thick and accented, matching the dull tread of feet as they walked into the room, shadowed by the imposing walls. Ianto reached to his hip instinctively, noting Tosh and Owen doing the same…
"Although reaching for a gun when you're obviously naked…not so intelligent, really," the figure took one step forward, a grin stretching its features as Ianto, Tosh and Owen took in the sight of a bearded, grizzled man swathed in thick red clothing, the body wizened and yet the eyes sparkling with a mischievous youth. "Your reputation precedes you, so I would have expected better than that."
"Who are you?" Owen was the first to speak, his voice tinged with that cold hardness that he had perfected over the years. "What do you want from us? Why are we here?"
"Woah, boy!" the man held up his hands. "One at a time. I'm an old man; I can't handle too much excitement."
He took another step towards them, removing his cap and bowing sardonically.
"Archibald Finnean Macdonald the Third," he patted his cap tenderly before placing back on top of his head. "But you may call me Archie."
Tosh gasped.
"Archie?"
Ianto managed to swallow back his own gasp, face crumpling slightly as he struggled to find words that wouldn't make him sound pathetic. Luckily, Owen, as always, had no such qualms.
"Tartan Archie? You're serious?"
"The one and only," the man grinned and reached forward, gripping hold of Ianto's hand and shaking it with more firmness than the younger man would have given him credit for. "Though, if that's what you're calling me these days, then you really need to work on your originality. I hate to hear what you call your tech if Tartan Archie is the best you can do."
He swerved expertly around the tables, taking each of their hands in turn and shaking with a heartfelt sincerity, as if he were genuinely pleased to see them. Ianto felt a slight twinge of apprehension at the fact that the strange little man was seemingly unperturbed at their naked states, getting closer than Ianto - and God knows how Tosh was feeling - was really comfortable with.
He cleared his throat softly, and the man turned away from where he had been focused on Owen's hand, his eyes raised questioningly. Ianto swallowed.
"Erm…thank you for the warm welcome but…how are we here? We…"
"Died?" Ianto nodded in answer. "Well, m'boy, that's exactly the reason why you're here. No need for you to be here if you hadn't have died…no need for you at all."
"You died?" Owen's eyes flicked between Tosh and Ianto, a tinge of pain creeping into the irises. "Did we…all die? Did the re-routing not work? What about Jack, Gwen…Cardiff, is Cardiff still there?"
Tosh reached over, laying a gentle hand on Owen's shoulder, her nakedness completely forgotten amidst the blind panic shining in Owen's eyes.
"It worked. I didn't tell you…it was Gray. Gray shot me, whilst I was helping you to re-route the coolant."
"You were dying?" the panic left Owen's eyes, replaced by a cool sadness that Ianto decided was one of the most tragic things he had ever seen. "And you didn't say, all that time?"
"It was more important…" Tosh tried, her fingers moving in small circles over Owen's scrawny shoulder, marvelling at the way his living flesh emitted so much warmth. "We had to stop the meltdown, that was the priority."
Ianto's hand twisted in the sheet as he watched Owen's eyes focus on Tosh's deep brown irises, swallowing quietly as he felt a lump gathering in his throat. He'd re-watched the CCTV footage, archived it - but he hadn't quite taken in the fact that, through all that, Owen had thought that what he was doing would save them all. That he hadn't realised that, whatever he did, Tosh was still going to die.
Suddenly, Owen blinked, shaking his head ever so slightly and breaking the eye contact. A blush crept across Tosh's cheeks as she quickly dropped her hand from his shoulder, wrapping the sheet tightly around her as if finally remembering that it was all that was covering her. Ianto watched Owen's Adam's apple bob as he swallowed nervously, before nodding stoically and turning his gaze to Ianto.
"What about you, then? Coffee machine explode, did it?"
Ianto shook his head.
"Incurable alien virus."
"Seriously…Space AIDS?" Owen's eyes sparkled ever so slightly, the deprecating tone masking that sadness that still drifted just beneath the surface. "Trust you to come up against an alien with homophobic tendencies."
"Anyway…" Archie clapped his hands together, the sound reverberating through the deep, stone room. "Grab a sheet and follow me."
Ianto twisted a finger into the sheet, the digit throbbing slightly as its blood supply was restricted.
"It would be nice to have some clothes, actually…"
"Oh, for God's sake, you work for Torchwood! Aliens, that's fine, but a little genitalia…well, that's just too far, ain't it?" Archie threw his hands in the air. "And you two" - he pointed from Ianto to Tosh - "it's nothing you haven't seen before anyway."
Tosh blanched as Owen's head snapped around to face her.
"It was a one time thing…" she whispered softly, averting her gaze as a similar shade of crimson stained Ianto's cheeks. "After the Brecons…"
"Well," Tosh's face loosened slightly as Owen began to laugh. "Of all the Torchwood scandals, that one I really wasn't expecting. You two keep on surprising me like this, I'll be dead again within a week." He swung his legs until his feet touched the ground, his body sliding to rest on slightly wobbly legs.
"You got clothes for us?" his legs shook, and he braced one arm against the metal slab. "'Coz you might have no problem, Archie, but I still feel slightly twitchy about wandering 'round in my birthday suit."
"Yes, yes," the grizzled old man waved a hand in the air, turning and gesturing for them follow him from the room. "I had a quick scan though the extracts of your consciousness, managed to find some clothes that you'll hopefully like. I wanted to make sure you felt at ease."
"Well, how kind of you," Ianto muttered thickly as he took a wobbly step forward, stumbling ever so slightly and struggling to keep the sheet protecting his dignity in place. "Hate to point out that you followed it by saying you had extracts of our consciousness to hand, but the effort is definitely appreciated..."
x
x
Ianto stepped out into the large, brightly lit area, his hands smoothing over the stylish Armani suit that Archie had bought for him. The shirt, a bright crimson, rested snugly against the contours of his body, the waistcoat wrapping his torso in a comfortable embrace as the tie nestled reassuringly against his neck. It felt comfortable and familiar, something that it seemed as though he hadn't felt for an eternity.
Tosh and Owen stood at the edge of the room, both admiring their own outfits. Owen brushed a gentle hand over his biker's jacket as Ianto entered beside them, raising his gaze to meet his and nodding to acknowledge his presence.
"Gotta give it to him…he might have no sense of fashion himself, but I couldn't have done it better myself."
"No, you're right, you really couldn't," Ianto raised an eyebrow innocently as Owen shot him an I-am-not-amused glare. "And he even realised that purple is Tosh's colour."
Tosh smiled warmly at him, wrapping her arms around herself within the confines of her burgundy jacket.
"And that red is yours."
"Actually, no," all three of them jumped as Archie appeared in the centre of the room, his hands buried in his swarthy red jumper as he strode towards them. "That came from Mr Jones' diary…ah, ah, ah," he raised a hand placatingly as a cloud of indignation descended over Ianto's face. "All in good time, Mr Jones. Now, if you would kindly follow me…"
He waggled his fingers and they followed him obediently into the depths of the room. The sound of machinery whirred in the background as they entered deeper into the strange world buried beneath the Scottish countryside; concoctions and potions, connected with strange tubing bled into various vats, dials squealed and chirruped as computers calibrated results at what appeared to be a thousand readings per second. Tosh's eyes widened as she took it in, the hunger blaring deeply in her eyes as the strange world ignited her sensibilities. Ianto and Owen cast quick glances, feeling a similar greed rumbling in their own stomachs.
They'd missed this.
"This is Torchwood Two," Archie spread his arms and pirouetted amongst the metal and fluids. "I'm its leader, its doctor, its technician and its office boy. Since the incident with the 456," he cast a quick glance at Ianto, "they say in the corridors of power that Torchwood is dissolved - a myth, a legend, something that people talk about in hushed whispers."
He laughed heartily.
"They tend to forget little old Archie, still burrowing away as he has always done, feeding them information which they will always take credit for themselves. Torchwood doesn't die whilst I'm still here."
"I'm sorry," Tosh stepped forward, slightly shyly. "But what do you actually do here? I mean, forgetting the whole Torchwood-being-dissolved thing, which I'm sure we can hear about another time…which we will definitely be hearing about another time…but what is your actual role?"
Archie smiled.
"I'm glad you asked. They always said you were the sharp one, the one with your eye on the ball - I always wanted to meet you, Toshiko Sato," he tipped his hat to Tosh, who smiled through the blush that had crept endearingly across her face. "Torchwood Two is the medical branch of Torchwood…anything that can be seen as in any beneficial to the human race is fast tracked to this facility and we test it, see if we can adapt it for human use. Many of the scientific breakthroughs of the last century can be traced back to alien tech first tested here in this little abode…although you won't find that on any records. It doesn't do to have it written down…people get funny about having treatments of extra-terrestrial origin."
"That's very interesting," Tosh and Ianto shot hard looks at Owen as he interrupted disinterestedly, but he shrugged them off easily. "But it doesn't explain why we're here. And seeing as I'm very alive whereas before I was very dead…very dead twice, might I add…that's the very huge elephant in my room at the moment. Sorry."
"Fair enough, lad, fair enough," Archie grinned, stepping to the side and reaching into one of the many drawers that lay open haphazardly. After a few seconds scrambling, he pulled his hand free, a tiny metal object resting snugly at the centre of his palm.
"This is a Temporal Transitional Extractor. We aren't sure of its origin, but tests have proved time and again that it is completely safe when used on humans, so please don't panic - I can't be dealing with hysterics, thank you very much. Its original use, I think, was the extraction of mind-waves at the point of death; the Extractor contains nanobots which travel through the time vortex to capture the consciousness of a person just at the point at which they die. It enabled the user to uncover hidden secrets after death, whether it be the thoughts of a loved one or the plans and schemes of an enemy that has just been killed. That's why I needed your diary, m'boy…" he pointed at Ianto "…I needed some kind of template that the nanobots could follow, rather than just sending them blind along the timeline."
"But…" Ianto ran a hand through his hair, his cheeks sucked in as he processed all of the words which filtered through into his brain. "We're here. Actually here. It's not just our consciousness that's been brought back, so…"
"That's because I adapted it," Archie tapped his forehead knowingly. "Added a few bits and bobs here and there so that the nanobots would not only retrieve the living consciousness, but a few cells of living tissue. In your case, it proved difficult," the smile that stretched his features as he looked at Owen indicated that he had relished the challenge. "Seeing as you were dead, I looked through the stored records from your branch to find some way to retrieve a snapshot of living tissue. As it stood, I theorised that your mind, at least, must still function in some capacity, and therefore I could retrieve a selection of living tissue from the brain. It was a long shot, to tell you the truth, but luckily it worked."
"So we're, what, clones?" Owen brow was furrowed in confusion. "But that kind of technology, that kind of ability…"
"Och, we've had cloning technologies since the '50s, m'boy. Unfortunately, we're still waiting for the rest of the world to catch up with us…who'd you think founded the technologies and methods of stem cell research, the growing of limbs or tissue from a basic cellular template? The world just isn't ready for hat we've got to throw at them. Plus, that I had both a sample of your living tissue and your living conscious meant that I could attempt to grow you almost identical to as you were at the point of death…'coz if I'd had to go through all that baby and growing up nonsense I wouldn't have bothered, trust me. Always hated kids."
He shuddered dramatically, tucking the Extractor snugly into his top pocket and patting it fondly.
"Took me a good while, I can tell you that. I've never cloned a full human before - never really had the inclination. Still, I guess where there's a will, there's a way, I s'pose; Schopenhauer always said that if you want something to happen hard enough, then it will. Plus, I'm a genius, though you wouldn't guess."
He winked at Tosh.
"Comes in handy, not looking the genius that I am. Allows you to go by unnoticed whilst you change the world. Now, then!" he clapped his hands again, turning swiftly on his heel and charging off with his three companions hot on his heels. He carefully negotiated the myriad of tubes and wires and machinery that adorned the room, which Ianto quickly calculated was almost the same size that the Hub had once been, tucked away beneath the Scottish soil. He quickly set about setting a reminder to ask were exactly they were, only to be suddenly interrupted by a loud, screeching noise.
His head jerked upwards, neck straining at such an angle that he almost fell backwards onto the cold metal floor. A shadow passed over them, large, imposing and very familiar…
"Myfanwy!" he gasped, his voice filled with a sudden awe that stopped his companions in their tracks. "But…how…?"
"Found her flying over the Brecons, a few weeks after the Hub exploded…" another questioning look from Tosh and Owen, which Archie silenced with a wave of his hand. "Another time, another time. Anyway, didn't feel it was a good idea to leave a temporally displaced pterosaur free to terrorise the Welsh countryside…thought the locals might talk. Managed to sedate her and get her back. I always hoped that someone would come to take her off my hands; the brute has no sense of hygiene, and she keeps contaminating my samples. Luckily, though, you can take her back with you when you go."
"Go?" Tosh jogged to keep up with the man as he once again headed in the opposite direction. "Go where?"
"Back to Cardiff, of course," Archie pushed open a door to reveal a small, poky office, very similar to the room that Jack had called home in the Hub. "Someone has to rebuild Torchwood, after all, especially after your former leader decided to take off and leave us in the lurch."
They followed him into the room, moving to the already-provided seats as he waved at them to sit down. Ianto, however, remained standing.
"He left?" his hands clenched at his sides again. "Why would he leave?"
Archie turned slowly to face him, the ruddy, jolly complexion falling from his face as he stepped forward and placed a gnarled hand on Ianto's shoulder.
"The Captain managed to defeat the 456 after they killed you, boy," he said slowly. "But the way in which he did it…well, that's not really my story to tell, but you'll find out some day. Just know that six months later he fled the Earth, leaving only the Welshwoman behind…now, of course, in her state there was no way she could make steps towards the rebuilding of Torchwood Three."
"And that's why you brought us back…" Tosh said slowly, her eyes still fixed on Ianto's expression worriedly. "To rebuild it…ready for when Jack comes back, so that he can assume command?"
"Och, no!" Archie's hand fell from Ianto's shoulder as he flopped down into the chair and tucked himself behind the old wooden desk. "The Captain came back months ago…"
"He came back?" Ianto's gaze never left Archie's, his eyes piercing, even as he slid into the seat to the right of Toshiko. "So why…?"
"Because he came back with the foolish notion that the Rift was closed, and that he was no longer needed in Cardiff. Him and the Welsh bird scarpered off to America some months back: something about saving the world from evil politicians," Archie scoffed, his displeasure evident in his face. "They were so intent on saving the world that they forgot about the little people; the ones that still need their help, whether the world needs saving or not. Because the Rift is still open…your Captain assumes that because that Doctor of his managed to avoid a total event collapse, thereby closing all the Cracks in reality, that the Rift, by default, was closed as well. Perhaps if he bothered to listen to the man he claims to idolise, then we wouldn't be in the mess we are today."
He suddenly noticed the look that the Torchwood team had shot towards him, and he held up his hands defensively.
"Don't look at me like that. Me and the Doctor are on very good terms, I'll have you know. Sends me a card every Christmas, he does. Methinks he just keeps an eye on me to make sure I don't go blabbing about my discoveries earlier than the timelines dictate I should. Anyway, where was I?"
"Erm…the Rift isn't closed?" Owen muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets impatiently. "And you brought us back for some reason because of that. Apparently."
"Ah yes…well, the Cracks are different from the Rift, you see. They wouldn't have been closed at the same time. In fact, the Rift is more volatile than it has ever been following that incident with the bomb, and because there's no one there to protect it…well, it's vulnerable, more vulnerable than I have ever seen. Your friends may save the world, but as long as that Rift is unguarded then the world is being eaten away, slowly, with each person that is affected by whatever the Rift spews out. I've tried talking to him, but, as always, Captain Ego refuses to listen to anyone but himself, so I needed some way of protecting the Rift. The government is too wrapped up in their own issues to step in, the Queen has very little power, and I'm not the most personable of individuals, as you might have seen - plus, I have no way of getting enough time away from here to train up a new team. I needed to test the cloning technologies away, so why not bring back the old one? Grow 'em ripe and fresh and ready to start saving the world!"
He pulled open a drawer, pulling out three pieces of paper and waving them in the air.
"I managed to garner enough attention from the government for them to give me a small, but talented, team of people. Not much use when it comes to alien fighting, of course, but absolute geniuses when it comes to building work and architecture. I've got them working right this second, rebuilding that Hub of yours…luckily, the lower levels managed to survive the blast, so it's the basic main structure that we're looking at restoring. These…" he waved the papers again. "…are first class tickets that will take you all the way back to Cardiff. I've also altered your records, giving you cover stories to explain your absence away as a flaw in the system; as you can imagine, people's view of government at the minute is so low that it's very simple to get them to believe such a thing."
Archie stood up, handing out the tickets one by one, tactfully ignoring the lack of bewilderment that spread across the faces of the three young people he had just saved from death.
"Oh, and if you do ever see that Welshwoman again," he pointed at Ianto. "Tell her to tone it down. Remind her she's a mother now. I'm all for working mothers and women's rights, but this whole alien fighting business is a tad irresponsible when you have a sprog. Now, if you'll excuse me…"
His hand came to his hat, tugging the brim importantly as he bowed and turned to leave the room.
"Hang on," Owen swivelled in his seat, straining his neck and glaring in an attempt to stop the mysterious old man from leaving them in the lurch. "You bring us back, from death, might I add, tell us we're clones, then just bugger off and expect us to get right back to Cardiff to start saving the world?"
"My boy," Archie turned briefly, a wide smiled cracking through the wrinkles of his face. "That is exactly what I expect you to do. Now, if you please, I'm a very busy man…Nessie gets irritated if she's not fed on time, and the last thing I need is a misbehaving plesiosaur on my hands."
With one final nod of his head, Archie turned and disappeared through the door.
Silence descended on the room, the quiet permeated by the incessant buzzing of the underground base. Ianto wrung his hands on his lap, stealing a quick glance at his companions; Tosh was biting her lip, her thumb playing at the corner of the ticket, whilst Owen was digging his nails firmly into his knee, the ticket resting untouched on his lap. The air fizzed with an electric charge as all three of the former Torchwood Three members lost themselves deep in thought, each working through the information in their own, unique way.
Eventually, Tosh broke her own reverie, clearing her throat in the silence.
"What do you think we should do?"
"There's only one thing we can do," Ianto waved his ticket in the air. "We go back to Cardiff."
Owen narrowed his eyes, his hands still carefully avoiding the ticket sitting on his knee.
"You think we should go? We just do as he says? We should be dead, Ianto…"
"Like that's ever stopped you before," Ianto smiled wryly before biting his lip, rotating the rectangle of paper thoughtfully in his fingers. "But, unless you have any better ideas…"
The ensuing silence persuaded him that he should carry on.
"Cardiff still needs us. We can't just leave it when we can do something to help; we can't just sit by and watch it happen. At least, I can't. Plus, don't know about you, but I'm not quite ready for a quiet life. Can't really see you settling down in the Scottish Highlands, can you?"
A shudder rippled through Owen's body at the thought.
"No…not really…" he turned to Tosh. "What do you think? Do we go?"
Tosh looked startled at the soft tone of Owen's voice, her eyes flicking between him and Ianto as if weighing up her options. Eventually, a small smile brushed along her lips, her eyes twinkling in that way they did whenever she came to the right conclusion to a problem.
"I say we go," she beamed, reaching out with both arms to take each of their hands in her own. "I say we do it. How can we not? We did it once…we survived without Jack and we became stronger as a result of it. We can do it again. And then…" she squeezed Ianto's hand, brushing her thumb over his knuckles. "…maybe Jack will come back, eventually. Maybe we'll see him again."
"Yeah…" Ianto lowered his gaze. "I hope so. But, until he does…"
He raised his head again, his shoulders straightening against the back of the chair as the fingers of his free hand curled around the ticket. His eyes brightened as he held Tosh and Owen's gazes firmly, one side of his mouth lifting up in a confident smile and his grip on Toshiko's hand tightening reassuringly.
"Let's go and be magnificent."
Fin
Thank you for reading.
Although I have no plans to extend this to a full series (That's the territory that "Served Cold" will eventually lead to) I am hoping it will spawn further one-shots and become its own 'verse. This depends on how you feel about it, so please feel free to share your thoughts and suggestions - the bunny thrives on reviews and carrots!