(no subject)
I was going to sleep and this hit me. I don't know how good it is, and it's not betaed, spellchecked or anything.
Title: Haven't You Ever...?
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairing: Jack/Doctor, Ianto/Lisa
Warnings: Spoilers for "Cyberwomen"
Summary: Jack finds something personal in the broom closet. Ianto watches.
Ianto had just finished cleaning up the common area and was packing up for the evening when he heard the noise. It was odd, like a siren, or the wind rushing in even, steady pulses. He set his briefcase back down neatly and slipped back into the Hub proper, stopping only to pick up a small revolver he kept stashed in a drawer near the front in case anything nasty decided to come in the back door. He was still hidden behind the bank of computers when he saw Jack dash across the open area towards the broom closet as fast as his long legs could take him-- Ianto was terrified for a moment that the American wouldn't be able to stop in time and break his nose on the closet door. But somehow Jack managed, snagging the door handle and jerking the closet open. His shoulders were tense-- he could recognize the angle, a sharp upward curve that was rarely seen unless Jack was anticipating something, or terrified. Ianto had only seen Jack's body do that three times, and all of them had been life or death situations. What Jack was intending to find in the broom closet...
He clearly found. The door and computer conspired to block Ianto's view of the closet, but Jack made a sharp noise, a burst of breath or a sigh, or maybe a moan that was jerked all the way from the soles of his feet, and his shoulders jerked up a bit more, almost at his ears. Ianto stepped back, biting his lip to keep even the sound of his breathing quiet. Jack took two deep breaths, consciously trying to calm himself down, his shoulders slowly relaxing to their usual ramrod straight military position. Silently, Ianto cursed the angle he was standing at. He could see the motions of Jack's shoulders, but not Jack's face. And whatever was going on, Ianto would have given a lot to be able to gauge it by the Captain's expression. It helped a little when Jack stumbled back two steps, gun swung up in what would have been a crisp, businesslike gesture for anyone else, but was wild and uncontrolled for Jack. "Who are you?" Jack snapped, his voice hitching in his throat. Words were caught in his throat, Ianto realized-- Jack swallowed hard once, twice, three times again, gaze fixed on something Ianto couldn't see.
"Jack? Jack, is that you? You-- I-- FANTASTIC!" Ianto didn't recognize the voice, or the man it came from, a man who came barreling out of the broom closet, grabbing Jack by the shoulders and giving him a through look, seemingly completely oblivious to the pistol the Captain still held. "I thought you were dead. You should be dead. Why aren't you dead?" The man was taller than Jack by a few inches, sandy brown hair falling, tousled, in eyes that were too bright and intelligent by half.
Jack didn't seem too happy, trying to bring the gun back up between them. "Who are you? Why were you in the TARDIS? Where's the Doctor?" Ianto stepped forward, pressing himself against the computer console to get closer, so he could hear the hissed words and still stay hidden.
"But I am-- Oh. Oh." The strange man smiled a wry, goofy smile. "I regenerated, Jack. It is me." The gun trained on him wavered, dropping by a few inches. Ianto frowned, fingers clenched at the edge of the console; Jack Harkness didn't let his gun arm waver because of emotional considerations.
Except that Jack Harkness was finally turned so Ianto could see his face, and that expression chilled the young man to the bone. He'd never seen such a mix of longing and fury before. On Jack's face it was all jagged-edged lines and blue eyes like a shattered mirror reflecting a storm. Every muscle in Jack's body was tensed so hard he was shaking like a leaf in a hurricane, as though at any moment he would be torn away from what little stability he had left. "No. No," Jack denied, wrenching the words from the pit of his soul, "The Doctor wouldn't dare come back, not after leaving me here to die. Leaving me to die and I can't die. He wouldn't have--" The words broke off with a sharp, jerked sob that shook his entire body.
Ianto wanted to avert his eyes from the scene, from the stranger stepping forward and cradling Jack, tugging him into lanky arms, and Jack-- Haven't you ever loved anyone? His words swirled up from the depths of his memory, the blank, cold-- cruel, he'd thought-- look on Jack's face at Ianto's despair and need and love. --Jack was half-curled at the stranger's feet, pistol on the ground, dropped heedlessly beside him. Ianto couldn't hear the words the strange man murmured to Jack, eyes dark with worry and elegant, slender fingers sliding through Jack's short dark hair in soothing strokes, but Jack reached out and clutched the lapels of the man's brown suit, holding him tight and sobbing in great, gulping sobs that might have swallowed whatever words Jack was trying to say and buffeted his body so that it seemed like the stranger was the only thing holding Jack together.
Ianto felt a sudden, furious urge to take his gun and shoot the strange man in the head. He remembered those sobs, he remembered rocking beside Lisa's corpse-- the two corpses who had both been Lisa, the woman he'd planned to spend his life with, his rock and port in every storm-- while Jack watched, holding the gun that had ripped bloody holes in her stomach. Ianto wondered what would happen if he took away Jack's support and let him do the same freefall.
But the stranger kissed Jack's forehead and looked up, over the American's head. Those velvety brown eyes seemed to see straight into Ianto's soul, and it took everything he had not to cry out or stumble back into something. The stranger smiled that bright, intelligent smile and looked down at Jack fondly. Ianto's body seized up, a warm feeling rolling over him like silken comfort, like when Lisa used to wrap her arms around him from behind and kiss his neck.
When he let the gun clatter to the ground, Jack didn't even look up. Ianto bolted from Torchwood with those bottle brown eyes boring into his back the whole way.
Title: Haven't You Ever...?
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairing: Jack/Doctor, Ianto/Lisa
Warnings: Spoilers for "Cyberwomen"
Summary: Jack finds something personal in the broom closet. Ianto watches.
Ianto had just finished cleaning up the common area and was packing up for the evening when he heard the noise. It was odd, like a siren, or the wind rushing in even, steady pulses. He set his briefcase back down neatly and slipped back into the Hub proper, stopping only to pick up a small revolver he kept stashed in a drawer near the front in case anything nasty decided to come in the back door. He was still hidden behind the bank of computers when he saw Jack dash across the open area towards the broom closet as fast as his long legs could take him-- Ianto was terrified for a moment that the American wouldn't be able to stop in time and break his nose on the closet door. But somehow Jack managed, snagging the door handle and jerking the closet open. His shoulders were tense-- he could recognize the angle, a sharp upward curve that was rarely seen unless Jack was anticipating something, or terrified. Ianto had only seen Jack's body do that three times, and all of them had been life or death situations. What Jack was intending to find in the broom closet...
He clearly found. The door and computer conspired to block Ianto's view of the closet, but Jack made a sharp noise, a burst of breath or a sigh, or maybe a moan that was jerked all the way from the soles of his feet, and his shoulders jerked up a bit more, almost at his ears. Ianto stepped back, biting his lip to keep even the sound of his breathing quiet. Jack took two deep breaths, consciously trying to calm himself down, his shoulders slowly relaxing to their usual ramrod straight military position. Silently, Ianto cursed the angle he was standing at. He could see the motions of Jack's shoulders, but not Jack's face. And whatever was going on, Ianto would have given a lot to be able to gauge it by the Captain's expression. It helped a little when Jack stumbled back two steps, gun swung up in what would have been a crisp, businesslike gesture for anyone else, but was wild and uncontrolled for Jack. "Who are you?" Jack snapped, his voice hitching in his throat. Words were caught in his throat, Ianto realized-- Jack swallowed hard once, twice, three times again, gaze fixed on something Ianto couldn't see.
"Jack? Jack, is that you? You-- I-- FANTASTIC!" Ianto didn't recognize the voice, or the man it came from, a man who came barreling out of the broom closet, grabbing Jack by the shoulders and giving him a through look, seemingly completely oblivious to the pistol the Captain still held. "I thought you were dead. You should be dead. Why aren't you dead?" The man was taller than Jack by a few inches, sandy brown hair falling, tousled, in eyes that were too bright and intelligent by half.
Jack didn't seem too happy, trying to bring the gun back up between them. "Who are you? Why were you in the TARDIS? Where's the Doctor?" Ianto stepped forward, pressing himself against the computer console to get closer, so he could hear the hissed words and still stay hidden.
"But I am-- Oh. Oh." The strange man smiled a wry, goofy smile. "I regenerated, Jack. It is me." The gun trained on him wavered, dropping by a few inches. Ianto frowned, fingers clenched at the edge of the console; Jack Harkness didn't let his gun arm waver because of emotional considerations.
Except that Jack Harkness was finally turned so Ianto could see his face, and that expression chilled the young man to the bone. He'd never seen such a mix of longing and fury before. On Jack's face it was all jagged-edged lines and blue eyes like a shattered mirror reflecting a storm. Every muscle in Jack's body was tensed so hard he was shaking like a leaf in a hurricane, as though at any moment he would be torn away from what little stability he had left. "No. No," Jack denied, wrenching the words from the pit of his soul, "The Doctor wouldn't dare come back, not after leaving me here to die. Leaving me to die and I can't die. He wouldn't have--" The words broke off with a sharp, jerked sob that shook his entire body.
Ianto wanted to avert his eyes from the scene, from the stranger stepping forward and cradling Jack, tugging him into lanky arms, and Jack-- Haven't you ever loved anyone? His words swirled up from the depths of his memory, the blank, cold-- cruel, he'd thought-- look on Jack's face at Ianto's despair and need and love. --Jack was half-curled at the stranger's feet, pistol on the ground, dropped heedlessly beside him. Ianto couldn't hear the words the strange man murmured to Jack, eyes dark with worry and elegant, slender fingers sliding through Jack's short dark hair in soothing strokes, but Jack reached out and clutched the lapels of the man's brown suit, holding him tight and sobbing in great, gulping sobs that might have swallowed whatever words Jack was trying to say and buffeted his body so that it seemed like the stranger was the only thing holding Jack together.
Ianto felt a sudden, furious urge to take his gun and shoot the strange man in the head. He remembered those sobs, he remembered rocking beside Lisa's corpse-- the two corpses who had both been Lisa, the woman he'd planned to spend his life with, his rock and port in every storm-- while Jack watched, holding the gun that had ripped bloody holes in her stomach. Ianto wondered what would happen if he took away Jack's support and let him do the same freefall.
But the stranger kissed Jack's forehead and looked up, over the American's head. Those velvety brown eyes seemed to see straight into Ianto's soul, and it took everything he had not to cry out or stumble back into something. The stranger smiled that bright, intelligent smile and looked down at Jack fondly. Ianto's body seized up, a warm feeling rolling over him like silken comfort, like when Lisa used to wrap her arms around him from behind and kiss his neck.
When he let the gun clatter to the ground, Jack didn't even look up. Ianto bolted from Torchwood with those bottle brown eyes boring into his back the whole way.