A Moth and a Light
Title:A Moth and a Light
Rating: G
Characters: Gwen+Ianto
Words: ~2000
Beta: curriejean
Summary: Gwen and Ianto at sunrise.
Author's Note: For pocky_slash! Happy birthday! <3
“We were raised by strangers;
The life that you had in mind
Was just a moth and a light.”
-Fanfarlo [“Fire Escape”]
Ianto used to think that Gwen’s hair was always matted with blood. It was the thickness of it, and the way it fell in certain places. It gave itself over to the illusion of injury. When she would burst through the Tourist Office door with the rest of the team, it would always strike him first that something terrible had happened, but then she would laugh and smack Jack’s hands away from her and not even glance in the direction of the Tourist Office desk, and Ianto would take his hand off the phone and straighten up and remind himself that not every mission garnered new scars, and that sometimes people just looked more easily hurt.
He remembered that now, with the mass of Gwen’s hair on his shoulder, breathing deep and slow as she slept. She’d been surprised when he pulled the blanket out of the boot of the SUV, and he’d needed to remind her with a wry smile that he was prepared for all occasions. Then she’d asked if he and Jack had shagged on that blanket, and he’d lied, because it was the right thing to do.
The sun was rising, just on the horizon, a round little light that turned the sky around it pink and grey, while the rest remained a brightening blue-black. Ianto turned his face toward the light and breathed in, slow, his chest expanding and his eyes closing, a smile creeping over his lips. Dawn was his favorite time, no matter the direction from which he saw it. It was the stillness, the calm. The slow knowledge of the birds starting to sing, before they became background noise, before the troubles of the day began to take over. He loved that peacefulness, which was so difficult to cultivate for himself, with his job, with the people he was surrounded by. He needed dawn, sometimes, to capture that silence.
Gwen shifted against him, and he adjusted his position slightly to make her more comfortable, lying on his back with his face turned toward the sun, Gwen on her side with her head on his shoulder, one arm slung across his chest, almost possessive. He turned his head to stare straight up at the sky, to watch it slowly, slowly become brighter, black bleeding in gradients to grey, to blue. He let out a silent breath.
“Why did you do it?”
He glanced at Gwen, surprised, but all he could see was her hair. He smiled a little at that. He could feel her breath on his neck, still slow, but not as deep, not sleeping. “Do what?” he asked.
“Join,” she said. Her voice was muffled by his shoulder, and by the rest she’d had. “Torchwood.”
He watched the sky, thinking. Testing answers. He pursed his lips. “I was young,” he said.
“You’re still young.” He could hear the fond, sleepy smile in her voice. “Is that all?”
He shrugged, carefully, trying not to jostle her. “It was something different. Money and - not adventure, not in London. But something close enough. Something safer.”
“You could see it without being it,” she said.
“Yes.” He fell silent. Birds were starting, somewhere in the trees.
“Why did you stay? After London. After--” She broke off.
He could still see her; that dark, thick hair in front of her face, her head turned away, her gun lowering slowly. The others could look, but she couldn’t. When he broke down between the two bodies that had been Lisa, she couldn’t look at him.
He put a hand over hers on his chest, as if she would fade away from him.
“That’s a difficult question.” He turned his face again to see the sun, higher than before, a half-circle on the horizon, like a painting or an animated movie. “I don’t know if I have an answer.”
“Try.”
He smiled, soft, beaten. “I needed to see what would happen,” he said. “Even if what would happen was awful. I needed to see it. I was too invested to not see it through.”
There was a moment of silence. She pressed tighter against him, burrowing her face deeper into his suit jacket, and he was grateful that it was unseasonably warm. Dew flashed and glinted in tiny beads on the blades of grass that stretched around them on the hill, catching the first light and waving in the soft breeze. Ianto closed his eyes. It was all very pleasant, very soft and sweet, with the dew and the endless expanse of sky, the growing light. He drifted for a moment.
He asked, “Why did you? Join.”
She raised her head, and he glanced over to see her face. Yesterday’s makeup and a windswept rat’s nest of dark hair, but she couldn’t help but be beautiful, the way Tosh couldn’t help but be beautiful, and he envied them that. Gwen considered him with an unreadable expression. He could see her trying to parse an answer to his question, out of all of the impressions that came up. She sighed and dropped her head back down hard enough to bruise. “I don’t know,” she said. “I couldn’t just let it go. I’d seen a woman killed by it, and I was on a rooftop with Jack and he was telling me about how he couldn’t die.” She rolled her forehead back and forth across Ianto’s collar bone. “It was too much to give up.”
Ianto considered. It was getting brighter. The sky was all grey. Clouds drifted white and fluffy and lazy above them. “Did you ever want more, before this? Before you knew anything?”
Gwen paused, thinking. The hand across his chest bunched and released the fabric of his jacket. “No,” she said, slowly. “I didn’t want anything bigger. I liked what I had.”
Ianto let out a long breath through pursed lips. “Me, too,” he agreed quietly.
Gwen shook her head. “I don’t think it’s supposed to make sense. Why we do this. It just is what it is.”
Ianto smiled. “That’s practical. Prosaic.”
Gwen laughed. She moved closer, her arm wrapped all the way over his chest, a half-hug. “Are you happy?” she asked.
Ianto watched the sky. He watch the slow clouds, and the birds beginning to fly in twos, and he felt Gwen’s arm around him and her breath on his neck, and the prickle of grass against his hand through the blanket. He smiled. “Yes,” he said. “Are you happy?”
“Yes,” she said. Like a prayer, or a blessing. “Yes.”
There was a splash at the bottom of the hill, and both of them lifted their heads to look toward the shore of the lake. Jack was dragging himself out, drenched, covered in scum and water foliage and a very pronounced scowl. He looked up, spotted Gwen and Ianto, and came stomping toward them.
“What time is it?” he shouted.
Ianto brought his watch up to look at it. “Five thirty-six,” he called.
“You left me in there--” he coughed, and there was an unpleasant splat of water, “for four hours?”
“We don’t very well have the equipment to dredge the lake,” Gwen said.
Ianto grinned up at Jack as he stopped next to them. “We knew you’d come round. You generally do.”
Jack stared down at them, dripping on the grass, an epic frown on his face. “Don’t you guys look comfortable.”
“Quite,” Gwen sighed, and laid her head on Ianto’s chest. “I took a nap.”
Jack looked deeply disturbed by this news. “I was in a lake,” he said.
“We can’t all be heroes,” Ianto drawled. He tucked his free arm under his head. “There’s a change of clothes in the SUV. I’ll take your coat to be cleaned later.”
“Did you get--”
“We got it,” Gwen said, squinting up at him. “Took it back to the Hub. Came back to wait for you.”
Jack’s face underwent a dizzying change from perturbed to pleased. “You came back for me,” he said. He put his hands on his hips, grinning.
“Don’t look so smug about it.” Ianto was smiling, and around them the grass started to glow with patches of morning light, the sun finally high enough to highlight the edges of the blades, the trees, Ianto’s cocked knee, Jack’s shadow falling next to him. “It’s our job.”
“You came back for me.”
“Go get changed,” Gwen said into Ianto’s waistcoat. “You’re rank.”
Jack started off toward the SUV, his steps bouncing, sing-songing along the way, “You came back for me!” He drew out me to an obnoxious length.
Gwen turned her head so she was looking up at Ianto’s face along his tie. “He’s going to be impossible to deal with today.”
“Who’s dealing with him today? I’m going to sleep.”
“I can see you following his arse with your eyes.”
“You’ll kindly shut up.”
“His trousers are all clingy when they’re wet.”
”Gwen!”
Gwen laughed and pushed herself up to her feet with her hands flat on Ianto’s chest, the pressure pushing the breath out of him. Balanced, she held her hand out for him. “Come on,” she said, looking down at him on the blanket. “Time to go and save the world some more.”
He grasped her hand and let her pull him up. “You make it sound so easy.”
When he was on his feet, she pulled him against her, surprising him. Her mouth right next to his ear, she whispered, “Ianto.”
Thrown off guard, he whispered, “What?”
She took a breath.
“Race you.”
Then she pushed him away and ran off towards the SUV.
Ianto stared after her for a moment, mouth open.
Then he laughed.
Rating: G
Characters: Gwen+Ianto
Words: ~2000
Beta: curriejean
Summary: Gwen and Ianto at sunrise.
Author's Note: For pocky_slash! Happy birthday! <3
“We were raised by strangers;
The life that you had in mind
Was just a moth and a light.”
-Fanfarlo [“Fire Escape”]
Ianto used to think that Gwen’s hair was always matted with blood. It was the thickness of it, and the way it fell in certain places. It gave itself over to the illusion of injury. When she would burst through the Tourist Office door with the rest of the team, it would always strike him first that something terrible had happened, but then she would laugh and smack Jack’s hands away from her and not even glance in the direction of the Tourist Office desk, and Ianto would take his hand off the phone and straighten up and remind himself that not every mission garnered new scars, and that sometimes people just looked more easily hurt.
He remembered that now, with the mass of Gwen’s hair on his shoulder, breathing deep and slow as she slept. She’d been surprised when he pulled the blanket out of the boot of the SUV, and he’d needed to remind her with a wry smile that he was prepared for all occasions. Then she’d asked if he and Jack had shagged on that blanket, and he’d lied, because it was the right thing to do.
The sun was rising, just on the horizon, a round little light that turned the sky around it pink and grey, while the rest remained a brightening blue-black. Ianto turned his face toward the light and breathed in, slow, his chest expanding and his eyes closing, a smile creeping over his lips. Dawn was his favorite time, no matter the direction from which he saw it. It was the stillness, the calm. The slow knowledge of the birds starting to sing, before they became background noise, before the troubles of the day began to take over. He loved that peacefulness, which was so difficult to cultivate for himself, with his job, with the people he was surrounded by. He needed dawn, sometimes, to capture that silence.
Gwen shifted against him, and he adjusted his position slightly to make her more comfortable, lying on his back with his face turned toward the sun, Gwen on her side with her head on his shoulder, one arm slung across his chest, almost possessive. He turned his head to stare straight up at the sky, to watch it slowly, slowly become brighter, black bleeding in gradients to grey, to blue. He let out a silent breath.
“Why did you do it?”
He glanced at Gwen, surprised, but all he could see was her hair. He smiled a little at that. He could feel her breath on his neck, still slow, but not as deep, not sleeping. “Do what?” he asked.
“Join,” she said. Her voice was muffled by his shoulder, and by the rest she’d had. “Torchwood.”
He watched the sky, thinking. Testing answers. He pursed his lips. “I was young,” he said.
“You’re still young.” He could hear the fond, sleepy smile in her voice. “Is that all?”
He shrugged, carefully, trying not to jostle her. “It was something different. Money and - not adventure, not in London. But something close enough. Something safer.”
“You could see it without being it,” she said.
“Yes.” He fell silent. Birds were starting, somewhere in the trees.
“Why did you stay? After London. After--” She broke off.
He could still see her; that dark, thick hair in front of her face, her head turned away, her gun lowering slowly. The others could look, but she couldn’t. When he broke down between the two bodies that had been Lisa, she couldn’t look at him.
He put a hand over hers on his chest, as if she would fade away from him.
“That’s a difficult question.” He turned his face again to see the sun, higher than before, a half-circle on the horizon, like a painting or an animated movie. “I don’t know if I have an answer.”
“Try.”
He smiled, soft, beaten. “I needed to see what would happen,” he said. “Even if what would happen was awful. I needed to see it. I was too invested to not see it through.”
There was a moment of silence. She pressed tighter against him, burrowing her face deeper into his suit jacket, and he was grateful that it was unseasonably warm. Dew flashed and glinted in tiny beads on the blades of grass that stretched around them on the hill, catching the first light and waving in the soft breeze. Ianto closed his eyes. It was all very pleasant, very soft and sweet, with the dew and the endless expanse of sky, the growing light. He drifted for a moment.
He asked, “Why did you? Join.”
She raised her head, and he glanced over to see her face. Yesterday’s makeup and a windswept rat’s nest of dark hair, but she couldn’t help but be beautiful, the way Tosh couldn’t help but be beautiful, and he envied them that. Gwen considered him with an unreadable expression. He could see her trying to parse an answer to his question, out of all of the impressions that came up. She sighed and dropped her head back down hard enough to bruise. “I don’t know,” she said. “I couldn’t just let it go. I’d seen a woman killed by it, and I was on a rooftop with Jack and he was telling me about how he couldn’t die.” She rolled her forehead back and forth across Ianto’s collar bone. “It was too much to give up.”
Ianto considered. It was getting brighter. The sky was all grey. Clouds drifted white and fluffy and lazy above them. “Did you ever want more, before this? Before you knew anything?”
Gwen paused, thinking. The hand across his chest bunched and released the fabric of his jacket. “No,” she said, slowly. “I didn’t want anything bigger. I liked what I had.”
Ianto let out a long breath through pursed lips. “Me, too,” he agreed quietly.
Gwen shook her head. “I don’t think it’s supposed to make sense. Why we do this. It just is what it is.”
Ianto smiled. “That’s practical. Prosaic.”
Gwen laughed. She moved closer, her arm wrapped all the way over his chest, a half-hug. “Are you happy?” she asked.
Ianto watched the sky. He watch the slow clouds, and the birds beginning to fly in twos, and he felt Gwen’s arm around him and her breath on his neck, and the prickle of grass against his hand through the blanket. He smiled. “Yes,” he said. “Are you happy?”
“Yes,” she said. Like a prayer, or a blessing. “Yes.”
There was a splash at the bottom of the hill, and both of them lifted their heads to look toward the shore of the lake. Jack was dragging himself out, drenched, covered in scum and water foliage and a very pronounced scowl. He looked up, spotted Gwen and Ianto, and came stomping toward them.
“What time is it?” he shouted.
Ianto brought his watch up to look at it. “Five thirty-six,” he called.
“You left me in there--” he coughed, and there was an unpleasant splat of water, “for four hours?”
“We don’t very well have the equipment to dredge the lake,” Gwen said.
Ianto grinned up at Jack as he stopped next to them. “We knew you’d come round. You generally do.”
Jack stared down at them, dripping on the grass, an epic frown on his face. “Don’t you guys look comfortable.”
“Quite,” Gwen sighed, and laid her head on Ianto’s chest. “I took a nap.”
Jack looked deeply disturbed by this news. “I was in a lake,” he said.
“We can’t all be heroes,” Ianto drawled. He tucked his free arm under his head. “There’s a change of clothes in the SUV. I’ll take your coat to be cleaned later.”
“Did you get--”
“We got it,” Gwen said, squinting up at him. “Took it back to the Hub. Came back to wait for you.”
Jack’s face underwent a dizzying change from perturbed to pleased. “You came back for me,” he said. He put his hands on his hips, grinning.
“Don’t look so smug about it.” Ianto was smiling, and around them the grass started to glow with patches of morning light, the sun finally high enough to highlight the edges of the blades, the trees, Ianto’s cocked knee, Jack’s shadow falling next to him. “It’s our job.”
“You came back for me.”
“Go get changed,” Gwen said into Ianto’s waistcoat. “You’re rank.”
Jack started off toward the SUV, his steps bouncing, sing-songing along the way, “You came back for me!” He drew out me to an obnoxious length.
Gwen turned her head so she was looking up at Ianto’s face along his tie. “He’s going to be impossible to deal with today.”
“Who’s dealing with him today? I’m going to sleep.”
“I can see you following his arse with your eyes.”
“You’ll kindly shut up.”
“His trousers are all clingy when they’re wet.”
”Gwen!”
Gwen laughed and pushed herself up to her feet with her hands flat on Ianto’s chest, the pressure pushing the breath out of him. Balanced, she held her hand out for him. “Come on,” she said, looking down at him on the blanket. “Time to go and save the world some more.”
He grasped her hand and let her pull him up. “You make it sound so easy.”
When he was on his feet, she pulled him against her, surprising him. Her mouth right next to his ear, she whispered, “Ianto.”
Thrown off guard, he whispered, “What?”
She took a breath.
“Race you.”
Then she pushed him away and ran off towards the SUV.
Ianto stared after her for a moment, mouth open.
Then he laughed.