Time Again
The Maldovarium was an interesting place to work, certainly better than the last place Ianto found himself. At least there was a bit of class here, he was expected to wear suits and waistcoats and pour wine rather than look over scummy black market store room in the back of a run down piece of space debris called a shop. Oh, this place still had it's seedy elements, but it was more high class. Ianto had already put in his dues, earning his keep and his reputation to keep his mouth shut. What else was there to do when he was stranded here?
Ianto had a rather well tuned didactic memory, and while that served him very well in his exile from Earth, it made forgetting his old life impossible. Even if he did manage to get back to Earth, what would he be going back to? He was in the fifty-second century now. There were tariff regulations about time travel, no one would bother with him unless he had the credit.
Despite working in a swanky bar like the Maldovarium now, Ianto still was barely getting by. Saving up for a trip back to the twenty-first century would take three times, he figured.
He nearly gave up hope.
And then a blond woman with curly hair stepped into the club and Ianto smiled at her, taking her coat, and showed her over to Dorium's table. When he was asked to bring a box over a little bit later and stood by to watch it open, his heart nearly stopped. "Fresh off the wrist of a handsome Time Agent," Dorium proclaimed.
Ianto knew those hands.
He knew that wrist.
And when Dorium was spirited away not much longer by some debt he owed, Ianto realized he finally had a chance. Captain Jack Harkness was currently without his manipulator, though Ianto was sure that his hand had grown back by that point. He had to be around. Somewhere. All he had to go on was a pleasure transport leaving dock that would take him to the nearest hub and the name of the name that sold Dorium the box and hand.
Ianto had a rather well tuned didactic memory, and while that served him very well in his exile from Earth, it made forgetting his old life impossible. Even if he did manage to get back to Earth, what would he be going back to? He was in the fifty-second century now. There were tariff regulations about time travel, no one would bother with him unless he had the credit.
Despite working in a swanky bar like the Maldovarium now, Ianto still was barely getting by. Saving up for a trip back to the twenty-first century would take three times, he figured.
He nearly gave up hope.
And then a blond woman with curly hair stepped into the club and Ianto smiled at her, taking her coat, and showed her over to Dorium's table. When he was asked to bring a box over a little bit later and stood by to watch it open, his heart nearly stopped. "Fresh off the wrist of a handsome Time Agent," Dorium proclaimed.
Ianto knew those hands.
He knew that wrist.
And when Dorium was spirited away not much longer by some debt he owed, Ianto realized he finally had a chance. Captain Jack Harkness was currently without his manipulator, though Ianto was sure that his hand had grown back by that point. He had to be around. Somewhere. All he had to go on was a pleasure transport leaving dock that would take him to the nearest hub and the name of the name that sold Dorium the box and hand.