Thinking positive -- open to te_gwas
The Eye of Orion... one of the most tranquil places in the known universe. It's the positive ions, you know.
After a few weeks that were rather... well, hectic would be putting it mildly... the Doctor felt that some quiet time was called for. And there was no better place for it than the Eye. Abandoned, devoid of civilization, and perfectly, ( Read more... )
After a few weeks that were rather... well, hectic would be putting it mildly... the Doctor felt that some quiet time was called for. And there was no better place for it than the Eye. Abandoned, devoid of civilization, and perfectly, ( Read more... )
"You've got it wrong, we're in Wales."
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"Wales! You think this is Wales, Ianto? Come on..."
He hops over the threshold, shrugging on his coat. He takes a few steps into the empty ground, looking up, arms outstretched. He's grinning broadly, positively gleeful.
"They don't have stars like this in Wales, Ianto Jones!"
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"It's nice," he concludes (understated but honest), and not just because it reminds him of Wales. "It's... peaceful."
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"It may look like Wales to an uninformed observer... but we are actually on the Eye of Orion. Do trust me this once, won't you, Ianto?"
The Doctor shakes out a bundle he was carrying under one arm -- a blanket. He carefully spreads the blanket on the ground a good distance from the TARDIS and then flops down on it, arms behind his head, staring up at the sky. He looks rather content.
"So, will you be joining me or are you just going to stand there?"
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With no patterns to follow, his mind begins tracing images in the stars. That one's a dragon, obviously, and its tail... is... well, it has a short tail.
"Are there constellations here?" He expects the Doctor to know these things. "Or is that just an Earth habit, making patterns in things?" He's gotten that 'oh, you silly humans' spiel before.
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He trails off, letting silence grow between them. Finally, he raises one hand, pointing.
"See that star? The blue one. Nearly directly above us."
He traces a wide, inter-twining spiral pattern, his finger pausing for a moment each time it hits a star.
"Constellations are different everywhere. Each planet has its own perspective on the universe... its own unique set of stars and symbols. When sentient beings first came here, to this peaceful place... they saw order in the chaos of a million worlds scattered through the sky. Their constellations are all patterns and geometry. That's the labyrinth... perhaps the closest they ever ventured towards mythology."
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He follows the outline the Doctor's finger travels along, itching for a biro so he can write it down and clip it in his diary later. "The labyrinth," he echoes, committing it to memory. He blinks, and when he looks at the stars again, he can see the twisting constellation.
"Where did they go?" he asks after a minute of contemplation. "Those sentient beings. It's just that there are no roads or tracks, no glow of a town on the horizon. I suppose now you'll tell me they're just behind those hills and they're very quiet."
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A long pause. Everything is quiet save the soft sounds of the two of them breathing, the softer sounds of three hearts beating.
"This has always been a peaceful place -- it's the positive ions in the atmosphere. You can't help but feel calmer, happier, by just being here. But I like it better without the people. Quiet."
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It's a good sign that Ianto doesn't find it necessary to fill the quiet with banter (like 'is that a hint?' or 'positive ions, you just made that up'). He's even comfortable enough to drop the 'sir', it seems. He unbuttons his coat and sits up slightly to shrug it off, turning it into an impromptu pillow. It really isn't that cold. He'll trust the TARDIS' ambient readings, next time.
"This... probably would've been a better idea than the party, I gather." Has he apologized repeatedly for that yet? He can't remember. "I didn't think it would turn out quite so badly as it did."
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The Doctor rolls over on his side, propping his head up with his hand to study Ianto intently.
The idea of the party had not been quite the Doctor's cup of tea, but Ianto had apologized a ridiculous amount already. And though the Doctor was not entirely certain what had happened through the whole of the evening, Ianto had rather been acting as though the evening had not played out particularly well for him. No need to pile further guilt on the boy.
"Hardly a bad idea. It does seem that quite a few people enjoyed themselves."
The silence stretches out between them as the Doctor watches Ianto watch the stars.
"Though I can't complain about this, either."
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He's trying to find geometric shapes in the stars, now, trying to imagine what order was given to them. He's managed to find a lot of triangles. He almost wants to ask about more of the constellations, but he doesn't want their trip to turn into an astronomy lesson. He'll poke around in the library later.
"Did you dance, at least?" Ianto turns his head in the Doctor's direction, studying a cluster of stars just over his shoulder. "That costume was suited for dancing. And finding glass slippers. And so on."
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He rolls over on to his back again, watching the sky, his lips quirking upwards in a smirk.
"No glass slippers, either, strangely enough. Perhaps another time."
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"Are you sure you can dance? You keep insisting you know how, but I've yet to see you actually follow through on your claim."
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"Of course I can dance. Really now, Ianto, I've been around the universe once or twice. I've picked up a few things."
He pushes himself up on his elbows, sitting upright and looking down at Ianto.
"Do I need to prove it to you?"
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He'll hold back on continuing that, should the Doctor end up being able to dance well, Ianto will expect him to dance at any and all subsequent social functions they attend.
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"It's only a bluff, Ianto, if I actually don't know how to dance."
He wiggles his fingers, offering.
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