Torchwood IMs: Jack and Ianto's Demons
Title: Jack and Ianto's Demons
Chapter: 45
Characters: Ianto Jones, Jack Harkness
Author: a_silver_story
Genre Humour, angsty
Rating: R
Warnings: Angst, implied violence, implied C/D
Disclaimer: If I owned anything in this, I'd be a rich rich rich bitch. However, I am not a rich rich rich bitch so you may all, therefore, assume I own nothing. Which I don't. It all belongs RTD and the BBC, in case any of you didn't know.
Summary: This one's for goddess_ophelia. Finally, I'll let you know what's in Ianto's flat ...
FIRST PART | Ianto and Gwen's IM's
PREVIOUS | Torchwood Index/Masterlist
45 |
Jack paid little attention to Rhys as he barraged past him with a barked “Stay outside!” and threw himself side-on into the door behind him. He crashed through, Webley held out in front of him, ready to tackle whatever enemy had taken residence in the flat beyond.
Except there was no enemy. The flat was empty, aside from a raging Ianto and the sound of his angered shouts. They seemed to be directed to the space in front of and below the window, but there was nothing there other than perfectly clean ivory carpet and fresh air. Jack holstered his gun, crossed the room and pulled Ianto into a firm embrace.
“Where is she? Where’s she gone?”
Ianto gave him a strange look. “There!” he brandished towards the window. “On the sofa! Sat there! Just staring!”
“There’s ... there’s nothing there, Ianto.” Jack told him, frowning down. Ianto broke away forcefully and went to stand by the window. He started tapping a hand on something in mid-air, stopping at the same point.
“On the sofa ... on the sofa ...” he said. “It’s real, Jack. I can touch it!”
“And the fact you need to touch it doesn’t make you wonder why you need to convince yourself it’s there?” Jack pointed out.
“It is there! It is.” Ianto tried to convince him. “And she’s real .... I touched her hair and she’s warm ...” he trailed off, staring at the point where he seemed to see Lisa.
Jack turned suddenly as Rhys entered the flat. He didn’t care that he’d told him to stay outside. Maybe Ianto would believe two of them over the one-on-one situation ... but he wasn’t listening. No matter how much they told him there was nothing there, he insisted there was. He ran his hands over the back of the invisible sofa, walked around it - tentatively reached out to touch Lisa again. Jack wracked his brains. What alien would try and do this to him? Why would they do it? Maybe they saw it as fun? Or maybe it wasn’t aliens ... maybe ...
A thought occurred to the Captain, though he had to swallow hard and squeeze his eyes shut to prepare himself before speaking. “Ianto ... this sofa ... where did you get it? Where did you buy it for?”
Ianto seemed relieved that Jack was beginning to believe him. “It came with the flat. The little one.”
“Which flat?”
“In Canning Town.”
“London?”
“Right ...” said Jack. Rhys gave him a questioning look, clearly too confused to bother asking questions any more. “Ianto ... we’re not in London. Do you know that?”
Ianto looked around him, trying to make sense of his surroundings. “N ... ye ... This part ... this part of the flat is.” He concluded.
“So we’re in Cardiff - but over by the window ... that’s in London?”
Dumbfounded, Ianto looked around again. “We can’t be ...” he muttered, searching out another explanation in thin air. “But ... that’s what it is though. Part of the flat is in London. In London. In the past. With Lisa.”
Jack was starting to hope his suspicions were right. “What’s on the table, Ianto? The one in the corner?”
Ianto looked over at the table, but his eyeline was wrong and he claimed there was nothing on it. He was seeing the wrong table.
“And what’s outside the window?”
The sea. He could see the sea. The Irish sea, to be more precise. And there was a lighthouse.
Jack took him by the shoulders gently. He was clearly distraught - but it was a good sign he was more angry at Lisa for being in his flat than packing his bags ready to run away with her. Well, to Jack it was. Ianto’s face was flushed with rage and his voice was becoming hoarse and grizzled. “We have to get you back to the hub. I think I know what’s going on, but you have to promise to listen to me.”
~*~*~*~
They walked back to the SUV and then dropped Rhys off on the corner of his street with a thanks and an apology. Gwen met them there, climbing in and passing around chips. If she noticed that Ianto had chosen to sit in the back rather than ride shotgun as he usually did, she said nothing. She seemed to be treading carefully, feeling the awkward tension in the car and probably assuming they’d had some kind of argument. She didn’t ask what happened.
Back at the Plass, Gwen wandered off to get coffee at Jack’s request, leaving him and Ianto to enter the hub alone. They walked in through the cog door, and Ianto groaned loudly.
“The mess ...” he mumbled. “How can four grown adults make this much mess?”
The hub was spotless, and there were now only two adults to make a mess in it. Jack felt a twinge of sadness as Ianto muttered a “Hey Tosh.” as he wandered past her desk, followed by a “Yeah ... not too bad. Heh. I would, but Jack sent Gwen to go fetch some.”
The Captain took him straight to the bunker, sat with his back to the side wall and pulled him into his arms, stroking his hair. “I know what’s happening.” He said softly. “I’ve seen it before.”
Ianto nuzzled him a little, while Jack continued to run his fingers through his hair soothingly.
“The retcon - you broke through it, didn’t you?” he asked softly. He felt Ianto stiffen. “The Brecon Beacons, the cannibals - you remembered it all, didn’t you?” Ianto nodded silently. “It’s alright. I know what’s happening. Everything will be fine.”
Ianto raised himself, and kissed Jack. “I’m sorry.” He whispered. “So much was going on ... I didn’t think ... I pushed it to the back of my mind.”
“And that’s why this is happening.” Jack told him. “Your past is colliding with your future in your mind. You brain isn’t entirely sure where things are meant to be any more, and the more the retconned stuff you’ve broken through is ignored, the more confused your memory storage will be. It’s complicated - I can’t explain it properly. It’s like ... your brain is seeing what’s around you, and putting it together with what’s familiar. But it’s picking things that are familiar from the wrong time period. A botch job, if you like.”
Ianto was unsure. “So ... how do we make Lisa go away?”
“I can’t.” Said Jack regretfully. “The demon’s are in your head this time, Ianto. I can’t fight them. And retconning you will only make it worse.” He said to the hopeful look he was given. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “I can’t fight what’s no longer real.”
“What do I do? Do I just ignore her? Move flat?”
“I’m trying to think. This has happened ... once before ... it was fine though. In the end, it was all fine.”
“Am I going mad?”
“No.”
Cuddling closer to Jack, Ianto started absently picking at his shirt buttons.
"What if ..." Ianto began. Jack grunted for him to continue. "What if I talk through it? Relive it all? Let myself make sense of what happened."
Jack nodded silently to himself. "Maybe ... but I don't want to go triggering any panic attacks or anything ..."
"I'll be fine." Ianto batted away his concern. "I have one condition though."
"What's that?" asked Jack, frowning slightly.
"You ... you have to talk to me. You have to tell me ... you have to tell me why I can't tell you ... why you won't let me say ... y'know ... those words."
The Captain was a little taken aback by the request. His lips tightened and he looked away, the hand that had been stroking Ianto's hair stilled mid-motion. "You ... you don't want to know ..."
"I deserve to." said Ianto, sitting up to look at him properly. Jack took a deep breath.
"Talk to me about the Beacons first. Then I'll tell you."
Ianto shook his head. "You won't. You'll depend on me being too distraught to remember that you're supposed to go next. Tell me, Jack. Tell me now."
~*~*~*~
The Captain is aware it is a dream from the moment it begins. He knows it's not a good dream, either. Even if Ianto's there. All around them is black, the only light coming from what seems to be a spotlight above them. Ianto is bleeding. He's in pain. He's shot. So's Jack - but Jack is worse for wear. "You'd better be here when I get back!" he says gruffly. Ianto nods, tears welling up in his eyes and blood pouring from his side.
The spotlight above hurts his eyes at first, but he soon remembers himself. Ianto is still there. But only just. He's holding on for his Captain. Jack sits cross-legged, Ianto lying across him, his breath catching and blood escaping his mouth. He's still in pain, still bleeding - blood is pooled on the floor all around them. Jack's pen is in his hand, and the Captain gives it a questioning look.
Ianto can hardly speak, but he manages to indicate Jack's chest. He's ripped open the overshirt and t-shirt and written messages on the skin below in case he couldn't hold on long enough. There were Archive codes, passwords, protocols and phone numbers. Everything Ianto could remember that Jack didn't. There was even the location of the special coffee blend. Ianto was trying to speak. "Th ... thh ... it ... it ran out." he manages to whisper. His eyes indicate the pen in his hand. He's hardly strong enough to hold it anymore.
"What else is there?" Jack asks, choking back sobs. "Don't die ... please don't die ... not yet ... not yet ... it's too soon ..."
Ianto's breathing shallows and slows as he tries to draw breath and the pen rolls across the floor. He dies.
Jack stares at him, but blue eyes can't see. Hot blood surrounds them, soaking into their clothes and staining their skin. The Captain lets his eyes flicker back down to his chest - Ianto's final service to Torchwood - but sees nothing of importance to him. Just numbers and letters. Nothing personal. Nothing like what he'd hoped Ianto's last words would be ... and then Jack sees it. His eyes flickered to the pen that had rolled from Ianto's hand, now coated in blood and lying still. It had ran out. At the last moment, it had ran out.
Ianto had had to improvise in his desperation. Coating his fingers in his own ever-growing pool of blood, he had written his final message to Jack. The letters were messy and mangled, and part of the final word was being consumed by the red spreading on the floor. It said: "I Love You".
Jack's heart broke again. He repeated the words over and over, whispering them into dead ears:
"I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you."
... until the spotlight goes out and the blackness presses in. Jack awakes covered in cold sweat that, until he turns on the light, he will be convinced is blood.
~*~*~*~
Ianto didn't speak the whole time Jack had been talking. They had somehow swapped positions, with Jack's head on his chest and him stroking his hair. He'd opened a few of his shirt buttons, too, letting Jack closer to his skin and feeling for his heartbeat. Hot tears fell down the Captain's cheeks, and though Ianto could feel them he said nothing. He kissed his hair, and waited for them to stop.
When he was ready, Ianto began to talk about everything he had remembered. He spoke of cellers, fridges filled with body parts and hundreds of pairs of shoes. There had been a pile of clothing and chains hanging from the ceiling. A woman who had told him she was a nurse had taken them to that kitchen. Bodies on meathooks, organs in jars and a kid on the floor, bound and gagged.
Ianto was frightened, but Toshiko was there too. He had to look after Toshiko. Smiling at Evan, he'd drawn back his head and smashed their foreheads together. Tosh had got away ... but then there was only pain. Cold handcuffs, and the butt of a shotgun.
He came to as they were beating him - he wasn't sure how many there were. He could taste a bloody rag in his mouth, what he managed to assume was a gag, and there was hemp covering his face and head. One of the men had a baseball bat; the others had heavy boots and strong legs. He could hear the other boy crying, but he hadn't cared. He just wanted the blackness to come back, and one kick to the head ensured it did.
Jack listened as Ianto remembered being on his knees in front of Evan with the meat cleaver at his throat. "Time to be bled," he'd told him, pressing the blade against the soft skin, letting Ianto feel a little blood trickle. Then it all stopped. It all stopped ... and there was Jack. Just in time, blundering in on that massive tractor and firing off a shotgun and pistol and shouting and shouting.
"I've got a headache." Ianto groaned eventually.
"That's just your head sorting itself out." Jack told him. Gwen had come back a little while ago and had wisely decided not to disturb them, but a Weevil had been sighted off Hope Street and they really needed to contain it. "You have a rest. Sleep. I'll take Gwen to bring in the Weevil."
Ianto yawned and snuggled into the pillows, and was fast asleep by the time Jack was tucking him in and taking off his tie, just in case. Jack lingered a moment, stroking his hair. He leant in close to Ianto's ear.
"I ... I ... Lo ... you're more important than anything." he whispered. Ianto seemed to understand, his sleeping face smiling a little as he fell deeper into unconciousness.
FIN
This one is dedicated to goddess_ophelia, and I meant to say at the end of my previous chapter (and the chapter before that) that Janet in a dress was for griza.
Sorry it took so long to post (well, long for me). I took my laptop to me mam's on the train with me and some of the liquid crystals in the screen decided to burst. I've also left my charger at home, so got part way through typing it and everything went black. I've had to start again on the my mam's PC (which has like ... Windows 1998 BC on it) which doesn't even have Word. MEH.
Anyways ... it's my sister's birthday today, and I got her a Vortex Manipulator ... *ahem* I definitely only bought it her because she wanted it, not me ...
She's at school at the moment, so I get to play with it!! WOO!
Worship me, mortals: I'm a Time Agent!!!
Next Part | Previous Part | Torchwood Index | Request a Convo/Prose Fic
Chapter: 45
Characters: Ianto Jones, Jack Harkness
Author: a_silver_story
Genre Humour, angsty
Rating: R
Warnings: Angst, implied violence, implied C/D
Disclaimer: If I owned anything in this, I'd be a rich rich rich bitch. However, I am not a rich rich rich bitch so you may all, therefore, assume I own nothing. Which I don't. It all belongs RTD and the BBC, in case any of you didn't know.
Summary: This one's for goddess_ophelia. Finally, I'll let you know what's in Ianto's flat ...
FIRST PART | Ianto and Gwen's IM's
PREVIOUS | Torchwood Index/Masterlist
45 |
Jack paid little attention to Rhys as he barraged past him with a barked “Stay outside!” and threw himself side-on into the door behind him. He crashed through, Webley held out in front of him, ready to tackle whatever enemy had taken residence in the flat beyond.
Except there was no enemy. The flat was empty, aside from a raging Ianto and the sound of his angered shouts. They seemed to be directed to the space in front of and below the window, but there was nothing there other than perfectly clean ivory carpet and fresh air. Jack holstered his gun, crossed the room and pulled Ianto into a firm embrace.
“Where is she? Where’s she gone?”
Ianto gave him a strange look. “There!” he brandished towards the window. “On the sofa! Sat there! Just staring!”
“There’s ... there’s nothing there, Ianto.” Jack told him, frowning down. Ianto broke away forcefully and went to stand by the window. He started tapping a hand on something in mid-air, stopping at the same point.
“On the sofa ... on the sofa ...” he said. “It’s real, Jack. I can touch it!”
“And the fact you need to touch it doesn’t make you wonder why you need to convince yourself it’s there?” Jack pointed out.
“It is there! It is.” Ianto tried to convince him. “And she’s real .... I touched her hair and she’s warm ...” he trailed off, staring at the point where he seemed to see Lisa.
Jack turned suddenly as Rhys entered the flat. He didn’t care that he’d told him to stay outside. Maybe Ianto would believe two of them over the one-on-one situation ... but he wasn’t listening. No matter how much they told him there was nothing there, he insisted there was. He ran his hands over the back of the invisible sofa, walked around it - tentatively reached out to touch Lisa again. Jack wracked his brains. What alien would try and do this to him? Why would they do it? Maybe they saw it as fun? Or maybe it wasn’t aliens ... maybe ...
A thought occurred to the Captain, though he had to swallow hard and squeeze his eyes shut to prepare himself before speaking. “Ianto ... this sofa ... where did you get it? Where did you buy it for?”
Ianto seemed relieved that Jack was beginning to believe him. “It came with the flat. The little one.”
“Which flat?”
“In Canning Town.”
“London?”
“Right ...” said Jack. Rhys gave him a questioning look, clearly too confused to bother asking questions any more. “Ianto ... we’re not in London. Do you know that?”
Ianto looked around him, trying to make sense of his surroundings. “N ... ye ... This part ... this part of the flat is.” He concluded.
“So we’re in Cardiff - but over by the window ... that’s in London?”
Dumbfounded, Ianto looked around again. “We can’t be ...” he muttered, searching out another explanation in thin air. “But ... that’s what it is though. Part of the flat is in London. In London. In the past. With Lisa.”
Jack was starting to hope his suspicions were right. “What’s on the table, Ianto? The one in the corner?”
Ianto looked over at the table, but his eyeline was wrong and he claimed there was nothing on it. He was seeing the wrong table.
“And what’s outside the window?”
The sea. He could see the sea. The Irish sea, to be more precise. And there was a lighthouse.
Jack took him by the shoulders gently. He was clearly distraught - but it was a good sign he was more angry at Lisa for being in his flat than packing his bags ready to run away with her. Well, to Jack it was. Ianto’s face was flushed with rage and his voice was becoming hoarse and grizzled. “We have to get you back to the hub. I think I know what’s going on, but you have to promise to listen to me.”
~*~*~*~
They walked back to the SUV and then dropped Rhys off on the corner of his street with a thanks and an apology. Gwen met them there, climbing in and passing around chips. If she noticed that Ianto had chosen to sit in the back rather than ride shotgun as he usually did, she said nothing. She seemed to be treading carefully, feeling the awkward tension in the car and probably assuming they’d had some kind of argument. She didn’t ask what happened.
Back at the Plass, Gwen wandered off to get coffee at Jack’s request, leaving him and Ianto to enter the hub alone. They walked in through the cog door, and Ianto groaned loudly.
“The mess ...” he mumbled. “How can four grown adults make this much mess?”
The hub was spotless, and there were now only two adults to make a mess in it. Jack felt a twinge of sadness as Ianto muttered a “Hey Tosh.” as he wandered past her desk, followed by a “Yeah ... not too bad. Heh. I would, but Jack sent Gwen to go fetch some.”
The Captain took him straight to the bunker, sat with his back to the side wall and pulled him into his arms, stroking his hair. “I know what’s happening.” He said softly. “I’ve seen it before.”
Ianto nuzzled him a little, while Jack continued to run his fingers through his hair soothingly.
“The retcon - you broke through it, didn’t you?” he asked softly. He felt Ianto stiffen. “The Brecon Beacons, the cannibals - you remembered it all, didn’t you?” Ianto nodded silently. “It’s alright. I know what’s happening. Everything will be fine.”
Ianto raised himself, and kissed Jack. “I’m sorry.” He whispered. “So much was going on ... I didn’t think ... I pushed it to the back of my mind.”
“And that’s why this is happening.” Jack told him. “Your past is colliding with your future in your mind. You brain isn’t entirely sure where things are meant to be any more, and the more the retconned stuff you’ve broken through is ignored, the more confused your memory storage will be. It’s complicated - I can’t explain it properly. It’s like ... your brain is seeing what’s around you, and putting it together with what’s familiar. But it’s picking things that are familiar from the wrong time period. A botch job, if you like.”
Ianto was unsure. “So ... how do we make Lisa go away?”
“I can’t.” Said Jack regretfully. “The demon’s are in your head this time, Ianto. I can’t fight them. And retconning you will only make it worse.” He said to the hopeful look he was given. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “I can’t fight what’s no longer real.”
“What do I do? Do I just ignore her? Move flat?”
“I’m trying to think. This has happened ... once before ... it was fine though. In the end, it was all fine.”
“Am I going mad?”
“No.”
Cuddling closer to Jack, Ianto started absently picking at his shirt buttons.
"What if ..." Ianto began. Jack grunted for him to continue. "What if I talk through it? Relive it all? Let myself make sense of what happened."
Jack nodded silently to himself. "Maybe ... but I don't want to go triggering any panic attacks or anything ..."
"I'll be fine." Ianto batted away his concern. "I have one condition though."
"What's that?" asked Jack, frowning slightly.
"You ... you have to talk to me. You have to tell me ... you have to tell me why I can't tell you ... why you won't let me say ... y'know ... those words."
The Captain was a little taken aback by the request. His lips tightened and he looked away, the hand that had been stroking Ianto's hair stilled mid-motion. "You ... you don't want to know ..."
"I deserve to." said Ianto, sitting up to look at him properly. Jack took a deep breath.
"Talk to me about the Beacons first. Then I'll tell you."
Ianto shook his head. "You won't. You'll depend on me being too distraught to remember that you're supposed to go next. Tell me, Jack. Tell me now."
~*~*~*~
The Captain is aware it is a dream from the moment it begins. He knows it's not a good dream, either. Even if Ianto's there. All around them is black, the only light coming from what seems to be a spotlight above them. Ianto is bleeding. He's in pain. He's shot. So's Jack - but Jack is worse for wear. "You'd better be here when I get back!" he says gruffly. Ianto nods, tears welling up in his eyes and blood pouring from his side.
The spotlight above hurts his eyes at first, but he soon remembers himself. Ianto is still there. But only just. He's holding on for his Captain. Jack sits cross-legged, Ianto lying across him, his breath catching and blood escaping his mouth. He's still in pain, still bleeding - blood is pooled on the floor all around them. Jack's pen is in his hand, and the Captain gives it a questioning look.
Ianto can hardly speak, but he manages to indicate Jack's chest. He's ripped open the overshirt and t-shirt and written messages on the skin below in case he couldn't hold on long enough. There were Archive codes, passwords, protocols and phone numbers. Everything Ianto could remember that Jack didn't. There was even the location of the special coffee blend. Ianto was trying to speak. "Th ... thh ... it ... it ran out." he manages to whisper. His eyes indicate the pen in his hand. He's hardly strong enough to hold it anymore.
"What else is there?" Jack asks, choking back sobs. "Don't die ... please don't die ... not yet ... not yet ... it's too soon ..."
Ianto's breathing shallows and slows as he tries to draw breath and the pen rolls across the floor. He dies.
Jack stares at him, but blue eyes can't see. Hot blood surrounds them, soaking into their clothes and staining their skin. The Captain lets his eyes flicker back down to his chest - Ianto's final service to Torchwood - but sees nothing of importance to him. Just numbers and letters. Nothing personal. Nothing like what he'd hoped Ianto's last words would be ... and then Jack sees it. His eyes flickered to the pen that had rolled from Ianto's hand, now coated in blood and lying still. It had ran out. At the last moment, it had ran out.
Ianto had had to improvise in his desperation. Coating his fingers in his own ever-growing pool of blood, he had written his final message to Jack. The letters were messy and mangled, and part of the final word was being consumed by the red spreading on the floor. It said: "I Love You".
Jack's heart broke again. He repeated the words over and over, whispering them into dead ears:
"I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you."
... until the spotlight goes out and the blackness presses in. Jack awakes covered in cold sweat that, until he turns on the light, he will be convinced is blood.
~*~*~*~
Ianto didn't speak the whole time Jack had been talking. They had somehow swapped positions, with Jack's head on his chest and him stroking his hair. He'd opened a few of his shirt buttons, too, letting Jack closer to his skin and feeling for his heartbeat. Hot tears fell down the Captain's cheeks, and though Ianto could feel them he said nothing. He kissed his hair, and waited for them to stop.
When he was ready, Ianto began to talk about everything he had remembered. He spoke of cellers, fridges filled with body parts and hundreds of pairs of shoes. There had been a pile of clothing and chains hanging from the ceiling. A woman who had told him she was a nurse had taken them to that kitchen. Bodies on meathooks, organs in jars and a kid on the floor, bound and gagged.
Ianto was frightened, but Toshiko was there too. He had to look after Toshiko. Smiling at Evan, he'd drawn back his head and smashed their foreheads together. Tosh had got away ... but then there was only pain. Cold handcuffs, and the butt of a shotgun.
He came to as they were beating him - he wasn't sure how many there were. He could taste a bloody rag in his mouth, what he managed to assume was a gag, and there was hemp covering his face and head. One of the men had a baseball bat; the others had heavy boots and strong legs. He could hear the other boy crying, but he hadn't cared. He just wanted the blackness to come back, and one kick to the head ensured it did.
Jack listened as Ianto remembered being on his knees in front of Evan with the meat cleaver at his throat. "Time to be bled," he'd told him, pressing the blade against the soft skin, letting Ianto feel a little blood trickle. Then it all stopped. It all stopped ... and there was Jack. Just in time, blundering in on that massive tractor and firing off a shotgun and pistol and shouting and shouting.
"I've got a headache." Ianto groaned eventually.
"That's just your head sorting itself out." Jack told him. Gwen had come back a little while ago and had wisely decided not to disturb them, but a Weevil had been sighted off Hope Street and they really needed to contain it. "You have a rest. Sleep. I'll take Gwen to bring in the Weevil."
Ianto yawned and snuggled into the pillows, and was fast asleep by the time Jack was tucking him in and taking off his tie, just in case. Jack lingered a moment, stroking his hair. He leant in close to Ianto's ear.
"I ... I ... Lo ... you're more important than anything." he whispered. Ianto seemed to understand, his sleeping face smiling a little as he fell deeper into unconciousness.
FIN
This one is dedicated to goddess_ophelia, and I meant to say at the end of my previous chapter (and the chapter before that) that Janet in a dress was for griza.
Sorry it took so long to post (well, long for me). I took my laptop to me mam's on the train with me and some of the liquid crystals in the screen decided to burst. I've also left my charger at home, so got part way through typing it and everything went black. I've had to start again on the my mam's PC (which has like ... Windows 1998 BC on it) which doesn't even have Word. MEH.
Anyways ... it's my sister's birthday today, and I got her a Vortex Manipulator ... *ahem* I definitely only bought it her because she wanted it, not me ...
She's at school at the moment, so I get to play with it!! WOO!
Worship me, mortals: I'm a Time Agent!!!
Next Part | Previous Part | Torchwood Index | Request a Convo/Prose Fic