Ficlet: Honoured Guests
Title: Honoured Guests
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Jack, Ianto, mentions the Doctor.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Nada. Set in my Ghost of a Chance ‘verse.
Summary: Jack and Ianto are following the Doctor’s example by helping the helpless.
Word Count: 500
Written For: Prompt 486: Champion, at slashthedrabble.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters. They belong to the BBC.
The Doctor was the universe’s acknowledged champion of the vulnerable, the persecuted, and the downtrodden. He swept through time and space like an avenging angel, fixing all the major issues that threatened to upset timelines and unravel all that was or would be. That was serious stuff, and somebody needed to do it, but he was just one man, albeit with a space ship that was also a time machine, and even with the best will in the universe, he couldn’t be everywhere and everywhen at once.
The way Jack saw it, that was where he and Ianto came in. They couldn’t read the timelines the way the Doctor could, and their time travel capabilities were minimal, but for the moment that was okay; they were, in a way, the Doctor’s apprentices, happy to leave the big stuff to the one best equipped to deal with it, while they handled the smaller stuff. In a couple of thousand years, time travel technology would be more readily available and then perhaps they’d be able to help the Doctor with some of the bigger problems. For now though, they were happy to go their own way as independent traders and freelance trouble-shooters, taking down space pirates, flying rescue missions, delivering vital supplies to beleaguered colonies, and helping out in the aftermath of natural disasters.
After only forty years, they were already gaining a reputation as heroes, and indeed champions, in their own right, standing up for the ordinary folk and asking nothing in return, although the grateful people they helped often showered them with gifts, accolades, and in several instances, even medals. They’d been granted the metaphorical keys to seventeen cities and nine planets, and there had already been several statues built in their honour.
It was humbling, and definitely not why they were lending their services; Ianto just wanted to help those who needed it, while Jack was doing his best to follow the Doctor’s example, in the hopes that the Time Lord who’d become his mentor so long ago might some day be proud of him. He still felt the inexplicable need to somehow make up for accidentally becoming immortal, even though it hadn’t been his fault, and now that he’d compounded his ‘crime against the natural order of things’ by managing to infect Ianto with his immortality he felt doubly driven to make amends. If the Doctor had been put out about the existence of one immortal, how was he going to feel about two when he found out?
That was a concern for the future, however; right now there was a feast in their honour to attend, the natives’ way of thanking them for dealing with the slavers that had been preying on their peaceful world, and for bringing their most recently abducted loved ones home to them. The celebrations were set to last for days.
As nice as the festivities would be, their real reward had been in witnessing the joyful reunions. Few things made them happier.
The End
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Jack, Ianto, mentions the Doctor.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Nada. Set in my Ghost of a Chance ‘verse.
Summary: Jack and Ianto are following the Doctor’s example by helping the helpless.
Word Count: 500
Written For: Prompt 486: Champion, at slashthedrabble.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters. They belong to the BBC.
The Doctor was the universe’s acknowledged champion of the vulnerable, the persecuted, and the downtrodden. He swept through time and space like an avenging angel, fixing all the major issues that threatened to upset timelines and unravel all that was or would be. That was serious stuff, and somebody needed to do it, but he was just one man, albeit with a space ship that was also a time machine, and even with the best will in the universe, he couldn’t be everywhere and everywhen at once.
The way Jack saw it, that was where he and Ianto came in. They couldn’t read the timelines the way the Doctor could, and their time travel capabilities were minimal, but for the moment that was okay; they were, in a way, the Doctor’s apprentices, happy to leave the big stuff to the one best equipped to deal with it, while they handled the smaller stuff. In a couple of thousand years, time travel technology would be more readily available and then perhaps they’d be able to help the Doctor with some of the bigger problems. For now though, they were happy to go their own way as independent traders and freelance trouble-shooters, taking down space pirates, flying rescue missions, delivering vital supplies to beleaguered colonies, and helping out in the aftermath of natural disasters.
After only forty years, they were already gaining a reputation as heroes, and indeed champions, in their own right, standing up for the ordinary folk and asking nothing in return, although the grateful people they helped often showered them with gifts, accolades, and in several instances, even medals. They’d been granted the metaphorical keys to seventeen cities and nine planets, and there had already been several statues built in their honour.
It was humbling, and definitely not why they were lending their services; Ianto just wanted to help those who needed it, while Jack was doing his best to follow the Doctor’s example, in the hopes that the Time Lord who’d become his mentor so long ago might some day be proud of him. He still felt the inexplicable need to somehow make up for accidentally becoming immortal, even though it hadn’t been his fault, and now that he’d compounded his ‘crime against the natural order of things’ by managing to infect Ianto with his immortality he felt doubly driven to make amends. If the Doctor had been put out about the existence of one immortal, how was he going to feel about two when he found out?
That was a concern for the future, however; right now there was a feast in their honour to attend, the natives’ way of thanking them for dealing with the slavers that had been preying on their peaceful world, and for bringing their most recently abducted loved ones home to them. The celebrations were set to last for days.
As nice as the festivities would be, their real reward had been in witnessing the joyful reunions. Few things made them happier.
The End