Fic: Interstellar Man Of Mystery
Title: Interstellar Man Of Mystery
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Jack, their TARDIS.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: It’s taken time and effort for Ianto to build the reputation he now has among some of the universe’s more colourful characters.
Word Count: 1088
Written For: Prompt 186 - Reputation at fandomweekly.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters. They belong to the BBC.
A/N: Set in my ‘Through Time and Space’ ‘Verse.
Ever since beginning his search for Jack, Ianto had been working hard to build himself a solid reputation. That was especially true since he’d started mingling with the black-marketeers in the rundown areas of space stations and the shanty towns that inevitably formed on the borders of spaceports. Reputation was even more important in places like that than in the more civilised locales. The pirates, assassins, smugglers, fences, forgers, and other assorted rogues who plied their trade in the shadows were a suspicious bunch, and rightly so. Anyone they didn’t know, at least by reputation, might turn out to belong to one law enforcement agency or another. It paid to be cautious. Trust wasn’t easy to come by; it had to be earned.
With the help of his TARDIS, who had planted certain information in various databases, Ianto had established himself as Des Llewellyn, freelance bodyguard, and occasional smuggler with a penchant for collecting items of earth origin. It was an eccentricity that added verisimilitude to the tales about his escapades that were soon being spread.
He didn’t rely solely on the rumours and made-up tales, however. He took employment as a bodyguard for several notable criminals, watching their backs during ‘business transactions’ and ensuring that all parties behaved honourably, honour among thieves being highly valued. His impartiality quickly became the stuff of legends; anyone who failed to abide by the rules he set down, even his own clients, would find themselves presented naked and disarmed before one of the sector’s criminal overlords to face judgement for their transgressions.
He only had to do that twice before the word was out that you didn’t want to mess with Des; he kept his word only so long as his clients kept theirs, and if he was present, everyone behaved. It was more than their lives and reputations were worth not to.
By the time he’d played bodyguard a half-dozen times, and done a spot of smuggling, which had mostly involved transporting stolen goods such as food and medicines to settlements in need of them, his reputation was set in stone. He’d even made friends among the various criminal elements, drinking and gambling with them, swapping stories of daring deeds, all the while trying to track down a certain man, whose picture he showed wherever he went.
When he wasn’t being Des, picking up paying work here and there, and carousing with his fellow lowlifes, Ianto gained another reputation entirely among the more law-abiding folks for being a shrewd businessman, buying and selling various commodities, and invariably turning a healthy profit. It all helped him in learning his way around the various strata of society on half a hundred worlds, and at least as many space stations. There was so much he didn’t know, but he sought ways to fit in wherever he went, gradually gaining confidence in his new existence as an interstellar traveller, trader, and occasional criminal.
By the time he finally caught up with Jack, rescuing him and his travelling companion from their disabled spaceship, he no longer felt out of place. The universe was his home, and he belonged there as much as anyone who’d been born among the planets of the Galactic Federation.
Jack was, perhaps, a little disappointed that he didn’t get to introduce Ianto to the wider universe, and to all the wonders of life out among the stars, but he was also impressed with how well Ianto had grown into his new life.
“I didn’t want to be a burden to you when we finally found each other again,” Ianto explained. “I needed to find my own way, learn to take care of myself.”
“And you have, better than even I could’ve taught you. I’m proud of you.”
Ianto blushed. “I didn’t do it all by myself, I’ve had considerable help.” He felt the warm presence of his TARDIS in the back of his mind.
“I don’t doubt it, but you’re the one who’s been out there handling everything that’s been thrown at you, including some very dangerous situations, and you’ve done amazingly well. That little insurrection you staged on the space station, for instance. News of that has spread all the way to the galactic centre. Everyone was talking about it a few months back, and now I find out that was your work.”
“It was one of our more notable accomplishments,” Ianto agreed modestly.
“I kinda wish I’d been there, but from the sound of it, I would’ve only been in the way. You didn’t need me.”
“Perhaps not, but there were plenty of times I wished you could be with me, sharing my adventures.”
“And now I am. So, what’s next?” Jack’s smile was as blindingly white as ever, and Ianto couldn’t keep from grinning back.
“I have no idea; we can go anywhere we want. I would like to check in with some of my underworld acquaintances though. They keep their ears to the ground, and to keyholes, air vents, open windows, and cracks in walls, so they know more about what’s really going on than the official news services do. They’re the best people to ask if we want to find out about anything interesting that might be happening. That’s why I wanted to stop here.”
They were on Pellevreaux, a space station Ianto had visited before; their TARDIS had found herself an out of the way corner, disguising herself as an unremarkable door set into a rusty metal wall. Pellevreaux wasn’t exactly upmarket, even in its better areas.
“Great! Let’s go!” Jack headed towards the door, but Ianto stopped him.
“Don’t be daft; someone will see you! Look at yourself!” Ianto gestured at Jack in his trademark vintage RAF greatcoat. “You’ll stick out like the proverbial sore thumb dressed like that.”
“I thought you liked the way I dress.” Jack pouted.
“I do, but you of all people should know the importance of blending in.”
Jack looked at Ianto’s smart three-piece suit. “You’re not exactly inconspicuous either.”
“I will be once I change into Des Llewellyn’s usual attire. If you want to come with me, I suggest you put on grubby overalls and an old jacket, mess up your hair, and smudge some dirt on your face, neck, and hands. Anyone too clean raises their suspicions.”
“And you’ll be doing the same?”
“Of course.”
“You used to be so fastidious.”
“I still am, but needs must. It’s always best to fit in with the local dress code. After all, I do have several reputations to maintain.”
The End
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Jack, their TARDIS.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: It’s taken time and effort for Ianto to build the reputation he now has among some of the universe’s more colourful characters.
Word Count: 1088
Written For: Prompt 186 - Reputation at fandomweekly.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters. They belong to the BBC.
A/N: Set in my ‘Through Time and Space’ ‘Verse.
Ever since beginning his search for Jack, Ianto had been working hard to build himself a solid reputation. That was especially true since he’d started mingling with the black-marketeers in the rundown areas of space stations and the shanty towns that inevitably formed on the borders of spaceports. Reputation was even more important in places like that than in the more civilised locales. The pirates, assassins, smugglers, fences, forgers, and other assorted rogues who plied their trade in the shadows were a suspicious bunch, and rightly so. Anyone they didn’t know, at least by reputation, might turn out to belong to one law enforcement agency or another. It paid to be cautious. Trust wasn’t easy to come by; it had to be earned.
With the help of his TARDIS, who had planted certain information in various databases, Ianto had established himself as Des Llewellyn, freelance bodyguard, and occasional smuggler with a penchant for collecting items of earth origin. It was an eccentricity that added verisimilitude to the tales about his escapades that were soon being spread.
He didn’t rely solely on the rumours and made-up tales, however. He took employment as a bodyguard for several notable criminals, watching their backs during ‘business transactions’ and ensuring that all parties behaved honourably, honour among thieves being highly valued. His impartiality quickly became the stuff of legends; anyone who failed to abide by the rules he set down, even his own clients, would find themselves presented naked and disarmed before one of the sector’s criminal overlords to face judgement for their transgressions.
He only had to do that twice before the word was out that you didn’t want to mess with Des; he kept his word only so long as his clients kept theirs, and if he was present, everyone behaved. It was more than their lives and reputations were worth not to.
By the time he’d played bodyguard a half-dozen times, and done a spot of smuggling, which had mostly involved transporting stolen goods such as food and medicines to settlements in need of them, his reputation was set in stone. He’d even made friends among the various criminal elements, drinking and gambling with them, swapping stories of daring deeds, all the while trying to track down a certain man, whose picture he showed wherever he went.
When he wasn’t being Des, picking up paying work here and there, and carousing with his fellow lowlifes, Ianto gained another reputation entirely among the more law-abiding folks for being a shrewd businessman, buying and selling various commodities, and invariably turning a healthy profit. It all helped him in learning his way around the various strata of society on half a hundred worlds, and at least as many space stations. There was so much he didn’t know, but he sought ways to fit in wherever he went, gradually gaining confidence in his new existence as an interstellar traveller, trader, and occasional criminal.
By the time he finally caught up with Jack, rescuing him and his travelling companion from their disabled spaceship, he no longer felt out of place. The universe was his home, and he belonged there as much as anyone who’d been born among the planets of the Galactic Federation.
Jack was, perhaps, a little disappointed that he didn’t get to introduce Ianto to the wider universe, and to all the wonders of life out among the stars, but he was also impressed with how well Ianto had grown into his new life.
“I didn’t want to be a burden to you when we finally found each other again,” Ianto explained. “I needed to find my own way, learn to take care of myself.”
“And you have, better than even I could’ve taught you. I’m proud of you.”
Ianto blushed. “I didn’t do it all by myself, I’ve had considerable help.” He felt the warm presence of his TARDIS in the back of his mind.
“I don’t doubt it, but you’re the one who’s been out there handling everything that’s been thrown at you, including some very dangerous situations, and you’ve done amazingly well. That little insurrection you staged on the space station, for instance. News of that has spread all the way to the galactic centre. Everyone was talking about it a few months back, and now I find out that was your work.”
“It was one of our more notable accomplishments,” Ianto agreed modestly.
“I kinda wish I’d been there, but from the sound of it, I would’ve only been in the way. You didn’t need me.”
“Perhaps not, but there were plenty of times I wished you could be with me, sharing my adventures.”
“And now I am. So, what’s next?” Jack’s smile was as blindingly white as ever, and Ianto couldn’t keep from grinning back.
“I have no idea; we can go anywhere we want. I would like to check in with some of my underworld acquaintances though. They keep their ears to the ground, and to keyholes, air vents, open windows, and cracks in walls, so they know more about what’s really going on than the official news services do. They’re the best people to ask if we want to find out about anything interesting that might be happening. That’s why I wanted to stop here.”
They were on Pellevreaux, a space station Ianto had visited before; their TARDIS had found herself an out of the way corner, disguising herself as an unremarkable door set into a rusty metal wall. Pellevreaux wasn’t exactly upmarket, even in its better areas.
“Great! Let’s go!” Jack headed towards the door, but Ianto stopped him.
“Don’t be daft; someone will see you! Look at yourself!” Ianto gestured at Jack in his trademark vintage RAF greatcoat. “You’ll stick out like the proverbial sore thumb dressed like that.”
“I thought you liked the way I dress.” Jack pouted.
“I do, but you of all people should know the importance of blending in.”
Jack looked at Ianto’s smart three-piece suit. “You’re not exactly inconspicuous either.”
“I will be once I change into Des Llewellyn’s usual attire. If you want to come with me, I suggest you put on grubby overalls and an old jacket, mess up your hair, and smudge some dirt on your face, neck, and hands. Anyone too clean raises their suspicions.”
“And you’ll be doing the same?”
“Of course.”
“You used to be so fastidious.”
“I still am, but needs must. It’s always best to fit in with the local dress code. After all, I do have several reputations to maintain.”
The End