Fic: Tireless
Title: Tireless
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Jack, Ianto, Janet the Weevil.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Nada
Warnings: None needed.
Summary: Ianto Jones does the work of several people around the Hub. How does he manage it all?
Word Count: 810
Written For: My
genprompt_bingo square Indefatigable.
Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood or the characters, they belong to the BBC.
Up at six every day to feed the residents and fix Jack’s first coffee of the day, Ianto worked tirelessly from early morning to late at night, day after day and week after week, seldom getting a day off.
He provided regular meals for the team and kept them suitably caffeinated, he fed, watered, and cleaned up after the Hub’s alien guests and pets, he picked up after his often slovenly colleagues, and carried out all essential maintenance and repairs within Torchwood’s secret base.
At least once a week, he cleaned the SUV inside and out, making it gleam. He re-stocked field kits, ordered supplies, dealt with requisitions, and did all the filing of reports. As new objects arrived through the Rift he catalogued them and put them in their assigned places in the vast underground archives, which he’d spent well over a year sorting out and putting in order.
On top of all that, the singularly unenviable job of clean-up also fell to him; it was his job to get rid of bodies and make sure there was no alien blood, flesh, fur, feathers, scales, or slime left behind to be found by the authorities. Keeping Torchwood’s work secret was a complicated business that involved a whole lot more than just Retconning witnesses, and not telling the police and the public anything they were better off not knowing.
Then there was the tourist office, which had to be manned for a certain number of hours each week in order to help maintain Torchwood’s cover, because surprisingly enough, stray tourists did sometimes chance to stumble across the small kiosk. Ianto was quite popular with the locals too.
All of that would have been a big enough workload for any four people, but Ianto’s duties didn’t end there because nowadays he had to fit in all his other tasks around regular assignments in the field. Rift retrievals, Weevil hunting, fighting aliens bent on taking over the world… The list was never-ending.
When he thought about it, Jack really had no idea where Ianto found the energy, never mind the time. He really was amazing.
“I’m very well organised,” Ianto explained when Jack asked him. “I have a schedule, which I stick to as much as possible, and I delegate certain tasks. Janet’s quite handy with a mop and enjoys cleaning the cells.” Jack wasn’t sure whether or not Ianto was joking about that, but he let it slide. Some things he was probably better off not knowing.
However Ianto did it, everything always seemed to get done, calmly and to perfection; young Mister Jones was nothing if not efficient. Whatever his system was, it clearly worked for him, so Jack chose not to interfere and just let Torchwood’s General Support Officer get on with it.
Then things got really busy. The whole team was run off their feet dealing with multiple Rift alerts, three invasion attempts in quick succession, lost alien tourists, a horde of exploding gremlins, and a creature that ate the tyres off sixteen vehicles, including the SUV, before it could be sent back where it had come from.
Throughout it all, Ianto kept everything running smoothly, made sure the others ate, drank, and slept at regular intervals, and provided everything they needed without them ever having to ask. He even found the time to get new tyres fitted on all the affected cars.
Back at the Hub when things finally quietened down, Jack went in search of Ianto, finally tracking him to the cells. There he lay on a stone bench, covered with a couple of tattered blankets, and fast asleep. The indefatigable Ianto Jones had worn himself out.
Jack looked at Janet, who was busying herself with cleaning out the occupied cells. She glanced at him briefly and carried on mopping, occasionally checking on Ianto, and adjusting his covers to make sure he wouldn’t get cold.
“I think it’s about time I got an assistant for Ianto,” Jack said to himself with a quiet sigh. Leaning against the wall, he watched his lover sleep.
Janet grunted, nodded agreement, and moved her hands in a series of gestures, making Jack frown.
“What d’you mean it’s about time? And since when do you know sign language anyway?”
‘Ianto showed me,’ Janet signed. ‘Ianto my friend, teach many things. Very smart.’
“Yes, he is. Irreplaceable too. Does he always take a nap while you clean?”
‘Most times.’
“You’re doing a great job, by the way.”
‘Thank you.’
Jack discovered that a grinning Weevil was a rather disturbing sight, but wisely chose not to say that to Janet.
“Well, carry on. I’ll be up in my office looking into possible candidates for the position of Ianto’s assistant.” Hands in pockets, Jack mooched out of the cells towards the stairs leading to the main Hub. He had a lot to think about.
The End
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Jack, Ianto, Janet the Weevil.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Nada
Warnings: None needed.
Summary: Ianto Jones does the work of several people around the Hub. How does he manage it all?
Word Count: 810
Written For: My
genprompt_bingo square Indefatigable.
Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood or the characters, they belong to the BBC.
Up at six every day to feed the residents and fix Jack’s first coffee of the day, Ianto worked tirelessly from early morning to late at night, day after day and week after week, seldom getting a day off.
He provided regular meals for the team and kept them suitably caffeinated, he fed, watered, and cleaned up after the Hub’s alien guests and pets, he picked up after his often slovenly colleagues, and carried out all essential maintenance and repairs within Torchwood’s secret base.
At least once a week, he cleaned the SUV inside and out, making it gleam. He re-stocked field kits, ordered supplies, dealt with requisitions, and did all the filing of reports. As new objects arrived through the Rift he catalogued them and put them in their assigned places in the vast underground archives, which he’d spent well over a year sorting out and putting in order.
On top of all that, the singularly unenviable job of clean-up also fell to him; it was his job to get rid of bodies and make sure there was no alien blood, flesh, fur, feathers, scales, or slime left behind to be found by the authorities. Keeping Torchwood’s work secret was a complicated business that involved a whole lot more than just Retconning witnesses, and not telling the police and the public anything they were better off not knowing.
Then there was the tourist office, which had to be manned for a certain number of hours each week in order to help maintain Torchwood’s cover, because surprisingly enough, stray tourists did sometimes chance to stumble across the small kiosk. Ianto was quite popular with the locals too.
All of that would have been a big enough workload for any four people, but Ianto’s duties didn’t end there because nowadays he had to fit in all his other tasks around regular assignments in the field. Rift retrievals, Weevil hunting, fighting aliens bent on taking over the world… The list was never-ending.
When he thought about it, Jack really had no idea where Ianto found the energy, never mind the time. He really was amazing.
“I’m very well organised,” Ianto explained when Jack asked him. “I have a schedule, which I stick to as much as possible, and I delegate certain tasks. Janet’s quite handy with a mop and enjoys cleaning the cells.” Jack wasn’t sure whether or not Ianto was joking about that, but he let it slide. Some things he was probably better off not knowing.
However Ianto did it, everything always seemed to get done, calmly and to perfection; young Mister Jones was nothing if not efficient. Whatever his system was, it clearly worked for him, so Jack chose not to interfere and just let Torchwood’s General Support Officer get on with it.
Then things got really busy. The whole team was run off their feet dealing with multiple Rift alerts, three invasion attempts in quick succession, lost alien tourists, a horde of exploding gremlins, and a creature that ate the tyres off sixteen vehicles, including the SUV, before it could be sent back where it had come from.
Throughout it all, Ianto kept everything running smoothly, made sure the others ate, drank, and slept at regular intervals, and provided everything they needed without them ever having to ask. He even found the time to get new tyres fitted on all the affected cars.
Back at the Hub when things finally quietened down, Jack went in search of Ianto, finally tracking him to the cells. There he lay on a stone bench, covered with a couple of tattered blankets, and fast asleep. The indefatigable Ianto Jones had worn himself out.
Jack looked at Janet, who was busying herself with cleaning out the occupied cells. She glanced at him briefly and carried on mopping, occasionally checking on Ianto, and adjusting his covers to make sure he wouldn’t get cold.
“I think it’s about time I got an assistant for Ianto,” Jack said to himself with a quiet sigh. Leaning against the wall, he watched his lover sleep.
Janet grunted, nodded agreement, and moved her hands in a series of gestures, making Jack frown.
“What d’you mean it’s about time? And since when do you know sign language anyway?”
‘Ianto showed me,’ Janet signed. ‘Ianto my friend, teach many things. Very smart.’
“Yes, he is. Irreplaceable too. Does he always take a nap while you clean?”
‘Most times.’
“You’re doing a great job, by the way.”
‘Thank you.’
Jack discovered that a grinning Weevil was a rather disturbing sight, but wisely chose not to say that to Janet.
“Well, carry on. I’ll be up in my office looking into possible candidates for the position of Ianto’s assistant.” Hands in pockets, Jack mooched out of the cells towards the stairs leading to the main Hub. He had a lot to think about.
The End