FIC: Everyone Deserves the Chance to Fly (1/?)
Name: Everyone Deserves the Chance to Fly
Rating: R
Pairings/Characters: Jack/Ianto, Spike/Buffy, Willow/Tosh, Xander/Anya, Martha, Owen, Faith, Angel, The Doctor, Mickey, PC Andy, Libby(OC) and other OCs who I can’t name without spoilers for the fic! And one other pairing that will probably make you lot want to lynch me.
Summary: Latest story in the Magic and Mayhem series. Two months after the mysterious disappearances of Willow, Xander and Martha and the death of a member of the team, the gang are still reeling when someone unexpected appears from the TARDIS and darkness descends on the team when they find out about their friend...
Spoilers: Oh, everything from Torchwood and Doctor Who and the first six seasons of Buffy. Just ... everything, alright?
Chapter: One: Two and a Half Months Later
Master List Can be Found Here.
Beta/Punching Bag/Ass-Kicker: skullgirl013
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, Doctor Who or Buffy or Angel or anything like that. So, yeah, just ... not mine. But I do own Libby! And I kinda own this completely cracked storyline that’s developing a life of its own and I’m becoming way too attached to.
Author’s Note: I apologise if this starts off a bit Buffy-centric. It’s necessary, I think. It’ll become more Janto-y in later chapters. Tosh (and Willow by association) also have a big part in this fic. But bear with me because this is the darkest most angsty thing I’ve ever written. And if you like certain pairings (Xander/Anya, Spike/Buffy, Willow/Tosh) you’ll be yelling “FIX IT!” within a few chapters. Forgive me, it won’t be fixed that soon. And some won’t be fixed at all... [Jen - She’s not kidding ya know!]
So here we are guys. Everyone Deserves the Chance to Fly chapter 1. I haven't decided, yet, whether I'm going to post daily or every two days. It depends on how I feel. The chapters started off longish ... now they're shrinking, merely for dramatic effect. There's also a substantial lot of Libby in this story. I can't help it. She writes herself. It's like she sits on my shoulder and dictates (or maybe that's Abby...). I hope you lot like her as much as I do, coz she's here to stay (until her untimely death if I get sick of her, ofc.)
A little warning before we begin: this story is dark. I mean no candles dark. Bomb shelter dark. I'm scaring myself writing it. Kk? I freaked my beta out telling her what *I* think happened.
Anyway, on with the show .......
Chapter 1
Two and a Half Months Later
Thursday December 11th 2008
14:57
It was cold and there was snow and ice on the ground beneath their feet as three people jumped out of the SUV, running towards the house ahead of them.
They kicked open the door and burst inside, finding a redheaded woman lying, dead, on the floor, magic herbs and items scattered around the room.
Heart pounding in her chest, the female member of the group moved forward, her long pink coat billowing. She brushed the hair from the redhead’s face, her eyes closed as though she didn’t want to see. She took a deep breath and let her eyes open.
The air left her lungs rapidly when she saw that the witch wasn’t who she was expecting. She turned to the others, shaking her head slightly.
19:07
She’d been allowed an early night anticipating an early morning into work, but she wasn’t sleeping. No, Buffy Summers was lying awake in bed, her back turned to Spike who was oversleeping, long blonde hair splayed out across the pillow beneath her head, eyes staring, blankly, at nothing.
She hadn’t slept properly again for two and a half months and she didn’t see herself getting a good night’s sleep any time soon.
Beep!
She reached under the bed, falling off and landing on the floor with a thump. She didn’t even notice the pain in her legs from the impact as she reached for her bag and pulled out her phone, flipping it open an holding it to her ear as she scrambled back onto the bed and sat on the edge.
“Jack? Have you found her?”
“No,” Jack replied, sadly. “We’re still looking, Buffy.”
“And him?”
“No, I’m sorry, I don't think we’re going to find Xander until he wants to be found.”
“What if he’s hurting? What if he’s lying in a gutter somewhere begging for death because he can’t handle losing her? Jack, I’ve been there. It hurts so much...” Spike sat up next to her and put his arms around her shoulder, pressing his cool lips into the back of her neck for comfort. “Jack, I can’t lose all three of them.”
“You won’t have to. I promise. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You looked more distraught than Tosh when you left the hub.”
“I’m fine, but I’ll be even better when we find them.”
“I’ve sent Libby out on the case but, Buffy, you have to accept that ...”
She pulled the phone from her ear and hung up. She wasn’t ready to accept anything.
19:10
Jack looked at the phone and sighed. “She hung up?” Ianto enquired, gently.
“Yeah,” Jack replied. “This is killing her.”
“I know. I can tell. It’s killing Tosh, too.” Ianto looked out of Jack’s office, leaning against the doorframe, and watched the young Japanese woman working. Her hair hadn’t been cut for two months, her fringe hanging down in front of her eyes and her hair as a whole down below her armpits. There were black rings below her eyes and her nails were short from biting them. Her lips had bits chewed out of them where she’d been biting them too and there was a slight trickle of blood at the side of her mouth from the latest bite.
Ianto turned away again and looked at Jack. “We have to find her.”
“What if she’s dead? Or the rift took her?”
“Jonah came back from it,” Ianto pointed out.
“And look what that did to him.” Jack stood up and walked across, joining Ianto in the doorway. The two men turned and looked across the hub. “It’s so quiet,” he said.
“No Anya, no Xander, no Willow and no Martha,” Ianto rattled off. “They brought life to this place. Without them ... no one wants to be cheerful ... there’s no laughter anymore.”
Jack sighed. “Do you miss the days when it was just the five of us?”
Ianto looked across at Faith sat in the corner talking to Owen and Angel, the three of them looking almost like a family. Their family, just like Buffy and Spike and Tosh and Willow, if she ever returned, and the rest of them. “Never,” he whispered.
19:15
She had the feeling that Ianto had struck a bargain with Jack: He would allow Jack to employ her on the condition that she did paperwork and the ‘safe’ assignments.
Libby snorted. It wasn’t fair.
She tucked her dark hair behind her ear and pulled her gun out of the back of her trousers as she kicked open the front door of the house she was investigating.
“Don't you ever try the door handle?” Mickey enquired.
“Where’s the fun in that?” she retorted, holding her gun in front of her as she approached the living room. There, lying on the floor in the middle of it, was another dead witch. This one was blonde, wearing black leather and holding a packet of herbs.
Judging by the smell, she’d been there a while. Mickey gagged from next to Libby and she sent him a sympathetic look as she touched her earpiece. “Tosh?” she said, cautiously.
“I’m here,” Tosh replied. Her voice sounded weak, as though she was struggling to even talk.
“It’s not her,” Libby told her, gently. “This witch is blonde in her late twenties or early thirties. I’m going to try and find some I.D..” She switched her earpiece off and looked at Mickey, who still had his gloved hand over his mouth, trying not to throw up. “Go outside,” she said. “I’ll find some I.D. and deal with this. I’ll be out in a minute.”
Mickey nodded and ran away.
Libby bent over the corpse and searched the pockets, restraining her own gag reflex as she looked. She found a wallet in the witch’s back pocket and pulled it out, flipping it open and touching her earpiece. “Apparently her name is Ada Springs. She works at the sports centre down the road. She’s thirty-seven years old.” She looked again at her face. “Looking good on it, too,” she commented.
“Probably uses an anti-aging charm,” Tosh commented, dully. “Continue.”
“She lives at twenty-seven palm close.” Libby did a double-take of the I.D. “Okay, now that’s strange.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s a mile from here,” she replied. “This isn’t her home.” She stood up and looked around. “It looks like her home, but it isn’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“There are pictures of her scattered around, magical herbs and other items, there’s even a discarded jumper which matches the scarf she’s wearing,” Libby said. “But she doesn’t live here.”
“Maybe she was staying with a friend?” Tosh asked.
“No,” Libby said, pondering the fact. “I’ve stayed with friends. I don't leave my things scattered when they make a mess like this. And I don't take my jumper off before my scarf.”
“What do you think has happened?” Tosh sounded interested now.
“I don't know.” Libby walked across to the mantelpiece and picked up a photo of Ada stood next to a good looking man in his thirties. “It just seems wrong somehow.”
She was about to look around some more when Mickey yelled, “Libby!” A pause. “Elizabeth!” he screamed.
She put the I.D. and photograph in her pocket, cocked her gun and ran from the room, emerging onto the street beyond and holding her gun up to the cop stood there. She looked at Mickey. “What’s going on?” she asked.
The cop rolled his eyes. “You can put your gun down, miss,” he said. “I’m not armed nor am I going to hurt you.” He had his hands up. She lowered his gun and he ran his eyes over her face. “Hey, don't I know you?”
Libby tilted her head. “You’re PC Andy Davidson, right? We met when Kyle ...” She broke off and swallowed. “We met when PC Button towed the SUV.”
Andy nodded. “Damn sad about him,” he said, regret colouring his tone. “Now, what are you doing here? And who’s the screamer?” He jerked a thumb at Mickey. “And since when do you have a gun?”
Libby looked at Mickey. “Why did you scream?”
Mickey shrugged. “You have the gun not me and he was pointing something sharp at me!”
Andy held up his pen. “This?” he asked, with a smirk.
Mickey blushed. “I’ll be in the SUV,” he said, quickly, running off.
She turned to Andy, putting her gun away. “What are you doing here, then?” she asked.
“I was called in because a woman up the road saw two kids breaking into this house. Since when do you do the breaking and entering? Kyle told me you didn’t work for Torchwood but you were studying to be a doctor in university.”
Libby laughed. “I joined Torchwood and put my education on hold,” she informed him. “We’re understaffed at the moment.”
“I thought you had that new team joining yours?” Andy enquired. “Gwen was telling me about them; the scoobies?”
Libby sighed. “It’s a long story.” She glanced inside the house then back at Andy. “Can you call in a murder?”
“You killed someone?”
“No! She was dead when I got here.” Libby stepped inside the house and Andy followed. She gestured at the body.
“One of your spooky dos is it?”
“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “I think so but ... well, it’s not my place to decide, is it? I just know there’s something fishy going on. I can feel it.”
Andy walked across and looked at the body. “What killed her?”
For the first time, Libby noticed there was nothing about her that showed what had killed her. “I don't know.” She walked to join Andy and crouched down as the smell hit him. He gagged.
“You’re tough,” he commented. “This is making me feel sick.”
“I’ll fall to pieces later,” she told him, quoting herself from months before. “Always do,” she added, too low for him to hear, as she checked the body for any identifiable reason for the woman to be dead. “I don't get it,” she muttered. “Poison maybe?”
“Are you going to bring her in or do you still want me to inform the police of the murder?” Andy asked.
Libby stood up straight again. “I don't know.” She touched her earpiece. “Tosh? Is Jack there?”
“I’ll get him,” Tosh replied.
A couple of seconds later, Jack’s American-accented voice said, “What’s going on?”
“This body, Jack, it’s weird,” Libby said. “I can’t see what killed her.”
“Is it Willow?”
“No.”
“Then it doesn’t matter; let the police deal with it, Libby. You’re just looking for trouble where there isn’t any. It’s not like we need any more trouble at the moment. Head back to base.” The line went dead.
She sighed and turned to Andy. “Call it in, yeah,” she said. “Do me a favour?”
“If I can.”
“Get the details mailed to me.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a pen and notebook, scribbling down her address on it. “I want to know everything about this woman and what killed her.”
Andy looked doubtful. “I’m not sure I’m allowed to do that...” he said.
“Tell them it was requested by Torchwood,” she insisted. “I’ll take the flack if Jack finds out.”
He took the scrap of paper. “Okay.” She headed towards the door. “Oy! Where are you going?”
“Back to hell,” she muttered, opening the door and stepping out.
19:21
Tosh leaned back in her seat and watched Jack as he walked back into his office. She thought he was being unreasonable; he hadn’t even given Libby chance to explain what she wanted and why she wanted it.
Then again, she wasn’t in the position to argue with him. She leant on her desk and rested her face in her palms, running her fingers through her stupidly long fringe and rubbing her eyes. She was tired, so, so tired. She just wanted to sleep but couldn’t.
“Go home,” Ianto whispered in her ear, his strong arms wrapping around her from behind for a brotherly hug. “You’re falling asleep over your keyboard.”
“I won’t sleep. I can’t,” she replied, leaning into the embrace and closing her eyes.
“Anything I can do to help?”
“I think your husband would be jealous.”
She felt Ianto smile. “I think my husband would understand,” he said, quietly.
“It’s okay. I’m fine,” she said.
“Go home. If you don't sleep, at least lie down and rest. Read if you have to.”
Tosh sighed. “Alright,” she said, relenting. “I’ll go home. And I’ll rest.” She stood up and pushed her chair in under her desk, turning to face him. “You going to tell me to get a haircut next?”
Ianto smiled and touched her long hair. “I think it suits you,” he said, gently. He leant in and kissed her on the forehead, softly. “Sleep. Come into work early tomorrow and we’ll search some more for Willow.” He touched her arm. “Want a lift?”
She shook her head. “I can still drive,” she promised. “See you tomorrow.” She smiled at him, the gesture not reaching her eyes, and grabbed her coat as she left the hub. Ianto sighed. She was dying inside and there was nothing he could do to help.
Next: Chapter 2
Rating: R
Pairings/Characters: Jack/Ianto, Spike/Buffy, Willow/Tosh, Xander/Anya, Martha, Owen, Faith, Angel, The Doctor, Mickey, PC Andy, Libby(OC) and other OCs who I can’t name without spoilers for the fic! And one other pairing that will probably make you lot want to lynch me.
Summary: Latest story in the Magic and Mayhem series. Two months after the mysterious disappearances of Willow, Xander and Martha and the death of a member of the team, the gang are still reeling when someone unexpected appears from the TARDIS and darkness descends on the team when they find out about their friend...
Spoilers: Oh, everything from Torchwood and Doctor Who and the first six seasons of Buffy. Just ... everything, alright?
Chapter: One: Two and a Half Months Later
Master List Can be Found Here.
Beta/Punching Bag/Ass-Kicker: skullgirl013
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, Doctor Who or Buffy or Angel or anything like that. So, yeah, just ... not mine. But I do own Libby! And I kinda own this completely cracked storyline that’s developing a life of its own and I’m becoming way too attached to.
Author’s Note: I apologise if this starts off a bit Buffy-centric. It’s necessary, I think. It’ll become more Janto-y in later chapters. Tosh (and Willow by association) also have a big part in this fic. But bear with me because this is the darkest most angsty thing I’ve ever written. And if you like certain pairings (Xander/Anya, Spike/Buffy, Willow/Tosh) you’ll be yelling “FIX IT!” within a few chapters. Forgive me, it won’t be fixed that soon. And some won’t be fixed at all... [Jen - She’s not kidding ya know!]
So here we are guys. Everyone Deserves the Chance to Fly chapter 1. I haven't decided, yet, whether I'm going to post daily or every two days. It depends on how I feel. The chapters started off longish ... now they're shrinking, merely for dramatic effect. There's also a substantial lot of Libby in this story. I can't help it. She writes herself. It's like she sits on my shoulder and dictates (or maybe that's Abby...). I hope you lot like her as much as I do, coz she's here to stay (until her untimely death if I get sick of her, ofc.)
A little warning before we begin: this story is dark. I mean no candles dark. Bomb shelter dark. I'm scaring myself writing it. Kk? I freaked my beta out telling her what *I* think happened.
Anyway, on with the show .......
Chapter 1
Two and a Half Months Later
Thursday December 11th 2008
14:57
It was cold and there was snow and ice on the ground beneath their feet as three people jumped out of the SUV, running towards the house ahead of them.
They kicked open the door and burst inside, finding a redheaded woman lying, dead, on the floor, magic herbs and items scattered around the room.
Heart pounding in her chest, the female member of the group moved forward, her long pink coat billowing. She brushed the hair from the redhead’s face, her eyes closed as though she didn’t want to see. She took a deep breath and let her eyes open.
The air left her lungs rapidly when she saw that the witch wasn’t who she was expecting. She turned to the others, shaking her head slightly.
19:07
She’d been allowed an early night anticipating an early morning into work, but she wasn’t sleeping. No, Buffy Summers was lying awake in bed, her back turned to Spike who was oversleeping, long blonde hair splayed out across the pillow beneath her head, eyes staring, blankly, at nothing.
She hadn’t slept properly again for two and a half months and she didn’t see herself getting a good night’s sleep any time soon.
Beep!
She reached under the bed, falling off and landing on the floor with a thump. She didn’t even notice the pain in her legs from the impact as she reached for her bag and pulled out her phone, flipping it open an holding it to her ear as she scrambled back onto the bed and sat on the edge.
“Jack? Have you found her?”
“No,” Jack replied, sadly. “We’re still looking, Buffy.”
“And him?”
“No, I’m sorry, I don't think we’re going to find Xander until he wants to be found.”
“What if he’s hurting? What if he’s lying in a gutter somewhere begging for death because he can’t handle losing her? Jack, I’ve been there. It hurts so much...” Spike sat up next to her and put his arms around her shoulder, pressing his cool lips into the back of her neck for comfort. “Jack, I can’t lose all three of them.”
“You won’t have to. I promise. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You looked more distraught than Tosh when you left the hub.”
“I’m fine, but I’ll be even better when we find them.”
“I’ve sent Libby out on the case but, Buffy, you have to accept that ...”
She pulled the phone from her ear and hung up. She wasn’t ready to accept anything.
19:10
Jack looked at the phone and sighed. “She hung up?” Ianto enquired, gently.
“Yeah,” Jack replied. “This is killing her.”
“I know. I can tell. It’s killing Tosh, too.” Ianto looked out of Jack’s office, leaning against the doorframe, and watched the young Japanese woman working. Her hair hadn’t been cut for two months, her fringe hanging down in front of her eyes and her hair as a whole down below her armpits. There were black rings below her eyes and her nails were short from biting them. Her lips had bits chewed out of them where she’d been biting them too and there was a slight trickle of blood at the side of her mouth from the latest bite.
Ianto turned away again and looked at Jack. “We have to find her.”
“What if she’s dead? Or the rift took her?”
“Jonah came back from it,” Ianto pointed out.
“And look what that did to him.” Jack stood up and walked across, joining Ianto in the doorway. The two men turned and looked across the hub. “It’s so quiet,” he said.
“No Anya, no Xander, no Willow and no Martha,” Ianto rattled off. “They brought life to this place. Without them ... no one wants to be cheerful ... there’s no laughter anymore.”
Jack sighed. “Do you miss the days when it was just the five of us?”
Ianto looked across at Faith sat in the corner talking to Owen and Angel, the three of them looking almost like a family. Their family, just like Buffy and Spike and Tosh and Willow, if she ever returned, and the rest of them. “Never,” he whispered.
19:15
She had the feeling that Ianto had struck a bargain with Jack: He would allow Jack to employ her on the condition that she did paperwork and the ‘safe’ assignments.
Libby snorted. It wasn’t fair.
She tucked her dark hair behind her ear and pulled her gun out of the back of her trousers as she kicked open the front door of the house she was investigating.
“Don't you ever try the door handle?” Mickey enquired.
“Where’s the fun in that?” she retorted, holding her gun in front of her as she approached the living room. There, lying on the floor in the middle of it, was another dead witch. This one was blonde, wearing black leather and holding a packet of herbs.
Judging by the smell, she’d been there a while. Mickey gagged from next to Libby and she sent him a sympathetic look as she touched her earpiece. “Tosh?” she said, cautiously.
“I’m here,” Tosh replied. Her voice sounded weak, as though she was struggling to even talk.
“It’s not her,” Libby told her, gently. “This witch is blonde in her late twenties or early thirties. I’m going to try and find some I.D..” She switched her earpiece off and looked at Mickey, who still had his gloved hand over his mouth, trying not to throw up. “Go outside,” she said. “I’ll find some I.D. and deal with this. I’ll be out in a minute.”
Mickey nodded and ran away.
Libby bent over the corpse and searched the pockets, restraining her own gag reflex as she looked. She found a wallet in the witch’s back pocket and pulled it out, flipping it open and touching her earpiece. “Apparently her name is Ada Springs. She works at the sports centre down the road. She’s thirty-seven years old.” She looked again at her face. “Looking good on it, too,” she commented.
“Probably uses an anti-aging charm,” Tosh commented, dully. “Continue.”
“She lives at twenty-seven palm close.” Libby did a double-take of the I.D. “Okay, now that’s strange.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s a mile from here,” she replied. “This isn’t her home.” She stood up and looked around. “It looks like her home, but it isn’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“There are pictures of her scattered around, magical herbs and other items, there’s even a discarded jumper which matches the scarf she’s wearing,” Libby said. “But she doesn’t live here.”
“Maybe she was staying with a friend?” Tosh asked.
“No,” Libby said, pondering the fact. “I’ve stayed with friends. I don't leave my things scattered when they make a mess like this. And I don't take my jumper off before my scarf.”
“What do you think has happened?” Tosh sounded interested now.
“I don't know.” Libby walked across to the mantelpiece and picked up a photo of Ada stood next to a good looking man in his thirties. “It just seems wrong somehow.”
She was about to look around some more when Mickey yelled, “Libby!” A pause. “Elizabeth!” he screamed.
She put the I.D. and photograph in her pocket, cocked her gun and ran from the room, emerging onto the street beyond and holding her gun up to the cop stood there. She looked at Mickey. “What’s going on?” she asked.
The cop rolled his eyes. “You can put your gun down, miss,” he said. “I’m not armed nor am I going to hurt you.” He had his hands up. She lowered his gun and he ran his eyes over her face. “Hey, don't I know you?”
Libby tilted her head. “You’re PC Andy Davidson, right? We met when Kyle ...” She broke off and swallowed. “We met when PC Button towed the SUV.”
Andy nodded. “Damn sad about him,” he said, regret colouring his tone. “Now, what are you doing here? And who’s the screamer?” He jerked a thumb at Mickey. “And since when do you have a gun?”
Libby looked at Mickey. “Why did you scream?”
Mickey shrugged. “You have the gun not me and he was pointing something sharp at me!”
Andy held up his pen. “This?” he asked, with a smirk.
Mickey blushed. “I’ll be in the SUV,” he said, quickly, running off.
She turned to Andy, putting her gun away. “What are you doing here, then?” she asked.
“I was called in because a woman up the road saw two kids breaking into this house. Since when do you do the breaking and entering? Kyle told me you didn’t work for Torchwood but you were studying to be a doctor in university.”
Libby laughed. “I joined Torchwood and put my education on hold,” she informed him. “We’re understaffed at the moment.”
“I thought you had that new team joining yours?” Andy enquired. “Gwen was telling me about them; the scoobies?”
Libby sighed. “It’s a long story.” She glanced inside the house then back at Andy. “Can you call in a murder?”
“You killed someone?”
“No! She was dead when I got here.” Libby stepped inside the house and Andy followed. She gestured at the body.
“One of your spooky dos is it?”
“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “I think so but ... well, it’s not my place to decide, is it? I just know there’s something fishy going on. I can feel it.”
Andy walked across and looked at the body. “What killed her?”
For the first time, Libby noticed there was nothing about her that showed what had killed her. “I don't know.” She walked to join Andy and crouched down as the smell hit him. He gagged.
“You’re tough,” he commented. “This is making me feel sick.”
“I’ll fall to pieces later,” she told him, quoting herself from months before. “Always do,” she added, too low for him to hear, as she checked the body for any identifiable reason for the woman to be dead. “I don't get it,” she muttered. “Poison maybe?”
“Are you going to bring her in or do you still want me to inform the police of the murder?” Andy asked.
Libby stood up straight again. “I don't know.” She touched her earpiece. “Tosh? Is Jack there?”
“I’ll get him,” Tosh replied.
A couple of seconds later, Jack’s American-accented voice said, “What’s going on?”
“This body, Jack, it’s weird,” Libby said. “I can’t see what killed her.”
“Is it Willow?”
“No.”
“Then it doesn’t matter; let the police deal with it, Libby. You’re just looking for trouble where there isn’t any. It’s not like we need any more trouble at the moment. Head back to base.” The line went dead.
She sighed and turned to Andy. “Call it in, yeah,” she said. “Do me a favour?”
“If I can.”
“Get the details mailed to me.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a pen and notebook, scribbling down her address on it. “I want to know everything about this woman and what killed her.”
Andy looked doubtful. “I’m not sure I’m allowed to do that...” he said.
“Tell them it was requested by Torchwood,” she insisted. “I’ll take the flack if Jack finds out.”
He took the scrap of paper. “Okay.” She headed towards the door. “Oy! Where are you going?”
“Back to hell,” she muttered, opening the door and stepping out.
19:21
Tosh leaned back in her seat and watched Jack as he walked back into his office. She thought he was being unreasonable; he hadn’t even given Libby chance to explain what she wanted and why she wanted it.
Then again, she wasn’t in the position to argue with him. She leant on her desk and rested her face in her palms, running her fingers through her stupidly long fringe and rubbing her eyes. She was tired, so, so tired. She just wanted to sleep but couldn’t.
“Go home,” Ianto whispered in her ear, his strong arms wrapping around her from behind for a brotherly hug. “You’re falling asleep over your keyboard.”
“I won’t sleep. I can’t,” she replied, leaning into the embrace and closing her eyes.
“Anything I can do to help?”
“I think your husband would be jealous.”
She felt Ianto smile. “I think my husband would understand,” he said, quietly.
“It’s okay. I’m fine,” she said.
“Go home. If you don't sleep, at least lie down and rest. Read if you have to.”
Tosh sighed. “Alright,” she said, relenting. “I’ll go home. And I’ll rest.” She stood up and pushed her chair in under her desk, turning to face him. “You going to tell me to get a haircut next?”
Ianto smiled and touched her long hair. “I think it suits you,” he said, gently. He leant in and kissed her on the forehead, softly. “Sleep. Come into work early tomorrow and we’ll search some more for Willow.” He touched her arm. “Want a lift?”
She shook her head. “I can still drive,” she promised. “See you tomorrow.” She smiled at him, the gesture not reaching her eyes, and grabbed her coat as she left the hub. Ianto sighed. She was dying inside and there was nothing he could do to help.
Next: Chapter 2