Fic: To The Pain (34/41)
Title: To The Pain, Chapter 34
Rating: R
Warnings: None really, just don’t feel like changing the rating :)
Spoilers: Season One thru End of Days (1x13)
Pairings: Jack/Ianto
Disclaimer: Torchwood and all its wonderfulness belong to Russell T. Davies and the Mighty Beeb. Just goofin' around!
Summary: In which two months have gone by and Jack is still missing…
Notes: Sequel to Vizzini’s Rule; previous chapters of To The Pain can be found here. Thanks to my wonderful beta (seriously, she betas when she’s sick!! *HUGS* sweetie!)
thrace_adams for all the support and putting up with my lastminuteness - any mistakes are mine!
To The Pain: Chapter Thirty-Four
Ianto opened the door to the Tourist Office, red-faced and sweating. He locked the door behind him and grabbed a small towel off the stack he’d started keeping behind the counter since the weather had gotten warmer. He wiped his streaming face as he twisted carefully, stretching his sides as he cooled down from his long run. He couldn’t believe how hot it was already, averaging around 28° which seemed more like August than mid-June to him.
He finally caught his breath and made his way down to the lower levels of the Hub after glancing at the clock. He had plenty of time before anyone else was likely to show up and he wanted to get some lifting in. The last few days had been rather busy - a rash of weevil attacks plus a strange piece of tech that the rift had left floating in the middle of the bay - and Ianto hadn’t been able to stick to the schedule he’d developed, hence the early morning run. But it worked out for the best, he thought as he set the weights to the right configuration on the bench press. If it’s just gonna get hotter, I’d rather get my run out of the way early. He stripped off his shirt and tossed it on the extra weight bench before he stretched out and positioned himself under the barbell. As he began his series of reps, he let his mind go blank and wander wherever.
Not surprisingly, it went immediately to Jack.
Ianto had done as Jack asked in his vision. He hadn’t tried any more experiments with telepathy, and as much as he hated to admit it, he began to sleep better, function better and just plain feel better as soon as he stopped. He knew that if he needed to, he was probably capable of using telepathy again but he had no plans to disobey Jack’s wishes in the near future. At least not until I can talk to him about it, Ianto thought. He felt a small smile pass over his lips as he thought about talking to Jack again. He still believed that Jack was coming back to him, to all of them, even though the waiting got harder and harder every day. The others were starting to refine their plan of action if Jack never returned, a discussion he refused to take part in every time it came up. Ianto kept reminding them that he had until August before they could announce anything, but Tosh assured him that they were just talking.
Ianto pushed himself a little harder, grunting on each exhalation of breath as he lifted the heavy weights up and down, up and down, noting with satisfaction that he’d need to add another weight soon. He’d spent the last two months focusing on getting in shape, putting himself back together. He’d been using Jack’s weights and had developed a standard routine for his runs instead of just using them to escape. Owen had pronounced him in the best shape ever at his yearly physical a few weeks before.
He finished his set and carefully returned the barbell to its rests. He stretched again and moved to the rack of free weights. He selected a pair of dumbbells and began to work his triceps. He watched his movements in the mirror, making sure his back was straight and his legs were supporting his upper body correctly. He wished all his hard work had left him with a set of abs like Jack’s but he hadn’t come close yet.
Brendan didn’t seem to mind, the little voice in his head chirped.
Ianto grimaced and kept lifting.
Thoughts of Brendan still filled Ianto with confusion, even two months after their one weekend together. When Brendan had returned to Torchwood in April to take care of the routine maintenance on the SUV, things between them had been… tense isn’t the right word, Ianto mused. It was just… odd. Brendan had come for the day, done his work on the vehicle and then joined Ianto for lunch as they had done in the past. They had chatted easily, discussing Brendan’s brother and his situation with UNIT, how Ianto was enjoying his new BMW, Gwen’s latest plan for her wedding, and other everyday things. What they hadn’t discussed was Jack, Ianto’s feelings for Jack, their feelings for each other or anything related to those topics. While Ianto was grateful to Brendan for keeping things simple, he was also slightly hurt that Brendan seemed so unaffected by it all. And then, of course, he felt guilty for feeling that way.
Ianto sighed and switched to curls, whipping the weights up too quickly in his frustration with himself. He took a deep breath and slowed his movements. Owen had given Ianto a stern lecture on lifting safety and he really didn’t want to have to explain to the doctor that he’d pulled a muscle because he was stressing over his attraction to man who wasn’t Jack. It had been hard enough to get Owen to knock off the snarky remarks about the two of them. Adding a third man to the equation? Ianto shuddered. It didn’t bear thinking about.
A faint beeping suddenly filled the air, the alarm on his watch reminding him to pack it in and head for the showers. He replaced the dumbbells on the rack and tidied the room before he left, wiping down the weights and the bench and turning off the lights. He walked swiftly to Jack’s office and down the ladder to his Captain’s quarters. While Ianto was no longer spending every single night holding vigil over the Hub, he still spent quite a bit of time in Jack’s room. He didn’t hide the fact from the rest of the team anymore either. If there was something that needed to be monitored overnight or if the rift was being particularly active, Ianto always volunteered to stay and keep an eye on things. Ianto had found lately that he slept better in Jack’s cozy bed rather than his own. It was the closest thing he had left to Jack sleeping next to him.
He showered quickly and then dressed, noting that this was his last suit in the wardrobe. Have to spend tonight at home and bring some more in tomorrow, he thought as he tied his tie in a neat half Windsor. He hoped that today would be relatively quiet. They were all feeling a little run off their feet by the rift lately. It had been so volatile that Ianto had started to physically dread the sheets of Rift Monitor reports that Tosh handed to him throughout the day. With all the activity, he was on tenterhooks, certain that a trip to Flat Holm was in his immediate future. He’d been too lucky during Jack’s absence. Other than the doomed other-Jack whom Ianto had been unable to help, the only thing that the rift had returned in the last four months was a perfect preserved 1958 Ford Prefect. Oddly enough, it had landed in an empty space in the car park between Cardiff City Stadium and Ninian Park during the middle of a football match. Ianto didn’t come across anyone who had seen it arrive, so he just left it there for the police (or an enterprising car thief, he really didn’t care) and returned to Torchwood.
Ianto chuckled at the memory as he headed up the ladder. He had the coffee made and chocolate croissant in hand before any of the rest of the team showed up. Tosh was first, as usual. She joined him with her cup of coffee and selected her favorite muffin from the plate of breakfast treats he’d purchased. They were munching in companionable silence when Gwen came in, followed closely by Owen who appeared to be nursing a considerable hangover. He gulped down a cup of coffee and then let his head fall onto the table, ignoring the rest of the team as they began to chat.
They had their usual, informal morning meeting where Gwen suggested a long weekend if the rift would cooperate. Tosh was fairly certain that the activity had peaked and seconded the notion of a few days off. Owen just groaned.
The girls were both giving Owen a hard time about getting old when Ianto heard a faint ringing from Jack’s office. He excused himself and hurried to the cabinet where the secure-phone was kept. When he glanced at the display, he groaned a little. Whitehall. The Prime Minister’s number. With a prayer that the new PM wouldn’t need as much hand-holding as the last, Ianto answered the mobile.
“Torchwood Three, Ianto Jones speaking.”
“Ianto Jones. Oh, I was so hoping it would be you. This is Harold Saxon speaking.”
“Mr. Saxon. Prime Minister, may I offer my congratulations?”
“You may, you may, thank you, Ianto Jones,” Saxon said in his most caressing tones.
Ianto smiled. There was just something about Harold Saxon that made him feel good, feel safe. It was the main reason he’d voted for him. Before he could reply, Saxon continued.
“But enough with the pleasantries, Mr. Jones. I’m phoning because I need your help,” Saxon said dramatically. “Britain needs Torchwood.”
TBC in Chapter Thirty-Five 41
Rating: R
Warnings: None really, just don’t feel like changing the rating :)
Spoilers: Season One thru End of Days (1x13)
Pairings: Jack/Ianto
Disclaimer: Torchwood and all its wonderfulness belong to Russell T. Davies and the Mighty Beeb. Just goofin' around!
Summary: In which two months have gone by and Jack is still missing…
Notes: Sequel to Vizzini’s Rule; previous chapters of To The Pain can be found here. Thanks to my wonderful beta (seriously, she betas when she’s sick!! *HUGS* sweetie!)
thrace_adams for all the support and putting up with my lastminuteness - any mistakes are mine!
To The Pain: Chapter Thirty-Four
Ianto opened the door to the Tourist Office, red-faced and sweating. He locked the door behind him and grabbed a small towel off the stack he’d started keeping behind the counter since the weather had gotten warmer. He wiped his streaming face as he twisted carefully, stretching his sides as he cooled down from his long run. He couldn’t believe how hot it was already, averaging around 28° which seemed more like August than mid-June to him.
He finally caught his breath and made his way down to the lower levels of the Hub after glancing at the clock. He had plenty of time before anyone else was likely to show up and he wanted to get some lifting in. The last few days had been rather busy - a rash of weevil attacks plus a strange piece of tech that the rift had left floating in the middle of the bay - and Ianto hadn’t been able to stick to the schedule he’d developed, hence the early morning run. But it worked out for the best, he thought as he set the weights to the right configuration on the bench press. If it’s just gonna get hotter, I’d rather get my run out of the way early. He stripped off his shirt and tossed it on the extra weight bench before he stretched out and positioned himself under the barbell. As he began his series of reps, he let his mind go blank and wander wherever.
Not surprisingly, it went immediately to Jack.
Ianto had done as Jack asked in his vision. He hadn’t tried any more experiments with telepathy, and as much as he hated to admit it, he began to sleep better, function better and just plain feel better as soon as he stopped. He knew that if he needed to, he was probably capable of using telepathy again but he had no plans to disobey Jack’s wishes in the near future. At least not until I can talk to him about it, Ianto thought. He felt a small smile pass over his lips as he thought about talking to Jack again. He still believed that Jack was coming back to him, to all of them, even though the waiting got harder and harder every day. The others were starting to refine their plan of action if Jack never returned, a discussion he refused to take part in every time it came up. Ianto kept reminding them that he had until August before they could announce anything, but Tosh assured him that they were just talking.
Ianto pushed himself a little harder, grunting on each exhalation of breath as he lifted the heavy weights up and down, up and down, noting with satisfaction that he’d need to add another weight soon. He’d spent the last two months focusing on getting in shape, putting himself back together. He’d been using Jack’s weights and had developed a standard routine for his runs instead of just using them to escape. Owen had pronounced him in the best shape ever at his yearly physical a few weeks before.
He finished his set and carefully returned the barbell to its rests. He stretched again and moved to the rack of free weights. He selected a pair of dumbbells and began to work his triceps. He watched his movements in the mirror, making sure his back was straight and his legs were supporting his upper body correctly. He wished all his hard work had left him with a set of abs like Jack’s but he hadn’t come close yet.
Brendan didn’t seem to mind, the little voice in his head chirped.
Ianto grimaced and kept lifting.
Thoughts of Brendan still filled Ianto with confusion, even two months after their one weekend together. When Brendan had returned to Torchwood in April to take care of the routine maintenance on the SUV, things between them had been… tense isn’t the right word, Ianto mused. It was just… odd. Brendan had come for the day, done his work on the vehicle and then joined Ianto for lunch as they had done in the past. They had chatted easily, discussing Brendan’s brother and his situation with UNIT, how Ianto was enjoying his new BMW, Gwen’s latest plan for her wedding, and other everyday things. What they hadn’t discussed was Jack, Ianto’s feelings for Jack, their feelings for each other or anything related to those topics. While Ianto was grateful to Brendan for keeping things simple, he was also slightly hurt that Brendan seemed so unaffected by it all. And then, of course, he felt guilty for feeling that way.
Ianto sighed and switched to curls, whipping the weights up too quickly in his frustration with himself. He took a deep breath and slowed his movements. Owen had given Ianto a stern lecture on lifting safety and he really didn’t want to have to explain to the doctor that he’d pulled a muscle because he was stressing over his attraction to man who wasn’t Jack. It had been hard enough to get Owen to knock off the snarky remarks about the two of them. Adding a third man to the equation? Ianto shuddered. It didn’t bear thinking about.
A faint beeping suddenly filled the air, the alarm on his watch reminding him to pack it in and head for the showers. He replaced the dumbbells on the rack and tidied the room before he left, wiping down the weights and the bench and turning off the lights. He walked swiftly to Jack’s office and down the ladder to his Captain’s quarters. While Ianto was no longer spending every single night holding vigil over the Hub, he still spent quite a bit of time in Jack’s room. He didn’t hide the fact from the rest of the team anymore either. If there was something that needed to be monitored overnight or if the rift was being particularly active, Ianto always volunteered to stay and keep an eye on things. Ianto had found lately that he slept better in Jack’s cozy bed rather than his own. It was the closest thing he had left to Jack sleeping next to him.
He showered quickly and then dressed, noting that this was his last suit in the wardrobe. Have to spend tonight at home and bring some more in tomorrow, he thought as he tied his tie in a neat half Windsor. He hoped that today would be relatively quiet. They were all feeling a little run off their feet by the rift lately. It had been so volatile that Ianto had started to physically dread the sheets of Rift Monitor reports that Tosh handed to him throughout the day. With all the activity, he was on tenterhooks, certain that a trip to Flat Holm was in his immediate future. He’d been too lucky during Jack’s absence. Other than the doomed other-Jack whom Ianto had been unable to help, the only thing that the rift had returned in the last four months was a perfect preserved 1958 Ford Prefect. Oddly enough, it had landed in an empty space in the car park between Cardiff City Stadium and Ninian Park during the middle of a football match. Ianto didn’t come across anyone who had seen it arrive, so he just left it there for the police (or an enterprising car thief, he really didn’t care) and returned to Torchwood.
Ianto chuckled at the memory as he headed up the ladder. He had the coffee made and chocolate croissant in hand before any of the rest of the team showed up. Tosh was first, as usual. She joined him with her cup of coffee and selected her favorite muffin from the plate of breakfast treats he’d purchased. They were munching in companionable silence when Gwen came in, followed closely by Owen who appeared to be nursing a considerable hangover. He gulped down a cup of coffee and then let his head fall onto the table, ignoring the rest of the team as they began to chat.
They had their usual, informal morning meeting where Gwen suggested a long weekend if the rift would cooperate. Tosh was fairly certain that the activity had peaked and seconded the notion of a few days off. Owen just groaned.
The girls were both giving Owen a hard time about getting old when Ianto heard a faint ringing from Jack’s office. He excused himself and hurried to the cabinet where the secure-phone was kept. When he glanced at the display, he groaned a little. Whitehall. The Prime Minister’s number. With a prayer that the new PM wouldn’t need as much hand-holding as the last, Ianto answered the mobile.
“Torchwood Three, Ianto Jones speaking.”
“Ianto Jones. Oh, I was so hoping it would be you. This is Harold Saxon speaking.”
“Mr. Saxon. Prime Minister, may I offer my congratulations?”
“You may, you may, thank you, Ianto Jones,” Saxon said in his most caressing tones.
Ianto smiled. There was just something about Harold Saxon that made him feel good, feel safe. It was the main reason he’d voted for him. Before he could reply, Saxon continued.
“But enough with the pleasantries, Mr. Jones. I’m phoning because I need your help,” Saxon said dramatically. “Britain needs Torchwood.”
TBC in Chapter Thirty-Five 41