Fic: The Oncoming Storm (Slash, AU, Janto 9/40)
Author: d8rkmessngr
Pairing: Jack/OMC, Jack/?, Jack/Ianto eventually, het and slash
Rating: NC-17 (betaed)
Summary: He left Jack on the game station. Abandoned. But then…he came back…different. An AU look on what happens if things happened differently. Doctor Who 'verse with Torchwood later on. Be sure to read the warnings.
Warnings: Please read each chapter's individual warnings. Some parts down the road may briefly mention non-con, abuse, and/or violence. Dark in the beginning. Please note there are some dark thoughts as my boys are broken…for now. Each chapter will be labeled for your convenience.
Author's Notes: Please note this is an AU that will cross over DW to TW season one. I'm probably spoiling my own story, but it will eventually be Janto. There's a bit of a journey first. I hope you enjoy. I'm working on this and intend to post regularly every other day. And again, I always believe in happy endings. So without further ado…
Disclaimer: RTD and BBC owns them. I'm just borrowing them for a while.
Warning For This Chapter: mentions past non-con/dubious consent, minor (very minor) het, verbal and mental abuse.
Prologue + Ch , Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8,
Master Fic List: here
Chapter 9
London, Canary Wharf
2006
Three days later…
Fortunately or unfortunately-depending on who you asked-things in Torchwood became too frantic, too time sensitive for everyone to gather around for lunch again. Good, because Ianto was perfectly content to be left alone to contemplate. Bad because of the exact same reason.
'…found outside Berlin making inquires about 'the Doctor'. When asked for further detail, Agent Harkness was very rude' That was crossed out. 'Impolite' That was crossed out as well. '…brief.' There was a slight tear on the paper where the then leader of Torchwood Cardiff had scribbled out recommendations to have their freelancer more closely watched.
Ianto stopped chewing on his thumbnail and straightened in his seat. He smirked to himself at Harkness' recount of twin acrobats Torchwood had suspected being alien due to their "astounding flexibility." Captain Jack Harkness was succinct in his report, ending it with a personal guarantee that he examined the twins with 'explicit attention' and concluded that the pair was not extraterrestrials. Just extraordinary.
"Well said, Captain," Ianto murmured. He could practically hear the captain's amused baritone in his head.
Ianto's smile faded. What was he doing?
With a push, Ianto nudged the file away from him. That was 1917 and the photo of a dapper dressed emcee was the exact same of the one in Lahore, eight years before. It was the same deceptively unassuming pose; loose limbed and athletic.
Same distant, longing eyes. Same sad smile.
Ianto pulled out the photo still tucked in his right jacket pocket. Lord, he was acting like Elisa. Ianto tapped the corner of the photo against his lips, deep in thought.
The intercom rang and he picked up. Ianto half-listened, sitting higher when he recognized it was the second-in-command's aide, requesting…requesting a what?
"Temporal co-duplicator?" Ianto repeated, frowning. "Yes, I know where that is located. It's in the south vault because we couldn't figure how it worked-Pardon? Um…I believe so. I'll bring it up directly."
There was a hurried farewell on the phone to end the call, more for the sake of propriety than sincerity.
Ianto tapped the photo against his mouth again. What on earth would they want those items? He recalled categorizing them-Lisa teased him for remembering everything that passed his hands-after three engineering teams had thrown up their hands in disgust. They had washed up in the Rift by Cardiff and other than having something to do with time, what they did was a mystery.
"Your job is not to question," Ianto muttered. "Even if they're all prats." He pulled the photo away and blinked at the photo. He realized he had been fanning it over his mouth, his lips just brushing across the captain's face.
Ianto turned beet-red.
That didn't count as a kiss. That didn't. This was a man for God's sake. A very male man. And Ianto was not a giggly Cryptologist from Pakistan. He was not pining for the mysterious and very male Captain Jack Hotn-Harkness! It was Harkness, confound it all!
He glanced left and right but no one was around to see him banging his head on his desk. He grumbled under his breath, rummaging around for the keycards for the necessary vaults, and hurried on his way.
It wasn't until he reached for his keycard that Ianto realized he'd tucked Harkness' photo back in his pocket.
He was greeted in the top offices like he was delivering lunch; impatient because they were waiting, grateful because no one else would do it, and dismissive because "Yes, yes, glad you were here now please sod off, we're busy."
It was only because the temporal co-duplicator required a trolley (despite it size, it was surprisingly heavy and his forehead was dripping with sweat by the time he pushed it into the lift) that Ianto was let into the meeting room. To his surprise or disgust-surprise to see him, disgusted because Director Hartman sat there looking thoroughly debauched-the Doctor stood over their director, his arms waving in grand gestures.
"Ianto Jones, how good to see you again." The Doctor clapped once as if Ianto had shot up the table and did a jig. Then, abruptly, his jovial face turned to something more…Ianto wasn't sure. But it made the hair on the back of his hands rise.
"Thank you, Mr. Jones." The Director was not as happy to see him. She sat up in her chair, patting her disheveled hair self-consciously and straightening her suit jacket as she swiveled in her seat to study the newly arrived item. "Is that it?" she asked skeptically.
The Doctor was turning one item around in his hands; how he could lift it up so easily Ianto wasn't sure. It reminded Ianto of a toaster stripped of its cover. He examined it like a perspective buyer, mouth pursed, eyes squinting as he checked for dings. "These are exactly it, Madam Director." The Doctor held it up for Ianto to see. "What do you think, Ianto Jones?"
It irked him the way the Doctor said his name-certainly nothing like the way he says it-like he deserved a patronizing pat on the head or-from what the others had been gossiping about-his bum. Ianto certainly didn't want either. He took a step back and gave him a polite smile.
"I'm not quite sure what it does, Doctor." Actually, no one did.
The Doctor flapped a hand towards him. "Of course, of course, you don't. What do you call it? You people always love giving things names."
"Temporal co-duplicator."
The Doctor barked a chuckle and spun around to the director. "Close! Oh, you were very, very close! It allows temporal fluctuations from two different times to co-exist."
Hartman looked at the oddity in his hand with renewed fascination. "Co-exist? Like today and-"
"Tomorrow! Or Yesterday and today or-"
"Wouldn't that create a paradox?" Bollocks, he hadn't meant to speak up and Director Hartman looked very crossed.
The Doctor, however, smiled broadly at him. "Very good, Ianto Jones. It would indeed create a paradox, but this will only sustain such an event for a short, short period of time. No harm and perfectly harmless to you."
"So why would you want it?"
"Mr. Jones!" Director Hartman looked about ready to explode.
Ah bugger, where was Lisa to step on his foot?
"It's alright, it's quite alright," the Doctor gestured with a placating hand towards the director. "It's a perfectly legitimate question." He cleared his throat, looking more ready to address an audience of hundreds than two. "It's harmless for you now, but I would rather have custody of this before anything…bad happens." The Doctor sat down and set the temporal device in front of him. He set both his hands on the table edge and stared at it intently.
His voice dropped to a hum as his fingers tapped out a beat to his words. "It's harmless unless you instilled dark matter from say, the Malcassairo regions and crystals from Arcateen or Bengoria, then you would have something very, oh, very powerful. A wonderful, horrible machine."
The room fell into a pregnant silence.
The Doctor looked up, blinked and his face broke out into a cheerful smile.
"Well, I say it's a good thing you won't reach any of these places for a very, very long time now, isn't it?"
It was like there was a visible "pop" in the air and Ianto found it easy to breathe again. A quick look at the director confirmed she felt the same.
"Yes," the director sounded shaken. "A good thing you came along." She gave Ianto a curt nod. "Thank you, Mr. Jones."
Seeing it as a clear dismissal, Ianto started to turn when the Doctor called out to him.
"You said you were a researcher?"
Ianto tensed as he turned back to face them by the end of the table. "Yes," he replied slowly.
The Doctor considered him between steepled fingers. "Ever considered a more active field? Say perhaps your Rift Research Department?"
"Him?" The director sounded so incredulous. Ianto shook his head.
"No." Ianto wondered why the Doctor was making employment suggestions. "I haven't considered it." Lisa had, but Ianto had no desire to wear a lab coat all day.
Hartman scrutinized him from where she sat. "Did you study physics?" she abruptly demanded.
Taken aback, Ianto could only stammered, "N-no."
"Temporal sciences? Nuclear mechanics? Astronomy? Stellar Cartography?"
"N-no, to all," Ianto blustered.
The Doctor grinned at her. "See? Perfect." He leaned forward and whispered something in her ear, his fingertips dancing over her knuckles. Ianto looked away.
"Yes, well." Hartman cleared her throat. "Have your application forward to your supervisor and Abigail. I'll review it myself."
"But, I wasn't inter-"
"That will be all, Jones, thank you."
Ianto turned around again, wondering sourly if Lisa had slipped the Doctor a few quid to box him into applying.
"Actually, Ianto Jones, wait."
Oh, what now? Ianto started when he saw the Doctor darted in front of him and pressed a key in his hand.
"Before you retreat to your nice, quiet dungeon, I was wondering if you would fetch my companion from my ship? Here's the key. You may have to jam it in there; I'm always having trouble with the old thing. The Captain may be sleeping in." The skin crawling feeling returned when the Doctor's mouth curved slightly. "I'm afraid we may have worn him out yesterday."
Behind him, Ianto could have sworn he heard the director snicker. The smile he gave the Doctor, however, was sincere.
"I would be happy to," Ianto told him.
As he left the meeting room, Ianto told himself he was walking so quickly because he was glad to escape there.
The guards, as soon as they saw the temporary badge from the director, let Ianto in the cargo bay room, without protest. They sat back down in their stations, their feet going up and down noisily on the floor. Ianto could hear their rhythmic tapping following him in.
The police box was exactly where he remembered it, sitting among the crates from Torchwood Cardiff. Even the loop where Ianto's foot had snagged on the Caution tape (not his finest moment) was still limp on the floor.
Ianto paused by the police box. He straightened his tie, ran a hand through his hair, then realized what he was doing, blushed, raised his fist and knocked.
Then, he waited.
And waited.
Ianto frowned and looked down at the key in his hand. Taking a deep breath, Ianto inserted the key, surprised it slipped in easily, contrary to the Doctor's complaint.
Even though it wasn't his first time in here, the girth that opened up and welcomed him was still enough to make him pause one foot into the chamber.
"Hello?" It felt odd to be walking in like this. There was a phone outside the police box. Should he have called first?
"Captain Harkness? Uh…it's Ianto Jones calling?" Good Lord, what was the proper etiquette for visiting a spaceship? "Pardon the intrusion. Sir? Captain?"
The main chamber was silent; discomfortingly so. It felt unnatural that the place was this silent. The lighting was dim, but still bright enough to reveal there was absolutely no one inside.
Ianto stared at the door he spied open to his right. It was open and he was to fetch-Ianto hated the word-Captain Harkness. And he was an employee of Torchwood. He should properly investigate this…this…police box?
Ianto headed for the door. He paused briefly at the cool-feeling pink-golden coral winding down the corridors. Another deep breath for nerves, Ianto pushed forward.
Lorrie would have a fit if she knew he was in here again, Ianto mused, wishing he’d thought to get a camera mobile like Lisa had. Although Lisa had the tendency to pop up out of nowhere and take the most embarrassing pictures of him.
He stood in front of an odd room, almost as large as the central chamber, the core a towering circular cage that glowed red. It didn't look finished but its pulse made Ianto uneasy. He backed away and went deeper down the lengthy hallway.
There was one door left, partially open, and quietly, Ianto knocked, offering a hesitant, "Captain?" before slipping through the door to a dim area.
The open door gave some light, the crack serving a thin beam of light that shone on the lump on a bed, facing away from Ianto. The lump didn't move, huddled under a duvet; the mop of dark hair peeking out on top was the only clue Ianto had.
Ianto swallowed, approaching closer even as common sense told him it was rather impolite to wake someone you hardly knew-human or alien.
"Captain?" Ianto whispered, edging closer and closer until he stood by the bed. Ianto stretched out a hand, retracted it, then reached out again, giving the covered shoulder a hasty tap before he took a few steps back.
The answering stir was followed with a sleepy "D-doctor?" The lump moved and Jack Harkness groaned a little. "…don't…"
"Uh, sorry, Captain…I…it's Ianto Jones, sir. The Doctor asked if I could come fe-escort you to the meeting room upstairs."
The lump was rigid the moment Ianto spoke but relaxed moments later. Half-mast eyes looked over his shoulder, squinting at the sliver of light on his face.
"Who?" Harkness still sounded confused.
Ianto shifted from foot to foot. "Ianto Jones, sir. We uh, met a few days befo-" His voice died into a squeak when Harkness sat up groggily, the blanket sliding off his nude shoulders and spilling onto his equally nude lap.
"I-I-I'll wait outside while you dress, sir," Ianto stammered, dismayed he sounded like he was twelve again.
Harkness tilted his head and twisted around to frown at Ianto. There was open concern for whatever he saw on Ianto's face and Harkness braced his hands on his knees.
"Oh, no, no, no!" Ianto balked. "Don't get up!" The last thing he needed was a six foot naked alien emblazed into his mind. Harkness' photo still burned a hole in his pocket. "I'll…I'll…" Ianto pointed to the door with his thumb, reversing until his back struck the door.
Harkness finally understood, looked down-good Lord, the blanket slipped further and exposed a broad, flawless muscled back-and Harkness said "Ah."
"I forgot you people are still…shy." Harkness chuckled throatily and oh, the humiliation, he made a point to turn back around and pulled the covers higher on himself. "Sorry." His voice was heavy with fatigue but the amusement was still there. "I'll get changed now. Thanks."
"I'll…" Ianto gulped when Harkness moved to gather the covers around him and revealed a glimpse of pale buttocks, curved just so that made him wonder if they would fit within the palms of his hands like L-Outside! Now! Out, out, out!
"Outside!" Ianto blurted out, just shy of shouting and despite Harkness' perplexed look, Ianto squeezed out of the partially opened door.
Ianto wheezed, one hand to his forehead and he leaned heavily next to the door. He tugged at his tie with the other hand, panting, his mouth dry.
Good Lord, that was…completely unexpected, utterly, absolutely-
There was a dull thud inside and Ianto jerked. He straightened and darted back inside before he realized he was doing it.
"Captain?" he asked anxiously, already going around the bed just as Harkness weakly grabbed at the bed to pull himself up.
"'m okay," Harkness muttered, his blue eyes were cloudy when he looked at Ianto. The blanket pooled around his ankles but Ianto didn't notice now as he slipped his hands around Harkness' arms. Ianto's frown deepened. Harkness' skin was too cool to his liking.
"No, let me help you," Ianto insisted as he pulled the captain back up to the bed. He could feel the captain trembling minutely and Ianto didn't mind when he felt Harkness sag against him for a brief second. Ianto grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around the captain. He peered up at Harkness' face, dismayed to find that those vivid blue eyes he recalled were glazed and unfocused. "We have a medic on the vicinity. I can-"
"No," Harkness groaned. He braced his forehead with his hand. He swallowed convulsively and offered Ianto a shaky and unconvincing smile.
"It'll pass. It always does." Harkness inhaled sharply. He wrapped the covers around himself and looked a little lost. "I just stood up too quickly. Let me go change and-"
"Where are your clothes?" Ianto said abruptly, getting to his feet.
"What?" Startled, Harkness stared at him as Ianto felt around, bumping into what felt like a wardrobe. "What are you doing?"
Ianto opened the closet and squinted at the contents. "Clothes," he declared as he sorted through the hung articles with a finger. He leaned past the open door and looked at the huddled figure on the bed. Harkness looked at him, bewildered. Ianto's stomach did an odd flip and he ducked his head back into the closet. Quickly, he grabbed a blue shirt. "Like you said, we're still shy and really not prepared for you to parade around…uh…unclothed." He was unprepared. Ianto walked over, making a point to look past Harkness' shoulder because the blanket wasn't covering…everything.
Silently, Ianto raised the shirt and white tee up for Harkness' inspection. The captain nodded wearily and grabbed it off the hanger. Like an old man, the captain slipped on the white t-shirt over his head, then shrugged into the button shirt.
After watching Harkness' fingers miss the button for the third time, Ianto tsked, dropped to his knees and pushed Harkness' fingers away.
"You're getting them all wrong," Ianto muttered and he slipped the buttons through their holes one by one.
"I don't need a butler." Good humor crept in but the exhaustion was still audible. The captain fumbled for the next button with little success.
"Apparently," Ianto remarked. "There's a shirt in there in dire need of ironing."
"There hasn't been much time to do chores," Harkness joked faintly. "With all that traveling through time and space."
"Hm…regardless, surely even aliens have some sense of decorum." Ianto noted the buttons were not the plastic kind, high quality, well detailed. His father, a master tailor, had taught him to recognize the handcraft of the crisp cotton.
"Hate to tell you," Harkness rasped. "I'm human…sort of."
Ianto blinked up at the captain and met a very intense stare. He lowered his eyes. "Oh."
"Disappointed?" Harkness quipped.
Ianto looked up at the sad twist of the captain's mouth. He was glad it was too dark for him to see Ianto blush.
"No," Ianto said evenly. "Not really." He placed his hands on strong shoulders when Harkness slumped.
"Are you unwell, Captain?" Ianto asked softly. Harkness felt solid, warm even under layers of cotton and Ianto was surprised how hard it was to pull away.
There were fathoms in Jack Harkness' eyes when he replied emotionlessly, "You could say that."
"Truly, I can get a medic here-"
"There's nothing anyone can do," Harkness interrupted, his voice harsh. "Nothing! I can't be helped!"
Ianto found himself reaching out to the crack in Harkness' voice. He dropped his hands on top of the covers, over Harkness' knees.
"I'm sorry," Ianto said quietly. His chest tightened when Harkness raised his dull gaze at him.
"Shouldn't I be saying that?" The Captain straightened and he sighed as he reached down for his shirt.
"I'll finish that," Ianto pulled the captain's hands away. "Just catch your breath. I'll do it."
Ianto's fingers could feel the stitching of his shirt and he looped each button all the way until his finger brushed across under Harkness' Adam's apple.
Ianto cleared his throat. He pulled his hands away from the top button and the temptation to smooth his hand across Harkness' throat. He sat back on his heels. "All done."
Harkness looked at him strangely, as if puzzled when Ianto didn't do what he expected Ianto might do.
Ianto cleared his throat again, slipped a finger behind his tie knot to tug it loose and went back to the wardrobe. "Trousers," he managed to keep his voice steady. He didn't want to think about how warm his fingers felt as they brushed against Harkness as he did up the buttons or how his chest bumped against the captain's bare knees as he knelt there. Ianto pulled out one and paused.
"Um…do you…er…" Ianto passed the trousers without looking at Harkness. "Underpants?"
"Why?" There was a bitter note in Harkness' voice, almost resigned. "He'll just-" Harkness' voice firmed. "I can take it from here."
"Are you sure?" Ianto stared at the slouched back, unsure why he couldn't bring himself to leave. He should. He should walk out the door and wait for him outside. It was the proper thing to do.
"I'll see you outside."
Ianto had a feeling Harkness meant the police box, not the room. Ianto lingered, hesitant but when the captain didn't turn around, Ianto nodded and quietly slipped out.
He still looked cold.
Ianto studied the captain surreptitiously from his corner of the elevator. Harkness leaned against the opposite corner, staring at the doors and the numbers that gradually climbed to where the director and Doctor waited.
The photo sitting heavy in his pocket reminded Ianto of the image he studied so often. It held a more vibrant Captain Jack Harkness than the one standing next to him.
"Are you sure you wouldn't prefer to go somewhere else?" Ianto asked quietly. He raised his gaze and stared at the profile before him.
Harkness gave a strained laugh. "Believe me, I do." Harkness turned his head, resting it on the elevator wall as he considered Ianto.
"Don't you owe me a tour of this place?" The captain smiled wanly at Ianto.
Keeping his eyes on the lit button, Ianto rolled his eyes. "Very well. How about a tour of our lovely infirmary?"
Harkness laughed and Ianto was heartened to hear it was stronger than before. Perhaps the captain was feeling better. He leaned over, crossing into Ianto's space. Ianto closed his eyes and thought he could smell something; heady, musky, definitely masculine yet equally alluring. His eyes flew open when he realized he was leaning a little towards the captain. Ianto snapped back up, yelping when the back of his head struck the elevator wall loud enough to have it thud hollowly.
Blue eyes slid over to him. "Are you okay?"
Ianto grimaced, his hand to the back of his head. "Yes, I-What are you doing?"
"How about a tour?" Harkness gave him a bright smile over his shoulder before he stared at the buttons. "Which floor's more interesting? This one? How about this one?" With a sudden impish glee of a tot, the captain pressed one button then another.
"Stop-stop that!" Ianto groaned as he tried to shoulder past the captain, but too late, almost every floor was lit. "You can't do that!"
"I gave you a tour," the captain pointed out, his eyes sparkled like a clear sky. It was impossible to be angry with him.
"You showed me one room," Ianto laughed. He swatted the captain's hand when he tried to press the last remaining unlit floor. "One room, captain. That's hardly fair."
"Ah, but it was one great room and how do I know you didn't give yourself a tour before?"
"I did," Ianto admitted, still smiling. "But I had no idea what I was looking at." Except for the last room.
"Still, I think this warrants a tour of each room."
"We have 637 rooms."
Harkness stared at him. "I'm not going to ask how you even know that. That many, hm? Well, we better get started then." The doors opened and Harkness made to exit, but Ianto snagged the back of his greatcoat.
"Oh no, you don't," Ianto chuckled. "I'm under orders to fetch you to the Doctor and my director, not to go gallivanting around Canary Wharf."
Ianto realized his mistake when Harkness froze, then back away from the doors. He leaned heavily on the wall next to Ianto.
"Well, if that's the case," Harkness said, subdued. "I guess we better go see the Doctor."
Ianto's hand dropped from his coat. "I…" Somehow, saying sorry felt too insincere. "Perhaps another time?"
There was no anger in Harkness' expression when he turned towards him. "Sure. Next time." He looked resigned and when the captain faced back the elevator doors, he said nothing more.
Damn, damn, damn. Ianto didn't know what to say to recapture that warm bubble he felt between them. Opening his ruddy mouth dispelled the casual air in the elevator. Ianto stared, miserable at Harkness' blank expression, the captain's shoulders growing stiffer as they went higher and higher. Harkness now flinched when the doors opened, then shut with a hiss.
It was five floors before their destination when Harkness tried to hide a shudder. It made up Ianto's mind.
"Sod it," Ianto muttered and at the next floor, he didn't think about it; he grabbed the edge of the captain's right sleeve and dragged him out of the elevator.
"Uh…" The captain sounded bewildered but he followed nevertheless. "This is not our floor."
"No," Ianto said, his eyes fixed on the new elevator. He tugged Harkness' sleeve, practically dragging him into the new one when it opened.
"So where are we going?"
Ianto stabbed at the button and kept his eyes on it. "We're going downstairs," Ianto half pleaded as he let go of the greatcoat's sleeve. "Now shut up before I change my mind."
Captain Jack Harkness shut up.
Chapter 10
Additional Notes:Many thanks to snakeling for betaing this chapter long ago. Yes, I finally finished and can start reporting! Huzzah! LOL.
Pairing: Jack/OMC, Jack/?, Jack/Ianto eventually, het and slash
Rating: NC-17 (betaed)
Summary: He left Jack on the game station. Abandoned. But then…he came back…different. An AU look on what happens if things happened differently. Doctor Who 'verse with Torchwood later on. Be sure to read the warnings.
Warnings: Please read each chapter's individual warnings. Some parts down the road may briefly mention non-con, abuse, and/or violence. Dark in the beginning. Please note there are some dark thoughts as my boys are broken…for now. Each chapter will be labeled for your convenience.
Author's Notes: Please note this is an AU that will cross over DW to TW season one. I'm probably spoiling my own story, but it will eventually be Janto. There's a bit of a journey first. I hope you enjoy. I'm working on this and intend to post regularly every other day. And again, I always believe in happy endings. So without further ado…
Disclaimer: RTD and BBC owns them. I'm just borrowing them for a while.
Warning For This Chapter: mentions past non-con/dubious consent, minor (very minor) het, verbal and mental abuse.
Prologue + Ch , Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8,
Master Fic List: here
Chapter 9
London, Canary Wharf
2006
Three days later…
Fortunately or unfortunately-depending on who you asked-things in Torchwood became too frantic, too time sensitive for everyone to gather around for lunch again. Good, because Ianto was perfectly content to be left alone to contemplate. Bad because of the exact same reason.
'…found outside Berlin making inquires about 'the Doctor'. When asked for further detail, Agent Harkness was very rude' That was crossed out. 'Impolite' That was crossed out as well. '…brief.' There was a slight tear on the paper where the then leader of Torchwood Cardiff had scribbled out recommendations to have their freelancer more closely watched.
Ianto stopped chewing on his thumbnail and straightened in his seat. He smirked to himself at Harkness' recount of twin acrobats Torchwood had suspected being alien due to their "astounding flexibility." Captain Jack Harkness was succinct in his report, ending it with a personal guarantee that he examined the twins with 'explicit attention' and concluded that the pair was not extraterrestrials. Just extraordinary.
"Well said, Captain," Ianto murmured. He could practically hear the captain's amused baritone in his head.
Ianto's smile faded. What was he doing?
With a push, Ianto nudged the file away from him. That was 1917 and the photo of a dapper dressed emcee was the exact same of the one in Lahore, eight years before. It was the same deceptively unassuming pose; loose limbed and athletic.
Same distant, longing eyes. Same sad smile.
Ianto pulled out the photo still tucked in his right jacket pocket. Lord, he was acting like Elisa. Ianto tapped the corner of the photo against his lips, deep in thought.
The intercom rang and he picked up. Ianto half-listened, sitting higher when he recognized it was the second-in-command's aide, requesting…requesting a what?
"Temporal co-duplicator?" Ianto repeated, frowning. "Yes, I know where that is located. It's in the south vault because we couldn't figure how it worked-Pardon? Um…I believe so. I'll bring it up directly."
There was a hurried farewell on the phone to end the call, more for the sake of propriety than sincerity.
Ianto tapped the photo against his mouth again. What on earth would they want those items? He recalled categorizing them-Lisa teased him for remembering everything that passed his hands-after three engineering teams had thrown up their hands in disgust. They had washed up in the Rift by Cardiff and other than having something to do with time, what they did was a mystery.
"Your job is not to question," Ianto muttered. "Even if they're all prats." He pulled the photo away and blinked at the photo. He realized he had been fanning it over his mouth, his lips just brushing across the captain's face.
Ianto turned beet-red.
That didn't count as a kiss. That didn't. This was a man for God's sake. A very male man. And Ianto was not a giggly Cryptologist from Pakistan. He was not pining for the mysterious and very male Captain Jack Hotn-Harkness! It was Harkness, confound it all!
He glanced left and right but no one was around to see him banging his head on his desk. He grumbled under his breath, rummaging around for the keycards for the necessary vaults, and hurried on his way.
It wasn't until he reached for his keycard that Ianto realized he'd tucked Harkness' photo back in his pocket.
He was greeted in the top offices like he was delivering lunch; impatient because they were waiting, grateful because no one else would do it, and dismissive because "Yes, yes, glad you were here now please sod off, we're busy."
It was only because the temporal co-duplicator required a trolley (despite it size, it was surprisingly heavy and his forehead was dripping with sweat by the time he pushed it into the lift) that Ianto was let into the meeting room. To his surprise or disgust-surprise to see him, disgusted because Director Hartman sat there looking thoroughly debauched-the Doctor stood over their director, his arms waving in grand gestures.
"Ianto Jones, how good to see you again." The Doctor clapped once as if Ianto had shot up the table and did a jig. Then, abruptly, his jovial face turned to something more…Ianto wasn't sure. But it made the hair on the back of his hands rise.
"Thank you, Mr. Jones." The Director was not as happy to see him. She sat up in her chair, patting her disheveled hair self-consciously and straightening her suit jacket as she swiveled in her seat to study the newly arrived item. "Is that it?" she asked skeptically.
The Doctor was turning one item around in his hands; how he could lift it up so easily Ianto wasn't sure. It reminded Ianto of a toaster stripped of its cover. He examined it like a perspective buyer, mouth pursed, eyes squinting as he checked for dings. "These are exactly it, Madam Director." The Doctor held it up for Ianto to see. "What do you think, Ianto Jones?"
It irked him the way the Doctor said his name-certainly nothing like the way he says it-like he deserved a patronizing pat on the head or-from what the others had been gossiping about-his bum. Ianto certainly didn't want either. He took a step back and gave him a polite smile.
"I'm not quite sure what it does, Doctor." Actually, no one did.
The Doctor flapped a hand towards him. "Of course, of course, you don't. What do you call it? You people always love giving things names."
"Temporal co-duplicator."
The Doctor barked a chuckle and spun around to the director. "Close! Oh, you were very, very close! It allows temporal fluctuations from two different times to co-exist."
Hartman looked at the oddity in his hand with renewed fascination. "Co-exist? Like today and-"
"Tomorrow! Or Yesterday and today or-"
"Wouldn't that create a paradox?" Bollocks, he hadn't meant to speak up and Director Hartman looked very crossed.
The Doctor, however, smiled broadly at him. "Very good, Ianto Jones. It would indeed create a paradox, but this will only sustain such an event for a short, short period of time. No harm and perfectly harmless to you."
"So why would you want it?"
"Mr. Jones!" Director Hartman looked about ready to explode.
Ah bugger, where was Lisa to step on his foot?
"It's alright, it's quite alright," the Doctor gestured with a placating hand towards the director. "It's a perfectly legitimate question." He cleared his throat, looking more ready to address an audience of hundreds than two. "It's harmless for you now, but I would rather have custody of this before anything…bad happens." The Doctor sat down and set the temporal device in front of him. He set both his hands on the table edge and stared at it intently.
His voice dropped to a hum as his fingers tapped out a beat to his words. "It's harmless unless you instilled dark matter from say, the Malcassairo regions and crystals from Arcateen or Bengoria, then you would have something very, oh, very powerful. A wonderful, horrible machine."
The room fell into a pregnant silence.
The Doctor looked up, blinked and his face broke out into a cheerful smile.
"Well, I say it's a good thing you won't reach any of these places for a very, very long time now, isn't it?"
It was like there was a visible "pop" in the air and Ianto found it easy to breathe again. A quick look at the director confirmed she felt the same.
"Yes," the director sounded shaken. "A good thing you came along." She gave Ianto a curt nod. "Thank you, Mr. Jones."
Seeing it as a clear dismissal, Ianto started to turn when the Doctor called out to him.
"You said you were a researcher?"
Ianto tensed as he turned back to face them by the end of the table. "Yes," he replied slowly.
The Doctor considered him between steepled fingers. "Ever considered a more active field? Say perhaps your Rift Research Department?"
"Him?" The director sounded so incredulous. Ianto shook his head.
"No." Ianto wondered why the Doctor was making employment suggestions. "I haven't considered it." Lisa had, but Ianto had no desire to wear a lab coat all day.
Hartman scrutinized him from where she sat. "Did you study physics?" she abruptly demanded.
Taken aback, Ianto could only stammered, "N-no."
"Temporal sciences? Nuclear mechanics? Astronomy? Stellar Cartography?"
"N-no, to all," Ianto blustered.
The Doctor grinned at her. "See? Perfect." He leaned forward and whispered something in her ear, his fingertips dancing over her knuckles. Ianto looked away.
"Yes, well." Hartman cleared her throat. "Have your application forward to your supervisor and Abigail. I'll review it myself."
"But, I wasn't inter-"
"That will be all, Jones, thank you."
Ianto turned around again, wondering sourly if Lisa had slipped the Doctor a few quid to box him into applying.
"Actually, Ianto Jones, wait."
Oh, what now? Ianto started when he saw the Doctor darted in front of him and pressed a key in his hand.
"Before you retreat to your nice, quiet dungeon, I was wondering if you would fetch my companion from my ship? Here's the key. You may have to jam it in there; I'm always having trouble with the old thing. The Captain may be sleeping in." The skin crawling feeling returned when the Doctor's mouth curved slightly. "I'm afraid we may have worn him out yesterday."
Behind him, Ianto could have sworn he heard the director snicker. The smile he gave the Doctor, however, was sincere.
"I would be happy to," Ianto told him.
As he left the meeting room, Ianto told himself he was walking so quickly because he was glad to escape there.
The guards, as soon as they saw the temporary badge from the director, let Ianto in the cargo bay room, without protest. They sat back down in their stations, their feet going up and down noisily on the floor. Ianto could hear their rhythmic tapping following him in.
The police box was exactly where he remembered it, sitting among the crates from Torchwood Cardiff. Even the loop where Ianto's foot had snagged on the Caution tape (not his finest moment) was still limp on the floor.
Ianto paused by the police box. He straightened his tie, ran a hand through his hair, then realized what he was doing, blushed, raised his fist and knocked.
Then, he waited.
And waited.
Ianto frowned and looked down at the key in his hand. Taking a deep breath, Ianto inserted the key, surprised it slipped in easily, contrary to the Doctor's complaint.
Even though it wasn't his first time in here, the girth that opened up and welcomed him was still enough to make him pause one foot into the chamber.
"Hello?" It felt odd to be walking in like this. There was a phone outside the police box. Should he have called first?
"Captain Harkness? Uh…it's Ianto Jones calling?" Good Lord, what was the proper etiquette for visiting a spaceship? "Pardon the intrusion. Sir? Captain?"
The main chamber was silent; discomfortingly so. It felt unnatural that the place was this silent. The lighting was dim, but still bright enough to reveal there was absolutely no one inside.
Ianto stared at the door he spied open to his right. It was open and he was to fetch-Ianto hated the word-Captain Harkness. And he was an employee of Torchwood. He should properly investigate this…this…police box?
Ianto headed for the door. He paused briefly at the cool-feeling pink-golden coral winding down the corridors. Another deep breath for nerves, Ianto pushed forward.
Lorrie would have a fit if she knew he was in here again, Ianto mused, wishing he’d thought to get a camera mobile like Lisa had. Although Lisa had the tendency to pop up out of nowhere and take the most embarrassing pictures of him.
He stood in front of an odd room, almost as large as the central chamber, the core a towering circular cage that glowed red. It didn't look finished but its pulse made Ianto uneasy. He backed away and went deeper down the lengthy hallway.
There was one door left, partially open, and quietly, Ianto knocked, offering a hesitant, "Captain?" before slipping through the door to a dim area.
The open door gave some light, the crack serving a thin beam of light that shone on the lump on a bed, facing away from Ianto. The lump didn't move, huddled under a duvet; the mop of dark hair peeking out on top was the only clue Ianto had.
Ianto swallowed, approaching closer even as common sense told him it was rather impolite to wake someone you hardly knew-human or alien.
"Captain?" Ianto whispered, edging closer and closer until he stood by the bed. Ianto stretched out a hand, retracted it, then reached out again, giving the covered shoulder a hasty tap before he took a few steps back.
The answering stir was followed with a sleepy "D-doctor?" The lump moved and Jack Harkness groaned a little. "…don't…"
"Uh, sorry, Captain…I…it's Ianto Jones, sir. The Doctor asked if I could come fe-escort you to the meeting room upstairs."
The lump was rigid the moment Ianto spoke but relaxed moments later. Half-mast eyes looked over his shoulder, squinting at the sliver of light on his face.
"Who?" Harkness still sounded confused.
Ianto shifted from foot to foot. "Ianto Jones, sir. We uh, met a few days befo-" His voice died into a squeak when Harkness sat up groggily, the blanket sliding off his nude shoulders and spilling onto his equally nude lap.
"I-I-I'll wait outside while you dress, sir," Ianto stammered, dismayed he sounded like he was twelve again.
Harkness tilted his head and twisted around to frown at Ianto. There was open concern for whatever he saw on Ianto's face and Harkness braced his hands on his knees.
"Oh, no, no, no!" Ianto balked. "Don't get up!" The last thing he needed was a six foot naked alien emblazed into his mind. Harkness' photo still burned a hole in his pocket. "I'll…I'll…" Ianto pointed to the door with his thumb, reversing until his back struck the door.
Harkness finally understood, looked down-good Lord, the blanket slipped further and exposed a broad, flawless muscled back-and Harkness said "Ah."
"I forgot you people are still…shy." Harkness chuckled throatily and oh, the humiliation, he made a point to turn back around and pulled the covers higher on himself. "Sorry." His voice was heavy with fatigue but the amusement was still there. "I'll get changed now. Thanks."
"I'll…" Ianto gulped when Harkness moved to gather the covers around him and revealed a glimpse of pale buttocks, curved just so that made him wonder if they would fit within the palms of his hands like L-Outside! Now! Out, out, out!
"Outside!" Ianto blurted out, just shy of shouting and despite Harkness' perplexed look, Ianto squeezed out of the partially opened door.
Ianto wheezed, one hand to his forehead and he leaned heavily next to the door. He tugged at his tie with the other hand, panting, his mouth dry.
Good Lord, that was…completely unexpected, utterly, absolutely-
There was a dull thud inside and Ianto jerked. He straightened and darted back inside before he realized he was doing it.
"Captain?" he asked anxiously, already going around the bed just as Harkness weakly grabbed at the bed to pull himself up.
"'m okay," Harkness muttered, his blue eyes were cloudy when he looked at Ianto. The blanket pooled around his ankles but Ianto didn't notice now as he slipped his hands around Harkness' arms. Ianto's frown deepened. Harkness' skin was too cool to his liking.
"No, let me help you," Ianto insisted as he pulled the captain back up to the bed. He could feel the captain trembling minutely and Ianto didn't mind when he felt Harkness sag against him for a brief second. Ianto grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around the captain. He peered up at Harkness' face, dismayed to find that those vivid blue eyes he recalled were glazed and unfocused. "We have a medic on the vicinity. I can-"
"No," Harkness groaned. He braced his forehead with his hand. He swallowed convulsively and offered Ianto a shaky and unconvincing smile.
"It'll pass. It always does." Harkness inhaled sharply. He wrapped the covers around himself and looked a little lost. "I just stood up too quickly. Let me go change and-"
"Where are your clothes?" Ianto said abruptly, getting to his feet.
"What?" Startled, Harkness stared at him as Ianto felt around, bumping into what felt like a wardrobe. "What are you doing?"
Ianto opened the closet and squinted at the contents. "Clothes," he declared as he sorted through the hung articles with a finger. He leaned past the open door and looked at the huddled figure on the bed. Harkness looked at him, bewildered. Ianto's stomach did an odd flip and he ducked his head back into the closet. Quickly, he grabbed a blue shirt. "Like you said, we're still shy and really not prepared for you to parade around…uh…unclothed." He was unprepared. Ianto walked over, making a point to look past Harkness' shoulder because the blanket wasn't covering…everything.
Silently, Ianto raised the shirt and white tee up for Harkness' inspection. The captain nodded wearily and grabbed it off the hanger. Like an old man, the captain slipped on the white t-shirt over his head, then shrugged into the button shirt.
After watching Harkness' fingers miss the button for the third time, Ianto tsked, dropped to his knees and pushed Harkness' fingers away.
"You're getting them all wrong," Ianto muttered and he slipped the buttons through their holes one by one.
"I don't need a butler." Good humor crept in but the exhaustion was still audible. The captain fumbled for the next button with little success.
"Apparently," Ianto remarked. "There's a shirt in there in dire need of ironing."
"There hasn't been much time to do chores," Harkness joked faintly. "With all that traveling through time and space."
"Hm…regardless, surely even aliens have some sense of decorum." Ianto noted the buttons were not the plastic kind, high quality, well detailed. His father, a master tailor, had taught him to recognize the handcraft of the crisp cotton.
"Hate to tell you," Harkness rasped. "I'm human…sort of."
Ianto blinked up at the captain and met a very intense stare. He lowered his eyes. "Oh."
"Disappointed?" Harkness quipped.
Ianto looked up at the sad twist of the captain's mouth. He was glad it was too dark for him to see Ianto blush.
"No," Ianto said evenly. "Not really." He placed his hands on strong shoulders when Harkness slumped.
"Are you unwell, Captain?" Ianto asked softly. Harkness felt solid, warm even under layers of cotton and Ianto was surprised how hard it was to pull away.
There were fathoms in Jack Harkness' eyes when he replied emotionlessly, "You could say that."
"Truly, I can get a medic here-"
"There's nothing anyone can do," Harkness interrupted, his voice harsh. "Nothing! I can't be helped!"
Ianto found himself reaching out to the crack in Harkness' voice. He dropped his hands on top of the covers, over Harkness' knees.
"I'm sorry," Ianto said quietly. His chest tightened when Harkness raised his dull gaze at him.
"Shouldn't I be saying that?" The Captain straightened and he sighed as he reached down for his shirt.
"I'll finish that," Ianto pulled the captain's hands away. "Just catch your breath. I'll do it."
Ianto's fingers could feel the stitching of his shirt and he looped each button all the way until his finger brushed across under Harkness' Adam's apple.
Ianto cleared his throat. He pulled his hands away from the top button and the temptation to smooth his hand across Harkness' throat. He sat back on his heels. "All done."
Harkness looked at him strangely, as if puzzled when Ianto didn't do what he expected Ianto might do.
Ianto cleared his throat again, slipped a finger behind his tie knot to tug it loose and went back to the wardrobe. "Trousers," he managed to keep his voice steady. He didn't want to think about how warm his fingers felt as they brushed against Harkness as he did up the buttons or how his chest bumped against the captain's bare knees as he knelt there. Ianto pulled out one and paused.
"Um…do you…er…" Ianto passed the trousers without looking at Harkness. "Underpants?"
"Why?" There was a bitter note in Harkness' voice, almost resigned. "He'll just-" Harkness' voice firmed. "I can take it from here."
"Are you sure?" Ianto stared at the slouched back, unsure why he couldn't bring himself to leave. He should. He should walk out the door and wait for him outside. It was the proper thing to do.
"I'll see you outside."
Ianto had a feeling Harkness meant the police box, not the room. Ianto lingered, hesitant but when the captain didn't turn around, Ianto nodded and quietly slipped out.
He still looked cold.
Ianto studied the captain surreptitiously from his corner of the elevator. Harkness leaned against the opposite corner, staring at the doors and the numbers that gradually climbed to where the director and Doctor waited.
The photo sitting heavy in his pocket reminded Ianto of the image he studied so often. It held a more vibrant Captain Jack Harkness than the one standing next to him.
"Are you sure you wouldn't prefer to go somewhere else?" Ianto asked quietly. He raised his gaze and stared at the profile before him.
Harkness gave a strained laugh. "Believe me, I do." Harkness turned his head, resting it on the elevator wall as he considered Ianto.
"Don't you owe me a tour of this place?" The captain smiled wanly at Ianto.
Keeping his eyes on the lit button, Ianto rolled his eyes. "Very well. How about a tour of our lovely infirmary?"
Harkness laughed and Ianto was heartened to hear it was stronger than before. Perhaps the captain was feeling better. He leaned over, crossing into Ianto's space. Ianto closed his eyes and thought he could smell something; heady, musky, definitely masculine yet equally alluring. His eyes flew open when he realized he was leaning a little towards the captain. Ianto snapped back up, yelping when the back of his head struck the elevator wall loud enough to have it thud hollowly.
Blue eyes slid over to him. "Are you okay?"
Ianto grimaced, his hand to the back of his head. "Yes, I-What are you doing?"
"How about a tour?" Harkness gave him a bright smile over his shoulder before he stared at the buttons. "Which floor's more interesting? This one? How about this one?" With a sudden impish glee of a tot, the captain pressed one button then another.
"Stop-stop that!" Ianto groaned as he tried to shoulder past the captain, but too late, almost every floor was lit. "You can't do that!"
"I gave you a tour," the captain pointed out, his eyes sparkled like a clear sky. It was impossible to be angry with him.
"You showed me one room," Ianto laughed. He swatted the captain's hand when he tried to press the last remaining unlit floor. "One room, captain. That's hardly fair."
"Ah, but it was one great room and how do I know you didn't give yourself a tour before?"
"I did," Ianto admitted, still smiling. "But I had no idea what I was looking at." Except for the last room.
"Still, I think this warrants a tour of each room."
"We have 637 rooms."
Harkness stared at him. "I'm not going to ask how you even know that. That many, hm? Well, we better get started then." The doors opened and Harkness made to exit, but Ianto snagged the back of his greatcoat.
"Oh no, you don't," Ianto chuckled. "I'm under orders to fetch you to the Doctor and my director, not to go gallivanting around Canary Wharf."
Ianto realized his mistake when Harkness froze, then back away from the doors. He leaned heavily on the wall next to Ianto.
"Well, if that's the case," Harkness said, subdued. "I guess we better go see the Doctor."
Ianto's hand dropped from his coat. "I…" Somehow, saying sorry felt too insincere. "Perhaps another time?"
There was no anger in Harkness' expression when he turned towards him. "Sure. Next time." He looked resigned and when the captain faced back the elevator doors, he said nothing more.
Damn, damn, damn. Ianto didn't know what to say to recapture that warm bubble he felt between them. Opening his ruddy mouth dispelled the casual air in the elevator. Ianto stared, miserable at Harkness' blank expression, the captain's shoulders growing stiffer as they went higher and higher. Harkness now flinched when the doors opened, then shut with a hiss.
It was five floors before their destination when Harkness tried to hide a shudder. It made up Ianto's mind.
"Sod it," Ianto muttered and at the next floor, he didn't think about it; he grabbed the edge of the captain's right sleeve and dragged him out of the elevator.
"Uh…" The captain sounded bewildered but he followed nevertheless. "This is not our floor."
"No," Ianto said, his eyes fixed on the new elevator. He tugged Harkness' sleeve, practically dragging him into the new one when it opened.
"So where are we going?"
Ianto stabbed at the button and kept his eyes on it. "We're going downstairs," Ianto half pleaded as he let go of the greatcoat's sleeve. "Now shut up before I change my mind."
Captain Jack Harkness shut up.
Chapter 10
Additional Notes:Many thanks to snakeling for betaing this chapter long ago. Yes, I finally finished and can start reporting! Huzzah! LOL.