Turning Point - 7/64
Title: Turning Point
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairings: budding Jack/Ianto, references to past Ianto/Lisa
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: If I was the one who owned Torchwood, you think I'd admit it now?
Spoilers: Some information and events from s1,2. NONE for s3.
Summary: In the aftermath of Lisa's death, Ianto is struggling to cope - and new surprises don't help matters much. Can his friends on the team at Torchwood help him carry on?
Author's Note: Sequel to Guilt.
Thanks to: My lovely beta cazmalfoy, angelzbabe1989 for idea bouncing, and morbid_sparks for cheerleading even when she doesn't know what happens.
Previous chapters at master list
Author's Note 2: The current auctions for help_haiti end tomorrow, so bid now and support a good cause! (My thread is here)
Chapter Seven
Jack really should have known better than to tempt fate over the brief lull in Weevil incidents. The call, reporting what a member of the public thought were ‘two large, rabid… somethings’ down near the old docks, came in just a few hours later.
Tosh started a complete set of detailed scans, covering the entire city, before she, Jack and Owen ran out to deal with them, leaving Ianto to watch over the scans and alert them to any significant movement of their quarry. Suzie stayed behind too, to go through the myriad of items from the box Ianto had pulled from the archives.
Most of the scans were still running when they returned - thankfully uninjured and with two unconscious Weevils in tow - nearly an hour later. Those that had finished had turned up nothing unusual. Ianto postulated out loud that it was possible that if there was some specific cause that might be picked up on the scans, it was a very temporary effect - by the time the Weevils were out in the open enough to be reported, the signal would have disappeared. He wasn’t sure if he was pleased or dismayed when Tosh agreed that it was a very real possibility.
“Some of the scans could probably be left running full time for a bit, though,” Tosh mused. “It would be a little bit of extra work on the mainframe, but nowhere near enough to make a huge difference. Maybe next time we’ll get something.”
“Fingers crossed,” Ianto said, just as Owen rejoined them from the cells.
Jack looked down at his watch and blinked. “Right,” he announced, in what Ianto privately called his ‘Captain voice’, “it’s Friday, it’s already past six, it’s been a long day, and none of this is particularly urgent. All of you go home. Or go out, or whatever you want. Just go.”
He turned his head and yelled down at where Suzie was still working, surrounded by various items as she studied on in the centre of the table. “That includes you, Suzie!”
“What does?” she called back, having tuned out the previous conversation completely.
“Go home!” Jack shouted firmly. “Unless there’s an emergency - in which case I will call you - I don’t want to see any of you until at least ten tomorrow morning.”
Owen hurried to collect his things, never one to turn down the opportunity for a night off; he chivvied Tosh along too. They clattered out of the cog door together, and Owen could be heard challenging Tosh to a game of pool at a nearby pub as they left.
Suzie followed them more slowly, clearly reluctant to be torn away from her research and forced out into the wider world for the night.
Ianto turned as if to head back down to the archives. Jack caught him gently by the shoulders before he could take a single step in that direction. “You too, Ianto.”
Ianto spun back to face him. “But…” Jack had been forcing him home earlier lately, and he’d actually been okay with it, but ‘earlier’ until now had meant nine or ten o’clock. Late enough that he could climb into bed with a book for company and avoid having to think about the emptiness of his flat; the emptiness that wasn’t about to be filled.
Going home now would mean forcing himself to eat something in his tiny kitchenette. Finding something to occupy the hours before he could justify going to bed and curling up under his duvet.
He wasn’t sure he wanted to admit to Jack that he didn’t know if he was ready to cope with that quite yet. If he wanted to admit that, given a whole evening alone in his flat with no work to keep him busy, he was worried he might just break down and sob in a heap on the floor.
Although he didn’t finish his sentence, Jack clearly noticed that Ianto was more than a little hesitant to head home for the evening.
Jack looked around the place thoughtfully, and Ianto was surprised when his next comment showed that perhaps he understood how Ianto was feeling better that he’d thought. “How about I come with you?” he said, his tone forcibly light. “Grab some takeaway, shove on a DVD. Give us both a bit of company.”
Ianto nodded gratefully. “Yeah,” he breathed, relieved that the evening might not turn out to be a nightmare after all. “That would be good.”
Chapter Eight
Comments and concrit are loved!
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairings: budding Jack/Ianto, references to past Ianto/Lisa
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: If I was the one who owned Torchwood, you think I'd admit it now?
Spoilers: Some information and events from s1,2. NONE for s3.
Summary: In the aftermath of Lisa's death, Ianto is struggling to cope - and new surprises don't help matters much. Can his friends on the team at Torchwood help him carry on?
Author's Note: Sequel to Guilt.
Thanks to: My lovely beta cazmalfoy, angelzbabe1989 for idea bouncing, and morbid_sparks for cheerleading even when she doesn't know what happens.
Previous chapters at master list
Author's Note 2: The current auctions for help_haiti end tomorrow, so bid now and support a good cause! (My thread is here)
Chapter Seven
Jack really should have known better than to tempt fate over the brief lull in Weevil incidents. The call, reporting what a member of the public thought were ‘two large, rabid… somethings’ down near the old docks, came in just a few hours later.
Tosh started a complete set of detailed scans, covering the entire city, before she, Jack and Owen ran out to deal with them, leaving Ianto to watch over the scans and alert them to any significant movement of their quarry. Suzie stayed behind too, to go through the myriad of items from the box Ianto had pulled from the archives.
Most of the scans were still running when they returned - thankfully uninjured and with two unconscious Weevils in tow - nearly an hour later. Those that had finished had turned up nothing unusual. Ianto postulated out loud that it was possible that if there was some specific cause that might be picked up on the scans, it was a very temporary effect - by the time the Weevils were out in the open enough to be reported, the signal would have disappeared. He wasn’t sure if he was pleased or dismayed when Tosh agreed that it was a very real possibility.
“Some of the scans could probably be left running full time for a bit, though,” Tosh mused. “It would be a little bit of extra work on the mainframe, but nowhere near enough to make a huge difference. Maybe next time we’ll get something.”
“Fingers crossed,” Ianto said, just as Owen rejoined them from the cells.
Jack looked down at his watch and blinked. “Right,” he announced, in what Ianto privately called his ‘Captain voice’, “it’s Friday, it’s already past six, it’s been a long day, and none of this is particularly urgent. All of you go home. Or go out, or whatever you want. Just go.”
He turned his head and yelled down at where Suzie was still working, surrounded by various items as she studied on in the centre of the table. “That includes you, Suzie!”
“What does?” she called back, having tuned out the previous conversation completely.
“Go home!” Jack shouted firmly. “Unless there’s an emergency - in which case I will call you - I don’t want to see any of you until at least ten tomorrow morning.”
Owen hurried to collect his things, never one to turn down the opportunity for a night off; he chivvied Tosh along too. They clattered out of the cog door together, and Owen could be heard challenging Tosh to a game of pool at a nearby pub as they left.
Suzie followed them more slowly, clearly reluctant to be torn away from her research and forced out into the wider world for the night.
Ianto turned as if to head back down to the archives. Jack caught him gently by the shoulders before he could take a single step in that direction. “You too, Ianto.”
Ianto spun back to face him. “But…” Jack had been forcing him home earlier lately, and he’d actually been okay with it, but ‘earlier’ until now had meant nine or ten o’clock. Late enough that he could climb into bed with a book for company and avoid having to think about the emptiness of his flat; the emptiness that wasn’t about to be filled.
Going home now would mean forcing himself to eat something in his tiny kitchenette. Finding something to occupy the hours before he could justify going to bed and curling up under his duvet.
He wasn’t sure he wanted to admit to Jack that he didn’t know if he was ready to cope with that quite yet. If he wanted to admit that, given a whole evening alone in his flat with no work to keep him busy, he was worried he might just break down and sob in a heap on the floor.
Although he didn’t finish his sentence, Jack clearly noticed that Ianto was more than a little hesitant to head home for the evening.
Jack looked around the place thoughtfully, and Ianto was surprised when his next comment showed that perhaps he understood how Ianto was feeling better that he’d thought. “How about I come with you?” he said, his tone forcibly light. “Grab some takeaway, shove on a DVD. Give us both a bit of company.”
Ianto nodded gratefully. “Yeah,” he breathed, relieved that the evening might not turn out to be a nightmare after all. “That would be good.”
Chapter Eight
Comments and concrit are loved!