Deviations from the Norm -- Stranger Things Have Happened
Title: Deviations from the Norm
Chapter Fourteen: Stranger Things Have Happened
dwtwprompts prompt: Power
Date Written: 6/23/08
Rating: PG-13/T
Word Count: 1,684
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Characters/Pairings: Jack/Ianto, Doctor, OCs
Spoilers: Torchwood 01 & 02, Doctor Who 04
Warnings: None
Author's Notes: IS IT SATURDAY YET?!
All of this can be blamed on totally4ryo. Set somewhere in the first few years of Ianto and Jack's marriage, after Emiko's born.
Previous chapters found here.
Jack had seen a lot of things in his lifetime. Most were amazing. A few were stunning. There were even things that he couldn't explain himself.
Watching a lover's mother have a full-on conversation with thin air was something he'd never, ever seen.
Ceri Jones was smiling at blank air, sitting at the kitchen table and stirring her coffee idly. She would talk for a few moments, then pause, cocking her head to one side and 'listening' to whatever was calling her.
"Does your mother have a metal plate in her head?" Jack asked in a low voice as Ianto walked up behind him. The Captain was lingering in the doorway, his empty coffee mug in hand.
Ianto frowned a little before looking over at his mother, who had just burst into girlish giggles. "Oh! Mam's border-line schizophrenic. We think." The Welshman tapped his chin. "I need to mention that to Toshiko, actually."
"You think?"
Ianto shrugged. "She's always seen things that aren't there. Some days I'm convinced it's all in her head, other days I'm nearly convinced I can see it too." He grinned at Jack's look of disbelief. "Her visions aren't all that disruptive, and they're not violent. She's never had herself tested for mental illness."
"And you just let it... go untreated?"
Ianto fought down the urge to bristle. Jack did just have his mother's best interests at heart. "She's fully-functioning, and doesn't want medication or therapy. She thinks they're visions, psychic power is a facet of her religion.." The younger immortal took the mug from Jack, stepping into the kitchen and crossing over to the dishwasher.
Ceri's face split into a huge grin. "This is my youngest son, Ianto," she introduced.
Ianto turned and gave a polite smile that Jack knew very well. That explained where he'd picked it up. "It's nice to meet you," he said, nodding his head before turning back to the dishwasher.
There was a pause, and Ceri laughed. "Oh, he's very cute, isn't he? But I'm afraid he's taken." She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. "That's his lover, Jack Harkness."
Jack was surprised for a moment, blue eyes going wide. He hadn't thought that Ceri had heard him.
The older woman turned, raising her dark eyebrows in expectation. "Don't keep him waiting," she scolded.
His eyes cut over to Ianto, who tipped his head to the side, his body language clearly saying humor her.
Jack stood straight, pushing off from the door frame and gave a smile at the blank air over Ceri's shoulder. "It's a pleasure."
Yeah.
Weirdest thing to happen in quite a while.
Over the Doctor's long travel history, he'd had many psychic Companions. Susan and Romana, of course, were the top of the list -- being of the same race and having had the same training at the Academy, communicating psychically with them had been as easy as breathing. There were days when he missed that contact, yearned for it. The mother of his children and their beautiful offspring had always been a yammering in his head, and at times he joked that he'd give anything for a moment's true peace.
When their voices were silenced, it nearly killed him.
Most races had some sort of latent psychic power. Humans, especially, were rather adept at tapping into it when they wanted to. Or when they didn't want to, Pompeii had been a perfect example. There was something about the TARDIS, however, that seemed to exploit that power: weaseling her way into their Companion's brains and translating languages. Figuring out what her travelers want and making them happy. Allowing Rose Tyler and later Ianto Jones to look into her Heart, giving them the powers of a god.
When Rose came along he'd been alone so long her voice had been blaring. She'd been untrained and open and she'd brought so much baggage with her, the boyfriend and the mother shrieking in the back of her mind and blinding him. It had been fantastic.
Jack, the bastard, had grown up when human psychic power had been exploited for so long it was active. Children in the 51st century were trained at a very early age, even those born in the outposts like Jack had been. There were rules and regulations about entering and abusing minds, which most people followed. There were the rogues, of course, but they were usually caught and prosecuted as fiercely as those that violated civil rights on more basic levels.
Jack had pushed those boundaries, nudged and poked and prodded but never overstepped the boundaries. He'd obviously been attracted to both Rose and the Doctor, and would spend hours and hours and hours on end projecting all sorts of salacious thoughts at the both of them. Then he'd grin whenever one of them got flushed.
Bastard.
Martha and Donna had been opened by the TARDIS, but they hadn't had Jack's training, or been on as long as Rose had, hadn't had the whole of Existence in their heads like she had. After he'd regenerated and gotten steady on his feet, he'd felt Rose so clearly in his head (helped along, he suspected, by the TARDIS. the cheeky girl).
Ianto Jones had been different. Pleasantly different. The Welshman had natural talent, which was only fostered with his link with Jack. He seemed to have a natural barrier too, one he'd never seen before. Psychic barriers were projected, mostly image-based: most barriers were walls made of various materials, depending on how guarded the person wanted to be. Ianto's was more like golden smoke, a thick fog swirling around his psyche, making anyone looking for a way in without his permission get lost. The Doctor had once needed to get into Ianto's mind when they were traveling, and he'd had to be saved by Jack. The older immortal was a natural inside the fog, the mist parting before him. Or maybe more he was at home within his soul mate's mind, both of them together the way they'd made themselves to be.
Koko -- Emiko Sato, later Emiko Jones and much later Emiko Williams -- had blown him away. She had her father's natural talents coupled with personal training by her beloved Uncle Jack and the new Torchwood One, who reveled in the psychics they attracted. Hers was a border-line Time Lord talent, intelligence coupled with foresight that combined for an almost scary traveling experience. She knew what was going to happen practically moments before it did. It was disturbing. And more disturbing was that half the time he wasn't sure if it was her talents or just her being brilliant.
She made him long for the Academy. He'd petition for her to be put in there instantly. The teachers would have adored her.
He asked her once, when they'd first been traveling together and he still didn't realize who she was. She'd shrugged, fiddling with the TARDIS controls. "Mum always said I got it from my Dad's side."
"And who's he?"
"Dunno," she said with another shrug, suddenly intent on her work.
"Oh." The Doctor watched her over the rims of his glasses. "So. Where to next?"
Jack and Ianto had an odd sort of psychic link. The Doctor commented on it a few times, and Jack had made enough links himself to know that this one was completely different than any other.
For one, it was insanely easy. It had formed practically before either of them had realized it was there: one moment Jack's voice in the back of his head sounded like his mother, and the next thing he knows it's Ianto's sweet voice nagging at him to behave.
It was also incredibly simplistic. Which, he thought on reflection, was probably the way to go. For the most part they kept their thoughts to themselves, occasional thoughts or images or emotions slipping through to the other. When they did communicate to one another it was primarily through emotions, their minds pressing against each other so feather-soft that it wasn't even an effort.
Ianto liked to tease Jack when things were slow at work, projecting stark-raving lust and snatches of the two of them twined into some sort of impossibly erotic position. He'd combine them with the smoldering look Jack could never, ever resist, teasing and taunting him all day until Jack lost his mind, kick the team out of the Hub and fuck him senseless against the nearest surface.
It had been after one such day when Jack had asked his husband a question that had been nagging at the back of his mind. "Yan? Have you ever been psychically tested?"
The Welshman had laughed a little, still breathless, his head falling back onto Jack's desk. "We all got tested at One, Jack. Did you even read my CV?"
Jack grinned and kissed his neck. "If by CV you mean that gorgeous Welsh ass in that suit..."
Ianto smacked him on the shoulder lightly. "Knew it."
Jack grinned and propped himself up onto his elbows. "Seriously."
"Yes, Jack. Seriously." Ianto smiled and ran his fingers through Jack's hair. "Torchwood One had levels, Alpha through Epsilon, then Zeta for the nulls."
"That's... very terrifyingly Huxley."
"Didn't get the sex orgies until I got here, sir."
Jack grinned and rolled his hips against Ianto's, laughing at the resulting gasp. "And what level were you, Mr. Harkness-Jones?"
"Epsilon."
"The lowest score?" Jack asked, pulling back again. "I find that hard to believe. You're a natural!"
"The old regime wasn't keen on psychics," he said quietly, running his fingers down Jack's spine. "Higher level psychics were given sudden promotions."
Jack shivered, and it wasn't from the sensation Ianto's fingers were pulling from him. Self-preservation. "What about your siblings?"
"The boys show traits from time to time. So do Nonny and Tegan."
"And your mother," Jack added, almost as an afterthought.
"Mam?" Ianto looked up at him, eyebrows knitting together.
"Her visions." Jack smiled, kissing the underside of his jaw. "There are theories that schizophrenia is sometimes mistaken for psychic visions."
"You think so?"
The Captain just shrugged. "We've seen weirder things before."
Chapter Fourteen: Stranger Things Have Happened
dwtwprompts prompt: Power
Date Written: 6/23/08
Rating: PG-13/T
Word Count: 1,684
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Characters/Pairings: Jack/Ianto, Doctor, OCs
Spoilers: Torchwood 01 & 02, Doctor Who 04
Warnings: None
Author's Notes: IS IT SATURDAY YET?!
All of this can be blamed on totally4ryo. Set somewhere in the first few years of Ianto and Jack's marriage, after Emiko's born.
Previous chapters found here.
Jack had seen a lot of things in his lifetime. Most were amazing. A few were stunning. There were even things that he couldn't explain himself.
Watching a lover's mother have a full-on conversation with thin air was something he'd never, ever seen.
Ceri Jones was smiling at blank air, sitting at the kitchen table and stirring her coffee idly. She would talk for a few moments, then pause, cocking her head to one side and 'listening' to whatever was calling her.
"Does your mother have a metal plate in her head?" Jack asked in a low voice as Ianto walked up behind him. The Captain was lingering in the doorway, his empty coffee mug in hand.
Ianto frowned a little before looking over at his mother, who had just burst into girlish giggles. "Oh! Mam's border-line schizophrenic. We think." The Welshman tapped his chin. "I need to mention that to Toshiko, actually."
"You think?"
Ianto shrugged. "She's always seen things that aren't there. Some days I'm convinced it's all in her head, other days I'm nearly convinced I can see it too." He grinned at Jack's look of disbelief. "Her visions aren't all that disruptive, and they're not violent. She's never had herself tested for mental illness."
"And you just let it... go untreated?"
Ianto fought down the urge to bristle. Jack did just have his mother's best interests at heart. "She's fully-functioning, and doesn't want medication or therapy. She thinks they're visions, psychic power is a facet of her religion.." The younger immortal took the mug from Jack, stepping into the kitchen and crossing over to the dishwasher.
Ceri's face split into a huge grin. "This is my youngest son, Ianto," she introduced.
Ianto turned and gave a polite smile that Jack knew very well. That explained where he'd picked it up. "It's nice to meet you," he said, nodding his head before turning back to the dishwasher.
There was a pause, and Ceri laughed. "Oh, he's very cute, isn't he? But I'm afraid he's taken." She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. "That's his lover, Jack Harkness."
Jack was surprised for a moment, blue eyes going wide. He hadn't thought that Ceri had heard him.
The older woman turned, raising her dark eyebrows in expectation. "Don't keep him waiting," she scolded.
His eyes cut over to Ianto, who tipped his head to the side, his body language clearly saying humor her.
Jack stood straight, pushing off from the door frame and gave a smile at the blank air over Ceri's shoulder. "It's a pleasure."
Yeah.
Weirdest thing to happen in quite a while.
Over the Doctor's long travel history, he'd had many psychic Companions. Susan and Romana, of course, were the top of the list -- being of the same race and having had the same training at the Academy, communicating psychically with them had been as easy as breathing. There were days when he missed that contact, yearned for it. The mother of his children and their beautiful offspring had always been a yammering in his head, and at times he joked that he'd give anything for a moment's true peace.
When their voices were silenced, it nearly killed him.
Most races had some sort of latent psychic power. Humans, especially, were rather adept at tapping into it when they wanted to. Or when they didn't want to, Pompeii had been a perfect example. There was something about the TARDIS, however, that seemed to exploit that power: weaseling her way into their Companion's brains and translating languages. Figuring out what her travelers want and making them happy. Allowing Rose Tyler and later Ianto Jones to look into her Heart, giving them the powers of a god.
When Rose came along he'd been alone so long her voice had been blaring. She'd been untrained and open and she'd brought so much baggage with her, the boyfriend and the mother shrieking in the back of her mind and blinding him. It had been fantastic.
Jack, the bastard, had grown up when human psychic power had been exploited for so long it was active. Children in the 51st century were trained at a very early age, even those born in the outposts like Jack had been. There were rules and regulations about entering and abusing minds, which most people followed. There were the rogues, of course, but they were usually caught and prosecuted as fiercely as those that violated civil rights on more basic levels.
Jack had pushed those boundaries, nudged and poked and prodded but never overstepped the boundaries. He'd obviously been attracted to both Rose and the Doctor, and would spend hours and hours and hours on end projecting all sorts of salacious thoughts at the both of them. Then he'd grin whenever one of them got flushed.
Bastard.
Martha and Donna had been opened by the TARDIS, but they hadn't had Jack's training, or been on as long as Rose had, hadn't had the whole of Existence in their heads like she had. After he'd regenerated and gotten steady on his feet, he'd felt Rose so clearly in his head (helped along, he suspected, by the TARDIS. the cheeky girl).
Ianto Jones had been different. Pleasantly different. The Welshman had natural talent, which was only fostered with his link with Jack. He seemed to have a natural barrier too, one he'd never seen before. Psychic barriers were projected, mostly image-based: most barriers were walls made of various materials, depending on how guarded the person wanted to be. Ianto's was more like golden smoke, a thick fog swirling around his psyche, making anyone looking for a way in without his permission get lost. The Doctor had once needed to get into Ianto's mind when they were traveling, and he'd had to be saved by Jack. The older immortal was a natural inside the fog, the mist parting before him. Or maybe more he was at home within his soul mate's mind, both of them together the way they'd made themselves to be.
Koko -- Emiko Sato, later Emiko Jones and much later Emiko Williams -- had blown him away. She had her father's natural talents coupled with personal training by her beloved Uncle Jack and the new Torchwood One, who reveled in the psychics they attracted. Hers was a border-line Time Lord talent, intelligence coupled with foresight that combined for an almost scary traveling experience. She knew what was going to happen practically moments before it did. It was disturbing. And more disturbing was that half the time he wasn't sure if it was her talents or just her being brilliant.
She made him long for the Academy. He'd petition for her to be put in there instantly. The teachers would have adored her.
He asked her once, when they'd first been traveling together and he still didn't realize who she was. She'd shrugged, fiddling with the TARDIS controls. "Mum always said I got it from my Dad's side."
"And who's he?"
"Dunno," she said with another shrug, suddenly intent on her work.
"Oh." The Doctor watched her over the rims of his glasses. "So. Where to next?"
Jack and Ianto had an odd sort of psychic link. The Doctor commented on it a few times, and Jack had made enough links himself to know that this one was completely different than any other.
For one, it was insanely easy. It had formed practically before either of them had realized it was there: one moment Jack's voice in the back of his head sounded like his mother, and the next thing he knows it's Ianto's sweet voice nagging at him to behave.
It was also incredibly simplistic. Which, he thought on reflection, was probably the way to go. For the most part they kept their thoughts to themselves, occasional thoughts or images or emotions slipping through to the other. When they did communicate to one another it was primarily through emotions, their minds pressing against each other so feather-soft that it wasn't even an effort.
Ianto liked to tease Jack when things were slow at work, projecting stark-raving lust and snatches of the two of them twined into some sort of impossibly erotic position. He'd combine them with the smoldering look Jack could never, ever resist, teasing and taunting him all day until Jack lost his mind, kick the team out of the Hub and fuck him senseless against the nearest surface.
It had been after one such day when Jack had asked his husband a question that had been nagging at the back of his mind. "Yan? Have you ever been psychically tested?"
The Welshman had laughed a little, still breathless, his head falling back onto Jack's desk. "We all got tested at One, Jack. Did you even read my CV?"
Jack grinned and kissed his neck. "If by CV you mean that gorgeous Welsh ass in that suit..."
Ianto smacked him on the shoulder lightly. "Knew it."
Jack grinned and propped himself up onto his elbows. "Seriously."
"Yes, Jack. Seriously." Ianto smiled and ran his fingers through Jack's hair. "Torchwood One had levels, Alpha through Epsilon, then Zeta for the nulls."
"That's... very terrifyingly Huxley."
"Didn't get the sex orgies until I got here, sir."
Jack grinned and rolled his hips against Ianto's, laughing at the resulting gasp. "And what level were you, Mr. Harkness-Jones?"
"Epsilon."
"The lowest score?" Jack asked, pulling back again. "I find that hard to believe. You're a natural!"
"The old regime wasn't keen on psychics," he said quietly, running his fingers down Jack's spine. "Higher level psychics were given sudden promotions."
Jack shivered, and it wasn't from the sensation Ianto's fingers were pulling from him. Self-preservation. "What about your siblings?"
"The boys show traits from time to time. So do Nonny and Tegan."
"And your mother," Jack added, almost as an afterthought.
"Mam?" Ianto looked up at him, eyebrows knitting together.
"Her visions." Jack smiled, kissing the underside of his jaw. "There are theories that schizophrenia is sometimes mistaken for psychic visions."
"You think so?"
The Captain just shrugged. "We've seen weirder things before."