Different Sort of Science -- Falling Into Place
Title: Different Sort of Science
Chapter Ten: Falling Into Place
Date Written: 8/28/08
Rating: PG/K+
Word Count: 2,418
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Characters/Pairings: *deep breath* Ianto/Lisa, Jack, Jake (DW), Mickey, Ricky (DW), Owen, Martha, Gwen, John Hart (TW), Tosh, Doctor, Brannigan (DW), Donna
Spoilers: Doctor Who up through Season 04, Torchwood up through 02
Warnings: AU like whoa, het (YES THAT'S RIGHT!)
Author's Notes: Thanks so much to my gorgeous betas totally4ryo and katestamps.
Previous chapters found here.
Book cover by cjharknessgirl
"Oooh, something mysterious inside a school. That would be ridiculous, wouldn’t it?"
-- Sarah Jane Smith, Revenge of the Slitheen
Ianto had always liked having a schedule, knowing roughly what was ahead for the rest of the day when he woke up. Had since he was a child, probably because of the regimented way his parents ran their shop. So it was considerably easy for Ianto to fall into the groove of things, even if the things he studied were anything but.
Jack turned him out of bed every morning at dawn, sometimes before, sometimes after the sun peered over the horizon. Ianto was still shuffling and yawning as they wandered out to the grounds while Jack was always far too chipper for so damn early in the morning. They'd run drills on various weapons -- he proved to be very adept at archery and not half bad at blades -- and then sometimes he'd pit him against his other three classmates (Jake Simmonds, and Lisa's younger twin brothers Michael and Richard, or Mickey and Ricky. he still didn't know which twin was which) while Jack stood back and yelled out compliments and corrections and cheered with the other two whenever either one got a hit in.
He was sore all over, and Mickey and Ricky pounding on his shoulders wasn't helping the bruises he knew were forming. Jack was favoring one arm, so he knew he'd gotten a good hit in or two.
"Don't worry," Jake told him, grinning. "Jack gave us a good thrashing when we sparred him at first, too."
After breakfast with Jake and Jack and the twins, he had his Academy classes. He was eventually shuffled into the best ones for his skill level -- it had been downright mortifying to be put in with children half his size and a quarter of his age for his history class, but Jack was a patient teacher and he slowly managed to start filing away the names and dates.
"Rassilon, I'm horrid at this!" Ianto swore, letting his head drop down onto his book with a thud.
Jack laughed a little. "No, you're not," he reassured Ianto. "You just don't have the head start on history these other kids do." Ianto picked his head up and gave him a suspicious look, and Jack laughed again. "You learned how to make clothing at your father's knee; these kids learned about their ancestors, the people we're studying. This is just a rehash of old bedtime stories for them."
He reached out and ran a hand over Ianto's hair. "You're not horrid, you're just... common. Not a bad thing, mind, that's just how it is. We didn't expect you to walk in knowing everything, so don't feel bad because you don't. You'll pick it up eventually."
Academy classes for Ianto were over by lunchtime, and he normally spent his meal sitting with Lisa, the two of them talking about classes and sometimes stealing long, languorous kisses before Ianto went to what he ended up calling his Primary classes. One afternoon a week with a different instructor in a different Primary.
His first Primary class was in the Healing Hall, with Owen Harper and Martha Jones (no relation), both of them completely brilliant at their jobs. One male and one female Healer, one for the men in the House and one for the women. Martha was a complete sweetheart, but Owen was a bit of a prat.
"Here, study this."
Ianto jumped a little when Owen slammed a thick book down in front of him. Curiously, he flipped open the book and had to swallow thickly to keep down his lunch. An illustration of the innards of a human belly stared back up at him, complete with reds and purples and Goddess Pythia, was that yellow? He could practically imagine them moving, pumping fluid and blood and... whatever else they did.
"You have to learn all the parts and how they tick and how to fix 'em." Owen shook a finger at him. "But I ain't about to go chuckin' students about so you can patch 'em up after, so hit the books!" he ordered, patting the picture.
Martha grinned and winked at Ianto over his shoulder. "Owen, mate? So adore that bedside manner."
The second day he had classes with Gwen. She really was a complete sweetheart, but she was completely reckless when it came to some things. It quite frankly terrified him that there was always the potential for something to explode -- literally -- if she got mad enough. She was as unpredictable as her Primary.
"Go on. Don't be afraid of it," Gwen said, her hands on his shoulders.
"Oh, yeah. Don't be afraid of the magic that can blow me up," Ianto said sarcastically.
Gwen laughed. "Here. Watch me first, then you can do it, okay?" She stepped around him, putting herself between him and the pile of lumber he was supposed to be setting ablaze.
As Ianto watched, she closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, centering herself like she'd shown him. After a moment of complete and utter tranquility -- the entire universe waiting to watch the show -- she raised both hands up over her head.
The brush caught fire violently, and the shockwave knocked Gwen back into Ianto. He caught her around the waist as he fell back, cushioning her when he fell back against the ground with a groan of pain.
She rolled off of him, looking down at him. "Are you all right?" she asked, brushing his dark hair off of his forehead.
Ianto considered the question. "No broken bones," he finally ruled. "Slight loss of dignity. No change there, then."
Gwen burst into very undignified, very infectious giggles, and both of them were still laughing themselves silly when the Doctor found them eight minutes later.
Day three was Air, with Hart. Who was still trying to get into Ianto's bed. Honestly, the man was so incredibly easy to manipulate that it was pathetic. Hart liked the chase, so Ianto would bait him for about three minutes, then spend the rest of their time completely strait-laced and driving him to all sorts of distraction. He'd never follow through with it; while it wasn't unusual to come across men who fancied other men, Ianto had never considered himself to be one of those types. And if he was, someone as unpredictable as Hart wouldn't be the kind he went after.
Plus, he sort of didn't trust Hart not to kill him in his sleep. Anyone who was labeled too volatile for negotiation assignments would probably know lots of creative ways to do it, too.
Ianto sighed, idly waving a hand distractedly in the air, making a gentle breeze catch and play with a fallen leaf, watching the orange coloring contrast against the beautifully clear sky.
There was a snapping twig somewhere above him, and he stepped to one side just as John Hart fell out of the tree, cussing and writhing in pain. "All right?"
"I'll live," he gasped before moving to his feet. His movements were slow but somewhat graceful, similar to how Jack moved, the way a fighter moved. He turned on his heel and crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at the young Mage. "But if you do that one more time today, you won't."
He sighed again. No fun.
The fourth day was spent in the company of Rhys, who taught him how to swim as well as how to control water. The man was cleverer than he looked, both in book smarts and sensibilities. He reminded Ianto very much of his older brother, and he always felt a little homesick after his lessons.
"It's bloody frigid, Williams!"
Rhys laughed and cupped his hands, pushing at the water. He gave a little bit of a nudge, so by the time it got to Ianto, the cold water soaked the lower half of his body. Ianto jumped back, yelping. "When you freeze to death, I'm going to tell Gwen that you died of stupidity!"
The other man laughed so hard he lost his footing and slipped under the water. When he came back up, sputtering, Ianto crossed his arms. "I prove my point!"
Rhys slipped under the water again, mouth open in laugher, and Ianto threw his hands up in the air.
The fifth day he spent time with Ms. Sato, who he was convinced was trying to blow him up. Gwen might do it unintentionally, but the slight woman had a naughty streak like that.
That being said, he absolutely adored her.
"Now," Ms. Sato -- Tosh -- was saying, holding up two cups of liquid. "What d'you think will happen if we mix these together?"
"Something will explode," Ianto replied.
One dark eyebrow arched over the wire rim of her glasses. "And what makes you think that?"
"You like to make things explode," he said. "Or at least make lots of bright colored smoke."
"But it's just so pretty!" she said, pouring the two liquids into the same bowl, the manic grin visible for just a moment before a pink cloud of smoke obscured her face.
The Doctor was the sixth day, and his lessons were slightly... off-handed. Like his mind was somewhere else more important than on a few plants growing in the ground. He did, however, have quite a gift with talking to animals -- Ianto thought that the Doctor would probably talk aloud to himself -- and he had a highly extensive knowledge on the properties of plants.
"Doctor, sir, I'm sorry, but I have to say this: A magic-type owning a cat is so completely a stereotype that I refuse to be a part of this."
The Doctor grinned a little, rubbing the space between the tabby's ears. "Hear that, Brannigan? Mr. Jones here doesn't like cats."
"It's not a matter of liking or not liking cats, sir, it's the principle of the thing." He watched as the tabby hopped out of his master's lap and moved over to Ianto. He looked up at the young Mage for a few moments with deep brown eyes before carefully butting his calf with the top of his head and letting out a low, rumbling purr.
"He likes you."
Ianto sighed. "I'll just go ahead and assume that there's a broom involved in all this as well?"
The last lesson of the day, every day, he took with Donna, the two of them spending a few hours a day getting into each other's head -- literally -- or trying to keep each other out. The times when Ianto worked his way into Donna's mind, he was rewarded with another glimpse of that beautiful Home-That-Was.
Donna grinned, holding out one of her memory globes. "Here. This one I know you'll enjoy."
Ianto took it eagerly, watching the beautiful golden mist shift and swirl until he saw a very young boy, slightly spiky brown hair and sapphire blue eyes. Jack Harkness, without a doubt in Ianto's mind. Ten, or thereabouts.
"We are not amused young man," Donna's voice echoed in his ears. Young Jack had the intelligence to look like he was very sorry he'd upset her.
"Indeed," came a voice off to the side, and the view shifted to see the Doctor, fighting down a grin. "What exactly was it that you did, you little mischief maker?"
The young boy looked down and shuffled his feet a little. "I thought it would be funny to hide the cook's wooden spoons."
"All of them, John," Donna's voice echoed.
The Doctor's mouth twitched as he suppressed another smile. "Yeah? Then what happened?"
"She got really mad," Jack informed him. "And she started hitting people when they told her they didn't know where they'd gone to."
"Did she now?"
Jack nodded vigorously, his hair bouncing a little. "And then she figured it out that I'd done it, and she whipped me."
"Well, that's what happens when you do sloppy work," the Doctor told him, folding his arms.
"John, for the love of Rassilon, don't encourage the boy!"
Ianto's evenings and a good majority of his nights were spent with Lisa. He knew that he wasn't exactly being subtle in his absolute adoration of her, and quite a few of the higher-ranking students would give him odd looks whenever they were together, but he couldn't help it. There was a part of him that wanted to climb up on the roof and just shout it out, as silly as it sounded.
Sometimes the only thing stopping him from doing it was the knowledge that Hart would blow him off the roof and Owen would make him do self-practice.
The two of them would usually end up in one room or another after dinner. Sometimes Mickey and Ricky joined them, joking that they were the noble chaperones protecting their sister's virtue (which didn't need all that much protecting, because Ianto was being a perfect gentleman), but most of the time it was just the two of them, sitting up and talking and drinking wine and occasionally quizzing one another on this subject or that.
"Where is the human heart located?"
Ianto lifted his head up off his pillows and looked down towards his feet. Lisa was sitting propped up against the foot of his bed, one of the books Owen gave him sitting on her knees. She smiled at him over the top of the book, eyes twinkling with mischief. "C'mon Mr. Ianto, Healer extraordinaire," she teased.
"I might need a hint," he teased back.
She laughed, setting the book aside and shifting a bit, crawling up the bed to lay down next to him. He put an arm under her and around her waist and she snuggled closer. "It's roughly around.... here," she said, putting a hand on his chest and rubbing in big wide circles.
"Well, I don't know what's in there," Ianto admitted, reaching up with his other hand and taking Lisa's hand in his own, "but I know that things in there do really odd things when you're around."
"Really now?" Her voice projected both amusement and flattery. "That sounds very serious, Mr. Ianto. You should have someone take a look at that heart."
"That's funny, I thought I was looking at my heart."
Lisa looked up at him, eyes wide. "That... that was really bad, Jones."
"I know," Ianto sighed. "Doesn't make it any less true." He took a deep breath. "Lisa, I -- "
"Ianto?" she cut him off.
"Yes?"
"I love you too. Now hush up and kiss me."
Chapter Ten: Falling Into Place
Date Written: 8/28/08
Rating: PG/K+
Word Count: 2,418
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Characters/Pairings: *deep breath* Ianto/Lisa, Jack, Jake (DW), Mickey, Ricky (DW), Owen, Martha, Gwen, John Hart (TW), Tosh, Doctor, Brannigan (DW), Donna
Spoilers: Doctor Who up through Season 04, Torchwood up through 02
Warnings: AU like whoa, het (YES THAT'S RIGHT!)
Author's Notes: Thanks so much to my gorgeous betas totally4ryo and katestamps.
Previous chapters found here.
Book cover by cjharknessgirl
"Oooh, something mysterious inside a school. That would be ridiculous, wouldn’t it?"
-- Sarah Jane Smith, Revenge of the Slitheen
Ianto had always liked having a schedule, knowing roughly what was ahead for the rest of the day when he woke up. Had since he was a child, probably because of the regimented way his parents ran their shop. So it was considerably easy for Ianto to fall into the groove of things, even if the things he studied were anything but.
Jack turned him out of bed every morning at dawn, sometimes before, sometimes after the sun peered over the horizon. Ianto was still shuffling and yawning as they wandered out to the grounds while Jack was always far too chipper for so damn early in the morning. They'd run drills on various weapons -- he proved to be very adept at archery and not half bad at blades -- and then sometimes he'd pit him against his other three classmates (Jake Simmonds, and Lisa's younger twin brothers Michael and Richard, or Mickey and Ricky. he still didn't know which twin was which) while Jack stood back and yelled out compliments and corrections and cheered with the other two whenever either one got a hit in.
He was sore all over, and Mickey and Ricky pounding on his shoulders wasn't helping the bruises he knew were forming. Jack was favoring one arm, so he knew he'd gotten a good hit in or two.
"Don't worry," Jake told him, grinning. "Jack gave us a good thrashing when we sparred him at first, too."
After breakfast with Jake and Jack and the twins, he had his Academy classes. He was eventually shuffled into the best ones for his skill level -- it had been downright mortifying to be put in with children half his size and a quarter of his age for his history class, but Jack was a patient teacher and he slowly managed to start filing away the names and dates.
"Rassilon, I'm horrid at this!" Ianto swore, letting his head drop down onto his book with a thud.
Jack laughed a little. "No, you're not," he reassured Ianto. "You just don't have the head start on history these other kids do." Ianto picked his head up and gave him a suspicious look, and Jack laughed again. "You learned how to make clothing at your father's knee; these kids learned about their ancestors, the people we're studying. This is just a rehash of old bedtime stories for them."
He reached out and ran a hand over Ianto's hair. "You're not horrid, you're just... common. Not a bad thing, mind, that's just how it is. We didn't expect you to walk in knowing everything, so don't feel bad because you don't. You'll pick it up eventually."
Academy classes for Ianto were over by lunchtime, and he normally spent his meal sitting with Lisa, the two of them talking about classes and sometimes stealing long, languorous kisses before Ianto went to what he ended up calling his Primary classes. One afternoon a week with a different instructor in a different Primary.
His first Primary class was in the Healing Hall, with Owen Harper and Martha Jones (no relation), both of them completely brilliant at their jobs. One male and one female Healer, one for the men in the House and one for the women. Martha was a complete sweetheart, but Owen was a bit of a prat.
"Here, study this."
Ianto jumped a little when Owen slammed a thick book down in front of him. Curiously, he flipped open the book and had to swallow thickly to keep down his lunch. An illustration of the innards of a human belly stared back up at him, complete with reds and purples and Goddess Pythia, was that yellow? He could practically imagine them moving, pumping fluid and blood and... whatever else they did.
"You have to learn all the parts and how they tick and how to fix 'em." Owen shook a finger at him. "But I ain't about to go chuckin' students about so you can patch 'em up after, so hit the books!" he ordered, patting the picture.
Martha grinned and winked at Ianto over his shoulder. "Owen, mate? So adore that bedside manner."
The second day he had classes with Gwen. She really was a complete sweetheart, but she was completely reckless when it came to some things. It quite frankly terrified him that there was always the potential for something to explode -- literally -- if she got mad enough. She was as unpredictable as her Primary.
"Go on. Don't be afraid of it," Gwen said, her hands on his shoulders.
"Oh, yeah. Don't be afraid of the magic that can blow me up," Ianto said sarcastically.
Gwen laughed. "Here. Watch me first, then you can do it, okay?" She stepped around him, putting herself between him and the pile of lumber he was supposed to be setting ablaze.
As Ianto watched, she closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, centering herself like she'd shown him. After a moment of complete and utter tranquility -- the entire universe waiting to watch the show -- she raised both hands up over her head.
The brush caught fire violently, and the shockwave knocked Gwen back into Ianto. He caught her around the waist as he fell back, cushioning her when he fell back against the ground with a groan of pain.
She rolled off of him, looking down at him. "Are you all right?" she asked, brushing his dark hair off of his forehead.
Ianto considered the question. "No broken bones," he finally ruled. "Slight loss of dignity. No change there, then."
Gwen burst into very undignified, very infectious giggles, and both of them were still laughing themselves silly when the Doctor found them eight minutes later.
Day three was Air, with Hart. Who was still trying to get into Ianto's bed. Honestly, the man was so incredibly easy to manipulate that it was pathetic. Hart liked the chase, so Ianto would bait him for about three minutes, then spend the rest of their time completely strait-laced and driving him to all sorts of distraction. He'd never follow through with it; while it wasn't unusual to come across men who fancied other men, Ianto had never considered himself to be one of those types. And if he was, someone as unpredictable as Hart wouldn't be the kind he went after.
Plus, he sort of didn't trust Hart not to kill him in his sleep. Anyone who was labeled too volatile for negotiation assignments would probably know lots of creative ways to do it, too.
Ianto sighed, idly waving a hand distractedly in the air, making a gentle breeze catch and play with a fallen leaf, watching the orange coloring contrast against the beautifully clear sky.
There was a snapping twig somewhere above him, and he stepped to one side just as John Hart fell out of the tree, cussing and writhing in pain. "All right?"
"I'll live," he gasped before moving to his feet. His movements were slow but somewhat graceful, similar to how Jack moved, the way a fighter moved. He turned on his heel and crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at the young Mage. "But if you do that one more time today, you won't."
He sighed again. No fun.
The fourth day was spent in the company of Rhys, who taught him how to swim as well as how to control water. The man was cleverer than he looked, both in book smarts and sensibilities. He reminded Ianto very much of his older brother, and he always felt a little homesick after his lessons.
"It's bloody frigid, Williams!"
Rhys laughed and cupped his hands, pushing at the water. He gave a little bit of a nudge, so by the time it got to Ianto, the cold water soaked the lower half of his body. Ianto jumped back, yelping. "When you freeze to death, I'm going to tell Gwen that you died of stupidity!"
The other man laughed so hard he lost his footing and slipped under the water. When he came back up, sputtering, Ianto crossed his arms. "I prove my point!"
Rhys slipped under the water again, mouth open in laugher, and Ianto threw his hands up in the air.
The fifth day he spent time with Ms. Sato, who he was convinced was trying to blow him up. Gwen might do it unintentionally, but the slight woman had a naughty streak like that.
That being said, he absolutely adored her.
"Now," Ms. Sato -- Tosh -- was saying, holding up two cups of liquid. "What d'you think will happen if we mix these together?"
"Something will explode," Ianto replied.
One dark eyebrow arched over the wire rim of her glasses. "And what makes you think that?"
"You like to make things explode," he said. "Or at least make lots of bright colored smoke."
"But it's just so pretty!" she said, pouring the two liquids into the same bowl, the manic grin visible for just a moment before a pink cloud of smoke obscured her face.
The Doctor was the sixth day, and his lessons were slightly... off-handed. Like his mind was somewhere else more important than on a few plants growing in the ground. He did, however, have quite a gift with talking to animals -- Ianto thought that the Doctor would probably talk aloud to himself -- and he had a highly extensive knowledge on the properties of plants.
"Doctor, sir, I'm sorry, but I have to say this: A magic-type owning a cat is so completely a stereotype that I refuse to be a part of this."
The Doctor grinned a little, rubbing the space between the tabby's ears. "Hear that, Brannigan? Mr. Jones here doesn't like cats."
"It's not a matter of liking or not liking cats, sir, it's the principle of the thing." He watched as the tabby hopped out of his master's lap and moved over to Ianto. He looked up at the young Mage for a few moments with deep brown eyes before carefully butting his calf with the top of his head and letting out a low, rumbling purr.
"He likes you."
Ianto sighed. "I'll just go ahead and assume that there's a broom involved in all this as well?"
The last lesson of the day, every day, he took with Donna, the two of them spending a few hours a day getting into each other's head -- literally -- or trying to keep each other out. The times when Ianto worked his way into Donna's mind, he was rewarded with another glimpse of that beautiful Home-That-Was.
Donna grinned, holding out one of her memory globes. "Here. This one I know you'll enjoy."
Ianto took it eagerly, watching the beautiful golden mist shift and swirl until he saw a very young boy, slightly spiky brown hair and sapphire blue eyes. Jack Harkness, without a doubt in Ianto's mind. Ten, or thereabouts.
"We are not amused young man," Donna's voice echoed in his ears. Young Jack had the intelligence to look like he was very sorry he'd upset her.
"Indeed," came a voice off to the side, and the view shifted to see the Doctor, fighting down a grin. "What exactly was it that you did, you little mischief maker?"
The young boy looked down and shuffled his feet a little. "I thought it would be funny to hide the cook's wooden spoons."
"All of them, John," Donna's voice echoed.
The Doctor's mouth twitched as he suppressed another smile. "Yeah? Then what happened?"
"She got really mad," Jack informed him. "And she started hitting people when they told her they didn't know where they'd gone to."
"Did she now?"
Jack nodded vigorously, his hair bouncing a little. "And then she figured it out that I'd done it, and she whipped me."
"Well, that's what happens when you do sloppy work," the Doctor told him, folding his arms.
"John, for the love of Rassilon, don't encourage the boy!"
Ianto's evenings and a good majority of his nights were spent with Lisa. He knew that he wasn't exactly being subtle in his absolute adoration of her, and quite a few of the higher-ranking students would give him odd looks whenever they were together, but he couldn't help it. There was a part of him that wanted to climb up on the roof and just shout it out, as silly as it sounded.
Sometimes the only thing stopping him from doing it was the knowledge that Hart would blow him off the roof and Owen would make him do self-practice.
The two of them would usually end up in one room or another after dinner. Sometimes Mickey and Ricky joined them, joking that they were the noble chaperones protecting their sister's virtue (which didn't need all that much protecting, because Ianto was being a perfect gentleman), but most of the time it was just the two of them, sitting up and talking and drinking wine and occasionally quizzing one another on this subject or that.
"Where is the human heart located?"
Ianto lifted his head up off his pillows and looked down towards his feet. Lisa was sitting propped up against the foot of his bed, one of the books Owen gave him sitting on her knees. She smiled at him over the top of the book, eyes twinkling with mischief. "C'mon Mr. Ianto, Healer extraordinaire," she teased.
"I might need a hint," he teased back.
She laughed, setting the book aside and shifting a bit, crawling up the bed to lay down next to him. He put an arm under her and around her waist and she snuggled closer. "It's roughly around.... here," she said, putting a hand on his chest and rubbing in big wide circles.
"Well, I don't know what's in there," Ianto admitted, reaching up with his other hand and taking Lisa's hand in his own, "but I know that things in there do really odd things when you're around."
"Really now?" Her voice projected both amusement and flattery. "That sounds very serious, Mr. Ianto. You should have someone take a look at that heart."
"That's funny, I thought I was looking at my heart."
Lisa looked up at him, eyes wide. "That... that was really bad, Jones."
"I know," Ianto sighed. "Doesn't make it any less true." He took a deep breath. "Lisa, I -- "
"Ianto?" she cut him off.
"Yes?"
"I love you too. Now hush up and kiss me."