Adam - Prologue (Part 1/6)
Title: Adam (Part 1/6)
Disclaimer: Being a bloke who likes to slash pretty men doesn't make me RTD, I don't work for the BBC, and as much as I might like to, I don't own Jack or Ianto or any part of Torchwood. I do, however, order pizza under that name on principle.
Pairings: Jack/Ianto, and maybe a bit of Owen/Gwen if you squint.
Rating: Probably around a PG-13 for a bit of language, violence, and mention of sexuality.
Notes/Summary: Based on/inspired by a very short vignette of the same title I did in June and promised some folks I'd come back to after finishing "Hatful of Hollow." So yeah, here it is. Special thanks to damalan for being attentive and patient and kind and encouraging with me while I drafted this. Comments, criticism, and additional Britpicking welcome. (And I promise I don't have an alternate Ianto fetish. Really!)
Ianto was just finishing up a fresh batch of coffee when the entry alarm sounded and the huge round door rolled open.
“That,” Owen grumbled, eyes narrowed down to slits, “was the biggest waste of time in the fucking history of wasting time. Plus, I’ve got sunburn. Sunburn. In Wales.”
“Oh, it wasn’t so bad!” Gwen grinned at him. “We got to enjoy some nice spring weather for a change instead of sitting around down here playing with dead things.”
“Yeah, easy for you to say. You’re not the one who had to spend an hour stuck up at the top of a bloody utility pole because your scanner was on the blink.”
“And you’re not the one who spent the day knee-deep in water,” Jack reminded him, clapping an arm on their doctor’s shoulder before veering toward his office to change clothes. “Count your blessings.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Owen rolled his eyes and let his duffel bag drop with a hard clank onto the concrete. Tosh visibly winced.
“That scanner would work better if you didn’t insist on dropping it,” she snapped at him. Like the others, she looked a bit battered and weary. Ianto helped her untangle herself from the various straps and bags of equipment she carried, then handed her the first mug of coffee. He’d clear the bags away soon enough when Tosh and Jack went to work on the data (and Owen and Gwen presumably went off to do whatever it was they were meant to be doing that afternoon).
Looking at the others, he felt a mild pang of guilt at having stayed behind. There’d been a week’s worth of weird Rift readings - spikes, dips, and the like - and Jack wanted a second set of numbers to work with before coming to any solid conclusions. Unfortunately, that meant taking readings in any number of awkward places - storm sewers, the Bay, on top of buildings - and so the team had gone out with every reliable bit of testing equipment they had. Ianto, meanwhile, had stayed back to manage the Hub, answer phones, and crunch numbers for Toshiko when she decided to re-calibrate the equipment three hours into the expedition (in part because of Owen’s scanner).
All things considered, though, it was fairly peaceful for a Friday.
Owen snatched a mug from the tray. “Have a good tea party without us Ianto?”
“It’s a shame you missed it, actually. I’ve a nice frock that might match those rosy cheeks of yours.”
Owen snorted dismissively and wandered off to his workstation.
Ianto smiled and moved on to Jack’s office. He liked leaving Jack for last these days, mostly because it gave them a few moments of peace between disasters. Evening plans might come apart at a moment’s notice, but coffee was a reliable constant in both their lives.
He tapped the doorframe out of habit just in time to see a mostly-dressed Captain emerge from the hatch by his desk.
“Only one coffee. Does that mean I get what’s in the suit instead?” Jack grinned and winked as he did up his belt and straightened the collar on his shirt.
“Sadly, I’m afraid you’ll have to make do with what’s in the mug, sir. I’ve got about seventy kilos of scanning equipment to check, clean, and put away.” He let his fingers brush against Jack’s as he handed the mug to the other man, and they both smiled. Jack’s eyes flicked to the doorway, then back to Ianto.
“Tonight, then?”
“If you like, sir.”
“God, I will never get tired of hearing you call me that. It’s just so kinky.” Jack took a drink of his coffee. He looked distracted for a second, as if he’d noticed something out of place, then shook it off and lit up again into a playful leer.
“You know,” Jack murmured, checking the doorway again. “The others are busy cleaning up and settling in. They won’t notice if you give me a little bit of a preview.”
“The last time I gave you a preview, sir, you sent the others home four hours early and I spent the rest of the week trying to conceal rope burns.”
“I don’t remember you complaining.”
“And I wasn’t just now.” Ianto blushed a bit in spite of himself.
Jack kissed him gently, almost tentatively, letting his tongue dart in to taste but not to explore. It was a delicate, light sort of touching, but surprisingly pleasant. Ianto was seriously considering leaving the scanning equipment where it was and suggesting they make use of the boardroom table immediately when he felt something cold and hard pressed against the side of his head and heard a metallic click.
“Where is he?” Jack growled against his mouth.
“What?”
Jack stepped back and sideways, blocking Ianto’s path to the door and extending his arms to point the Webley right between the younger man’s eyes. Ianto got the hint and kept his hands visible.
“Where’s Ianto? What did you do with him?”
“Jack? It’s me. Put the gun down.”
“Owen!” Jack shouted over his shoulder, not letting his eyes leave his captive. “Tranquilizers. Now!”
“Jack, stop for a minute. Think this through.” He could hear the edge of panic in his own voice. Jack wouldn’t hesitate to shoot if he felt the situation warranted it.
“You should have thought it through before impersonating a member of my team. Now, you’re going to tell me exactly where you put Ianto Jones, and what you’ve done to him, and if I am in the least bit displeased about his condition when you bring him back to this installation, so help me -”
Owen dashed into the office and stopped, confused.
“Owen, tranq him.”
“What?” He looked from Jack to Ianto and then back to Jack.
“That isn’t Ianto. It’s a decoy. Something’s taken him.”
Owen nodded and drew fluid into a syringe.
“Jack, you’re making a mistake,” he pleaded. He didn’t struggle as Owen swabbed the back of his hand with alcohol. “I’m me. Ianto. Your Ianto. Ask me something. Anything. Please!”
Owen jabbed the needle in and pushed the plunger down. Ianto’s legs went out from under him in seconds, and the room started to wheel around and go dim.
“Tosh, track his movements on the CCTV. See if you can find out when they made the switch. Gwen, search the Hub, the tourist office, and the archives for clues. Owen, I want you to take samples, do a full scan, and then get this one into a cell. We’re going to have a little chat.”
===
Next Ep: 2/6
Disclaimer: Being a bloke who likes to slash pretty men doesn't make me RTD, I don't work for the BBC, and as much as I might like to, I don't own Jack or Ianto or any part of Torchwood. I do, however, order pizza under that name on principle.
Pairings: Jack/Ianto, and maybe a bit of Owen/Gwen if you squint.
Rating: Probably around a PG-13 for a bit of language, violence, and mention of sexuality.
Notes/Summary: Based on/inspired by a very short vignette of the same title I did in June and promised some folks I'd come back to after finishing "Hatful of Hollow." So yeah, here it is. Special thanks to damalan for being attentive and patient and kind and encouraging with me while I drafted this. Comments, criticism, and additional Britpicking welcome. (And I promise I don't have an alternate Ianto fetish. Really!)
Ianto was just finishing up a fresh batch of coffee when the entry alarm sounded and the huge round door rolled open.
“That,” Owen grumbled, eyes narrowed down to slits, “was the biggest waste of time in the fucking history of wasting time. Plus, I’ve got sunburn. Sunburn. In Wales.”
“Oh, it wasn’t so bad!” Gwen grinned at him. “We got to enjoy some nice spring weather for a change instead of sitting around down here playing with dead things.”
“Yeah, easy for you to say. You’re not the one who had to spend an hour stuck up at the top of a bloody utility pole because your scanner was on the blink.”
“And you’re not the one who spent the day knee-deep in water,” Jack reminded him, clapping an arm on their doctor’s shoulder before veering toward his office to change clothes. “Count your blessings.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Owen rolled his eyes and let his duffel bag drop with a hard clank onto the concrete. Tosh visibly winced.
“That scanner would work better if you didn’t insist on dropping it,” she snapped at him. Like the others, she looked a bit battered and weary. Ianto helped her untangle herself from the various straps and bags of equipment she carried, then handed her the first mug of coffee. He’d clear the bags away soon enough when Tosh and Jack went to work on the data (and Owen and Gwen presumably went off to do whatever it was they were meant to be doing that afternoon).
Looking at the others, he felt a mild pang of guilt at having stayed behind. There’d been a week’s worth of weird Rift readings - spikes, dips, and the like - and Jack wanted a second set of numbers to work with before coming to any solid conclusions. Unfortunately, that meant taking readings in any number of awkward places - storm sewers, the Bay, on top of buildings - and so the team had gone out with every reliable bit of testing equipment they had. Ianto, meanwhile, had stayed back to manage the Hub, answer phones, and crunch numbers for Toshiko when she decided to re-calibrate the equipment three hours into the expedition (in part because of Owen’s scanner).
All things considered, though, it was fairly peaceful for a Friday.
Owen snatched a mug from the tray. “Have a good tea party without us Ianto?”
“It’s a shame you missed it, actually. I’ve a nice frock that might match those rosy cheeks of yours.”
Owen snorted dismissively and wandered off to his workstation.
Ianto smiled and moved on to Jack’s office. He liked leaving Jack for last these days, mostly because it gave them a few moments of peace between disasters. Evening plans might come apart at a moment’s notice, but coffee was a reliable constant in both their lives.
He tapped the doorframe out of habit just in time to see a mostly-dressed Captain emerge from the hatch by his desk.
“Only one coffee. Does that mean I get what’s in the suit instead?” Jack grinned and winked as he did up his belt and straightened the collar on his shirt.
“Sadly, I’m afraid you’ll have to make do with what’s in the mug, sir. I’ve got about seventy kilos of scanning equipment to check, clean, and put away.” He let his fingers brush against Jack’s as he handed the mug to the other man, and they both smiled. Jack’s eyes flicked to the doorway, then back to Ianto.
“Tonight, then?”
“If you like, sir.”
“God, I will never get tired of hearing you call me that. It’s just so kinky.” Jack took a drink of his coffee. He looked distracted for a second, as if he’d noticed something out of place, then shook it off and lit up again into a playful leer.
“You know,” Jack murmured, checking the doorway again. “The others are busy cleaning up and settling in. They won’t notice if you give me a little bit of a preview.”
“The last time I gave you a preview, sir, you sent the others home four hours early and I spent the rest of the week trying to conceal rope burns.”
“I don’t remember you complaining.”
“And I wasn’t just now.” Ianto blushed a bit in spite of himself.
Jack kissed him gently, almost tentatively, letting his tongue dart in to taste but not to explore. It was a delicate, light sort of touching, but surprisingly pleasant. Ianto was seriously considering leaving the scanning equipment where it was and suggesting they make use of the boardroom table immediately when he felt something cold and hard pressed against the side of his head and heard a metallic click.
“Where is he?” Jack growled against his mouth.
“What?”
Jack stepped back and sideways, blocking Ianto’s path to the door and extending his arms to point the Webley right between the younger man’s eyes. Ianto got the hint and kept his hands visible.
“Where’s Ianto? What did you do with him?”
“Jack? It’s me. Put the gun down.”
“Owen!” Jack shouted over his shoulder, not letting his eyes leave his captive. “Tranquilizers. Now!”
“Jack, stop for a minute. Think this through.” He could hear the edge of panic in his own voice. Jack wouldn’t hesitate to shoot if he felt the situation warranted it.
“You should have thought it through before impersonating a member of my team. Now, you’re going to tell me exactly where you put Ianto Jones, and what you’ve done to him, and if I am in the least bit displeased about his condition when you bring him back to this installation, so help me -”
Owen dashed into the office and stopped, confused.
“Owen, tranq him.”
“What?” He looked from Jack to Ianto and then back to Jack.
“That isn’t Ianto. It’s a decoy. Something’s taken him.”
Owen nodded and drew fluid into a syringe.
“Jack, you’re making a mistake,” he pleaded. He didn’t struggle as Owen swabbed the back of his hand with alcohol. “I’m me. Ianto. Your Ianto. Ask me something. Anything. Please!”
Owen jabbed the needle in and pushed the plunger down. Ianto’s legs went out from under him in seconds, and the room started to wheel around and go dim.
“Tosh, track his movements on the CCTV. See if you can find out when they made the switch. Gwen, search the Hub, the tourist office, and the archives for clues. Owen, I want you to take samples, do a full scan, and then get this one into a cell. We’re going to have a little chat.”
===
Next Ep: 2/6