TW Fic: Love and Other Monstrous Things
Title: Love and Other Monstrous Things
Pairing/Characters: Ianto, Myfanwy, Jack, team.
Author(s): 1st part - kalichan;
2nd part - kalichan & rm
Rating/Warning: PG-13, pre-slash, hurt/comfort
Summary: Love your pterodactyl, don't love your pterodactyl.
Wordcount: ~1700
Authors' Notes: So… Kali wrote this thing for writerinadrawer, which Rach, being lazy, doesn't participate or vote in. However, upon checking in with the hive mind (can 2 be a hive mind?) it was determined that this really fit into the Traveling universe. Thus! Here is a little bit of outtake/candy from IHNIIHBT, for all of you who might be missing that world, and are waiting so patiently for chapter 3 of EtGB (it's coming soon, we promise!). First part takes place post TW 1x04: Cyberwoman, and the conversation afterwards takes place a while after There Are Some Men Who Should Have Mountains to Bear Their Names to Time and before Harbour.
Two days, twelve hours, and fifty-seven minutes since Lisa. And Jack was telling him he could leave. Or not. "The job's still there if you want it. You're suspended for two weeks, but you can come back after that. Or… there's retcon."
It had been tempting, almost incredibly so. Waking up in a hospital wing, memories lost. The comfort of being ill through no fault of his own replacing the agonizing weight of all his wrong choices. Mourning Lisa without remembering metal and murder. Perhaps that was why he'd come back to work, in the end. Nothing that sounded so good could be right. Not for him.
Sixteen days, fourteen hours and twenty-three minutes.
Ianto wondered if his mental calendar was permanently altered now, branded with "before Lisa" and "after Lisa" instead of B.C. and A.D, an endless count replacing everyone else's day, month and year. Turning from the coffee machine, he collided head-on with Jack. He knew he should apologize, but his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, and he was unable to utter a single word.
"Sorry," Jack said. "Didn't mean to startle you."
Ianto found his voice. "Quite all right, sir. My fault." Like everything, he wanted to add but didn't.
Jack narrowed his eyes at him, almost as if he'd heard the unspoken words. "Self flagellation's not very attractive."
Mechanically, Ianto's mind supplied several responses. Can I assume you'll be the one to provide all the spankings I need? Or perhaps something with a slight hint of blasphemy. No taste for monks, then, sir? I'm surprised. But he didn't say any of them.
Jack waited a moment for his response, but when one didn't come, all he said was, "Come to my office when you're done with that. I have a job for you."
***
"No, I won't do it."
"Really?" Jack said, raising an eyebrow. "We can tell she's hurt, but she's not letting anyone near that perch of hers. Everyone's tried but you."
"I don't give a flying fuck. You can't ask me to do that. Not for the thing that--"
"It wasn't her fault. She needs help."
"So? Let her- it rot."
Jack gave him a level look. "What if one of us needs help one day? You gonna have this same attitude?"
Sullenly, Ianto stared back at him. "Is this an order?" he ground out finally.
"Yes," Jack said shortly.
***
Trying very hard not to look down, Ianto crept out over the gantry - too narrow to be called a walkway, too broad, barely, to be a pipe. Feeling in his breast pockets for the bar of chocolate, and the bandages, elastoplasts, and disinfectant he'd cadged from Owen, he eyed the great, lumpen shadow huddling near the wall.
"Come on, you murderous, evil beast," he said, his voice gentle and soothing. "Let's get this over with quickly. I'd as soon stab you as minister to you, so…" She didn't move, or shriek warningly at him. He edged closer, able to see the swollen, suppurating scratches on her wings now. He didn't feel any pity, just a wave of overwhelming exhaustion. He sank back on his heels, waiting for it pass, listening
idly to the sound of the team's voices coming from below, echoing against the metal walls and rafters.
"What is it?" Tosh was asking.
"Consciousness-storage and download device." Jack answered. "51st century."
"How do you know?" That was Owen, Ianto noted.
"I know lots of things," Jack said. "Must've fallen through the rift when-"
Ianto stopped listening. He had a job to do, and he was done pampering the moods of this creature. Or his own. He reached out with the disinfectant, abruptly, but the sudden movement made Myfanwy flinch away. As if in slow motion, Ianto felt himself overbalance and topple, feeling the sickening swoop of nothing at all beneath him.
***
When he awoke, everything hurt. Lines of fiery pain seemed to be scorching across him, and everywhere that didn't burn, there seemed to be a dull, thudding ache. His brain, like the rest of him, felt squashed and confused. There also seemed to be a crushing weight on part of his body. He managed to open his eyes, and decided he must be in hell. There were shapes and outlines, but everything was colored in shades of flame and red and gray.
"Oh god," he tried to say, but words didn't come out.
"Easy there, sweetheart." That was Gwen, Ianto realized. So not hell, still Torchwood. If there was a difference. "You saved him, cushioning his fall like that. Good girl." Girl? Ianto blinked. Feebly, he tried to raise his arm.
But it wasn't an arm. It was a wing. He screamed. A harsh squawking sound reverberated through his skull, and he realized the noise was coming from his own throat.
He was inside the bloody dinosaur.
"Are you all right, Jack?" Tosh asked.
"Fine."
"But they fell on you."
"It's a miracle," Gwen interjected hurriedly. "Let's worry about Ianto, shall we?"
They were hovering over the crushing weight that was half on him, and Ianto realized that the weight was in fact his own body. The figure that was obviously Owen jabbed something sharp into it, and inside Myfanwy, Ianto shuddered sympathetically.
"You all right, Ianto?" Owen asked. "Can you hear me?"
Riveted, Ianto watched his own body convulse and then try to sit up, obviously confused. Its mouth opened hesitantly a few times. "Ark," it said finally. "Ark, ark."
***
Ianto was actually surprised at how rapidly the team figured out that they'd fallen, landed on Jack, been stuck by the device he'd been holding, and presto: body swap. Another day at Torchwood.
He would have expected much longer, frankly.
While Tosh repaired the device, so they could use it to switch back, Ianto watched Myfanwy scrabble helplessly at the suit's breast pocket, clearly scenting the chocolate within, but not sure how to use her new mouth or hands to best effect.
Then Jack came and knelt by his head, and began to bandage him up. Ianto squawked once in protest, but then lay quiescent. He supposed it was easier with him in there, so he might as well put up with it to save himself the work later.
"She saved you, you know?" Jack said as he worked. "Dove right under you, wounds and all."
Ianto tried to shrug, but the pterodactyl's shoulders weren't designed for it.
"We're all monsters together here," Jack added softly. "The same under the skin. Traitors, murderers, misfit toys. Doesn't mean we shouldn't care for each other. Doesn't mean we don't."
Sixteen days, eighteen hours.
Ianto struggled away from Jack. Clambering over to his own body, he gently pressed it down. Using his beak, he nosed open the suit-jacket, clumsily clawing open the pocket to reveal the chocolate within. Myfanwy went for it, face first. When she pulled back, Ianto could smell the chocolate covered outline of his own face.
Sixteen days, eighteen hours and ten minutes. The count went on. Maybe it would never stop.
Snaking out his tongue, he licked gently at the besmeared cheek.
Somewhere behind him, he knew that Jack was smiling.
***
Some years later
It had been a bad day that had, in the end, turned out all right. Sure, Andy's arm was in a cast and Gwen had needed more stitches than she or Maeve had wanted to admit to him, but everyone was still alive and the bad guys hadn't even needed to be pitched into the sun, for a change. Ravi had acquitted himself well in the field (with a gun, even!) and hadn't whooped like an over-excited kid about it until they'd gotten back to the Hub.
When they'd gotten back, Jack had retreated to his office with a smile, glad everyone was alive and reasonably cheered in spite of it all, especially since he could let Ianto see to tying up the loose ends.
"I sent everyone home. Ravi's packing up," Ianto said as he strolled into Jack's office an hour later.
"Drink?" Jack offered by way of thanks.
Ianto nodded, pleasantly surprised when Jack picked up two glasses from his bar set and slide them onto his desk before pouring the scotch.
"What's the occasion?" he asked, as he took one of the glasses.
"No occasion."
Ianto gave him a suspicious look.
Jack shrugged. "It's a good team," he said.
"Yeah, they are. I mean, we… they... we... god, that's awkward. I --"
"It's fine. I get it. You're in a weird place, around here. Lines get blurred. My fault as much as anyone's."
"Yeah," Ianto said. "Anyway, yours, or ours, it doesn't matter. The team's good."
"It's funny to remember how it was before. You were so young."
"Not as young as Ravi."
"Well, not quite," Jack allowed with a smirk. "Got into even more--"
Ianto raised a harsh eyebrow, and Jack realized the other man thought he meant Lisa.
"Nah, not that. The weird, stupid stuff."
"Like what?" Ianto asked.
"You want a list of things you got into? You don't remember? How about the time you wound up in the pterodactyl body? When Ianto Jones gets into trouble, he gets into it. Literally."
"Oh," Ianto said, blushing. "That."
Jack laughed. "You know," he said consideringly, "it's too bad we weren't fucking then."
Ianto took a swig of his drink. "You have got to be joking."
There was a pause. Jack shrugged.
Ianto blinked. "Wait, you're not joking?"
"Not really, no. You know, I think we still have that device somewhere. I mean, we must. You archived it."
"I'm not sure if I'm more put off by you mucking around with pterodactyl flesh, even if I'm in it, or by you mucking around with pterodactyl consciousness while IN MY BODY."
"Hey, you let me use your body now," Jack said, smiling slyly into his drink.
"Use isn't exactly the word I would.... use."
Jack barked with laughter. "Okay, not always, but remember when --"
Whatever it was, Ianto didn't care. "And I enjoyed that very much, but you should probably stop talking if you want to do that EVER again."
"You're no fun."
"Liar."
end
Pairing/Characters: Ianto, Myfanwy, Jack, team.
Author(s): 1st part - kalichan;
2nd part - kalichan & rm
Rating/Warning: PG-13, pre-slash, hurt/comfort
Summary: Love your pterodactyl, don't love your pterodactyl.
Wordcount: ~1700
Authors' Notes: So… Kali wrote this thing for writerinadrawer, which Rach, being lazy, doesn't participate or vote in. However, upon checking in with the hive mind (can 2 be a hive mind?) it was determined that this really fit into the Traveling universe. Thus! Here is a little bit of outtake/candy from IHNIIHBT, for all of you who might be missing that world, and are waiting so patiently for chapter 3 of EtGB (it's coming soon, we promise!). First part takes place post TW 1x04: Cyberwoman, and the conversation afterwards takes place a while after There Are Some Men Who Should Have Mountains to Bear Their Names to Time and before Harbour.
Two days, twelve hours, and fifty-seven minutes since Lisa. And Jack was telling him he could leave. Or not. "The job's still there if you want it. You're suspended for two weeks, but you can come back after that. Or… there's retcon."
It had been tempting, almost incredibly so. Waking up in a hospital wing, memories lost. The comfort of being ill through no fault of his own replacing the agonizing weight of all his wrong choices. Mourning Lisa without remembering metal and murder. Perhaps that was why he'd come back to work, in the end. Nothing that sounded so good could be right. Not for him.
Sixteen days, fourteen hours and twenty-three minutes.
Ianto wondered if his mental calendar was permanently altered now, branded with "before Lisa" and "after Lisa" instead of B.C. and A.D, an endless count replacing everyone else's day, month and year. Turning from the coffee machine, he collided head-on with Jack. He knew he should apologize, but his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, and he was unable to utter a single word.
"Sorry," Jack said. "Didn't mean to startle you."
Ianto found his voice. "Quite all right, sir. My fault." Like everything, he wanted to add but didn't.
Jack narrowed his eyes at him, almost as if he'd heard the unspoken words. "Self flagellation's not very attractive."
Mechanically, Ianto's mind supplied several responses. Can I assume you'll be the one to provide all the spankings I need? Or perhaps something with a slight hint of blasphemy. No taste for monks, then, sir? I'm surprised. But he didn't say any of them.
Jack waited a moment for his response, but when one didn't come, all he said was, "Come to my office when you're done with that. I have a job for you."
***
"No, I won't do it."
"Really?" Jack said, raising an eyebrow. "We can tell she's hurt, but she's not letting anyone near that perch of hers. Everyone's tried but you."
"I don't give a flying fuck. You can't ask me to do that. Not for the thing that--"
"It wasn't her fault. She needs help."
"So? Let her- it rot."
Jack gave him a level look. "What if one of us needs help one day? You gonna have this same attitude?"
Sullenly, Ianto stared back at him. "Is this an order?" he ground out finally.
"Yes," Jack said shortly.
***
Trying very hard not to look down, Ianto crept out over the gantry - too narrow to be called a walkway, too broad, barely, to be a pipe. Feeling in his breast pockets for the bar of chocolate, and the bandages, elastoplasts, and disinfectant he'd cadged from Owen, he eyed the great, lumpen shadow huddling near the wall.
"Come on, you murderous, evil beast," he said, his voice gentle and soothing. "Let's get this over with quickly. I'd as soon stab you as minister to you, so…" She didn't move, or shriek warningly at him. He edged closer, able to see the swollen, suppurating scratches on her wings now. He didn't feel any pity, just a wave of overwhelming exhaustion. He sank back on his heels, waiting for it pass, listening
idly to the sound of the team's voices coming from below, echoing against the metal walls and rafters.
"What is it?" Tosh was asking.
"Consciousness-storage and download device." Jack answered. "51st century."
"How do you know?" That was Owen, Ianto noted.
"I know lots of things," Jack said. "Must've fallen through the rift when-"
Ianto stopped listening. He had a job to do, and he was done pampering the moods of this creature. Or his own. He reached out with the disinfectant, abruptly, but the sudden movement made Myfanwy flinch away. As if in slow motion, Ianto felt himself overbalance and topple, feeling the sickening swoop of nothing at all beneath him.
***
When he awoke, everything hurt. Lines of fiery pain seemed to be scorching across him, and everywhere that didn't burn, there seemed to be a dull, thudding ache. His brain, like the rest of him, felt squashed and confused. There also seemed to be a crushing weight on part of his body. He managed to open his eyes, and decided he must be in hell. There were shapes and outlines, but everything was colored in shades of flame and red and gray.
"Oh god," he tried to say, but words didn't come out.
"Easy there, sweetheart." That was Gwen, Ianto realized. So not hell, still Torchwood. If there was a difference. "You saved him, cushioning his fall like that. Good girl." Girl? Ianto blinked. Feebly, he tried to raise his arm.
But it wasn't an arm. It was a wing. He screamed. A harsh squawking sound reverberated through his skull, and he realized the noise was coming from his own throat.
He was inside the bloody dinosaur.
"Are you all right, Jack?" Tosh asked.
"Fine."
"But they fell on you."
"It's a miracle," Gwen interjected hurriedly. "Let's worry about Ianto, shall we?"
They were hovering over the crushing weight that was half on him, and Ianto realized that the weight was in fact his own body. The figure that was obviously Owen jabbed something sharp into it, and inside Myfanwy, Ianto shuddered sympathetically.
"You all right, Ianto?" Owen asked. "Can you hear me?"
Riveted, Ianto watched his own body convulse and then try to sit up, obviously confused. Its mouth opened hesitantly a few times. "Ark," it said finally. "Ark, ark."
***
Ianto was actually surprised at how rapidly the team figured out that they'd fallen, landed on Jack, been stuck by the device he'd been holding, and presto: body swap. Another day at Torchwood.
He would have expected much longer, frankly.
While Tosh repaired the device, so they could use it to switch back, Ianto watched Myfanwy scrabble helplessly at the suit's breast pocket, clearly scenting the chocolate within, but not sure how to use her new mouth or hands to best effect.
Then Jack came and knelt by his head, and began to bandage him up. Ianto squawked once in protest, but then lay quiescent. He supposed it was easier with him in there, so he might as well put up with it to save himself the work later.
"She saved you, you know?" Jack said as he worked. "Dove right under you, wounds and all."
Ianto tried to shrug, but the pterodactyl's shoulders weren't designed for it.
"We're all monsters together here," Jack added softly. "The same under the skin. Traitors, murderers, misfit toys. Doesn't mean we shouldn't care for each other. Doesn't mean we don't."
Sixteen days, eighteen hours.
Ianto struggled away from Jack. Clambering over to his own body, he gently pressed it down. Using his beak, he nosed open the suit-jacket, clumsily clawing open the pocket to reveal the chocolate within. Myfanwy went for it, face first. When she pulled back, Ianto could smell the chocolate covered outline of his own face.
Sixteen days, eighteen hours and ten minutes. The count went on. Maybe it would never stop.
Snaking out his tongue, he licked gently at the besmeared cheek.
Somewhere behind him, he knew that Jack was smiling.
***
Some years later
It had been a bad day that had, in the end, turned out all right. Sure, Andy's arm was in a cast and Gwen had needed more stitches than she or Maeve had wanted to admit to him, but everyone was still alive and the bad guys hadn't even needed to be pitched into the sun, for a change. Ravi had acquitted himself well in the field (with a gun, even!) and hadn't whooped like an over-excited kid about it until they'd gotten back to the Hub.
When they'd gotten back, Jack had retreated to his office with a smile, glad everyone was alive and reasonably cheered in spite of it all, especially since he could let Ianto see to tying up the loose ends.
"I sent everyone home. Ravi's packing up," Ianto said as he strolled into Jack's office an hour later.
"Drink?" Jack offered by way of thanks.
Ianto nodded, pleasantly surprised when Jack picked up two glasses from his bar set and slide them onto his desk before pouring the scotch.
"What's the occasion?" he asked, as he took one of the glasses.
"No occasion."
Ianto gave him a suspicious look.
Jack shrugged. "It's a good team," he said.
"Yeah, they are. I mean, we… they... we... god, that's awkward. I --"
"It's fine. I get it. You're in a weird place, around here. Lines get blurred. My fault as much as anyone's."
"Yeah," Ianto said. "Anyway, yours, or ours, it doesn't matter. The team's good."
"It's funny to remember how it was before. You were so young."
"Not as young as Ravi."
"Well, not quite," Jack allowed with a smirk. "Got into even more--"
Ianto raised a harsh eyebrow, and Jack realized the other man thought he meant Lisa.
"Nah, not that. The weird, stupid stuff."
"Like what?" Ianto asked.
"You want a list of things you got into? You don't remember? How about the time you wound up in the pterodactyl body? When Ianto Jones gets into trouble, he gets into it. Literally."
"Oh," Ianto said, blushing. "That."
Jack laughed. "You know," he said consideringly, "it's too bad we weren't fucking then."
Ianto took a swig of his drink. "You have got to be joking."
There was a pause. Jack shrugged.
Ianto blinked. "Wait, you're not joking?"
"Not really, no. You know, I think we still have that device somewhere. I mean, we must. You archived it."
"I'm not sure if I'm more put off by you mucking around with pterodactyl flesh, even if I'm in it, or by you mucking around with pterodactyl consciousness while IN MY BODY."
"Hey, you let me use your body now," Jack said, smiling slyly into his drink.
"Use isn't exactly the word I would.... use."
Jack barked with laughter. "Okay, not always, but remember when --"
Whatever it was, Ianto didn't care. "And I enjoyed that very much, but you should probably stop talking if you want to do that EVER again."
"You're no fun."
"Liar."
end