Where we're going there won't be postcards... [fic]
Title: Where we're going there won't be postcards...
Author: shadowbyrd
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: Challenge 24 at jantolution
Word Count: 6612
Pairing(s): Jack/Ianto
Summary: "No man needs a vacation so much as the man who has just had one." (writer Elbert Hubbard)
A/N: Takes place in an everybody lives! AU (i.e. Toshiko is still alive and kicking, Owen's still kicking), shortly after Dr Who's series four finale. Started almost a year and a half ago as a birthday fic for laligin (it's the thought that counts, right?.
“Okay, now take a left here. No, no, your other left.”
Ianto grit his teeth. “That would be my right, Jack,” he said, turning in his seat as he backed the car up and steered them right.
Jack blinked at the map. “Right. Yeah. Sorry about that.” He sighed, brow furrowing. “Okay, we’ve got a fork in road coming up -”
“I see it.”
“- and we want to go… right.”
Ianto raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that?”
Jack looked up at the road and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, definitely right.” He looked down and frowned again. “Or left.”
Ianto groaned. “Jack!”
“Hang on.” Jack leant over, nudging Ianto over to one side and crushing him against the car door, making the car swerve.
“Jack!” Ianto tried to shoulder him aside without success.
“Hold on,” said Jack, eyes fixed on the road. He nodded and shifted over, hand hooking in the crook of Ianto’s elbow and dragging him back into place. “Definitely right,” he said brightly. “Sorry about that, the map’s confusing me.”
Ianto snapped the indicator on and rolled his eyes. “You mind if I ask why I’m the one driving us to this mysterious getaway? Because your navigating skills leave a lot to be desired.”
“It’s your car,” Jack pointed out. “And with the right equipment, I’m a fantastic navigator.”
Ianto smirked. “OS maps and Satnav not good enough for you, are they?”
“Besides,” Jack continued, ignoring him, “you didn’t want me wearing the horn out.” Eyes still fixed on the map Jack reached over and squeezed Ianto’s leg, smiling lasciviously.
Ianto slapped his hand. “Time and place. Wherever it’s going to be.”
“See? You can’t navigate, it’d ruin the surprise,” said Jack.
“It’ll be a surprise if we manage to get there before dark,” Ianto muttered, peering skywards.
“Just turn left, okay?”
“Don’t you mean right?”
“Shut up and drive.”
Sometimes after the incident with the Raston warrior robot, which saw Jack die a record twenty-seven times in one day, it was suggested by Owen, only half jokingly, that Jack should take a holiday. Unfortunately for Jack, Ianto, Toshiko, Gwen and even Martha had taken to the idea with a vengeance, particularly after Ianto and Toshiko did some digging in the archives and found that his last official holiday had been a week and half back in 1912. Jack had tried to pass off those two weeks that he was “away” as a holiday, though Martha, who had been brought in by the others to help persuade him, countered this argument with a look.
“You cannot count that as a holiday,” said Martha firmly. Jack had relented at that and tried to meet them all in the middle, suggesting that perhaps he could do with a weekend away.
“Although, now that I think about it, I think Ianto’s overdue some time off too,” said Jack.
“Everyone is,” said Ianto, collecting himself. “And in any case, I took some time off while you were on your “holiday”.”
“Oh yeah?” Jack raised an eyebrow. “Where did you go?”
Ianto swallowed, and Jack grinned, feeling the barriers giving. “I went to see some of my cousins,” he said quietly, quickly turning around to tidy something.
Gwen shook her head. “That’s not a proper holiday, Ianto, that’s family.”
“Yeah,” said Jack, sitting up slowly, innocuous smile in place. “Here’s an idea; why don’t we go away together? Spend some time alone together, have a dirty weekend or something?” The tip of his tongue slipped out the corner of his mouth.
Owen screwed his eyes shut, grimacing. “I think I speak for everyone here when I say that is more than any of us want to know.”
Toshiko shrugged. “I could stand to hear a little more,” she said, smiling sweetly. Gwen and Martha sniggered.
“We can’t go at the same time!” said Ianto, who was starting go a rather pleasant shade of pink.
“Why not?”
“That only leaves Owen and the girls. We had a bad enough time when you were - away.”
“I could fill in for Jack,” said Martha.
“And what about that friend of yours, the one who kept things ticking over for us while we were wandering the Himalayas?” Gwen asked Ianto, giving him a nudge with her elbow. “I’m sure he’d be more than happy to help.”
“Who was this?” Jack asked sharply. He hadn’t heard anything about this. If they’d been hiding things from him by putting them in the paperwork pile again he was going to have to actually start doing it again.
“A friend of mine, from Torchwood London. He’s sound, he can be trusted,” said Ianto quickly, flashing Jack an apologetic look. Turning to Gwen, he added, “And having to feed a Pterodactyl set his recovery back months. We found him hiding in the attic of a bank two weeks later, had to have him sectioned. Again -”
After that they let the matter drop.
For about two hours or so.
“Look, why don’t you just give him a call, see what he says?” Gwen asked, following Ianto into the TIC. “You said he was doing better, working part time and everything! And it’s not like he’ll be responsible for the whole place; we’ll be here this time. And if it looks like it’s too much for him, we’ll send him home.”
Ianto ignored her in favour of shuffling papers. Toshiko appeared in the doorway and raised her eyebrows. Gwen shook her head and turned back Ianto, folding her arms.
“Alright, then, let’s say that we’re counting that family thing as a holiday - which it’s not, by the way - I’ve had two holidays in that time and I’ve not been here as long as you.”
“One of those was your honeymoon,” Ianto pointed out.
“Ianto,” Gwen whined.
“Why are you so keen on packing the two of us off on holiday, anyways? You like having the run of the place?” asked Ianto, hoping Gwen would get offended and storm off.
Gwen was made of sterner stuff. “Exactly; I like being in charge and I want to boss everyone around for two weeks,” she said, grinning.
“And of course, if you had the chance to go away somewhere together you might just be able to relax and enjoy yourselves,” said Toshiko, coming to stand beside her.
“We enjoy ourselves here,” said Ianto, realising evasive action wasn’t working.
“I don’t mean going off Weevil hunting or - or whatever it is you get up to in the hothouse,” said Gwen, colouring a little. Toshiko came forward and ushered Ianto into his chair, she and Gwen perching the edge of his desk.
“Look,” Toshiko said, taking his hand, “we’ve all been through a lot lately. Especially Jack. And we were thinking that he could maybe do with reminding that there’s more to life than Torchwood.”
“Like what?” Ianto joked.
“This is why you’re going too,” Gwen informed him.
Toshiko squeezed his hand and smiled. “You’re going away because we think it would be nice for the pair of you to go away somewhere, not have to worry about work -”
“- eat a load of junk food and have lots of sex -” Gwen continued. Ianto resisted the urge to point out that he and Jack did that in Cardiff anyway - it probably wouldn’t go down well.
“- and bring home lots of stupid photos for the rest of us to laugh over and pretend we’re normal,” Toshiko finished, letting go of his hand.
Gwen pushed the phone on the counter towards him.
“He’s in Newcastle,” Ianto began.
“Just give him a call,” said Gwen, as Toshiko got to her feet. “See what he thinks.”
Ianto considered the phone warily, as though it was in the conspiracy too. He glanced at the two women out the corner of his eye.
“Anyway,” said Tosh, jerking her head towards the hub door. “Back to work.”
Gwen nodded and, shooting Ianto a pointed look, she followed Toshiko back down, the two beginning to chatter about something from their last investigation.
Sighing, Ianto pulled the phone towards him and started dialling.
As it turned out Jake was quite enthusiastic to come back. Apparently after such a long stretch in psychiatric care, he was finding jobs difficult to come by. Jack, upon hearing this, holed himself up in his office, spending a good two hours on the phone. He finally emerged with a look of tired triumph.
“It’s only going to be three days, I’m afraid,” he told Ianto. “But the place we’re going, it’ll be the best three day trip you’ve ever had.”
Ianto, thinking back to other instances when Jack had been determined to exceed expectations, was equal parts anticipation and utter terror. That Jack requested that he pack a tent had done nothing to ease Ianto’s nerves.
They finally “arrived” just after dusk in a little drive outside a small white-wash building of sixties apartments.
“We’re staying here?” Ianto asked. “What did we need the tent for?”
“Because we’re not staying here,” said Jack folding the map up along the wrong creases and throwing it in the back. “Just drive up the garage door here.”
“Are we allowed in?” asked Ianto manoeuvring the car.
“We should be,” said Jack rummaging through his pockets. “I’ve paid for one of the downstairs flats.”
Ianto frowned. “I thought you said that we’re not staying here?”
“We’re not.”
“Then why have we paid for it?”
“Because we need to park in there for the next three days,” said Jack, pointing to the garage with the keys he’d just produced from his pocket. He got out of the car and opened the garage door. Deciding that it was best to just play along for the moment Ianto drove in and parked, as Jack directed him in the space marked “2”.
“So, we’re not actually staying in flat two, we’re just paying four hundred pounds for the privilege of parking here?” asked Ianto, slamming the car door shut.
Jack, in the midst of collecting luggage from the boot, nodded absently. “Something like that. Get my coat, would you?”
Ianto dragged the greatcoat out from under the maps and folded it carefully over his arm. “Where are we going to spend the next two nights, then?” he asked, trying to take one of his bags from Jack.
Jack side-stepped out of his reach and smiled. “You’ll see.”
Ianto rolled his eyes and went to pick up the rest of the bags, saying nothing for the moment about the fact that Jack had left him the lightest ones.
Meanwhile Jack had paused in front of the door, which Ianto assumed led to the flats above, and begun looking through one of the bags. A moment later he’d dug out what looked like a dowsing rod and pointed it at the door. His hand veered sharply to the right, pointing at a pile of junk in the corner.
Jack followed it and Ianto followed Jack, wondering for the umpteenth time what the hell he’d let himself in for. He then almost walked straight into the back of Jack, who’d stopped in front of an old wardrobe and, after a moment, grinned.
“This is it,” he said, tucking the dowsing rod away. He then pulled out the universal lockpick and suckered it onto the wardrobe door. The lock clicked and the door creaked open an inch. Jack removed the lock pick and stood to one side, gesturing to the wardrobe with a flourish. “After you.”
Ianto blinked. “What?”
“This is us,” said Jack smiling.
“This is a wardrobe,” said Ianto. “Where are we going, Narnia?”
Jack reached over and opened the door for him. “Take a look.”
Ianot stared at him, trying to work out if Jack was winding him up. Jack raised his eyebrows, trying to look innocent and doing a terrible job of it. Ianto shrugged and, setting the luggage down, ducked his head and stepped inside, putting his arms out to feel for the back.
“Bloody hell!”
Jack peered in after him, grinning. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”
Ianto backed out again, almost tripping over the edge of the wardrobe. He turned to Jack, who’d thrown an arm out to steady him and asked, “Is that where we’re staying?”
“Nope.” Jack nudged him back in. “That’s where we check in.”
They came out of the wardrobe into and into a small booth, which was probably only meant to hold one humanoid at a time. (Ianto felt stupid even thinking that word) and it took them a few minutes to sort out their luggage. The booths came out into a wide, very white corridor. Jack took him left to a large reception area, also blindingly white, with a long row of serving hatches.
“Hm. Very quiet. We must have come out of season,” Jack remarked.
“And here is?” asked Ianto, staring at a kid with an ant-eater like creature with tentacles instead of a nose on a lead.
“Recreanorium,” said Jack, spotting a free window. A girl with blue skin and unusual eyes smiled at them.
“Gentlemen,” she said, her head dipping briefly. “Greetings and welcome to the Recreanorium. How may I be of assistance?”
“Hi there,” Jack smiled. He leant on the counter, flashing a charming smile at her. “We’d like a double unit for two, three days.”
The girl nodded. “Very well. Do you have a particular code in mind, or would you like to view our menu?”
“Code P24 - X93J should do us. For tonight, at least,” said Jack.
The girl nodded and made a note on her clipboard before turning it to Jack. “If I could just have confirmation?”
Ianto, expecting to see at most a lot multi-coloured forms awaiting Jack’s signature, double-taked. Instead of paper, the clipboard had a screen, with information running across the top of the screen and a picture of a grey landscape. Jack nodded. “That’s the one.”
“If I could have your information?” Jack handed her a memory stick. “Lovely. I’ll just run the details through the system and see about getting you a unit.”
“Oh yeah, I was wondering.” Jack leant forward. “Would it be possible for you to leave our unit blank until we arrive?” He wrapped an arm around Ianto, taking on that isn’t he sweet? expression Ianto so hated. “Only, it’s my manfriend’s first time here, and I’m sure he’d be interested to see how it works.”
The girl answered with a, “Certainly, sir. And I hope you enjoy your first time with us,” directed at Ianto and an aw, he really is expression.
She tapped her pen against the clipboard a few times and smiled brightly. She reached the counter and handed Jack what looked like a Gameboy cartridge.
“Your unit will stay blank until you insert this,” she said. “If you want to change it, you can order new cartridges from your unit’s console, or you can come and get one from reception and browse in one of our viewing suites.”
“Thanks,” said Jack, taking the cartridge and a memory stick. He then linked arms with Ianto and dragged him off to the other side of the reception.
“Hey, what about the bags -” Ianto began turning around.
Jack pulled back. “They’ll be in our unit when we get there,” he said.
“How? Elves?”
Jack pulled a face. “I don’t know. It’s generally considered bad form to ask.”
“And what did you mean by leaving the unit blank, or is this going to be one of your “wait and see” things?” asked Ianto.
Jack smirked. “Wait and see.”
The lifts were much like the booths that they had come out in, but more spacious (to Jack’s apparent disappointment). Jack inserted the memory stick into a panel where Ianto would have expected there to be buttons, and moments later they were in yet another white corridor.
“Unit 456. Please enjoy your stay,” said a cool voice as the lift doors opened.
Ianto fell into step behind Jack, who was squinting at the tiny black numbers of the unit door. “You think people ever get lost in here?”
“The people who wander the corridors do,” said Jack. “Mostly people just stay in their rooms. Although, there was that one time, some terrorists infiltrated the workforce and changed the numbers on all the doors one night.”
“Sounds mild for terrorists.”
“Not really. Caused some serious damage to some of the clientele.” Jack stopped, leaning forward and squinting at one of the doors.
“You ever thought about reading glasses?” asked Ianto.
“Once. The Clark Kent jokes got old very quickly. Here we are!” Jack pulled the memory stick out of his pocket and inserted in where there would have been a keyhole in a normal hotel.
The door opened and they came into… a square, white room, empty but for their luggage piled neatly in one corner. Ianto walked in while Jack held the door open for him.
“Please tell me that this is the room blank.”
“Don’t worry,” said Jack, kicking the door shut behind him. “It’s not going to stay like this for long. Watch.”
There were another two cavities in the wall by the door; a small one for the memory stick and larger one Ianto assumed was for the cartridge. Jack inserted the memory stick and a small, blank control panel pushed up out of the wall. He then inserted the cartridge and looked around at Ianto, grinning.
“Are you ready?”
“Get on with it!”
“Last of the great romantics,” said Jack, pressing one of the buttons.
The walls trembled. They didn’t shake, not like they should have done, but they rippled, as if they were made of water. The walls and floor sank into a dull purple-ish grey, and the ceiling went ink black like flipping a switch.
Then the walls began to move, stretching back and hollowing out, almost falling away completely, until there was just a great empty stretch of land. But… it didn’t really look like earth; the soil (assuming that was what it was) was completely the wrong colour, and gave differently under Ianto’s feet, like several lumps of perpetually wet sand. It was strange.
“Where are we?”
“One of the smaller planets in the Thal system,” said Jack. “A replication of it, anyway.”
“I suppose if we were actually on the planet we’d have trouble breathing, wouldn’t we?” Ianto remarked, taking in the completely black sky.
“The planet doesn’t exist anymore,” Jack said, removing a small from the pile of luggage and opening it. “Its sun went Supernova and engulfed the entire system.”
“Why are we here?” Ianto asked, an unpleasant feeling rising as Jack unpacked and put together a telescope.
“To watch.”
“Watch? You mean, watch it go - why in the hell would we want to do that?”
“Hold,” said Jack, passing him the telescope. He then went back to the case and removed the stand, extending it out and setting it down. Taking the telescope from Ianto he fixed it in place and squinted skywards.
“Should be somewhere over…” He moved the telescope and looked through it. “Yeah. There we are.”
“If you’re quite done, Patrick Moore,” Ianto began.
Jack stepped back. “Take a look.”
Ianto frowned, asking, “What?” even as he stooped to look through the eyepiece.
He was looking at a planet. It was rather unremarkable; perhaps because Ianto had only actually ever seen eight planets (or nine - it really depended on whether or not Pluto counted that week). It reminded him of Earth, though it was more reddish in colour than blue.
“What’s it called?” he asked.
“Skaro.” There was a rustle of clothing as Jack leant down next to him, his next words warm in Ianto’s right ear. “It’s the planet that birthed the Dalek race.”
Ianto turned to Jack. “What?”
Jack straightened. “Way back in the day there was a war between two factions; the Kaleds and the Thals. There’s not enough left in the way of records or history to tell us whether they were different species or just different nationalities. Whatever the reason they went for each other like cats and dogs - all their resources were poured into it. By the end they were fighting with spears and wearing animal skins.”
“And the Daleks were developed as some kind of weapon?”
Jack scoffed. “You’d think, wouldn’t you?” he said bitterly. “It was the Kaled scientists. They knew that with all the nuclear weapons they’d been throwing at each other that they were destroying their planet. They’d need to adapt to survive. One particular scientist, Davros, created creatures that he believed would be the final Kaled form, and then designed a travel machine in which to house it. He was obsessed that they should survive and developed them to be “emotionless”.” Jack wagged his fingers in inverted commas. “But they weren’t. They had emotions, just the worst ones.”
“What happened to him?”
“They turned on him - didn’t kill him, unfortunately. He lived long enough to create another race of Daleks, subservient to him.” Jack looked at the sky and smiled. “He dies today.”
“Really?”
Jack sighed and gave Ianto a weak smile. “Here’s hoping.”
While they were waiting - or rather, while Jack was waiting, Ianto was adamant that he wasn’t going to watch - they set about making dinner of bacon rolls.
“I have some wine for later,” Jack said, passing Ianto a canteen of water for the coffee.
“Right,” said Ianto. After we’ve watched the lights and the genocide. How romantic.
They ate in quiet, Ianto only offering one word replies and answers to Jack’s attempts to make conversation. Eventually Jack took the hint and they sat in relatively comfortable silence.
Jack checked his watch and jumped to his feet.
“Time?” asked Ianto.
“Not yet. It’ll take a few seconds - there! You see it?”
It was hard to miss it; the great ball of light shot across the sky at a phenomenal speed.
Ianto stared. “How can it be travelling so fast?” he asked Jack, who had sat back down next to him.
“Time Lord science,” said Jack quietly. He reached out to hold Ianto’s hand, twining their fingers tightly together. “It’s incredible, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Ianto couldn’t think what to say. What to think. It was death, death on a scale beyond anything he was capable of imagining. But something in him, a primal instinct, or perhaps part of him that hadn’t healed over from Canary Wharf wanted to see it burn. Wanted to be close enough to hear the screams.
To say that that disturbed him was something of an understatement. And perhaps it showed; Jack wrapped his arm around Ianto’s middle and hitched him closer.
“It’s called the Hand of Omega,” said Jack. “A weapon the Time Lords left in the Doctor’s possession.”
“He was behind this, was he?” asked Ianto. He was starting to wonder about that man.
“More making sure they all fell on their own stolen sword,” Jack said.
“Is there anything else left on that planet? Any other life forms?”
“Nope. The Daleks either wiped them out or forced them off the planet and then, when they had the technology, gave chase.”
Ianto clenched his hands over Jack’s.
The light punched through the planet’s atmosphere and into the surface, almost cracking the planet in two on impact. The explosion was much too bright; Ianto had to close his eyes. Jack clearly had the same thought, reaching around to cover his eyes. For a good five minutes it was as if the whole sky was on fire.
Eventually the glow died down, the debris from the planet already creating a glimmering dust cloud.
“Well,” said Ianto.
“Yeah,” said Jack. “Wine?”
“Yes,” said Ianto immediately.
Handing Ianto a plastic wine glass, Jack cleared his throat. “I realise that this might not have been the best place to pick -”
“Oh, you’ve worked that out, now, have you?” asked Ianto.
“ - but after what’s happened, I kinda needed it.”
Ianto nodded slowly. “Yes. I understand, I think.”
Jack smiled and squeezed his hand. “You can go down to the Suite tomorrow, pick something more fun out. Until then, I think we should try to enjoy the camping experience while it’s here. How’s that sound?”
“Just so long as we don’t have to play any drinking games,” said Ianto. He really didn’t want to get drunk, or deal with Jack getting hammered just now.
“Oh no, nothing like that at all,” said Jack, in that cheerful voice that made Ianto worry for his sanity. “I say we tell a few stories instead.”
“You’re going first,” Ianto warned him.
“Fair enough.” Jack cracked his knuckles. “You want to hear the one about Cecil Kra’kocabeth?”
Ianto frowned. “Is that the plant thing or the squid?”
“The squid.”
Ianto smiled and nodded. “Let’s hear that one.”
Jack sat up straighter and began, providing the whole cast of voices and various (at times a little too graphic) gestures and mimes. Ianto sat back, laughing and cringing and doing his utmost to keep the stupid grin off his face. It really wouldn’t do for Jack to know how much Ianto liked listening to his stories.
“Ok, c’mon,” said Jack, slapping him on the leg. “I’ve talked myself hoarse - no doubt part of your plan all along -”
“You’re on to me,” said Ianto, holding up his hands.
“- now it’s your turn.”
“I don’t think I could ever top that,” said Ianto, grimacing when he caught the double meaning. “Don’t!” he warned.
“Well, if we're telling tales...” Jack trailed off, looking pointedly at Ianto.
Ianto shifted, his smile not sitting quite right. “Yeah?”
“Why all those years drifting? I mean, I'd like to think that I know you pretty well by now,” Jack paused here for the obligatory dirty grin, which had Ianto rolling his eyes and trying to keep from snickering into his wineglass, “but, the idea of you travelling for all that time, just wandering place to place... I don't know. Doesn't seem you.”
Ianto cleared his throat. “I was a bit different back then,” he said, taking a sip of wine. “You know how it is when you’re young -”
“A dim and distant memory for such a mature thing as you, I’m sure,” said Jack. He laughed when Ianto calmly gave him the finger and started again.
“Anyway. I was younger, and there was a lot of the world I hadn’t seen. Wanted to find myself, I suppose.”
Jack watched him for a moment. “And that was the appeal?”
Ianto shrugged. “I dunno. Just liked travelling. Always did, ever since I was a kid. My dad used to say I was the only kid he knew who you could drive all the way to the seaside and would still be happy if it rained all day and you had to stay in the car,” he said, smiling at the memory. “Just... sometimes actually getting there gets in the way of the journey, y'know? You just don't want it to end.”
The silence stretched as Jack waited for Ianto to continue and Ianto drank his wine. Finally Jack abandoned his own - empty - wineglass and sprawled in Ianto's lap, giving him a poke in the stomach. “You were saying?”
Ianto ducked his head, which didn't quite work now that Jack was where he was, and so looked skywards instead. “When you're going somewhere - it doesn't matter where, you can be flying to America, driving to Cornwall for two weeks, getting on the bus to work, walking to the corner shop for the paper - when you're travelling, nothing else matters but the journey. Just so long as you keep going nothing else matters.” Ianto frowned. “It's almost like you don't exist. In a way.” He coughed, fingering the stem of his glass and went on, “And it's like - it's the closest thing you've got to freedom. Nothing else matters; you have no responsibility, no one's expecting anything of you - you’re free. You free and yet you have some kind of meaning.”
Jack was quiet. Ianto, emboldened by this, continued.
“But then, after a while it - you always miss home, the people you have there. But then, you go on long enough you start missing other places. Other people. And you start thinking to yourself what would it be like if I'd stopped there? Would I have liked it? Made friends... found someone... but you know that if you went back there it wouldn't be the same. You wouldn't be seeing it for the first time, those people might not be there anymore. It wouldn't be as... special, I suppose.” Ianto swallowed and looked down. Jack was staring out into space, that odd sad look in his eyes. Ianto hated that look.
“Sorry, I'm probably not making any sense.”
It seemed to jerk Jack back and he sat up, grinning. “I don't know. I think making a little too much sense given how much this you've had.” He snatched Ianto's wineglass and drained the last of it, kissing Ianto soundly before he could make any protest.
As they sank back onto the ground, Ianto pushed against Jack’s chest, licking his lips as they parted. “You want to take this to the tent?”
Jack tilted his head back. “Not really. Stars are kind of romantic, don’t you think?”
“Stars, yes. Suns going supernova and wiping out entire species not so much.” Ianto turned his head to the side and muttered, “Even if it is the Daleks.”
Jack sat up and ran his fingers through Ianto’s hair. “Fair enough.” He dropped a kiss on Ianto’s cheek and rolled off him, holding the tent flap open. “After you.”
Ianto was starting to drift off in the mess of sleeping bags, extra blankets and pillows when next to him, Jack suddenly asked, “What does it mean?”
Ianto rolled his eyes when Jack didn’t elaborate. “Well, I don’t how it translates wherever you’re from, but down my way when two people do that it tends to mean I really like you.”
“I mean finding yourself.”
Ianto frowned. “I’m fairly sure it means finding yourself, unless you want to have a deep psychological conversation about it?”
“Why would you want to?”
“Find yourself?” Ianto had never been a fan of having conversations in the dark. There was no way of telling where the other person going, what they were really trying to ask or tell. It was even worse with Jack. “So you… know who are, I suppose.”
“Why d’you need to know?”
Ianto sighed. He could himself slipping under. “It’s a wise man who knows himself, right?”
“I think you’re mixing your quotes there.”
“Whatever,” Ianto mumbled. “Why wouldn’t you want to find yourself?”
For a few blissful moments Jack was quiet. Then he said, “What if you’re not a good person to know?”
Ianto rolled his eyes and hugged Jack to him. “I like you well enough. And unless you want to insult my tastes, you might want to think about shutting up and going to sleep.”
Jack smiled. “I love you, too.”
“What do you want to do today?” Ianto asked. “Is this planet any good for climbing?”
Jack stretched. “Nah. Only things it’s good for are the views and swimming, and I’m afraid that’s very much an either/or option.” He slapped Ianto’s leg. “You should nip back down to reception, view the menus. I did only ask for this planet for the night.”
“You’re not coming?” asked Ianto, uncertain.
“Fancy a bit of a lie-in,” said Jack, rolling over and commandeering Ianto’s sleeping bag to add to his nest. “You go on ahead. Pick something fun. I’ll choose tomorrow.”
Ianto couldn’t help the smile. “Lazy git,” he said, nudging Jack with his foot.
“As charged,” said Jack happily. “If you get lost there’ll be little buttons with an “i” for information around. Push one of those and select directions.”
Down at reception Ianto spotted the blue skinned girl from yesterday and hung around pretending to be interested in the ceiling patterns until she was free.
The suite was a bare little room with a high ceiling that put Ianto in mind of an old sci-fi film. There was a small platform in the centre where two or three people could stand and view the blank walls. He hopped up, leaning back to look at the ceiling, and the many mirrors set into… whatever it was the walls were made of.
“They’re very impressive aren’t they?” said the girl, appearing at his elbow. Ianto would have jumped if he weren’t so used to doing it himself. “I’m told it helps with the projections.”
“Projections?”
She cast him a sly smile. “You’ll see in a moment.” She scrawled something on her clipboard and then tapped it with her pen. There was a low hum from the walls and one by one hundreds of symbols and pictures, not dissimilar to the desktop icons on Ianto’s old computer back in the TIC, flickered into the air around them.
“Now, I understand from your details that you’re from the “Milky Way”, so let’s just narrow these down - would you like to view the Andromeda files as well, or shall we just stick to your own galaxy for now?”
“Er...”
“Ah, yes. This is your first time with us, isn’t it?” she said. She scribbled something else down. “Let’s keep it simple for now, stay in your home galaxy. Are you interested in any particular planets or moons?”
Ianto blinked. “I don’t know that many beyond Neptune. Unless Pluto counts as a planet?”
“All depends what time period you pick,” said the girl. “Shall we stick to your home planet, then?”
Ianto bit his lip. Jack had said pick something fun… “Would that narrow down my choices much?”
“It would leave you with fewer programmes to choose from,” the girl said carefully. “Though it would simply be a case of narrowing down a few million to a few tens of thousands. Of course, that’s only counting the historical programmes. We’ve some very popular fictional ones such as Tolkien, Star Trek. We even have one called “Eastenders” if that means anything to you.”
Ianto bit his tongue and looked away, pretending to examine one of the avatars. She was doing such a good job, it would be rude to laugh. “I think I’d like to stick to the historical for now.”
“Very well.” More icons vanished. “We also have a few pseudo-historical programmes,” she pointed to an icon of an Arthurian-looking knight, “which straddle fiction and non-fiction. Customers tend to be dismissive of them, though they’re well worth looking at.”
Ianto shrugged. “Nothing wrong with straddling.” Then he grimaced when he realised what he’d said.
The girl pursed her lips, looking very intently at her clipboard. “Quite. Did you have anything particular in mind?”
Ianto had been unable to make up his mind and in the end the girl had politely suggested that he take cartridges for all the ones he liked the look of and think it over in his unit. He would, she assured him, only be charged for the one that he used, provided that he returned them all intact.
By the time he returned to their unit (having only got lost once) Jack was dressed and had taken the tent down.
“Good morning.”
Ianto smirked and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Just. “I think you mean afternoon.”
“Nope. See?” Jack pointed at the shadow one of the trees was casting. “Technically still morning. Most of this planet’s days are thirty hours long.”
“Most?”
Jack shrugged. “It has a pretty funky orbit. Hey, new cartridges!” he said, taking them from Ianto. “What did you get?”
“I thought Ancient Egypt could be interesting,” said Ianto, seating himself in one of the camping chairs Jack had neglected to pack away.
Jack frowned. “This isn’t the historically accurate one, is it?”
“Not much point in going if it isn’t is there? Unless you wanted to be chased around by a mummy.”
Jack scrunched his nose. “It could have been fun. The ones they do here are usually really easy, though and it costs to adjust the difficulty level.” He put the Egypt cartridge to one side.
“I thought you’d have liked Ancient Egypt,” Ianto remarked. “All those half naked people wandering around, seeing the pyramids going up -”
“It would be fascinating to see, especially with all the kilts, but we’re a bit… how to put it…”
“Greek?” asked Ianto jokingly.
“Well, yeah.” Jack looked at the next one. “Oh, the Blitz.”
“Well, I figured, what with your coat,” Ianto began. Jack didn’t sound too thrilled.
“No, yeah. It’s a good choice. Is it the historically accurate version?”
Ianto pulled a face. “Sorry, no. They’d run out.”
“No, that’s okay. Maybe if we have a look at that a little later,” said Jack carefully, putting it to one side. Seeing the next cartridge he stopped dead. “Oh, you didn’t!”
Ianto pretended to look sheepish. He did a very poor job of it. “It would seem I did.”
Some five minutes later Jack had switched the cartridges and the two of them were stood, dressed as officers of the royal navy (Ianto’s hat was slightly bigger than Jack’s, but Jack didn’t mention this - presumably he was planning on stealing it sometime later), on the deck of a frigate, with some rather impressive rigging.
Jack looked around the ship and grinned. “God, this takes me back!”
“You like it then?” Ianto asked.
“Love it!” cried Jack, throwing his arms wide. “And you, for choosing it,” he added, beaming at Ianto. “Now, if you please, Mr Jones, we’d best be heading off.”
Ianto considered for a moment and nodded. “Very good, Captain. I believe we have an Easterly wind.” He then tucked his hands behind his back expectantly. Jack, prompted by the lack of footsteps, turned about and jerked his head at Ianto. Ianto stared back.
“A pity that this ship has not come with a complete crew to match,” said Jack pointedly, raising his eyebrows.
“It is indeed, Captain,” said Ianto, without moving.
Jack frowned, tipping his head that he might look down his nose at Ianto. “Mr Jones,” he said firmly. “I have spoken.”
“You have indeed, Captain,” Ianto agreed.
“Then why do you not obey?” asked Jack, falling into the appropriate speech patterns. “We agreed, did we not, Mr Jones, that I should be Captain aboard this vessel?”
“We did indeed, Captain. However, I, Commodore Jones, have the command of this vessel.”
“Commodore? That’s cheating!” Jack whined, suddenly sounding rather more like a twenty-first century brat than an eighteenth century sea captain.
“Cheating doesn’t come into it,” said Ianto evenly. “Why do you think I’m wearing this stupid hat?”
Jack shrugged. “Historical accuracy?” The two of them paused a moment then fell around laughing. Eventually Ianto, with the promise of a few favours, managed to have Jack running around and actually doing a half decent job of manning the ship.
“Are we likely to come across anybody?” Ianto asked. “Other “navy” ships, I mean?”
“Other guests?” asked Jack, who had now forgone his hat, along with his jacket and shirt. “Shouldn’t think so.”
Ianto, removing his own hat and running a hand through his hair, frowned. “What about the French? Or the Spanish?”
Jack shook his head. “Shouldn’t do.” He looked good with a ponytail, Ianto thought. The blue ribbon brought out his eyes.
“Pirates?” asked Ianto hopefully.
Jack smirked, swatting him with one of the slimmer lengths of rope that he had been labouring over knotting. “Now you’re just being silly.”
“Pirates, Ianto? Now you’re just being silly -”
Author: shadowbyrd
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: Challenge 24 at jantolution
Word Count: 6612
Pairing(s): Jack/Ianto
Summary: "No man needs a vacation so much as the man who has just had one." (writer Elbert Hubbard)
A/N: Takes place in an everybody lives! AU (i.e. Toshiko is still alive and kicking, Owen's still kicking), shortly after Dr Who's series four finale. Started almost a year and a half ago as a birthday fic for laligin (it's the thought that counts, right?.
“Okay, now take a left here. No, no, your other left.”
Ianto grit his teeth. “That would be my right, Jack,” he said, turning in his seat as he backed the car up and steered them right.
Jack blinked at the map. “Right. Yeah. Sorry about that.” He sighed, brow furrowing. “Okay, we’ve got a fork in road coming up -”
“I see it.”
“- and we want to go… right.”
Ianto raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that?”
Jack looked up at the road and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, definitely right.” He looked down and frowned again. “Or left.”
Ianto groaned. “Jack!”
“Hang on.” Jack leant over, nudging Ianto over to one side and crushing him against the car door, making the car swerve.
“Jack!” Ianto tried to shoulder him aside without success.
“Hold on,” said Jack, eyes fixed on the road. He nodded and shifted over, hand hooking in the crook of Ianto’s elbow and dragging him back into place. “Definitely right,” he said brightly. “Sorry about that, the map’s confusing me.”
Ianto snapped the indicator on and rolled his eyes. “You mind if I ask why I’m the one driving us to this mysterious getaway? Because your navigating skills leave a lot to be desired.”
“It’s your car,” Jack pointed out. “And with the right equipment, I’m a fantastic navigator.”
Ianto smirked. “OS maps and Satnav not good enough for you, are they?”
“Besides,” Jack continued, ignoring him, “you didn’t want me wearing the horn out.” Eyes still fixed on the map Jack reached over and squeezed Ianto’s leg, smiling lasciviously.
Ianto slapped his hand. “Time and place. Wherever it’s going to be.”
“See? You can’t navigate, it’d ruin the surprise,” said Jack.
“It’ll be a surprise if we manage to get there before dark,” Ianto muttered, peering skywards.
“Just turn left, okay?”
“Don’t you mean right?”
“Shut up and drive.”
Sometimes after the incident with the Raston warrior robot, which saw Jack die a record twenty-seven times in one day, it was suggested by Owen, only half jokingly, that Jack should take a holiday. Unfortunately for Jack, Ianto, Toshiko, Gwen and even Martha had taken to the idea with a vengeance, particularly after Ianto and Toshiko did some digging in the archives and found that his last official holiday had been a week and half back in 1912. Jack had tried to pass off those two weeks that he was “away” as a holiday, though Martha, who had been brought in by the others to help persuade him, countered this argument with a look.
“You cannot count that as a holiday,” said Martha firmly. Jack had relented at that and tried to meet them all in the middle, suggesting that perhaps he could do with a weekend away.
“Although, now that I think about it, I think Ianto’s overdue some time off too,” said Jack.
“Everyone is,” said Ianto, collecting himself. “And in any case, I took some time off while you were on your “holiday”.”
“Oh yeah?” Jack raised an eyebrow. “Where did you go?”
Ianto swallowed, and Jack grinned, feeling the barriers giving. “I went to see some of my cousins,” he said quietly, quickly turning around to tidy something.
Gwen shook her head. “That’s not a proper holiday, Ianto, that’s family.”
“Yeah,” said Jack, sitting up slowly, innocuous smile in place. “Here’s an idea; why don’t we go away together? Spend some time alone together, have a dirty weekend or something?” The tip of his tongue slipped out the corner of his mouth.
Owen screwed his eyes shut, grimacing. “I think I speak for everyone here when I say that is more than any of us want to know.”
Toshiko shrugged. “I could stand to hear a little more,” she said, smiling sweetly. Gwen and Martha sniggered.
“We can’t go at the same time!” said Ianto, who was starting go a rather pleasant shade of pink.
“Why not?”
“That only leaves Owen and the girls. We had a bad enough time when you were - away.”
“I could fill in for Jack,” said Martha.
“And what about that friend of yours, the one who kept things ticking over for us while we were wandering the Himalayas?” Gwen asked Ianto, giving him a nudge with her elbow. “I’m sure he’d be more than happy to help.”
“Who was this?” Jack asked sharply. He hadn’t heard anything about this. If they’d been hiding things from him by putting them in the paperwork pile again he was going to have to actually start doing it again.
“A friend of mine, from Torchwood London. He’s sound, he can be trusted,” said Ianto quickly, flashing Jack an apologetic look. Turning to Gwen, he added, “And having to feed a Pterodactyl set his recovery back months. We found him hiding in the attic of a bank two weeks later, had to have him sectioned. Again -”
After that they let the matter drop.
For about two hours or so.
“Look, why don’t you just give him a call, see what he says?” Gwen asked, following Ianto into the TIC. “You said he was doing better, working part time and everything! And it’s not like he’ll be responsible for the whole place; we’ll be here this time. And if it looks like it’s too much for him, we’ll send him home.”
Ianto ignored her in favour of shuffling papers. Toshiko appeared in the doorway and raised her eyebrows. Gwen shook her head and turned back Ianto, folding her arms.
“Alright, then, let’s say that we’re counting that family thing as a holiday - which it’s not, by the way - I’ve had two holidays in that time and I’ve not been here as long as you.”
“One of those was your honeymoon,” Ianto pointed out.
“Ianto,” Gwen whined.
“Why are you so keen on packing the two of us off on holiday, anyways? You like having the run of the place?” asked Ianto, hoping Gwen would get offended and storm off.
Gwen was made of sterner stuff. “Exactly; I like being in charge and I want to boss everyone around for two weeks,” she said, grinning.
“And of course, if you had the chance to go away somewhere together you might just be able to relax and enjoy yourselves,” said Toshiko, coming to stand beside her.
“We enjoy ourselves here,” said Ianto, realising evasive action wasn’t working.
“I don’t mean going off Weevil hunting or - or whatever it is you get up to in the hothouse,” said Gwen, colouring a little. Toshiko came forward and ushered Ianto into his chair, she and Gwen perching the edge of his desk.
“Look,” Toshiko said, taking his hand, “we’ve all been through a lot lately. Especially Jack. And we were thinking that he could maybe do with reminding that there’s more to life than Torchwood.”
“Like what?” Ianto joked.
“This is why you’re going too,” Gwen informed him.
Toshiko squeezed his hand and smiled. “You’re going away because we think it would be nice for the pair of you to go away somewhere, not have to worry about work -”
“- eat a load of junk food and have lots of sex -” Gwen continued. Ianto resisted the urge to point out that he and Jack did that in Cardiff anyway - it probably wouldn’t go down well.
“- and bring home lots of stupid photos for the rest of us to laugh over and pretend we’re normal,” Toshiko finished, letting go of his hand.
Gwen pushed the phone on the counter towards him.
“He’s in Newcastle,” Ianto began.
“Just give him a call,” said Gwen, as Toshiko got to her feet. “See what he thinks.”
Ianto considered the phone warily, as though it was in the conspiracy too. He glanced at the two women out the corner of his eye.
“Anyway,” said Tosh, jerking her head towards the hub door. “Back to work.”
Gwen nodded and, shooting Ianto a pointed look, she followed Toshiko back down, the two beginning to chatter about something from their last investigation.
Sighing, Ianto pulled the phone towards him and started dialling.
As it turned out Jake was quite enthusiastic to come back. Apparently after such a long stretch in psychiatric care, he was finding jobs difficult to come by. Jack, upon hearing this, holed himself up in his office, spending a good two hours on the phone. He finally emerged with a look of tired triumph.
“It’s only going to be three days, I’m afraid,” he told Ianto. “But the place we’re going, it’ll be the best three day trip you’ve ever had.”
Ianto, thinking back to other instances when Jack had been determined to exceed expectations, was equal parts anticipation and utter terror. That Jack requested that he pack a tent had done nothing to ease Ianto’s nerves.
They finally “arrived” just after dusk in a little drive outside a small white-wash building of sixties apartments.
“We’re staying here?” Ianto asked. “What did we need the tent for?”
“Because we’re not staying here,” said Jack folding the map up along the wrong creases and throwing it in the back. “Just drive up the garage door here.”
“Are we allowed in?” asked Ianto manoeuvring the car.
“We should be,” said Jack rummaging through his pockets. “I’ve paid for one of the downstairs flats.”
Ianto frowned. “I thought you said that we’re not staying here?”
“We’re not.”
“Then why have we paid for it?”
“Because we need to park in there for the next three days,” said Jack, pointing to the garage with the keys he’d just produced from his pocket. He got out of the car and opened the garage door. Deciding that it was best to just play along for the moment Ianto drove in and parked, as Jack directed him in the space marked “2”.
“So, we’re not actually staying in flat two, we’re just paying four hundred pounds for the privilege of parking here?” asked Ianto, slamming the car door shut.
Jack, in the midst of collecting luggage from the boot, nodded absently. “Something like that. Get my coat, would you?”
Ianto dragged the greatcoat out from under the maps and folded it carefully over his arm. “Where are we going to spend the next two nights, then?” he asked, trying to take one of his bags from Jack.
Jack side-stepped out of his reach and smiled. “You’ll see.”
Ianto rolled his eyes and went to pick up the rest of the bags, saying nothing for the moment about the fact that Jack had left him the lightest ones.
Meanwhile Jack had paused in front of the door, which Ianto assumed led to the flats above, and begun looking through one of the bags. A moment later he’d dug out what looked like a dowsing rod and pointed it at the door. His hand veered sharply to the right, pointing at a pile of junk in the corner.
Jack followed it and Ianto followed Jack, wondering for the umpteenth time what the hell he’d let himself in for. He then almost walked straight into the back of Jack, who’d stopped in front of an old wardrobe and, after a moment, grinned.
“This is it,” he said, tucking the dowsing rod away. He then pulled out the universal lockpick and suckered it onto the wardrobe door. The lock clicked and the door creaked open an inch. Jack removed the lock pick and stood to one side, gesturing to the wardrobe with a flourish. “After you.”
Ianto blinked. “What?”
“This is us,” said Jack smiling.
“This is a wardrobe,” said Ianto. “Where are we going, Narnia?”
Jack reached over and opened the door for him. “Take a look.”
Ianot stared at him, trying to work out if Jack was winding him up. Jack raised his eyebrows, trying to look innocent and doing a terrible job of it. Ianto shrugged and, setting the luggage down, ducked his head and stepped inside, putting his arms out to feel for the back.
“Bloody hell!”
Jack peered in after him, grinning. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”
Ianto backed out again, almost tripping over the edge of the wardrobe. He turned to Jack, who’d thrown an arm out to steady him and asked, “Is that where we’re staying?”
“Nope.” Jack nudged him back in. “That’s where we check in.”
They came out of the wardrobe into and into a small booth, which was probably only meant to hold one humanoid at a time. (Ianto felt stupid even thinking that word) and it took them a few minutes to sort out their luggage. The booths came out into a wide, very white corridor. Jack took him left to a large reception area, also blindingly white, with a long row of serving hatches.
“Hm. Very quiet. We must have come out of season,” Jack remarked.
“And here is?” asked Ianto, staring at a kid with an ant-eater like creature with tentacles instead of a nose on a lead.
“Recreanorium,” said Jack, spotting a free window. A girl with blue skin and unusual eyes smiled at them.
“Gentlemen,” she said, her head dipping briefly. “Greetings and welcome to the Recreanorium. How may I be of assistance?”
“Hi there,” Jack smiled. He leant on the counter, flashing a charming smile at her. “We’d like a double unit for two, three days.”
The girl nodded. “Very well. Do you have a particular code in mind, or would you like to view our menu?”
“Code P24 - X93J should do us. For tonight, at least,” said Jack.
The girl nodded and made a note on her clipboard before turning it to Jack. “If I could just have confirmation?”
Ianto, expecting to see at most a lot multi-coloured forms awaiting Jack’s signature, double-taked. Instead of paper, the clipboard had a screen, with information running across the top of the screen and a picture of a grey landscape. Jack nodded. “That’s the one.”
“If I could have your information?” Jack handed her a memory stick. “Lovely. I’ll just run the details through the system and see about getting you a unit.”
“Oh yeah, I was wondering.” Jack leant forward. “Would it be possible for you to leave our unit blank until we arrive?” He wrapped an arm around Ianto, taking on that isn’t he sweet? expression Ianto so hated. “Only, it’s my manfriend’s first time here, and I’m sure he’d be interested to see how it works.”
The girl answered with a, “Certainly, sir. And I hope you enjoy your first time with us,” directed at Ianto and an aw, he really is expression.
She tapped her pen against the clipboard a few times and smiled brightly. She reached the counter and handed Jack what looked like a Gameboy cartridge.
“Your unit will stay blank until you insert this,” she said. “If you want to change it, you can order new cartridges from your unit’s console, or you can come and get one from reception and browse in one of our viewing suites.”
“Thanks,” said Jack, taking the cartridge and a memory stick. He then linked arms with Ianto and dragged him off to the other side of the reception.
“Hey, what about the bags -” Ianto began turning around.
Jack pulled back. “They’ll be in our unit when we get there,” he said.
“How? Elves?”
Jack pulled a face. “I don’t know. It’s generally considered bad form to ask.”
“And what did you mean by leaving the unit blank, or is this going to be one of your “wait and see” things?” asked Ianto.
Jack smirked. “Wait and see.”
The lifts were much like the booths that they had come out in, but more spacious (to Jack’s apparent disappointment). Jack inserted the memory stick into a panel where Ianto would have expected there to be buttons, and moments later they were in yet another white corridor.
“Unit 456. Please enjoy your stay,” said a cool voice as the lift doors opened.
Ianto fell into step behind Jack, who was squinting at the tiny black numbers of the unit door. “You think people ever get lost in here?”
“The people who wander the corridors do,” said Jack. “Mostly people just stay in their rooms. Although, there was that one time, some terrorists infiltrated the workforce and changed the numbers on all the doors one night.”
“Sounds mild for terrorists.”
“Not really. Caused some serious damage to some of the clientele.” Jack stopped, leaning forward and squinting at one of the doors.
“You ever thought about reading glasses?” asked Ianto.
“Once. The Clark Kent jokes got old very quickly. Here we are!” Jack pulled the memory stick out of his pocket and inserted in where there would have been a keyhole in a normal hotel.
The door opened and they came into… a square, white room, empty but for their luggage piled neatly in one corner. Ianto walked in while Jack held the door open for him.
“Please tell me that this is the room blank.”
“Don’t worry,” said Jack, kicking the door shut behind him. “It’s not going to stay like this for long. Watch.”
There were another two cavities in the wall by the door; a small one for the memory stick and larger one Ianto assumed was for the cartridge. Jack inserted the memory stick and a small, blank control panel pushed up out of the wall. He then inserted the cartridge and looked around at Ianto, grinning.
“Are you ready?”
“Get on with it!”
“Last of the great romantics,” said Jack, pressing one of the buttons.
The walls trembled. They didn’t shake, not like they should have done, but they rippled, as if they were made of water. The walls and floor sank into a dull purple-ish grey, and the ceiling went ink black like flipping a switch.
Then the walls began to move, stretching back and hollowing out, almost falling away completely, until there was just a great empty stretch of land. But… it didn’t really look like earth; the soil (assuming that was what it was) was completely the wrong colour, and gave differently under Ianto’s feet, like several lumps of perpetually wet sand. It was strange.
“Where are we?”
“One of the smaller planets in the Thal system,” said Jack. “A replication of it, anyway.”
“I suppose if we were actually on the planet we’d have trouble breathing, wouldn’t we?” Ianto remarked, taking in the completely black sky.
“The planet doesn’t exist anymore,” Jack said, removing a small from the pile of luggage and opening it. “Its sun went Supernova and engulfed the entire system.”
“Why are we here?” Ianto asked, an unpleasant feeling rising as Jack unpacked and put together a telescope.
“To watch.”
“Watch? You mean, watch it go - why in the hell would we want to do that?”
“Hold,” said Jack, passing him the telescope. He then went back to the case and removed the stand, extending it out and setting it down. Taking the telescope from Ianto he fixed it in place and squinted skywards.
“Should be somewhere over…” He moved the telescope and looked through it. “Yeah. There we are.”
“If you’re quite done, Patrick Moore,” Ianto began.
Jack stepped back. “Take a look.”
Ianto frowned, asking, “What?” even as he stooped to look through the eyepiece.
He was looking at a planet. It was rather unremarkable; perhaps because Ianto had only actually ever seen eight planets (or nine - it really depended on whether or not Pluto counted that week). It reminded him of Earth, though it was more reddish in colour than blue.
“What’s it called?” he asked.
“Skaro.” There was a rustle of clothing as Jack leant down next to him, his next words warm in Ianto’s right ear. “It’s the planet that birthed the Dalek race.”
Ianto turned to Jack. “What?”
Jack straightened. “Way back in the day there was a war between two factions; the Kaleds and the Thals. There’s not enough left in the way of records or history to tell us whether they were different species or just different nationalities. Whatever the reason they went for each other like cats and dogs - all their resources were poured into it. By the end they were fighting with spears and wearing animal skins.”
“And the Daleks were developed as some kind of weapon?”
Jack scoffed. “You’d think, wouldn’t you?” he said bitterly. “It was the Kaled scientists. They knew that with all the nuclear weapons they’d been throwing at each other that they were destroying their planet. They’d need to adapt to survive. One particular scientist, Davros, created creatures that he believed would be the final Kaled form, and then designed a travel machine in which to house it. He was obsessed that they should survive and developed them to be “emotionless”.” Jack wagged his fingers in inverted commas. “But they weren’t. They had emotions, just the worst ones.”
“What happened to him?”
“They turned on him - didn’t kill him, unfortunately. He lived long enough to create another race of Daleks, subservient to him.” Jack looked at the sky and smiled. “He dies today.”
“Really?”
Jack sighed and gave Ianto a weak smile. “Here’s hoping.”
While they were waiting - or rather, while Jack was waiting, Ianto was adamant that he wasn’t going to watch - they set about making dinner of bacon rolls.
“I have some wine for later,” Jack said, passing Ianto a canteen of water for the coffee.
“Right,” said Ianto. After we’ve watched the lights and the genocide. How romantic.
They ate in quiet, Ianto only offering one word replies and answers to Jack’s attempts to make conversation. Eventually Jack took the hint and they sat in relatively comfortable silence.
Jack checked his watch and jumped to his feet.
“Time?” asked Ianto.
“Not yet. It’ll take a few seconds - there! You see it?”
It was hard to miss it; the great ball of light shot across the sky at a phenomenal speed.
Ianto stared. “How can it be travelling so fast?” he asked Jack, who had sat back down next to him.
“Time Lord science,” said Jack quietly. He reached out to hold Ianto’s hand, twining their fingers tightly together. “It’s incredible, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Ianto couldn’t think what to say. What to think. It was death, death on a scale beyond anything he was capable of imagining. But something in him, a primal instinct, or perhaps part of him that hadn’t healed over from Canary Wharf wanted to see it burn. Wanted to be close enough to hear the screams.
To say that that disturbed him was something of an understatement. And perhaps it showed; Jack wrapped his arm around Ianto’s middle and hitched him closer.
“It’s called the Hand of Omega,” said Jack. “A weapon the Time Lords left in the Doctor’s possession.”
“He was behind this, was he?” asked Ianto. He was starting to wonder about that man.
“More making sure they all fell on their own stolen sword,” Jack said.
“Is there anything else left on that planet? Any other life forms?”
“Nope. The Daleks either wiped them out or forced them off the planet and then, when they had the technology, gave chase.”
Ianto clenched his hands over Jack’s.
The light punched through the planet’s atmosphere and into the surface, almost cracking the planet in two on impact. The explosion was much too bright; Ianto had to close his eyes. Jack clearly had the same thought, reaching around to cover his eyes. For a good five minutes it was as if the whole sky was on fire.
Eventually the glow died down, the debris from the planet already creating a glimmering dust cloud.
“Well,” said Ianto.
“Yeah,” said Jack. “Wine?”
“Yes,” said Ianto immediately.
Handing Ianto a plastic wine glass, Jack cleared his throat. “I realise that this might not have been the best place to pick -”
“Oh, you’ve worked that out, now, have you?” asked Ianto.
“ - but after what’s happened, I kinda needed it.”
Ianto nodded slowly. “Yes. I understand, I think.”
Jack smiled and squeezed his hand. “You can go down to the Suite tomorrow, pick something more fun out. Until then, I think we should try to enjoy the camping experience while it’s here. How’s that sound?”
“Just so long as we don’t have to play any drinking games,” said Ianto. He really didn’t want to get drunk, or deal with Jack getting hammered just now.
“Oh no, nothing like that at all,” said Jack, in that cheerful voice that made Ianto worry for his sanity. “I say we tell a few stories instead.”
“You’re going first,” Ianto warned him.
“Fair enough.” Jack cracked his knuckles. “You want to hear the one about Cecil Kra’kocabeth?”
Ianto frowned. “Is that the plant thing or the squid?”
“The squid.”
Ianto smiled and nodded. “Let’s hear that one.”
Jack sat up straighter and began, providing the whole cast of voices and various (at times a little too graphic) gestures and mimes. Ianto sat back, laughing and cringing and doing his utmost to keep the stupid grin off his face. It really wouldn’t do for Jack to know how much Ianto liked listening to his stories.
“Ok, c’mon,” said Jack, slapping him on the leg. “I’ve talked myself hoarse - no doubt part of your plan all along -”
“You’re on to me,” said Ianto, holding up his hands.
“- now it’s your turn.”
“I don’t think I could ever top that,” said Ianto, grimacing when he caught the double meaning. “Don’t!” he warned.
“Well, if we're telling tales...” Jack trailed off, looking pointedly at Ianto.
Ianto shifted, his smile not sitting quite right. “Yeah?”
“Why all those years drifting? I mean, I'd like to think that I know you pretty well by now,” Jack paused here for the obligatory dirty grin, which had Ianto rolling his eyes and trying to keep from snickering into his wineglass, “but, the idea of you travelling for all that time, just wandering place to place... I don't know. Doesn't seem you.”
Ianto cleared his throat. “I was a bit different back then,” he said, taking a sip of wine. “You know how it is when you’re young -”
“A dim and distant memory for such a mature thing as you, I’m sure,” said Jack. He laughed when Ianto calmly gave him the finger and started again.
“Anyway. I was younger, and there was a lot of the world I hadn’t seen. Wanted to find myself, I suppose.”
Jack watched him for a moment. “And that was the appeal?”
Ianto shrugged. “I dunno. Just liked travelling. Always did, ever since I was a kid. My dad used to say I was the only kid he knew who you could drive all the way to the seaside and would still be happy if it rained all day and you had to stay in the car,” he said, smiling at the memory. “Just... sometimes actually getting there gets in the way of the journey, y'know? You just don't want it to end.”
The silence stretched as Jack waited for Ianto to continue and Ianto drank his wine. Finally Jack abandoned his own - empty - wineglass and sprawled in Ianto's lap, giving him a poke in the stomach. “You were saying?”
Ianto ducked his head, which didn't quite work now that Jack was where he was, and so looked skywards instead. “When you're going somewhere - it doesn't matter where, you can be flying to America, driving to Cornwall for two weeks, getting on the bus to work, walking to the corner shop for the paper - when you're travelling, nothing else matters but the journey. Just so long as you keep going nothing else matters.” Ianto frowned. “It's almost like you don't exist. In a way.” He coughed, fingering the stem of his glass and went on, “And it's like - it's the closest thing you've got to freedom. Nothing else matters; you have no responsibility, no one's expecting anything of you - you’re free. You free and yet you have some kind of meaning.”
Jack was quiet. Ianto, emboldened by this, continued.
“But then, after a while it - you always miss home, the people you have there. But then, you go on long enough you start missing other places. Other people. And you start thinking to yourself what would it be like if I'd stopped there? Would I have liked it? Made friends... found someone... but you know that if you went back there it wouldn't be the same. You wouldn't be seeing it for the first time, those people might not be there anymore. It wouldn't be as... special, I suppose.” Ianto swallowed and looked down. Jack was staring out into space, that odd sad look in his eyes. Ianto hated that look.
“Sorry, I'm probably not making any sense.”
It seemed to jerk Jack back and he sat up, grinning. “I don't know. I think making a little too much sense given how much this you've had.” He snatched Ianto's wineglass and drained the last of it, kissing Ianto soundly before he could make any protest.
As they sank back onto the ground, Ianto pushed against Jack’s chest, licking his lips as they parted. “You want to take this to the tent?”
Jack tilted his head back. “Not really. Stars are kind of romantic, don’t you think?”
“Stars, yes. Suns going supernova and wiping out entire species not so much.” Ianto turned his head to the side and muttered, “Even if it is the Daleks.”
Jack sat up and ran his fingers through Ianto’s hair. “Fair enough.” He dropped a kiss on Ianto’s cheek and rolled off him, holding the tent flap open. “After you.”
Ianto was starting to drift off in the mess of sleeping bags, extra blankets and pillows when next to him, Jack suddenly asked, “What does it mean?”
Ianto rolled his eyes when Jack didn’t elaborate. “Well, I don’t how it translates wherever you’re from, but down my way when two people do that it tends to mean I really like you.”
“I mean finding yourself.”
Ianto frowned. “I’m fairly sure it means finding yourself, unless you want to have a deep psychological conversation about it?”
“Why would you want to?”
“Find yourself?” Ianto had never been a fan of having conversations in the dark. There was no way of telling where the other person going, what they were really trying to ask or tell. It was even worse with Jack. “So you… know who are, I suppose.”
“Why d’you need to know?”
Ianto sighed. He could himself slipping under. “It’s a wise man who knows himself, right?”
“I think you’re mixing your quotes there.”
“Whatever,” Ianto mumbled. “Why wouldn’t you want to find yourself?”
For a few blissful moments Jack was quiet. Then he said, “What if you’re not a good person to know?”
Ianto rolled his eyes and hugged Jack to him. “I like you well enough. And unless you want to insult my tastes, you might want to think about shutting up and going to sleep.”
Jack smiled. “I love you, too.”
“What do you want to do today?” Ianto asked. “Is this planet any good for climbing?”
Jack stretched. “Nah. Only things it’s good for are the views and swimming, and I’m afraid that’s very much an either/or option.” He slapped Ianto’s leg. “You should nip back down to reception, view the menus. I did only ask for this planet for the night.”
“You’re not coming?” asked Ianto, uncertain.
“Fancy a bit of a lie-in,” said Jack, rolling over and commandeering Ianto’s sleeping bag to add to his nest. “You go on ahead. Pick something fun. I’ll choose tomorrow.”
Ianto couldn’t help the smile. “Lazy git,” he said, nudging Jack with his foot.
“As charged,” said Jack happily. “If you get lost there’ll be little buttons with an “i” for information around. Push one of those and select directions.”
Down at reception Ianto spotted the blue skinned girl from yesterday and hung around pretending to be interested in the ceiling patterns until she was free.
The suite was a bare little room with a high ceiling that put Ianto in mind of an old sci-fi film. There was a small platform in the centre where two or three people could stand and view the blank walls. He hopped up, leaning back to look at the ceiling, and the many mirrors set into… whatever it was the walls were made of.
“They’re very impressive aren’t they?” said the girl, appearing at his elbow. Ianto would have jumped if he weren’t so used to doing it himself. “I’m told it helps with the projections.”
“Projections?”
She cast him a sly smile. “You’ll see in a moment.” She scrawled something on her clipboard and then tapped it with her pen. There was a low hum from the walls and one by one hundreds of symbols and pictures, not dissimilar to the desktop icons on Ianto’s old computer back in the TIC, flickered into the air around them.
“Now, I understand from your details that you’re from the “Milky Way”, so let’s just narrow these down - would you like to view the Andromeda files as well, or shall we just stick to your own galaxy for now?”
“Er...”
“Ah, yes. This is your first time with us, isn’t it?” she said. She scribbled something else down. “Let’s keep it simple for now, stay in your home galaxy. Are you interested in any particular planets or moons?”
Ianto blinked. “I don’t know that many beyond Neptune. Unless Pluto counts as a planet?”
“All depends what time period you pick,” said the girl. “Shall we stick to your home planet, then?”
Ianto bit his lip. Jack had said pick something fun… “Would that narrow down my choices much?”
“It would leave you with fewer programmes to choose from,” the girl said carefully. “Though it would simply be a case of narrowing down a few million to a few tens of thousands. Of course, that’s only counting the historical programmes. We’ve some very popular fictional ones such as Tolkien, Star Trek. We even have one called “Eastenders” if that means anything to you.”
Ianto bit his tongue and looked away, pretending to examine one of the avatars. She was doing such a good job, it would be rude to laugh. “I think I’d like to stick to the historical for now.”
“Very well.” More icons vanished. “We also have a few pseudo-historical programmes,” she pointed to an icon of an Arthurian-looking knight, “which straddle fiction and non-fiction. Customers tend to be dismissive of them, though they’re well worth looking at.”
Ianto shrugged. “Nothing wrong with straddling.” Then he grimaced when he realised what he’d said.
The girl pursed her lips, looking very intently at her clipboard. “Quite. Did you have anything particular in mind?”
Ianto had been unable to make up his mind and in the end the girl had politely suggested that he take cartridges for all the ones he liked the look of and think it over in his unit. He would, she assured him, only be charged for the one that he used, provided that he returned them all intact.
By the time he returned to their unit (having only got lost once) Jack was dressed and had taken the tent down.
“Good morning.”
Ianto smirked and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Just. “I think you mean afternoon.”
“Nope. See?” Jack pointed at the shadow one of the trees was casting. “Technically still morning. Most of this planet’s days are thirty hours long.”
“Most?”
Jack shrugged. “It has a pretty funky orbit. Hey, new cartridges!” he said, taking them from Ianto. “What did you get?”
“I thought Ancient Egypt could be interesting,” said Ianto, seating himself in one of the camping chairs Jack had neglected to pack away.
Jack frowned. “This isn’t the historically accurate one, is it?”
“Not much point in going if it isn’t is there? Unless you wanted to be chased around by a mummy.”
Jack scrunched his nose. “It could have been fun. The ones they do here are usually really easy, though and it costs to adjust the difficulty level.” He put the Egypt cartridge to one side.
“I thought you’d have liked Ancient Egypt,” Ianto remarked. “All those half naked people wandering around, seeing the pyramids going up -”
“It would be fascinating to see, especially with all the kilts, but we’re a bit… how to put it…”
“Greek?” asked Ianto jokingly.
“Well, yeah.” Jack looked at the next one. “Oh, the Blitz.”
“Well, I figured, what with your coat,” Ianto began. Jack didn’t sound too thrilled.
“No, yeah. It’s a good choice. Is it the historically accurate version?”
Ianto pulled a face. “Sorry, no. They’d run out.”
“No, that’s okay. Maybe if we have a look at that a little later,” said Jack carefully, putting it to one side. Seeing the next cartridge he stopped dead. “Oh, you didn’t!”
Ianto pretended to look sheepish. He did a very poor job of it. “It would seem I did.”
Some five minutes later Jack had switched the cartridges and the two of them were stood, dressed as officers of the royal navy (Ianto’s hat was slightly bigger than Jack’s, but Jack didn’t mention this - presumably he was planning on stealing it sometime later), on the deck of a frigate, with some rather impressive rigging.
Jack looked around the ship and grinned. “God, this takes me back!”
“You like it then?” Ianto asked.
“Love it!” cried Jack, throwing his arms wide. “And you, for choosing it,” he added, beaming at Ianto. “Now, if you please, Mr Jones, we’d best be heading off.”
Ianto considered for a moment and nodded. “Very good, Captain. I believe we have an Easterly wind.” He then tucked his hands behind his back expectantly. Jack, prompted by the lack of footsteps, turned about and jerked his head at Ianto. Ianto stared back.
“A pity that this ship has not come with a complete crew to match,” said Jack pointedly, raising his eyebrows.
“It is indeed, Captain,” said Ianto, without moving.
Jack frowned, tipping his head that he might look down his nose at Ianto. “Mr Jones,” he said firmly. “I have spoken.”
“You have indeed, Captain,” Ianto agreed.
“Then why do you not obey?” asked Jack, falling into the appropriate speech patterns. “We agreed, did we not, Mr Jones, that I should be Captain aboard this vessel?”
“We did indeed, Captain. However, I, Commodore Jones, have the command of this vessel.”
“Commodore? That’s cheating!” Jack whined, suddenly sounding rather more like a twenty-first century brat than an eighteenth century sea captain.
“Cheating doesn’t come into it,” said Ianto evenly. “Why do you think I’m wearing this stupid hat?”
Jack shrugged. “Historical accuracy?” The two of them paused a moment then fell around laughing. Eventually Ianto, with the promise of a few favours, managed to have Jack running around and actually doing a half decent job of manning the ship.
“Are we likely to come across anybody?” Ianto asked. “Other “navy” ships, I mean?”
“Other guests?” asked Jack, who had now forgone his hat, along with his jacket and shirt. “Shouldn’t think so.”
Ianto, removing his own hat and running a hand through his hair, frowned. “What about the French? Or the Spanish?”
Jack shook his head. “Shouldn’t do.” He looked good with a ponytail, Ianto thought. The blue ribbon brought out his eyes.
“Pirates?” asked Ianto hopefully.
Jack smirked, swatting him with one of the slimmer lengths of rope that he had been labouring over knotting. “Now you’re just being silly.”
“Pirates, Ianto? Now you’re just being silly -”