FIC: Invitation to the Dance (short version)
This is the short version of " Invitation to the Dance" - the version I posted to lastficstanding. Headers and other info can be found on the full story's post.
They were a week out of the carnage and starting to shake off the immediate shock. Torchwood Two and Three had come to co-ordinate the clean-up. MacAlister from Two deferred to the leader of Torchwood Three from Cardiff. A Captain Harkness who was apparently from America, but a member of the RAF and now stationed in Cardiff. There was a field tent set up near the wreckage. This was, apparently, this Harkness bloke’s office. After being told to stay home for three days, he was now being recalled to the site of the disaster to be interviewed.
Ianto swallowed. He had written a series of notes and put them in his diary, on his computer, on his mirror and even in a breakfast cereal box. Even if they retconned him, he’d find a way to remember Lisa. To remember where she was, what she needed and why he needed to be the one to care for her.
As he approached, he saw large machines pulling away beams and huge chunks of concrete and piling them elsewhere. A small hoard of people then meticulously picked over the debris and the newest exposed layer of the disaster. He stopped and watched, realizing how real this all suddenly was.
“Are you Ianto?”
Ianto started at the unexpected voice. He tugged on the edges of his suit jacket and turned to face a petite Asian woman. “Yes,” he offered his hand. “Ianto Jones, archivist.”
The young woman nodded and shook his hand. “I’m Toshiko Sato from Torchwood Three. Jack - my boss - wants to see you.”
Ianto nodded. That much had been made apparent in the answer-phone message he’d received after checking on Lisa the night before. “Lead the way.”
Toshiko led Ianto into the tent where Jack Harkness was flipping through some files on a laptop. “Jack? This is -“
Jack stood, offering a hand, “Ianto Jones. Nice to meet you. I’m -“
“Jack Harkness,” Ianto said. Two could play at this game. And he wasn’t about to let this guy take him down without a fight. Lisa was worth more than that.
Jack nodded, looking inexplicably impressed. “Word gets around, huh? Thanks for coming out here - I know it can’t be easy.”
Ianto relaxed a little. It was possible he was selling this Harkness fellow short. Perhaps he wasn’t the unfeeling bastard Yvonne had always made him out to be. “It’s…” Ianto took a deep breath. “It’s surreal, to be honest, sir.”
Jack nodded and sat down. “Have a seat. Tosh, do you mind?”
Toshiko nodded and left.
“I hear you’ve got a pretty good memory,” Jack said as he picked up an old-fashioned fountain pen.
“Yes, sir,” Ianto answered. Until you drug me, that is. He winced at the thought. He’d taken all reasonable precautions to be able to defeat the retconn. He just needed to get through this interview.
Jack pushed the pen and a pad across the table to him. “I need you to make a list of every alien artifact that might be buried in that rubble.”
Ianto looked up at him quizzically. “You don’t have a computer inventory?”
Jack shot his laptop an evil look. “Your boss didn’t like to share with anyone. That included me and MacAlister. Your computer system well… ‘crashed’ doesn’t even begin to describe it.”
Ianto glared at him for the callous comment, but when Jack shrugged in apology he let it go and began to write.
Jack went about his business. Poking at the laptop, writing something on what looked like formal Torchwood stationary. Cleaning his gun. Ianto winced and dutifully dropped his eyes to his notepad when he noticed that.
Almost three hours later, Ianto had drained Jack’s fountain pen and switched to his own ballpoint. His hand had a cramp, nevermind how aggravated the blisters were and his back was sore from hunching over the wrong side of the makeshift desk.
When he handed the list back, Jack flipped through it. “That’s a long list.”
“Yes, sir,” Ianto answered neutrally.
Jack came from around his desk. “Yeah. You know it’s half-one. I was going to go get lunch. Interested?”
Ianto wondered how much of a fuss would be made if he declined the invitation, ducking Jack’s chance to spike his tea with retconn. “I was actually hoping to go home. I have some tablets to take for the burns on my hand… they sort of put me to sleep.”
“Ah,” Jack said, reaching one hand into the pocket of his greatcoat. “Then I’ll just give you this.”
Ianto’s heart skipped a beat, fully expecting Jack to simply hand him the little white tablet and watch him swallow obediently.
He wasn’t prepared for Jack to hand him a letter. “Wh-what’s this?” His eyes skipped back and forth between Jack and the paper.
“Come work for me in Cardiff,” Jack said quietly. “We’re a small group. Tosh you’ve met. Suzie’s out there supervising the salvage operations and Owen is our physician - you could see him about that hand. We could use some help. Someone with good organizing skills; a good researcher. And having a Welsh native around certainly couldn’t hurt.”
Ianto finally accepted the letter and unfolded it slowly. Sure enough, it was an offer to transfer to Cardiff. He was speechless.
Jack patted his shoulder. “I know this is sudden. Go home; think about it. I’ll be here for another week; come back and let me know.”
Ianto knew better than to look too eager, even though he already knew how he’d answer. He clutched the letter tightly in his fist. “I’ll let you know by Thursday, sir,” Ianto answered.
“I look forward to hearing from you,” Jack said, shaking his hand, carefully this time.
Ianto hurried back to his car, back to Lisa. Moving her would be difficult. Finding a good place to hide her in Cardiff might be even harder. But he wasn’t being retconned back to nursery-school, and just maybe he could find the answers they needed if he stayed with Torchwood.
They were a week out of the carnage and starting to shake off the immediate shock. Torchwood Two and Three had come to co-ordinate the clean-up. MacAlister from Two deferred to the leader of Torchwood Three from Cardiff. A Captain Harkness who was apparently from America, but a member of the RAF and now stationed in Cardiff. There was a field tent set up near the wreckage. This was, apparently, this Harkness bloke’s office. After being told to stay home for three days, he was now being recalled to the site of the disaster to be interviewed.
Ianto swallowed. He had written a series of notes and put them in his diary, on his computer, on his mirror and even in a breakfast cereal box. Even if they retconned him, he’d find a way to remember Lisa. To remember where she was, what she needed and why he needed to be the one to care for her.
As he approached, he saw large machines pulling away beams and huge chunks of concrete and piling them elsewhere. A small hoard of people then meticulously picked over the debris and the newest exposed layer of the disaster. He stopped and watched, realizing how real this all suddenly was.
“Are you Ianto?”
Ianto started at the unexpected voice. He tugged on the edges of his suit jacket and turned to face a petite Asian woman. “Yes,” he offered his hand. “Ianto Jones, archivist.”
The young woman nodded and shook his hand. “I’m Toshiko Sato from Torchwood Three. Jack - my boss - wants to see you.”
Ianto nodded. That much had been made apparent in the answer-phone message he’d received after checking on Lisa the night before. “Lead the way.”
Toshiko led Ianto into the tent where Jack Harkness was flipping through some files on a laptop. “Jack? This is -“
Jack stood, offering a hand, “Ianto Jones. Nice to meet you. I’m -“
“Jack Harkness,” Ianto said. Two could play at this game. And he wasn’t about to let this guy take him down without a fight. Lisa was worth more than that.
Jack nodded, looking inexplicably impressed. “Word gets around, huh? Thanks for coming out here - I know it can’t be easy.”
Ianto relaxed a little. It was possible he was selling this Harkness fellow short. Perhaps he wasn’t the unfeeling bastard Yvonne had always made him out to be. “It’s…” Ianto took a deep breath. “It’s surreal, to be honest, sir.”
Jack nodded and sat down. “Have a seat. Tosh, do you mind?”
Toshiko nodded and left.
“I hear you’ve got a pretty good memory,” Jack said as he picked up an old-fashioned fountain pen.
“Yes, sir,” Ianto answered. Until you drug me, that is. He winced at the thought. He’d taken all reasonable precautions to be able to defeat the retconn. He just needed to get through this interview.
Jack pushed the pen and a pad across the table to him. “I need you to make a list of every alien artifact that might be buried in that rubble.”
Ianto looked up at him quizzically. “You don’t have a computer inventory?”
Jack shot his laptop an evil look. “Your boss didn’t like to share with anyone. That included me and MacAlister. Your computer system well… ‘crashed’ doesn’t even begin to describe it.”
Ianto glared at him for the callous comment, but when Jack shrugged in apology he let it go and began to write.
Jack went about his business. Poking at the laptop, writing something on what looked like formal Torchwood stationary. Cleaning his gun. Ianto winced and dutifully dropped his eyes to his notepad when he noticed that.
Almost three hours later, Ianto had drained Jack’s fountain pen and switched to his own ballpoint. His hand had a cramp, nevermind how aggravated the blisters were and his back was sore from hunching over the wrong side of the makeshift desk.
When he handed the list back, Jack flipped through it. “That’s a long list.”
“Yes, sir,” Ianto answered neutrally.
Jack came from around his desk. “Yeah. You know it’s half-one. I was going to go get lunch. Interested?”
Ianto wondered how much of a fuss would be made if he declined the invitation, ducking Jack’s chance to spike his tea with retconn. “I was actually hoping to go home. I have some tablets to take for the burns on my hand… they sort of put me to sleep.”
“Ah,” Jack said, reaching one hand into the pocket of his greatcoat. “Then I’ll just give you this.”
Ianto’s heart skipped a beat, fully expecting Jack to simply hand him the little white tablet and watch him swallow obediently.
He wasn’t prepared for Jack to hand him a letter. “Wh-what’s this?” His eyes skipped back and forth between Jack and the paper.
“Come work for me in Cardiff,” Jack said quietly. “We’re a small group. Tosh you’ve met. Suzie’s out there supervising the salvage operations and Owen is our physician - you could see him about that hand. We could use some help. Someone with good organizing skills; a good researcher. And having a Welsh native around certainly couldn’t hurt.”
Ianto finally accepted the letter and unfolded it slowly. Sure enough, it was an offer to transfer to Cardiff. He was speechless.
Jack patted his shoulder. “I know this is sudden. Go home; think about it. I’ll be here for another week; come back and let me know.”
Ianto knew better than to look too eager, even though he already knew how he’d answer. He clutched the letter tightly in his fist. “I’ll let you know by Thursday, sir,” Ianto answered.
“I look forward to hearing from you,” Jack said, shaking his hand, carefully this time.
Ianto hurried back to his car, back to Lisa. Moving her would be difficult. Finding a good place to hide her in Cardiff might be even harder. But he wasn’t being retconned back to nursery-school, and just maybe he could find the answers they needed if he stayed with Torchwood.