fic: time passages 1/2
Title: Time Passages
Author Name: dkwilliams
Original Prompt Number: 67
Pairing(s): Jack/Ianto
Summary: After Ianto loses everything following the Battle of Canary Wharf, can he make a new life for himself at Torchwood Three?
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: The characters are the property of the BBC and others who are definitely not me.
Warnings: AU, totally AU
Word Count: 15048
Author's Notes: For the most part, I used this timeline, but changed the Battle of Canary Wharf to early May instead, to give Ianto time to stalk Torchwood Three.
Retroactive Diary entry: June 5, 2006
Director Linley called me into her office to discuss my future with Torchwood, a discussion that looks to have changed my life forever…
"Mr. Jones, come in."
Ianto Jones entered the office of the Acting Director of Torchwood London, carefully closed the door behind him, and took a seat in the uncomfortable plastic chair set before the desk. He resisted the urge to check his tie (again), settled the sling on his left arm at a better angle, and shifted slightly in an attempt to find a more comfortable position as he waited for the Director to look up from the folder in front of her. As he waited, he couldn't help scanning the office for clues about his new boss, as she'd been outside his normal range of contacts, before Canary Wharf. After - well, that was a different story for all of them.
Louisa Linley (Loo-Linley to the less kindly among Torchwood's remaining staff) had been the Assistant Security Director under the previous management. Her new office was as sparse and bland as all the other temporary offices, with only a single photo display on the shelf beside the desk, next to a nicked up brass placard that read "Stay Vigilant!" in large, strident type. He tried to get a better glimpse of the photo collage, but could only see enough to tell that it contained small, grainy snaps of different men, one who looked vaguely familiar. Her desk was bare of all else, except for a phone and
a stack of file folders held down by a heavy paperweight.
"The initial triage report says that you sustained multiple injuries from being pinned for several hours under a collapsed wall. It's only been three weeks, but your doctor reports that you're ready to return to work," Linley said, looking up at last, and Ianto turned his attention back to her. She folded her hands, resting them on the open folder in front of her, and met his eyes directly. "Are you, Mr. Jones?"
"Yes, ma'am." His voice sounded a little harsh to his own ears and he cleared his throat. "I'd like to be busy, actually. It would help."
Linley's lips tightened slightly and she nodded, her short gray hair bobbing around her face. "I understand." She looked back down at the open folder. "You were with the Archival section as a Junior Researcher, right? Sorry - the personnel files are a bit of a mess, and there's no one in HR…"
Her voice trailed off but Ianto didn't need her to finish that sentence. The entire HR department had been converted, no survivors. Ianto tried not to think about the stories Lisa had told him about her office mates, about Stuart, the Boss from Hell, about Melissa, getting married at Christmas…
Linley cleared her throat, capturing his wandering attention. "Unfortunately, the likelihood of the Archives being reopened here within the next year is unlikely. Most of that section was destroyed, and Torchwoods Cardiff and Glasgow have taken charge of what artefacts remained."
Her lips tightened at that, obviously annoyed. Ianto couldn't blame her; the thought of his meticulously catalogued work being hauled off and stored in God only knew what jumble made his stomach clench, but realistically, he didn't know what else could have been done. The Archives had been torn apart, destroyed in the fighting between the Daleks and the Cybermen, most of the staff exterminated by the Daleks or crushed by falling walls. They were in no shape to safeguard dangerous alien technology.
"As for what to do with you, that's an even bigger problem. We won't have room in our offices here for months. I've placed one of our surviving staff with Glasgow, but Archie won't take any more. Cardiff, well..." She frowned at the papers on her desk and then looked up at him. "Medical says that you refused Retcon and Resettlement?"
Ianto swallowed hard and nodded. "I…. There was a girl, in HR. I don't want to forget her."
"You might be better off, Mr. Jones," Linley said frankly. "And you know the regulations."
Ianto nodded: retconning was standard for any terminated employee. "You mentioned Cardiff?"
"Torchwood Cardiff, under the administration of Captain Jack Harkness." Linley opened another folder and laid it down on the desk in front of him, then sat back in her chair, idly stroking the paperweight as she talked. "They could use an Archivist, haven't had one in years. Unfortunately, Captain Harkness refuses to have anything to do with Torchwood London - except for raiding our archives. I can't get you a transfer there."
Ianto looked at the folder open before him, at the large glossy black and white photo of a handsome man in a rather old-fashioned coat. The man appeared to stare out of the picture at him, an audacious grin on his face, inviting Ianto to laugh with him. And for the first time in a month, he could feel his own mouth twitch in response.
He opened the folder and flipped back the photo to read a summary of data on the man, then raised an eyebrow at what he read. Recruited by Torchwood in 1869 as a freelance agent. Repeatedly refers to 'The Doctor' when inebriated. Extensive testing by Torchwood staff has proved subject is unable to remain dead. Bisexual, attracted to any good-looking man or woman. Suspected past Companion of the Doctor…
A twinge of pain behind his eyes distracted him from his appraisal of the folder and he looked up to see Linley watching him intently. He flushed as he realized that once again he'd been staring at Harkness' picture with vapid absorption, although he couldn't remember flipping the photo back down. He closed the folder and put it back on the desk.
"I could talk to him," he said. "I could go there, talk to him in person. It's harder to turn someone down when they're standing in your office."
"You won't get past the front door," she warned him.
The headache intensified and he hoped he wasn't developing another migraine. "Then I'll talk to him outside the office."
"How will you manage that?"
He smiled wryly. "I'll research him, his movements and habits. That's my specialty, after all."
He rubbed at his temple with his free hand and tried to remember if he had any tablets left from his prescription or if he'd need to stop at the chemist on the way home.
"Are you all right, Mr. Jones?"
The headache receded and he nearly sighed with relief. "I'm fine." He indicated the file folder. "May I have a copy of that?"
Linley closed the folder and handed it to him. "Keep it. You'll need the other information on Harkness as well."
Ianto nodded and, with one last glance at the "Stay Vigilant" sign, he rose and headed for the door. Hearing the Director call his name, he turned back inquiringly.
"You have a month, Mr. Jones. If at the end of a month you've failed to secure employment with Torchwood Cardiff, I'm afraid we'll have to pursue the…alternate option."
Ianto swallowed hard. "I understand. It won't be necessary."
He couldn't lose Lisa again. And he needed to find the Doctor, his mortal enemy.
He'd get that job if it killed him.
***************
Retroactive Diary entry: June 25, 2006
Today I met Captain Jack Harkness in person. I think I intrigued him, but it's hard to say…
And it just might, Ianto thought as the weevil lunged at him, slavering jaws reaching for his throat. Then, just when he thought he was done for, a flying tackle knocked the weevil away from him. He watched, bemused, as Captain Jack Harkness subdued the weevil and hooded it, then realized he was still holding the stick he'd used to attack the creature with and tossed it away.
"Thanks," he said, bracing himself against a tree with one hand as Harkness staggered to his feet. Field work was definitely tougher than he'd thought.
"No, thank you," Captain Harkness purred as his eyes flicked up and down Ianto's body, and belatedly, Ianto realized that he was practically posing for the man.
Bisexual, the file had said, and evidently it was right. He straightened up, trying not to blush, as the Captain said, "And you are?"
"Jones," Ianto said quickly. "Ianto Jones."
"Nice to meet you Jones, Ianto Jones," Harkness said, stepping forward to shake his hand, sex appeal oozing out of every pore. "Captain Jack Harkness."
He's even more mesmerizing in person, Ianto thought, then hastily turned his attention to the subdued creature. "Lucky escape," he said.
"I had it under control," Harkness said, his posture as cocky as his voice.
"Think so? Looked pretty vicious." He remembered seeing blood on Harkness' neck as he got up and stepped forward, reaching out to check the injury. "You're -" He paused, seeing that his neck was clear, unblemished, and Harkness flinched back. "You were bitten."
The Captain gave him his charming smile but it didn't reach his eyes which were suddenly sharp and cold. "I've had worse shaving."
There was something odd there, but he was getting definite back-off vibes from Harkness. Afraid that the plan he'd spent two weeks crafting was going off the rails, he quickly turned his attention back to the creature. Time to inject a little mystery into their encounter, get Harkness to bite at the hook, he thought. "Looked like a weevil to me."
Harkness didn't even blink, but Ianto hadn't expected an overt reaction. "I have no idea what you're talking about." Ianto gave him a "don't give me that" look but the Captain just smiled and said, coolly, "I'll take it from here."
Ianto watched as Harkness lifted the weevil into a fireman's carry, then paused briefly beside him to say, with a fleeting smile, "Thanks for the assistance."
"Any time." Ianto watched as Harkness walked away, then gave into a sudden urge. "By the way," he called. "I love the coat."
If he'd been hoping for a response, he was doomed to disappointment for Harkness kept walking as if he hadn't heard. Ianto didn't know whether to hope that he had or not.
**************
Retroactive Diary entry: June 26, 2006
Intrigued or not, Captain Harkness didn't appear to like me much. Or is it Torchwood One he doesn't like?
Ianto shivered in the cool Monday morning air as he stood waiting, coffee cup in hand, outside the deceptively innocuous tourism office that was, in reality, the entrance to Torchwood Three. Two weeks of surveillance, monitoring Captain Harkness and his team, had told him a lot about the Captain's habits. Enough, he hoped, to finally get an audience with the man this morning. He hoped that last night's adventure with the weevil had stirred the Captain's curiosity; his month of grace was nearly over and he only had a week to land this job.
The door to the office opened and Ianto took a deep breath.
Showtime, he thought, and pasted a smile on his face as Captain Harkness emerged.
"Morning!" he said cheerfully. To his credit, the Captain barely paused even though it was clear that he was surprised. Ianto held out the mug. "Coffee?"
He'd half-expected Harkness to refuse to accept it - after all, he was a stranger and the coffee could be laced with anything. But his observations had once again proven correct; Harkness accepted the dare and the mug, taking a large swallow.
Harkness' eyes widened in appreciation. "Wow," he said, handing the mug back with a smile, his eyes flicking down Ianto's body, assessing and apparently liking what he saw.
He took another deep breath. This was it. "I want to work for you."
The mildly interested look on Harkness' face disappeared, replaced by last night's coolness. "Sorry, no vacancies," he said flatly.
Ianto gritted his teeth and held onto his smile, saying persuasively, "Look, let me tell you about myself."
"Ianto Jones, born August 19, 1983," Harkness interrupted, obviously quoting from a report, and Ianto took heart from the fact that the Captain had been intrigued enough to check him out.
His momentary feeling of victory evaporated when Harkness began walking away, although he was still quoting from Ianto's file. "Able student but not exceptional. One minor conviction for shoplifting in your teens. A number of temporary jobs, mainly a drifter, until two years ago when you joined the Torchwood Institute in London. Junior researcher, girlfriend Lisa Hallet..."
Ianto hurried after him. "Deceased," he added, but Harkness didn't even pause as he said a polite "sorry".
This was impossible, trying to have a conversation with the man's back. "Look," Ianto said, grasping Harkness' sleeve and hurrying a bit to step in front of him. "You checked me out."
Harkness halted and looked at him squarely. "You knew what a weevil was. I thought I was going to have to come…deal with you."
"But instead you can see that I have the right qualifications for the job."
"There is no job," he said harshly. "We've nothing to do with Torchwood London. I severed all links." He started walking again: conversation over, decision made.
"But when it burned," Ianto persisted, once more grabbing his arm and forcing him to stop, to face him. "Two of your people scavenged the ruins."
"We don't want the equipment getting into the wrong hands."
Ianto tried not to take offense from the patronizing tone in the Captain's voice. "And you're the right hands, are you?" After all, it was he who had catalogued that equipment; surely Harkness' research would have shown him that. Who else had a right to the guardianship of it now?
Harkness stared at him impassively, clearly not in the least bit shamed by his lots' pillaging, and Ianto sighed. "Trial period," he offered. "Three months."
"No."
"Three weeks. Three days," he said. "Let me prove myself to you. I'll work for nothing."
"No," Harkness said flatly and once more started walking away.
Ianto could feel the headache he'd woken up with trying to make another appearance, could feel cold desperation gripping his stomach. He wouldn't, couldn't forget Lisa, and he had to find the Doctor. Desperately, he reached out and grabbed the Captain's shoulder, stopping him, moving to confront him again. "I saw what they did at Canary Wharf. What am I supposed to do with those memories?"
"You are not my responsibility!" Harkness snapped. "And we're not hiring."
Again, he moved past Ianto, walking down the quay, and Ianto knew better than to try to stop him a fourth time. Instead he called out, "Same time tomorrow, then?" Maybe if he aggravated the man enough, he'd give up.
Harkness wasn't showing any signs of surrender as he kept walking, yelling back without turning around, "There is no job for you here, and there never will be!"
Said firmly enough, and yet…if he was so set against idea, surely he would have just ignored Ianto - and hadn't there been a flicker of something like pain in his eyes at the mention of Canary Wharf? Just a little hint of a crack in the wall? He watched Harkness walk away and, unable to resist a chance to have the last word (again), he called out, "I really like that coat."
He would have bet anything that Harkness had smiled at that, just a little.
******************
Ianto lay on the bed in his darkened flat, a cold compress across his eyes as he tried to relax enough to let the migraine tabs do their work. The past two days had been frustrating. Despite lying in wait outside the tourism office for hours on end, he'd been unable to catch Captain Harkness coming or going although he'd seen the other members of his team. So either Harkness had another way into the place, or he'd gone to ground inside. Monitoring their radios with the headset he'd borrowed from Torchwood London had been less than effective as he got more static than talk - no doubt their computer expert, Dr Sato, had set up sophisticated jamming equipment to prevent just such monitoring. So all he could do was wait, but Ianto didn't have time to play that game. His month was nearly up. It was Thursday and if he wasn't on Torchwood Three's payroll by Monday morning, he had no doubt he'd be waking up in hospital Monday afternoon, victim of a coma with the last two years wiped out.
The thought made his headache spike again, and he forced himself to relax, to forget the consequences of failure and concentrate on success. There had to be something else he could do, some other hand to play. If necessary, he'd follow the Captain the next time he went on the pull and proposition him. The file said that Harkness liked young and attractive, no matter what gender, and the once-over he'd given Ianto had certainly been appreciative. Little as he liked the idea of getting a job because of his cock-sucking skills, Ianto was nearly desperate enough to try that.
A noise from the night table caught his attention and he lifted a corner of the cold compress to glance at the rift detector lying there. Something was coming through the rift - a number of somethings, actually, and he quickly made note of their locations. The majority of them seemed to be located near Cardiff Castle, but a smallish blip was heading in another direction, and it was moving quickly. Locking in on it, he grabbed his coat and car keys and raced out of his flat, headache forgotten.
*******
The blip turned out to be a pteranodon, and the first sight of it flying about the warehouse it had taken refuge in had filled him with awe - for about a minute before he had to sit down and try not to hyperventilate. He'd expected Captain Jack and his team to arrive to investigate, and had monitored the warehouse all night and most of the morning, waiting for them, but there hadn't been any sign of them when he left for a shower and a change of clothing. From their radio conversations, he'd gleamed that yesterday's activity had kept them occupied near the reservoir instead. It appeared that the pterodactyl had flown in - literally - under their radar. Which meant that he'd have to come up with some other way of getting Captain Harkness' attention.
On reflection, stepping out in front of a moving car was probably not the best way to do that.
Harkness stepped out the SUV and stormed towards him, clearly annoyed. "Okay, this has to stop."
"No, listen to me," Ianto began, but Harkness just bulldozed over him.
"I don't have time for this," he snapped. "Look, I don't care what your problem is; I want you out of this city by sunrise. There is no place for you here. Go back to London and find yourself another life. Keep stalking me and I'll wipe your memory."
"No, but the thing is - "
"Look, any conversation between us, no matter what the subject is over. Finished. Done! Forever!" Harkness pointed back at the SUV. "I'm getting back behind the wheel of that car. You're still standing in the road, I'm gonna drive through you."
He's like a force of nature, primal and magnificent and unpredictable, Ianto thought, taking a moment to watch admiringly as Harkness stalked back to his vehicle. Then, with deliberation and in as nonchalant a tone as he could manage, he said, "So you're not going to help me catch this pterodactyl, then?"
The look on Harkness' face was priceless.
*************
Outside the warehouse, Ianto watched as Harkness put together a large syringe of some kind of knock-out drug. "That is the only special equipment you've got?" he asked in disbelief.
Harkness gave him a pointed look. "Yeah, 'cause I keep dinosaur nets in the back of the SUV."
Ianto said, blandly and with deliberately provocation, "Torchwood London would have."
Harkness gave him another annoyed look, then led the way into the warehouse. The pterodactyl - Myfanwy, he'd privately been calling her for the past twenty-four hours - took immediate exception to the newcomer's presence and dive-bombed the doorway. Harkness made a strategic retreat with Ianto on his heels and, leaning against the outside of the door, asked, "How did you find it?"
Ianto shrugged. "Rift activity locator," he said, as if that was a given.
Harkness gave Ianto his first seriously appraising look - well, the first that hadn't been flirting - and said, as if adding things up, "Torchwood London." Then he turned his attention back to the pterodactyl. "Well, it's quite excitable."
Ianto shrugged, looked back at the Captain. Myfanwy hadn't taken much interest in him, other than investigating the tidbits of food he'd tried to tempt her with. She certainly hadn't tried to attack him. "Must be your aftershave."
Harkness met his eyes, smiling smugly. "Never wear any."
Ianto blinked. "You smell like that naturally?" he asked, then flushed slightly as he realized how that sounded.
Harkness grinned as if used to that reaction. "Fifty-first century pheromones. You people have no idea." Ianto turned his head away, not sure what to make of that comment, and Harkness said, "Ready for another go?"
Ianto shrugged. "I'm game if you are."
Harkness did a countdown and they burst back into the warehouse, splitting up to run down opposite sides of the interior, hoping to confuse the creature with multiple targets. It appeared to work; Myfanwy landed in the middle of the floor and turned her head one way and then the other, taking an uncertain step in their direction.
Harkness' face lit up in a way that did something funny to Ianto's stomach as he began coaxing the creature into coming back with him. "I've got somewhere nice and big where you can fly around," Harkness offered persuasively.
Ianto frowned. "So you can take in the pterodactyl but not me?"
Harkness didn't take his eyes off the pterodactyl. "I need a guard dog."
"I can be that," Ianto said immediately. "Receptionist. Building maintenance. Food and drink. Dry cleaning, even - that coat of yours must take a battering. Like a butler," he added. "I could be a butler."
"I don't need a butler."
"Excuse me!" Ianto said, grabbing his arm and pointing at his shirt. "Look at your collar!"
"It was a busy week," Harkness said, sounding like he was gritting his teeth. He probably was; Ianto knew he was being rude and pushy, and his mam would have been horrified by his behaviour, but frankly, he didn't have time to waste.
Harkness tried to pull his arm away but Ianto wasn't having any of it. "What exactly is your plan?" he demanded.
Harkness jerked free and watched Myfanwy for a moment, then said, "I'm going to be the decoy…"
"And it will rip you to shreds."
"Dinosaurs," Harkness said with a shrug and a smirk. "I've had them for breakfast. Only source of pre-cooked food protein after the asteroid crashed." He looked at Ianto and added, "Long story. Here you go!" He handed Ianto the sedative. "One injection to the central nervous cortex - I'll keep it occupied."
He gave Ianto a soldierly punch to the shoulder and Ianto gave him a disbelieving look in return. "No," he said.
"What?" Harkness stared at him in disbelief; clearly he wasn't used to having anyone say that to him.
"It knows me," Ianto said firmly. "I'll make a better decoy."
"It's way too dangerous," Harkness replied but Ianto shook his head.
"I've got a secret weapon." Ianto pulled a large chocolate bar from his inside jacket pocket and held it up. "Chocolate. Preferably dark."
Without waiting for a reply from Harkness, he moved around the side of the warehouse floor, warily eying the pterodactyl as he did so. While it was true that she was slightly more familiar with him, it was highly unlikely that twenty-four hours was enough to make them bosom buddies. At most, it might get him a half-second grace before getting ripped apart. But he was highly aware that Harkness' eyes were on him, that this would be his only chance to prove himself.
He whistled lowly, attracting Myfanwy's attention as he slowly approached it. "Your favourite, yeah," he promised, holding out the candy bar to catch her attention. When she appeared focused on him and not the other man, he gently tossed the chocolate bar in front of her. She was quick to snap up some of the bar although she kept watching him warily. "It's good for your serotonin levels," he added, then said, dubiously, "If you've got serotonin levels."
The pterodactyl looked at him and he suddenly felt quite daft talking to her, even if she appeared to be listening. She looked back down at the chocolate, then suddenly seemed aware of Harkness hovering behind her. As if sensing this might be his only chance, the Captain leaped for her just as she took off into the air again, clinging to her leg by one hand. Ianto watched, heart in his throat, as the man dangled precariously while Myfanwy flew from one end of the warehouse to the other. Somehow, the man managed to pull himself up enough to inject her with the sedative, and then he was plummeting towards the floor.
Instinctively, Ianto moved forward to catch him, although he did little more than cushion Harkness' fall as his momentum knocked them both to the floor. The wind knocked from him, he was barely aware of Harkness' gasped, "Sorry!", more concerned by the sight of the sedated pterodactyl plummeting towards them. He pushed up, rolling them over and away, Harkness moving with him as they rolled again, till Ianto somehow ended up on top, both of them laughing like idiots.
God, he's even more gorgeous when he laughs, Ianto thought, his laugh dying away as he stared down at Jack, mesmerized. As if sensing his change of mood, Jack stopped laughing as well, staring up at him with that compelling intensity, their faces a hair's breadth apart. Like a moth drawn to a flame, Ianto leaned forward that last little bit until their lips met.
Jack's lips were warm and welcoming, moving against his with a dexterity that spoke of extensive experience. It made his breath catch and sent a tingle through his body, from his head to his toes, and made him press closer, eager for more. Jack seemed just as eager, his arms circling Ianto's shoulders and pressing them closer together.
Ianto broke the kiss, suddenly aware that he was hard, harder than he'd ever been in his life, and that the man under him was just as aroused. He felt his face heat with embarrassment as he broke away from Jack's embrace and got to his feet. How could he have forgotten himself so badly? He'd just snogged the man he'd hoped to make his boss, utterly ruining his chances, and this less than two months after the death of his girlfriend. Just what kind of bastard was he? Mortified, he muttered heaven-knew-what and headed towards the door.
"Ianto Jones."
Harkness' voice was commanding, mesmerizing, and it halted him in place even though he longed to flee. "Give me a hand getting her back to the Hub. You can fill out the transfer paperwork while you're there."
Ianto swung around, his mouth dropping open in stunned disbelief. "You mean…"
"You start Monday. General support, which means you do all the shit work no one else
wants to do. Still interested?"
"Yes!" Ianto blurted out, relieved. He'd have a chance to find out more about the Doctor and his Companions. He'd keep his memories, of Torchwood London, of Lisa. Even of these last few embarrassing minutes.
He refused to let himself think which he was more eager to keep.
********************
The Hub was nothing like what he'd expected, Ianto thought as he looked around. After helping drag the pterodactyl into the underground complex, Harkness had blithely instructed him to "have a look around" while he hunted down the appropriate transfer paperwork. Ianto had taken him at his word. In a small kitchen area, Ianto hit the jackpot: a lovely coffee machine that had to be part alien tech. Further digging unearthed coffee: grounds, not beans, but at least they were fresh and a decent brand.
By the time he heard Jack returning, he was pouring two cups of fresh, hot coffee.
"Right then, here we go. Just sign your name and as of Monday, you'll be on Torchwood Three's books," Jack said, entering the kitchen area. "Oh - sorry, that machine's been broken for years…"
Jack's voice trailed off as Ianto turned with two cups of coffee in hand. "Incredible," he said, reverence in his voice as he accepted a cup and breathed in the aroma of a perfect cup of coffee. "And that would be the third reason why I'm hiring you, Ianto Jones."
"The first two would be my persistence and pterodactyl-hunting skills?"
Jack grinned. "That, and you kiss like an angel." He reached out to take Ianto's cup, setting both down on the counter, and said, "Speaking of which, I think we have some unfinished business."
Before Ianto could do more than blink, he found himself pressed back against the counter, Jack's hands on his hips and their faces close together. Jack's body was pressed along his, making Ianto acutely aware of his warmth and strength. "Careful, sir," Ianto murmured. "That's harassment."
"Oh, I don't think so," Jack said, a predatory smile on his face. "For two reasons. One: you don't work for me until Monday morning. And two: you kissed me first."
Ianto considered this for a moment, then nodded. "In that case, sir, there is only one thing to say. Yours or mine?"
Jack's smile widened and he pressed closer. "Mine," he purred. "It's closer."
He released Ianto and grabbed his hand, dragging him out of the kitchen. To Ianto's surprise, he didn't head for the Hub door but instead pulled him into his office and opened a hatch in the floor.
"You live here?" he asked in disbelief. At least that explained why he hadn't seen the man leave the Hub for days.
Jack looked up with a grin. "Yeah. What it lacks in ambiance, it makes up for in convenience." He held his hand out. "Walk into my parlour, Mr. Jones."
"Said the spider to the fly," Ianto murmured even as he took Jack's hand. "That's not putting me at ease, sir."
Jack had started down the ladder and he paused, grinning up at Ianto. "Sir? I think I like you calling me that."
He disappeared from view and Ianto took a deep breath. What in hell was he doing? he wondered. It had only been two months since Lisa had died, and yet here he was, getting ready to crawl into another lover's bed. And a man, at that, something he hadn't done since he'd left school.
"Ianto!" Jack called out, and Ianto found himself climbing down the ladder, as if mesmerized. He found himself standing in a small room and had barely enough time to take in the camp bed and the few other furnishings before Jack's hands were framing his face, Jack's eyes boring into his.
"Ianto, you don't have to do this if you don't want to," he said. "It's not a requirement for being hired, and it's not something I expect as part of your job. Just a pleasant diversion for the night, a little comfort between two lonely souls."
"I want to do this," Ianto said, and was surprised to realize that it was true. He leaned forward, pressing his lips against Jack's again. It was just as heady as it had been the first time and he moaned as he wrapped his arms around Jack's waist, pressing closer for more.
The Captain drew back and beamed at him. "Ianto Jones, I am going to show you such a good time," he purred.
Ianto laughed. "I hope so, sir, but will you respect me in the morning?"
He was again surprised when Jack turned serious for a moment, took his face in his hands and said, "Yes."
And oddly enough, Ianto believed him.
****************
Diary entry: July 1, 2006
The rumours are confirmed. All of them. Well, all but one, as I did not have my measuring tape with me at the time…
Ianto woke to the realization that someone quite near by was watching him sleep. He blinked his eyes open; it was Jack, propped up on one elbow, an enigmatic look on his face. Once he realized that Ianto was awake, the look changed to his usual flirtatious one, and Ianto felt a twinge of loss.
"Morning, beautiful," Jack said, leaning down to brush a kiss over his lips.
"Morning," Ianto returned, then yawned. "What time is it?"
"Early," Jack said. "Thought you might want to get on your way before the team turns up."
"Right," Ianto said, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. "Don't want them thinking that I'm shagging the boss."
Jack leered at him. "Not that the boss minds."
Ianto laughed and leaned forward to kiss him briefly. "Shower?"
"Through there." Jack gestured at a doorway. "It's functional but small - otherwise, I'd offer to wash your back," he added lecherously.
Jack had been right - the shower was barely big enough for a grown man, but the water was hot and the pressure was heavenly. When he got out, he found that his host had set a new razor and toothbrush on the sink, beside fresh towels.
He grinned at his reflection in the mirror as he brushed and shaved. Last night had been just what he'd needed. His body ached in new and delicious ways, and he fingered a love-bite on his shoulder dreamily. His heart still ached for Lisa and he thought it always would, that he would love her forever, but for the first time in months, he thought he might be able to get past her death.
He thought about the boxes he'd brought from London, still unpacked. Somewhere in one of them was a leather diary Lisa had given him for Christmas. It was blank except for her inscription and he hadn't even looked at it since then, but suddenly he decided that he'd find it and start writing in it as soon as he got back to his flat. A new start needed to be documented, and the past deserved to be remembered.
*************
Diary entry: September 13, 2006
Following up on the disappearance of several persons over the past year, Captain Harkness decided to take the entire team to the Brecon Beacons to investigate. One can only surmise that he intended it as a team-building exercise. Oddly enough, it worked, but not as I image the Captain planned it…
Ianto stared out the window of the SUV, eyes on the countryside as Owen ranted on and on about something while the rest of the team did their best to ignore him. He had the feeling that Jack's "team-building trip to the countryside" was about to go pear-shaped.
Things had been…complicated since Suzie's death and the subsequent hiring of Gwen Cooper. The team had been unsettled, with odd eddies of anger and attraction pulling at all of them. Today, Owen was clearly annoyed, and Ianto knew full well who he was going to take it out on. Gwen was distracted, staring at first Owen and then Jack and then out the window before starting the whole thing over again. Toshiko was unhappy at being pulled away from the Hub and a program she'd been nursing, and she'd been hunched over her laptop since they'd left Cardiff. They were all doing their best to ignore Jack, still punishing him for letting Jasmine go with the fairies. And Jack - well, Jack had been his usual enigmatic and calculatingly charming self the whole trip, obviously blind to the fact that he was driving a powder-keg ready to explode at any moment.
It was enough to make Ianto long for his quiet little cubby-hole at the Tourist Information office.
If he'd known what he was getting into months ago, maybe he would have taken Jack's advice and left town. Torchwood Three was a disorganized, not to say chaotic mess, and since Suzie's death, the team had been unravelling faster than Jack could knit them back together. Ianto thought that this trip would be just as ill-fated as last week's karaoke night, although probably not as painful.
Watching Gwen watch Owen again, he felt an odd vibe between them, something he'd noticed since they'd been accidentally locked together in one of the cold storage lockers when a weevil had escaped in the hub the previous week earlier. Maybe they'd go off for a snog in the bushes and get it out of their systems, he hoped. At least it would give Owen something to do other than picking on Tosh or him.
Later, when Gwen started the silly kissing game, Ianto's belief that he'd been consigned to one of the levels of hell was confirmed. Gwen was smug, claiming her boyfriend as her last - as if anyone had been surprised, although the looks she'd given both Owen and Jack had indicated that she'd expected at least one of them to be jealous. (Which was probably why she'd started the damn game in the first place.) Tosh blushed painfully as she'd admitted that it had been last Christmas with Owen, and he'd been as unpleasant as usual in the face of her (in Ianto's opinion, unfathomable) crush on him. Owen, as usual, set the cat among the pigeons, claiming Gwen as his last. Toshiko looked miserable at that and muttered something under her breath that set up Gwen's back, and Ianto was ready to jump in with a diversion when, to his surprise, Jack got there first, contributing his own "last kiss" story. Of course, Jack wiggled out of it with one of his usual outrageous lies, but Ianto had been caught by surprise and didn't realize the others were staring at him expectantly for a long moment.
"My turn, is it?" he asked, looking around, surprised at being the momentary focus of their attention. Most of the time, the team acted like he was invisible, and he really hadn't expected to be included in the game. Owen clearly thought he was going to pass - probably thought he was still a virgin - but Gwen gave him an encouraging (and kindly condescending) nod. Tosh was staring at the ground, ignoring them all, and Jack… He briefly met Jack's eyes before looking back down, at the fire.
"The last girl I kissed was Lisa - my girlfriend, when I lived in London," he said quietly, opting for discretion.
Gwen arched an eyebrow at him. "The quiet Mr. Jones has a girl, has he? Did you leave her behind with a broken heart, or is she joining you here?"
He heard Jack's breath catch, and then the Captain said, warningly, "Gwen, leave it alone."
"Oi! Don't butt in, Jack," Owen said, leaning back with a cynical smile on his face. "Let the tea-boy tell us more about this girl of his. Shop-girl, was she, or a coffee barista? Did you get as far as holding her hand, or is that why you came to Cardiff, fleeing from rejection?"
Something inside Ianto flared to life, the pain of loss he thought he'd pushed down fanning his anger to a sudden white-hot flame. "She was Torchwood. We shared a flat and a bed, and she was killed at Canary Wharf," he said coolly. There was a sudden stunned silence. "You want to know more? Lisa worked in the HR department and snuck down to the Archives that last day for a snog. It was a bit of a game among the staff on the upper floors, to see what they could slip past Hartman during their breaks.
"Next time I saw her, she was strapped to a metal frame, stuck in the middle of the conversion process, half-human and half-metal. She - she looked like she was asleep, lying there, if you didn't pay too much attention to the bullet UNIT had put between her eyes."
He noticed the utter stillness of the others and glanced up. Gwen looked horrified, Toshiko had tears in her eyes, and Owen was studiously staring at the fire, his lips twisted in a grimace. Jack was utterly still, as if carved out of stone.
"Ianto, I'm sorry," Gwen managed to say, finally.
Ianto's lip twisted. "Sorry she's dead, or sorry you asked?"
Gwen drew in a sharp breath, as if he'd slapped her. Owen muttered something about firewood before taking off towards the woods with Gwen behind him.
Ianto suddenly realized that he was clenching his fist so tight that it hurt, that his stomach was roiling and another migraine was building. He didn't want to be sick in front of the others so he stood up. "Right. Best get started on the dinner preparations if we want to eat before dark."
Blindly, he staggered off in the direction of the storage tent. He tripped over one of the stakes and would have fallen if not for the firm hand that grasped his arm.
"Are you all right?" Jack asked softly, his voice pitched for his ears alone. Ianto should have been grateful, but once again, his anger flared up and he wanted to strike out, to punch Jack for being alive while so many had died.
What do you care? Ianto wanted to shout. You haven't noticed me for months, except to leer at my arse in those suits you like. I clean up your shit, no questions asked, and that's the way you like it. When did you last ask me anything about my life? When did you last notice me as a person? What he managed to say out loud was "Fine, sir."
"No, you're not. Sit - and that's an order."
Ianto found himself shoved down onto a crate and then Jack was crouched in front of him, a hand on his knee. "I'm sorry about your girl," Jack said gently. "I lost someone I cared about at Canary Wharf; I know how much it hurts."
Ianto's head jerked up and he met Jack's eyes. His anger drained away, leaving him tired and empty. "Sir, it wasn't your fault. It was the Doctor."
Jack frowned. "The Doctor was just trying to help."
"And yet it's odd how the Doctor's help always seems to get people killed," Ianto said flatly. "I worked in the archives; I've read his history."
Jack sighed. "Look, I know that Torchwood London has a bad opinion of the Doctor, but I know him personally and he really tries to help." Ianto gave him a doubtful look and Jack reached out to lay his hand along his cheek. "Trust me. The Doctor is a good guy."
Ianto's migraine flared and he itched to have his diary in his hands, to write down all his jumbled thoughts and feelings. "If you say so, sir."
"I do." Jack smiled. "Maybe one day I can introduce you to the Doctor and you'll see for yourself."
"I'd like that." Ianto met Jack's eyes squarely. "And I do trust you, sir."
Something flared deep in Jack's eyes, something that made heat pool low in Ianto's belly, making the incipient migraine flee. Jack leaned closer, murmuring, "About that 'most recent kiss' - you were very discreet, Ianto."
"I did say that she was the most recent girl I kissed," Ianto pointed out with a half-smile. "Not the most recent person."
"So you did."
"Whereas you claimed yours was an alien."
"She was. Well, technically she was a girl inhabited by an alien." Jack's lips brushed his. "Maybe you could help me change my answer."
Before Ianto could reply, they heard Gwen yell for help.
******************
Time Passages - part two
Author Name: dkwilliams
Original Prompt Number: 67
Pairing(s): Jack/Ianto
Summary: After Ianto loses everything following the Battle of Canary Wharf, can he make a new life for himself at Torchwood Three?
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: The characters are the property of the BBC and others who are definitely not me.
Warnings: AU, totally AU
Word Count: 15048
Author's Notes: For the most part, I used this timeline, but changed the Battle of Canary Wharf to early May instead, to give Ianto time to stalk Torchwood Three.
Retroactive Diary entry: June 5, 2006
Director Linley called me into her office to discuss my future with Torchwood, a discussion that looks to have changed my life forever…
"Mr. Jones, come in."
Ianto Jones entered the office of the Acting Director of Torchwood London, carefully closed the door behind him, and took a seat in the uncomfortable plastic chair set before the desk. He resisted the urge to check his tie (again), settled the sling on his left arm at a better angle, and shifted slightly in an attempt to find a more comfortable position as he waited for the Director to look up from the folder in front of her. As he waited, he couldn't help scanning the office for clues about his new boss, as she'd been outside his normal range of contacts, before Canary Wharf. After - well, that was a different story for all of them.
Louisa Linley (Loo-Linley to the less kindly among Torchwood's remaining staff) had been the Assistant Security Director under the previous management. Her new office was as sparse and bland as all the other temporary offices, with only a single photo display on the shelf beside the desk, next to a nicked up brass placard that read "Stay Vigilant!" in large, strident type. He tried to get a better glimpse of the photo collage, but could only see enough to tell that it contained small, grainy snaps of different men, one who looked vaguely familiar. Her desk was bare of all else, except for a phone and
a stack of file folders held down by a heavy paperweight.
"The initial triage report says that you sustained multiple injuries from being pinned for several hours under a collapsed wall. It's only been three weeks, but your doctor reports that you're ready to return to work," Linley said, looking up at last, and Ianto turned his attention back to her. She folded her hands, resting them on the open folder in front of her, and met his eyes directly. "Are you, Mr. Jones?"
"Yes, ma'am." His voice sounded a little harsh to his own ears and he cleared his throat. "I'd like to be busy, actually. It would help."
Linley's lips tightened slightly and she nodded, her short gray hair bobbing around her face. "I understand." She looked back down at the open folder. "You were with the Archival section as a Junior Researcher, right? Sorry - the personnel files are a bit of a mess, and there's no one in HR…"
Her voice trailed off but Ianto didn't need her to finish that sentence. The entire HR department had been converted, no survivors. Ianto tried not to think about the stories Lisa had told him about her office mates, about Stuart, the Boss from Hell, about Melissa, getting married at Christmas…
Linley cleared her throat, capturing his wandering attention. "Unfortunately, the likelihood of the Archives being reopened here within the next year is unlikely. Most of that section was destroyed, and Torchwoods Cardiff and Glasgow have taken charge of what artefacts remained."
Her lips tightened at that, obviously annoyed. Ianto couldn't blame her; the thought of his meticulously catalogued work being hauled off and stored in God only knew what jumble made his stomach clench, but realistically, he didn't know what else could have been done. The Archives had been torn apart, destroyed in the fighting between the Daleks and the Cybermen, most of the staff exterminated by the Daleks or crushed by falling walls. They were in no shape to safeguard dangerous alien technology.
"As for what to do with you, that's an even bigger problem. We won't have room in our offices here for months. I've placed one of our surviving staff with Glasgow, but Archie won't take any more. Cardiff, well..." She frowned at the papers on her desk and then looked up at him. "Medical says that you refused Retcon and Resettlement?"
Ianto swallowed hard and nodded. "I…. There was a girl, in HR. I don't want to forget her."
"You might be better off, Mr. Jones," Linley said frankly. "And you know the regulations."
Ianto nodded: retconning was standard for any terminated employee. "You mentioned Cardiff?"
"Torchwood Cardiff, under the administration of Captain Jack Harkness." Linley opened another folder and laid it down on the desk in front of him, then sat back in her chair, idly stroking the paperweight as she talked. "They could use an Archivist, haven't had one in years. Unfortunately, Captain Harkness refuses to have anything to do with Torchwood London - except for raiding our archives. I can't get you a transfer there."
Ianto looked at the folder open before him, at the large glossy black and white photo of a handsome man in a rather old-fashioned coat. The man appeared to stare out of the picture at him, an audacious grin on his face, inviting Ianto to laugh with him. And for the first time in a month, he could feel his own mouth twitch in response.
He opened the folder and flipped back the photo to read a summary of data on the man, then raised an eyebrow at what he read. Recruited by Torchwood in 1869 as a freelance agent. Repeatedly refers to 'The Doctor' when inebriated. Extensive testing by Torchwood staff has proved subject is unable to remain dead. Bisexual, attracted to any good-looking man or woman. Suspected past Companion of the Doctor…
A twinge of pain behind his eyes distracted him from his appraisal of the folder and he looked up to see Linley watching him intently. He flushed as he realized that once again he'd been staring at Harkness' picture with vapid absorption, although he couldn't remember flipping the photo back down. He closed the folder and put it back on the desk.
"I could talk to him," he said. "I could go there, talk to him in person. It's harder to turn someone down when they're standing in your office."
"You won't get past the front door," she warned him.
The headache intensified and he hoped he wasn't developing another migraine. "Then I'll talk to him outside the office."
"How will you manage that?"
He smiled wryly. "I'll research him, his movements and habits. That's my specialty, after all."
He rubbed at his temple with his free hand and tried to remember if he had any tablets left from his prescription or if he'd need to stop at the chemist on the way home.
"Are you all right, Mr. Jones?"
The headache receded and he nearly sighed with relief. "I'm fine." He indicated the file folder. "May I have a copy of that?"
Linley closed the folder and handed it to him. "Keep it. You'll need the other information on Harkness as well."
Ianto nodded and, with one last glance at the "Stay Vigilant" sign, he rose and headed for the door. Hearing the Director call his name, he turned back inquiringly.
"You have a month, Mr. Jones. If at the end of a month you've failed to secure employment with Torchwood Cardiff, I'm afraid we'll have to pursue the…alternate option."
Ianto swallowed hard. "I understand. It won't be necessary."
He couldn't lose Lisa again. And he needed to find the Doctor, his mortal enemy.
He'd get that job if it killed him.
***************
Retroactive Diary entry: June 25, 2006
Today I met Captain Jack Harkness in person. I think I intrigued him, but it's hard to say…
And it just might, Ianto thought as the weevil lunged at him, slavering jaws reaching for his throat. Then, just when he thought he was done for, a flying tackle knocked the weevil away from him. He watched, bemused, as Captain Jack Harkness subdued the weevil and hooded it, then realized he was still holding the stick he'd used to attack the creature with and tossed it away.
"Thanks," he said, bracing himself against a tree with one hand as Harkness staggered to his feet. Field work was definitely tougher than he'd thought.
"No, thank you," Captain Harkness purred as his eyes flicked up and down Ianto's body, and belatedly, Ianto realized that he was practically posing for the man.
Bisexual, the file had said, and evidently it was right. He straightened up, trying not to blush, as the Captain said, "And you are?"
"Jones," Ianto said quickly. "Ianto Jones."
"Nice to meet you Jones, Ianto Jones," Harkness said, stepping forward to shake his hand, sex appeal oozing out of every pore. "Captain Jack Harkness."
He's even more mesmerizing in person, Ianto thought, then hastily turned his attention to the subdued creature. "Lucky escape," he said.
"I had it under control," Harkness said, his posture as cocky as his voice.
"Think so? Looked pretty vicious." He remembered seeing blood on Harkness' neck as he got up and stepped forward, reaching out to check the injury. "You're -" He paused, seeing that his neck was clear, unblemished, and Harkness flinched back. "You were bitten."
The Captain gave him his charming smile but it didn't reach his eyes which were suddenly sharp and cold. "I've had worse shaving."
There was something odd there, but he was getting definite back-off vibes from Harkness. Afraid that the plan he'd spent two weeks crafting was going off the rails, he quickly turned his attention back to the creature. Time to inject a little mystery into their encounter, get Harkness to bite at the hook, he thought. "Looked like a weevil to me."
Harkness didn't even blink, but Ianto hadn't expected an overt reaction. "I have no idea what you're talking about." Ianto gave him a "don't give me that" look but the Captain just smiled and said, coolly, "I'll take it from here."
Ianto watched as Harkness lifted the weevil into a fireman's carry, then paused briefly beside him to say, with a fleeting smile, "Thanks for the assistance."
"Any time." Ianto watched as Harkness walked away, then gave into a sudden urge. "By the way," he called. "I love the coat."
If he'd been hoping for a response, he was doomed to disappointment for Harkness kept walking as if he hadn't heard. Ianto didn't know whether to hope that he had or not.
**************
Retroactive Diary entry: June 26, 2006
Intrigued or not, Captain Harkness didn't appear to like me much. Or is it Torchwood One he doesn't like?
Ianto shivered in the cool Monday morning air as he stood waiting, coffee cup in hand, outside the deceptively innocuous tourism office that was, in reality, the entrance to Torchwood Three. Two weeks of surveillance, monitoring Captain Harkness and his team, had told him a lot about the Captain's habits. Enough, he hoped, to finally get an audience with the man this morning. He hoped that last night's adventure with the weevil had stirred the Captain's curiosity; his month of grace was nearly over and he only had a week to land this job.
The door to the office opened and Ianto took a deep breath.
Showtime, he thought, and pasted a smile on his face as Captain Harkness emerged.
"Morning!" he said cheerfully. To his credit, the Captain barely paused even though it was clear that he was surprised. Ianto held out the mug. "Coffee?"
He'd half-expected Harkness to refuse to accept it - after all, he was a stranger and the coffee could be laced with anything. But his observations had once again proven correct; Harkness accepted the dare and the mug, taking a large swallow.
Harkness' eyes widened in appreciation. "Wow," he said, handing the mug back with a smile, his eyes flicking down Ianto's body, assessing and apparently liking what he saw.
He took another deep breath. This was it. "I want to work for you."
The mildly interested look on Harkness' face disappeared, replaced by last night's coolness. "Sorry, no vacancies," he said flatly.
Ianto gritted his teeth and held onto his smile, saying persuasively, "Look, let me tell you about myself."
"Ianto Jones, born August 19, 1983," Harkness interrupted, obviously quoting from a report, and Ianto took heart from the fact that the Captain had been intrigued enough to check him out.
His momentary feeling of victory evaporated when Harkness began walking away, although he was still quoting from Ianto's file. "Able student but not exceptional. One minor conviction for shoplifting in your teens. A number of temporary jobs, mainly a drifter, until two years ago when you joined the Torchwood Institute in London. Junior researcher, girlfriend Lisa Hallet..."
Ianto hurried after him. "Deceased," he added, but Harkness didn't even pause as he said a polite "sorry".
This was impossible, trying to have a conversation with the man's back. "Look," Ianto said, grasping Harkness' sleeve and hurrying a bit to step in front of him. "You checked me out."
Harkness halted and looked at him squarely. "You knew what a weevil was. I thought I was going to have to come…deal with you."
"But instead you can see that I have the right qualifications for the job."
"There is no job," he said harshly. "We've nothing to do with Torchwood London. I severed all links." He started walking again: conversation over, decision made.
"But when it burned," Ianto persisted, once more grabbing his arm and forcing him to stop, to face him. "Two of your people scavenged the ruins."
"We don't want the equipment getting into the wrong hands."
Ianto tried not to take offense from the patronizing tone in the Captain's voice. "And you're the right hands, are you?" After all, it was he who had catalogued that equipment; surely Harkness' research would have shown him that. Who else had a right to the guardianship of it now?
Harkness stared at him impassively, clearly not in the least bit shamed by his lots' pillaging, and Ianto sighed. "Trial period," he offered. "Three months."
"No."
"Three weeks. Three days," he said. "Let me prove myself to you. I'll work for nothing."
"No," Harkness said flatly and once more started walking away.
Ianto could feel the headache he'd woken up with trying to make another appearance, could feel cold desperation gripping his stomach. He wouldn't, couldn't forget Lisa, and he had to find the Doctor. Desperately, he reached out and grabbed the Captain's shoulder, stopping him, moving to confront him again. "I saw what they did at Canary Wharf. What am I supposed to do with those memories?"
"You are not my responsibility!" Harkness snapped. "And we're not hiring."
Again, he moved past Ianto, walking down the quay, and Ianto knew better than to try to stop him a fourth time. Instead he called out, "Same time tomorrow, then?" Maybe if he aggravated the man enough, he'd give up.
Harkness wasn't showing any signs of surrender as he kept walking, yelling back without turning around, "There is no job for you here, and there never will be!"
Said firmly enough, and yet…if he was so set against idea, surely he would have just ignored Ianto - and hadn't there been a flicker of something like pain in his eyes at the mention of Canary Wharf? Just a little hint of a crack in the wall? He watched Harkness walk away and, unable to resist a chance to have the last word (again), he called out, "I really like that coat."
He would have bet anything that Harkness had smiled at that, just a little.
******************
Ianto lay on the bed in his darkened flat, a cold compress across his eyes as he tried to relax enough to let the migraine tabs do their work. The past two days had been frustrating. Despite lying in wait outside the tourism office for hours on end, he'd been unable to catch Captain Harkness coming or going although he'd seen the other members of his team. So either Harkness had another way into the place, or he'd gone to ground inside. Monitoring their radios with the headset he'd borrowed from Torchwood London had been less than effective as he got more static than talk - no doubt their computer expert, Dr Sato, had set up sophisticated jamming equipment to prevent just such monitoring. So all he could do was wait, but Ianto didn't have time to play that game. His month was nearly up. It was Thursday and if he wasn't on Torchwood Three's payroll by Monday morning, he had no doubt he'd be waking up in hospital Monday afternoon, victim of a coma with the last two years wiped out.
The thought made his headache spike again, and he forced himself to relax, to forget the consequences of failure and concentrate on success. There had to be something else he could do, some other hand to play. If necessary, he'd follow the Captain the next time he went on the pull and proposition him. The file said that Harkness liked young and attractive, no matter what gender, and the once-over he'd given Ianto had certainly been appreciative. Little as he liked the idea of getting a job because of his cock-sucking skills, Ianto was nearly desperate enough to try that.
A noise from the night table caught his attention and he lifted a corner of the cold compress to glance at the rift detector lying there. Something was coming through the rift - a number of somethings, actually, and he quickly made note of their locations. The majority of them seemed to be located near Cardiff Castle, but a smallish blip was heading in another direction, and it was moving quickly. Locking in on it, he grabbed his coat and car keys and raced out of his flat, headache forgotten.
*******
The blip turned out to be a pteranodon, and the first sight of it flying about the warehouse it had taken refuge in had filled him with awe - for about a minute before he had to sit down and try not to hyperventilate. He'd expected Captain Jack and his team to arrive to investigate, and had monitored the warehouse all night and most of the morning, waiting for them, but there hadn't been any sign of them when he left for a shower and a change of clothing. From their radio conversations, he'd gleamed that yesterday's activity had kept them occupied near the reservoir instead. It appeared that the pterodactyl had flown in - literally - under their radar. Which meant that he'd have to come up with some other way of getting Captain Harkness' attention.
On reflection, stepping out in front of a moving car was probably not the best way to do that.
Harkness stepped out the SUV and stormed towards him, clearly annoyed. "Okay, this has to stop."
"No, listen to me," Ianto began, but Harkness just bulldozed over him.
"I don't have time for this," he snapped. "Look, I don't care what your problem is; I want you out of this city by sunrise. There is no place for you here. Go back to London and find yourself another life. Keep stalking me and I'll wipe your memory."
"No, but the thing is - "
"Look, any conversation between us, no matter what the subject is over. Finished. Done! Forever!" Harkness pointed back at the SUV. "I'm getting back behind the wheel of that car. You're still standing in the road, I'm gonna drive through you."
He's like a force of nature, primal and magnificent and unpredictable, Ianto thought, taking a moment to watch admiringly as Harkness stalked back to his vehicle. Then, with deliberation and in as nonchalant a tone as he could manage, he said, "So you're not going to help me catch this pterodactyl, then?"
The look on Harkness' face was priceless.
*************
Outside the warehouse, Ianto watched as Harkness put together a large syringe of some kind of knock-out drug. "That is the only special equipment you've got?" he asked in disbelief.
Harkness gave him a pointed look. "Yeah, 'cause I keep dinosaur nets in the back of the SUV."
Ianto said, blandly and with deliberately provocation, "Torchwood London would have."
Harkness gave him another annoyed look, then led the way into the warehouse. The pterodactyl - Myfanwy, he'd privately been calling her for the past twenty-four hours - took immediate exception to the newcomer's presence and dive-bombed the doorway. Harkness made a strategic retreat with Ianto on his heels and, leaning against the outside of the door, asked, "How did you find it?"
Ianto shrugged. "Rift activity locator," he said, as if that was a given.
Harkness gave Ianto his first seriously appraising look - well, the first that hadn't been flirting - and said, as if adding things up, "Torchwood London." Then he turned his attention back to the pterodactyl. "Well, it's quite excitable."
Ianto shrugged, looked back at the Captain. Myfanwy hadn't taken much interest in him, other than investigating the tidbits of food he'd tried to tempt her with. She certainly hadn't tried to attack him. "Must be your aftershave."
Harkness met his eyes, smiling smugly. "Never wear any."
Ianto blinked. "You smell like that naturally?" he asked, then flushed slightly as he realized how that sounded.
Harkness grinned as if used to that reaction. "Fifty-first century pheromones. You people have no idea." Ianto turned his head away, not sure what to make of that comment, and Harkness said, "Ready for another go?"
Ianto shrugged. "I'm game if you are."
Harkness did a countdown and they burst back into the warehouse, splitting up to run down opposite sides of the interior, hoping to confuse the creature with multiple targets. It appeared to work; Myfanwy landed in the middle of the floor and turned her head one way and then the other, taking an uncertain step in their direction.
Harkness' face lit up in a way that did something funny to Ianto's stomach as he began coaxing the creature into coming back with him. "I've got somewhere nice and big where you can fly around," Harkness offered persuasively.
Ianto frowned. "So you can take in the pterodactyl but not me?"
Harkness didn't take his eyes off the pterodactyl. "I need a guard dog."
"I can be that," Ianto said immediately. "Receptionist. Building maintenance. Food and drink. Dry cleaning, even - that coat of yours must take a battering. Like a butler," he added. "I could be a butler."
"I don't need a butler."
"Excuse me!" Ianto said, grabbing his arm and pointing at his shirt. "Look at your collar!"
"It was a busy week," Harkness said, sounding like he was gritting his teeth. He probably was; Ianto knew he was being rude and pushy, and his mam would have been horrified by his behaviour, but frankly, he didn't have time to waste.
Harkness tried to pull his arm away but Ianto wasn't having any of it. "What exactly is your plan?" he demanded.
Harkness jerked free and watched Myfanwy for a moment, then said, "I'm going to be the decoy…"
"And it will rip you to shreds."
"Dinosaurs," Harkness said with a shrug and a smirk. "I've had them for breakfast. Only source of pre-cooked food protein after the asteroid crashed." He looked at Ianto and added, "Long story. Here you go!" He handed Ianto the sedative. "One injection to the central nervous cortex - I'll keep it occupied."
He gave Ianto a soldierly punch to the shoulder and Ianto gave him a disbelieving look in return. "No," he said.
"What?" Harkness stared at him in disbelief; clearly he wasn't used to having anyone say that to him.
"It knows me," Ianto said firmly. "I'll make a better decoy."
"It's way too dangerous," Harkness replied but Ianto shook his head.
"I've got a secret weapon." Ianto pulled a large chocolate bar from his inside jacket pocket and held it up. "Chocolate. Preferably dark."
Without waiting for a reply from Harkness, he moved around the side of the warehouse floor, warily eying the pterodactyl as he did so. While it was true that she was slightly more familiar with him, it was highly unlikely that twenty-four hours was enough to make them bosom buddies. At most, it might get him a half-second grace before getting ripped apart. But he was highly aware that Harkness' eyes were on him, that this would be his only chance to prove himself.
He whistled lowly, attracting Myfanwy's attention as he slowly approached it. "Your favourite, yeah," he promised, holding out the candy bar to catch her attention. When she appeared focused on him and not the other man, he gently tossed the chocolate bar in front of her. She was quick to snap up some of the bar although she kept watching him warily. "It's good for your serotonin levels," he added, then said, dubiously, "If you've got serotonin levels."
The pterodactyl looked at him and he suddenly felt quite daft talking to her, even if she appeared to be listening. She looked back down at the chocolate, then suddenly seemed aware of Harkness hovering behind her. As if sensing this might be his only chance, the Captain leaped for her just as she took off into the air again, clinging to her leg by one hand. Ianto watched, heart in his throat, as the man dangled precariously while Myfanwy flew from one end of the warehouse to the other. Somehow, the man managed to pull himself up enough to inject her with the sedative, and then he was plummeting towards the floor.
Instinctively, Ianto moved forward to catch him, although he did little more than cushion Harkness' fall as his momentum knocked them both to the floor. The wind knocked from him, he was barely aware of Harkness' gasped, "Sorry!", more concerned by the sight of the sedated pterodactyl plummeting towards them. He pushed up, rolling them over and away, Harkness moving with him as they rolled again, till Ianto somehow ended up on top, both of them laughing like idiots.
God, he's even more gorgeous when he laughs, Ianto thought, his laugh dying away as he stared down at Jack, mesmerized. As if sensing his change of mood, Jack stopped laughing as well, staring up at him with that compelling intensity, their faces a hair's breadth apart. Like a moth drawn to a flame, Ianto leaned forward that last little bit until their lips met.
Jack's lips were warm and welcoming, moving against his with a dexterity that spoke of extensive experience. It made his breath catch and sent a tingle through his body, from his head to his toes, and made him press closer, eager for more. Jack seemed just as eager, his arms circling Ianto's shoulders and pressing them closer together.
Ianto broke the kiss, suddenly aware that he was hard, harder than he'd ever been in his life, and that the man under him was just as aroused. He felt his face heat with embarrassment as he broke away from Jack's embrace and got to his feet. How could he have forgotten himself so badly? He'd just snogged the man he'd hoped to make his boss, utterly ruining his chances, and this less than two months after the death of his girlfriend. Just what kind of bastard was he? Mortified, he muttered heaven-knew-what and headed towards the door.
"Ianto Jones."
Harkness' voice was commanding, mesmerizing, and it halted him in place even though he longed to flee. "Give me a hand getting her back to the Hub. You can fill out the transfer paperwork while you're there."
Ianto swung around, his mouth dropping open in stunned disbelief. "You mean…"
"You start Monday. General support, which means you do all the shit work no one else
wants to do. Still interested?"
"Yes!" Ianto blurted out, relieved. He'd have a chance to find out more about the Doctor and his Companions. He'd keep his memories, of Torchwood London, of Lisa. Even of these last few embarrassing minutes.
He refused to let himself think which he was more eager to keep.
********************
The Hub was nothing like what he'd expected, Ianto thought as he looked around. After helping drag the pterodactyl into the underground complex, Harkness had blithely instructed him to "have a look around" while he hunted down the appropriate transfer paperwork. Ianto had taken him at his word. In a small kitchen area, Ianto hit the jackpot: a lovely coffee machine that had to be part alien tech. Further digging unearthed coffee: grounds, not beans, but at least they were fresh and a decent brand.
By the time he heard Jack returning, he was pouring two cups of fresh, hot coffee.
"Right then, here we go. Just sign your name and as of Monday, you'll be on Torchwood Three's books," Jack said, entering the kitchen area. "Oh - sorry, that machine's been broken for years…"
Jack's voice trailed off as Ianto turned with two cups of coffee in hand. "Incredible," he said, reverence in his voice as he accepted a cup and breathed in the aroma of a perfect cup of coffee. "And that would be the third reason why I'm hiring you, Ianto Jones."
"The first two would be my persistence and pterodactyl-hunting skills?"
Jack grinned. "That, and you kiss like an angel." He reached out to take Ianto's cup, setting both down on the counter, and said, "Speaking of which, I think we have some unfinished business."
Before Ianto could do more than blink, he found himself pressed back against the counter, Jack's hands on his hips and their faces close together. Jack's body was pressed along his, making Ianto acutely aware of his warmth and strength. "Careful, sir," Ianto murmured. "That's harassment."
"Oh, I don't think so," Jack said, a predatory smile on his face. "For two reasons. One: you don't work for me until Monday morning. And two: you kissed me first."
Ianto considered this for a moment, then nodded. "In that case, sir, there is only one thing to say. Yours or mine?"
Jack's smile widened and he pressed closer. "Mine," he purred. "It's closer."
He released Ianto and grabbed his hand, dragging him out of the kitchen. To Ianto's surprise, he didn't head for the Hub door but instead pulled him into his office and opened a hatch in the floor.
"You live here?" he asked in disbelief. At least that explained why he hadn't seen the man leave the Hub for days.
Jack looked up with a grin. "Yeah. What it lacks in ambiance, it makes up for in convenience." He held his hand out. "Walk into my parlour, Mr. Jones."
"Said the spider to the fly," Ianto murmured even as he took Jack's hand. "That's not putting me at ease, sir."
Jack had started down the ladder and he paused, grinning up at Ianto. "Sir? I think I like you calling me that."
He disappeared from view and Ianto took a deep breath. What in hell was he doing? he wondered. It had only been two months since Lisa had died, and yet here he was, getting ready to crawl into another lover's bed. And a man, at that, something he hadn't done since he'd left school.
"Ianto!" Jack called out, and Ianto found himself climbing down the ladder, as if mesmerized. He found himself standing in a small room and had barely enough time to take in the camp bed and the few other furnishings before Jack's hands were framing his face, Jack's eyes boring into his.
"Ianto, you don't have to do this if you don't want to," he said. "It's not a requirement for being hired, and it's not something I expect as part of your job. Just a pleasant diversion for the night, a little comfort between two lonely souls."
"I want to do this," Ianto said, and was surprised to realize that it was true. He leaned forward, pressing his lips against Jack's again. It was just as heady as it had been the first time and he moaned as he wrapped his arms around Jack's waist, pressing closer for more.
The Captain drew back and beamed at him. "Ianto Jones, I am going to show you such a good time," he purred.
Ianto laughed. "I hope so, sir, but will you respect me in the morning?"
He was again surprised when Jack turned serious for a moment, took his face in his hands and said, "Yes."
And oddly enough, Ianto believed him.
****************
Diary entry: July 1, 2006
The rumours are confirmed. All of them. Well, all but one, as I did not have my measuring tape with me at the time…
Ianto woke to the realization that someone quite near by was watching him sleep. He blinked his eyes open; it was Jack, propped up on one elbow, an enigmatic look on his face. Once he realized that Ianto was awake, the look changed to his usual flirtatious one, and Ianto felt a twinge of loss.
"Morning, beautiful," Jack said, leaning down to brush a kiss over his lips.
"Morning," Ianto returned, then yawned. "What time is it?"
"Early," Jack said. "Thought you might want to get on your way before the team turns up."
"Right," Ianto said, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. "Don't want them thinking that I'm shagging the boss."
Jack leered at him. "Not that the boss minds."
Ianto laughed and leaned forward to kiss him briefly. "Shower?"
"Through there." Jack gestured at a doorway. "It's functional but small - otherwise, I'd offer to wash your back," he added lecherously.
Jack had been right - the shower was barely big enough for a grown man, but the water was hot and the pressure was heavenly. When he got out, he found that his host had set a new razor and toothbrush on the sink, beside fresh towels.
He grinned at his reflection in the mirror as he brushed and shaved. Last night had been just what he'd needed. His body ached in new and delicious ways, and he fingered a love-bite on his shoulder dreamily. His heart still ached for Lisa and he thought it always would, that he would love her forever, but for the first time in months, he thought he might be able to get past her death.
He thought about the boxes he'd brought from London, still unpacked. Somewhere in one of them was a leather diary Lisa had given him for Christmas. It was blank except for her inscription and he hadn't even looked at it since then, but suddenly he decided that he'd find it and start writing in it as soon as he got back to his flat. A new start needed to be documented, and the past deserved to be remembered.
*************
Diary entry: September 13, 2006
Following up on the disappearance of several persons over the past year, Captain Harkness decided to take the entire team to the Brecon Beacons to investigate. One can only surmise that he intended it as a team-building exercise. Oddly enough, it worked, but not as I image the Captain planned it…
Ianto stared out the window of the SUV, eyes on the countryside as Owen ranted on and on about something while the rest of the team did their best to ignore him. He had the feeling that Jack's "team-building trip to the countryside" was about to go pear-shaped.
Things had been…complicated since Suzie's death and the subsequent hiring of Gwen Cooper. The team had been unsettled, with odd eddies of anger and attraction pulling at all of them. Today, Owen was clearly annoyed, and Ianto knew full well who he was going to take it out on. Gwen was distracted, staring at first Owen and then Jack and then out the window before starting the whole thing over again. Toshiko was unhappy at being pulled away from the Hub and a program she'd been nursing, and she'd been hunched over her laptop since they'd left Cardiff. They were all doing their best to ignore Jack, still punishing him for letting Jasmine go with the fairies. And Jack - well, Jack had been his usual enigmatic and calculatingly charming self the whole trip, obviously blind to the fact that he was driving a powder-keg ready to explode at any moment.
It was enough to make Ianto long for his quiet little cubby-hole at the Tourist Information office.
If he'd known what he was getting into months ago, maybe he would have taken Jack's advice and left town. Torchwood Three was a disorganized, not to say chaotic mess, and since Suzie's death, the team had been unravelling faster than Jack could knit them back together. Ianto thought that this trip would be just as ill-fated as last week's karaoke night, although probably not as painful.
Watching Gwen watch Owen again, he felt an odd vibe between them, something he'd noticed since they'd been accidentally locked together in one of the cold storage lockers when a weevil had escaped in the hub the previous week earlier. Maybe they'd go off for a snog in the bushes and get it out of their systems, he hoped. At least it would give Owen something to do other than picking on Tosh or him.
Later, when Gwen started the silly kissing game, Ianto's belief that he'd been consigned to one of the levels of hell was confirmed. Gwen was smug, claiming her boyfriend as her last - as if anyone had been surprised, although the looks she'd given both Owen and Jack had indicated that she'd expected at least one of them to be jealous. (Which was probably why she'd started the damn game in the first place.) Tosh blushed painfully as she'd admitted that it had been last Christmas with Owen, and he'd been as unpleasant as usual in the face of her (in Ianto's opinion, unfathomable) crush on him. Owen, as usual, set the cat among the pigeons, claiming Gwen as his last. Toshiko looked miserable at that and muttered something under her breath that set up Gwen's back, and Ianto was ready to jump in with a diversion when, to his surprise, Jack got there first, contributing his own "last kiss" story. Of course, Jack wiggled out of it with one of his usual outrageous lies, but Ianto had been caught by surprise and didn't realize the others were staring at him expectantly for a long moment.
"My turn, is it?" he asked, looking around, surprised at being the momentary focus of their attention. Most of the time, the team acted like he was invisible, and he really hadn't expected to be included in the game. Owen clearly thought he was going to pass - probably thought he was still a virgin - but Gwen gave him an encouraging (and kindly condescending) nod. Tosh was staring at the ground, ignoring them all, and Jack… He briefly met Jack's eyes before looking back down, at the fire.
"The last girl I kissed was Lisa - my girlfriend, when I lived in London," he said quietly, opting for discretion.
Gwen arched an eyebrow at him. "The quiet Mr. Jones has a girl, has he? Did you leave her behind with a broken heart, or is she joining you here?"
He heard Jack's breath catch, and then the Captain said, warningly, "Gwen, leave it alone."
"Oi! Don't butt in, Jack," Owen said, leaning back with a cynical smile on his face. "Let the tea-boy tell us more about this girl of his. Shop-girl, was she, or a coffee barista? Did you get as far as holding her hand, or is that why you came to Cardiff, fleeing from rejection?"
Something inside Ianto flared to life, the pain of loss he thought he'd pushed down fanning his anger to a sudden white-hot flame. "She was Torchwood. We shared a flat and a bed, and she was killed at Canary Wharf," he said coolly. There was a sudden stunned silence. "You want to know more? Lisa worked in the HR department and snuck down to the Archives that last day for a snog. It was a bit of a game among the staff on the upper floors, to see what they could slip past Hartman during their breaks.
"Next time I saw her, she was strapped to a metal frame, stuck in the middle of the conversion process, half-human and half-metal. She - she looked like she was asleep, lying there, if you didn't pay too much attention to the bullet UNIT had put between her eyes."
He noticed the utter stillness of the others and glanced up. Gwen looked horrified, Toshiko had tears in her eyes, and Owen was studiously staring at the fire, his lips twisted in a grimace. Jack was utterly still, as if carved out of stone.
"Ianto, I'm sorry," Gwen managed to say, finally.
Ianto's lip twisted. "Sorry she's dead, or sorry you asked?"
Gwen drew in a sharp breath, as if he'd slapped her. Owen muttered something about firewood before taking off towards the woods with Gwen behind him.
Ianto suddenly realized that he was clenching his fist so tight that it hurt, that his stomach was roiling and another migraine was building. He didn't want to be sick in front of the others so he stood up. "Right. Best get started on the dinner preparations if we want to eat before dark."
Blindly, he staggered off in the direction of the storage tent. He tripped over one of the stakes and would have fallen if not for the firm hand that grasped his arm.
"Are you all right?" Jack asked softly, his voice pitched for his ears alone. Ianto should have been grateful, but once again, his anger flared up and he wanted to strike out, to punch Jack for being alive while so many had died.
What do you care? Ianto wanted to shout. You haven't noticed me for months, except to leer at my arse in those suits you like. I clean up your shit, no questions asked, and that's the way you like it. When did you last ask me anything about my life? When did you last notice me as a person? What he managed to say out loud was "Fine, sir."
"No, you're not. Sit - and that's an order."
Ianto found himself shoved down onto a crate and then Jack was crouched in front of him, a hand on his knee. "I'm sorry about your girl," Jack said gently. "I lost someone I cared about at Canary Wharf; I know how much it hurts."
Ianto's head jerked up and he met Jack's eyes. His anger drained away, leaving him tired and empty. "Sir, it wasn't your fault. It was the Doctor."
Jack frowned. "The Doctor was just trying to help."
"And yet it's odd how the Doctor's help always seems to get people killed," Ianto said flatly. "I worked in the archives; I've read his history."
Jack sighed. "Look, I know that Torchwood London has a bad opinion of the Doctor, but I know him personally and he really tries to help." Ianto gave him a doubtful look and Jack reached out to lay his hand along his cheek. "Trust me. The Doctor is a good guy."
Ianto's migraine flared and he itched to have his diary in his hands, to write down all his jumbled thoughts and feelings. "If you say so, sir."
"I do." Jack smiled. "Maybe one day I can introduce you to the Doctor and you'll see for yourself."
"I'd like that." Ianto met Jack's eyes squarely. "And I do trust you, sir."
Something flared deep in Jack's eyes, something that made heat pool low in Ianto's belly, making the incipient migraine flee. Jack leaned closer, murmuring, "About that 'most recent kiss' - you were very discreet, Ianto."
"I did say that she was the most recent girl I kissed," Ianto pointed out with a half-smile. "Not the most recent person."
"So you did."
"Whereas you claimed yours was an alien."
"She was. Well, technically she was a girl inhabited by an alien." Jack's lips brushed his. "Maybe you could help me change my answer."
Before Ianto could reply, they heard Gwen yell for help.
******************
Time Passages - part two