Fic: Yesterday
This is part of my Who100 table, but it's really more of an excercise in trying to understand Ianto. Any thoughts on my interpreation/presentation of him here would be interesting to hear.
Title: Yesterday (prompt #11)
Rating: R for language.
Pairings: Jack/Ianto, Jack/Five (mentioned), Jack/Nine (impied)
Summary: Jack mysteriously vanishes at the same time as sightings are reported of a funny wooden box. And then he comes back again. Set during Torchwood series one.
Spoilers: Possibly for the end of 'They keep Killing Suzie' but actually, you're probably alright.
Length: 1,000 words
Table: here
Gwen is first down the stairs, wrapping her arms around Jack. He laughs, pries her away, and is promptly smacked on the back by Owen, who says “where’ve you been, you old git?” Jack gives a little shake of his head, but smiles at him, fondly.
Ianto and Toshiko stand and smile as Gwen tells him off. He lets “we were so worried!” and “anything could have happened” and “even Tosh couldn’t find you with any of her tech” pass without comment. He’s home now. None of them could begin to understand where he has been for the last twenty-four hours, so he won’t begin to tell them.
Toshiko gives him a small, relived smile. “I’m just glad you’re safe,” she tells him. Gwen, now that she has vented, seems perfectly happy, and Owen probably doesn’t care beyond the excitement Jack’s disappearance has caused.
It’s Ianto that won’t let the subject blow over any time soon. Ianto, who watches him in silence as he inspects Gwen’s reports, listens to Toshiko’s update on some interesting alien artefacts they found, and lets Owen tell him a gruesome story about decapitated corpses that turned out to be the work of just some psycho.
“Nothing interesting for Torchwood,” Owen concludes, and Gwen launches into an argument they’ve already had, about whether or not the bodies should be kept in the hub or returned to the police.
Jack lets them bicker. He’ll have the final word on the matter later, once he’s had time to review the whole case. For now, he’s got other things to see to.
He climbs the stairs to his office, followed at a respectful distance by Ianto. Behind his desk, he leans down to open a special locked drawer, and heaves out a densely packed file.
“There were some sightings,” says Ianto, from the doorway. “Yesterday, very early. Practically night-time really. I was on my way in, didn’t get the reports until it was too late and it had gone.”
Jack looks up, very briefly. Ianto is not just looking at him, he’s studying Jack very closely. Ianto, Jack has learned, notices far more than his colleagues give him credit for.
“Sightings,” Jack repeats.
“That’s right. I wouldn’t bother you with them, it’s silly really, except… Well, I worked in Canary Warf, as you know, and I recognised the description.” He straightens up, coughs slightly. “I also do your filing, sir.”
Jack stares through the sheath of papers in front of him. He tries to filter out Ianto and the hub, tries to focus his mind on his memories of yesterday. Memories he wants to keep fresh, sharp, undistorted. He will repeat them to himself again and again so they never lose their quality. So they will always feel as though they happened only yesterday.
“I’ve always wondered, sir… That blue box. It appears and vanishes all over the world. In Canary Warf an alarm went off every time it was detected, but you lock those files away, and there’s evidence of…” he pulls a face to indicate that it pains him to accuse his Captain, “tampering in the computer systems. Every mention of it gone or hidden or encrypted. No alarms, no alerts. Not here. It’s like you don’t want anyone to think about it.”
Jack lets the image of clean, white walls and never ending corridors fade from his mind’s eye. “Sorry, Ianto. I was miles away. Light-years away, in fact. What’s the problem?”
“Not a problem as such, sir.”
Jack takes in the determined expression on the young man’s face, and the closed door behind him. He sighs, gestures.
“Why don’t you take a seat.”
Ianto approaches the desk, but he doesn’t sit down. He always prefers to stand around Jack, as though waiting on him, and that makes Jack just a little uneasy.
Of course, there are other times when Ianto insists on standing that Jack has no complaints about. It occurs to him that perhaps he can distract Ianto from this line of questioning, the same way he found himself distracted from his own questions yesterday.
“Another thing, sir. That key you asked me to keep safe. Something… strange happened to it yesterday. It sort of… I don’t know, sir. Faded.”
“Faded,” Jack repeats.
“Yes, sir. As though it wasn’t sure whether to exist or not. And then it came back, properly, about an hour ago.”
“That’s funny,” says Jack dismissively. He gets up, ambles around the desk, pausing to pick up a paper bag from the table where he dropped it days ago.
“That’s what I thought,” says Ianto, watching him every step of the way. “It was also funny that it happened around the same time you vanished, and the sightings were reported-”
“Maybe you need glasses.”
“Perhaps,” says Ianto, smiling thinly.
Jack holds up the bag, gives it a little shake. “I bought you something. Well, bought us something. A little present, from that shop with the ridiculously blacked-out windows. Twenty-first century Britain! You people are pathetic.” He tucks the bag, and his hand, into Ianto’s pocket, and leans in to give him a kiss.
Ianto’s reaction is exactly what Jack hoped for. He puts his arms around Jack’s waist, and dutifully opens his mouth, allowing Jack to deepen the kiss. Jack gives his fingers a little twitch, inside Ianto’s pocket, and grins at the instant, eager response.
Ianto has reddened, his cheeks flushed with colour. Coy and shy on the outside, but Jack’s fucked him before, and knows better than that. In that moment, Jack sees another man standing before him, pale, apparently young and innocent. He shakes his head. That is his past and his future. Time to focus on the present.
“I understand, sir,” says Ianto, suddenly. He must have caught the look in Jack’s eye. He smiles. “You belong to him. Whoever he is. I get it. You don’t have to worry about that.”
Jack nods, gratefully. And for a while, he can let himself forget about yesterday.
Title: Yesterday (prompt #11)
Rating: R for language.
Pairings: Jack/Ianto, Jack/Five (mentioned), Jack/Nine (impied)
Summary: Jack mysteriously vanishes at the same time as sightings are reported of a funny wooden box. And then he comes back again. Set during Torchwood series one.
Spoilers: Possibly for the end of 'They keep Killing Suzie' but actually, you're probably alright.
Length: 1,000 words
Table: here
Gwen is first down the stairs, wrapping her arms around Jack. He laughs, pries her away, and is promptly smacked on the back by Owen, who says “where’ve you been, you old git?” Jack gives a little shake of his head, but smiles at him, fondly.
Ianto and Toshiko stand and smile as Gwen tells him off. He lets “we were so worried!” and “anything could have happened” and “even Tosh couldn’t find you with any of her tech” pass without comment. He’s home now. None of them could begin to understand where he has been for the last twenty-four hours, so he won’t begin to tell them.
Toshiko gives him a small, relived smile. “I’m just glad you’re safe,” she tells him. Gwen, now that she has vented, seems perfectly happy, and Owen probably doesn’t care beyond the excitement Jack’s disappearance has caused.
It’s Ianto that won’t let the subject blow over any time soon. Ianto, who watches him in silence as he inspects Gwen’s reports, listens to Toshiko’s update on some interesting alien artefacts they found, and lets Owen tell him a gruesome story about decapitated corpses that turned out to be the work of just some psycho.
“Nothing interesting for Torchwood,” Owen concludes, and Gwen launches into an argument they’ve already had, about whether or not the bodies should be kept in the hub or returned to the police.
Jack lets them bicker. He’ll have the final word on the matter later, once he’s had time to review the whole case. For now, he’s got other things to see to.
He climbs the stairs to his office, followed at a respectful distance by Ianto. Behind his desk, he leans down to open a special locked drawer, and heaves out a densely packed file.
“There were some sightings,” says Ianto, from the doorway. “Yesterday, very early. Practically night-time really. I was on my way in, didn’t get the reports until it was too late and it had gone.”
Jack looks up, very briefly. Ianto is not just looking at him, he’s studying Jack very closely. Ianto, Jack has learned, notices far more than his colleagues give him credit for.
“Sightings,” Jack repeats.
“That’s right. I wouldn’t bother you with them, it’s silly really, except… Well, I worked in Canary Warf, as you know, and I recognised the description.” He straightens up, coughs slightly. “I also do your filing, sir.”
Jack stares through the sheath of papers in front of him. He tries to filter out Ianto and the hub, tries to focus his mind on his memories of yesterday. Memories he wants to keep fresh, sharp, undistorted. He will repeat them to himself again and again so they never lose their quality. So they will always feel as though they happened only yesterday.
“I’ve always wondered, sir… That blue box. It appears and vanishes all over the world. In Canary Warf an alarm went off every time it was detected, but you lock those files away, and there’s evidence of…” he pulls a face to indicate that it pains him to accuse his Captain, “tampering in the computer systems. Every mention of it gone or hidden or encrypted. No alarms, no alerts. Not here. It’s like you don’t want anyone to think about it.”
Jack lets the image of clean, white walls and never ending corridors fade from his mind’s eye. “Sorry, Ianto. I was miles away. Light-years away, in fact. What’s the problem?”
“Not a problem as such, sir.”
Jack takes in the determined expression on the young man’s face, and the closed door behind him. He sighs, gestures.
“Why don’t you take a seat.”
Ianto approaches the desk, but he doesn’t sit down. He always prefers to stand around Jack, as though waiting on him, and that makes Jack just a little uneasy.
Of course, there are other times when Ianto insists on standing that Jack has no complaints about. It occurs to him that perhaps he can distract Ianto from this line of questioning, the same way he found himself distracted from his own questions yesterday.
“Another thing, sir. That key you asked me to keep safe. Something… strange happened to it yesterday. It sort of… I don’t know, sir. Faded.”
“Faded,” Jack repeats.
“Yes, sir. As though it wasn’t sure whether to exist or not. And then it came back, properly, about an hour ago.”
“That’s funny,” says Jack dismissively. He gets up, ambles around the desk, pausing to pick up a paper bag from the table where he dropped it days ago.
“That’s what I thought,” says Ianto, watching him every step of the way. “It was also funny that it happened around the same time you vanished, and the sightings were reported-”
“Maybe you need glasses.”
“Perhaps,” says Ianto, smiling thinly.
Jack holds up the bag, gives it a little shake. “I bought you something. Well, bought us something. A little present, from that shop with the ridiculously blacked-out windows. Twenty-first century Britain! You people are pathetic.” He tucks the bag, and his hand, into Ianto’s pocket, and leans in to give him a kiss.
Ianto’s reaction is exactly what Jack hoped for. He puts his arms around Jack’s waist, and dutifully opens his mouth, allowing Jack to deepen the kiss. Jack gives his fingers a little twitch, inside Ianto’s pocket, and grins at the instant, eager response.
Ianto has reddened, his cheeks flushed with colour. Coy and shy on the outside, but Jack’s fucked him before, and knows better than that. In that moment, Jack sees another man standing before him, pale, apparently young and innocent. He shakes his head. That is his past and his future. Time to focus on the present.
“I understand, sir,” says Ianto, suddenly. He must have caught the look in Jack’s eye. He smiles. “You belong to him. Whoever he is. I get it. You don’t have to worry about that.”
Jack nods, gratefully. And for a while, he can let himself forget about yesterday.