Hanesyddol
Nov. 25th, 2010 10:48 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sariagrayTitle: Hanesyddol
Author:![[info]](https://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=1)
sariagray
Characters/Pairings: Jack/Ianto, Doctor (Ten), Donna, mentions of Owen a couple of times.
Rating: PG13
Word Count: ~3500
Spoilers: Takes place post-KKBB, pre-Exit Wounds. Sort of. Possible spoilers through end of Season Four of Doctor Who.
Warnings: Language, slight sexual implications, serious screwing with canon timelines (by "serious screwing" I mean that I blatantly ignored them sometimes), unbeta'd.
Disclaimer: Everything I own can fit in my room. Torchwood does not fit.
Author's Note: This is forthebuttonontop's birthday. Penblwydd Hapus, hun! Okay, so her birthday is tomorrow, but she told me to post it today because we will be en route to Chicago tomorrow! (*cheers*) She gave me a list of things she wanted from which I could choose; I tried to cover all of them (and I think I only missed one!). The title is Welsh for “Historic.” So I’m told, anyway. But what do I know?
Author's Note Part II: Happy Thanksgiving to all of you in the US! Enjoy your turkey and familysquabbles togetherness! Amongst the multitude of things for which I'm thankful, all of you are included for your friendship and support and wonderfulness. :)
The date Jack had spent a good portion of his time planning was supposed to go off without a hitch. While he had expected some anxiety and hesitation, he had hoped that the previous months of perpetual shagging would have tempered that strange feeling of uncertainty.
Hopes aside, Ianto had been politely and uncomfortably quiet for most of the night.
Jack stared at him as the man fastidiously stirred his soup, letting it cool properly. The concentrated focus made it look as if he were trying to will it cold. Jack was fairly positive that the look in his eyes could cool it and with decent speed.
“Is everything all right?” he chanced.
“Hmm? Oh. Yes, it’s just a bit hot.”
Scowling, Jack leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. “Not the soup. You. Is everything all right with you?”
“Fine.” Ianto still hadn’t looked up, scrying for answers in the bowl.
“Let me rephrase that. Something’s bothering you. What is it?”
Ianto froze, his spoon in mid-stir.
There was a clink as the couple at the nearest table toasted one another with crystal champagne flutes. The sound paired with the practiced twinkling of impromptu piano playing. Someone laughed heartily over the low hum of conversation. Ianto remained silent and still, though he finally raised his head to meet Jack’s gaze.
Jack watched as the candle at the center of the table cast a glow of false warmth to their frigid table and created shadows in Ianto’s eyes. Or maybe that wasn’t the candles.
“Ianto,” he sighed again. “I can’t explain what happened while I was gone, but I can tell you that it made me realize I want to do this right. Talk to me. Please?”
Ianto let the spoon fall from his hand and looked Jack squarely in the eye. “I spoke to Gwen.”
“Oh?” Jack raised an eyebrow and studied him curiously.
“I’m just wondering if you also pulled Owen and Tosh aside to declare that you came back for them, as well. I can’t really imagine Owen taking it that well; he doesn’t seem the type.”
“Oh.”
Testing a small portion of his soup, Ianto deemed it to have reached a manageable temperature. Calmly, methodically, he swallowed a spoonful before looking back up at Jack.
“What do you want, Jack?”
Jack let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. “You. I thought I made that clear.”
“I thought so, too, until I heard otherwise. I know she has feelings for you. I’m fairly certain you reciprocate.”
Laughing a bit shakily, Jack shook his head. “I came back for her because she needs a hero. I came back for you because I do, too.”
Jack thought it a rather clever line and it bordered so closely on the truth that he was most certainly not expecting the amused laughter that came on its heels.
“What?” Jack demanded. “You don’t believe me?”
“Believe you? Yes. I believe that you need a hero. I also believe that you left us for him.”
Ianto thought it a rather clever line and was so sure it was the truth that he was most certainly not expecting the hurt, dejected look in Jack’s eyes.
“He is a hero. He isn’t mine, though. I – he says I’m…wrong.”
“About?” Ianto swallowed another spoonful of soup, his interest in this turn of events granting him a more casual freedom of movement.
“No, he thinks that my existence is wrong. That I’m unnatural. The whole not-staying-dead-and-possibly-living-forever bit.” Jack smiled and it wavered across his face, a flicker like a broken hologram. He ran his hand through his hair distractedly.
Ianto’s grip tensed, then relaxed and the spoon clattered into the bowl, shaking Jack from his misery just in time to catch a feral protective look flash in Ianto’s eyes.
“You aren’t wrong. You know that, don’t you? If I ever see him, I’ll –“ He searched his mind for something particularly torturous, but was interrupted by Jack’s chuckle.
“Told you I needed a hero.”
There was a pause of silence before they both laughed and a weight noticeably lifted. Their date progressively improved, though they never made it to the promised movie. They also never mentioned Gwen or the Doctor for the rest of the evening.
*****
“Fuck!” he cried two weeks later as Jack pushed him up against a filing cabinet.
While he wasn’t prone to swearing at work (Owen had that particular market cornered already, and did it well enough), Ianto was taken by surprise. He had been completely absorbed in perusing the thick stack of files for a rather particular form and hadn’t heard Jack sneak up.
Jack pressed their mouths together to silence the outburst and moved Ianto’s hands up over his head, holding him in place. Ianto let him for a moment, relishing the contact, and then jerked roughly out of his grasp.
Bent on being contrary, Jack countered his aggressive actions with an exaggerated pout. “You finished yet?”
Glancing pointedly at the files that Jack’s maneuver had caused to be knocked to the floor, pages strewn about like autumn leaves, Ianto shook his head firmly. He stepped away purposefully and adjusted his clothing with brisk, sharp movements.
“C’mon. It can wait. I bet I can persuade your boss to let you off early.”
“While your charming smile may disarm most, I doubt that you’d manage to persuade Her Majesty of anything,” he responded flatly as he set about retrieving the scattered pages.
Jack stepped back to lean against the table, his palms flat against the meticulously polished surface and his body displayed to its best advantage. He raised an eyebrow. “Outside the government, remember?”
“Yes, I know, and beyond the police. Clearly that’s worked well.”
“Hmm. And you’ll be done…when?”
“You have a distinct lack of patience for a man who can live forever,” Ianto muttered.
The air seemed to chill as the silence bore down heavily. Ianto debated whether to ignore it or meet it head on. Slowly he rose and turned to Jack. He was still leaning against the table and would look completely unchanged to the rest of the world. The only difference was the slight off-kilter slump of his shoulders as if they sustained the weight of the world.
“And you have too much patience for a man who can’t,” Jack pointed out, his voice almost imperceptibly tinged with grief and something like hesitation, as though he were trying to cover truth with a well-placed lie.
“Perhaps,” Ianto calmly agreed as he approached and rested his hand on Jack’s upper arm.
“That’s all? No promises? No wise words?”
“Nope. What’s the point? I’m going to die. We both know you’re going to outlive me no matter what happens.”
“Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
Ianto nodded. “I know. But at some point, you’ll move on.”
“I won’t. Not really. Move on, I mean.”
Ianto looked at him searchingly with mock concern. “Oh. This is bad if you’re getting sentimental.”
Jack nodded dramatically. “I need your coffee to survive.”
“You...!” he growled and punched Jack lightly in the arm.
Jack flashed him a smile, bright and gleaming and big. Then the grin retreated, dissolved by the acidity of serious revelations. “Ianto, I –“
“Either help me pick up these files or get out, Jack. The sooner I get them done, the sooner we can go ho – back to mine.”
“Files? Oh! I think I hear Owen calling for me!” Jack cocked his head as if to listen. “What is it, Owen? Janet’s in trouble?” He smirked at Ianto mischievously and rushed out the way he had come.
“You could’ve at least pretended to use your comm.!” Ianto called after him, shaking his head ruefully. “No respect for good performance anymore. Can’t even stay in character,” he muttered to himself as he bent to retrieve the rest of the papers.
Jack was beginning to get worried. At least, he was calling it “worried.” It seemed to be an emotion somewhere straddling “bored” and “impatient” on its way to “frustrated beyond measure.” Surely Ianto didn’t need an hour to pick up some papers? He bit his lip. Okay, so maybe he was a little worried.
He spread his collection of documents on the tabletop; they had all unsorted themselves in a most inconvenient way. Pulling up a chair, he sat himself in front of his daunting task. Jack was going to pay (which unfortunately meant that Jack was going to be rewarded).
Ianto picked up a form and glanced at it, placing it down neatly as the beginning of an alphabetized pile. He went to pick up another sheet, but it fluttered away from him. He looked at it curiously. Then others begin to flutter and he felt a draft. His pressed his palms against the tabletop and sensed a low humming vibration.
What was more bizarre, he heard a low humming vibration. There was something familiar about the noise, which sounded like wind steadily climbing to a crescendo, only deeper and raspier. Instinctively, he went to press his finger to his comm. to alert Jack when he realized just why it was familiar. No need to tell Jack anything, at least not yet. He had a promise to keep.
He stood as the blue box materialized, patiently waiting for the Time Lord to emerge. The door swung open and a head poked out. A hand reached up and adjusted the spectacles resting on his nose. The Doctor (Jack’s Doctor, Ianto reminded himself) squinted and his mouth parted in surprise.
He stepped out and, seeing Ianto, approached quickly with a grin and a particularly enthusiastic gait.
“Ah!” he cried happily. “You must be Ianto Jo-“
He was cut off abruptly by Ianto’s fist contacting squarely (the arc of the swing was profoundly beautiful) with his jaw.
“Oh, I like you!” cried a loud feminine voice from the door of the Tardis. “I’ve wanted to do that for ages!”
Ianto looked up as a woman (very ginger and beaming with the thrilled glee of a child come Christmas morning) approached.
“Why haven’t you?” Ianto inquired, readjusting his tie with casual grace.
“Never punch the driver,” she shrugged, still grinning broadly. She extended her hand by way of greeting. “Donna Noble.”
“What was that for? I haven’t even met you yet.” The Doctor paused and glanced at Ianto suspiciously as he stood. “Er, I haven't, have I?”
“Nope,” Ianto responded from his chair.
“Well?” The Doctor rubbed his face and scowled at Donna who had let out a sharp bark of laughter.
“That was for Jack,” Ianto stated simply.
“Well, then go punch him! He probably deserves it.”
Ianto decided to change his tactic. “Why are you here? Need Jack to help you save the world again?”
“Actually, I’m here for you, it seems.” He looked back at the Tardis as if consulting her. “Yep. You.”
“What for?”
“He thinks you’re…important,” Donna interjected. “And he needs you to come with us.”
“Why? Where?”
“Just a short trip,” the Doctor assured. “Jack won’t even know you’re gone.”
“Like hell he won’t,” a determined voice rose from the shadows.
“Oh. Jack,” the Doctor acknowledged warily.
“Oh! I like him, too!” Donna exclaimed as she watched Jack step into the light. Ianto snorted.
Jack flashed his trademark grin in her direction and rounded on the Doctor again. “Kidnapping my employees now?”
The Doctor sighed. “I take it you’ll want to come, too, then. All right, everyone in.”
Donna’s eyes lit up and Jack nodded, stepping protectively to Ianto’s side. He squeezed his shoulder in reassurance and leaned down to press a kiss to his temple. Donna’s eyes widened.
“Oh, of course!” she muttered and retreated to the Tardis sulkily. The Doctor followed.
Gripping Ianto’s arm, Jack gently guided him to stand. Pressing their foreheads together, he smiled. It was genuine this time.
“C’mon. Now I get to be your hero.”
Ianto rolled his eyes, chuckled and kissed him quickly. “Too late. I already punched him.”
“You – you what?”
Ianto gave a slight shrug as the Doctor popped his head back out of the door to glare at them impatiently.
“I’ll explain later,” Ianto smirked proudly and tugged Jack towards the Tardis.
If Ianto was surprised or uncertain or excited, he didn’t show it outwardly. He regarded the interior with an archivist’s eye for placing detail and it appeared as though he were mentally cataloging each feature. He ran a hand along the length a coral beam and felt the tingle of life beneath his fingers. He hummed appreciatively as the others watched.
Only Jack noticed the gleam in his eye, heard the awe in the slight change of rapid breathing. He smiled knowingly and turned to the Doctor, a casual pose masking his wary distrust.
“So, Doc. Where we going?”
The Doctor turned to Jack, keeping an eye on Ianto in an attempt to gauge his reaction. “We’re nipping back in time a handful of years. I want to see something and I need him to see it, too.”
“So the world isn’t ending?” Jack raised a highly suspicious eyebrow.
“It’s always ending,” Donna piped up good naturedly. “Who’s for tea?”
They arrived in an empty field late at night. Ianto could tell that they were still in Cardiff as the area looked vaguely familiar, though he couldn’t quite place it. The thick grass underfoot was marked with dew and a light mist was barely visible as it hung low to the ground. The full moon glowed bright, somehow making the chill air feel colder. Jack wrapped an arm around Ianto and pulled him close as the Doctor’s eyes searched the vicinity.
“Right!” the Time Lord whispered harshly. “Hide behind those trees there, the lot of you. Can’t go crossing timelines!”
Jack looked at him, curiosity etching his features, but led Ianto to a small copse of trees and brush on the perimeter. Donna and the Doctor trailed closely behind.
“I’ve got to,” came Ianto’s voice from a distance.
Ianto himself froze and Jack, finally understanding, shot a hard scowl at the Doctor.
“No! He didn’t want it like this!”
“I’m sorry, Jack. But this has to happen.”
Ianto kept half an ear focused on the conversation around him. The rest of his attention was fixated on himself, walking with Jack into the clearing.
Jack put a hand on Ianto’s shoulder to stop him.
“You don’t have to do this, you know.”
Ianto broke the contact and walked forward into the glade with determined strides.
“I’ve got to,” he responded, his clipped words full of intense sadness.
“No, you don’t. Stay with me. We can protect you. I’ll protect you.”
Stopping, he turned to face Jack, his eyes forming the apology his mouth couldn’t muster.
“It’s not as simple as that, Jack. And this won’t be forever. Just…just until it’s safe. You’re in danger, too, just by being with me.”
Jack grabbed him and kissed him, hard and full of need. Ianto placed a hand around Jack’s neck, returning the gesture with equal amounts of longing.
They pulled away slowly to reclaim their breath, panting in the cool air.
“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Jack whispered.
“I’m set up in London?” Ianto asked, his head resting on Jack’s shoulder, as Jack nodded. “And you’ve got the coral?” Jack nodded again and Ianto stepped back, retrieving the two objects he’d need from a black rucksack. “Guard this watch with your…lives.”
Ianto gave a little smile and placed the strange device on his head as he handed Jack the watch.
“Be careful,” Jack warned. “I –“
“I know, Jack,” Ianto interrupted, smiling dolefully. “Me, too.”
And then Ianto screamed.
“It…it doesn’t make sense.”
They had returned to the Tardis and were drinking obligatory cups of tea at the Doctor’s insistence. It was strong and sweet, which was good for a shock, but Ianto might have been drinking tepid water for all he could taste it.
“You had to hide. Something was coming for you, but you wouldn’t tell me what. I think the threat’s long past now. But your Tardis isn’t ready yet,” Jack murmured with a small smile, his hand on Ianto’s shoulder acting as a lifeline.
“Do you have it? The pocket watch?” the Doctor asked anxiously.
Jack shifted his coat and indicated to the chain hanging from his waistcoat before he pointedly covered it with his coat again. The Doctor sighed.
“Right,” Donna said, exasperated. “So there’re more bloody Time Lords out there in hiding.” She paused and adopted a terrified countenance, turning quickly to face the Doctor. “He’s…he isn’t…the…?”
“No!” Jack growled out angrily. “He’s not.”
“Jack,” Ianto said, coming out of his thoughts slowly as realization punched him in the stomach. “You – it’s why you didn’t want me to work for you. Oh, God. Lisa! It must’ve…all that time…”
Leaning over, he placed a soft kiss to Ianto’s lips to silence him. “It’s fine now,” he whispered as he pulled away.
“If he’s not the Master, and that one’s the Doctor, who’s he, then?” Donna asked curiously.
“The Historian,” both the Doctor and Jack replied simultaneously, never tearing their eyes away from Ianto.
A stillness ensued. It wasn’t oppressive or awkward, simply weighty with thoughts that stretched languidly through time.
The Doctor cleared his throat and spoke gently. “Are you ready? The threat is long gone, I promise.”
Ianto nodded and made to stand, but was stopped in the process by Jack’s firm grip holding him in place.
“Are you sure?”
He stood and gave Jack a kiss, chaste and yet with lingering promise. He nodded again and Jack retrieved the pocket watch from his waistcoat.
“I always wondered what that was for,” Ianto muttered and smiled.
Jack grinned and held it out to him. They looked into each other’s eyes, the electricity in the connection sparking tangibly. Ianto reached over and folded his hands around Jack’s. He smiled softly and both men looked to the Doctor who stood centered behind them.
“Wot!” Donna cried, her eyes sparkling playfully. “This looks like a bloody wedding! Are you getting married? Do we need confetti?”
The Doctor laughed with mischievous glee. Shaking his head, Ianto steeled himself and, still clutching Jack’s hands, opened the pocket watch.
A yellow light brightened the room as it whorled from the device and everyone flinched. Shading his eyes, Jack watched Ianto protectively. He looked possessed and for a brief moment Jack was terrified. Then the light faded away and Ianto beamed up at him.
“Jack,” he whispered and kissed him with the passion of a man who hadn’t seen his lover in years. Which is exactly what he was.
“What should we tell the others?”
“I was thinking a simple ‘Ianto’s a Time Lord’ would suffice.”
“Jack, you know them. They’ll have a thousand questions.”
“Right. And we’ll have to start calling you ‘Historian’ all the time. That would be…”
“Don’t be daft,” Ianto interrupted. “I’m keeping the name you gave me. You lot can’t seem to handle more than two syllables, and Owen’ll still call me Teaboy anyway, so what’s the point?” He grinned.
The Doctor watched the exchange with waning interest. It was late; Donna had long since given up on the boring logistical chatter and retreated to her bed. The Tardis had landed them on a quiet atmospherized moon used by a monastic sect of the Haclivens for meditation.
The three were sitting outside beneath the stars when Jack looked up. An unfamiliar ship passed overhead, burning brightly through the atmosphere as it left the surface of the moon.
“Kefbar Model T78X, Passenger class,” both Time Lords responded to his unspoken question. They grinned at each other as Jack threw his head back and laughed.
“Are you going back, then?” the Doctor asked quietly.
“It’s the best option. Torchwood needs Jack. I need Torchwood.” There was an unspoken piece to the equation somewhere in there, but neither would drag it out.
“But there’s so much…” The Doctor caught the look shared between the two and sighed, resigned. “Right, then. Off we go!”
“Give us a minute, Doc?”
The Doctor stood and ran a hand through his hair, his pained expression obvious if anyone had been paying attention to him. He shuffled back into the Tardis muttering something about the good old days in Gallifrey when young Time Lords understood their purpose.
Jack tugged Ianto closer and kissed him, his arms snaking around his body as if it were newly discovered. He rested a hand over Ianto’s chest, feeling the complementary double-beating pound beneath his palm.
“It’s good to have you back,” he whispered as he pulled away.
“Doesn’t appear that I was gone for very long.” Ianto smiled.
Jack laughed softly. “I tried to keep you away, but you were persistent.”
“Jack,” Ianto’s eyebrows knit together as he rested his head against Jack’s shoulder, shifting his body for comfort. “I’m so sorry. Everything I’ve put you through….”
Instead of responding, Jack wrapped his arms firmly around his lover and held him close. He kissed the top of his head gently. He would have spoken his forgiveness if there had been anything to forgive.
“C’mon,” he said quietly. “Let’s go home.”
Author:
sariagray Characters/Pairings: Jack/Ianto, Doctor (Ten), Donna, mentions of Owen a couple of times.
Rating: PG13
Word Count: ~3500
Spoilers: Takes place post-KKBB, pre-Exit Wounds. Sort of. Possible spoilers through end of Season Four of Doctor Who.
Warnings: Language, slight sexual implications, serious screwing with canon timelines (by "serious screwing" I mean that I blatantly ignored them sometimes), unbeta'd.
Disclaimer: Everything I own can fit in my room. Torchwood does not fit.
Author's Note: This is for
thebuttonontop's birthday. Penblwydd Hapus, hun! Okay, so her birthday is tomorrow, but she told me to post it today because we will be en route to Chicago tomorrow! (*cheers*) She gave me a list of things she wanted from which I could choose; I tried to cover all of them (and I think I only missed one!). The title is Welsh for “Historic.” So I’m told, anyway. But what do I know?Author's Note Part II: Happy Thanksgiving to all of you in the US! Enjoy your turkey and family
Hanesyddol
The date Jack had spent a good portion of his time planning was supposed to go off without a hitch. While he had expected some anxiety and hesitation, he had hoped that the previous months of perpetual shagging would have tempered that strange feeling of uncertainty.
Hopes aside, Ianto had been politely and uncomfortably quiet for most of the night.
Jack stared at him as the man fastidiously stirred his soup, letting it cool properly. The concentrated focus made it look as if he were trying to will it cold. Jack was fairly positive that the look in his eyes could cool it and with decent speed.
“Is everything all right?” he chanced.
“Hmm? Oh. Yes, it’s just a bit hot.”
Scowling, Jack leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. “Not the soup. You. Is everything all right with you?”
“Fine.” Ianto still hadn’t looked up, scrying for answers in the bowl.
“Let me rephrase that. Something’s bothering you. What is it?”
Ianto froze, his spoon in mid-stir.
There was a clink as the couple at the nearest table toasted one another with crystal champagne flutes. The sound paired with the practiced twinkling of impromptu piano playing. Someone laughed heartily over the low hum of conversation. Ianto remained silent and still, though he finally raised his head to meet Jack’s gaze.
Jack watched as the candle at the center of the table cast a glow of false warmth to their frigid table and created shadows in Ianto’s eyes. Or maybe that wasn’t the candles.
“Ianto,” he sighed again. “I can’t explain what happened while I was gone, but I can tell you that it made me realize I want to do this right. Talk to me. Please?”
Ianto let the spoon fall from his hand and looked Jack squarely in the eye. “I spoke to Gwen.”
“Oh?” Jack raised an eyebrow and studied him curiously.
“I’m just wondering if you also pulled Owen and Tosh aside to declare that you came back for them, as well. I can’t really imagine Owen taking it that well; he doesn’t seem the type.”
“Oh.”
Testing a small portion of his soup, Ianto deemed it to have reached a manageable temperature. Calmly, methodically, he swallowed a spoonful before looking back up at Jack.
“What do you want, Jack?”
Jack let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. “You. I thought I made that clear.”
“I thought so, too, until I heard otherwise. I know she has feelings for you. I’m fairly certain you reciprocate.”
Laughing a bit shakily, Jack shook his head. “I came back for her because she needs a hero. I came back for you because I do, too.”
Jack thought it a rather clever line and it bordered so closely on the truth that he was most certainly not expecting the amused laughter that came on its heels.
“What?” Jack demanded. “You don’t believe me?”
“Believe you? Yes. I believe that you need a hero. I also believe that you left us for him.”
Ianto thought it a rather clever line and was so sure it was the truth that he was most certainly not expecting the hurt, dejected look in Jack’s eyes.
“He is a hero. He isn’t mine, though. I – he says I’m…wrong.”
“About?” Ianto swallowed another spoonful of soup, his interest in this turn of events granting him a more casual freedom of movement.
“No, he thinks that my existence is wrong. That I’m unnatural. The whole not-staying-dead-and-possibly-living-forever bit.” Jack smiled and it wavered across his face, a flicker like a broken hologram. He ran his hand through his hair distractedly.
Ianto’s grip tensed, then relaxed and the spoon clattered into the bowl, shaking Jack from his misery just in time to catch a feral protective look flash in Ianto’s eyes.
“You aren’t wrong. You know that, don’t you? If I ever see him, I’ll –“ He searched his mind for something particularly torturous, but was interrupted by Jack’s chuckle.
“Told you I needed a hero.”
There was a pause of silence before they both laughed and a weight noticeably lifted. Their date progressively improved, though they never made it to the promised movie. They also never mentioned Gwen or the Doctor for the rest of the evening.
*****
“Fuck!” he cried two weeks later as Jack pushed him up against a filing cabinet.
While he wasn’t prone to swearing at work (Owen had that particular market cornered already, and did it well enough), Ianto was taken by surprise. He had been completely absorbed in perusing the thick stack of files for a rather particular form and hadn’t heard Jack sneak up.
Jack pressed their mouths together to silence the outburst and moved Ianto’s hands up over his head, holding him in place. Ianto let him for a moment, relishing the contact, and then jerked roughly out of his grasp.
Bent on being contrary, Jack countered his aggressive actions with an exaggerated pout. “You finished yet?”
Glancing pointedly at the files that Jack’s maneuver had caused to be knocked to the floor, pages strewn about like autumn leaves, Ianto shook his head firmly. He stepped away purposefully and adjusted his clothing with brisk, sharp movements.
“C’mon. It can wait. I bet I can persuade your boss to let you off early.”
“While your charming smile may disarm most, I doubt that you’d manage to persuade Her Majesty of anything,” he responded flatly as he set about retrieving the scattered pages.
Jack stepped back to lean against the table, his palms flat against the meticulously polished surface and his body displayed to its best advantage. He raised an eyebrow. “Outside the government, remember?”
“Yes, I know, and beyond the police. Clearly that’s worked well.”
“Hmm. And you’ll be done…when?”
“You have a distinct lack of patience for a man who can live forever,” Ianto muttered.
The air seemed to chill as the silence bore down heavily. Ianto debated whether to ignore it or meet it head on. Slowly he rose and turned to Jack. He was still leaning against the table and would look completely unchanged to the rest of the world. The only difference was the slight off-kilter slump of his shoulders as if they sustained the weight of the world.
“And you have too much patience for a man who can’t,” Jack pointed out, his voice almost imperceptibly tinged with grief and something like hesitation, as though he were trying to cover truth with a well-placed lie.
“Perhaps,” Ianto calmly agreed as he approached and rested his hand on Jack’s upper arm.
“That’s all? No promises? No wise words?”
“Nope. What’s the point? I’m going to die. We both know you’re going to outlive me no matter what happens.”
“Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
Ianto nodded. “I know. But at some point, you’ll move on.”
“I won’t. Not really. Move on, I mean.”
Ianto looked at him searchingly with mock concern. “Oh. This is bad if you’re getting sentimental.”
Jack nodded dramatically. “I need your coffee to survive.”
“You...!” he growled and punched Jack lightly in the arm.
Jack flashed him a smile, bright and gleaming and big. Then the grin retreated, dissolved by the acidity of serious revelations. “Ianto, I –“
“Either help me pick up these files or get out, Jack. The sooner I get them done, the sooner we can go ho – back to mine.”
“Files? Oh! I think I hear Owen calling for me!” Jack cocked his head as if to listen. “What is it, Owen? Janet’s in trouble?” He smirked at Ianto mischievously and rushed out the way he had come.
“You could’ve at least pretended to use your comm.!” Ianto called after him, shaking his head ruefully. “No respect for good performance anymore. Can’t even stay in character,” he muttered to himself as he bent to retrieve the rest of the papers.
*****
Jack was beginning to get worried. At least, he was calling it “worried.” It seemed to be an emotion somewhere straddling “bored” and “impatient” on its way to “frustrated beyond measure.” Surely Ianto didn’t need an hour to pick up some papers? He bit his lip. Okay, so maybe he was a little worried.
*****
He spread his collection of documents on the tabletop; they had all unsorted themselves in a most inconvenient way. Pulling up a chair, he sat himself in front of his daunting task. Jack was going to pay (which unfortunately meant that Jack was going to be rewarded).
Ianto picked up a form and glanced at it, placing it down neatly as the beginning of an alphabetized pile. He went to pick up another sheet, but it fluttered away from him. He looked at it curiously. Then others begin to flutter and he felt a draft. His pressed his palms against the tabletop and sensed a low humming vibration.
What was more bizarre, he heard a low humming vibration. There was something familiar about the noise, which sounded like wind steadily climbing to a crescendo, only deeper and raspier. Instinctively, he went to press his finger to his comm. to alert Jack when he realized just why it was familiar. No need to tell Jack anything, at least not yet. He had a promise to keep.
He stood as the blue box materialized, patiently waiting for the Time Lord to emerge. The door swung open and a head poked out. A hand reached up and adjusted the spectacles resting on his nose. The Doctor (Jack’s Doctor, Ianto reminded himself) squinted and his mouth parted in surprise.
He stepped out and, seeing Ianto, approached quickly with a grin and a particularly enthusiastic gait.
“Ah!” he cried happily. “You must be Ianto Jo-“
He was cut off abruptly by Ianto’s fist contacting squarely (the arc of the swing was profoundly beautiful) with his jaw.
“Oh, I like you!” cried a loud feminine voice from the door of the Tardis. “I’ve wanted to do that for ages!”
Ianto looked up as a woman (very ginger and beaming with the thrilled glee of a child come Christmas morning) approached.
“Why haven’t you?” Ianto inquired, readjusting his tie with casual grace.
“Never punch the driver,” she shrugged, still grinning broadly. She extended her hand by way of greeting. “Donna Noble.”
*****
“What was that for? I haven’t even met you yet.” The Doctor paused and glanced at Ianto suspiciously as he stood. “Er, I haven't, have I?”
“Nope,” Ianto responded from his chair.
“Well?” The Doctor rubbed his face and scowled at Donna who had let out a sharp bark of laughter.
“That was for Jack,” Ianto stated simply.
“Well, then go punch him! He probably deserves it.”
Ianto decided to change his tactic. “Why are you here? Need Jack to help you save the world again?”
“Actually, I’m here for you, it seems.” He looked back at the Tardis as if consulting her. “Yep. You.”
“What for?”
“He thinks you’re…important,” Donna interjected. “And he needs you to come with us.”
“Why? Where?”
“Just a short trip,” the Doctor assured. “Jack won’t even know you’re gone.”
“Like hell he won’t,” a determined voice rose from the shadows.
“Oh. Jack,” the Doctor acknowledged warily.
“Oh! I like him, too!” Donna exclaimed as she watched Jack step into the light. Ianto snorted.
Jack flashed his trademark grin in her direction and rounded on the Doctor again. “Kidnapping my employees now?”
The Doctor sighed. “I take it you’ll want to come, too, then. All right, everyone in.”
Donna’s eyes lit up and Jack nodded, stepping protectively to Ianto’s side. He squeezed his shoulder in reassurance and leaned down to press a kiss to his temple. Donna’s eyes widened.
“Oh, of course!” she muttered and retreated to the Tardis sulkily. The Doctor followed.
Gripping Ianto’s arm, Jack gently guided him to stand. Pressing their foreheads together, he smiled. It was genuine this time.
“C’mon. Now I get to be your hero.”
Ianto rolled his eyes, chuckled and kissed him quickly. “Too late. I already punched him.”
“You – you what?”
Ianto gave a slight shrug as the Doctor popped his head back out of the door to glare at them impatiently.
“I’ll explain later,” Ianto smirked proudly and tugged Jack towards the Tardis.
*****
If Ianto was surprised or uncertain or excited, he didn’t show it outwardly. He regarded the interior with an archivist’s eye for placing detail and it appeared as though he were mentally cataloging each feature. He ran a hand along the length a coral beam and felt the tingle of life beneath his fingers. He hummed appreciatively as the others watched.
Only Jack noticed the gleam in his eye, heard the awe in the slight change of rapid breathing. He smiled knowingly and turned to the Doctor, a casual pose masking his wary distrust.
“So, Doc. Where we going?”
The Doctor turned to Jack, keeping an eye on Ianto in an attempt to gauge his reaction. “We’re nipping back in time a handful of years. I want to see something and I need him to see it, too.”
“So the world isn’t ending?” Jack raised a highly suspicious eyebrow.
“It’s always ending,” Donna piped up good naturedly. “Who’s for tea?”
*****
They arrived in an empty field late at night. Ianto could tell that they were still in Cardiff as the area looked vaguely familiar, though he couldn’t quite place it. The thick grass underfoot was marked with dew and a light mist was barely visible as it hung low to the ground. The full moon glowed bright, somehow making the chill air feel colder. Jack wrapped an arm around Ianto and pulled him close as the Doctor’s eyes searched the vicinity.
“Right!” the Time Lord whispered harshly. “Hide behind those trees there, the lot of you. Can’t go crossing timelines!”
Jack looked at him, curiosity etching his features, but led Ianto to a small copse of trees and brush on the perimeter. Donna and the Doctor trailed closely behind.
“I’ve got to,” came Ianto’s voice from a distance.
Ianto himself froze and Jack, finally understanding, shot a hard scowl at the Doctor.
“No! He didn’t want it like this!”
“I’m sorry, Jack. But this has to happen.”
Ianto kept half an ear focused on the conversation around him. The rest of his attention was fixated on himself, walking with Jack into the clearing.
*****
Jack put a hand on Ianto’s shoulder to stop him.
“You don’t have to do this, you know.”
Ianto broke the contact and walked forward into the glade with determined strides.
“I’ve got to,” he responded, his clipped words full of intense sadness.
“No, you don’t. Stay with me. We can protect you. I’ll protect you.”
Stopping, he turned to face Jack, his eyes forming the apology his mouth couldn’t muster.
“It’s not as simple as that, Jack. And this won’t be forever. Just…just until it’s safe. You’re in danger, too, just by being with me.”
Jack grabbed him and kissed him, hard and full of need. Ianto placed a hand around Jack’s neck, returning the gesture with equal amounts of longing.
They pulled away slowly to reclaim their breath, panting in the cool air.
“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Jack whispered.
“I’m set up in London?” Ianto asked, his head resting on Jack’s shoulder, as Jack nodded. “And you’ve got the coral?” Jack nodded again and Ianto stepped back, retrieving the two objects he’d need from a black rucksack. “Guard this watch with your…lives.”
Ianto gave a little smile and placed the strange device on his head as he handed Jack the watch.
“Be careful,” Jack warned. “I –“
“I know, Jack,” Ianto interrupted, smiling dolefully. “Me, too.”
And then Ianto screamed.
*****
“It…it doesn’t make sense.”
They had returned to the Tardis and were drinking obligatory cups of tea at the Doctor’s insistence. It was strong and sweet, which was good for a shock, but Ianto might have been drinking tepid water for all he could taste it.
“You had to hide. Something was coming for you, but you wouldn’t tell me what. I think the threat’s long past now. But your Tardis isn’t ready yet,” Jack murmured with a small smile, his hand on Ianto’s shoulder acting as a lifeline.
“Do you have it? The pocket watch?” the Doctor asked anxiously.
Jack shifted his coat and indicated to the chain hanging from his waistcoat before he pointedly covered it with his coat again. The Doctor sighed.
“Right,” Donna said, exasperated. “So there’re more bloody Time Lords out there in hiding.” She paused and adopted a terrified countenance, turning quickly to face the Doctor. “He’s…he isn’t…the…?”
“No!” Jack growled out angrily. “He’s not.”
“Jack,” Ianto said, coming out of his thoughts slowly as realization punched him in the stomach. “You – it’s why you didn’t want me to work for you. Oh, God. Lisa! It must’ve…all that time…”
Leaning over, he placed a soft kiss to Ianto’s lips to silence him. “It’s fine now,” he whispered as he pulled away.
“If he’s not the Master, and that one’s the Doctor, who’s he, then?” Donna asked curiously.
“The Historian,” both the Doctor and Jack replied simultaneously, never tearing their eyes away from Ianto.
A stillness ensued. It wasn’t oppressive or awkward, simply weighty with thoughts that stretched languidly through time.
The Doctor cleared his throat and spoke gently. “Are you ready? The threat is long gone, I promise.”
Ianto nodded and made to stand, but was stopped in the process by Jack’s firm grip holding him in place.
“Are you sure?”
He stood and gave Jack a kiss, chaste and yet with lingering promise. He nodded again and Jack retrieved the pocket watch from his waistcoat.
“I always wondered what that was for,” Ianto muttered and smiled.
Jack grinned and held it out to him. They looked into each other’s eyes, the electricity in the connection sparking tangibly. Ianto reached over and folded his hands around Jack’s. He smiled softly and both men looked to the Doctor who stood centered behind them.
“Wot!” Donna cried, her eyes sparkling playfully. “This looks like a bloody wedding! Are you getting married? Do we need confetti?”
The Doctor laughed with mischievous glee. Shaking his head, Ianto steeled himself and, still clutching Jack’s hands, opened the pocket watch.
A yellow light brightened the room as it whorled from the device and everyone flinched. Shading his eyes, Jack watched Ianto protectively. He looked possessed and for a brief moment Jack was terrified. Then the light faded away and Ianto beamed up at him.
“Jack,” he whispered and kissed him with the passion of a man who hadn’t seen his lover in years. Which is exactly what he was.
*****
“What should we tell the others?”
“I was thinking a simple ‘Ianto’s a Time Lord’ would suffice.”
“Jack, you know them. They’ll have a thousand questions.”
“Right. And we’ll have to start calling you ‘Historian’ all the time. That would be…”
“Don’t be daft,” Ianto interrupted. “I’m keeping the name you gave me. You lot can’t seem to handle more than two syllables, and Owen’ll still call me Teaboy anyway, so what’s the point?” He grinned.
The Doctor watched the exchange with waning interest. It was late; Donna had long since given up on the boring logistical chatter and retreated to her bed. The Tardis had landed them on a quiet atmospherized moon used by a monastic sect of the Haclivens for meditation.
The three were sitting outside beneath the stars when Jack looked up. An unfamiliar ship passed overhead, burning brightly through the atmosphere as it left the surface of the moon.
“Kefbar Model T78X, Passenger class,” both Time Lords responded to his unspoken question. They grinned at each other as Jack threw his head back and laughed.
“Are you going back, then?” the Doctor asked quietly.
“It’s the best option. Torchwood needs Jack. I need Torchwood.” There was an unspoken piece to the equation somewhere in there, but neither would drag it out.
“But there’s so much…” The Doctor caught the look shared between the two and sighed, resigned. “Right, then. Off we go!”
“Give us a minute, Doc?”
The Doctor stood and ran a hand through his hair, his pained expression obvious if anyone had been paying attention to him. He shuffled back into the Tardis muttering something about the good old days in Gallifrey when young Time Lords understood their purpose.
Jack tugged Ianto closer and kissed him, his arms snaking around his body as if it were newly discovered. He rested a hand over Ianto’s chest, feeling the complementary double-beating pound beneath his palm.
“It’s good to have you back,” he whispered as he pulled away.
“Doesn’t appear that I was gone for very long.” Ianto smiled.
Jack laughed softly. “I tried to keep you away, but you were persistent.”
“Jack,” Ianto’s eyebrows knit together as he rested his head against Jack’s shoulder, shifting his body for comfort. “I’m so sorry. Everything I’ve put you through….”
Instead of responding, Jack wrapped his arms firmly around his lover and held him close. He kissed the top of his head gently. He would have spoken his forgiveness if there had been anything to forgive.
“C’mon,” he said quietly. “Let’s go home.”
End
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Date: 2010-11-25 11:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-26 01:57 am (UTC)