The Darkest Night Chapter 1
Dec. 7th, 2010 12:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
galadriel1010Title: The Darkest Night
Chapter Title: Chapter 1
Challenge/Fest: Ianto Big Bang
Rating: M
Dedication: Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mcparrot for the awesome beta work, and to xxholiclover and a_silver_story for the artses
Summary: Although the crisis with the 456 is over, Torchwood’s problems definitely aren’t. The government is meddling, Jack is pregnant and they don’t trust the team they’ve been assigned. When they cut loose from Torchwood, things get worse rather than better, and Ianto soon finds himself adrift from his loved ones and on the run, chasing down the chance that Steven’s death might not have been what it seemed.
Characters: Ianto, Jack and Alice, Steven, Agent Johnson
Contains: Pregnancy, violence, death, drug use, child in harm’s way, Ianto/OFC. COE compliant
Disclaimer: Torchwood and its environs, occurrences and persons belong to the BBC. The original characters have disowned me.
An easy peace settled over the street in the late morning now that the children had returned to school after the long summer holiday. A bus rumbled past down the road, disturbing a group of sparrows from a hedge and attracting the attention of a cat sunning itself on the low wall surrounding the park. Beyond the wall the grass was scattered with blossom that drifted from the shady cherry trees, dahlias nodded in the borders between rose bushes heavy with flower, and barely a ripple disturbed the surface of the lake between the water lilies.
The post van came down a side street and stopped just before the corner. Under the watchful eye of the cat on the wall, and accompanied now by the sharp barks of an unseen dog, the postman made his way up one garden path after another. When he got down to the street that ran along the edge of the park the cat jumped from its wall and went across the road to fuss for attention, and he stopped outside the gate to stroke it. Before he could enter, the front door had opened, and a young man emerged to blink in the bright sunlight. “Morning,” he called when he spotted the postman, coming down the path to meet him and collect his post. “Beautiful day.”
“It is that,” he agreed, selecting the items for delivery to this house. “Your Tybalt's got the right idea, sunning himself on that wall every day.”
“He’s got us right where he wants us,” the young man scoffed, collecting the post for Mr. I. Jones and Mr. J. Harkness of Lake Road East. “He'll come in to be fed and then go back to that wall until it goes dark. It's a hard life, isn't it, Monster?”
“I reckon they're aliens, you know? Come to Earth to enslave us millennia ago, and we've been in their thrall ever since.” He shifted his satchel with a grimace and waved to the twitching curtain in the next house. “Did you see that on the news this morning?”
“See what?” Ianto looked up from the post and frowned. “I've not even turned the coffee machine on today.”
“Oh, well apparently it's all true. Aliens, I mean,” he imparted, inflating his chest and raising his chin. “There's going to be a press conference of some sorts at ten. Torchwood stuff. Not that it'll come as news to anyone here, eh? We've known for years. Take care, Mr Jones. Better go make a coffee for your old man.”
“Yeah...” He waved the forgotten post and scooped Tybalt up from under his feet, hurrying back into the house. Inside, the furnishings showed the compromises between two very different schools of interior design. The original tiling had been preserved in the porch and around the fireplace in the living room, above which hung a television that took up the whole of the chimney breast. The fireplace was flanked by two deep leather and wood armchairs and faced by a matching sofa, and a tile and chrome coffee table next to the sofa was covered with classic car magazines and a holiday brochure.
He set Tybalt loose and hovered at the bottom of the stairs, but rather than go up or call up he hurried back into the living room, where the TV had stopped showing photographs and had tuned into the BBC's 24 hour news channel. The familiar breakfast presenter was reporting on the worries caused by rising gas prices, but Ianto's attention was fixed on the ticker tape at the bottom of the screen that read like something out of his nightmares. Any minute now he was going to wake up screaming.
Half an hour later he was still glued to the TV, fist clenched around the phone with his nails biting into his palm confirming that he was awake. Heavy footsteps, muffled by the thick carpet, clumped down the stairs and then padded into the kitchen. Tybalt leapt from the armchair to follow him and beg for another breakfast and Ianto twitched at the movement, his hand inching towards the remote and his protective instincts, kicking into overdrive, urging him to turn it off. In the end he left it, sinking down in his seat and glaring at the TV, caught in the juxtaposition between the personal idyll of Jack singing and cooking himself breakfast in the kitchen and the professional disaster unfolding on the news.
“I am having the strongest craving for coffee right now,” Jack told him as he entered, mouth half-full of bread. “I don't understand it.”
“That's not a craving,” he answered on auto-pilot, “that's just your caffeine addiction kicking in. Doctor says you're not to drink it, and who am I to argue?”
“First one, usually.” Jack dropped onto the sofa, swung his legs up so that his feet were in Ianto's lap and wriggled his toes. “What's up? Rising gas prices aren't...”
“Give it five minutes, it'll come around again,” he snapped. When Jack gave him a wounded look Ianto sighed and started rubbing his thumbs up the arches of Jack's feet. “Sorry, it's... oh, you'll understand.”
Jack sat up and leaned into Ianto, stuffing the last of his sandwich into his mouth and leaning across to put the plate on the table. Ianto could have been deaf and blind and he would have known the moment that the story returned to them, because Jack tensed next to him and spluttered. “What the hell?”
“That's what I said. No one's answering my calls, Gwen's had the police calling her all morning and can't get any answer out of Downing Street either. This isn't an accident or an oversight,” he growled.
“They know why we're not ready to go open,” Jack muttered, splaying a broad hand over his flat stomach. “Are they doing it on purpose, do you think?”
Ianto reached over and covered Jack's hand with his own. The presenter was doing the lead-up to the live press conference, and he couldn't bring himself to lie to Jack even to reassure him.
”And we're crossing live now to Thames House, the site of the terrible tragedy just last month, and now, we hope, the start of a truly new world.”
The image changed to a view of a room full of journalists and a long table, behind which sat the Defence Minister, Edward Constant; his head advisor on Torchwood and UNIT matters, Bridget Spears; a civil service spokesman they didn't recognise and a UNIT defector called Angela Pierce. Ianto felt Jack's hand tighten, and a moment later he realised that the room they were sitting in was the room where he had nearly died. “Over a hundred people,” he gritted out, “and a cheap point scoring opportunity.”
”The Torchwood Institute has been protecting Britain from extra-terrestrial threats for over one hundred years,” Constant explained to the gathered journalists and the wider audience watching on TV, “since it was founded by Queen Victoria. For most of that time its scope has been limited to minor outposts with low levels of activity, but in recent years the threat has grown to levels which can no longer be ignored and which it is no longer beneficial to keep a secret. I must stress at this point that the secrecy of the organisation was a defensive act in itself, which ensured the protection of powerful extraterrestrial organisations. The devastating losses suffered here at Thames House, however, are a clear sign that that protection is no longer sufficient, and therefore we are prepared to move forwards into the open. This will bring with it an increased risk of attack, but with increased visibility we also gain an increased ability to defend ourselves.
“Torchwood will continue to act from the current outpost in Cardiff, where the population is largely aware of their existence due to the work of the current team, and from a base here in London which will be a fast response unit covering the rest of the country.” He tidied the script in front of him and looked out over his audience. ”I'm sure you have a lot of questions, and I'll be happy to answer any. Some, however, will still fall under the purview of the Official Secrets Act.”
The camera panned over the audience and Ianto scoured the faces for one he knew, sagging back into the sofa when he found her. “Sarah Jane's there,” he explained when Jack looked around at him. “Turn it off; I can't listen to him any more.”
Silence descended and they both glared at the blank screen for a long moment. It was broken by the shrill scream of the phone, still clutched in Ianto's hand, and he answered it without thought. “Harkness-Jones, Ianto speaking.”
”Ianto, did you see...”
“Yes, we saw it.” He mouthed 'Gwen' at Jack and stood up to pace behind the sofa, leaving Jack leaning forwards with his elbows on his knees. “We just got fucked over.” From the corner of his eye he saw Jack flinch, and he paused to lay a hand on his shoulder. “Are you still watching it?”
”No, Rhys turned it off because I tried to throw my shoe through the TV. Was anyone we know there?”
“Sarah Jane was there,” he said with heartfelt relief. “She'll call us when it's finished and she's got as much as she can. Did you hear his 'due to the work of the current team'? Bastard.”
Gwen cursed down the line and he heard a soft thump from Gwen's arthritic sofa. ”What do we do now?”
He looked down at Jack, then closed his eyes and tipped his face back to the ceiling. “We wait for them to decide what to do with us. We'd better get off the line, in case someone calls.”
“Yeah, of course.” Gwen hesitated though. “Are you two okay?”
“We're fine.” He sighed and shrugged to himself. “Well, as fine as we can be. Look, why don't you come over?”
“Are you sure?”
Ianto could hear her scrambling around her living room, and he smiled at her eagerness. “Yep. Better than going to the office. Bring lunch with you,” he added.
“Okay. The usual?” A door slammed and Gwen's feet echoed down the stairs. “I'll see you soon.”
He rang off and stared at the phone in his hand. Jack was watching him, and he met his gaze with an equally worried look. “I'm going to call Samantha and get us a meeting with him tomorrow,” he said at last. “We'll go by train.”
Jack watched him with narrowed eyes. “Wait... you have Samantha on speed-dial?”
“Yep,” he held his hand up to stop Jack and listened to the phone ring. “I make friends easily. Samantha, it's Ianto. We need to see Constant tomorrow. Can you book us in without letting him know about it?” He waited for her to confirm it and agreed on a time. “Okay, two o'clock, then. We'll see you tomorrow.”
He flopped onto the sofa again and turned the news back on whilst Jack booked them train tickets. The question session was still ongoing, but the rolling news had moved on and he'd have to press the red button to watch more of it. Jack rested a hand on his leg and squeezed. “It'll be alright,” he promised. “Pierce will take over London, we'll sever all contact and go back below the radar. And if that fails, we'll take a transfer to the Bermuda monitoring station.”
Ianto chuckled and leaned his head against Jack's. “We have plenty of options,” he agreed. “We have to plan for three, though.”
“Let's focus on tomorrow,” Jack said after a moment, but his voice was lighter. “Everything else can happen after.”
X~X~X~X
Ianto's phone buzzed as soon as they got out of the station onto street level, informing him of arriving messages. He checked them as they walked, and relied on Jack to steer them through the heavy foot traffic along the embankment. The brief period on the underground without signal had been a respite from an unending stream of calls and emails that had begun at the end of the press conference the day before. At first it had been their friends calling them to ask what was going on, if they were alright, if they’d seen it, was there anything they could do? By the time they unplugged the phone and went to bed, though, the media had got hold of their number and were ‘requesting’ interviews and comments whilst already running intrusive stories about their private lives.
A policeman waved them into the Ministry of Defence’s main building on Whitehall and he realised that they’d walked farther than he thought. Jack was putting his ID away, and he gave Ianto a tired smile as they climbed the short marble staircase into the foyer. “Anything interesting?”
“Not really.” He let Jack precede him to the desk and hovered behind him.
“Hi,” Jack glanced over his shoulder at Ianto and he nodded, confirming that the secretary was new. “We have an appointment with Constant.”
“Right, sir…” Her fingers rattled over the keyboard and she frowned. “I’m sorry, it’s not on the… right, yes, I’ll just call up and tell him you’re here.” Once more, Jack’s expression stopped her in her tracks and she lifted her hand from the phone handset. “Second door on the left down the corridor,” she finished in a small voice.
Jack nodded and followed her directions with Ianto close behind him as always. His coat billowed as he pushed the double doors open and strode into the room. Whilst he sat down, uninvited, in the seat across the desk from Constant, Ianto closed the doors securely and took up a position next to them, leaning on the wall with his hands tucked into his pockets. Apart from a short glance up when they burst into the room, Constant kept his eyes on his work and carried on as he had been doing, letting the harsh clatter of his keyboard be the only thing to break the stalemate.
They glanced at each other once more and then Jack reached across and pulled the power cable out of the back of the monitor. He waved it at Constant and held it out of reach. “It’s only the monitor,” he told him cheerfully, “so you can get back to work as soon as we’ve gone. It’s rude to ignore your guests, though. How about some coffee? Ianto?”
“That would be nice,” he agreed. “Or brandy? It’s been a Hell of a day.”
Constant folded his hands in front of him on the desk and ignored Ianto. “It’s also rude to enter someone’s office uninvited, but I shouldn’t have expected you to pay heed to that, Harkness.”
“Well, we did book an appointment.” Jack held his hand to his mouth in mock shock. “Oh, but we didn’t pass the message on, did we? Oh well, we’re here now, so no harm done.” He swung his feet up onto the desk and kept swinging the power lead. “That was some press conference yesterday; I liked your injured offence and earnestness in particular. With acting talent like that you’re wasted in government.”
Ianto found a bottle of port in the drinks cabinet and poured two small glasses out, approaching the desk to hand one to Jack. “It brought to mind Jennifer Anniston and Gerard Butler in the Bounty Hunter.”
Constant raised an eyebrow, looking bewildered. “More Gerard Butler, I hope.”
“Nope.” He sipped at the port and raised the glass in a salute. “This is an excellent vintage. I must make a note of it.”
“It was a gift,” Constant said, lacing the words with polite venom, “from my wife on my appointment to office.”
“Well, please pass my compliments to your wife, then.”
“What do you want?” He leaned back in his chair and looked at both of them. “Yesterday’s press conference was nothing to do with you; it was about London and the organisation as a whole, not individual locations.”
“We did watch it,” Jack told him, sneering. “We got your messages loud and clear. Oh, and whilst we’re at it, who leaked our home number to the press.”
Constant’s hands fluttered across the desk and came to rest in his lap again. “I don’t know, but I assure you that I’ll find out. Such an invasion of privacy should never have happened, and we will do everything to minimise the consequences for you, of course.”
“Of course,” Jack mimicked. “Why did you choose yesterday to go public? We haven’t finished discussing what’s going to happen yet. Unless that was something else that happened without us.”
“As I said, the details of the relaunch in London are fully under control and something you don’t need to worry about. Cardiff is your jurisdiction and will remain so.” He smiled and spread his hands. “But Torchwood must move forwards, and I hope that by focussing on London we will give you the space, opportunity and funding to redevelop the Cardiff facilities.”
“You don’t know the first thing about Torchwood,” Jack snapped. “And that conference was not about Torchwood. It was about an entirely new organisation with the Torchwood name slapped on it and with you in charge.”
“Change happens…”
“We made our position perfectly clear.” Jack rose from his chair and slammed his hands down on the desk, leaning forwards with his palms planted on their side of Constant’s hands and towering over him. “We’re not ready for the public to know about us, and now we might never be ready.”
“Captain Harkness, please calm down.” Constant sighed and leaned back out of Jack’s reach, flicking a glance down Jack’s body to his flat abdomen. “I think that your hormones are clouding your judgement somewhat. You know that personal concerns can’t stand in the way of the country’s safety .”
Jack bristled but Ianto answered for him, stamping down on his own anger. “This is about more than us and you know it. All three surviving Torchwood operatives are preparing for unexpected parenthood and therefore in no position to train replacements, and I didn’t hear you mentioning the fact that Torchwood is currently just me and the car because an as-yet unidentified government organisation who you should but apparently don’t have control of destroyed our base to stop us doing our jobs during the last crisis. Maybe you’ll let us know about the next press conference in advance and we can raise the issue?”
“Our investigation is continuing, and it would have been unwise to comment on the on-going investigation when it would have lost us any element of surprise we may have.” Constant’s tongue darted out like a snake’s and flicked across his lips. “As to your limited man power, Sergeant Pierce will report to Cardiff on Monday with a team to support you. She will be your second in command, Harkness, and you can train her up to cover your maternity leave.”
“Ianto is my second in command.” Jack looked over his shoulder at Ianto and fixed him with a glare that dared him to disagree, something he had no intention of doing. “I wouldn’t trust anyone else to do it, and certainly not someone with no experience of the job.”
“Well you’ll have to get used to it.” Constant straightened his tie and glared at Jack’s hands. “Sergeant Pierce will report to Cardiff’s hub on Monday with her team and that is the end of it. I am fed up with your stalling, and Cardiff needs better. You’d better get over your issues quickly, because Torchwood will move forwards with or without you.”
“Who the hell do you think you are?” Jack exploded. “How dare you?”
“Captain Harkness, I am your employer. Since the Thames House Ordinance, Torchwood answers to this department, and you would be wise to remember that. Look, I’ve consulted you as much as I could, and your experience and input has been invaluable, but there comes a point where we have to move forwards, not be scared of the future.” He sighed and stood up. “I understand that this is a trying time for you, and all I’m doing is trying to make the change-over as easy for you as possible. Angela will be with you on Monday, and then the risk to Mr Jones and to your baby will be much less and maybe you’ll be able to think about things rationally.”
Jack balled his fists and rested the knuckles on the desk top. “Torchwood doesn’t do weekends. Tell her we expect her at work tomorrow morning.”
He swept out before Constant could say anything, and Ianto stepped closer to the desk. “If you send the files on the new recruits across to us I should be able to get them into the system and get them access to at least the archives tonight. Of course, I can’t promise anything, but it’ll be a start.”
“You could just tell him you need more time,” Constant suggested, not deigning to look up at Ianto.
“Not at all. I agree with him, we need them there as soon as possible so that they can start covering for Jack and Gwen. Once they arrive Gwen can finish setting their accounts up, but we’ll need at least a couple of them to be able to get onto the computer system tomorrow morning.” He smiled mildly and turned for the door. “Thanks for the port, Edward. Hopefully we won’t see you again for a long time.”
The door swung shut behind him with a satisfying thump, and he looked up and down the corridor for Jack. A harried looking aide came scurrying down the corridor towards him, clutching a lever-arch folder like a shield in front of him and casting glances over his shoulder, and Ianto guessed that Jack was the reason for his expression. He eventually found him in a vacant office, sitting on the edge of the desk and studying the empty bookcase. Ianto sat next to him, resting his hand between them so that their little fingers touched. “There’s always Bermuda,” he suggested.
Jack laughed and shifted his little finger over so that it hooked over Ianto’s. “No. Not yet. Not until we know that there’s someone in Cardiff that we can trust.” He sighed and tipped his head back. “I’ve looked after that city for too long. Gone native.”
“Could be worse.” Ianto bumped his shoulder against Jack’s and got to his feet. “We’ve got a while before the train. Do you want to look some more people up?”
He considered it and then shook his head, getting up to join Ianto so they could leave. “No. Let’s get lunch and charge it to Constant. I’m in the mood for some petty bureaucracy.”
“I’ve been a good influence on you,” Ianto commented, stopping at the desk to write a note for Constant’s secretary and another for the secretary on the main desk informing them both of the lunch bill that would cross their desks. “We owe Samantha at least dinner for that one, by the way.”
“Of course.” Jack offered his arm and they strolled out into the sunshine again, breaking apart almost immediately to navigate the crowd. A moment later, though, Ianto felt Jack take his hand, and he tightened his grip in response .
X~X~X~X
The next morning dawned cloudy, and they hurried in to work far earlier than they normally would have, thanks to Jack’s brash demands. After they got back to Cardiff they had spent a few hours setting up just enough details on the systems to make it look like they’d made an effort and then set about changing all the passwords, entry codes and database access protocols. Half an hour before they’d instructed the team to arrive, the proximity alarms on the car park went off and Jack switched on the CCTV. Ianto hurried across to join him, and they watched the new arrivals scouting out the area and even placing a couple of bugs around the car park. They glanced at each other and Ianto flicked an eyebrow in acknowledgement.
They watched the team come closer to the main door. Once they were in sight of the main cameras, Ianto went to wait by the door. He watched Jack, who watched the CCTV, and at Jack’s signal he opened the door and stepped back to let the team in. Angela Pierce brushed past him after a momentary hesitation with barely a glance, but the others lingered longer in the doorway and looked him over, distaste or sincere curiosity written across their features. “Come in,” he said as they swanned past him. “We're just getting your details entered into the computer system so that we can begin – we weren't expecting you this early, otherwise we'd be ready.” By the time he finished he was already talking to himself, so he closed the door and locked it again before he followed them over to the office of the warehouse.
When he got there Jack was nose-to-nose with Pierce, ordering her back out into the main space and holding Ianto's chair under the desk, preventing her from pulling it out and sitting down. They looked around when he entered, Jack with simple acknowledgement and Pierce with clear animosity. “Jones, you're going to have to move your things out onto one of the other desks,” she instructed. “I'm moving into this office with Captain Harkness.”
“You're very antagonistic, considering that this is your first day in the job, I'm higher up the chain of command than you are, and I have a jar of Retcon in my pocket.” He came around the desk and smiled when Jack pulled his chair out for him. “So I suggest you get settled in at your desk in the main office. Breakfast will be delivered at just before eight, and by then Gwen should be here and we'll be ready to give you the orientation.”
“We were prepared to give you a chance,” Jack told her, returning to his own desk. “And you blew it. Ianto is my second in command, and when I go on paternity leave he will be first in command. Deal with it.”
She snapped her mouth shut and stormed out, slamming the door behind her. At his desk, Ianto reached for his keyboard and brought up the CCTV from the main room. “They're mercenaries,” he growled whilst they gathered in a huddle between the desks. “There's too many of them for us to deal with as well. What are we going to do?”
“I don't know.” Jack tried to smile at him and suggested, “We could just leave.”
“No we couldn't.” The group on his screen were gesticulating towards the office, and one threw himself into a chair and drew his gun to check it. “They brought their own weapons. You don't think...”
“No. We'd be dead if that's what they wanted,” Jack said. “We'll confiscate the weapons and lock them up. Preferably at the bottom of the Bay. Set up a rota so we've only got three of them at a time, put Pierce on a swinging shift to keep her on edge and off her game, and restrict their archive access.” He tightened his hand into a fist and stared at the wall. “We'll weather this somehow.”
“And if we can't?” Ianto couldn't look at him. “What if this is too big for us ?”
“Hey, don't think like that.” Jack got up and came around to squeeze Ianto's shoulders. “We are Torchwood. Nothing can stop that.”
“Not reassuring,” he teased, reaching up to cover one of Jack's hands with his own. “You're right though. It's early, I'm just worrying unnecessarily.”
“You are.” Jack failed to sound like he believed himself. “Let's get this story rolling.”
Gwen arrived a few minutes later, breaking up the huddle in the main office. She threw her lightweight coat onto the stand and introduced herself to the new team, settled behind her desk with her feet on its surface. They relaxed around her and a few of them started chatting with her, but Angela kept apart from them with two others, fixing her glare on Gwen and occasionally flicking glances at the closed door. Ianto made a note of Pierce's apparent allies and began to set them on separate shifts on the rota, but he was disturbed by the arrival of breakfast.
He'd arranged for their favoured bakery to deliver a selection platter of their sweet pastries and a stack of bacon sandwiches, and he went out to collect them from the van. When he returned, Gwen had adopted her position by the presentation board with the new arrivals at the conference table in front of her, and Jack was standing right at the back, trying not to laugh and holding onto the stack of orientation folders. Ianto set the trays down on the table, retrieved the bags that held his, Jack's and Gwen's specific orders and, despite his irritation, kept a close eye on the team's selections for future reference. Gwen accepted her breakfast gratefully and put down the pen that she'd been gesturing with. “Breakfast orders are taken the night before,” she told the new team members. “Don't forget or you'll go without.”
“Ianto's the man to tell what you want for breakfast,” Jack told them, making them all crane around to see him. “He's the one who deals with all deliveries from food to archived materials, the one in charge of the computer system and the archives, the one who keeps the vehicles ticking over and, as if that weren't enough, the one who pays your wages.” He looked over at Ianto and gave him a genuine smile. “Whatever you need, you probably need Ianto. Come to him first, because if you come to Gwen or me we'll probably just point you in his direction.”
“I do my best.” He returned Jack's smile and nodded at the team. “I'm Jack's second in command, and the primary administrator. Everything comes through me, so if your reports aren't on time you won't leave work until they're done, because I haven't got time to deal with them.” Several of them sat up straighter, and he smiled in acknowledgement. “I know it's boring and the last thing anyone wants to do at the end of a long day, but it needs doing and no one's going to do it for you.”
“It really is important,” Gwen agreed. “We don't run on paperwork but it keeps the budget coming, so if you want to get paid you get your reports in.”
“Everything needs to be double printed and filed electronically as well.” He eyed them and decided to risk showing some of their hand. “Downing Street have been a lot pissier about us keeping our archive safely since they blew us up.”
Some of the recruits looked surprised, and Pierce did a reasonable job of pretending. One of the new team, a former gang member from Bradford with a criminal record not far different from Ianto's, stuttered over asking, “They blew... it was the government?”
“Yes, and we still don't know why,” Jack told him, daring Sergeant Pierce to say something. “They probably won't do it again, not now they got through the legislation they wanted. The government wants you here because they think they own you. Now there's not much we can do about that, apart from make the best of it. Torchwood is a job for life. It is a job that claims lives. If you manage five years you're doing well, and if you manage ten you're a miracle. You do what I tell you when I tell you and your life expectancy improves; but if you think that you know better than me you walk out that door now, because, whilst I don't care about you putting yourself in danger, I care about this city and I will not see it put in danger by egos.”
Ianto took the folders from him and started passing them out. “These folders contain everything you need to know: your pass codes, archival procedures, evacuation procedures, historical activity records, maps of Cardiff... read it all and learn it. We don't do exams, but we will test you every single day until we know we can rely on you. Understand?” There was a chorus of agreement, and he stepped back. “Good. Now enjoy your breakfast and get settled in. If you need anything you can find me in our office.”
He followed Jack back into the office and went straight to the coffee machine to put on enough for the whole team. Behind him, Jack paced with short, quick steps, coming to a stop behind Ianto, where he rested his hands on Ianto's hips. “Do you think they'll do?”
“I don't know,” he admitted. “Some of them could be alright, but it depends on whether they're loyal to Pierce or to Britain. Or to themselves. We'll win over the last two, but if they're loyal to her and Constant then we're... screwed.”
Jack wrapped his arms around Ianto fully and squeezed him. “I'm charming enough to win anyone over,” he insisted with false bonhomie. “It'll be fine. Now get the masses their coffee and eat your breakfast before it goes cold.”
X~X~X~X
The month end came two weeks after the team arrived, and Ianto found himself buried under even more paperwork than usual. He yawned hugely, too tired even to think about covering it. He was safe from Jack seeing him, settled on the sofa in the main office with the final version of the monthly finance report, but Asim spotted him and stood up to holler, “Boss, take Ianto home! He’s nearly asleep already.”
He glared at Asim and snuggled deeper into the sofa. “I’m fine, Jack.” He didn’t need to look up to know that Jack would have come when Asim called him. “I just need to finish this…”
“No you don’t.” Jack snatched it off him and Ianto let his hands fall to his lap, eyes closing with frustrated exhaustion. “It can go to Constant like that. Let him figure it out.” He sat down on the sofa next to Ianto and rubbed his hand over his back. “Hey, let’s get you home.”
“Yeah…” He blinked his eyes open again and looked around as if for the first time. “Let me get my things, and I’ll be ready to go.”
“Let me,” Jack insisted. “You stay here, I’ll get the things, and then we’ll pour you into bed.”
He chuckled and forced his eyes to stay open to watch Jack go, then levered himself off the sofa and meandered over to Asim’s desk. They had few friends in the new team and fewer people they felt they could trust, but Asim had been the first to make it onto both lists. He had a quick wit, less dry than Ianto’s but nowhere near as bawdy as either of them either, scattered brightly coloured pens across his desk, locked himself in the bathroom to pray, and was in a happy arranged marriage with a primary school teacher. He cared about what he saw and the people they helped and kept the team that Jack had assigned him to lead organised and looked after. Ianto plonked himself on the edge of his desk and stole a Skittle from the jar next to the monitor. “Are you going to be alright without us?”
“My sweets will be safer.” He paused and looked up at Ianto, dark eyes narrowing. “Are you taking a couple of days off or something?”
“Yeah,” he said, although he wasn’t sure yet where they were going. “I’m exhausted, and Jack needs to slow down for the baby. Just a few days. The monitor’s predicting quiet, we trust you… you’re in charge whilst we’re gone.”
“Really?” He sat back and glanced at the empty desk against the wall, where Pierce worked with her back to the room and a mirror propped up on the desk in front of her. “But what about Ms. Pierce?” Ianto raised an eloquent eyebrow and Asim grinned back at him. “Gotcha. Enjoy your break, then.”
“We will. Look after them for us.” He pushed off the desk, grabbing another Skittle on his way, and followed Jack into the office. Jack was at his own desk, finishing off on clearing out his email inbox, and looked up when Ianto closed the door. “We’re getting out of here,” he said without preamble. “I’m tired of looking over my shoulder all the time, I’m tired of not being able to eat or sleep for worrying, and I’m tired of fucking Pierce and her superiority complex.” He slammed his desk drawer open, grabbed a bag and started collecting his personal effects and everything he thought he might need .
Jack’s hands landed on his shoulders, tender and gentle, and he pulled Ianto back against him. “Hey,” he shushed him until Ianto stopped struggling. “You’re exhausted. Maybe we should take a couple of days, get ourselves together. You’ll feel better then .”
He sighed and pulled out of Jack’s hands. “No I won’t.” He put the last things in his bag and set about locking down his computer. “We’d still have to come back to work. Come back here… It’s not the same any more, Jack.”
“I know.” Jack went to his own desk and did the same as Ianto, emptying his bottom drawer into his coat pockets. Neither of them had much left to keep at work after the Hub had been destroyed, but he still hoped that the excavation teams would find something when they got down to Jack’s bunker. It should have been safe, but there were no guarantees. Jack’s voice broke through his musings, startling him back into the new, sterile office. “Ianto, you’re asleep on your feet. You should have said something hours ago.”
“I’m used to being able to sleep at work,” he apologised . “And I’ll sleep better tonight.”
“Am I supposed to believe that?” Jack took the bag from him and guided him out with a hand on his hip. “Night guys. Asim, you’re…”
“Yeah, Ianto told me.” He waved to them and put down what he was doing. “Have a good break. You both look like you need it.”
“You say the nicest things,” Jack drawled. “Okay kids, play nicely for Uncle Nazir whilst we’re gone. Do your homework, get to bed on time and eat your greens.”
“You sound like my nan,” Ben muttered into his computer. “Have a good weekend. In the middle of the week.”
Ianto grabbed Jack’s hand and dragged him out into the cold night before he could get into another discussion about semantics. The weather had turned in the last fortnight, and the nights were now damp and chilly, with mist drifting in off the Bay to blanket the streets. They walked to the car in silence and Ianto got into the passenger seat without argument, leaning his head against the headrest and closing his eyes. “I’m going straight to bed when we get in,” he told the darkness. “And in the morning I’m going to have a long, hot bath and a fry-up.”
“And then?” Jack’s hand rested on his leg, warm through the fabric of his suit trousers. “What are you going to do after that?”
He opened one eye and looked up at where the bug was concealed in the visor. “I’m going to take you to bed and make love to you very, very slowly, until you’re screaming at me to do something.”
“That sounds good.” Jack’s voice was suddenly strained, but rolling with warm humour. “We could do that in the bath.”
“Nope. Quick and dirty in the bath. Water and bubbles all over the floor for me to mop up whilst you do breakfast.” He growled at the ceiling. “Weevils. Weevils and hoixes and sewers.”
“Way to kill the mood, Ianto…” Jack’s hand slid up Ianto’s thigh and Ianto pushed it away. “Good point. Want me to pick up something hot and chocolatey before we get home?”
He shook his head and let his eyes close again. “Just get me home.”
X~X~X~X
Cold air woke him up, and he blinked up into Jack’s face, leaning over him through the open car door. “We’re home,” Jack told him, “and the nice doctor tells me I’m not supposed to carry anything heavy anymore.”
“I wouldn’t trust you to carry me without nutting me on the doorframe, anyway.” He groaned as he levered himself from the car and arched his back. “The bed is made, right? Right…” Jack followed him into the house and up the stairs, and went into the bathroom whilst Ianto undressed and shifted the cat off the pillow. He joined Jack for just long enough to brush his team, wrapping one arm around his waist and leaning against him, and then wove back to the bed, moved Tybalt off the pillow again, and slid under the covers .
As tired as he was, now that he was in bed his mind just wouldn’t stop. He knew everything that could go wrong with this, every reason it was a bad idea, but he could see no other choice. When Jack got into bed on the other side, Ianto immediately slid over to him and tucked himself into the crook of Jack’s arm, wrapping an arm around him and curling close. Branches rattled against the window, and he shivered despite the heat Jack was giving out. “It’ll be okay,” Jack promised. “We’ll be okay. We’ll go to the farm for a bit, enjoy the space and the quiet, and then we can decide what we’re going to do from there.”
“I love you.” He closed his eyes tightly and tightened his grip on Jack. “Maybe you’re right,” he conceded, knowing he wasn’t. “Maybe we just need a bit of space…”
Jack’s lips pressed against his forehead, and he finally let himself relax. He was aware of Jack murmuring, but it was nothing more than a noise as he finally relaxed into the sleep he so badly needed.
X~X~X~X
Ianto waited in the window seat, balancing a notepad on his lap with a half-finished shopping list scrawled untidily across it and watching cars going past. He peered at every vehicle, scanned the park beyond and studied the bushes whenever they twitched. The gentle tick-tock of the grandfather clock in the hall chimed against his already fraught nerves, and his skin grew clammy with cold sweat. When the familiar dark blue of their Jaguar estate came into view and pulled up in front of the house, he still couldn’t relax until Jack got out and he saw for himself that he was home. He wiped his hands off on his trousers and dropped the shopping list on the window seat so that he could help Jack bring in the boxes he’d returned with. “Next time,” he said as he jogged down the path, “I’m going with you.”
“Why?” Jack looked him up and down and shook his head. “Ianto, you’re paranoid.”
“It’s not paranoia if they’re actually out to get you.” He clicked his tongue at Tybalt and lifted him up into the box one-handed to bring him into the house. “What have you got for us, anyway?”
They set the boxes down on the kitchen table, and Jack started emptying them, explaining as he did so. “I know we’re not planning on going for long, but just in case… I got these ready when you were still in hospital, once we started preparing for reopening Torchwood. Officially they’re in the Hub, and they’re on the inventory lists but not on a tracker record. I stashed them at the empty flat – speaking of which, if we get someone in to do the work on it and give them one of our accounts, they’ll probably skip the country and lead Constant and Pierce on a bit of a wild-goose chase.”
“Remind me who’s paranoid again?” Ianto looked up at him and smiled. “Good thinking. I’ll do some casual browsing for distant destinations this evening. And drag.”
“Drag?”
“Well, if we were to end up in some distant corner of Africa one of us would have to be a woman, and it might as well be the pregnant one.” He gestured into the boxes and headed back to the window. “I’ll just get the notebook.”
He scooped the notebook up from where it had fallen and fished the pen out from under the chair. When he straightened up he took a last glance out of the window and froze at the sight of a car pulling to a halt across the road. It stayed there for a while and the driver scanned the doors down the street, then leaned over to fiddle with something on the dashboard and, finally, moved on. “Just looking for an address,” Ianto told himself. “It’s these streets; they all have the same name.”
“What was that?” Ianto spun around to face Jack, who was in the doorway, passing a mobile phone from hand to hand. “You said something, but I didn’t hear it.”
“Talking to myself,” he assured him, darting a glance outside again. “Just… paranoid.”
Jack came up behind him and rested a hand on his waist. “We’ll get out of here soon,” he promised, lips pressed against the back of his neck. “Come see what I’ve brought for us, then we’ll go out for dinner, make like everything’s normal, pick up some supplies at Tesco on the way home, and we’ll leave before dawn.”
“Yeah.” He smiled back at Jack and turned to follow him back into the kitchen. “What shiny have you got for me, then?”
“Stack of tablets. I got a dozen of the TufTab and kept three of them. I know you hate Vista, but it’s droppable, not GPS activated and also not SIM activated, so it’s wifi or nothing.” He tapped the black cases underneath. “And I saved us two of the field kits. Fully kitted out with bugs, substance tester, wire tapping, the works. All of them are running TOR, as well.”
“Excellent.” He jotted them down and looked into the box. “Phones?”
“Got you a BlackBerry from a second hand shop, because you’re a slave to your brands, but you can have a selection of SIM cards to go with it and it’s not on the records. Also got a load of basic model phones. Two sets of travel adaptors with a variety of ends to charge up everything we have here.” He stacked those on top of the cases and waited whilst Ianto jotted them all down. “That’s the first box. Over here we have the under-the-counter stuff. Magnetic lock-pick device, secure GPS device and trackers, guns, small-scale explosives…”
“You brought those into the kitchen!”
“Relax,” Jack scoffed. “They’re each in an individual containment box, perfectly safe.”
“You said that about sex without a condom.” He glanced at Jack’s stomach and smiled when he spread a hand across it. “And I’m not saying it was a bad thing, but you were clearly wrong.”
“I don’t know why I put up with you.” Jack put the weapons back in the box and hefted it onto his hip. “Let’s get these packed up nice and hidden, and you can decide what we’re taking out of the wardrobe. Not everything,” he warned. “We’ve got to make it look like we’re coming back if anyone comes to check , just in case they decide to send out a search party.”
Ianto shivered at the idea and glanced over his shoulder once more. The kitchen was peaceful, as it should be, and he followed Jack up the stairs to their bedroom, where Jack already had the suitcases out from the airing cupboard and was unpacking the bags from them. “How many bags are we taking, then?”
“Put the cases and a hold-all in the boot, two more hold-alls on the back seat,” Jack told him. “As long as no one sees us putting the stuff in the boot it’ll look like we’re only taking the hold-alls.”
“Okay.” He stood with his hands on his hips and nodded at the bed. “Weapons in the reinforced case, please. I’ll start on the clothes. We can put the laptops in the in-car bags as well.”
They packed in comfortable silence, broken occasionally by quiet murmurs of questions or requests. Ianto left most of his suits where they were, packing only the ones that crumpled least, and filled the bags instead with jeans and T-shirts, jumpers and jogging bottoms, comfortable clothes suited to colder weather. He filled the two bags with clothes, finishing in time to help Jack choose books and DVDs to go in the cases with the explosives. “There’s not much left to pack,” he pointed out as he added a couple of Pratchett books to one of the cases. “Just the stuff we’ll need overnight and the cat. We can get this stuff into the car and then go out.”
Jack frowned and looked over at the pillow. “We’re taking the cat?”
“Well I’m not leaving him behind.” Ianto gathered Tybalt up and cradled him in his arms. “He’d miss us, wouldn’t you, baby?”
“Ianto…” Jack sat next to him and rested his hand on his leg. Ianto tensed up against him and tried to pull away. “Ianto, we can’t uproot him and take him on the run with us.”
“We’re not going on the run!” He tightened his hold on Tybalt and buried his fingers in his thick fur. “I can’t leave him. If I leave him… it would mean that we’re not coming back, and that everything we have now… Besides, I’d only worry, and wouldn’t it be better to uproot him than to pass him off to someone he doesn’t know…”
“I know.” Jack pulled them both closer and started stroking Tybalt’s tail. “We’ll take him. He’s family; how could I even suggest it?”
Ianto laughed and leaned against Jack, still feeling off-kilter. “I think he’s getting stroppy.”
“I think you’re getting stroppy.” Jack got up and fastened the last case up, then turned back and held his hand out to Ianto. “Dinner. In the morning we’ll call Constant and tell him we’re not coming back and then we’ll go to a little place I know in the middle of nowhere to weather the winter. Sound good?”
“Sounds good.” He put his hand in Jack’s and let Jack pull him to his feet and out of the room. Behind them, Tybalt curled into a ball on top of one of the bags, and his tail twitched whilst he watched them leave.
X~X~X~X
The narrow, rough track between lichen-clad stone walls opened out into the corner of a farmyard. One side of the yard was flanked by stone-built outbuildings of varying sizes, one of which looked to have been converted to accommodation, as it had double glazing and empty hanging baskets over the door. Across from the outbuildings was a barn and, separated from it by a narrow passageway, a whitewashed farmhouse with a shed abutting it on the opposite side to the barn. Ianto got out of the car and closed the door, turning in the centre of the yard to look around it. “Okay, I wasn’t expecting this.”
Jack folded his arms on top of the car and grinned at him. “Do you like it?”
He gave Jack a look and wandered to the end of the yard to lean on the fence. Fields stretched away from the farm, sloping down behind the house towards a wooded stream and up behind the outbuildings to the brow of the hill. A red kite wheeled over the far hillside and Ianto’s spirits soared with it. Behind him, Jack’s feet crunched over the gravel, and Ianto turned to look at him. “It’s beautiful,” he said. “There must be no-one around for miles.”
“It’s pretty remote,” Jack agreed. He settled against Ianto’s side with his arms on the wall and Ianto’s arm around his waist. “It was a working farm until last year, but my tenants retired and I’ve not found anyone wanting to take it on yet. No one wants to get into farming anymore; not out here, anyway.”
Ianto looked around at the stunning scenery, bewildered. “Why?”
Jack laughed and leaned into him. “See how you feel when we’ve been here a while. For now, let’s get the stuff into the house and I’ll give you the tour.” He pushed off the wall and reached for Ianto’s hand. “The building in the middle is a holiday rental,” Jack told him, gesturing to it with their joined hands. “They decided they didn’t need it about five years ago so I let them convert it and rent it out for some extra income. It does pretty well.” He pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and let them into the farmhouse, then went back to the car with Ianto to get the bags and the cat basket. “Someone’s still asleep.”
“What a surprise.” Ianto lifted the basket to look in it and was greeted with one sleepy eye peering at him. “We’ll pour him onto the sofa when we get in, but we’d better keep him indoors for a while, anyway.”
The entrance hall was stone-flagged with panelled walls and an imposing staircase up the left-hand side. It rose to a half-landing before turning ninety degrees and finishing the ascent over a door. Two other doors led off the hall, and Jack indicated them each in turn, starting with the one on their right. “Front sitting room, dining room, and the one in the corner is the back sitting room.” He led the way into the back sitting room and indicated the two doors in there. “Kitchen’s on the left with another door into the dining room and one into the shed – still haven’t worked out what I’m going to do with that – and there’s a study in there. Same layout upstairs, but the study and the front sitting room are bathrooms.”
“Do we get an en-suite?”
“Of course. It’s all-luxury here,” Jack grinned. “Well, apart from the septic tank and the gas deliveries.”
Ianto sighed and shrugged. “Can’t have everything, I suppose. Do we need to go shopping or anything?”
“Nope. I have a management company, so I got someone to stock us up on everything we need and clean the house out.” He grinned. “Wouldn’t want to have to spring clean on the first day of our holiday. Speaking of which, we’re not on the mains either – water comes straight from a spring up on the hillside.”
“It’s idyllic.” He went to the window, which was next to a huge fireplace with what looked like a bread oven in one side of it, and leaned against the wall to look out. From here he could see a wide, wild meadow that stretched down the hill to a line of trees that marked the stream. “Is that hawthorn I can see?”
“Blackthorn,” Jack corrected him. “I bought my sloe gin from the farm, and there’s an orchard in a bend in the stream further up.” He pressed himself against Ianto’s back and wrapped his arms around him. “We could brew cider, keep a couple of sheep and chickens…”
“Now you’re being an idiot,” Ianto laughed. He turned and ran his hands down Jack’s chest to rest on his stomach. “If we stay, we’ll think about it in the spring, once we’ve found out whether we can live with the winter or not and we’ve sorted out things like getting one of those bedrooms converted into a nursery.”
Jack beamed and leaned in to kiss him. “I never imagined you’d be all… domestic. You’re kind of soft now.”
“I never expected you’d be pregnant,” he shot back with a grin. “And, you know, oncoming parenthood, coma, Torchwood not being fun anymore…” His grin slipped and he fixed Jack with a more serious, earnest look. “I’m just happy. I know where I want to be.”
“Good.” Jack slipped his hands down Ianto’s back and grabbed his arse. “And I know exactly where I want you.”
Ianto sighed. “At least one of us hasn’t changed.”
Next chapter
Chapter Title: Chapter 1
Challenge/Fest: Ianto Big Bang
Rating: M
Dedication: Thanks to
mcparrot for the awesome beta work, and to xxholiclover and a_silver_story for the artsesSummary: Although the crisis with the 456 is over, Torchwood’s problems definitely aren’t. The government is meddling, Jack is pregnant and they don’t trust the team they’ve been assigned. When they cut loose from Torchwood, things get worse rather than better, and Ianto soon finds himself adrift from his loved ones and on the run, chasing down the chance that Steven’s death might not have been what it seemed.
Characters: Ianto, Jack and Alice, Steven, Agent Johnson
Contains: Pregnancy, violence, death, drug use, child in harm’s way, Ianto/OFC. COE compliant
Disclaimer: Torchwood and its environs, occurrences and persons belong to the BBC. The original characters have disowned me.
An easy peace settled over the street in the late morning now that the children had returned to school after the long summer holiday. A bus rumbled past down the road, disturbing a group of sparrows from a hedge and attracting the attention of a cat sunning itself on the low wall surrounding the park. Beyond the wall the grass was scattered with blossom that drifted from the shady cherry trees, dahlias nodded in the borders between rose bushes heavy with flower, and barely a ripple disturbed the surface of the lake between the water lilies.
The post van came down a side street and stopped just before the corner. Under the watchful eye of the cat on the wall, and accompanied now by the sharp barks of an unseen dog, the postman made his way up one garden path after another. When he got down to the street that ran along the edge of the park the cat jumped from its wall and went across the road to fuss for attention, and he stopped outside the gate to stroke it. Before he could enter, the front door had opened, and a young man emerged to blink in the bright sunlight. “Morning,” he called when he spotted the postman, coming down the path to meet him and collect his post. “Beautiful day.”
“It is that,” he agreed, selecting the items for delivery to this house. “Your Tybalt's got the right idea, sunning himself on that wall every day.”
“He’s got us right where he wants us,” the young man scoffed, collecting the post for Mr. I. Jones and Mr. J. Harkness of Lake Road East. “He'll come in to be fed and then go back to that wall until it goes dark. It's a hard life, isn't it, Monster?”
“I reckon they're aliens, you know? Come to Earth to enslave us millennia ago, and we've been in their thrall ever since.” He shifted his satchel with a grimace and waved to the twitching curtain in the next house. “Did you see that on the news this morning?”
“See what?” Ianto looked up from the post and frowned. “I've not even turned the coffee machine on today.”
“Oh, well apparently it's all true. Aliens, I mean,” he imparted, inflating his chest and raising his chin. “There's going to be a press conference of some sorts at ten. Torchwood stuff. Not that it'll come as news to anyone here, eh? We've known for years. Take care, Mr Jones. Better go make a coffee for your old man.”
“Yeah...” He waved the forgotten post and scooped Tybalt up from under his feet, hurrying back into the house. Inside, the furnishings showed the compromises between two very different schools of interior design. The original tiling had been preserved in the porch and around the fireplace in the living room, above which hung a television that took up the whole of the chimney breast. The fireplace was flanked by two deep leather and wood armchairs and faced by a matching sofa, and a tile and chrome coffee table next to the sofa was covered with classic car magazines and a holiday brochure.
He set Tybalt loose and hovered at the bottom of the stairs, but rather than go up or call up he hurried back into the living room, where the TV had stopped showing photographs and had tuned into the BBC's 24 hour news channel. The familiar breakfast presenter was reporting on the worries caused by rising gas prices, but Ianto's attention was fixed on the ticker tape at the bottom of the screen that read like something out of his nightmares. Any minute now he was going to wake up screaming.
Half an hour later he was still glued to the TV, fist clenched around the phone with his nails biting into his palm confirming that he was awake. Heavy footsteps, muffled by the thick carpet, clumped down the stairs and then padded into the kitchen. Tybalt leapt from the armchair to follow him and beg for another breakfast and Ianto twitched at the movement, his hand inching towards the remote and his protective instincts, kicking into overdrive, urging him to turn it off. In the end he left it, sinking down in his seat and glaring at the TV, caught in the juxtaposition between the personal idyll of Jack singing and cooking himself breakfast in the kitchen and the professional disaster unfolding on the news.
“I am having the strongest craving for coffee right now,” Jack told him as he entered, mouth half-full of bread. “I don't understand it.”
“That's not a craving,” he answered on auto-pilot, “that's just your caffeine addiction kicking in. Doctor says you're not to drink it, and who am I to argue?”
“First one, usually.” Jack dropped onto the sofa, swung his legs up so that his feet were in Ianto's lap and wriggled his toes. “What's up? Rising gas prices aren't...”
“Give it five minutes, it'll come around again,” he snapped. When Jack gave him a wounded look Ianto sighed and started rubbing his thumbs up the arches of Jack's feet. “Sorry, it's... oh, you'll understand.”
Jack sat up and leaned into Ianto, stuffing the last of his sandwich into his mouth and leaning across to put the plate on the table. Ianto could have been deaf and blind and he would have known the moment that the story returned to them, because Jack tensed next to him and spluttered. “What the hell?”
“That's what I said. No one's answering my calls, Gwen's had the police calling her all morning and can't get any answer out of Downing Street either. This isn't an accident or an oversight,” he growled.
“They know why we're not ready to go open,” Jack muttered, splaying a broad hand over his flat stomach. “Are they doing it on purpose, do you think?”
Ianto reached over and covered Jack's hand with his own. The presenter was doing the lead-up to the live press conference, and he couldn't bring himself to lie to Jack even to reassure him.
”And we're crossing live now to Thames House, the site of the terrible tragedy just last month, and now, we hope, the start of a truly new world.”
The image changed to a view of a room full of journalists and a long table, behind which sat the Defence Minister, Edward Constant; his head advisor on Torchwood and UNIT matters, Bridget Spears; a civil service spokesman they didn't recognise and a UNIT defector called Angela Pierce. Ianto felt Jack's hand tighten, and a moment later he realised that the room they were sitting in was the room where he had nearly died. “Over a hundred people,” he gritted out, “and a cheap point scoring opportunity.”
”The Torchwood Institute has been protecting Britain from extra-terrestrial threats for over one hundred years,” Constant explained to the gathered journalists and the wider audience watching on TV, “since it was founded by Queen Victoria. For most of that time its scope has been limited to minor outposts with low levels of activity, but in recent years the threat has grown to levels which can no longer be ignored and which it is no longer beneficial to keep a secret. I must stress at this point that the secrecy of the organisation was a defensive act in itself, which ensured the protection of powerful extraterrestrial organisations. The devastating losses suffered here at Thames House, however, are a clear sign that that protection is no longer sufficient, and therefore we are prepared to move forwards into the open. This will bring with it an increased risk of attack, but with increased visibility we also gain an increased ability to defend ourselves.
“Torchwood will continue to act from the current outpost in Cardiff, where the population is largely aware of their existence due to the work of the current team, and from a base here in London which will be a fast response unit covering the rest of the country.” He tidied the script in front of him and looked out over his audience. ”I'm sure you have a lot of questions, and I'll be happy to answer any. Some, however, will still fall under the purview of the Official Secrets Act.”
The camera panned over the audience and Ianto scoured the faces for one he knew, sagging back into the sofa when he found her. “Sarah Jane's there,” he explained when Jack looked around at him. “Turn it off; I can't listen to him any more.”
Silence descended and they both glared at the blank screen for a long moment. It was broken by the shrill scream of the phone, still clutched in Ianto's hand, and he answered it without thought. “Harkness-Jones, Ianto speaking.”
”Ianto, did you see...”
“Yes, we saw it.” He mouthed 'Gwen' at Jack and stood up to pace behind the sofa, leaving Jack leaning forwards with his elbows on his knees. “We just got fucked over.” From the corner of his eye he saw Jack flinch, and he paused to lay a hand on his shoulder. “Are you still watching it?”
”No, Rhys turned it off because I tried to throw my shoe through the TV. Was anyone we know there?”
“Sarah Jane was there,” he said with heartfelt relief. “She'll call us when it's finished and she's got as much as she can. Did you hear his 'due to the work of the current team'? Bastard.”
Gwen cursed down the line and he heard a soft thump from Gwen's arthritic sofa. ”What do we do now?”
He looked down at Jack, then closed his eyes and tipped his face back to the ceiling. “We wait for them to decide what to do with us. We'd better get off the line, in case someone calls.”
“Yeah, of course.” Gwen hesitated though. “Are you two okay?”
“We're fine.” He sighed and shrugged to himself. “Well, as fine as we can be. Look, why don't you come over?”
“Are you sure?”
Ianto could hear her scrambling around her living room, and he smiled at her eagerness. “Yep. Better than going to the office. Bring lunch with you,” he added.
“Okay. The usual?” A door slammed and Gwen's feet echoed down the stairs. “I'll see you soon.”
He rang off and stared at the phone in his hand. Jack was watching him, and he met his gaze with an equally worried look. “I'm going to call Samantha and get us a meeting with him tomorrow,” he said at last. “We'll go by train.”
Jack watched him with narrowed eyes. “Wait... you have Samantha on speed-dial?”
“Yep,” he held his hand up to stop Jack and listened to the phone ring. “I make friends easily. Samantha, it's Ianto. We need to see Constant tomorrow. Can you book us in without letting him know about it?” He waited for her to confirm it and agreed on a time. “Okay, two o'clock, then. We'll see you tomorrow.”
He flopped onto the sofa again and turned the news back on whilst Jack booked them train tickets. The question session was still ongoing, but the rolling news had moved on and he'd have to press the red button to watch more of it. Jack rested a hand on his leg and squeezed. “It'll be alright,” he promised. “Pierce will take over London, we'll sever all contact and go back below the radar. And if that fails, we'll take a transfer to the Bermuda monitoring station.”
Ianto chuckled and leaned his head against Jack's. “We have plenty of options,” he agreed. “We have to plan for three, though.”
“Let's focus on tomorrow,” Jack said after a moment, but his voice was lighter. “Everything else can happen after.”
X~X~X~X
Ianto's phone buzzed as soon as they got out of the station onto street level, informing him of arriving messages. He checked them as they walked, and relied on Jack to steer them through the heavy foot traffic along the embankment. The brief period on the underground without signal had been a respite from an unending stream of calls and emails that had begun at the end of the press conference the day before. At first it had been their friends calling them to ask what was going on, if they were alright, if they’d seen it, was there anything they could do? By the time they unplugged the phone and went to bed, though, the media had got hold of their number and were ‘requesting’ interviews and comments whilst already running intrusive stories about their private lives.
A policeman waved them into the Ministry of Defence’s main building on Whitehall and he realised that they’d walked farther than he thought. Jack was putting his ID away, and he gave Ianto a tired smile as they climbed the short marble staircase into the foyer. “Anything interesting?”
“Not really.” He let Jack precede him to the desk and hovered behind him.
“Hi,” Jack glanced over his shoulder at Ianto and he nodded, confirming that the secretary was new. “We have an appointment with Constant.”
“Right, sir…” Her fingers rattled over the keyboard and she frowned. “I’m sorry, it’s not on the… right, yes, I’ll just call up and tell him you’re here.” Once more, Jack’s expression stopped her in her tracks and she lifted her hand from the phone handset. “Second door on the left down the corridor,” she finished in a small voice.
Jack nodded and followed her directions with Ianto close behind him as always. His coat billowed as he pushed the double doors open and strode into the room. Whilst he sat down, uninvited, in the seat across the desk from Constant, Ianto closed the doors securely and took up a position next to them, leaning on the wall with his hands tucked into his pockets. Apart from a short glance up when they burst into the room, Constant kept his eyes on his work and carried on as he had been doing, letting the harsh clatter of his keyboard be the only thing to break the stalemate.
They glanced at each other once more and then Jack reached across and pulled the power cable out of the back of the monitor. He waved it at Constant and held it out of reach. “It’s only the monitor,” he told him cheerfully, “so you can get back to work as soon as we’ve gone. It’s rude to ignore your guests, though. How about some coffee? Ianto?”
“That would be nice,” he agreed. “Or brandy? It’s been a Hell of a day.”
Constant folded his hands in front of him on the desk and ignored Ianto. “It’s also rude to enter someone’s office uninvited, but I shouldn’t have expected you to pay heed to that, Harkness.”
“Well, we did book an appointment.” Jack held his hand to his mouth in mock shock. “Oh, but we didn’t pass the message on, did we? Oh well, we’re here now, so no harm done.” He swung his feet up onto the desk and kept swinging the power lead. “That was some press conference yesterday; I liked your injured offence and earnestness in particular. With acting talent like that you’re wasted in government.”
Ianto found a bottle of port in the drinks cabinet and poured two small glasses out, approaching the desk to hand one to Jack. “It brought to mind Jennifer Anniston and Gerard Butler in the Bounty Hunter.”
Constant raised an eyebrow, looking bewildered. “More Gerard Butler, I hope.”
“Nope.” He sipped at the port and raised the glass in a salute. “This is an excellent vintage. I must make a note of it.”
“It was a gift,” Constant said, lacing the words with polite venom, “from my wife on my appointment to office.”
“Well, please pass my compliments to your wife, then.”
“What do you want?” He leaned back in his chair and looked at both of them. “Yesterday’s press conference was nothing to do with you; it was about London and the organisation as a whole, not individual locations.”
“We did watch it,” Jack told him, sneering. “We got your messages loud and clear. Oh, and whilst we’re at it, who leaked our home number to the press.”
Constant’s hands fluttered across the desk and came to rest in his lap again. “I don’t know, but I assure you that I’ll find out. Such an invasion of privacy should never have happened, and we will do everything to minimise the consequences for you, of course.”
“Of course,” Jack mimicked. “Why did you choose yesterday to go public? We haven’t finished discussing what’s going to happen yet. Unless that was something else that happened without us.”
“As I said, the details of the relaunch in London are fully under control and something you don’t need to worry about. Cardiff is your jurisdiction and will remain so.” He smiled and spread his hands. “But Torchwood must move forwards, and I hope that by focussing on London we will give you the space, opportunity and funding to redevelop the Cardiff facilities.”
“You don’t know the first thing about Torchwood,” Jack snapped. “And that conference was not about Torchwood. It was about an entirely new organisation with the Torchwood name slapped on it and with you in charge.”
“Change happens…”
“We made our position perfectly clear.” Jack rose from his chair and slammed his hands down on the desk, leaning forwards with his palms planted on their side of Constant’s hands and towering over him. “We’re not ready for the public to know about us, and now we might never be ready.”
“Captain Harkness, please calm down.” Constant sighed and leaned back out of Jack’s reach, flicking a glance down Jack’s body to his flat abdomen. “I think that your hormones are clouding your judgement somewhat. You know that personal concerns can’t stand in the way of the country’s safety .”
Jack bristled but Ianto answered for him, stamping down on his own anger. “This is about more than us and you know it. All three surviving Torchwood operatives are preparing for unexpected parenthood and therefore in no position to train replacements, and I didn’t hear you mentioning the fact that Torchwood is currently just me and the car because an as-yet unidentified government organisation who you should but apparently don’t have control of destroyed our base to stop us doing our jobs during the last crisis. Maybe you’ll let us know about the next press conference in advance and we can raise the issue?”
“Our investigation is continuing, and it would have been unwise to comment on the on-going investigation when it would have lost us any element of surprise we may have.” Constant’s tongue darted out like a snake’s and flicked across his lips. “As to your limited man power, Sergeant Pierce will report to Cardiff on Monday with a team to support you. She will be your second in command, Harkness, and you can train her up to cover your maternity leave.”
“Ianto is my second in command.” Jack looked over his shoulder at Ianto and fixed him with a glare that dared him to disagree, something he had no intention of doing. “I wouldn’t trust anyone else to do it, and certainly not someone with no experience of the job.”
“Well you’ll have to get used to it.” Constant straightened his tie and glared at Jack’s hands. “Sergeant Pierce will report to Cardiff’s hub on Monday with her team and that is the end of it. I am fed up with your stalling, and Cardiff needs better. You’d better get over your issues quickly, because Torchwood will move forwards with or without you.”
“Who the hell do you think you are?” Jack exploded. “How dare you?”
“Captain Harkness, I am your employer. Since the Thames House Ordinance, Torchwood answers to this department, and you would be wise to remember that. Look, I’ve consulted you as much as I could, and your experience and input has been invaluable, but there comes a point where we have to move forwards, not be scared of the future.” He sighed and stood up. “I understand that this is a trying time for you, and all I’m doing is trying to make the change-over as easy for you as possible. Angela will be with you on Monday, and then the risk to Mr Jones and to your baby will be much less and maybe you’ll be able to think about things rationally.”
Jack balled his fists and rested the knuckles on the desk top. “Torchwood doesn’t do weekends. Tell her we expect her at work tomorrow morning.”
He swept out before Constant could say anything, and Ianto stepped closer to the desk. “If you send the files on the new recruits across to us I should be able to get them into the system and get them access to at least the archives tonight. Of course, I can’t promise anything, but it’ll be a start.”
“You could just tell him you need more time,” Constant suggested, not deigning to look up at Ianto.
“Not at all. I agree with him, we need them there as soon as possible so that they can start covering for Jack and Gwen. Once they arrive Gwen can finish setting their accounts up, but we’ll need at least a couple of them to be able to get onto the computer system tomorrow morning.” He smiled mildly and turned for the door. “Thanks for the port, Edward. Hopefully we won’t see you again for a long time.”
The door swung shut behind him with a satisfying thump, and he looked up and down the corridor for Jack. A harried looking aide came scurrying down the corridor towards him, clutching a lever-arch folder like a shield in front of him and casting glances over his shoulder, and Ianto guessed that Jack was the reason for his expression. He eventually found him in a vacant office, sitting on the edge of the desk and studying the empty bookcase. Ianto sat next to him, resting his hand between them so that their little fingers touched. “There’s always Bermuda,” he suggested.
Jack laughed and shifted his little finger over so that it hooked over Ianto’s. “No. Not yet. Not until we know that there’s someone in Cardiff that we can trust.” He sighed and tipped his head back. “I’ve looked after that city for too long. Gone native.”
“Could be worse.” Ianto bumped his shoulder against Jack’s and got to his feet. “We’ve got a while before the train. Do you want to look some more people up?”
He considered it and then shook his head, getting up to join Ianto so they could leave. “No. Let’s get lunch and charge it to Constant. I’m in the mood for some petty bureaucracy.”
“I’ve been a good influence on you,” Ianto commented, stopping at the desk to write a note for Constant’s secretary and another for the secretary on the main desk informing them both of the lunch bill that would cross their desks. “We owe Samantha at least dinner for that one, by the way.”
“Of course.” Jack offered his arm and they strolled out into the sunshine again, breaking apart almost immediately to navigate the crowd. A moment later, though, Ianto felt Jack take his hand, and he tightened his grip in response .
X~X~X~X
The next morning dawned cloudy, and they hurried in to work far earlier than they normally would have, thanks to Jack’s brash demands. After they got back to Cardiff they had spent a few hours setting up just enough details on the systems to make it look like they’d made an effort and then set about changing all the passwords, entry codes and database access protocols. Half an hour before they’d instructed the team to arrive, the proximity alarms on the car park went off and Jack switched on the CCTV. Ianto hurried across to join him, and they watched the new arrivals scouting out the area and even placing a couple of bugs around the car park. They glanced at each other and Ianto flicked an eyebrow in acknowledgement.
They watched the team come closer to the main door. Once they were in sight of the main cameras, Ianto went to wait by the door. He watched Jack, who watched the CCTV, and at Jack’s signal he opened the door and stepped back to let the team in. Angela Pierce brushed past him after a momentary hesitation with barely a glance, but the others lingered longer in the doorway and looked him over, distaste or sincere curiosity written across their features. “Come in,” he said as they swanned past him. “We're just getting your details entered into the computer system so that we can begin – we weren't expecting you this early, otherwise we'd be ready.” By the time he finished he was already talking to himself, so he closed the door and locked it again before he followed them over to the office of the warehouse.
When he got there Jack was nose-to-nose with Pierce, ordering her back out into the main space and holding Ianto's chair under the desk, preventing her from pulling it out and sitting down. They looked around when he entered, Jack with simple acknowledgement and Pierce with clear animosity. “Jones, you're going to have to move your things out onto one of the other desks,” she instructed. “I'm moving into this office with Captain Harkness.”
“You're very antagonistic, considering that this is your first day in the job, I'm higher up the chain of command than you are, and I have a jar of Retcon in my pocket.” He came around the desk and smiled when Jack pulled his chair out for him. “So I suggest you get settled in at your desk in the main office. Breakfast will be delivered at just before eight, and by then Gwen should be here and we'll be ready to give you the orientation.”
“We were prepared to give you a chance,” Jack told her, returning to his own desk. “And you blew it. Ianto is my second in command, and when I go on paternity leave he will be first in command. Deal with it.”
She snapped her mouth shut and stormed out, slamming the door behind her. At his desk, Ianto reached for his keyboard and brought up the CCTV from the main room. “They're mercenaries,” he growled whilst they gathered in a huddle between the desks. “There's too many of them for us to deal with as well. What are we going to do?”
“I don't know.” Jack tried to smile at him and suggested, “We could just leave.”
“No we couldn't.” The group on his screen were gesticulating towards the office, and one threw himself into a chair and drew his gun to check it. “They brought their own weapons. You don't think...”
“No. We'd be dead if that's what they wanted,” Jack said. “We'll confiscate the weapons and lock them up. Preferably at the bottom of the Bay. Set up a rota so we've only got three of them at a time, put Pierce on a swinging shift to keep her on edge and off her game, and restrict their archive access.” He tightened his hand into a fist and stared at the wall. “We'll weather this somehow.”
“And if we can't?” Ianto couldn't look at him. “What if this is too big for us ?”
“Hey, don't think like that.” Jack got up and came around to squeeze Ianto's shoulders. “We are Torchwood. Nothing can stop that.”
“Not reassuring,” he teased, reaching up to cover one of Jack's hands with his own. “You're right though. It's early, I'm just worrying unnecessarily.”
“You are.” Jack failed to sound like he believed himself. “Let's get this story rolling.”
Gwen arrived a few minutes later, breaking up the huddle in the main office. She threw her lightweight coat onto the stand and introduced herself to the new team, settled behind her desk with her feet on its surface. They relaxed around her and a few of them started chatting with her, but Angela kept apart from them with two others, fixing her glare on Gwen and occasionally flicking glances at the closed door. Ianto made a note of Pierce's apparent allies and began to set them on separate shifts on the rota, but he was disturbed by the arrival of breakfast.
He'd arranged for their favoured bakery to deliver a selection platter of their sweet pastries and a stack of bacon sandwiches, and he went out to collect them from the van. When he returned, Gwen had adopted her position by the presentation board with the new arrivals at the conference table in front of her, and Jack was standing right at the back, trying not to laugh and holding onto the stack of orientation folders. Ianto set the trays down on the table, retrieved the bags that held his, Jack's and Gwen's specific orders and, despite his irritation, kept a close eye on the team's selections for future reference. Gwen accepted her breakfast gratefully and put down the pen that she'd been gesturing with. “Breakfast orders are taken the night before,” she told the new team members. “Don't forget or you'll go without.”
“Ianto's the man to tell what you want for breakfast,” Jack told them, making them all crane around to see him. “He's the one who deals with all deliveries from food to archived materials, the one in charge of the computer system and the archives, the one who keeps the vehicles ticking over and, as if that weren't enough, the one who pays your wages.” He looked over at Ianto and gave him a genuine smile. “Whatever you need, you probably need Ianto. Come to him first, because if you come to Gwen or me we'll probably just point you in his direction.”
“I do my best.” He returned Jack's smile and nodded at the team. “I'm Jack's second in command, and the primary administrator. Everything comes through me, so if your reports aren't on time you won't leave work until they're done, because I haven't got time to deal with them.” Several of them sat up straighter, and he smiled in acknowledgement. “I know it's boring and the last thing anyone wants to do at the end of a long day, but it needs doing and no one's going to do it for you.”
“It really is important,” Gwen agreed. “We don't run on paperwork but it keeps the budget coming, so if you want to get paid you get your reports in.”
“Everything needs to be double printed and filed electronically as well.” He eyed them and decided to risk showing some of their hand. “Downing Street have been a lot pissier about us keeping our archive safely since they blew us up.”
Some of the recruits looked surprised, and Pierce did a reasonable job of pretending. One of the new team, a former gang member from Bradford with a criminal record not far different from Ianto's, stuttered over asking, “They blew... it was the government?”
“Yes, and we still don't know why,” Jack told him, daring Sergeant Pierce to say something. “They probably won't do it again, not now they got through the legislation they wanted. The government wants you here because they think they own you. Now there's not much we can do about that, apart from make the best of it. Torchwood is a job for life. It is a job that claims lives. If you manage five years you're doing well, and if you manage ten you're a miracle. You do what I tell you when I tell you and your life expectancy improves; but if you think that you know better than me you walk out that door now, because, whilst I don't care about you putting yourself in danger, I care about this city and I will not see it put in danger by egos.”
Ianto took the folders from him and started passing them out. “These folders contain everything you need to know: your pass codes, archival procedures, evacuation procedures, historical activity records, maps of Cardiff... read it all and learn it. We don't do exams, but we will test you every single day until we know we can rely on you. Understand?” There was a chorus of agreement, and he stepped back. “Good. Now enjoy your breakfast and get settled in. If you need anything you can find me in our office.”
He followed Jack back into the office and went straight to the coffee machine to put on enough for the whole team. Behind him, Jack paced with short, quick steps, coming to a stop behind Ianto, where he rested his hands on Ianto's hips. “Do you think they'll do?”
“I don't know,” he admitted. “Some of them could be alright, but it depends on whether they're loyal to Pierce or to Britain. Or to themselves. We'll win over the last two, but if they're loyal to her and Constant then we're... screwed.”
Jack wrapped his arms around Ianto fully and squeezed him. “I'm charming enough to win anyone over,” he insisted with false bonhomie. “It'll be fine. Now get the masses their coffee and eat your breakfast before it goes cold.”
X~X~X~X
The month end came two weeks after the team arrived, and Ianto found himself buried under even more paperwork than usual. He yawned hugely, too tired even to think about covering it. He was safe from Jack seeing him, settled on the sofa in the main office with the final version of the monthly finance report, but Asim spotted him and stood up to holler, “Boss, take Ianto home! He’s nearly asleep already.”
He glared at Asim and snuggled deeper into the sofa. “I’m fine, Jack.” He didn’t need to look up to know that Jack would have come when Asim called him. “I just need to finish this…”
“No you don’t.” Jack snatched it off him and Ianto let his hands fall to his lap, eyes closing with frustrated exhaustion. “It can go to Constant like that. Let him figure it out.” He sat down on the sofa next to Ianto and rubbed his hand over his back. “Hey, let’s get you home.”
“Yeah…” He blinked his eyes open again and looked around as if for the first time. “Let me get my things, and I’ll be ready to go.”
“Let me,” Jack insisted. “You stay here, I’ll get the things, and then we’ll pour you into bed.”
He chuckled and forced his eyes to stay open to watch Jack go, then levered himself off the sofa and meandered over to Asim’s desk. They had few friends in the new team and fewer people they felt they could trust, but Asim had been the first to make it onto both lists. He had a quick wit, less dry than Ianto’s but nowhere near as bawdy as either of them either, scattered brightly coloured pens across his desk, locked himself in the bathroom to pray, and was in a happy arranged marriage with a primary school teacher. He cared about what he saw and the people they helped and kept the team that Jack had assigned him to lead organised and looked after. Ianto plonked himself on the edge of his desk and stole a Skittle from the jar next to the monitor. “Are you going to be alright without us?”
“My sweets will be safer.” He paused and looked up at Ianto, dark eyes narrowing. “Are you taking a couple of days off or something?”
“Yeah,” he said, although he wasn’t sure yet where they were going. “I’m exhausted, and Jack needs to slow down for the baby. Just a few days. The monitor’s predicting quiet, we trust you… you’re in charge whilst we’re gone.”
“Really?” He sat back and glanced at the empty desk against the wall, where Pierce worked with her back to the room and a mirror propped up on the desk in front of her. “But what about Ms. Pierce?” Ianto raised an eloquent eyebrow and Asim grinned back at him. “Gotcha. Enjoy your break, then.”
“We will. Look after them for us.” He pushed off the desk, grabbing another Skittle on his way, and followed Jack into the office. Jack was at his own desk, finishing off on clearing out his email inbox, and looked up when Ianto closed the door. “We’re getting out of here,” he said without preamble. “I’m tired of looking over my shoulder all the time, I’m tired of not being able to eat or sleep for worrying, and I’m tired of fucking Pierce and her superiority complex.” He slammed his desk drawer open, grabbed a bag and started collecting his personal effects and everything he thought he might need .
Jack’s hands landed on his shoulders, tender and gentle, and he pulled Ianto back against him. “Hey,” he shushed him until Ianto stopped struggling. “You’re exhausted. Maybe we should take a couple of days, get ourselves together. You’ll feel better then .”
He sighed and pulled out of Jack’s hands. “No I won’t.” He put the last things in his bag and set about locking down his computer. “We’d still have to come back to work. Come back here… It’s not the same any more, Jack.”
“I know.” Jack went to his own desk and did the same as Ianto, emptying his bottom drawer into his coat pockets. Neither of them had much left to keep at work after the Hub had been destroyed, but he still hoped that the excavation teams would find something when they got down to Jack’s bunker. It should have been safe, but there were no guarantees. Jack’s voice broke through his musings, startling him back into the new, sterile office. “Ianto, you’re asleep on your feet. You should have said something hours ago.”
“I’m used to being able to sleep at work,” he apologised . “And I’ll sleep better tonight.”
“Am I supposed to believe that?” Jack took the bag from him and guided him out with a hand on his hip. “Night guys. Asim, you’re…”
“Yeah, Ianto told me.” He waved to them and put down what he was doing. “Have a good break. You both look like you need it.”
“You say the nicest things,” Jack drawled. “Okay kids, play nicely for Uncle Nazir whilst we’re gone. Do your homework, get to bed on time and eat your greens.”
“You sound like my nan,” Ben muttered into his computer. “Have a good weekend. In the middle of the week.”
Ianto grabbed Jack’s hand and dragged him out into the cold night before he could get into another discussion about semantics. The weather had turned in the last fortnight, and the nights were now damp and chilly, with mist drifting in off the Bay to blanket the streets. They walked to the car in silence and Ianto got into the passenger seat without argument, leaning his head against the headrest and closing his eyes. “I’m going straight to bed when we get in,” he told the darkness. “And in the morning I’m going to have a long, hot bath and a fry-up.”
“And then?” Jack’s hand rested on his leg, warm through the fabric of his suit trousers. “What are you going to do after that?”
He opened one eye and looked up at where the bug was concealed in the visor. “I’m going to take you to bed and make love to you very, very slowly, until you’re screaming at me to do something.”
“That sounds good.” Jack’s voice was suddenly strained, but rolling with warm humour. “We could do that in the bath.”
“Nope. Quick and dirty in the bath. Water and bubbles all over the floor for me to mop up whilst you do breakfast.” He growled at the ceiling. “Weevils. Weevils and hoixes and sewers.”
“Way to kill the mood, Ianto…” Jack’s hand slid up Ianto’s thigh and Ianto pushed it away. “Good point. Want me to pick up something hot and chocolatey before we get home?”
He shook his head and let his eyes close again. “Just get me home.”
X~X~X~X
Cold air woke him up, and he blinked up into Jack’s face, leaning over him through the open car door. “We’re home,” Jack told him, “and the nice doctor tells me I’m not supposed to carry anything heavy anymore.”
“I wouldn’t trust you to carry me without nutting me on the doorframe, anyway.” He groaned as he levered himself from the car and arched his back. “The bed is made, right? Right…” Jack followed him into the house and up the stairs, and went into the bathroom whilst Ianto undressed and shifted the cat off the pillow. He joined Jack for just long enough to brush his team, wrapping one arm around his waist and leaning against him, and then wove back to the bed, moved Tybalt off the pillow again, and slid under the covers .
As tired as he was, now that he was in bed his mind just wouldn’t stop. He knew everything that could go wrong with this, every reason it was a bad idea, but he could see no other choice. When Jack got into bed on the other side, Ianto immediately slid over to him and tucked himself into the crook of Jack’s arm, wrapping an arm around him and curling close. Branches rattled against the window, and he shivered despite the heat Jack was giving out. “It’ll be okay,” Jack promised. “We’ll be okay. We’ll go to the farm for a bit, enjoy the space and the quiet, and then we can decide what we’re going to do from there.”
“I love you.” He closed his eyes tightly and tightened his grip on Jack. “Maybe you’re right,” he conceded, knowing he wasn’t. “Maybe we just need a bit of space…”
Jack’s lips pressed against his forehead, and he finally let himself relax. He was aware of Jack murmuring, but it was nothing more than a noise as he finally relaxed into the sleep he so badly needed.
X~X~X~X
Ianto waited in the window seat, balancing a notepad on his lap with a half-finished shopping list scrawled untidily across it and watching cars going past. He peered at every vehicle, scanned the park beyond and studied the bushes whenever they twitched. The gentle tick-tock of the grandfather clock in the hall chimed against his already fraught nerves, and his skin grew clammy with cold sweat. When the familiar dark blue of their Jaguar estate came into view and pulled up in front of the house, he still couldn’t relax until Jack got out and he saw for himself that he was home. He wiped his hands off on his trousers and dropped the shopping list on the window seat so that he could help Jack bring in the boxes he’d returned with. “Next time,” he said as he jogged down the path, “I’m going with you.”
“Why?” Jack looked him up and down and shook his head. “Ianto, you’re paranoid.”
“It’s not paranoia if they’re actually out to get you.” He clicked his tongue at Tybalt and lifted him up into the box one-handed to bring him into the house. “What have you got for us, anyway?”
They set the boxes down on the kitchen table, and Jack started emptying them, explaining as he did so. “I know we’re not planning on going for long, but just in case… I got these ready when you were still in hospital, once we started preparing for reopening Torchwood. Officially they’re in the Hub, and they’re on the inventory lists but not on a tracker record. I stashed them at the empty flat – speaking of which, if we get someone in to do the work on it and give them one of our accounts, they’ll probably skip the country and lead Constant and Pierce on a bit of a wild-goose chase.”
“Remind me who’s paranoid again?” Ianto looked up at him and smiled. “Good thinking. I’ll do some casual browsing for distant destinations this evening. And drag.”
“Drag?”
“Well, if we were to end up in some distant corner of Africa one of us would have to be a woman, and it might as well be the pregnant one.” He gestured into the boxes and headed back to the window. “I’ll just get the notebook.”
He scooped the notebook up from where it had fallen and fished the pen out from under the chair. When he straightened up he took a last glance out of the window and froze at the sight of a car pulling to a halt across the road. It stayed there for a while and the driver scanned the doors down the street, then leaned over to fiddle with something on the dashboard and, finally, moved on. “Just looking for an address,” Ianto told himself. “It’s these streets; they all have the same name.”
“What was that?” Ianto spun around to face Jack, who was in the doorway, passing a mobile phone from hand to hand. “You said something, but I didn’t hear it.”
“Talking to myself,” he assured him, darting a glance outside again. “Just… paranoid.”
Jack came up behind him and rested a hand on his waist. “We’ll get out of here soon,” he promised, lips pressed against the back of his neck. “Come see what I’ve brought for us, then we’ll go out for dinner, make like everything’s normal, pick up some supplies at Tesco on the way home, and we’ll leave before dawn.”
“Yeah.” He smiled back at Jack and turned to follow him back into the kitchen. “What shiny have you got for me, then?”
“Stack of tablets. I got a dozen of the TufTab and kept three of them. I know you hate Vista, but it’s droppable, not GPS activated and also not SIM activated, so it’s wifi or nothing.” He tapped the black cases underneath. “And I saved us two of the field kits. Fully kitted out with bugs, substance tester, wire tapping, the works. All of them are running TOR, as well.”
“Excellent.” He jotted them down and looked into the box. “Phones?”
“Got you a BlackBerry from a second hand shop, because you’re a slave to your brands, but you can have a selection of SIM cards to go with it and it’s not on the records. Also got a load of basic model phones. Two sets of travel adaptors with a variety of ends to charge up everything we have here.” He stacked those on top of the cases and waited whilst Ianto jotted them all down. “That’s the first box. Over here we have the under-the-counter stuff. Magnetic lock-pick device, secure GPS device and trackers, guns, small-scale explosives…”
“You brought those into the kitchen!”
“Relax,” Jack scoffed. “They’re each in an individual containment box, perfectly safe.”
“You said that about sex without a condom.” He glanced at Jack’s stomach and smiled when he spread a hand across it. “And I’m not saying it was a bad thing, but you were clearly wrong.”
“I don’t know why I put up with you.” Jack put the weapons back in the box and hefted it onto his hip. “Let’s get these packed up nice and hidden, and you can decide what we’re taking out of the wardrobe. Not everything,” he warned. “We’ve got to make it look like we’re coming back if anyone comes to check , just in case they decide to send out a search party.”
Ianto shivered at the idea and glanced over his shoulder once more. The kitchen was peaceful, as it should be, and he followed Jack up the stairs to their bedroom, where Jack already had the suitcases out from the airing cupboard and was unpacking the bags from them. “How many bags are we taking, then?”
“Put the cases and a hold-all in the boot, two more hold-alls on the back seat,” Jack told him. “As long as no one sees us putting the stuff in the boot it’ll look like we’re only taking the hold-alls.”
“Okay.” He stood with his hands on his hips and nodded at the bed. “Weapons in the reinforced case, please. I’ll start on the clothes. We can put the laptops in the in-car bags as well.”
They packed in comfortable silence, broken occasionally by quiet murmurs of questions or requests. Ianto left most of his suits where they were, packing only the ones that crumpled least, and filled the bags instead with jeans and T-shirts, jumpers and jogging bottoms, comfortable clothes suited to colder weather. He filled the two bags with clothes, finishing in time to help Jack choose books and DVDs to go in the cases with the explosives. “There’s not much left to pack,” he pointed out as he added a couple of Pratchett books to one of the cases. “Just the stuff we’ll need overnight and the cat. We can get this stuff into the car and then go out.”
Jack frowned and looked over at the pillow. “We’re taking the cat?”
“Well I’m not leaving him behind.” Ianto gathered Tybalt up and cradled him in his arms. “He’d miss us, wouldn’t you, baby?”
“Ianto…” Jack sat next to him and rested his hand on his leg. Ianto tensed up against him and tried to pull away. “Ianto, we can’t uproot him and take him on the run with us.”
“We’re not going on the run!” He tightened his hold on Tybalt and buried his fingers in his thick fur. “I can’t leave him. If I leave him… it would mean that we’re not coming back, and that everything we have now… Besides, I’d only worry, and wouldn’t it be better to uproot him than to pass him off to someone he doesn’t know…”
“I know.” Jack pulled them both closer and started stroking Tybalt’s tail. “We’ll take him. He’s family; how could I even suggest it?”
Ianto laughed and leaned against Jack, still feeling off-kilter. “I think he’s getting stroppy.”
“I think you’re getting stroppy.” Jack got up and fastened the last case up, then turned back and held his hand out to Ianto. “Dinner. In the morning we’ll call Constant and tell him we’re not coming back and then we’ll go to a little place I know in the middle of nowhere to weather the winter. Sound good?”
“Sounds good.” He put his hand in Jack’s and let Jack pull him to his feet and out of the room. Behind them, Tybalt curled into a ball on top of one of the bags, and his tail twitched whilst he watched them leave.
X~X~X~X
The narrow, rough track between lichen-clad stone walls opened out into the corner of a farmyard. One side of the yard was flanked by stone-built outbuildings of varying sizes, one of which looked to have been converted to accommodation, as it had double glazing and empty hanging baskets over the door. Across from the outbuildings was a barn and, separated from it by a narrow passageway, a whitewashed farmhouse with a shed abutting it on the opposite side to the barn. Ianto got out of the car and closed the door, turning in the centre of the yard to look around it. “Okay, I wasn’t expecting this.”
Jack folded his arms on top of the car and grinned at him. “Do you like it?”
He gave Jack a look and wandered to the end of the yard to lean on the fence. Fields stretched away from the farm, sloping down behind the house towards a wooded stream and up behind the outbuildings to the brow of the hill. A red kite wheeled over the far hillside and Ianto’s spirits soared with it. Behind him, Jack’s feet crunched over the gravel, and Ianto turned to look at him. “It’s beautiful,” he said. “There must be no-one around for miles.”
“It’s pretty remote,” Jack agreed. He settled against Ianto’s side with his arms on the wall and Ianto’s arm around his waist. “It was a working farm until last year, but my tenants retired and I’ve not found anyone wanting to take it on yet. No one wants to get into farming anymore; not out here, anyway.”
Ianto looked around at the stunning scenery, bewildered. “Why?”
Jack laughed and leaned into him. “See how you feel when we’ve been here a while. For now, let’s get the stuff into the house and I’ll give you the tour.” He pushed off the wall and reached for Ianto’s hand. “The building in the middle is a holiday rental,” Jack told him, gesturing to it with their joined hands. “They decided they didn’t need it about five years ago so I let them convert it and rent it out for some extra income. It does pretty well.” He pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and let them into the farmhouse, then went back to the car with Ianto to get the bags and the cat basket. “Someone’s still asleep.”
“What a surprise.” Ianto lifted the basket to look in it and was greeted with one sleepy eye peering at him. “We’ll pour him onto the sofa when we get in, but we’d better keep him indoors for a while, anyway.”
The entrance hall was stone-flagged with panelled walls and an imposing staircase up the left-hand side. It rose to a half-landing before turning ninety degrees and finishing the ascent over a door. Two other doors led off the hall, and Jack indicated them each in turn, starting with the one on their right. “Front sitting room, dining room, and the one in the corner is the back sitting room.” He led the way into the back sitting room and indicated the two doors in there. “Kitchen’s on the left with another door into the dining room and one into the shed – still haven’t worked out what I’m going to do with that – and there’s a study in there. Same layout upstairs, but the study and the front sitting room are bathrooms.”
“Do we get an en-suite?”
“Of course. It’s all-luxury here,” Jack grinned. “Well, apart from the septic tank and the gas deliveries.”
Ianto sighed and shrugged. “Can’t have everything, I suppose. Do we need to go shopping or anything?”
“Nope. I have a management company, so I got someone to stock us up on everything we need and clean the house out.” He grinned. “Wouldn’t want to have to spring clean on the first day of our holiday. Speaking of which, we’re not on the mains either – water comes straight from a spring up on the hillside.”
“It’s idyllic.” He went to the window, which was next to a huge fireplace with what looked like a bread oven in one side of it, and leaned against the wall to look out. From here he could see a wide, wild meadow that stretched down the hill to a line of trees that marked the stream. “Is that hawthorn I can see?”
“Blackthorn,” Jack corrected him. “I bought my sloe gin from the farm, and there’s an orchard in a bend in the stream further up.” He pressed himself against Ianto’s back and wrapped his arms around him. “We could brew cider, keep a couple of sheep and chickens…”
“Now you’re being an idiot,” Ianto laughed. He turned and ran his hands down Jack’s chest to rest on his stomach. “If we stay, we’ll think about it in the spring, once we’ve found out whether we can live with the winter or not and we’ve sorted out things like getting one of those bedrooms converted into a nursery.”
Jack beamed and leaned in to kiss him. “I never imagined you’d be all… domestic. You’re kind of soft now.”
“I never expected you’d be pregnant,” he shot back with a grin. “And, you know, oncoming parenthood, coma, Torchwood not being fun anymore…” His grin slipped and he fixed Jack with a more serious, earnest look. “I’m just happy. I know where I want to be.”
“Good.” Jack slipped his hands down Ianto’s back and grabbed his arse. “And I know exactly where I want you.”
Ianto sighed. “At least one of us hasn’t changed.”
Next chapter
