galadriel1010 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
galadriel1010) wrote2011-05-20 03:28 pm
galadriel1010) wrote2011-05-20 03:28 pm
Entry tags:
Timelord!Ianto: Trapped 5
Title: Trials of a Timelord
Chapter Title: Trapped by Torchwood part 5
Challenge/Fest: LongliveIanto cliché bingo
Prompt: Timelord!Ianto
Rating: G
Dedication:
Summary: A young Timelord crosses paths with Torchwood, and his life is forever changed.
Characters: Ianto Jones, Jack Harkness and OCs. Mentions of the Doctor
Contains:
Disclaimer: Torchwood and its environs, occurrences and persons belong to the BBC. The original characters have disowned me.
Ianto looked around carefully before he put his entry code into the archives door. Anyone who checked the records would see that he'd been here, but he didn't want anyone to disturb him right now. He didn't really expect anyone to be around at this time of night, but there was always a chance that one of Harkness's team would be working late, or that UNIT would have sent someone in to get information that Harkness wouldn't let them have during the day.
It was a week since the Battle of Canary Wharf, as UNIT were calling it, and most of the survivors hadn't stepped back into the building after they'd finished identifying the dead. They'd only found six other survivors around the building, three of them in an upper corridor where they'd been waiting to be converted into cybermen before their guards had been ripped from the world by the Doctor's actions. They and most of the others had been whisked away to UNIT's first class rehabilitation clinic in Switzerland to begin healing, and only a few hardy souls clung on here to help with moving the archives.
Harkness wasn't cruel. He was snappish and brusque to the UNIT troops who were helping with the move, but to Ianto, Lisa, Anton and Brendan he was gentle, treating them with kid gloves and careful words of encouragement and support. Ianto wasn't used to it, which was a depressing thing to realise, and he just needed some time alone in the archives to recover his routine. He left the lights off, knowing his way through the archival shelves without having to see by now, and settled down at his desk.
It was easy to settle into the work, going through their database and updating the Torchwood Cardiff database with the information on the items that had been sent over there. The others had been going through the shelves and packing things away into crates and boxes for Jack's teammate to take back with her at the end of each day, but Ianto was, as always, confined to a desk. No one seemed to have considered moving him anywhere else, for which he was glad. He'd had enough upheaval.
Someone stirred in the darkness behind him and he stilled, well aware that the clattering of his fingers on the keyboard would have given him away. The lights came on above him, shockingly bright for a moment before his eyes got used to them, and when he'd acclimatised he recognised the figure standing over him as Harkness. Ianto licked suddenly dry lips and hid his hands in his lap. “Sir.”
“What are you doing here?” Harkness leaned over him to look at his work, and Ianto was surrounded by the smell of him – it was natural, clearly obvious to Ianto's acute senses even if the rest of the team envied his aftershave, and said more about the Captain than he'd be comfortable with Ianto knowing. “You're working on the database at this time?”
Ianto shrugged, uncomfortable with Harkness's close proximity, and went back to the entry he'd been working on. “Couldn't sleep, sir,” he answered quietly. “It's all a bit...”
Harkness rested a surprisingly gentle hand on his shoulder, and Ianto felt both of his hearts beating faster with fear of discovery until Harkness moved away to sit in the other chair. “I know that feeling,” he sighed at last. “It's a bad business, Ianto.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You don't have to call me that,” Harkness chided gently. He grinned then, although it didn't meet his eyes. “I kinda like it, though. Maybe I should get the others to call me sir, too.”
“I think more than one of us calling you sir would go to your head,” Ianto teased, then realised what he'd done. “Sorry, sir...”
“Don't worry about it.” Harkness dismissed the teasing and leaned back in his chair, lacing his hands together behind his head. “Brendan said you learned from the Archivist?”
Ianto's hearts raced again, and he nodded carefully, not lifting his eyes from the screen in front of him. “He was a good teacher.”
“I'm sure he was.” Harkness didn't move from his position, but he seemed to deflate a little. “I wanted to meet him, but they wouldn't allow it. They never trusted me enough.”
“They never trusted anyone enough,” Ianto told him, trying to be reassuring although he wasn't sure why. “Would you have helped him to escape, if you could have?”
Harkness sighed sadly. “If I could have, I would. What happened to him?”
Ianto licked his lips and flattened his palms on his thighs. “He died.” He saw the look of sadness on the Captain's face and felt a flicker of gratitude towards him. “I wish you could have met him, sir. He would have liked you, I'm sure.”
“I'm sure the feeling would have been mutual.” Harkness sighed and stood up, stretching his back and flexing his shoulders. “I'm sorry for your loss, Ianto.”
“Thank you, sir.” He leaned into the gentle touch on his shoulder, and couldn't settle back into the work after Harkness disappeared into the darkness again.
Next chapter
Chapter Title: Trapped by Torchwood part 5
Challenge/Fest: LongliveIanto cliché bingo
Prompt: Timelord!Ianto
Rating: G
Dedication:
Summary: A young Timelord crosses paths with Torchwood, and his life is forever changed.
Characters: Ianto Jones, Jack Harkness and OCs. Mentions of the Doctor
Contains:
Disclaimer: Torchwood and its environs, occurrences and persons belong to the BBC. The original characters have disowned me.
Ianto looked around carefully before he put his entry code into the archives door. Anyone who checked the records would see that he'd been here, but he didn't want anyone to disturb him right now. He didn't really expect anyone to be around at this time of night, but there was always a chance that one of Harkness's team would be working late, or that UNIT would have sent someone in to get information that Harkness wouldn't let them have during the day.
It was a week since the Battle of Canary Wharf, as UNIT were calling it, and most of the survivors hadn't stepped back into the building after they'd finished identifying the dead. They'd only found six other survivors around the building, three of them in an upper corridor where they'd been waiting to be converted into cybermen before their guards had been ripped from the world by the Doctor's actions. They and most of the others had been whisked away to UNIT's first class rehabilitation clinic in Switzerland to begin healing, and only a few hardy souls clung on here to help with moving the archives.
Harkness wasn't cruel. He was snappish and brusque to the UNIT troops who were helping with the move, but to Ianto, Lisa, Anton and Brendan he was gentle, treating them with kid gloves and careful words of encouragement and support. Ianto wasn't used to it, which was a depressing thing to realise, and he just needed some time alone in the archives to recover his routine. He left the lights off, knowing his way through the archival shelves without having to see by now, and settled down at his desk.
It was easy to settle into the work, going through their database and updating the Torchwood Cardiff database with the information on the items that had been sent over there. The others had been going through the shelves and packing things away into crates and boxes for Jack's teammate to take back with her at the end of each day, but Ianto was, as always, confined to a desk. No one seemed to have considered moving him anywhere else, for which he was glad. He'd had enough upheaval.
Someone stirred in the darkness behind him and he stilled, well aware that the clattering of his fingers on the keyboard would have given him away. The lights came on above him, shockingly bright for a moment before his eyes got used to them, and when he'd acclimatised he recognised the figure standing over him as Harkness. Ianto licked suddenly dry lips and hid his hands in his lap. “Sir.”
“What are you doing here?” Harkness leaned over him to look at his work, and Ianto was surrounded by the smell of him – it was natural, clearly obvious to Ianto's acute senses even if the rest of the team envied his aftershave, and said more about the Captain than he'd be comfortable with Ianto knowing. “You're working on the database at this time?”
Ianto shrugged, uncomfortable with Harkness's close proximity, and went back to the entry he'd been working on. “Couldn't sleep, sir,” he answered quietly. “It's all a bit...”
Harkness rested a surprisingly gentle hand on his shoulder, and Ianto felt both of his hearts beating faster with fear of discovery until Harkness moved away to sit in the other chair. “I know that feeling,” he sighed at last. “It's a bad business, Ianto.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You don't have to call me that,” Harkness chided gently. He grinned then, although it didn't meet his eyes. “I kinda like it, though. Maybe I should get the others to call me sir, too.”
“I think more than one of us calling you sir would go to your head,” Ianto teased, then realised what he'd done. “Sorry, sir...”
“Don't worry about it.” Harkness dismissed the teasing and leaned back in his chair, lacing his hands together behind his head. “Brendan said you learned from the Archivist?”
Ianto's hearts raced again, and he nodded carefully, not lifting his eyes from the screen in front of him. “He was a good teacher.”
“I'm sure he was.” Harkness didn't move from his position, but he seemed to deflate a little. “I wanted to meet him, but they wouldn't allow it. They never trusted me enough.”
“They never trusted anyone enough,” Ianto told him, trying to be reassuring although he wasn't sure why. “Would you have helped him to escape, if you could have?”
Harkness sighed sadly. “If I could have, I would. What happened to him?”
Ianto licked his lips and flattened his palms on his thighs. “He died.” He saw the look of sadness on the Captain's face and felt a flicker of gratitude towards him. “I wish you could have met him, sir. He would have liked you, I'm sure.”
“I'm sure the feeling would have been mutual.” Harkness sighed and stood up, stretching his back and flexing his shoulders. “I'm sorry for your loss, Ianto.”
“Thank you, sir.” He leaned into the gentle touch on his shoulder, and couldn't settle back into the work after Harkness disappeared into the darkness again.
Next chapter