Interdependent - Chapter One

Author: Milady Dragon

Disclaimer: I don't own either Torchwood or Stargate SG1. I do have the DVDs though.

Author's Note: I started this ages ago over on Livejournal for the Long Live Ianto Non-Anniversary Challenge, but never finished it. The prompt was from madbottoms: "A crossover with Stargate, where Ianto didn't die as quick on Day Four, and it was a bit slower, and for some reason he's beamed away by SG1 or the Atlantis team, where they have a Tok'ra symbiote in need of a host. This will give Ianto an extended life of a thousand years at least."

The story is slightly different from the prompt. Hope you enjoy now that it's finally done!

Consciousness came back slowly, and the first thing Ianto was aware of was that he was alive…something that he hadn't even considered he'd be after the alien virus had been released in Thames House.

The second thing he noticed was the humming.

His eyes felt as if the lids were glued closed. Ianto managed to pry them open, then promptly shut them again as the overhead light slammed into his retinas. He moaned, wanting to ask whoever was humming to turn off the light, but only a pained croak came out.

The humming stopped. "I'm sorry," a soft, female voice with a strange sort of undertone said, "but I'm not able to turn it off. I wish I could, because your head feels as if it were imploding."

What? The voice sounded like it was in his mind…

"I am in your mind," the voice answered. "Once again I have to apologize; it wasn't exactly by choice."

Ianto wondered if the alien virus had somehow driven him insane.

"No, you're not insane. I don't mean to be here, but if I hadn't you would have died. Oh, I'm Ges'ryth of Palidor. And you're Ianto Jones. I would say it's a pleasure, but I suspect we both wish it were under better circumstances."

An alien, then. Of course.

"To you, yes. I am an alien. Apparently you've had plenty of experience with otherworldly races. This is certainly a plus in your accepting my presence."

Ianto opened his eyes once more, this time the light not hurting as badly. He was laying on something hard, and levering himself up on his hands he could see that it was a concrete floor that was his current bed.

He recognized it immediately.

It was a UNIT holding cell. And he was wearing the standard orange jumpsuit, his feet bare on the cold concrete.

He was alone.

"I am a symbiote," Ges'ryth answered, sounding almost apologetic about it. "I am inside you, which is why you can hear my thoughts."

Ianto shivered, fear and anger flooding through him in equal measure. He wanted it out –

"I cannot leave, not without dying. Well, there's a ceremony among the Tok'ra that would remove me without killing me – "

Tok'ra? Ianto knew that race, from the Archives…Goa'uld?

"Please," Ges'ryth said disdainfully. "I'm not a power-mad maniac, thank you very much. While the Goa'uld and the Tok'ra might have once shared a common ancestor, I can assure you I'm not going to go insane and try to take over the world."

"Or take over me?" he managed to croak.

"It might be best if you talked to me in your head. I'm not sure you want our captors to know we can communicate so easily."

The voice – Ges'ryth – had a valid point. Chances were, they were under surveillance at that very minute.

"Thank you. And no, I'm not going to take you over. As I said, I'm not exactly here by choice, but I couldn't let you just die like that."

He wondered how she'd gotten there. Hell, he wondered how he'd gotten there from Thames House.

"We were on my way to a meeting on the Jaffa Free Homeworld when a strange golden light engulfed our tel'tak and we crashed here."

We?

"Myself and my former host, Teslin." Ges'ryth's tone saddened. "She was critically injured when our ship was destroyed. I could not heal her, she was wounded too badly. She had been with me for a hundred years, and I shall miss her."

Ianto could feel her mourning, but didn't say anything, just letting her feel his own sympathy.

"Thank you, but I see you're not a stranger to loss as well."

Ianto snorted into his knees. He really wanted to meet the person who hadn't lost something in their lives.

The golden light though… taken by the Rift, then.

"That is what these soldiers have said. It threw us halfway across the galaxy, since this is apparently the Tauri homeworld. I have had very few dealings with the Tauri, but I am familiar with Stargate Command. These though…they are not affiliated with the SGC, or they wouldn't have held me prisoner, then practically forced me to blend with you."

He explained UNIT to her, and judging from her snort she wasn't impressed.

He wondered again how he'd gotten there. The memory of Jack's tearstained face came back to him, and he felt his heart constrict. Jack must have thought he was dead, or else Ianto wouldn't have ended up a prisoner of UNIT.

"I am sorry." Ges'ryth's thoughts caressed his own, in what felt like a mental hug. "And no, I don't know how you got here. All I know is, I was taken from the tank they were holding me in, and told that if I didn't blend with you, you would die. I think they believed I was one of the Goa'uld, which of course meant they purposely arranged a blending between an aggressor species and one of their own. Even though you were dying, there was no excuse for that."

There was something Ges'ryth wasn't saying, and Ianto called her on it.

"Um," she sounded embarrassed, "well, I thought if they believed I was a Goa'uld, that it might give us a chance to escape. If we can get to Stargate Command, they can arrange for transport to my home and then I can be removed safely. I promise you, Ianto Jones, I only wish for us to escape. I would never force you into accepting my presence permanently."

He had to admit, it was a good plan.

"Thank you." Now she sounded smug.

Ianto would have rolled his eyes if his head didn't hurt so bad.

"Do you think you'd feel comfortable enough to give me just enough control to convince them that we're insane world conquerors?"

He really didn't have much choice, did he?

"Of course you do," Ges'ryth answered. "I would never do anything that you don't want. The Tok'ra believe in full sharing; it's the Goa'uld who completely take away their hosts' free will."

Ianto's resolve hardened. He had no idea how he'd survived Thames House, but he knew damned well he didn't want to spend the rest of his life in a UNIT holding cell. And, if this act could help them escape, then he was all for it.

And then, he could find Jack. Jack had contacts within the SGC; he'd taken calls from a General Landry for Jack on a couple of occasions, and there was also a General O'Neill that Jack had apparently known as well.

Letting Jack know that he was alive was also a bonus.

"Your plan is also sensible," Ges'ryth said. "I have heard of General O'Neill and he is much respected among my people. And you must get back to your loved one."

Ianto did roll his eyes then. That just sounded so cheesy…

"Cheesy…is this a good thing, or bad?"

He showed her exactly what 'cheesy' meant, causing the symbiote to laugh.

"I do believe you and I will get along well, Ianto Jones."

He certainly hoped so, since it looked as if they were going to be sharing his head for a bit.

"Thank you for allowing me to share. You could have disagreed with it."

There really was no point, when they could just as easily work together. After all, they both wanted to escape.

"Very true. Now, perhaps I should get my inner…what is the word? Diva?" At Ianto's agreement, she went on. 'Then it's time I get my inner diva on. I quite like that word! I think we can learn a great deal from each other."

There was a sudden, very strange disconnect in Ianto's head. His body began to move on its own, and he stood as if his brain wasn't, in fact, sloshing around in his skull. Despite it feeling so very wrong, somehow he knew that, if he wanted to take back control, he could. So, he let Ges'ryth do what she wanted, and decided to take a back seat and watch.

"I demand to speak to whoever is in charge!" The voice that came from his throat was his own, but there was that strange tone under it that he'd heard in Ges'ryth's mental voice. "How dare you keep me in here! Do you not know who I am?"

Ianto laughed internally at just how pompous that sounded.

Ges'ryth joined in the silent laughter. "I've never had the chance to portray a Goa'uld dignitary before. Even if it doesn't get us very far, I must say I think it's going to be fun!"

They stood there for a few minutes, Ges'ryth yelling at random moments, demanding to be let out of the cell. Ianto figured there would have to be someone monitoring them, and adding in the time it would take to get a commanding officer in to give orders for them to be collected, someone should be coming in just about…

"STAND AWAY FROM THE DOOR," a robotic-sounding voice ordered.

Ges'ryth had them take two steps back, putting their hands on their hips – it was interesting that Ianto was already beginning to think of his body as belonging to them both – and they waited, the symbiote making their foot tap in a show of impatience. The door opened, and two UNIT guards were waiting on the other side, weapons drawn.

They were looking a bit nervous, and Ianto couldn't help but chuckle. Apparently they really didn't trust Ges'ryth.

"The reputation of the Goa'uld precede us," she said.

They stared down the soldiers. "Take me to your leader," they said imperiously, looking down their nose at the pair.

Well, that was about the biggest cliché in science fiction…

Ges'ryth was puzzled. "I don't know what you mean."

Ianto showed her as they were led down the corridor of what looked like a bunker. Cell doors flanked them on both sides, and Ianto wondered just how many people were being held within. He remembered Toshiko saying that Jack had saved her from just such a cell, and he found himself wishing his lover would suddenly appear in a flash of greatcoat and bustle them away.

"That is a nice wish," Ges'ryth said, "but the reality is we shall need to get ourselves out of this ourselves."

Ianto couldn't disagree.

They were marched down the corridor, through a set of doors that wouldn't have looked out of place in a missile silo, and into what looked like a bunker. Harsh overhead lighting irritated Ianto's eyes, and it was only Ges'ryth's control over their now-mutual body that kept him from rubbing them. The pain though was subsiding, and he was grateful.

"A symbiote can heal their host fairly quickly," the Tok'ra explained. "It was the reason they wanted me to blend with you – was to heal you from whatever it was that had caused your near death. I should be able to heal pretty much everything, as long as it's not catastrophic and I have a bit of time."

That was good to know, but then Ianto had no intention of getting hurt if he could avoid it.

Ges'ryth chuckled. "I'm glad to hear it. Now, let's face whoever is holding us here against our will, shall we?"

There was a door just off the corridor, and the guards forced them through it. Ianto and Ges'ryth found themselves in a plain office, with metal filing cabinets along one wall, and a desk taking up the other.

The man sitting behind it was a colonel, and Ianto communicated that to Ges'ryth as she moved them right up to the desk, standing tall and crossing their arms across their chest. They looked down at their captor, and Ianto could feel their face twist is disdain. "You are the leader here?" Ges'ryth demanded haughtily.

The UNIT colonel looked up at them just as haughtily. "I'm Colonel Dexter," he answered. "You're my prisoner, I suggest you remember that."

"My people will be looking for me," Ges'ryth said, "and they will not take kindly to the treatment I've been receiving."

Dexter smiled, and Ianto would have shivered from its malice if his autonomic functions hadn't been subsumed under Ges'ryth's consciousness. "I think you'll find it might be very difficult for them to trace you, since you came through the Rift."

Ges'ryth snorted. "Please. This is the Tauri homeworld, and the Goa'uld are quite familiar with it. I can assure you, they won't be intimidated by you or anyone else. They have weapons you won't have even dreamed of."

Ianto could tell she was speaking the truth. It was as if he somehow had access to her knowledge; he could immediately recall ships and weaponry that he'd never seen before. "There is a reason it is called Blending," she said mentally. "We can share knowledge easily. I choose to share this with you."

Ianto, in turn, opened his mind to her, to show her what he knew of UNIT and their weaponry and procedures. She thanked him.

Dexter didn't seem all that intimidated. "I want to make you a proposition."

"What can a proposition from a Tauri mean to me?" Ges'ryth demanded.

"You owe me. I got you that body, after all."

A smile curved their lips. "It's quite a nice body, I do admit. Although I had to work very hard to make it…livable."

"I chose that body for you, for a reason," Dexter said. "The first being, he was the only survivor of a devastating virus, and you were our chance to revive him. Hell, we don't even know how he survived."

Ges'ryth nodded their head, but said nothing. Ianto listened carefully, surprised that he'd been the only survivor. Of course, Ges'ryth had said he wouldn't have lived without her intervention, so whatever had kept him alive hadn't been guaranteed.

"You were very close to death when I blended with you. Truly, you would not have survived much longer."

"I think you owe me – "

Ges'ryth laughed. "I owe you? I think you underestimate your contribution, little Tauri."

She was quite a good actress.

"Thank you." He could practically feel the mental blush. He only hoped it didn't show on the outside.

Dexter looked distinctly unhappy. "It seems that the rumors of Goa'uld hubris aren't much exaggerated, after all."

"Why should we exaggerate? We are worshipped as gods."

"Well, you're not a god here," the colonel snapped. "You're a prisoner."

Ianto felt their mouth widen in an unnatural smile. "If you say so."

Dexter actually shivered at it.

"So," Ges'ryth drawled, "how do you think I owe you? Perhaps if the answer is good enough, I'll do as you ask."

"You owe me for the body you have."

Ges'ryth pretended to consider, but she told Ianto that she had no intention of doing anything that Dexter asked. Ianto thought that was a good idea.

"True," she finally said, "although from your earlier comment you only offered it to me in order to save it."

That had been the impression that Ianto had gotten, as well. He wondered what made him so important that a UNIT colonel would somehow get him away from Jack and Gwen, and then risk implanting an alien inside him.

"That is an excellent question, my friend…although I think you were worth saving."

It was Ianto's turn to blush mentally.

"True," Dexter admitted. "But I propose a trade: your freedom, for certain information from your host." He steepled his fingers, watching them closely. "The young man you find yourself inhabiting is from an organization known as Torchwood; and is, in fact, their Archivist. I need to know what's in his brain…about his organization, what aliens he's been in contact with, alien tech he's had access to…and about his boss, a certain Jack Harkness. You give me that, and I'll make certain you have your freedom."

Ianto was shocked…but more than anything, he was outraged. UNIT hadn't saved him because it was the right thing to do – although he'd already suspected that wasn't the case – but because of his work in Torchwood, and his relationship with Jack. He wanted to reach across that desk and kill the bastard, for using both himself and Ges'ryth in such a way.

"Let me handle this," Ges'ryth said, and he could hear the same outrage in her mental voice that he, himself, was feeling.

Suddenly, Ges'ryth laughed, a horrible, almost mad sound. "Oh, little Tauri, you truly know nothing about the Goa'uld! If you did, then you'd have known that when we merge with another, there is nothing left of the host. Nothing at all. I cannot give you what you want because it doesn't exist any longer. You have managed to get on the bad side of a Goa'uld for nothing."

Dexter actually paled. "Nothing is left?" he stammered, obviously in shock.

"Nothing, fool. The Goa'uld have no need for host memories. You have failed in what you'd hoped to achieve." They leaned forward. "How does it feel?" Ges'ryth asked, sounding gleeful.

Ianto wondered if that was true, that the Goa'uld actually erased their hosts' minds…

"No. They like to think they do, but the host is still in there. I wasn't about to use your knowledge to gain our freedom, though. We'll find some other way out of here."

He was horribly grateful. There had always been a bit of bad blood between Torchwood and UNIT, simply because on British soil Torchwood had jurisdiction, and UNIT didn't care for that one bit. If Ianto was thought of as dead…then they could do whatever they wanted to, use him however they wanted. No one would come to find him; no one would know what was being done to him.

It was just him and Ges'ryth now. Her act wasn't going to get them out, but at least it had stopped UNIT from trying to wring him dry of everything he'd learned since joining Torchwood. Ianto had so many secrets…and they weren't for some UNIT colonel with an ax to grind against Torchwood.

Dexter rose from his chair, anger replacing the shock on his sallow face. "Take it back to its cell," he ordered the two guards.

Ianto could feel Ges'ryth tensing their now-shared body, and he calmed her down.

"You're right," she said, as they dragged them back to their prison. "I would only get us injured by fighting back."

That was true, but also Ianto wanted to lull them into underestimating them. If they suddenly went kung-fu fighter on the guards, which was what he'd felt Ges'ryth was going to do, then they might very lose the prospect of surprise later on.

'Very true," the Tok'ra agreed ruefully. "I already see that you are going to be a good throttle on my…rather impetuous nature, as my mentor was often fond of saying."

Ianto laughed at that.

Ges'ryth laughed as well, even as they were being thrown back into the cell. "I do have a question though: what does this mean, 'kung-fu fighter'?"