Written for Challenge 13 of redisourcolor. Theme: fate/destiny. Words: doff, dexterous, escalator. Sentence: "If you look closely, you'll be able to see a pattern." I'm not really sure of this. The idea was there, but the words, not so much. Could be considered slightly AU, as I don't really know that much about Ianto's childhood.
Ianto was never really one to believe in fate, or that life was pre-destined along certain lines. His faith, such as it was, had long since deserted him and he was more or less convinced that any good or bad that happened, such as slipping on that banana peel, or catching the edge of a shopping bag in the tread of an escalator, or evading capture by Daleks and Cybermen, was going to happen anyway, regardless.
His father, back in the day when he still acted like a father, and less like a drunken prize fighter taking on his next opponent, would take him out to the park for long talks about the Meaning of Life, and their place in the Grand Scheme of Things. Ianto would lie back on the grass and watch him doff his cap before staring up at the stars.
"Why, Tad? Why does bad stuff happen? Why does Mam need to go to the hospital all the time? Why?"
"Son, look… the stars, see? If you look closely, you'll be able to see a pattern. It's all written up there. Our destiny. Everything we do. We can't change it. Your Mam is sick and that's the way it is. That's her fate. You have to learn to accept that, and to accept what comes your way. It just is." His voice was low and serious as he spoke, so Ianto listened carefully. He tried hard to accept, but when a tree branch fell on his bike, crushing it beyond repair, he couldn't help but wonder that if the neighbour had taken the time to prune the dead wood, then he'd still have a bike to ride. When his Tad pushed him a little too hard on the swing and he fell off, breaking his leg, he just knew that if more care had been taken, a fall could have been avoided, or at the least, such a severe injury. Nothing was that fated to happen.
Meeting Lisa - well, some might have said that was fate, but Ianto knew better. He'd planned that one out very carefully. Seeing her across the cafeteria at Torchwood One had quite literally stopped his heart, and he'd laid out a very precise course of action to woo her, starting with a spectacular cup of coffee. He'd been particularly dexterous in his pursuit, with subtle surveillance of her during work hours as well as after, finding out what made her laugh and cry, and where she liked to eat and dance.
His hard work paid off, with Lisa thinking he was just 'too cute' for putting in all that hard work. Turns out, she'd noticed him already, and liked what she saw - she was just waiting for him to make a move. It was something they laughed about often. Their love could be said to be destiny, as it grew and blossomed, but Ianto knew it was because of hard work on both of their parts. Neither of them just coasted by on euphoria, it was a process that had to be worked on constantly. Nevertheless, it was worth every minute - she was worth every minute.
Yvonne Hartman and the fall of Torchwood One - well, if one was fatalistically inclined, they could say that was pre-destined. She certainly didn't do anything to help herself or those poor souls who lost their lives that horrible day. Once again, though, Ianto knew that it could all have been avoided, if only she had listened, both to the Doctor and to Captain Jack Harkness. Those Ghost Shifts should never have been in place. It was a disaster waiting to happen right from the start.
Which rather made the irony of Ianto's current situation that much more poignant, really. Here he was, trying (and finally succeeding) to get into Torchwood Three, using the same methods as he did with Lisa, only this time against Jack Harkness. Getting Lisa out of London and up to Cardiff had been a difficult task, but he was methodical and careful - he knew with the right timing and planning it could be done. Once there, he'd staked out a spot across the Plass to check out the Torchwood Cardiff team, to learn their routine and figure out the best way in.
His first view of Jack Harkness was like déjà vu - his heart had stopped and for a second, he had turned his face to the sky, looking for those patterns his Tad had pointed out when he was young. He'd shaken it off, knowing it was fanciful thinking, and put his considerable brain to work, cooking up a subtle plan of surveillance once more to learn the ins and outs of the charismatic man. The fight with the Weevil and the coffee - he had chalked those up to coincidences, nothing more.
The pteranadon in the warehouse, while certainly different from anything he'd done with Lisa, started him questioning again, whether or not his path was indeed fated. The connection that flared between them was certainly on a par with anything between him and Lisa, maybe more so. Did his Tad have the right of it all along?
Now, with his daily routine set - cleaning up after the team, making coffee, checking Lisa, stealing and administering medication, finding a cybernetics expert, flirting with and fending off the boss, avoiding detection - he was starting to realise that his life was out of his hands. It didn't matter what he did, or what actions he chose, others would always have input, causing his path to veer this way or that - cause and effect, action and reaction. If he wanted, he could look at it as fate, destiny. Alternatively, he could continue on in his belief that shit happens, it's just a case of whether anybody's around to smell it or not.
End