Warnings/Spoilers: None in the prologue, perhaps in other chapters - I don't know, I ain't written 'em yet.
Pairings: Jack & Ianto, Owen & Tosh - none for poor Gwen (bless!)
Characters: Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, Gwen Cooper, Owen Harper, Toshiko Sato. Various characters from fiction – some of my own, and some I've borrowed.
Disclaimer: I do not own or control or have any influence over the Torchwood characters (mores' the pity!). That pleasure belongs to the BBC. Any other brand names or entities belong entirely to their owner/originator, and have been borrowed lightly for plot purposes.
AN: Aiming for general with a touch of humour, please advise. I may attempt angst in other fics, but not this one. Drama for sure, but no angst ;-) Also not so keen on AU, so it'll be fairly canon in terms of what we know about the characters and their personalities. Constructive criticism is always appreciated.
Prologue
Torchwood wasn't always about dashing after Weevils and preventing the Rift from bursting open and unleashing bedlam.
Reports needed to be written and submitted. Invoices needed raised and budgets needed reconciled. Maintenance schedules needed to be followed.
Monday's team meeting went through the usual agenda items, Ianto diligently taking the minutes in shorthand. Owen tended to loll about like a bored schoolboy during the routine stuff - a necessary evil he understood, but not something he'd willingly participate in. Under "Any other business" Jack smiled mischievously and uttered a dreaded word. A word guaranteed to strike fear into the most dedicated Torchwood operative.
"Inventory" he drawled.
Tosh quickly looked up from her PDA where she'd been scribing with the stylus. Gwen glanced at Jack, to confirm she'd heard right, and then looked at Ianto - who was smiling like the cat that had got the cream.
"You what?" barked Owen.
"You heard. Inventory, stock take, whatever you want to call it. It needs to be done. We need to make sure that we're fully stocked and fully prepared. We'll do inventory on Friday. And as a special favour you can all wear casual clothes - jeans, t-shirts and the like. In fact, I insist upon it. It's gonna be dirty and messy." grinned the Captain.
Ianto's smirk fell a little. He had thought that their pillow talk had paid off, but he soon realised that as persuasive as he was, and as willing as Jack was, he'd never get all his own way. He resigned himself to the fact that, despite Jack agreeing to the inventory, he was going to have to pay for it.
"Why the hell can't he do it? That's what he's here for, no?" complained Owen, glaring at Ianto.
"He's going to be busy enough on the day, don't you worry, and he'll have the pleasure of going through your inventories and doing the reconciliations and ordering. You guys have the expertise to know what you've got, what you need and what you don't need. Ianto, as knowledgeable as he is, doesn't know everything."
A ripple of laughter ran around the room at Jack's foolish denial of his lover's near-perfect memory.
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Friday rolled around and the team assembled in the Hub. Ianto had prepared thoroughly and had clipboards, task lists and inventory sheets for everyone; he also gave his colleagues a flask of their favourite hot water based beverage.
"I'll be far too busy to keep making you lot coffee all day long - this'll tide you over. And if you're good boys and girls" a pointed look at Jack "you may just get afternoon tea at four o'clock."
Each of the team grabbed their clipboards and settled down to work – not wanting to put off the inevitable any longer. Ianto & Tosh played DJ, sending music wafting through the Hub, it was eerie the way it echoed through the deep, wide spaces within the Hub, but it kept the spirits up during what was a mind numbing task.
At one point in the morning Jack wandered out of his office, about to ask Ianto a question about his list and looked down. On the hub floor below him all was quiet. Tosh was on her hands and knees in the cleaning cupboard, counting up the range of cleaning supplies ("Mr Muscle" and "Mr Steroid" - Jack read). Owen was bopping around the autopsy area, having stripped the medication cupboard bare and was putting everything back in again.
There was no sign of either Gwen or Ianto, but he could hear banging and clattering and swearing coming from the armoury - so that's where Gwen was. Ianto must have popped down to the Archives. Just as Gwen stomped out of the armoury, brushing her hands down the front of her jeans, Ianto jogged up the stairs, clipboard in hand. They were both warm from their exertions and each pulled off their hoodies to cool down. Jack guffawed as he saw what they were wearing underneath.
Both Gwen and Ianto had decided to wear the same t-shirt; the same "Little Miss Bossy" t-shirt. The others looked up as he laughed, and he pointed to towards the Welsh contingent. Owen and Tosh broke up in gales of laughter. Gwen and Ianto smiled tightly at each other; but joined the laughter on realising how daft they both looked.
Jack couldn't decide which of the two of them looked hotter. Gwen's ample bosom was straining against the fabric, and her trim waist was highlighted by the tight cotton. On the other hand, Ianto's shoulders and waist were prominent through the flimsy material. The clincher was the fact Ianto's t-shirt had ridden up and gave a teasing glimpse of a furry treasure trail. This tipped the balance in Ianto's favour. Jack suspected that Ianto was wearing the t-shirt as some kind of protest or punishment of Jack for making him wear casual clothes. Jack couldn't see how it was a punishment - he'd quiz Ianto about that later (and follow the treasure trail!).
The laughter died down and they went back to work - refreshed and smiling.
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After lunch, Ianto called Jack through the intercom. "I've found an unmarked crate down here Jack. I'm bringing it up so we can have a look - can you get the gear together?"
Jack acknowledged and started to pull together the gear. After one too many incidents with unknown objects from the archives or the Rift, the team had come up with some protocols when handling the artefacts. Trial and error had led them to use the x-ray specs that identified if something had travelled through the rift. very long rubber gloves, a welders mask, a long rubber apron, and an aqualung. This tended to protect the examiner - no direct contact, a reasonable defence against solids, liquids and gasses that may be released. They hadn't come up with something to protect the mind yet. Ianto had drolly suggested that they wear a tinfoil helmet.
The rest of the team saw Jack gathering the gear together and started to drift across - they were quite frankly bored, and this looked much more interesting.
Ianto arrived out of the lower levels with a crate held out at arm's length in front of him, like it was a ticking bomb. It didn't look too heavy, and was about the size of a large briefcase. Tosh cleared some space on a work station and Ianto carefully put the crate down.
The hub was silent as they contemplated the crate.
Owen sneezed and they all jumped. "What the hell, Owen?" cried Jack. "It's the dust." explained Owen. "Use a hankie!" complained Gwen.
The crate was dusty but as Ianto pointed out, after a certain length of time the dust gets no deeper. It could have been down there for 5 years or 50.
"Where did you find it?" asked Tosh, whipping out her handheld and running a basic scan.
"It was right at the back of a walk-in cupboard on level 5, that's where I keep the stores of evidence bags and the like. The non-perishable and non-lethal items."
"Have you seen it before?" asked Gwen.
"No, never. That's worrying me. I thought I'd got through everything on that level. I mean EVERYTHING."
"Obviously you didn't then" sniped Owen.
"I am very thorough, Owen, as well you know." retorted Ianto "but the remote possibility exists that I overlooked it.... But even if I hadn't seen it and catalogued it, surely one of my predecessors had? There are no markings, stickers, labels, seals. Nothing. Not a single warning or indication - and that's not like Torchwood."
"Perhaps it's in infrared or ultraviolet ink? Or it's sound based but too low or too high for us to hear?" asked Jack, "Tosh, try scanning."
"I'd thought of that too Jack, I've scanned it on all the spectrums that I know of and there's nothing. It's reading as a wooden crate with leather and paper on the inside. There's a thumb-print electronic clasp holding it shut."
There was nothing left to do but open it up and take a look. Jack pulled on the aqualung, mask, 3D specs, gloves and apron - looking quite sinister when he'd done. Jack waved them all back from the crate, hefted a crowbar and began to prise off the lid; the wood cracked and splintered as the crowbar did its work, and soon the lid was loose. Jack lifted the lid and put it to one side, the others craned their necks to peer inside.
It was a book; a large, heavy looking leather-bound book. Jack picked up the book in both gloved hands and gingerly lifted it out; swivelling on his heels he made to put the book down on the tabletop. Owen and Tosh were on his left, Ianto and Gwen on his right. As he lowered the book down it slipped from his grasp and landed with a thud on the metal surface. They all jumped. Tosh and Owen bumped shoulders, and Gwen grabbed at Ianto's arm in fright.
They all held their breath, and then as they exhaled, there was the amplified sound of a warm hearted chuckle and the THUMP of a heavy book being closed. A visible pulse emanated from the book, radiating outwards.
And then it all went black.
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Now children, are you sitting comfortably? Good, then I'll begin...
Once upon a time...