Author's notes:
In an attempt to keep myself sane following the events of Children of Earth, I've decided to write my own first episode of Season Four. Hopefully I can convince myself that this, or at least something remotely similar to this, will happen, and will thusly be able to rewatch old episodes without bursting into tears every few minutes.
I also BEG that everyone reading this joins in the movement to bring Ianto back (just google saveiantojones). I live in America, and will be shelling out big bucks to send some coffee and a birthday card over to the BBC. There is also a very nifty justgiving page that someone has set up where you can donate money in Ianto's name to the BBC children in need charity, which I have also done.
This charity is my personal favorite part of this movement, and I think it will not only show them how much we care about the character, but it will show that we're not just a bunch of angry message board flamers who are in it for the buttsex (and I am not judging anyone will this comment, since I'm also really pissed about what happened. I just know that's how some of the writers are viewing this).
Without further ramblings, this what the next season of Torchwood would look like if I wrote it. I suppose it could be taken as complete, though it would only be the beginning of an actual episode. I may write more if I feel inspired.
Warning: CoE spoilers, obviously. Lots of fluff and Ianto worship. Also no Gwen at all.
Torchwood
Season 4, Episode 1
"The Dark River to Antares"
A screech, followed by Myfanwy flying across the screen.
A rustle of clothes, and the camera pans down to Ianto Jones, lying shirtless on the Hub floor. He's just waking up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
Jack: Did I wake you?
Ianto, after a yawn: Not unless you can turn into a pterodactyl.
Off camera, which is filming from Jack's POV, he pulls his greycoat off the floor and up over Ianto's shoulder.
Jack: It's too cold here. You should go home and sleep. I've got some work to do.
Ianto: Calling it an early morning? [Ianto stands up, putting on the grey coat and pulling on a dress sock, which had slipped off sometime in the night] I'll stay.
Jack: You don't have to.
Ianto, aghast: And leave you to the clumsy ministrations of a Starbucks barista? What sort of devil do you take me for?
The camera, Jacks eyes, follows Ianto's movements as he busies himself with the coffee machine. Jack picks up his mug, emblazed with the words '#1 Boss.'
Jack: Where did you learn how to brew coffee?
Ianto, his back still to Jack: A girlfriend in college who worked in this coffee shop I frequented. Espresso something-or-another. [Ianto walks over and takes the mug, his finger's lingering over Jack's.] I can teach you, if you like.
Jacks other hand reaches from off screen and rests over Ianto's.
Ianto, smiling slightly: Sir?
Clunk of ceramic on table, and the mug hits. It's a different mug, the words Espresso Mio written on it in fancy script. A young waiter pulls his wrist from Jack's grasp. He shoots Jack a strange look.
Waiter: I'm sorry, sir. Were you not finished?
Jack: I'm finished.
Waiter: Thank you. [He snatches up the mug and hurries away, looking over his shoulder once as if to check whether he was being followed.]
Female voice, off screen [Jack sits up straighter]: We're going to miss the movie if we don't hurry.
Another voice off screen, familiar Welsh vowels: I'm almost finished.
Ianto Jones is sitting in a booth in the café, his back to Jack's. Across him is a young brunette who is impatiently fingering the rim of her empty coffee mug.
Female: Just as long as you don't start swilling it around in your mouth and spitting it into the sugar bowl. Again.
Ianto: Oh ha ha. Hilarious. [He drains the mug and stand up, offering her his hand.] Aren't you ready yet?
Female: Hilarious.
She smiles and takes his hand. They leave together. Jack immediately grabs his coat and heads out behind them. Remaining a few paces behind, he watches as they continue to walk, talk, laugh, a pained expression on his face. He stops following, allows them to disappear into the crowd. He starts walking again in the opposite direction, slowly. Before he goes more than a few paces, someone passes by closely. He stops dead in his tracks, eyes open wide. Unconsciously, his hand darts out and grabs the collar of the pedestrian's immaculately tailored suit.
Before Jack could say a word, his companion, a petite Indian woman with short black hair, has his arm twisted painfully behing his back and is dragging him into an alley. No one on the street seems to notice.
The woman: Who do you work for?
Jack, wincing in pain, glances between the woman and man: Ianto?
The woman, turning to the man: Do you know him?
The man: I don't think so. [He steps closer.] Who are you? How do you know my name?
Jack: My name is Captain Jack Harkness.
The woman: Jack…Harkness. The Jack Harkness? The Torchwood Three Jack Harkness?
Jack, eyes never leaving 'Ianto', who didn't seem to recognize Jack's name: So you've heard of me.
The woman: Well you're a bit of a legend. Although, I suppose we all are. My name is Asa Park; I'm the leader of Torchwood Four.
Jack finally breaks the eye contact with 'Ianto' and stares blankly at the woman: Torchwood Four? The Torchwood Four? Shouldn't you be…missing?
Asa: Not really. We move around a lot, so you could say we've been lost on occasion. But never missing. [A pause.] And you seem to already know my associate?
He sticks out a hand. Jack shakes it, and doesn't let go. 'Ianto' raises an eyebrow as his gaze drops to their clasped hands.
Yanto: I'm sorry if I've forgotten our previously made acquaintance. My name is Yanto Jones. I'm an archivist working for UNIT.
Jack: For UNIT? [He drops Yanto's hand, brings his own to his chin.] You're not with Torchwood?
Yanto: I'm a consultant. I don't ordinarily reside in this…time.
Jack: If you don't mind my asking, what time are you from?
Yanto turns to Asa, as if asking her approval for something. She nods slightly.
Yanto: 2007.
Jack: But that's not—
Yanto holds up a hand: I'm also not exactly from this dimension.
Jack opens his mouth as if to speak, but is cut off again, this time by Asa.
Asa: I'm sure you have million questions, but I'm starving and seeing as you're currently in my territory, and thus under my command; would you like to come over for dinner?
Jack: Very much. [His gaze is again fixed on Yanto.]
They walk in silence, until they come to a small cottage, yellow with black shutters and a white picket fence. Asa walks up to the door and presses both palms against it, and whispers something. A seam appears in the middle of the door and both sides swing open with a click.
Asa strides swiftly though the door and shouts in a sing-song voice: We're back, Darling. And I brought a visitor.
Ianto steps in and turns back to Jack: Welcome to Central Command.
The room is impossibly huge. Every bit of wall space, from floor to ceiling, is covered in doors of stair or computer monitors. There is one huge computer station in the center, as well as other ones scattered about.
Jack: A TARDIS…
Asa: I almost forgot that you traveled with The Doctor. Yes, it is a TARDIS. With a functional cloaking device even.
Jack, walking and looking slowly around: But how did you…
Asa: I'm not entirely sure. I assume that a future Torchwood Four member received a piece of TARDIS coral, grew it for a few thousand years, and then brought it back. In any case, I inherited this ship, along with my post. The origins of Cencom weren't part of the record.
Jack: It's beautiful.
A head pops out from a door, about three stories up. An Asian man, in his late twenties or early thirties. He holds a wooden spoon in one hand.
The man: Dinner's almost ready, Darling. Shall I round up the troops? And who is this?
Asa: The visitor. Jack Harkness, this is my husband, Malcolm Park. He feeds us all, and occasionally cleans up around here. But never in our own room, for reasons beyond me.
Malcolm: Oy!
Asa, shouting: And Darling this is Captain Jack Harkness. He works for Torchwood Three.
Malcolm: Fascinating. It is wonderful to meet you, and I hope you like meatloaf, Captain Harkness.
He disappears back into the room. A few seconds later, his voice could be heard again over a loudspeaker system.
Malcolm: Good evening, troops. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes, so please make your ways to the dining room. Thank you.
Jack: He's very polite.
Asa: I think it was beaten into his as a child. He's from the 1920's, see. Picked him up on a mission a whiles back, and haven't been able to get rid of him.
When they reach the dining room, two more people are already sitting at the table and Malcolm is placing the meatloaf in the center. He pulls out the chair for Asa before sitting down himself.
Malcolm: It's wonderful to meet you, Captain Harkness.
Jack: Please call me Jack.
The brown-haired , green eyed girl sitting across from him, speaks through a mouthful of mashed potatoes and a thick Irish accent: The Jack Harkness?
Jack: Torchwood Three. Not so much anymore though.
Asa, asking sharply: What does that mean?
Jack: You haven't heard? The hub was destroyed. My team is…[a glance at Yanto] gone.
Asa: I'm very sorry. I had no idea. We haven't been past 2008 in almost three years. And even then it was actually too far ahead to be relevant.
Yanto: You're still around though? Shouldn't you restore it?
Jack: I'm not around.
Silence for a moment around the table. The brown haired girl swallows loudly.
Hannah: I'm Hannah by the way. Hannah Acton. I'm a weapons specialist.
She elbows the boy next to her. He is in his early to mid twenties, with white blond hair and dark, almost black eyes.
Remy: My name is Remy. I'm the medical officer. [He continues eating.]
Hannah rolls her eyes: He's shy. We only picked him up a few years ago, from New Earth. The year 5 billion. He's brilliant, anyway. Magic hands. He once saved a guy that had been quartered. Well, not a guy in the human sense of course. But he was definitely humanoid.
Jack laughs, but cuts himself off quickly, looking almost surprised. The conversation continues, as well as the eating. Jack stays mostly silent, looking around the table, relishing in the familiar and deeply missed feeling of family. Sudden cut to the whole team; Toshiko and Owen and Gwen and himself, sitting around the conference table, laughing and joking about some four-armed alien he'd slept with. Ianto walks in, carrying two bags of takeout, and everyone cheers.
Back to the dinner table. Remy and Hannah are collecting the now empty dishes and taking them through an open door, beyond which Jack glimpsed a large kitchen. Asa and Malcolm sit at the head of the table, being sickly affectionate.
Asa: Missed you today.
Malcolm: Missed you more.
Yanto: Please, don't mind us.
Malcolm: I'm very sorry, Private Jones.
Yanto: Why don't you two retire for a few hours? You've earned it, and I daresay I can keep Captain Harkness occupied for a few hours.
Jack raises one eyebrow suggestively. Asa whispers something in Malcolm's ear and drags him from the room. Silence falls over the now empty dining room, as the clinking of dishes is heard from the kitchen. Yanto is staring at him, until finally Jack turns away.
Yanto: Do you like coffee, Captain?
Jack: Yes.
Yanto: Shall I make you some now? I've been told I make the best coffee in Wales.
Jack: Please.
Jack follows Yanto back down the stairs and into a small room off of Central Command, where and eerily familiar coffee station has been arranged.
Jack: So what are you doing here?
Yanto: Here Torchwood or here this dimension?
Jack: Both.
Yanto: I was requested by Asa. We met a few years ago, when there was an incident with the Daleks. The Torchwood of my world needed means of interdimensional transport, and upper command at UNIT but them in touch with Torchwood Four. I had to write up the papers for the temporary loaning of one interdimensional cannon, and Asa kept in touch. tThen a few months ago they lost a member of the team; Charles Wilson. He was second-in-command, and their tech guy. He was also in charge of all the paperwork. Long story short, things got backlogged and they needed to call in the reserves. I was the most qualified, and I needed the money.
Jack: Oh.
They fall into silence again, as Yanto continues to bustle around the room, pulling identical mugs down from a small cabinet. Jack can almost see him again, wearing nothing but his grey coat and a pair of argyle dress socks. Yanto places the cups on opposite sides of a small counter flanked by stools.
Yanto: I bet you take your coffee black.
Jack: How could you tell?
Yanto: It's the way you walk.
Jack takes a sip, and closes his eyes with the hint of a smile on his lips.
Yanto: Unlike anything you've tasted before?
Jack: Actually it's exactly like something I've tasted before.
They finish in silence. Ianto takes both mugs to a small sink next to the coffee machine and begins to carefully scrub them clean. Jack picks up a dish towel and dries them, placing them back into the cabinet. They are standing back to back in the tiny room.
Jack: I bet you only take your coffee black when you're drinking it with other people. In the morning though, you'll add some cream to it but never sugar. And sometimes, after dinner, you'll add honey to it. But only with milk, and never cream.
Yanto is frozen, a look of shock on his face, replaced quickly by a stony resolve. He sits down, gesturing for Jack to take the opposite seat.
Yanto: So how did I die?
It is Jack's turn to be shocked. He opens and closes his mouth.
Yanto: Call it morbid curiosity. I could tell from the way you were staring at me. Like you'd seen a ghost. That you knew me, or at least another me. How did I die?
Jack deliberates before answering.
Jack: You died in the arms of a person who loves you very much.
End Part 1.
So there you have it. I found that the writers had made it painfully obvious that they would not be open to bringing Ianto back to life, so I've gone for the next best thing: World, meet Mirror Ianto. Hopefully his existence, if only in my mind, will help me sleep a little better at night.
If I have time, or feel inspired, I may write a bit more. Maybe less fluff and some more action. After all, every season opener needs a bad guy, even if it's playing second fiddle to introducing the new team. Please review if you'd like a bit more, but before you review google saveiantojones. Read the livejournal community, mail some coffee, donate a few pounds to children in need. I think that if everyone contributes a little, we can truly shake up the scene. And maybe see Ianto (or Yanto) again. This is science fiction after all.