((Hello all, welcome to my next big project! I decided that I really enjoyed playing with the show's ambiguity in my last story "Squared" so I decided to continue on the same vein here. This go around will focus on the complexities of Gwen and Ianto's relationship with eachother as well as their competing affections for Jack. While I can't claim to love Gwen, I do believe that, in vilifying her, we lose the chance to explore the depths of her relationship with her teammates. So this will not be a Gwen-Bash. Also, this is something of a follow-up to Squared, but you don't need to read it to understand what is going on here.
I also owe SarahCat1717 and tomchyk an incredible amount of thanks for being incredible and helping me polish my rough ideas into a coherent piece. I don't know what I would do without them.
Please enjoy, and let me know what you think. Remember, I live off of reviews, favorites, and follows, so please don't let me starve. Hahaha. ))
Chapter 1: A Prison without Bars is Still a Prison
xXx
Was it always so cold?
Gwen shivered and looked up; the others were long gone, trying to get some rest after that fiasco of a mission. The Hub had never felt so cavernous and Gwen was painfully aware of each and every nook and cranny—all empty, all devoid of his presence.
She had gotten so used to it. He was forever popping around a corner, striding through the corridors as he flipped through some file or another, or dragging one of them (usually Tosh or Ianto) into the bowels of the Hub on yet another maintenance mission. With him, this place seemed eccentric, exciting… a collection of curiosities and gizmos and technology that boggled the mind. But without him, the molding walls, the dank floors, and the rusted metal all became glaringly apparent. Without him, the magic of the Hub drained away and Gwen saw the place for what it was— a prison.
They were all broken, she realized. Inmates bound to their jobs, paying their dues for the ultimate crime of being curious enough to keep poking at the hornet's nest. But just how long are the sentences? How long do they continue toil for the man who abandoned them?
She shook her head, hoping to clear out the thoughts inside. No place for such thoughts. If she wanted to get home before dawn, she had to put the finishing touches on her proposal. She sighed and narrowed her aching eyes against the iridescent glow of the computer. How long had she been there? In the Hub time seemed to be a very fluid thing and Gwen wasn't sure if it was due to a lack of outside windows or the rift. Her legs felt like lead, dangling helplessly off the edge of the stool. Her eyelids clamored for sleep, for the chance to just close for a few precious hours. She doggedly typed in another sentence—not long now. Perhaps she'll see her bed for the first time in nearly a week.
Above her, Myfanwy screeched and suddenly took flight. In the quiet, Gwen could hear the beat of her leathery wings against the air. Blasted bird. No matter how long Gwen had been there, she could never get used to their guard dog.
"Shouldn't you be asleep?" Gwen muttered looking up, her eyes burning as they struggled to adjust to the darkness.
"I could ask the same of you," came a voice she hadn't expected to hear. She looked up and, sure enough, Ianto stood before her, a torch in one hand and a toolbox in the other. He must have been in the bowels of the Hub, but somehow his suit had escaped unscathed. Gwen couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy; she could hardly walk down the street without mucking up her shirt or staining her slacks. She had just made her mind up to ask him his secret when he cleared his throat pointedly. It was only then that Gwen realized she'd been staring directly at him blankly since he'd stepped in.
"Is there something I can help you with?" Ianto asked, already moving towards Tosh's desk.
"No, sorry." She flushed and turned back to her computer. Ianto had steadily avoided any one- on-one contact with her since Jack disappeared; it only made sense that he would continue to do so. Above them, Myfanwy settled on a roost, crunching happily on what she sincerely hoped was chicken.
"She must have found a rat," Ianto said blithely as he moved by, each motion smooth and carefully controlled. Gwen couldn't help but watch with amazement; the rest of them had been steadily falling apart the last few weeks, and yet Ianto's composure had remained just as unruffled as his suits.
"A rat?" she replied, her stomach flipping as she stared at his back. If he noticed her scrutiny, he didn't let on. He was busy pulling out tools from his kit and setting them out methodically, as though he was planning on performing an operation.
"Most likely," Ianto replied and she could definitely hear fondness in his voice. Gwen had never figured out why, but he always had such an attachment to the reptile. Listening to him talk about her, Gwen couldn't help but think that he was talking about a pet Pomeranian, rather than a Pteranodon that could quite easily kill them both. Ianto turned around and picked up a rather intricate looking machine off of Tosh's desk.
"You let her catch rats? Isn't that… I dunno… unsanitary?" Gwen asked. Ianto didn't even look up from the bit of alien tech in his hand.
"She's been eating them since she got here. Jack likes it. Says she's the best mouser he's ever found; the Hub's never been so pest free. And –unlike some of Jack's other ideas- she doesn't accidentally flood the lower levels with hydrochloric acid." Ianto's brow creased as he turned the machine over in his hands, searching for something that only he could see. "Besides, we have the cure for just about any malady she can pick up on earth."
Perhaps it was just that Gwen had worked at Torchwood too long, but she didn't even blink at Ianto's rather bold declaration of Torchwood's abilities. Instead her exhausted mind latched onto only one thing. Jack. He said Jack's name so easily, as though the man had simply gone out for coffee. The rest of them hadn't even been able to mention his name aloud, and yet Ianto spoke so casually…
"Are you even human?" Gwen froze, not sure she'd even said it aloud, and prayed that she hadn't. She saw the boy straighten, his back a ramrod under his suit jacket. His hands fell limply from the table, catching the torch and sending it bouncing and rolling along floor in a series of metallic clunks. He seemed to take no notice of it, made no motion to retrieve it. Instead he stood perfectly still, his back still to her.
"You really should get some rest," he finally replied. Something in his tone made her shiver. It was obvious that he had no intention on carrying on any additional form of conversation with her that night.
"Ianto, what—why have you been avoiding me" she blurted out, just as he turned to leave. "It's okay to talk sometimes." He turned his gaze back to her, his eyes smoldering darkly, defiantly, from the gloom. She hadn't seen that look since Lisa.
"We have nothing to talk about." Ianto said in a measured voice. He grabbed something from the desk and pocketed it, his hand remaining curled around whatever object he'd just appropriated. There was a strange finality in his voice that settled uncomfortably in her chest.
"Ianto—" Gwen got up too fast and immediately wheeled about drunkenly before she managed to latch onto the desk. "Ianto, listen it's not—"
"Go home, Gwen Cooper."
And just as quickly as he had appeared, Ianto Jones was gone, leaving nothing more than the sounds of his shoes as they echoed down the hall.
Gwen yearned to go after him, to force him to listen, but her body just didn't want to react accordingly. She staggered before crashing backwards into her desk, sending her cup, still half full of coffee, crashing to the ground.
Gwen Cooper followed a second later.