Title - Hunting Revenge
Chapter 1 - The lookout
Spoilers - all episodes up to Countrycide
Ships - Jack/Ianto. Gwen/ Owen
Warnings - mildViolence, light slash
Genre - Hurt/comfort/Drama
Disclaimer - Torchwood and it's characters belong to Russel T Davis, The BBC etc. They are being borrowed for mere entertainment value and the fact I got a plot bunny that wouldn't leave me alone.
Not much talking, but please bare with me. Just setting up the story.
Chapter one
The keys jingled in his hands as he locekd the door to his pristine appartment. Neighbours hardly knew him, frequently asking his name. Then they compain about the odd hours, the minor disturbance and his over politeness. This was all in vain of course. Nothing could ever be done about it. He was practially never home.
He'd get the odd letter about it through the door. Some long and rambling letter or a short note just to satisfy Miss Pilkins, his batty neighbour on the left. He was constantly having to fend off her precious little cat that always watched his front door. One time he even felt like it was spying on him.
He smiled to himself as he quielty made his way down the stairs. He was careful not to echo. He took immense pride in his ability to slide up to people - much like MIss Pilkins freaky cat. The downside was that people never noticed him when he wanted them to.
He was always invisible.
Except to Jack. sometimes. Other times he'd be so busy with everhting else that poor lonely tea boy was completely forgotten about. He usually tried to make up by buying him his dinner or lettign him off early. Not that he wanted to leave. He had no one to go home to.
He got alot more attention that he ever did before. Often he thought Jack was afraid that he'd go off the rails or something. Ianto knew he was still being watched over the Lisa incident. To be honest he liekd the attention. The odd wink and coy smile was enough to remind him, he would infact be missed should he just drop dead. But he hated the reason for the attention.
Lisa.
And sometimes he wanted to die. The grief for his girlfriend hung over him like a shroud. death was everywhere in this job. You quickly learned no one was safe - not even in the hub. He was proven that.
the smile slid from his face as he rembered: the screaming and the pain was so loud and strong. He had refused to eat for a week utnil Jack and Owen forced mush down his throught. He was refused to look anyone in the eye for two whole weeks until Captain Harkness sat him down and told him to move on - ordered was more accurate.
He glanced at the letter in his hand. "Mr Jones" and his address was scribbled on the front. Ianto shoved it in his pocket as he stepped out into the sopping wet street. The world was silent. In the semi-darkness, indisticnt shapes could be seen emerging form no where in the distance before morhping back into the grey.
Ianto didn't life far from the hub, a mere coincidence. it had infact been his sister's appartment before she sold it to him. That was before she dissappeared. The occassional scribbled, messy letter found it's way into his possession. The distinct lack of neatness irked him but he treasured it all the same. She was the only family he had left. Not that he told anyone. No doubt she was telling him soem interesting fact about a place of thing he'd never heard of. she used to always tell him random facts.
A mine of useless informatin.
She used to get soo mad when he called her that. Ianto smiled at the memory, her voice floated in his mind. "They are not useless!"
He glanced around before leaving the entering the Tourist Information Centre.
He stood in the eold. The Bitter chill gusted by him. his trouser legs flapped annoyingly at his ankles. In one hand he held a radio. the other was empty. He watched an appartment buliding, nothing the lonely light 3 stories up. That was 5am. Now, an hour and a half later, the bulb had gone out. He got excited, squirming in anticipation. When the figure emerged he shoved his hand in his mouth and bit down whilst jumping silently. Teeth marks indented his skin.
"Kyle, he leaves at 6.30am. Shall I pursue?"
Silence. "No. No, not yet. Let him squirm as he feels your eyes on him."