Beverage
I've been neglecting poor Ianto and Jack, directing my creative energies away from the world of fan fiction. But what do you know. I'm back. I hope you like.
Summary: Ianto provides beverages for the Torchwood team. But will it always be so? Short ficlet. This piece references Ghost Machine, Cyberwoman and Adrift.
Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood or any of its characters. If you do, I've got chocolate and I'm willing to share.
Ianto poured the scotch for the team. It was his role. After it was over. Particularly when things had gone bad.
During he would make coffee. Once it was finished, scotch. Or, sometimes, if things went well, beer. Or, even on rare occasions, when things were calm and no one had died, tea.
Each beverage punctuating the circumstances surrounding the Torchwood team.
He liked coffee then scotch. It felt more real. If things went bad, he knew he was alive.
Today it had been bad. Wrapping a blanket around Gwen's shoulders, he had seen the blood still crusted along the bed of her nails. Now she sat, haunted eyes fixed on the middle distance, seeing ghost images that could never be unseen. He knew that look; he'd seen it in the mirror after the battle of Canary Warf. The look of innocence lost.
"Ianto" Jack said without turning his head and held out the ghost device.
"Secure archives" Ianto said taking the device, face impassive, hand shaking slightly. Jack trusted him. Alfred to Jack's Batman. Dependable and invisible. Well who knew what Alfred really got up to? Ianto swallowed his scotch in one gulp.
Ianto stood in the middle of the hub. Gwen, Owen and Tosh had gone home. Jack had disappeared, wherever Jack disappeared to. He liked being in the hub on his own. Enjoyed the cavernous and otherworldly space. But tonight the emptiness scared him. Silent but for the hollow lapping of the tidal pools.
Hands holding the ghost device visibly shook. He cursed his body's betrayal and took a deep breath. He wanted to know, needed to know. Would he find a way to fix Lisa, or would they find her and kill them both? He needed to know. Lights were flashing on the device.
Inexorably his finger pressed the button.
He couldn't move. But there he was, making coffee. Beverages always beverages. But he wasn't dead.
He was wearing suit pants and a purple shirt with no tie. The top buttons undone. This relaxed attire at work surprised Ianto. He never even unbuttoned his jacket. He looked fatter, healthier. Things must have changed. He felt a surge of hope.
He was talking on the phone. From above, Jack's voice called out, "Ianto."
"Night Gwen." his future self said hanging up the phone.
Like Gwen and Owen described he could feel the emotions of the characters in this ghostly play.
From Jack, impatience.
From himself, a pinprick of guilt. He was keeping something from Jack, but it was small, inconsequential. Not Lisa then. New emotions now overtook the guilt. Happiness, anticipation, desire. Desire for who?
"Ianto. Are you coming?" Jack appeared on the gantry above. He was naked.
Lust permeated the air, arising from both Jack and his future self.
"Soon I hope" this alien self replied, picking up the coffees and bounding up the stairs.
Ianto's stomach twisted and he felt bile rise in his throat.
Ianto was alone in the hub. Shaking breath. Hands dropping to his sides.
Scotch. He needed a scotch.
Thank you for reading please review. It keeps the creative juices flowing.