A.N. Thanks everyone who has put me on an alert, or for the blessed few of you who reviewed. It means a lot to me.
I noticed some of you seemed to like the quotes in the beginning, I can continue that if you want. I own all the Torchwood books so it wouldn't be a problem. Of course I'd make sure they didn't spoil the story too much by giving them to you. Let me know. Thanks for the reviews and happy reading.
Wildfire.
Disclaimer- I do not, obviously, own Torchwood. If I did Ianto Jones would never have died and as thus this story would never have been written.
Unpleasant or Extraordinary
By Wildfire
Chapter one
~**28 years later**~
It was a bright day: one of the few days in Cardiff where not a cloud could be seen in the sky. A light breeze ruffled through the green grass on a forgotten hill.
It was on this hill that a man stood, wearing an old war coat. He looked around with a contemplative look on his face and sighed; it would be odd being on Earth again. He shrugged out of his long coat, and putting it over his arm he headed down the hill.
He would have to walk a few miles before he'd find a phone to call a cab, and that was if things hadn't changed too much in the last 20 or so years. He figured he was probably pretty safe, if anything the town would have grown and he'd be able to get to a phone sooner.
He stuffed his hands into his pants pockets as he walked. It was nice feeling the sun again; on the ships they had rooms with synthetic suns, but it never felt quite the same as being outside in the natural sunlight and warmth. Earth's sun was actually one of the reasons why he adored it so much; it had a great sun.
As he reached the dirt road he smiled faintly, remembering the night Gwen had hauled her very pregnant form up that hill to say goodbye. A pang of regret tightened his chest as he recalled her distraught face. She would most likely put a bullet through his head the moment she saw him— if she was still alive.
He immediately chased that thought from his head. He'd told her to get out of Torchwood. To leave and raise her child in safety. He knew that she wouldn't, but he held onto the fleeting hope that she might have followed his advice. That maybe the child would sway her enough to live a quiet life.
Gwen would be in her late 50's, early 60's now, though he couldn't recall her actual age when he left anymore—33? 34? Maybe only 30? He honestly couldn't remember which just went to make him feel even guiltier. To be fair though, he could never remember anyone's age, it just wasn't something that crossed his mind, and in fact he wasn't even real sure of his own age. Ianto had figured it out for him once, in all of about 10 seconds.
Ianto…
His pace slowed down. He remembered Ianto's age, 25; he remembered Ianto's smile, his smell, his suits, his humor… He remembered Ianto Jones, and he didn't plan on forgetting him—ever. He'd sworn to the man so many times, that he wouldn't just be some blip in Jack's long time line, and Jack was going to ensure that was true. Part of him sometimes wondered if he had perhaps fallen in love with the young man, but a much bigger part of his mind would quickly reject the idea. He didn't think he was entirely capable of love anymore. How could you love someone who died so soon and quickly faded from your life? No, he didn't love Ianto Jones, but he had—did—care for him deeply, and he would honor his memory.
He walked off the dirt track and onto the normal paved road, stopping a moment to look about; it appeared just as he remembered it. Well at least he thought it did, how different could a road look? His head turned when he heard a car coming and he raised a thumb. It was worth a shot at least. The worst that might happen is that they turn out to be psychos who kill him leave him on the side of the road, and he falls a few hours behind. Not really all that big a deal in the great scope of things. Just one more death to add to the tally. The thought brought his memories back to Ianto. The young man had been trying to compile a list of all his different deaths. It had been a tedious, useless task, but Ianto had been convinced it might help something at some point. He had never completed the task of course. The 456 had ended that as they had ended so many things.
His thought pattern stopped as the passing car actually pulled over. He quickly jogged over, opening the door to see three giggling girls. He put on his best grin as he squeezed into the back seat.
The girls, it turned out, were heading into Cardiff themselves, and were more than happy to give Jack a lift. They definitely weren't the most attractive women, but they were passably cute, and Jack had no problem laying on the charm and flirting the whole way into the city. They reluctantly dropped him off near the Millennium Centre leaving him clutching three scrappy pieces of paper each bearing a telephone number. He watched the car drive away, idly wondering what kind of model it was. He'd never seen a car like it, but then after almost 30 years it was inevitable cars were bound to change. Steeling himself, he turned his attention to the large water fountain, wondering if the Hub was even under there anymore. When he'd left they'd been in the process of rebuilding it here, but that didn't mean it hadn't been moved since then. Well, there was no way to know until he tried. He walked briskly over to where the Tourist Office had once been, pulling his coat on as he went. If he was going to return, he planned to do it in style.
As he came into view of the Tourist Office, he slowed down. It had been rebuilt too, a swanky affair of brushed metal and glass. Inside he could see racks laden with the pamphlets and advertisements. It looked like an honest-to-goodness Tourist Office. He slowly pushed open the door, and his fear that the Hub had moved instantly fled from his brain. Behind the desk sat a young woman who was the spitting image of Gwen, even down to the gap-toothed smile she flashed at him. As Jack stepped inside his eyes raked over her trying to find anything of Rhys in the young woman; he couldn't see a thing of the man in her.
"Good day, sir. Are you looking for some information today?" Jack was relieved to hear that she didn't sound a thing like Gwen.
He nodded. "I am actually." He came forward picking up a leaflet on some local fair. "But not for anything in here. I was actually hoping I might see your mother?" His stomach flipped as he waited to hear her response.
"My mother?" She paused and her lips tightened. "I'm sorry my mother passed away a few years back. How did you know her?" She stared at Jack with the same look of mistrust Gwen would use when she thought he was going to do something she didn't like.
Even though he had been half-expecting the news it was still like a punch to the gut.
"I used to work with her," he said unable to keep the tightness out of his voice. That was it then; his team was all officially gone. "Jack Harkness." He held his hand out.
She gave a gasp, eyes wide. "Jack… H-Harkness? THE Jack Harkness?" She was suddenly leaning forward. "The one who ran away after the 456?"
His smile was brittle. "Needed to get away for a bit," he said with a flippantness he didn't feel. "So, who's currently running everything here?"
"I am." A female voice sounded.
Jack spun quickly to see an older woman. Her hair was mostly gray, but freckled with some of the black that it had once been.
"Martha Jones, voice of a nightingale." He grinned. "Look at you." He moved toward her.
"Martha Smith if you remember. I was married." She moved over, pulling him into a tight hug, and then laughed. "You haven't changed a bit. Still looking like a big kid who's about to get into the cookie jar." She pulled him down giving him a small, soft kiss, and then moved away, looking across to the young woman. "I see you've met Katie. She's our receptionist."
Jack smiled warmly back at Katie, who blushed and quickly averted her gaze. Jack was a bit surprised to see her blush like that, her mother had been so face frontal, dive right in; she never seemed to get embarrassed by anything. Apparently her daughter took more after Rhys in that sense.
"Martha…," she whispered, looking sideways at Jack. "David will be back soon with Jordan."
Jack raised an eyebrow. "Are these people I should know about?"
Martha paused, deliberating. "Not sure, it kind of depends on you. Will you be staying here for a bit? Or do you plan to leave after hellos?"
Jack shrugged. "Haven't really made any plans, I suppose I partly wanted to just see how everyone is. See if you even needed my help." He looked around. "Doesn't seem like it though. Pretty posh place you've all made."
Martha smiled. "It is. Of course we could always use some extra hands that are experienced."
Jack nodded hesitantly; 'use an extra pair of hands' was not the same as being needed. He also noticed that Martha seemed to be holding something back; she had the faint trace of being slightly nervous. "Well, I suppose I could stick around for a bit. Check over anything the Rift spits out. See if I can tell you anything you might not know."
Martha seemed to be wavering as she stared at him. Jack was pretty sure he was about to be told the information that was being withheld from him.
She suddenly smiled. "Well, you can meet Jordan now." There was an edge to her voice and he had a sinking feeling that he was about to be tested. He turned around to see a young man, probably in his early 30's, carrying a baby. He entered the Tourist Office eyeing Jack warily. There was something vaguely familiar about him, but Jack couldn't place it. The baby was absolutely adorable, big blue eyes and slightly curly brown hair. He was dressed in tan slacks and a cute light blue button up shirt. The outfit seemed a bit fancy for a child so young. Jack estimated the kid couldn't be older than 16 months old, maybe even as little as 14 months.
"Hello, Jordan." Jack held his hand out to the young man, surprised when the man didn't take his hand and instead gave him a dirty glare.
"I'm David. This is Jordan." He gestured to the baby, which was currently hiding his face in his shirt.
Jack nodded. "Right. Sorry." He glanced back at Martha, and then gave a shrug, moving over and gently taking the small child from the man before he could protest. "So, is he some alien in disguise then? Bet he is, he's too cute to be real." He gently brushed the child's curly locks away from his forehead; something about his eyes was itching at him. "Who's his mother?"
David looked ready to snatch the child back, Katie was gripping her desk and even Martha looked uneasy with Jack just taking the child. He wasn't sure what they'd expected him to do.
"He's human," Martha finally said. "A very special human baby boy, his name is-" She hesitated. "Jordan, he's very smart. He keeps us all on our toes, he does."
Jack turned to look at her. "So what's his full name? Or am I not allowed to know that?" He blinked as a small hand slowly reached up and patted his cheek. He looked back down at the child. "Do you know your name?" The child nodded. "Your full name?" He wouldn't be surprised if all he got from the small child was his first name; that was all Alice would say when she was little. The child nodded again, a bit slower. "Can you tell me?"
Jordan gave a small smile hiding his face into Jack's shirt. Jack smiled in amusement. He really was adorably cute. He was about to hand him over to Martha, but for some reason he wanted to continue holding him. It'd been a long time since he'd held a baby.
David cleared his throat. "Alright, this is bloody ridiculous. Why the hell is he here? He just gets to march in and take over again, is that it?" He glaredat Martha, "We just hand Jordan over to him?"
"David-" Martha started, but Jack held a hand up, stalling her.
"You look oddly familiar; remind me how I know you?" Jack asked, ignoring the man's outburst.
"You were at my Uncle's service, in the back ground, trying to not be noticed. Bit of advice, yeah? Don't wear your bloody war coat when you don't want to be noticed." He stormed past, walking right through what had appeared to be a solid wall.
Martha nodded. "It's like a perception filter, only we can open and close it." She gestured to a picture on the wall. "If the sky is gray then the door's open, if it's blue then it's just a solid wall," she explained.
Jack stared at the wall a moment. "That was Ianto's nephew." He said slowly, realization dawning. "How did he get tangled up in all this?" He looked down at the child, understanding the eyes now; somehow the child had ended up with Ianto's eyes. "It's no wonder he's mad, though really he shouldn't be working here with a child. This is no place for children."
Katie leaned forward. "David is not the father." She giggled a bit, her dark brown hair falling over her shoulder. "Mica works here too. They both started shoving their way in the same time my brother and I did." She came around the desk. "R.J. is my brother, my mother's first child. I was her second and last. R.J. works up in London now with UNIT, so we don't get to see him too much. Tad went up and visited him last weekend though. Um, hmm…" she tapped her chin. "Martha —," she gestured to the older woman, "has a little girl, named Clara. She works in politics. She's a right force to be reckoned with, she is. We lost Mickey at the same time we lost my mam; they died stopping an explosion from wiping out half the city." Her voice died away, the smile fading from her face.
"So this is Mica's child?" He was slightly alarmed at the fact that both Ianto's niece and nephew were involved in Torchwood; he would have to ask Martha why later.
"No." Martha stepped forward taking the child from Jack. "Why are you so sure he's related to Ianto?" she asked softly, kissing the child's forehead.
Jack didn't care to admit that Martha taking the child, bothered him. It shouldn't, it was just some baby. His eyes moved to Jordan's eyes again. Then back to Martha, "Why is there a baby in the Hub anyway?" he asked, choosing to ignore Martha's question.
"His dad is a single parent, and sort of locked into Torchwood. As such Jordan's here too. It's a bit complicated, but it works. We love having him around." She smiled at the baby. "He's the definition of a perfect baby, barely cries, freakin' brilliant and unbelievably adorable. Why wouldn't we want him around?"
"Because it's dangerous here, and in no way a place for a child to be." He reached forward taking the child back, slightly forcefully. "You bring things in that leak radiation, creatures that if they got free for a second, or fired something at him, could kill him." He felt himself glaring at her. It wasn't so much that the child was in the Hub that bothered him; it was more that it went against common sense. When had Martha lost her common sense?
There was jingle as the door opened behind him; he didn't bother turning to see who it was now. He wanted an explanation as to why a baby would be a normal fixture within the Hub.
"You always stick your bottom lip out when you're mad."
The soft Welsh voice hit him like a fist to the gut. Jack turned sharply around, eyes wide at the sight before him. It was an impossible sight. Not improbable or unbelievable, but impossible. There, leaning against the glass door, was Ianto Jones. A perfect, exact Ianto Jones. His stern face and big eyes staring at him, looking no different than he had when he'd last seen him— he still looked 25 and gorgeous.
Before he even knew what he was doing Jack had his gun pulled and aimed at the Ianto lookalike. "What the hell are you? You picked the wrong person to imitate," he growled.
A slight quirk of the lip was the only response Jack got. The child however, started squirming immediately and reached out for the man. Jack tightened his grip on both the child and the gun.
"Jack, put the gun down." Martha commanded. "You and your gun, it doesn't solve everything. Come on down into the Hub and we can explain."
He slowly lowered the gun, but didn't put it away.
The man came over, pointedly ignoring Jack as he pulled the child free with a smile. "Hello." The child giggled, clinging to him. "Did you have fun at the park? Use words."
"Yeah." Jordan whispered looking to Jack. "Who that?"
"That…that is a pain in my arse. Why, do you like him?" The voice said slowly looking up to Jack again, a certain level of uncertainty in his voice.
Jordan nodded.
Jack was stuck staring at the young man, heart thumping louder than it had in years. He realized everyone else had left the room and his hand tightened on the gun. No. Ianto Jones was dead, and even if he had survived he'd be in his 50's. This was not Ianto Jones. He wanted answers. Now.
Wordlessly Jack turned away and vanished through the wall, into the Hub.
