Manifest Destiny

Next part up, I'm on a role! And this one actually has dialogue!

Part 2: Day One

Ianto's mother had once said that it's the little events that shape a universe.

It was just after his father had started to visit. His mother, supposedly immersed in her books, watched this, and when his father had gone always took him aside. It is choices, she would tell him; the greatest power in all of creation was choice, and what a person did with theirs, for good or for ill. Ianto has been too young to understand the gravity of her words, and decades later at the Tower, he was given evidence of it daily. Always selfish, always for ill. It had been Yvonne's choice that doomed the Tower and the hundreds of people within.

It was his choice to save Lisa.

But, as he tends to Myfanwy, he feels for the first time what might be regret.

It's not Lisa; Ianto will never regret anything concerning Lisa. Whatever the outcome, whether he succeeds or fails, he will never regret his choice. Yet, as he hears the laughter of the others, the ease in which they interact, he regrets what he chooses for himself. He could have left; he didn't need the Hub, he just needed to be on the Rift. And even if it makes things easier, he could have made do without Torchwood entirely. But Torchwood was all he knew. Save for the rare instances with Lisa, it was all he had experienced.

He was the slave who, once freed, still returned to his cage.

He's going through the final paperwork dealing with Gwen's recruitment when the phone rings. It's Jack's phone, not the Tourist Office's, and as the others are out at the pub he is the one to answer it. It was one of the bad days; Gwen had released an alien threat which had been the cause of several deaths, his new calibrations for Lisa's life support were fluctuating which caused him to find excuses to keep running to the lower levels in the hope that she still lived, and without her he had been stupid enough to draw attention to himself.

"Just narrow the numbers down, I can check through the rest. (They had stared at him.) You know, the old fashioned way, with my eyes."

He can clearly recall the odd look on Jack's face, half amusement, half speculation. He can recall the way that Jack's attention had strayed is way far too many times that day, and not just when he hungered for coffee or flirtation. Ianto had drawn more than a passing glance.

"You stupid pillock," he sighed as he made his way into Jack's office, folders still held loosely in his hands. With a deft finger he manages to hit speaker-phone. "Torchwood Three, Administrator Jones speaking."

The voice in his ear was jovial. "Ah, Mister Jones! This is your Minister of Defence, how are you tonight?"

Ianto unconsciously straightened. "Mr. Saxon. I'm afraid that Captain Harkness is not in at this time—"

The Minister let out a chuckle, and his voice wraps itself around Ianto. "No worries, this isn't an urgent matter. I really don't need to talk to him. I was just curious how everything was going, I mean, we don't hear enough from Torchwood Three down here in London. How are you?"

There was something in the tone, in the inflection, that struck Ianto as being, off. "I, I'm pleased to say that we're doing well. "

"Hmm, that's good to hear. I mean, after that tragic attack at Canary Warf, and wasn't it just a few days ago that a…Suzie Costello shot herself? My, that's too bad. Seems like a high stress environment. Added on to the training of new personal. You don't get much free time, do you?"

Ianto stiffened. "Sir, you," he stuttered. "You seem to be quite knowledgeable of our state already."

The Minister laughed as if waving the words away. "Do I? Well, I'm just trying to stay informed. Trying to avoid past mistakes and all that. Can't have any repeats."

Ianto found himself struggling to find breath, as if weighed by a great pressure. "No," he managed. "No, we can't."

Again there was that soft laugh, that knowing laugh, and Ianto found he could draw breath once more. "Ah, how foolish of me. Look at the hour! I'd best let you get back to it. Goodnight."

"Goodnight sir," Ianto moved to press the off button when Saxon spoke again.

"Oh, and Ianto? Don't bother telling Jack about this. I'll be seeing him soon anyways."

There was a click and then a dial tone.

With shaking hands Ianto placed the files on Jack's desk and backed out of the office, eyes glued on the phone as if it might attack at any moment. He wasn't sure what bothered him more; the knowledge that he, and Torchwood, was under surveillance or that Saxon knew his name when he had never spoken it.

Unsteadily he made his way through the corridors and to Lisa, his pulse racing in his veins to a familiar beat, and even as he found comfort in it, he knew that there was something wrong. He fell into the room and after re-checking her systems, he curled himself in the sleeping bag next to her and tried to calm himself. His hearts beat wildly, and while he knew-and every instinct screamed at him-that he should tell Jack right away, another part held him back. There's something, he thought, something I'm missing. Lulled by the soft whoosh of Lisa's respirator, he drifted off.

When he awoke, he vaguely remembered that there had been a call, but he couldn't recall from whom. He taps his fingers against the metal side of the cybernetic shell.

Thrum-thrumthrum.

His earwig beeped. "Ianto, how about a cup of your gorgeous coffee?"

"Yes sir, I'll be right there."

It must not have been important.

Alright, everyone comment! I hope that too much wasn't given away, and that introspection and dialogue blended okay.

And that my Master voice was passable; he's atough one towrite. The crazies always are.

And I haft to admit, I getting intimidated: Cyberwoman is coming, and boy, that ep changes everything.

Next: Ghost Machine