Ianto ripped the comm unit out of his ear and dropped it on his desk. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers and sighed. He opened the top drawer and took out the bottle of paracetamol. He chased the two pills with water, wincing at the bitter taste. While he was immortal and immune to illness and disease, he wasn't immune to a stress induced migraine. Can't have everything…
The near Earth object was clearly too small to cause any damage upon impact. Damage was even less likely since it was going to splash down in the middle of the ocean. It didn't matter. The Americans were making Ianto's life difficult anyway. Because they had discovered the object, they were insisting upon collecting it for scientific purposes. Ianto thought that was ridiculous. This object was no different than any other meteor that would fall to Earth and the logistics of collecting it were an absolute nightmare if not a complete impossibility. Unfortunately, now that the Americans were demanding this hunk of space rock, other countries, thinking it must somehow be important, were now vying for it. Poor Ianto had spent all day on the phone, back and forth between UNIT and the Americans and so many other people that he'd had lost track. He couldn't believe they were making all this fuss over a random piece of rock. He leaned forward, willing the throb behind his eyes to vanish. At least, he'd managed to take this steaming pile of shite and dump it right into Ethan Donovan's lap where it belonged. He didn't even feel badly about it.
"Ifan? Are you all right?" Miranda asked, gently.
"Fine," he said, sighing.
"Jack brought me up to date on the object collision," she said, cautiously stepping into the room.
This he could do. He could be professional and civil, and talk about work. "I was trying to mediate the specifics between us, UNIT and the Americans. It's just a piece of rock but everyone wants it for scientific study."
"A random meteorite?" she said, raising her eyebrows in surprise.
Ianto nodded. "The American politicians appear to have seen Armageddon a few too many times. They think studying it will glean them some miraculous knowledge that will help the planet in the event of a real object collision. Bunch of bollocks."
"And with the international waters impact, jurisdiction is problematic," she supplied.
"Which is why I told them that Torchwood appreciated the notice, does not feel the bloody thing is important and told them to have at it." His throbbing head was a testament to the jurisdictional problems.
She cleared her throat. "I need you to clear me for hand to hand."
In the midst of all the bureaucratic idiocy, it had slipped his mind. "Yeah, yeah, give me ten minutes. I'll meet you downstairs."
"Jack tells me you went through combat medic training," she said, extending the olive branch. "Why not medical school?"
"We were short handed," Ianto said, tightly.
He could tell she was trying to ease into a more serious conversation and he wanted to have that conversation but he wanted it to be on his terms, not hers. He was happy she was back, but there were some things that needed to be said and done before he could move forward. "I couldn't afford to be away for so long…"
"Perhaps someday," she suggested.
He snorted at the idea.
"I think you'd make an excellent doctor, Ifan," she said. She pushed aside the small file tray, revealing the list of initials. "You haven't added yours."
Ianto's throat involuntarily tightened when he saw Owen and Cameron's initials. He pushed the files back. He hadn't added his to the list because he didn't feel like they should be there. He wasn't a doctor. He was just a temporary medic. "Someone had to step up. Fill the void."
"I'm proud that you did," she said, beaming.
He saw the olive branch but he wasn't ready to reach for it yet. He stood up and put on his suit jacket. He buttoned it as he walked out of the autopsy bay. "Ten minutes, the hand to hand gym."
Miranda winced inwardly at the awkward space between them. She sighed.
"Give him time," Henry said from atop of the stairs.
"I expected it," she said, waving after Ianto.
Normally, she would address Henry by some honorific, engaging in their playful mock formality. She'd drop a low curtsey for this son of a king to tease him but she could feel the uncomfortable strain between them, too. She braced herself, looked at Henry and said, "Are you going to have a go as well?"
"Like Jack, I have dealt with your silences before, Mao-Lin. They have not," Henry said, descending the stairs. His back was straight, his chin parallel to the floor. Miranda took in the regal posture. So he is going to have a go… She was about to open her mouth but he cut her off.
"This is the age of modern technology. They are accustomed to picking up a mobile telephone to send a text message to stay in contact with those for whom they care. They do not remember a time when a letter could take a year to cross an ocean or months to cross land."
When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he clasped his hands tightly behind his back. "And just because I am familiar with such times and your patterns of behaviour does not mean that I do not find your absences hurtful. You are my friend but first and foremost you are my teacher. So, I say this will all possible respect, Mao-Lin… You behave selfishly. You, of all people, should understand what a great gift these people are - how rare it is to find acceptance of our immortality and the Game amongst mortals. You take their love and acceptance and repay it with indifference. It is a poor way to return such a gift."
Again, he cut her off before she could respond. "You fled Cardiff as if you were alone in the world, but you are not. Here you are surrounded by friends - by family. And yet, you went from this place as if neither existed. Even worse, you did so as if you cared not what you had left behind and without so much as a backward glance or plan to return." He tilted his head slightly. Acrimony was in his gaze though the rest of his face was largely impassive.
"It is a wound that was easily made but not easily mended. You disappoint me," he said, darkly.
Miranda kept her gaze down, ashamed and embarrassed. All she'd been able to think about was herself and her own despair. In the past, she'd left nothing behind when she'd retreated. This time, she'd been so distraught that she'd been blind to the support of loved ones around her. She'd been operating on automatic pilot, repeating behaviours and patterns she hadn't tried to change in centuries.
She took a step forward, holding out her hand. "I'm sorry, Henry. All too often I forget that you are not just my student, but that you are a much valued and very dear friend."
He took it and pulled her into a tight embrace. "You are forgiven. As always." He leaned back and brushed the fringe out of her eyes. "You look like something out of a music video. It suits you."
"Henry!" Jack's voice bellowed out across the Hub and the Duke sighed.
"His Majesty is rolling over in his grave," Miranda finally teased. "Your grace has taken a lesson in humility?"
Henry rolled his eyes. "While I am thrilled to spend more time with Joe, I am, however, less enthusiastic about dealing with Jack's mercurial nature so closely and so frequently," he said with a smile. After Jack shouted his name again, Henry squeezed Miranda's arm and left the autopsy bay.
With one fence mended, Miranda turned her attention to another one. With a deep sigh, she walked down to the hand to hand gym. Ianto was sitting on one of the benches on the right side of the room. He'd changed out of his suit, donning a tight fitting t-shirt and pair of bike shorts. Miranda immediately noticed the changes to his body. It wasn't just the added muscle, it was in the way Ianto carried himself. There was a presence and a force to his posture that had always been there but it now had iron poured into it.
After Jennifer Richter and Perry Kent, Ianto realised he needed to be more proactive about his survival. So, he'd reached out to the Highlander. Duncan MacLeod had graciously given Ianto the names of a few friendly immortals who could enhance his training. Stretched thin, Ianto had made the most of what limited time he could scrape together and he had learned so much.
It made her return all the more bittersweet for him. Of course, she'd come back as a beloved friend, and a colleague, but she didn't return as his teacher. Ianto was on the scoreboard – this time on his own two feet. She felt the difference. It made her proud but it also changed the space between them - altering the density and pressure of the air.
"Ifan…"
"You're sorry, I know," he said, turning.
"I am. I'm so sorry."
The contrition was genuine, there was no doubt about that. He sighed and picked up a bottle of water. He twisted the cap, freeing it from the plastic safety ring with a crack-snap but the moment the bottle was open, he didn't drink. Instead, he twisted the cap back shut again. It was an uncomfortable fidget. "I get it, Mandy. I do. I'm sure in a few centuries I'll probably need some time, too. That's what we all thought - that you were just taking a little time. But when I found your mobile on your kitchen counter? That stung. Then I found out you paid Gunther for a new identity. That's when I knew you were dropping off the face of the planet."
She didn't even bother asking how he knew about Kristof Gunther, a master document forger used by nearly every immortal in Europe. He had created a new identity for her. He'd done his research. The fledgling has left the nest and flown well.
"Now that, I didn't understand. It's not my place to judge, but I won't tell you I wasn't angry, because I was," He sighed again and gave a small shake of his head. He twisted the cap off the water bottle again and, again, replaced it. "Especially after Gwen… after she lost the baby, I knew you'd want to know… want to be here. I talked to Lanning and Meredith. I talked to Methos and Duncan. I talked to Arjun and Amunet. I begged the Watchers. When I reached the bottom of the barrel, I even asked Ethan Donovan to do some digging." He shook his head. "You're like a sister to her, Mandy. And she needed you. She's too proud to say so."
"I know. I'm going to talk to her later," she said, ashamed. "Are we okay, Ifan?"
Ianto tossed the towel in his hand towards the benches as he stepped onto the mats. Miranda took the movement to mean their conversation was over so she turned and walked in the same direction. Ianto was behind her and he capitalised on her turned back. He didn't wait for them to get into position or for her to say she was ready.
Suddenly, a foot kicked her right in her rear, sending her sprawling forward. Miranda rolled, snapping her head around at the unsportsmanlike move. Continuing in the same dishonest vein, Ianto didn't give her time to collect herself. He rushed forward, landing a solid punch to her face. After hauling her up by her hair, he kneed her in the gut. She reached down, grabbing his knee and twisting it. Unbalanced, Ianto fell backwards. He brought his other leg around, delivering a solid kick to her knee and she reeled backwards. This time, she was prepared for him and took a defensive posture. Ianto held nothing back. He went at her with everything he'd learned over the past year and a half.
His new skill caught Miranda off guard. She saw several manoeuvres that she had not taught him. He'd clearly been learning on his own, studying with others. He'd told her little about his experience in the pocket universe but it was enough for her to guess at who had been his teacher there. He'd picked up many of MacLeod's habits and style. The man fighting her now had matured and found his own path. She was still stronger and faster but Ianto was edging towards defeating her. With more quickenings under his belt and a few centuries behind him, Ianto Jones would become a formidable presence in the Game. Ifan of Cymru… she thought. She had never been more proud of a student before.
She didn't let his new skill distract her too much. As he twisted, he expertly dodged a blow that was headed for his neck. Miranda had just tried to crush his windpipe. Normally, a field certification was done gently because it only needed to test skill and strength but the immortal members of the team never needed to mind their contact. When the immortals sparred, it was always with deadly force. He sprang back at her, taking advantage of her momentum. He wrapped his arm underneath hers, locking it behind her neck. He brought his other arm up to her head and applied pressure. There was a sickening crunch as her neck broke.
Ianto dropped her to the ground in a heap. He walked over to the bench and picked up a towel, wiping his face. He picked up a water bottle and drank half of it down then dumped the rest over his head and down the back of his neck. He sat down heavily on the bench and turned away from her. He clenched his jaw as he shook his head.
The time Miranda had been gone reminded Ianto of his time in the pocket universe and when Jack had vanished with the Doctor. His feelings had mostly been the same. It had been the same bitter pill choking its way down his throat - a compressed amalgam of disappointment and abandonment. Jack had had faith. He'd told Ianto over and over again… She does this sometimes, Yan… His husband hadn't been the least bit concerned. Ianto hadn't been able to shake the feeling that Miranda was gone and that she wasn't coming back and that Jack was just deluding himself. Was that how I sounded to the others after Jack left with the Doctor? he'd wonder into the dark during sleepless nights.
After scrubbing at his face, he threw his leg over the bench, turning to face Miranda's body. He hadn't been keeping track of the time at all. He had no idea when she would revive.
His victory both pleased and disturbed him in equal amounts. Successfully beating the piss out of her had given him some satisfaction about his fighting skill and alleviated most of his anger and resentment. He knew Miranda hadn't let him win. That tacit gesture would have made him angrier but he'd won, fair and square. It was quite the ego boost but he felt that he was enjoying it a little too much.
Just as the self satisfaction swelled, Miranda gasped and convulsed. Ianto finished his bottle of water.
"Now, we're okay." He stood up, tucking the empty bottle underneath his arm. "You passed. I'll file the paperwork."
He turned and started to walk away. He waved a friendly farewell with the water bottle. As he opened the gym door, he called out without turning around, "Sparring at five like always, yeah? Now, maybe I can teach you a thing or two."