Author's Note: Sorry it's slightly later than I intended. I blame the morris dancers, they kidnapped me (and oh I wish I were lying).
Just so you know, the Prime Minister isn't based on our... leader over here in Blighty. He's based on Gordon Dietrich in V for Vendetta (film). If you haven't seen it, Stephen Fry as himself. And if you don't know who I mean, get thineself to YouTube! Stephen Fry is God! And I apologise for the politicising in this, this is the first year that I'm old enough to vote.
Ahem, on with the story.
Melissa Marsden tugged her suit straight, wiped her hands on her skirt, flicked her fringe up on her forehead by her reflection in the lift doors and pushed her glasses back up her nose again. Butterflies fluttered briefly in her stomach and she checked through her notes one more time. As soon as the doors opened her expression cleared and became stern and professional. Departmental gophers got out of her way like the parting of the Red Sea, most of them without even realising it.
The man she'd sent to meet was studying the plaster friezes absently, his dark suit making him blend in easily with the milling crowds around him; even if his serenity set him apart. He held himself perfectly still, his hands in his trouser pockets, lifting the suit jacket up slightly to reveal the deep purple lining. She came to stand behind him and cleared her throat. "Mr. Jones?"
He turned to her with a smile and her insides melted; the only photo she had of him was his ID card shot, and it didn't convey the slight quirk of his eyebrow that suggested he found the whole situation amusing, or the intelligence in his eyes, or the lean but strong build that... She pulled herself together firmly, reminding herself that that expression on one of her colleagues would earn them her sternest glare, not what she was sure was a goofy, cross-eyed grin. He was watching her as though expecting something and she remembered to introduce herself. "Oh, Melissa Marsden." He shook her outstretched hand and she reigned herself back in further. "I've been sent to show you the facilities, introduce you to your team."
"My team?"
"Oh yes," she indicated towards the lifts and they set off together. "Downing Street is not as oblivious to the actions of Torchwood and UNIT as they would like to believe. Prime Minister Harriet Jones put together a team to collate any information they could to the Prime Minister's office. After the fall of Canary Wharf, the records were divided between UNIT, Torchwood and here. With you here, we can begin on the Archive project, to form a central archive for all alien knowledge within the EU. Unfortunately, Prime Minister Saxon used the information we had at the time," she looked at him. "Are you aware of what happened during the missing year?"
He nodded. "More intimately than anyone else who didn't live through it, I suspect."
Melissa smile tightly. "Your team includes someone who did live through the year. Henry Jackson was a UNIT soldier on the Valiant."
Ianto knew the name well. His face hardened and he stopped her. "Are you aware of my relationship with Captain Harkness?"
She frowned, suddenly unsure of her footing in the conversation. "He was your employer at Torchwood Cardiff."
He looked away and down slightly. "He was also my lover, the... breakdown of our relationship precipitated my return to London." The pause would have been imperceptible to anyone who didn't spend their life watching and manipulating people's reactions. She nodded her understanding. Ianto continued, "I will not work with Mr. Jackson. Not knowing what I do of his actions during the year."
"All UNIT troops were found to be non-complicit." She frowned. "The blame does not lie with Mr. Jackson."
"I believe that Captain Harkness's statement was not taken into account." Again, she nodded. "Well no-one who knows the Captain and heard what he had to say about the year would clear them all so easily. I suggest you remove Mr. Jackson and keep him away from Cardiff and Captain Harkness, and reconsider the inquest based on the Captain's evidence."
She searched his face closely, then turned away. "The entire team is your responsibility. If there is anyone you wish removed, it is in your power to do so."
"Thank you." They stepped into the lift and watched each other's reflections in the door. "What exactly are my responsibilities here?"
She smiled tightly and passed him a file. "You report directly to the Prime Minister once a week or when necessary. You will collate the information your team gather to keep him informed, be aware of all resident aliens in the country and the actions of UNIT and Torchwood and lead a team in the defence of the Prime Minister should the need arise. You are the Prime Minister's spokesman with the organisations, so it is up to you to maintain relationships with them. You will also," she smiled, "be responsible for ensuring that all MPs are human. Apart from the two we already know of. We don't want another Harold Saxon on our hands, do we?"
"Indeed not." He smiled back at her and she relaxed slightly. "Do I have to prevent the BNP taking power as well, or is that just going to have to be an engaging hobby?"
She laughed, entranced by the way his whole face changed when he smiled. "Just a hobby, I'm afraid. We cannot meddle in political affairs through our office. I'm afraid," She turned serious again. "Knowing what I know do of your relationship with Captain Harkness, I have to inform you that the weekly reports he made to the Prime Minister will now be made to you instead. If this will be awkward..."
"We're adults." He didn't look at her. "I'm sure the Captain and I can be civil to each other for half an hour a week."
Her eyebrows shot up and she smiled. "Who knows, you may even get him to tell you something."
"Indeed." They arrived on the right floor and she led him to an office where a smartly-dressed team sat at computers, analysing data and reports. They jolted to their feet and saluted when Ianto entered the room, and his expression of amusement, surprise and frustration showed what he thought of it. "Well you can all stop that for starters."
They dropped their hands sheepishly and Melissa hid a laugh in a cough. "Your team. Henry Jackson, Jacqui Block, Tiffany Ascombe, Martin Stranger, Peter Henson and... Analyn Craig." The last girl gave him a look of fake innocence, her bright smile a contrast to the professionalism of the rest of the team. Ianto liked her already.
"Mr. Jones." Henry started, but Ianto glared him down.
"First things first, don't call me Mr. Jones. Sir for starters, and you can earn Ianto. Next, you're all armed?" They nodded, although he didn't need the confirmation, gun holsters changed the line of all of their suits. "Good, now take them off and put them in your desks. In this room, you will not be armed. I will be, and I promise only to shoot you if it's absolutely necessary. Speaking of which, Henry..." he turned to Melissa. "Is there anywhere private I can take this?"
She nodded, gesturing to the door. "I'll show you your office."
It was right next door, a spacious area with a thick, dark carpet and elegant furniture. Henry studied the room with easy avarice – he seemed to think that because they'd gone to the next room he needed his gun, or was allowed it. Ianto held out his hand. "Your weapon, please."
Henry frowned and looked at Melissa, but did as he was told. Ianto checked it and set it on the desk. "Thank you. And now I want you to return to the office, clear your desk and never return."
Henry gaped. "You can't do that, I have nine years experience at UNIT and..."
"Ten years, actually." Ianto snapped, "One of those years didn't exist for most of the world, but for someone I care about, it happened."
The man's face turned thunderous. "You mean the freak? How..."
Ianto slammed his hands on the desk, and Henry actually took a step back from the concentrated fury in his expression. "And with that, you have lost the right to speak. If I could, I would lock you up in a UNIT cell for the rest of your miserable existence, but I don't think I can do that. I could send you to live in the vaults at Torchwood with the Weevils, but I don't want you anywhere near Jack. Captain Harkness is a hero, who suffers enough for his immortality. He doesn't need people like you making it worse." Henry opened his mouth, but Ianto cut him off again. "What part of 'you have lost the right to speak' did you not understand? You will return to the office, you will clear your desk and you will leave, and you will not speak to anyone until you have left this building. I will give you one week to break off all communications with the others in the office, and after that I do not want to hear from you again. Understood?" He nodded. "Good, I will explain to the team why you are leaving so suddenly, so you don't need to."
With a glare, Henry turned to Melissa in silent appeal, but she kept her gazed fixed on Ianto and ignored him. When Ianto passed him and held the door open, he turned and led the back to the main office, following Ianto's orders in furious silence. The team picked up on the atmosphere and concentrated on their work, proving that they were experts at looking busy at the very least. Ianto waited by the window, watching the policeman outside until the door slammed shut. "I want him monitored, and I want to know if he goes within twenty miles of Cardiff. Who's best positioned to do that?"
They stared at him for a moment, then Tiffany raised her hand. "Sir?"
"Have you got a question, or are you volunteering Ms. Ascombe?"
"Erm, both, Sir. Should I..."
"Whatever necessary, I want to know every move, and I want him placed on the watch list. His actions during his tenure with UNIT have been called into question, which will probably make him unhappy with me, and with others." Ianto explained, leaning against his desk to face them.
"How have his actions been called into question?" Analyn blinked, then added, "Sir."
He didn't look at her. "Personal experience."
"You mean the..."
His glare shot up. "I suggest you consider the next word very carefully Ms. Craig."
"It's, erm, it's Miss, Sir. Or Analyn. Or just Ally." She quailed. "The next word was Captain. Is that wrong?"
"No." He relaxed and smiled at her. "I'm sorry Analyn, but I've heard him referred to as much worse. This is a warning though, for all of you, I won't hear condemnation against the men and women of UNIT and Torchwood, especially not Captain Harkness. I've lived their life and I know the risks they take every day. I may not get on with UNIT particularly well, but Torchwood are closer to me than family, and I respect the work that UNIT do. Any of you who communicate with the Captain," he pulled a wry smile. "Don't worry if he yells at you, it's nothing personal. He just likes to shout."
When they all indicated their understanding, he looked to Melissa again, who gestured towards the door. "Right, I have more exploring to do. When I get back, I'll speak to you all individually to get to know your strengths and what needs work.
"And then," he added quietly to Melissa as they left, "I'm going to sit in a quiet room for a while and figure out how the Hell I ended up here."
Gordon Albion stood and moved around his desk to greet Ianto when he arrived. Ianto shook his hand and smiled. "Prime Minister."
"Ianto," Gordon chided, "I thin we've got past that point. Call me Gordon, please. That way I stand less chance of forgetting my own name." He smiled and gestured to a chair. "How are you settling in, then?"
"Rather well I think." Ianto said, "I've already fired one member of the team and terrified the rest."
"That doesn't sound like you. Tea? Or coffee?"
"Coffee, thank you." Ianto mused over the inherent question. "I'm all in favour of second chances, I've had enough myself, but there are some things I cannot forgive nor even understand."
"I see. And dare I ask which member of your staff will not be joining us?"
Ianto knew that, if Gordon was half the man Ianto thought he was, he already knew, but told him anyway, "Henry Jackson."
"Ah, the Valiant." Ianto nodded his confirmation, even though it hadn't been a question."Yes, I can understand that. You trust Captain Harkness's judgement then?"
"Completely."
"And yet you left Cardiff?"
Ianto hesitated, then set his coffee mug down, resting his elbows on his knees. "I was in danger of... restricting the Captain. Aside from the dangers of having a lover in the team, which could make him vulnerable, he was also in danger of reaching a situation where, if the Doctor called, he would not go."
"And you thought it wisest to..."
"To give him his freedom." Ianto watched Gordon's reactions closely, but read nothing. "The world is safer if Captain Jack Harkness can do as he wishes."
"And what if what he wished was you?" Ianto couldn't answer that.
He sat down at his desk and opened his email programme.
07.07.08 – 13.39
I. Jones to
"Tosh,
It's very strange here, I'm practically in charge of Torchwood London, and I've already fired one member of the team over a disagreement. The Prime Minister is fine, whatever Jack says, and my office is lush.
Speaking of Jack, you can tell him I'm fine here, and that his weekly report to the Prime Minister now comes to me instead. If he doesn't want to talk to me, I can understand, you can call me or I'll get someone else to take the call. As long as he promises not to yell at them. I think I've scared them enough.
It's not so different her to Cardiff. For a start, it's done nothing but rain since I got here. The office is dryer, I'll admit, and quieter. And they all call me Sir, which is extremely strange, but it's just like being back in the archives in the Hub.
Give Myfanwy a bar of chocolate from me. I've left a stack of them in the office behind the TI office. Too many offices in that sentence, but you know what I mean. And do me a massive favour and get Jack something huge and chocolate-y. Don't let him think I don't care about him.
Love, Ianto."