Doomsday: Post Apocalypse
a Torchwood story
by RoadrunnerGER
Dislaimer: Oh, really! They're the BBC's.
Summary: Ianto comes to Cardiff for a week to help with the archives, but is it as simple as that? Jack/OC, Jack?Ianto
Suspense/hurt/comfort – T – Ianto Jones & Jack Harkness
A/N: Hello, Everyone! Thank you for bearing with me. We've been moving and I have to take the blame and admit that I used my rare spare time for nothing but, exactly, doing nothing. I hope you can forgive the wait. Enjoy!
Chapter 39 – Normalcy
For the first time since he went with Team Cardiff, Ianto did not feel like he was in a state of emergency. He would not say that he had settled in a routine either, but coming to work, making coffee, joining the team meeting, and retreating to the archives appeared more like everyday life today.
Actually, Ianto's day had begun with a mild shock at seeing the cage with the spidermice gone, only to recall next that they now lived at the Hub. After readying himself, he went straight to the bakery as he would not stand a chance at sneaking past anyway, and collected the obligatory package with pastries. After chatting a moment with Mrs. Dillard, he went to work where he hardly got to the stairs leading up to the kitchenette before Jack was hot on his trail…
…or better, chasing the pastries, cooing and begging, and dancing around the young Welshman in pursuit of the bag.
"You're a big child," Ianto chided with amusement and granted Jack one Welshcake, but only one. He climbed up the stairs, locked the bag in the cupboard and started the coffee machine, before he went down to the vaults to greet and feed his spidermice. Emerging from the tunnels, Ianto greeted Toshiko. He prepared the boardroom for the morning meeting and got the thermoses with coffee right in time for the team to gather. They ate and drank and talked about what was planned for the day.
After the meeting, Ianto brought the dishes back to the kitchenette, washed up, filled another thermos for Jack, and left it at the captain's office on his way down to the vaults. Now he sat at his desk in the archives, taking notes about the artefacts stacked on the shelves right next to the door. They were the newest additions to the archives and had to be sorted in the established categories. Working with the software he was used to facilitated his task. Doing something familiar, Ianto easily fell into a comfortable pace.
At Torchwood One his work had not been much different. The biggest difference was, that he now actually handled the artefacts that he archived and not just reports and other related paperwork.
While Ianto inspected the shelved boxes, he noticed that most of them contained items of low or average dangerousness. If the team had brought something else in from London, they had not stored it here.
I should ask Jack about it.
For now, Ianto continued to enter the descriptions and the assigned codes into the computer. Then he carried the artefacts to the allotted storage area.
Time flew by.
Looking at his watch, Ianto could hardly believe that almost four hours had passed.
"Guess I should show myself upstairs again," he chuckled to himself as he sorted the papers on his desk into neat stacks. "The world could end and I wouldn't even notice it down here."
"Talking to yourself?"
Coming from Toshiko, the tease came across quite light-hearted.
"It's so silent down here," Ianto replied with a sheepish smile.
"That's why I thought I should check on you," Toshiko smiled back at him. "That, and that we want to order Italian for lunch."
"Fine," Ianto nodded. "Do you already know what you want? I'll be there in a minute."
"Actually, I came to ask what you'd like to choose," Toshiko smirked, holding out a PDA at him. "Have a look at the menu."
"Thanks."
Taking a look at the dishes on offer, Ianto picked scalloped soft cheese wrapped in eggplant with tomato sauce, and penne arrabiata.
"We usually get garlic bread with our order," Toshiko explained. "They bake it themselves. Really good."
"Sounds like I'm in for a treat," Ianto lightly teased given her enthusiasm.
"You are," she replied earnestly before her lips quirked to a small smirk. "C'mon. Don't delve too deeply into our archives."
"They desperately need someone who does," Ianto sighed, casting a glance over his shoulder at the rows of shelves.
"Probably, but we can't let you hide for too long down here," Toshiko said, invitingly holding a hand out to him. "C'mon."
With a low chuckle, Ianto walked around the desk to join her.
"You need fresh coffee, huh?" he laughed softly.
"Fresh coffee never hurts," she said with a wink and pivoted around to lead the way up to the central Hub.
When they emerged from the tunnels, they heard Owen holler, "Hey, you dug him out of the files! Can we get lunch now?"
"Aren't you independent enough to get lunch without me?" Ianto flatly asked.
"If it wasn't for the others, I'd be finished with lunch already," Owen retorted. "Do you have some of those pastries left?"
"What for?" Toshiko asked incredulously.
"As an appetizer!" Owen indignantly declared.
"So eager, Owen?" Toshiko shot back. "You had six of them this morning. There's no way you can be hungry."
"Since when are we counting?" the medic grunted. "Either way, I'm starving."
"You're always starving," Jack cut in flatly. "Could be you have a tapeworm." For a change, he lounged on the sofa, his feet on the chest table. Looking up from the magazine in his hands, Jack pleadingly batted his eyes, "Ianto, could you work some coffee magic?"
"Your cocky behaviour sure won't assure my compliance," Ianto placidly replied, never stopping to think about his disrespecting comment.
"Oh?" Jack shot back in a challenging tone, sitting up and scooting forward in his seat. Quietly he was pleased to see Ianto readily joining in verbal sparring. "So maybe my title will." While his tone remained reprimanding, a twinkle in his eyes and the tiniest of smiles quirking his lips gave away his amusement. "I'm the captain here after all. Go and make coffee!"
"Yes, sir," Ianto all but stood at attention and swivelled around to head up the stairs to the kitchenette.
"Oi, Harkness!" Owen snickered, "Now that was slick of you! You really gotta show him who's the boss."
At the latter, Jack's features darkened.
"Call me that again and I will show you who's in charge here," the captain growled.
"Quit the empty threats, Jack," Owen tried to wave it off, "We all know you wouldn't pull rank over some banter."
"No?" Jack challenged anew. "Try me."
"Maybe you should get them out and get it over with," Ianto dryly cut in.
Both men slightly startled as they had not noticed that he had rejoined them. Jack quickly regained his footing, though, and seemed eager to comply, virtually beaming at Ianto for the brilliant suggestion and reaching for his belt buckle.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Owen shied back. "No need to take the teaboy literary!"
His features darkening, Jack took a sharp breath to scold Owen for his use of what he perceived as a derogative nickname. Before he could come up with a fitting come back, though, Ianto beat him to it,
"You don't have more to offer?" he said with an air of indifference. "I'm getting bored."
"Where's the coffee?" Jack prodded.
"In the coffee machine," Ianto shot back wryly.
"Well, then… go and get it!" the captain chuckled.
"Yes, sir," Ianto nodded.
"Oh, and do you happen to have some pastries left?" Jack queried innocently.
"I do."
Favouring Ianto with a broad smirk, Jack teasingly said, "If there happens to be a Welshcake, I'd love one with my coffee after lunch."
"Of course, sir."
"And stop saying sir," Jack groaned.
"Anything else I can do for you, sir?" Ianto tried to deflect.
Being offered the perfect opportunity for innuendo, Jack already had a lecherous 'Yeah, some Ianto for a starter' on his tongue before he thought better of it, "Not right now, but let's talk some after lunch."
"Of course, sir," Ianto agreed amiably and finally turned to go and get the coffee.
While Jack let his view linger on Ianto's retreating form, he did not pay attention to anything else, but when he was about to return to his lecture, he became aware of the others watching him. Especially Owen looked him over thoughtfully and full of suspicion.
"What?" Jack prodded with a clueless shrug.
"Who are you?" Owen challenged. "And what have you done with Jack Harkness?"
"Pardon?" Confusion filled Jack, sensing that he must have missed something.
"Well, you can't be him," Owen insisted, "because our captain would have shamelessly latched onto that golden opportunity, verbally harassing the teaboy and fantasizing about dragging him to a private place."
Darkly, Jack glowered at his medic.
"You know, Owen," Toshiko mildly voiced, "sometimes it's more telling what you're not saying."
Owen snorted wryly.
"Maybe the teaboy doped his coffee…?"
The banter went on but after that remark, Ianto was out of earshot. Of course, he had noticed that no lewd comment was coming forward and had been equally surprised. Such reticence was rather unusual for the brash and cheeky captain.
'Jack never asked me out on a date.'
Ydris's words pushed into Ianto's consciousness as he reached for the thermos. Surprised, he noticed that his hand was slightly unsteady. Gripping the handle tightly, Ianto refilled the thermos flask.
Last time he asked me about his odds I granted him a quite high percentage, Ianto recalled. About seventy-five percent if I remember right. And he really earned them.
A smile touched his lips as he thought of the spidermice and that Jack had reluctantly allowed them to live in the Hub now.
He'll learn to accept them. Once he understands that they really can't harm him, that his fears are irrational, he'll get over his fright. He was almost there when Benny escaped. Some day soon he'll even touch them.
Smirking to himself, Ianto remembered the surreal scene when Jack had almost been scared out of his mind by the small alien animal and yet ecstatic about the raise of his odds for a date with Ianto at his bravery.
Maybe I should just give the remaining percent to him and accept his invitation. It's just dinner after all. After everything he's done for me, and Lisa and the other victims, he deserves a reward. I mean, how bad could it be? I think he can actually be quite entertaining.
For a few seconds, Ianto relished the thought before it derailed.
Did I just consider going out with Captain Jack Harkness? Am I out of my bloody mind?
Something hot touched his fingers and heat of embarrassment shot into Ianto's cheeks at the realization that he had zoned out to the point that the coffee spilled over the edge of the thermos.
Bugger!
Grabbing a towel, Ianto wiped at his hand and the thermos. Cursing inwardly, he tossed the cloth onto the kitchen counter. Before he spilled any more coffee, he quickly twisted the plug in and put the thermos aside to clean up the mess on the grid.
Great! It'll drip on the workstations.
Having a closer look, Ianto was relieved to see that the kitchenette was far away from the desks, the coffee that ran through the grid dripping into the water basin.
Did anyone notice?
Looking down at his colleagues, he thought that they seemed oblivious. Owen appeared to be discussing something with Toshiko while Jack was engrossed in his reading. Only Suzie remained at her workstation in the back corner of the Hub, fiddling around with some alien tech.
Just when Ianto glanced at the technician, she raised her gaze to meet his, fixating him with a death glare that sent a chill down his spine.
Ignore her.
Smoothly getting up again, Ianto put some mugs and the thermos on a tray along with sugar, milk jug and spoons, and carried it all down to the chest table where he began to distribute the beverages to his colleagues. Over casual chatter, they nursed their coffees until the food arrived and Suzie went up to the tourist office to get it. Staying in the recreation area this time, they enjoyed their lunch.
"Toshiko, could you pass me the…"
Owen's mobile phone bleeped shrilly, cutting the captain off mid-sentence. Owen, being pointlessly surreptitious, checked who might be calling.
"…garlic bread, please?" Jack finished his sentence, intrigued by seeing a scowl crease Owen's forehead.
"I have to take this," the medic said, putting the rest of his pizza back in the box. "It's Dr. Passmore, the UNIT psychotherapist in London. I referred that bloke to him after the memorial. He wouldn't be calling if it wasn't urgent."
Jack nodded, even though he did not know why the doctor was uncharacteristically apologetic all of a sudden, and Owen got up to go to his med bay to take the call in privacy and to avoid interrupting their lunch any longer.
From where he sat, Ianto could see the doctor's shoulders tense as he bounded down the stairs.
"Ianto, did you try the garlic bread?" Jack asked to divert their attention. Chewing pleasurably on one of the pieces, he mumbled, "It's great, isn't it?"
"FUCK!"
Owen's shout was clearly audible even coming from the depths of the med bay, and the four people in the rec area all jumped. Next thing they heard was something, presumably Owen's mobile, colliding with the tiled wall and shattering into countless pieces.
"Bloody fucking stupid bastard son of a bitch!"
There was an ugly smacking sound and a pained howl, alarming the team that something had to have gone terribly wrong.
Ianto had heard enough. Getting up, he crossed the room and ran down the short flight of stairs, ready to subdue the doctor for his own safety, if necessary. Seeing the young medic clutch his left hand to his chest, his face contorted with pain, Ianto quickly strode over to offer assistance. Owen backed away from him, though, apparently affronted by the well-meant gesture.
"Owen!" Jack barked sharply, coming to a halt beside them. "What happened?"
"He fucking topped himself, that's what!" the doctor shouted in a rage, but for the moment he seemed more prone to verbal than physical violence, so Ianto just stood there and let him rant. "The poor, stupid, fucked up wanker left his first appointment with Dr. Passmore and did a swan dive off the Millennium Bridge."
"Actually, I meant what happened to your hand," Jack solemnly specified.
As if he noticed only now, Owen looked with tear-brimming eyes at his left hand that he cradled in his right against his chest. The knuckles were abraded, blood seeping out and staining his sweater.
"Punched the cupboard," Owen sheepishly told him, grimacing as he became even more aware of the pain. At the same time, he both appreciated and loathed the fact that Toshiko and Suzie leaned on the handrail above the med bay, watching anxiously.
"Looks like it won the fight," Ianto laconically stated.
"Smart-arse," Owen shot back.
"Let me have a look at it," Jack demanded, reaching out for the doctor's hand, but Owen backed off once more.
"I can take care of it myself," he grunted. "Leave me alone."
"Not going to happen," Jack shook his head. "C'mon. Let me see."
Before he could convince his medic, though, an alert interrupted them.
"Not now," Jack groaned. "Tosh! Check what it is!"
"On it!" she replied and hurried back to her workstation.
Expectantly, Jack held out his hand until Owen finally relented and placed his injured hand in Jack's. Beside them, Ianto sucked in a hissing breath between his teeth, when he saw how Owen struggled to stretch his fingers. The medic himself gritted his teeth in a vain attempt to hide his pain.
Jack pretended not to notice any of it while he took a first look at the abraded digits.
"Weevil alert!" Toshiko shouted across the hub.
Her anxious tone piqued the captain's interest. "How many?" he yelled back, activating the Bekaran scanner.
"At least two!"
Grunting unwillingly but knowing that Toshiko and Suzie could not deal with the situation with just the two of them, Jack pushed the scanner in Owen's expecting hand. "Take it easy, Owen," he said. "You cracked your knuckles. We'll deal with the weevils. Ianto, you'll stay with Owen."
"I don't need a babysitter!" the medic complained indignantly.
"But maybe another set of hands," Jack teased, though unrelenting, and turned to Ianto, "Make sure that he doesn't do anything stupid."
"Yes, sir."
Then Jack whirled around and vanished up the stairs, leaving the two younger men on their own.
"There he goes, saving the world," Owen muttered and it was evident that he would have preferred to go with him instead of being stuck in the med bay. Seeing Ianto stare thoughtfully at the dented metal of the cupboard door, he snapped, "What!"
"Nothing," Ianto shrugged, turning his attention back to Owen. "You delivered one hell of a punch if you broke your fingers."
"Cracked, not broken."
"Same difference," Ianto teased. "What was all that about?"
Now Owen was the one becoming thoughtful. While trying to decide what to say, he reached for some bandages.
"Remember the guy who taunted you at the memorial service?" he asked. Ianto nodded. "Turned out he was not just being mean, he suffered from sleep deprivation, unable to catch a few hours of sleep due to nightmares. He had not slept since the battle."
"So you referred him to the UNIT psychologist."
"Yeah… he went to see him yesterday, and this morning, he was found belly up in the Thames."
Ianto did not comment as he gently removed the dressing material from Owen's grip and began to bandage the injured hand. Twice, the medic corrected him, but aside from that, he just sat and let Ianto work, watching his every move even when he was already done. Puzzled, Ianto lifted an eyebrow at him.
"I swear to whatever deity still deigns to watch over our fucked up species, that I'll take it real personal if you kill yourself over Canary Wharf," Owen ranted. "I'll get that ruddy glove of Suzie's and bring you back just to yell at you until your ears smart. You sure won't dare to die on us again after that."
At first, Ianto felt affronted, but then he realized that a deep-set worry and genuine affection hid behind the caustic words and a mischievous smirk cracked his features. "I love you, too, Dr. Harper."
Glowering darkly at the younger man, Owen shot back, "Hell, you spent too much time with Captain Sunshine already."
Ianto chuckled despite the grave mood between them. It was all too clear that Owen was not finished yet and he waited for the medic to sort his thoughts.
"I tell you something, Ianto," Owen went on in an earnest tone that did not quite seem to fit the usually acerbic doctor. "Get out while you still can. You said yourself that you still need to conclude certain things. Use that opportunity to get away from here. Forget about Torchwood and live the life you want. Find someone to love and have kids. That's what you wanted in the first place, wasn't it?" He paused to give Ianto time for a confirmation that was not forthcoming. "You're not made to be a field agent, Ianto. Do you really want to waste away down in the vaults, sorting our archives?"
"You sound like you want to get rid of me," Ianto half-heartedly teased.
"After what just happened? I tell you, your coffee's the best I've ever had, but I'll rather do without in favour of seeing you alive and well and happy."
"Careful, Owen," Ianto snickered, "you're ruining your reputation. People might start thinking you actually give a damn."
"A dreck reputation if all my patients are killing themselves."
Stunned by Owen's sudden self-deprecation, Ianto chose to busy himself with sorting what he had needed for the bandage back into the drawers. Whatever he might say likely was going to be the wrong thing, so he remained silent. Owen's hand on his arm stopped him.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"Tidying up."
"This is my med ward, you know?"
Slowly, Ianto looked around at him, a wry smile touching his lips.
"And upstairs is your workstation that you care to leave behind strewn with candy wrappers, used coffee cups, and food containers."
"This is different," Owen grunted, taking a dressing out of Ianto's hand and pushing it into another drawer. "Here everything has its place."
"I know," Ianto shrugged and put a scissor into its ancestral place.
"Oh, really?" Owen challenged.
"Yep," Ianto smirked, "I know everything."
With that, he left the medic standing and climbed back up to the rail level. Seeing the remains of their lunch, Ianto went to get a plastic sack and began to gather all the rubbish that was scattered on the chest table. As he could not stand the sight of more litter, he continued on to the workstations, thoroughly picking what was definitely not needed anymore and letting it vanish in the sack. Ianto just thought that he should collect the used mugs next to go and wash them, when he froze.
What am I doing here?
Bewildered, he looked down at his hand holding the sack and slowly, he put the last can of soda that he still held to the other rubbish. Motions that had become second nature to him, and yet they felt wrong. Raising his gaze, he focused on his surroundings, looking around in wonder as if he was seeing the central Torchwood Hub for the first time.
It's become routine! Working here, caring for the team, actually feels normal! How the hell did that happen?
All of a sudden, Ianto could not breathe anymore. His chest constricted as if someone was sitting on it. Feeling lightheaded, Ianto sank down where he stood, coming to sit on the concrete floor, and cried.
tbc…