A/N: Aaaah. Bit of a slow, filler chapter here, not too much happens but I'm quite happy with the tone - I tried to bring some old Torchwood-style banter into it. :) I know people in the USA and Canada have already seen it, but here in the UK, Glee has just started, and I'm obsessed! I love every minute of it. I hope there are some Glee fans here. My favourite character is either Mr. Schuester or Kurt. I love Kurt. Poll time - if you watch Glee, who is your favourite character? Anyways, I just want to say thank you to the 21 people who have favourited this story, and the MASSIVE 47 people who have alerted it. You guys rock. I'd love to hear from you, if you haven't reviewed before, even if it's just to say hi. Enough of me, anyways. The song is 'Wake Up', by Arcade Fire, because I heart it. Enjoy the chapter!
The body arrived from the Basement, and garnered a remarkable amount of interest. Considering it was a corpse.
Looped around the middle toe of the deceased person's left foot was a small luggage tag; a note from Learner and Cath, simply reading, 'We did all we could and didn't find anything. Good luck.' Daria removed it, wrinkling her nose, "There ought to be some dignity in death."
They all stood around the autopsy table as Daria washed up, staring at it. Ianto seemed deep in thought, Jack seemed sad – as he always did when new bodies were brought in – and Charlton was frowning, as if looking at something in a museum, rather than a cadaver. Gwen was not present; she sat just outside of the autopsy room, viewing the whole process on a monitor. She was too far in her pregnancy to be around bodies.
The x-rays had turned up something strange – the bones of the body were all broken. From a brief examination, Daria deduced that the purple, black and blue bruises marbling the man's body were not from the bones breaking, but from beforehand – something had beaten him mercilessly, before his bones were broken.
She was professional. As were the others, admittedly, but this was her first autopsy with Torchwood, and she had no idea what she would find. Ianto, Jack and Gwen found themselves musing about mayflies, and hoping there weren't any more.
Bruised organs. Some internal bleeding, though that had long stopped. Ianto winced a few times at the sight of the man's insides; usually it was alien specimens they were dissecting, not human beings. But the Basement, in a short phone call from a terse Learner, had specified, "Do it the old-fashioned way. The heavy machinery didn't pick anything up, so go back to basics."
When the operation was done, and Daria had stored away everything, body and all, she wiped her gloves on her scrubs, and peeled them off quickly, dumping them in the toxic waste bin. While washing her hands, she commented, voice muffled by her mask, "I would get out of the room first, before you remove your mask. I'm going to run the air-cleaning system – I don't know whether he picked up anything until my samples come back."
Dutifully, Ianto, Jack and Charlton filed out, and Daria sighed, drying her hands thoroughly. She locked all of her apparatus in the sterilization chamber, before flicking the switch for the air-cleaner. The fans began to start up, whirring hugely and stirring up the air. She left quickly.
They all entered the conference room, where Jack stood at the head of the table. He looked at them all carefully, "Now, for our new kids, I know that must have been an…interesting experience. But I need to tell you, if you found that…uncomfortable, then you need to get over it pretty quickly. Torchwood does not hire the weak. You all deserve to be here."
He looked into Ianto's eyes, as if to make a point. Ianto stared back squarely, and there was a tense moment before Jack continued.
"There will be more autopsies, you can be sure of that," he said, sternly, "because of the Rift. As long as the Rift is unstable, that is how long we will have unfortunate things like this happening. So swallow your disgust, and your fear, and the angst that naturally seems to come with working for us," he sighed, eyes flicking to Gwen, whose cheeks coloured slightly, "and let's try to figure out what's happened."
Charlton raised his hand, eyebrows raised. Jack smiled, "Charlton?"
"Jack, if you don't mind, can I check my computer? Some of the diagnostic scans might have finished," he paused, smiling wickedly, "unless you want to carry on."
Jack breezed past, lightly smacking him on the back of the head as he went, causing a yelp of protest from the younger man, "Sure thing, smartass. Let's get going."
"…I swear, there is so much wrong with that body, I don't even know where to start," Gwen said, sighing, looking at her monitor. The young woman suited pregnancy; her skin practically glowed, bright green eyes twinkling behind her thick black fringe, pale face framed by her dark hair. Ianto felt his mouth twist into a smile when he looked at her; he considered her close enough to be family.
"Now, come on. Surely something has to mean something," he murmured, leaning over her shoulder and placing a cup of tea in front of her, "This is from Daria, by the way, less caffeine than coffee."
Gwen pouted, then took a sip of the tea, and raised her eyebrows, surprised, "Bloody hell, this is good. She's like the tea version of you."
Ianto quirked an eyebrow, "I'm sure she'd be honoured. Gwen," he sighed, rubbing his eyes, "we have a problem with the Basement. I'm extremely reluctant to tell Jack as frankly," he paused again, eyes flicking up to study their boss in his office above speculatively, "we've not been…connecting, so much, right now."
"Is that what you're calling it now? I liked 'dabbling', myself," Gwen said dryly, grinning at him. Ianto flicked her forehead, "Shut it. Anyway, I need to take you to the Basement as a Torchwood operative, and because you're fairly…close to the situation. I figure, we go in the morning, sort out this…problem, then we could go into the city, shopping, a meal?"
"Why, Ianto, is that a date?" Gwen's lips twisted into a wry grin, and she nudged his hip with her elbow, "Well, it'd be nice to get out of here for a bit. We don't hang out, just you and me, nearly often enough." She paused, studying his face for a moment, and trailed a hand down his cheek, "and I think we need a heart to heart. A lot has happened, cariad."
Ianto smiled at her, taking her hand and squeezing it, "I'll get it cleared with Jack, and we'll have our day. Make sure you clear it with Rhys, too, I don't want him tearing after me thinking I'm violating his pregnant wife."
He dodged Gwen's punch with a laugh, and went to hand out more drinks.
"The thing I don't understand," Jack said, through a mouthful of noodles, "is how those bones were broken without someone well, breaking them. Usually takes some effort, too."
"A few of the tests turned up some very interesting evidence," Daria replied, picking at her tofu, "The body still had traces of radiation when we got it – gamma radiation – and so I'm wondering if it wasn't a person that did it. People aren't generally soaked in gamma radiation."
Tucking his napkin in, Ianto smiled, "Well, I suppose that's something. Who ordered the special fried rice?"
Charlton gestured vaguely, frowning. Gwen stopped chewing, questioning, "Charlton? Something on your mind?"
"Just…I don't know," he said, opening the container of rice and digging in, "I feel like I'm not putting two and two together somehow. Hang on…"
Putting his rice down, he raced to his computer. The others looked after him, frowning in confusion, before they settled back into their food.
"I wonder about him sometimes," Jack said, with a smile, "awfully smart for a human."
Ianto sharply nudged him with his elbow, and Jack yelped, "Watch your mouth, Harkness."
"I'd rather watch yours, Jones," Jack leered, leaning into Ianto expectantly. Their lips almost met when Gwen shrieked, "Honestly you two, get a different room if you want to carry on like that! We're eating and I'm pregnant!"
The pair laughed, Jack kissing Ianto softly on the jaw before retreating, just as Charlton thudded back into the room.
"Guys, I think I've put two and two together," he said solemnly, slowly coming to sit down with them, "and the answer is not what you'd expect it to be."
Ianto frowned for a moment, before quirking an eyebrow, "…you mean, it's not four?" He leapt away just in time to avoid food projectiles from all sides. Charlton pouted for a moment and sighed, "What I mean is that those 25 incidences of Rift activity and this man's death have something in common – trace gamma radiation. I think they might be linked. Where did your friends find the body?"
"…n…" Ianto said, frowning and getting up, napkin still tucked in, to fetch his diary. He sat again, and flicked through a few pages, Jack reading over his shoulder. At one point Jack laughed and Ianto blushed deeply, quickly flicking on and glancing at Charlton, who looked back, impassive. Finally, he reached the page he wanted.
"…shit," he murmured, "Fetch the board."
Daria got up immediately and brought in the board, pinpointing the linked Rift activity. Ianto took another pin off of the side, and placed it on – just past the last recorded spike, "…there."
The team sat in silence for a moment, absorbing what this meant for them. The activity must have produced something dangerous, for the man to have been killed so…emphatically.
"Uh…" Jack broke the silence, "Can someone pass the chicken?"
Jack sighed, leaning back in his chair, and looking at Ianto upside down.
Ianto stood there, stoic as ever, and he wondered whether Ianto realized how long it had been since they last had sex. He hated to put it bluntly like that, but he wondered if Ianto sensed his reluctance. Sensed his sadness at having Ianto turned into some new, non-changing version of the coffee-boy he…well, loved.
"So…" he said, running his hands through his crop of brown hair, "The new kids. They're pretty good."
"Yeah, they're really stepping up," Ianto replied, "as you would say. I'm sure your spine-tingling speech really made them think."
A smile tugged at his lips, and he grinned, looking innocently at Ianto, "Spine-tingling? Really?"
"Sir, I had goosebumps. I mean, 'so swallow your disgust, and your fear, and the angst that naturally seems to come with working for us…' – ice down my spine, doing the marenga. Very intense."
Sitting up, and swinging around in his chair, Jack smiled at Ianto smugly, "Ah, what would I do without you to stroke my ego?"
"I'm sure you'd do a very good job all on your own, Jack," the Welshman looked at him mischievously, "though I'm sure it wouldn't be as fun."
Jack smiled, the perfect flirtatious remark leaping to his lips immediately, but he halted it on the tip of his tongue. He knew this game as well as Ianto did, and it wasn't the right time. Sighing, Jack got up, and tilted Ianto's chin up to catch his pewter gaze.
"Ianto."
"Jack?"
"You can have your day with Gwen, so long as you get your business with the Basement sorted."
"And?"
"…and if you also come see a movie with me. Tonight."
"Okay. Sure thing. Don't you think we ought to worry…about…"
"Worry about what now?"
"Jack, remove your hand from there please. That is definitely harassment."
"Okay fine. Worry about what?"
"The dead person in our autopsy room, and the way that it's linked to…just because I am talking does not mean I will not notice when you put the hand back, Jack."
"…sorry. Go on."
"It's linked to those Rift spikes."
"Yes, that it is. And I'm sure we'll get an alert if anything changes. So let's go to a movie."
"…back row?"
"You betcha."
"Hello love," Gwen called, as she shut the door, with a smile.
"Ah, if it isn't my darling lady-wife, how're you sweetheart?" Rhys called, heading out of the kitchen.
It always struck him how beautiful she was, and how lucky he was to have her. He hugged her warmly, kissing her on the cheek, "You're looking bloody gorgeous, by the way. How was work?"
She put her cold hands on his cheeks, and he smiled, taking them in his to warm them up. Gwen grinned, "As per. Well, I get a sort-of half day tomorrow, which is nice. I thought it would be good to check if it's okay for me to go for a meal with Ianto, once we sort out some business with a fellow obscure organization?"
"As long as he's not planning to steal you away for himself, that's fine," he replied, with a chuckle, "and I doubt he is. The way him and Harkness carry on."
Here Gwen frowned, and sighed, leaning her head on his chest, "They're not really getting on as well as usual, Rhys. They're a bit distant from each other."
"Well, maybe I should worry, then," he laughed, then frowned. There was something very sad in Gwen's voice, something he didn't like. Something too similar to after Tosh and Owen died, "Here, what do you mean?
He led her to the sofa and sat her down, before going to make them some tea. Gwen sighed, putting her feet up and sinking into the sofa, "I mean, after the whole…back-from-the-dead fandango. They've not been the same since…well, Ianto can't die. Like Jack, except technically Jack just can't stay dead. What I mean is, Ianto can't be killed, without extreme difficulty, and he won't age. And I don't know how well he's coping with that knowledge. Or Jack, for that matter."
Rhys came through from the kitchen, placing their mugs of tea on the coffee table, "Well, Torchwood certainly likes its unusual problems. Christ."
"I know, I know," Gwen said, sipping at her tea and humming appreciatively, "I mean, they're going to see a film tonight, I think, but I just feel so bad for them. As if enough hasn't happened already, eh?" She smiled, laughing slightly, "God, what a life."
Rhys put his arm around his wife, and smiled down at her, kissing her on the head, "Don't worry too much about all of this, Gwen. It's not your problem. The lads will deal with it in their own way. Now, calm down, Glee's on, and I know you love it."
"Fine. Have it your way. You love it too."
He laughed, pulling her closer, and stroked one hand over her stomach, feeling his baby – his baby – nudge against it. Their lives were changing so quickly – and sitting here, with his wife at his side and singing teenagers on the telly, Rhys couldn't help but feel it was for the better.
A/N: Bwahaha. Gwen and Rhys and their baby have Glee fever. -snarf-
