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Title: Disambiguation: In These Stones (Part 3/7)
Rating: Series ranges from PG to light NC-17. This entry's in the PG range.
Pairing(s): Jack/Ianto and Ianto/Owen. Occasional mention and hints of other pairings.
Notes/Summary: Disambiguation is an AU that follows the exploits of a parallel Torchwood where the events of "End of Days" didn't go as smoothly as they do in canon. Features Andy Davidson as a member of the team. Picks up where the original Disambiguation one-off story leaves off, so you'll probably want to give it a look. Betaed by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
riftugee, whose advice I took much more often than not, and without whom this piece wouldn't be nearly as shiny as it is now.
Part Three, in which Jack does that enigmatic man-at-the-window thing, and tension looms large.
Andy twisted in his sheets, eyes half open. He couldn’t breathe. Something was pressing down on his chest, taking his breath. I don’t want to die, he thought as he gasped and tried to suck in a lungful of air. I’m scared.
His eyes rolled back as the thing forced its way down his throat.
# # #
Jack Harkness stood behind one of the boardroom's plate glass windows with his arms crossed and surveyed the Hub below. Andy was dozing at his workstation, while a few feet away Toshiko tapped busily at her keyboard. Owen was in the autopsy room. Ianto, as far as he knew, was upstairs in reception. It should have filled him with pride to see those four tiny human beings standing up against the Universe on their own and winning.
So why couldn’t he shake this awful sense of dread?
Part of it, he thought, was the sheer incongruity of this place with his Hub. This team with his team. Gwen’s death dug at his heart. Why had he needed her to take him to Abaddon? He’d been weak but not helpless. He blamed himself. He should have gone alone.
There was also the problem of having been dead for a year. He was out of the loop. Only once before had he needed to cope with huge gap in his immediate memory, and that instance had left him decidedly bitter. To be fair, it wasn’t a good comparison -- missing out on something was hardly on a par with having it ripped out of your skull -- but some things were hard to let go of.
Jack pressed the intercom button and called down into the Hub. “Andy, can I talk to you for a minute?”
The blond haired man’s head jerked up. Jack flashed him a grin. Andy sighed, signed out of his workstation, and started across the metal walkway to the stairs.
Ordinarily, Jack would choose to use his office for this sort of thing. He’d position himself behind his desk and take full advantage of the message that sent. It was a lazy man’s sort of authority, and would be instantly understood, especially by an ex-cop like Andy Davidson. It would be easy enough to manage here as well. Just sit or stand on one side of the boardroom table, assume an air of superiority, and whammo. No muss, no fuss. Instant boss.
With Andy, though, it didn’t feel right. He’d met the man before, albeit briefly, during an incident with a Roman soldier who’d fallen through the Rift. Andy might have a strong sense of procedure and hierarchy, and he might follow the rules, but he wasn’t a pushover. If anything, he also had a strong nose for bullshit, and he didn’t mind calling people on it. While Jack didn’t doubt Andy would accept him asserting his authority, he didn’t want to be just another Chief Inspector or Superintendent (or, well, Captain) breathing down Andy’s neck. Jack needed his loyalty and trust. He had a feeling that, under the circumstances, that wasn’t going to be easy.
The glass door swished open. “You wanted to see me?”
Jack motioned for Andy to join him at the plate glass window and looked down again. Ianto had just come in through the cog door and security cage and was making a circuit of the Hub, picking up the morning’s empty coffee mugs. Owen had come out of the autopsy room to glower half-heartedly at his monitor. Toshiko hadn’t budged. He wondered how much of what he was seeing was business as usual, or if the team had reverted to old habits now that he was back. Had Ianto still done the dishes as interim Director? It worried Jack a little bit to think he’d broken a working routine, or unintentionally shoved people into roles they didn't want.
“You ever come up here and just watch, Andy?”
Andy shook his head.
“I used to come up here with Gwen all the time. I’d watch for a while, and then ask her what she saw.”
He turned to face Andy, who gave him a quizzical look.
“We almost never saw the same thing.”
Jack wondered what it was in particular that had inspired Ianto to recruit Andy. Officially, it had all been a matter of Andy’s police experience coupled with his frequent contact with Torchwood-related activity. Privately, he wondered how much of it had to do with him being Gwen’s old partner. After all, Jack could name a couple of other candidates who were equally (if not better) qualified for Gwen’s post. None of them were, in Jack’s view, worth hiring. Andy, though, had a funny sort of potential.
“Is that what you called me up here for, boss?”
“Sort of. And call me Jack.”
Andy nodded. “Right. Sorry.”
Jack indicated the table and the two of them sat. Jack took the head of the table out of habit, but made sure that Andy sat in the nearest seat to his left. It wasn’t equal, but it was intimate.
“Listen, Andy, I know the circumstances here are a little unusual. I didn’t recruit you, but I trust Ianto, Owen, and Tosh to have made the right decision when they needed to find someone to fill Gwen’s shoes. I also know that the last few days have been more than a little stressful.”
Andy sat back and crossed his arms. He cocked his head to one side. “Is that the word we use around here for being drugged and locked up for twelve hours by someone in authority? Stressful?”
“Ouch. Point taken.”
Andy’s ears went pink. “Shit. That came out all wrong.”
“No, no, that’s good," Jack said quickly, trying to reassure him. "That’s the whole point of this conversation. I want you to know you can be up-front with me, even when you don’t think I’m going to like what you have to say. I might not agree with you, but if there’s a side to an issue you think is important, I want to know about it.”
Andy nodded. He looked uneasy.
“Something on your mind?”
Andy sighed and let his hands drop into his lap. “Nothing, really. I mean, the tranquilizer dart thing still smarts a bit, but I can kind of see why Ianto did what he did. I don’t like it, but I can understand it, you know?”
Jack nodded.
“Anyway,” Andy continued, “I guess I’ve just been a little off since. Not sleeping right. Nightmares. That sort of thing. Owen says it might be a reaction to the tranquilizers, like some sort of allergy.”
“Be sure to keep Owen in the loop on that. If there’s a problem, he needs to know.” Jack watched as Andy broke eye contact. “Something else bothering you?”
“No! I mean –” Andy shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “It’s just weird seeing you walking around. This place was like some sort of working memorial to you. Torchwood, dedicated to the memory of Captain Jack Harkness, who gave his life saving the planet, you know? And now you’re here again, and the other three are acting like everything’s back to normal. Except it’s not for me because there’s this dead guy walking around giving orders.”
Jack burst into a grin. “See, this is what I’m talking about. You people are always seeing something different!”
“Well, it’s true!” Andy exclaimed. “Is anyone else planning on getting up? Should I be preparing to share my desk with some zombie from the nineteen fifties?”
Jack laughed. “As far as I know, I’m the only one crawling out of the vaults this week.”
“Alright. I can work with that. I think.”
“Tell you what. You’ve got basic first aid training, right?”
Andy nodded. “Yeah, through my old job.”
“If it will make you feel better, you can check my vital signs. I can even ask Owen to hook me up to the EKG if you like. I’ll even do my best not to eat your brains.”
Andy bit his lip, then reached in to touch Jack’s throat. A moment later, he jumped away. “Bloody hell! You are alive!”
“And believe me, I’m tickled pink about it. Now go on and finish up whatever you were working on and then go home. Get some rest. I can’t have my team falling asleep on the job. Got it?”
“Yeah, got it. Thanks, Jack.”
“Anytime.”
# # #
# # #
“So did you tell him?” Owen asked, attempting to look casual by examining a glass slide. Jack had only been back a couple of days, but since then, Ianto had barely spoken to either him or Owen.
Ianto picked up an empty coffee mug. “Tell him what?”
“About us.”
Ianto did not stop or put down his tray. He merely turned and raised an eyebrow. “What about us?”
“You know. That you and me had a thing. Might still have a thing, if you want.” Owen’s tone was noncommittal, but Ianto thought he could pick out an edge of cautious optimism, and possibly a hint of conciliation.
“I think we’re well past that, Owen.” Ianto said softly and turned away.
“Are we?” Owen asked, and moved to touch Ianto’s hand.
Ianto sidestepped him and picked up another coffee mug from Owen’s work area. He kept his eyes down as he stalked off to the kitchenette. He heard the distant clatter of an instrument tray hitting tile in the autopsy area and ignored it. He needed time to think.
He unloaded the morning’s mugs one by one into the sink. Doing the dishes would help. It always did him good to put things in order when things got stressful. Ianto took off his jacket and hung it on a nearby hook. He rolled up his sleeves carefully in an effort not to wrinkle them too much. Thus prepared, he then surveyed the task at hand.
Ianto blinked at the sink in disbelief.
Every single mug he’d just retrieved now had a fuzzy layer of green mold at the bottom.
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Rating: Series ranges from PG to light NC-17. This entry's in the PG range.
Pairing(s): Jack/Ianto and Ianto/Owen. Occasional mention and hints of other pairings.
Notes/Summary: Disambiguation is an AU that follows the exploits of a parallel Torchwood where the events of "End of Days" didn't go as smoothly as they do in canon. Features Andy Davidson as a member of the team. Picks up where the original Disambiguation one-off story leaves off, so you'll probably want to give it a look. Betaed by
riftugee, whose advice I took much more often than not, and without whom this piece wouldn't be nearly as shiny as it is now. Part Three, in which Jack does that enigmatic man-at-the-window thing, and tension looms large.
Andy twisted in his sheets, eyes half open. He couldn’t breathe. Something was pressing down on his chest, taking his breath. I don’t want to die, he thought as he gasped and tried to suck in a lungful of air. I’m scared.
His eyes rolled back as the thing forced its way down his throat.
Jack Harkness stood behind one of the boardroom's plate glass windows with his arms crossed and surveyed the Hub below. Andy was dozing at his workstation, while a few feet away Toshiko tapped busily at her keyboard. Owen was in the autopsy room. Ianto, as far as he knew, was upstairs in reception. It should have filled him with pride to see those four tiny human beings standing up against the Universe on their own and winning.
So why couldn’t he shake this awful sense of dread?
Part of it, he thought, was the sheer incongruity of this place with his Hub. This team with his team. Gwen’s death dug at his heart. Why had he needed her to take him to Abaddon? He’d been weak but not helpless. He blamed himself. He should have gone alone.
There was also the problem of having been dead for a year. He was out of the loop. Only once before had he needed to cope with huge gap in his immediate memory, and that instance had left him decidedly bitter. To be fair, it wasn’t a good comparison -- missing out on something was hardly on a par with having it ripped out of your skull -- but some things were hard to let go of.
Jack pressed the intercom button and called down into the Hub. “Andy, can I talk to you for a minute?”
The blond haired man’s head jerked up. Jack flashed him a grin. Andy sighed, signed out of his workstation, and started across the metal walkway to the stairs.
Ordinarily, Jack would choose to use his office for this sort of thing. He’d position himself behind his desk and take full advantage of the message that sent. It was a lazy man’s sort of authority, and would be instantly understood, especially by an ex-cop like Andy Davidson. It would be easy enough to manage here as well. Just sit or stand on one side of the boardroom table, assume an air of superiority, and whammo. No muss, no fuss. Instant boss.
With Andy, though, it didn’t feel right. He’d met the man before, albeit briefly, during an incident with a Roman soldier who’d fallen through the Rift. Andy might have a strong sense of procedure and hierarchy, and he might follow the rules, but he wasn’t a pushover. If anything, he also had a strong nose for bullshit, and he didn’t mind calling people on it. While Jack didn’t doubt Andy would accept him asserting his authority, he didn’t want to be just another Chief Inspector or Superintendent (or, well, Captain) breathing down Andy’s neck. Jack needed his loyalty and trust. He had a feeling that, under the circumstances, that wasn’t going to be easy.
The glass door swished open. “You wanted to see me?”
Jack motioned for Andy to join him at the plate glass window and looked down again. Ianto had just come in through the cog door and security cage and was making a circuit of the Hub, picking up the morning’s empty coffee mugs. Owen had come out of the autopsy room to glower half-heartedly at his monitor. Toshiko hadn’t budged. He wondered how much of what he was seeing was business as usual, or if the team had reverted to old habits now that he was back. Had Ianto still done the dishes as interim Director? It worried Jack a little bit to think he’d broken a working routine, or unintentionally shoved people into roles they didn't want.
“You ever come up here and just watch, Andy?”
Andy shook his head.
“I used to come up here with Gwen all the time. I’d watch for a while, and then ask her what she saw.”
He turned to face Andy, who gave him a quizzical look.
“We almost never saw the same thing.”
Jack wondered what it was in particular that had inspired Ianto to recruit Andy. Officially, it had all been a matter of Andy’s police experience coupled with his frequent contact with Torchwood-related activity. Privately, he wondered how much of it had to do with him being Gwen’s old partner. After all, Jack could name a couple of other candidates who were equally (if not better) qualified for Gwen’s post. None of them were, in Jack’s view, worth hiring. Andy, though, had a funny sort of potential.
“Is that what you called me up here for, boss?”
“Sort of. And call me Jack.”
Andy nodded. “Right. Sorry.”
Jack indicated the table and the two of them sat. Jack took the head of the table out of habit, but made sure that Andy sat in the nearest seat to his left. It wasn’t equal, but it was intimate.
“Listen, Andy, I know the circumstances here are a little unusual. I didn’t recruit you, but I trust Ianto, Owen, and Tosh to have made the right decision when they needed to find someone to fill Gwen’s shoes. I also know that the last few days have been more than a little stressful.”
Andy sat back and crossed his arms. He cocked his head to one side. “Is that the word we use around here for being drugged and locked up for twelve hours by someone in authority? Stressful?”
“Ouch. Point taken.”
Andy’s ears went pink. “Shit. That came out all wrong.”
“No, no, that’s good," Jack said quickly, trying to reassure him. "That’s the whole point of this conversation. I want you to know you can be up-front with me, even when you don’t think I’m going to like what you have to say. I might not agree with you, but if there’s a side to an issue you think is important, I want to know about it.”
Andy nodded. He looked uneasy.
“Something on your mind?”
Andy sighed and let his hands drop into his lap. “Nothing, really. I mean, the tranquilizer dart thing still smarts a bit, but I can kind of see why Ianto did what he did. I don’t like it, but I can understand it, you know?”
Jack nodded.
“Anyway,” Andy continued, “I guess I’ve just been a little off since. Not sleeping right. Nightmares. That sort of thing. Owen says it might be a reaction to the tranquilizers, like some sort of allergy.”
“Be sure to keep Owen in the loop on that. If there’s a problem, he needs to know.” Jack watched as Andy broke eye contact. “Something else bothering you?”
“No! I mean –” Andy shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “It’s just weird seeing you walking around. This place was like some sort of working memorial to you. Torchwood, dedicated to the memory of Captain Jack Harkness, who gave his life saving the planet, you know? And now you’re here again, and the other three are acting like everything’s back to normal. Except it’s not for me because there’s this dead guy walking around giving orders.”
Jack burst into a grin. “See, this is what I’m talking about. You people are always seeing something different!”
“Well, it’s true!” Andy exclaimed. “Is anyone else planning on getting up? Should I be preparing to share my desk with some zombie from the nineteen fifties?”
Jack laughed. “As far as I know, I’m the only one crawling out of the vaults this week.”
“Alright. I can work with that. I think.”
“Tell you what. You’ve got basic first aid training, right?”
Andy nodded. “Yeah, through my old job.”
“If it will make you feel better, you can check my vital signs. I can even ask Owen to hook me up to the EKG if you like. I’ll even do my best not to eat your brains.”
Andy bit his lip, then reached in to touch Jack’s throat. A moment later, he jumped away. “Bloody hell! You are alive!”
“And believe me, I’m tickled pink about it. Now go on and finish up whatever you were working on and then go home. Get some rest. I can’t have my team falling asleep on the job. Got it?”
“Yeah, got it. Thanks, Jack.”
“Anytime.”
JACK: Owen, you there?
OWEN: What U need?
JACK: I want you to keep an eye on Andy. He told me he’s having trouble sleeping. Could be nothing, but I want to catch it early if it’s something urgent.
OWEN: NP.
JACK: Thanks, Owen.
“So did you tell him?” Owen asked, attempting to look casual by examining a glass slide. Jack had only been back a couple of days, but since then, Ianto had barely spoken to either him or Owen.
Ianto picked up an empty coffee mug. “Tell him what?”
“About us.”
Ianto did not stop or put down his tray. He merely turned and raised an eyebrow. “What about us?”
“You know. That you and me had a thing. Might still have a thing, if you want.” Owen’s tone was noncommittal, but Ianto thought he could pick out an edge of cautious optimism, and possibly a hint of conciliation.
“I think we’re well past that, Owen.” Ianto said softly and turned away.
“Are we?” Owen asked, and moved to touch Ianto’s hand.
Ianto sidestepped him and picked up another coffee mug from Owen’s work area. He kept his eyes down as he stalked off to the kitchenette. He heard the distant clatter of an instrument tray hitting tile in the autopsy area and ignored it. He needed time to think.
He unloaded the morning’s mugs one by one into the sink. Doing the dishes would help. It always did him good to put things in order when things got stressful. Ianto took off his jacket and hung it on a nearby hook. He rolled up his sleeves carefully in an effort not to wrinkle them too much. Thus prepared, he then surveyed the task at hand.
Ianto blinked at the sink in disbelief.
Every single mug he’d just retrieved now had a fuzzy layer of green mold at the bottom.
---
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