invisible_lift (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
invisible_lift) wrote2008-01-12 01:43 am
invisible_lift) wrote2008-01-12 01:43 am
Entry tags:
Disambiguation: In These Stones (Part 4/7)
Title: Disambiguation: In These Stones (Part 4/7)
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 Four, in which Andy is spotted in his underwear, and things continue to be complicated.
Ianto sat at the boardroom workstation and processed row after row of figures. He glanced occasionally at the Rift monitoring program displayed on the widescreen plasma television that hung at one end of the room. He nibbled at the cap to his pen, which he occasionally held in his teeth between bouts of note taking.
Rift-related phenomena did occasionally occur in the Hub. Items – and people, he reminded himself with a wry smirk – appeared or disappeared from time to time. Phantom sounds and lights sometimes set off sensor arrays and alarms. The frequency of these anomalies had increased since Bilis Manger had tricked them into tearing open the Rift, and Ianto had been trying to record each occurrence as completely as possible in hopes of understanding the mechanics at work.
He was documenting this afternoon’s incident with the coffee mugs – some sort of temporal artifact or time leak, he guessed – but he couldn’t pinpoint the anomaly that had caused it. There didn’t seem to be one. The data was clean. Ianto pinched the bridge of his nose and let his head fall forward. There had to be something here. What was he missing? He punched in the time stamps a fifth time and began again.
“You’re in late,” Jack said softly as he entered. He was in his sock feet and his braces hung at his sides. His white t-shirt was luminous in the half-light.
“Force of habit,” Ianto replied without looking up. “Plus, tonight’s my night for monitoring duty. I owed Andy.”
“And here I was hoping you’d stayed here for me,” Jack teased as he came to stand behind Ianto’s chair, resting his hands on the younger man’s shoulders. He drew back when Ianto didn’t respond to his words or his touch. “Ever since you brought me back to the Hub you’ve been distant. You’re avoiding me. Mind letting me in on what I did wrong?”
Ianto dropped his pen onto the desk and closed his eyes. “Nothing. Things are just... Complicated.”
“Complicated?” Jack’s eyebrow arched.
Ianto ran his fingers through his hair and avoided Jack’s eyes. He took slow, deep breath. He’d tried pretending indifference with Owen earlier, but now that this conversation was happening with Jack, Ianto felt like he was drowning.
“I’m seeing Owen,” he started, and then thought better of it. “Well, I was. I think I may have broken it off with him this afternoon. Unless he’s the one who ended it when he threw me out of his flat the night I stole you out of the morgue. Like I said, it’s –”
“Whoa. Yeah, okay. Complicated.” Jack sat down on the edge of the boardroom table. He looked equal parts surprised and crestfallen, and maybe like he was trying to do a bit of difficult math in his head as he tried to assimilate this new bit of information.
“He needed someone, Jack, and I thought you were gone forever. It worked better than you’d think, actually, but now that you’re back, he’s all wrong. It’s like,” Ianto paused, looking for the right words. “It’s like putting nacho cheese on a banana split. Except I don’t think he sees it that way.”
“Why not?”
“Because I never let go of you. Owen got to where he is now mostly on his own. It was a natural trajectory. Meanwhile, I only moved on because that’s what the living do. We move on.” Ianto fidgeted with his shirt cuffs, still stubbornly refusing eye contact.
Jack considered this for a moment. He looked down at the palms of his hands, his expression lined with regret. “Would it be easier if I left?”
“No!” Ianto gasped, jumping up and gripping Jack firmly by the wrist. It took him a moment to realize what he’d done, and he muttered an apology as he loosened his grasp.
“I just need some time to sort things out, and let things cool off between me and Owen. I’m not rejecting you, Jack. I’m just struggling a little with the circumstances.” He sat back down in the workstation chair. “I just wish I knew how to handle this gracefully.”
Jack reached over and stroked Ianto’s hair. “I’m not making you choose, if that’s what you’re thinking. You know I don’t expect exclusivity. If you want Owen –”
Ianto raised his head and gave Jack an incredulous look.
“Look, I’m just saying I don’t object,” Jack added hurriedly. “Sure, it sounds a little crazy to me – I’m used to the two of you being at each other’s throats, not each other’s zippers – but I can adapt. I’m a big kid. I can share my toys.”
Jack slid his hand under Ianto’s jaw and kissed him lightly on the forehead. “It’s okay. Whatever you need to do.”
“Thank you.” Ianto relaxed visibly and stretched his shoulders with a groan. He caught a flicker on the Rift monitor readout in his peripheral vision and turned his head to watch the numbers scroll past.
“So what’s so interesting that you’re spending the night up here crunching numbers instead of spending it in bed with me?” Jack asked, instantly back into his usual smirk and swagger.
Ianto passed him a plain white ceramic mug. Jack examined the outside, then glanced inside and wrinkled his nose. “Okay, that’s kind of disgusting.”
“That’s from this afternoon.”
Jack balked. “What, like you found it this afternoon in that towering jumble of filth Owen claims is his desk?”
“No, as in this contained fresh coffee earlier this afternoon, and that somewhere between my picking it up to wash it and putting it in the sink, it went all putrid. I’m trying to document the time glitch, but the Rift monitors don’t seem to have picked anything up. I can’t identify any other causal factors, though.”
“That is weird.” Jack handed the mug back to Ianto. “Still, if you can’t find anything, there’s no sense in banging your head against it all night. ”
“I suppose you’re right.” Ianto scowled at the mug briefly before setting it down on his notebook.
“Come on,” Jack said as he gave Ianto’s fingers a squeeze. “Let me take you home.”
# # #
Andy awoke with a scream ripping its way out of his throat. He sat up, sweat drenched and panting. He whipped around to check his bed for the thing that had, in his dream, been strangling him. He could still feel it wrapping around his mouth and throat, stealing his breath and jamming him so far down into his head that he couldn’t move. In the end, he managed only to tangle himself further in his own sweat-damp sheets.
The clock at his bedside read 4:22 AM.
He groaned as he rubbed his eyes. He wouldn’t be getting any more sleep this morning, that was for sure. Maybe he could have a nice hot shower and some sweet, milky tea. If he was still restless after that, he’d maybe surf around a bit online before work. That’s what he needed. Sane, day-to-day creature comfort things would put his mind at ease before another day hunting aliens.
Hunting aliens, he snorted as he checked his face in the mirror. Flipping Nora. What a life. No wonder I’m having bloody nightmares.
Andy had only just switched on his bedside lamp and picked his way out of bed when his mobile rang. He swore under his breath and picked it up without checking the caller ID.
“Good morning, Sunshine!” a voice crowed at him before he had a chance to finish his own baffled hello.
“Jack? What the –“ he sputtered. “Is that you?”
“Of course. Who else calls at half four in the morning?” He’s completely chirpy, Andy groaned inwardly. That’s unnatural.
“Um. No one. Including you.”
“Yeah, well, I figured it was time to rectify that situation. Plus, Owen and I are outside in the SUV. Nice briefs, by the way.”
Andy looked down at his Andrew Christians, then up at his bedroom window. Jack flashed the headlights on the SUV. Andy tugged his blinds down with a huff.
“I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Don’t keep us waiting. Oh, and bring a change of clothes.”
# # #
Ianto arrived early with the intention looking over the Rift data again. He’d found the Hub deserted and set to night time efficiency mode.
He checked Jack’s office, but it was empty and Jack's quarters were closed. Ianto thought instantly of the previous night’s conversation and had to fight down panic as he went through the morning start-up checklist. Jack wouldn’t leave them, would he? Not without saying anything, at least.
Just keep telling yourself that, the cruel little voice in his head told him. It reminded him unsettlingly of Owen.
He’d made his way almost halfway down the list when found a bright yellow sticky note on his coffee machine.
In Splott. Back soon.
Kisses,
Jack.
Ianto smiled, tucked the note into his wallet, and started the coffee. Take that, you bastard, he told his inner critic with a fair amount of glee.
Toshiko arrived not long after, and the two of them decided to enjoy an impromptu breakfast of leftover bagels and fruit in the boardroom. He showed her the coffee mug.
“Did you check the environmental logs?” she asked, wheels already turning in her head. “What about the ventilation filters? Oh, and the air handlers?”
“Yep. Everything was clean. Even the Rift was uncharacteristically quiet.”
She popped a chunk of melon into her mouth, and then wiped her hands clean on a napkin. “Well, in that case I agree with Jack’s assessment. File it under unexplained until we get more data. Speaking of which, how are you two?”
“It’s complicated.”
Toshiko cracked a grin. “I’ll bet. Does he know about Owen yet?”
Ianto sighed. “Yes, and I think he’s angling for a threesome.”
Tosh giggled.
“It’s not funny! I mean, really! Can you imagine? Jack and Owen. Jack and Owen.” He gave her his best stricken expression.
Toshiko burst into a fresh fit of laughter.
Ianto sighed theatrically and stood to clear away their left-overs. “Swear to me that you won’t utter a word of this to Andy. Or Owen. Or anyone.”
“Fine, fine,” she snorted into her coffee. “Can I help you with any of that?”
He looked over their spread. “Sure. If you could carry the fruit, it would save me a second trip.”
Tosh gathered up what was left of the grapes and melon chunks and followed Ianto to the kitchenette. She knelt down to open the small refrigerator and gagged, hand over her mouth.
“Oh my god, what died in there?”
“That’s bizarre,” Ianto said and crouched down to investigate. Something about this made him nervous. The hairs on his arms and neck stood up. “It was just fine before breakfast.”
Tosh dashed down the steps to her workstation. “I’m bringing up the Rift and environmental data for the last thirty minutes. Can you verify that the refrigerator isn’t suffering some kind of mechanical failure?”
“This didn’t happen in thirty minutes, Tosh." Ianto looked skeptical, and more than a little repulsed.
“No, but any data in this instance could help us pinpoint the anomaly.”
“Right. Of course.” Ianto went to fetch gloves and a mask. He was not going to enjoy this.
# # #
“Do you think maybe – just maybe – we could do this without getting filthy next time?” Owen whined as he slid out of the SUV. He was sopping wet, still covered in grime, and he stank.
“What’s wrong, Owen? I thought you liked it dirty.”
“Sod off, Harkness. Like you’d know,” he grumbled.
“Hey, it’s not like I haven’t offered.” The Captain winked at him as he tugged off the sodden mess of greatcoat that hung from his shoulders. It landed on the concrete of the garage floor with a wet squish. He unlaced his boots and tried to yank them off. They made wet sucking sounds as he pried his feet free. “Let’s take the worst bits off here, and then hit the showers. Ianto will never forgive us if we track this stuff all over the Hub.”
Andy was already standing half undressed, squeezing the water out of his jeans. “At least we found that pulse mine in time. Ten more minutes and boom! Smoking crater where Splott used to be.”
Owen snorted. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
Jack glanced at Andy in time to see him pull a face, mouth Owen’s words back to him silently, and roll his eyes. Jack smirked. Owen fumed.
They took the inside passage to find Toshiko and Ianto already hard at work. Neither of them particularly noticed the three half-naked men who’d suddenly appeared in their midst.
“If I’d known that showing up to work in my underwear got me such a warm reception, I’d have changed the dress code a long time ago.” Jack dropped the containment box next to Tosh’s workstation and crossed his arms to pout.
“Yeah, but what would the casual Friday look like?” Andy deadpanned, cocking his head to one side.
“Sorry,” Tosh said, gifting Andy with a bemused wink. “We had another Rift-related temporal irregularity this morning.”
“Anything I need to be worried about?” Jack asked, peeking over Toshiko’s shoulder to examine her work.
Tosh shook her head. “Not sure. I hope to know something in the next thirty minutes or so.”
“Alright, then. Owen, Andy, let’s go clean up.”
# # #
Torchwood Three’s base had always been a strange combination of cutting edge, alien influence, and anachronism. Their computer system exemplified this. It was super-powerful – well beyond modern standards – and their terminals and peripherals were usually the best money could buy, but the actual core was housed in a Victorian shell in a dusty chamber below the archive.
The Hub, the cells, and the autopsy bay were all like this. After a while, the incongruity of it all started to blend into a coherent aesthetic.
The locker room area, however, was a notable exception. Built well before the age of pleasurable modern hygiene, it was a pure antique that bore creaky testimony to the fact that very few if any twentieth century plumbers had also been cut out for hunting aliens. There was a trick to everything from getting the water going in the first place to keeping it comfortable. Fortunately, Jack knew them all. He started up the taps before retrieving his shower caddy from his locker.
Andy and Owen were already lathering up when he entered the stalls. This was one of the best parts of his job, Jack mused. There was always a great view. He hummed as he scrubbed and lathered away the grime, enjoying the smell of soap and shampoo and making a special effort to get the gunk out of his hair. Hot water was wonderful stuff.
There was a clatter from the far corner as a shampoo bottle crashed to the ground. It was followed by a groan and the wet crack of skin hitting tile floor.
Jack spun around to see Andy sprawling across the tiles, eyes wide. Owen scrambled over to where he lay and dropped to his knees. He rolled the other man onto his back and elevated his legs. Owen swept a finger into Andy’s mouth to check his airway.
“Oi! Andy, mate, can you hear me?” Owen said, waving his hand in front of Andy’s face. “Jack, turn off this tap and get me some towels.”
“Death,” Andy slurred. “Death is the brother of Sleep.”
---
Previous Chapter - Next Chapter
---
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 Four, in which Andy is spotted in his underwear, and things continue to be complicated.
Ianto sat at the boardroom workstation and processed row after row of figures. He glanced occasionally at the Rift monitoring program displayed on the widescreen plasma television that hung at one end of the room. He nibbled at the cap to his pen, which he occasionally held in his teeth between bouts of note taking.
Rift-related phenomena did occasionally occur in the Hub. Items – and people, he reminded himself with a wry smirk – appeared or disappeared from time to time. Phantom sounds and lights sometimes set off sensor arrays and alarms. The frequency of these anomalies had increased since Bilis Manger had tricked them into tearing open the Rift, and Ianto had been trying to record each occurrence as completely as possible in hopes of understanding the mechanics at work.
He was documenting this afternoon’s incident with the coffee mugs – some sort of temporal artifact or time leak, he guessed – but he couldn’t pinpoint the anomaly that had caused it. There didn’t seem to be one. The data was clean. Ianto pinched the bridge of his nose and let his head fall forward. There had to be something here. What was he missing? He punched in the time stamps a fifth time and began again.
“You’re in late,” Jack said softly as he entered. He was in his sock feet and his braces hung at his sides. His white t-shirt was luminous in the half-light.
“Force of habit,” Ianto replied without looking up. “Plus, tonight’s my night for monitoring duty. I owed Andy.”
“And here I was hoping you’d stayed here for me,” Jack teased as he came to stand behind Ianto’s chair, resting his hands on the younger man’s shoulders. He drew back when Ianto didn’t respond to his words or his touch. “Ever since you brought me back to the Hub you’ve been distant. You’re avoiding me. Mind letting me in on what I did wrong?”
Ianto dropped his pen onto the desk and closed his eyes. “Nothing. Things are just... Complicated.”
“Complicated?” Jack’s eyebrow arched.
Ianto ran his fingers through his hair and avoided Jack’s eyes. He took slow, deep breath. He’d tried pretending indifference with Owen earlier, but now that this conversation was happening with Jack, Ianto felt like he was drowning.
“I’m seeing Owen,” he started, and then thought better of it. “Well, I was. I think I may have broken it off with him this afternoon. Unless he’s the one who ended it when he threw me out of his flat the night I stole you out of the morgue. Like I said, it’s –”
“Whoa. Yeah, okay. Complicated.” Jack sat down on the edge of the boardroom table. He looked equal parts surprised and crestfallen, and maybe like he was trying to do a bit of difficult math in his head as he tried to assimilate this new bit of information.
“He needed someone, Jack, and I thought you were gone forever. It worked better than you’d think, actually, but now that you’re back, he’s all wrong. It’s like,” Ianto paused, looking for the right words. “It’s like putting nacho cheese on a banana split. Except I don’t think he sees it that way.”
“Why not?”
“Because I never let go of you. Owen got to where he is now mostly on his own. It was a natural trajectory. Meanwhile, I only moved on because that’s what the living do. We move on.” Ianto fidgeted with his shirt cuffs, still stubbornly refusing eye contact.
Jack considered this for a moment. He looked down at the palms of his hands, his expression lined with regret. “Would it be easier if I left?”
“No!” Ianto gasped, jumping up and gripping Jack firmly by the wrist. It took him a moment to realize what he’d done, and he muttered an apology as he loosened his grasp.
“I just need some time to sort things out, and let things cool off between me and Owen. I’m not rejecting you, Jack. I’m just struggling a little with the circumstances.” He sat back down in the workstation chair. “I just wish I knew how to handle this gracefully.”
Jack reached over and stroked Ianto’s hair. “I’m not making you choose, if that’s what you’re thinking. You know I don’t expect exclusivity. If you want Owen –”
Ianto raised his head and gave Jack an incredulous look.
“Look, I’m just saying I don’t object,” Jack added hurriedly. “Sure, it sounds a little crazy to me – I’m used to the two of you being at each other’s throats, not each other’s zippers – but I can adapt. I’m a big kid. I can share my toys.”
Jack slid his hand under Ianto’s jaw and kissed him lightly on the forehead. “It’s okay. Whatever you need to do.”
“Thank you.” Ianto relaxed visibly and stretched his shoulders with a groan. He caught a flicker on the Rift monitor readout in his peripheral vision and turned his head to watch the numbers scroll past.
“So what’s so interesting that you’re spending the night up here crunching numbers instead of spending it in bed with me?” Jack asked, instantly back into his usual smirk and swagger.
Ianto passed him a plain white ceramic mug. Jack examined the outside, then glanced inside and wrinkled his nose. “Okay, that’s kind of disgusting.”
“That’s from this afternoon.”
Jack balked. “What, like you found it this afternoon in that towering jumble of filth Owen claims is his desk?”
“No, as in this contained fresh coffee earlier this afternoon, and that somewhere between my picking it up to wash it and putting it in the sink, it went all putrid. I’m trying to document the time glitch, but the Rift monitors don’t seem to have picked anything up. I can’t identify any other causal factors, though.”
“That is weird.” Jack handed the mug back to Ianto. “Still, if you can’t find anything, there’s no sense in banging your head against it all night. ”
“I suppose you’re right.” Ianto scowled at the mug briefly before setting it down on his notebook.
“Come on,” Jack said as he gave Ianto’s fingers a squeeze. “Let me take you home.”
Andy awoke with a scream ripping its way out of his throat. He sat up, sweat drenched and panting. He whipped around to check his bed for the thing that had, in his dream, been strangling him. He could still feel it wrapping around his mouth and throat, stealing his breath and jamming him so far down into his head that he couldn’t move. In the end, he managed only to tangle himself further in his own sweat-damp sheets.
The clock at his bedside read 4:22 AM.
He groaned as he rubbed his eyes. He wouldn’t be getting any more sleep this morning, that was for sure. Maybe he could have a nice hot shower and some sweet, milky tea. If he was still restless after that, he’d maybe surf around a bit online before work. That’s what he needed. Sane, day-to-day creature comfort things would put his mind at ease before another day hunting aliens.
Hunting aliens, he snorted as he checked his face in the mirror. Flipping Nora. What a life. No wonder I’m having bloody nightmares.
Andy had only just switched on his bedside lamp and picked his way out of bed when his mobile rang. He swore under his breath and picked it up without checking the caller ID.
“Good morning, Sunshine!” a voice crowed at him before he had a chance to finish his own baffled hello.
“Jack? What the –“ he sputtered. “Is that you?”
“Of course. Who else calls at half four in the morning?” He’s completely chirpy, Andy groaned inwardly. That’s unnatural.
“Um. No one. Including you.”
“Yeah, well, I figured it was time to rectify that situation. Plus, Owen and I are outside in the SUV. Nice briefs, by the way.”
Andy looked down at his Andrew Christians, then up at his bedroom window. Jack flashed the headlights on the SUV. Andy tugged his blinds down with a huff.
“I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Don’t keep us waiting. Oh, and bring a change of clothes.”
Ianto arrived early with the intention looking over the Rift data again. He’d found the Hub deserted and set to night time efficiency mode.
He checked Jack’s office, but it was empty and Jack's quarters were closed. Ianto thought instantly of the previous night’s conversation and had to fight down panic as he went through the morning start-up checklist. Jack wouldn’t leave them, would he? Not without saying anything, at least.
Just keep telling yourself that, the cruel little voice in his head told him. It reminded him unsettlingly of Owen.
He’d made his way almost halfway down the list when found a bright yellow sticky note on his coffee machine.
Kisses,
Jack.
Ianto smiled, tucked the note into his wallet, and started the coffee. Take that, you bastard, he told his inner critic with a fair amount of glee.
Toshiko arrived not long after, and the two of them decided to enjoy an impromptu breakfast of leftover bagels and fruit in the boardroom. He showed her the coffee mug.
“Did you check the environmental logs?” she asked, wheels already turning in her head. “What about the ventilation filters? Oh, and the air handlers?”
“Yep. Everything was clean. Even the Rift was uncharacteristically quiet.”
She popped a chunk of melon into her mouth, and then wiped her hands clean on a napkin. “Well, in that case I agree with Jack’s assessment. File it under unexplained until we get more data. Speaking of which, how are you two?”
“It’s complicated.”
Toshiko cracked a grin. “I’ll bet. Does he know about Owen yet?”
Ianto sighed. “Yes, and I think he’s angling for a threesome.”
Tosh giggled.
“It’s not funny! I mean, really! Can you imagine? Jack and Owen. Jack and Owen.” He gave her his best stricken expression.
Toshiko burst into a fresh fit of laughter.
Ianto sighed theatrically and stood to clear away their left-overs. “Swear to me that you won’t utter a word of this to Andy. Or Owen. Or anyone.”
“Fine, fine,” she snorted into her coffee. “Can I help you with any of that?”
He looked over their spread. “Sure. If you could carry the fruit, it would save me a second trip.”
Tosh gathered up what was left of the grapes and melon chunks and followed Ianto to the kitchenette. She knelt down to open the small refrigerator and gagged, hand over her mouth.
“Oh my god, what died in there?”
“That’s bizarre,” Ianto said and crouched down to investigate. Something about this made him nervous. The hairs on his arms and neck stood up. “It was just fine before breakfast.”
Tosh dashed down the steps to her workstation. “I’m bringing up the Rift and environmental data for the last thirty minutes. Can you verify that the refrigerator isn’t suffering some kind of mechanical failure?”
“This didn’t happen in thirty minutes, Tosh." Ianto looked skeptical, and more than a little repulsed.
“No, but any data in this instance could help us pinpoint the anomaly.”
“Right. Of course.” Ianto went to fetch gloves and a mask. He was not going to enjoy this.
“Do you think maybe – just maybe – we could do this without getting filthy next time?” Owen whined as he slid out of the SUV. He was sopping wet, still covered in grime, and he stank.
“What’s wrong, Owen? I thought you liked it dirty.”
“Sod off, Harkness. Like you’d know,” he grumbled.
“Hey, it’s not like I haven’t offered.” The Captain winked at him as he tugged off the sodden mess of greatcoat that hung from his shoulders. It landed on the concrete of the garage floor with a wet squish. He unlaced his boots and tried to yank them off. They made wet sucking sounds as he pried his feet free. “Let’s take the worst bits off here, and then hit the showers. Ianto will never forgive us if we track this stuff all over the Hub.”
Andy was already standing half undressed, squeezing the water out of his jeans. “At least we found that pulse mine in time. Ten more minutes and boom! Smoking crater where Splott used to be.”
Owen snorted. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
Jack glanced at Andy in time to see him pull a face, mouth Owen’s words back to him silently, and roll his eyes. Jack smirked. Owen fumed.
They took the inside passage to find Toshiko and Ianto already hard at work. Neither of them particularly noticed the three half-naked men who’d suddenly appeared in their midst.
“If I’d known that showing up to work in my underwear got me such a warm reception, I’d have changed the dress code a long time ago.” Jack dropped the containment box next to Tosh’s workstation and crossed his arms to pout.
“Yeah, but what would the casual Friday look like?” Andy deadpanned, cocking his head to one side.
“Sorry,” Tosh said, gifting Andy with a bemused wink. “We had another Rift-related temporal irregularity this morning.”
“Anything I need to be worried about?” Jack asked, peeking over Toshiko’s shoulder to examine her work.
Tosh shook her head. “Not sure. I hope to know something in the next thirty minutes or so.”
“Alright, then. Owen, Andy, let’s go clean up.”
Torchwood Three’s base had always been a strange combination of cutting edge, alien influence, and anachronism. Their computer system exemplified this. It was super-powerful – well beyond modern standards – and their terminals and peripherals were usually the best money could buy, but the actual core was housed in a Victorian shell in a dusty chamber below the archive.
The Hub, the cells, and the autopsy bay were all like this. After a while, the incongruity of it all started to blend into a coherent aesthetic.
The locker room area, however, was a notable exception. Built well before the age of pleasurable modern hygiene, it was a pure antique that bore creaky testimony to the fact that very few if any twentieth century plumbers had also been cut out for hunting aliens. There was a trick to everything from getting the water going in the first place to keeping it comfortable. Fortunately, Jack knew them all. He started up the taps before retrieving his shower caddy from his locker.
Andy and Owen were already lathering up when he entered the stalls. This was one of the best parts of his job, Jack mused. There was always a great view. He hummed as he scrubbed and lathered away the grime, enjoying the smell of soap and shampoo and making a special effort to get the gunk out of his hair. Hot water was wonderful stuff.
There was a clatter from the far corner as a shampoo bottle crashed to the ground. It was followed by a groan and the wet crack of skin hitting tile floor.
Jack spun around to see Andy sprawling across the tiles, eyes wide. Owen scrambled over to where he lay and dropped to his knees. He rolled the other man onto his back and elevated his legs. Owen swept a finger into Andy’s mouth to check his airway.
“Oi! Andy, mate, can you hear me?” Owen said, waving his hand in front of Andy’s face. “Jack, turn off this tap and get me some towels.”
“Death,” Andy slurred. “Death is the brother of Sleep.”
---
Previous Chapter - Next Chapter
---