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antigwenallies Feb. 15th, 2009 09:50 pm)
adia313.livejournal.com posting in antigwenallies Feb. 15th, 2009 09:50 pm)Title: A Quiet Night in Wales
Pairings: Rhys/Gwen, Jack/Ianto; unrequited Jack/Gwen
Spoilers: entire series
Warnings: Language, off-screen violence, adult themes
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Jack tells Ianto how Gwen’s seminar at UNIT ended in her gruesome death.
Word Count: ~1000
http://adia313.livejournal.com/5946.html
Part 4.1
I’m back after a long absence. A lot has been going on in real life (all good, but it’s made things hectic), but now I’m back. Thank you for sticking with this story!
I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. There will be an epilogue up soon, I hope.
I’ll appreciate any feedback you have a chance to offer.
*
They needed to get the funeral arrangements made quickly, Jack had warned him at his arrival at the UNIT base, and they had. The night before, though, Ianto hadn’t been able to do anything useful. His clearance wasn’t high enough to get him anywhere near Jack or Gwen’s body. He still wasn’t complaining. He hadn’t exactly wanted to see Gwen. At five in the morning, when Jack had made his way into the secretary’s office where Ianto and Rhys were waiting, Jack had driven them straight to a Victorian mansion that had been converted. And now, with Rhys ret-conned into oblivion upstairs, he was sitting down to eggs, bacon, a decadent fruit salad, and a bottomless cup of coffee.
UNIT reserved the B&B for its highest ranked visiting dignitaries. Between the orange light from the rising sun and the flickering firelight, the perfectly pressed linen tablecloths and napkins, the gold plated utensils, the delicate china, the room had an otherworldly feel. Nothing that was happening felt real. Sitting down to an elegant breakfast after a teammate died made Ianto feel… oddly like he had after Canary Wharf, when he was so high from the anti-anxiety medication and painkillers that every time the medicine wore off, he had to remind himself of what was real and what he had hallucinated…
Was she really dead?
Jack loudly drained the rest of his coffee, and Ianto quietly asked, “Do you have to go back to UNIT now?”
“Not yet.”
Ianto stared across the small, round table into the older man’s alert eyes. “I don’t suppose that you’ll change your mind and let me come?”
Firmly, Jack answered, “No. I don’t want you to see Gwen.”
Sometimes Ianto had to remind himself that, when Jack spoke to him in that condescending tone, it wasn’t really condescending—or, if it was, then Jack had every right to condescend to Ianto. After all, Jack was a hundred years older than Ianto by Ianto’s most conservative estimates.
“I’m capable of making my own decisions. Don’t start this again,” Ianto said.
“You’re right,” Jack grumbled. “I’m sorry.”
It was an unusual thing for Jack to admit that he was wrong, so Ianto decided not to press it. Instead, hesitantly, Ianto asked, “Will you—will you tell me what happened to her?”
There were times, few and far between, when Jack looked his age. The moment that question left his mouth, Ianto regretted it; Jack looked ready to collapse. “There are some things I can’t tell you. You don’t have clearance.”
Annoyed at the copout, Ianto snapped, “You’re the head of Torchwood; I’m your operative. I have clearance to know everything you want to tell me.”
“Usually, that’s true, but your clearance in UNIT isn’t high enough for this information.”
“Gwen doesn’t—didn’t—have higher clearance than me.”
“That’s part of the problem,” Jack said heavily. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily. “They were running a training scenario. Something about what to do if there was an incursion of the base. It’s called Protocol--”
“Protocol 74,” Ianto said softly. “London ran it the third Thursday of every month.”
Jack rolled his eyes. “Of course they did. Well, Gwen didn’t seem to get that it was a training scenario.”
“What do you mean?”
“The other trainees in her class told me that she started to scream at the lieutenant not to try to protect them. Apparently, she was very insistent that they could ban together and protect the base. Wales. The world. Whatever. She didn’t believe the lieutenant, and she chose that moment to prove herself. She broke into a room down the corridor from her classroom. One of the girls in her class said that she was trying to find weapons.
“Why didn’t they stop her?”
“No one could tell me when she left the room. Apparently she didn’t really make substantive contributions to the class. I watched the CCTV; she just sort of… wandered into the warehouse… everything was opened because they were getting a shipment from the Munich office… I can’t tell you what she touched, but—well, you’re old enough to remember Bill Addison, right? From Glasgow?”
Ianto blanched. He wasn’t old enough to remember Bill Addison, but he was young enough to have been told the horror story. He’d activated a weapon that had fallen through the Rift. It scrambled his insides like an egg and then evaporated the left side of his body. According to Lisa, they’d literally shoveled steaming viscera into the coffin before nailing it shut. Then, they called his wife.
“God,” Ianto whispered.
“It was bad.”
“Why wasn’t it locked away?”
“It had just gotten there.”
“And why the hell did she touch it?”
“I don’t know,” Jack grumbled.
“Is she—Where is she?”
“She’s in the basement. She’s been frozen for transport.”
“I guess… That’s that, then.”
Jack nodded slowly. “If she’d just taken a second to think about what was happening, to consider that someone else might actually know what they were talking about, or even just treated alien technology with the respect it deserves…”
Internally, Ianto breathed a sigh of relief. He had been worried that Jack would beat himself up over Gwen’s death. But he seemed, even from this early stage, to be assigning blame exactly where it belonged.
His gaze fixed on the table, Jack mumbled, “She was an idiot, wasn’t she?”
“She was a lady and a senior officer, Jack.”
“She was an idiot, though.”
“Yeah,” Ianto sighed. “She was completely unaware of what was going on around her.”
“I’m sorry, Ianto,” Jack murmured.
“What are you talking about?”
“There were times—over the last couple years, there have been times when I listened to Gwen and ignored you. I didn’t—I don’t know what it was, if I was just taken in, or… But I’m sorry. I should have trusted you. And I know that I owe Owen and Toshiko apologies, too, but I thought it would be best for me to start with you.”
Ianto didn’t know what to say. So he let his hand wander into Jack’s. Ianto kissed Jack’s hand, and for a long time, he held Jack’s hand there, against his lips, and they sat silently at the table, waiting for the dust of Gwen Cooper’s death to settle around them.
*
Pairings: Rhys/Gwen, Jack/Ianto; unrequited Jack/Gwen
Spoilers: entire series
Warnings: Language, off-screen violence, adult themes
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Jack tells Ianto how Gwen’s seminar at UNIT ended in her gruesome death.
Word Count: ~1000
http://adia313.livejournal.com/5946.html
Part 4.1
I’m back after a long absence. A lot has been going on in real life (all good, but it’s made things hectic), but now I’m back. Thank you for sticking with this story!
I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. There will be an epilogue up soon, I hope.
I’ll appreciate any feedback you have a chance to offer.
*
They needed to get the funeral arrangements made quickly, Jack had warned him at his arrival at the UNIT base, and they had. The night before, though, Ianto hadn’t been able to do anything useful. His clearance wasn’t high enough to get him anywhere near Jack or Gwen’s body. He still wasn’t complaining. He hadn’t exactly wanted to see Gwen. At five in the morning, when Jack had made his way into the secretary’s office where Ianto and Rhys were waiting, Jack had driven them straight to a Victorian mansion that had been converted. And now, with Rhys ret-conned into oblivion upstairs, he was sitting down to eggs, bacon, a decadent fruit salad, and a bottomless cup of coffee.
UNIT reserved the B&B for its highest ranked visiting dignitaries. Between the orange light from the rising sun and the flickering firelight, the perfectly pressed linen tablecloths and napkins, the gold plated utensils, the delicate china, the room had an otherworldly feel. Nothing that was happening felt real. Sitting down to an elegant breakfast after a teammate died made Ianto feel… oddly like he had after Canary Wharf, when he was so high from the anti-anxiety medication and painkillers that every time the medicine wore off, he had to remind himself of what was real and what he had hallucinated…
Was she really dead?
Jack loudly drained the rest of his coffee, and Ianto quietly asked, “Do you have to go back to UNIT now?”
“Not yet.”
Ianto stared across the small, round table into the older man’s alert eyes. “I don’t suppose that you’ll change your mind and let me come?”
Firmly, Jack answered, “No. I don’t want you to see Gwen.”
Sometimes Ianto had to remind himself that, when Jack spoke to him in that condescending tone, it wasn’t really condescending—or, if it was, then Jack had every right to condescend to Ianto. After all, Jack was a hundred years older than Ianto by Ianto’s most conservative estimates.
“I’m capable of making my own decisions. Don’t start this again,” Ianto said.
“You’re right,” Jack grumbled. “I’m sorry.”
It was an unusual thing for Jack to admit that he was wrong, so Ianto decided not to press it. Instead, hesitantly, Ianto asked, “Will you—will you tell me what happened to her?”
There were times, few and far between, when Jack looked his age. The moment that question left his mouth, Ianto regretted it; Jack looked ready to collapse. “There are some things I can’t tell you. You don’t have clearance.”
Annoyed at the copout, Ianto snapped, “You’re the head of Torchwood; I’m your operative. I have clearance to know everything you want to tell me.”
“Usually, that’s true, but your clearance in UNIT isn’t high enough for this information.”
“Gwen doesn’t—didn’t—have higher clearance than me.”
“That’s part of the problem,” Jack said heavily. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily. “They were running a training scenario. Something about what to do if there was an incursion of the base. It’s called Protocol--”
“Protocol 74,” Ianto said softly. “London ran it the third Thursday of every month.”
Jack rolled his eyes. “Of course they did. Well, Gwen didn’t seem to get that it was a training scenario.”
“What do you mean?”
“The other trainees in her class told me that she started to scream at the lieutenant not to try to protect them. Apparently, she was very insistent that they could ban together and protect the base. Wales. The world. Whatever. She didn’t believe the lieutenant, and she chose that moment to prove herself. She broke into a room down the corridor from her classroom. One of the girls in her class said that she was trying to find weapons.
“Why didn’t they stop her?”
“No one could tell me when she left the room. Apparently she didn’t really make substantive contributions to the class. I watched the CCTV; she just sort of… wandered into the warehouse… everything was opened because they were getting a shipment from the Munich office… I can’t tell you what she touched, but—well, you’re old enough to remember Bill Addison, right? From Glasgow?”
Ianto blanched. He wasn’t old enough to remember Bill Addison, but he was young enough to have been told the horror story. He’d activated a weapon that had fallen through the Rift. It scrambled his insides like an egg and then evaporated the left side of his body. According to Lisa, they’d literally shoveled steaming viscera into the coffin before nailing it shut. Then, they called his wife.
“God,” Ianto whispered.
“It was bad.”
“Why wasn’t it locked away?”
“It had just gotten there.”
“And why the hell did she touch it?”
“I don’t know,” Jack grumbled.
“Is she—Where is she?”
“She’s in the basement. She’s been frozen for transport.”
“I guess… That’s that, then.”
Jack nodded slowly. “If she’d just taken a second to think about what was happening, to consider that someone else might actually know what they were talking about, or even just treated alien technology with the respect it deserves…”
Internally, Ianto breathed a sigh of relief. He had been worried that Jack would beat himself up over Gwen’s death. But he seemed, even from this early stage, to be assigning blame exactly where it belonged.
His gaze fixed on the table, Jack mumbled, “She was an idiot, wasn’t she?”
“She was a lady and a senior officer, Jack.”
“She was an idiot, though.”
“Yeah,” Ianto sighed. “She was completely unaware of what was going on around her.”
“I’m sorry, Ianto,” Jack murmured.
“What are you talking about?”
“There were times—over the last couple years, there have been times when I listened to Gwen and ignored you. I didn’t—I don’t know what it was, if I was just taken in, or… But I’m sorry. I should have trusted you. And I know that I owe Owen and Toshiko apologies, too, but I thought it would be best for me to start with you.”
Ianto didn’t know what to say. So he let his hand wander into Jack’s. Ianto kissed Jack’s hand, and for a long time, he held Jack’s hand there, against his lips, and they sat silently at the table, waiting for the dust of Gwen Cooper’s death to settle around them.
*
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Great work. =)
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Just kidding.
Oh no, you killed Gwen! Who are we going to make fun of and poke with a stick, now? Hm? Did you ever think of that? Ah, well, at least the rest of her team (Ianto ♥) is now safe from her stupidity.
I really enjoyed this story of yours. Thank you for the entertainment.
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