#also as you can see i have decided that ianto and tosh are my two current favourites

[captainfairygodmother]

Watching Torchwood for the first time, I'm just about to go on to EP9 (I only started watching it yesterday afternoon), so here's some of my favourite commentary bits that I've sent to @ddrunkbard :

[dinodina]

For the Touching prompts, would you feel like writing either 21 or 45 for Jack and Ianto?

From this.

21 - kissing the other's brow, 45 - feeling their temperature I wanted to do both, but Jack decided to be stubborn and change the mood, so have 45! Thank you so much! <3

Summer came over Cardiff slowly, unsure at first if it wanted to stay; after several weeks, it had made up its mind, and the Hub was the only place in the city that was not whirring with fans and air conditioners. It was a relief until the team's summer wear was exchanged for blankets and jumpers, until the underground base felt like one of Owen's autopsy lockers and the intense heat outside became a temptation.

Not that it lasted long.

"Cardiff can handle itself," Owen grumbled, plopping down at his desk and leaning back in his chair to fully appreciate the cool air.

Tosh nodded, doing the same at her own desk. Then frowned. "Can it?"

"We should give it a fighting chance," Gwen suggested. She was regretting that her shirt covered her shoulders and that the Weevil they'd been chasing hadn't been sympathetic to their heat-induced apathy—the sheer fact that they'd had to chase it was testament to that.

Jack and Ianto—forgoing a greatcoat and suit, respectively, in deference to the weather—were still at the door. It wasn't often that the whole team was called out to catch a Weevil, but it was a special case when it was rampaging through the city and no one knew exactly where it was. Now, it was unconscious in the SUV.

“Get something to drink, I’ll get it out,” Jack said, a hand on Ianto’s arm to push him towards the kitchenette.

“I can help.”

“Can you?” Jack didn’t wait for an answer and reached out to feel Ianto’s forehead. “You should see Owen.”

“I’m fine.” Yet Ianto didn’t bat his hand away; it was cool against his own overheated skin.

“You should see Owen. Sit down. Drink something.” Jack gestured to the others with his free hand. “Get them something to drink, too, if that convinces you.”

Ianto fixed him with a look that wasn’t as impressive as it was supposed to be, his eyes tired and his hair beginning to curl with sweat. No one looked much better. He sighed and relaxed his shoulders—it was easier to feel the relief of the cold—and turned on his heel.

Jack counted it as a win, gave a sigh of his own, and retreated to the garage to deal with the Weevil. Unlike the others, heat stroke would only have a mild effect on him.

When Jack came back, SUV cleaned and the Weevil in the cells, he wanted nothing other than a cold shower and an even colder drink. He also wanted to check on Ianto, who had seemed to have the same idea, which killed two birds with one stone.

Jack stripped quickly, too hot to check for Ianto’s reaction, and stepped under the cool spray, heaving a sigh of relief. “How’s everyone?”

“Enjoying some iced coffee.” Ianto was stripping, too, and stepping under another showerhead. Bless the Hub designers.

Jack chuckled. “Lowering your standards?”

“Nothing about my iced coffee is low-standard.”

“Of course not.”

[this-is-quite-homoerotic]

Yo! What did you think of the Expectant audio? I think it's the only TW audio that I listened to and thought mmm, that could've been so much more :( I get that it needed to have action and adventure but it kinda felt really obvious that the writer wasn't comfortable with Barrowman's dream. I think I expected better after how good so many audios like Broken have been :(

I’ll forgo spoilers in the first part for those who haven’t listened to the audio but might be interested in seeing a review, but there’ll be spoilers under the cut!

Anon, I agree with you! It definitely could have been so much better. I actually like the concept of the audio a lot, but the execution was... not to my taste, let’s say. To be fair, it really is a matter of taste, I personally didn’t like the humour, it did not mesh well with my sensibilities, though I also think it felt... outdated? I’m talking specifically about the sense of humour here.

The kind of jokes they made felt like something I might have found funny in the early 2000s when I didn’t know any better, before I examined some of the tropes/messages/expectations I’d absorbed from society and media (more about this under the cut because spoilers). The thing that bothered me the most about it was that it felt to me like the humour in it had not caught up to 2020 sensibilities, and Expectant is, first and foremost, a comedy piece. So if the humour’s failing then that’s a big problem.

Your mileage may vary, though, humour is a matter of taste after all. Interestingly, I actually think John Barrowman enjoyed the script and had fun getting to act it out? This is just the impression I got (certainly, he might have played it a bit differently if he didn’t), and I think this might be a generational thing as well as a matter of taste and sense of humour.

Spoilers below

As I said, I actually love the general concept of the audio: Jack, grieving and at a loss for what to do in the face of losing half his team, offers to carry an old alien friend’s child for them when political scheming means the unborn child might be in danger, in the hopes of ensuring the child’s safety, political stability for several planets, and (it is implied) as a symbol of hope that there’s good things in the universe too, not just loss and devastation.

There are obvious obstacles to Jack carrying a pregnancy while still being an active Torchwood agent, which is an interesting and fun thing that’s explored from the first scene: Jack has got used to being immortal and doing his job might well get him killed. Normally this isn’t a problem but if he dies while pregnant the baby can die too. But Torchwood is understaffed and still adapting to being a three-person team, so Jack has agreed to carrying the baby only if he can keep on working.

An interesting premise, vaguely tied in with a big moment from the show and the emotional fallout which wasn’t explored much in the show itself (Tosh and Owen’s deaths and how they affected Jack), some stakes from the get-go, plus a new original alien character (Jonty). So far, so good.

There are two main things that got in the way of me enjoying the audio: 1) how Jack was depicted as being hysterical during the pregnancy (and this being played for laughs), and 2) the indirect fatshaming (literally why, this was so unnecessary).

In the first case, they decided to write Jack as so emotionally unbalanced by the hormonal changes of the pregnancy that he had severe mood swings, with him breaking down crying supposedly triggered by insignificant things (like when he cries over a cupcake? Or something similar, I can’t be bothered to check). Jack having a meltdown would not be a bad thing to explore in an audio, except it felt to me as though they were using it as a joke? Like a “ha ha look how messed up he is by being pregnant, he’s so hormonal and out of control, isn’t that hilarious? Isn’t it so funny that this character is breaking down like a hormonal woman? Isn’t his pain just the funniest thing you’ve heard? :))))” (Sidenote but I also felt like John Barrowman overacted in these scenes, it didn’t sound like he was crying, it sounded like he was play-acting crying, and that didn’t help.)

The second thing was the whole fat camp-style spa subplot. While trying to get Jack to safety, Jonty takes Jack, who is heavily pregnant and showing, to a ““health spa”“ (read: weight-loss place) where Jack is put under a strict unhealthily-restrictive diet (especially given that he’s pregnant??), controlled by the overbearing spa lady (she literally takes food off his hands and watches him like a hawk to make sure he doesn’t “”overeat””), repeatedly fat-shamed, and this is all presented as a funny gag, presumably because he’s not really fat, he’s just pregnant! But people don’t know because he’s male/male-presenting, so all the micro-aggressions and abuse he’s subjected to are funny, right? Jack not being allowed to eat despite being hungry and heavily-pregnant is totally something to laugh at, surely (/s).

Disclaimer: this is not actually portrayed as though the fat-shaming is righteous and just behaviour, it’s sort of implied that the “”health-nuts”“ running the place were obsessive and weird, but that doesn’t change the fact that the whole subplot could have been something else entirely? Like, they obviously thought this was funny. Also, I won’t get into specifics but I am personally sensitive to these issues, so I can definitely see how some people might not be turned off by this at all; as I said, your mileage may vary and this is my own take on it.

So, these are my main issues with the audio. I don’t think the writer was uncomfortable with the concept as you say, Anon; I’d actually argue the opposite. It’s just that their take on it and their sense of humour were maybe not very in-tune with modern sensibilities (or with mine, at least) and the story suffered for it.

They took a look at the idea (a male/male-presenting character being pregnant) and came up with the worst tired comedy tropes for it: mood swings (and the resulting distress) played up for laughs, an emphasis on how big the character got being made fun of/criticised with an incomprehensible fatshaming subplot, they even threw in a reference that Jack’s previous pregnancy (mentioned in his first line in ep 1 of Torchwood) was a student prank (because men being pregnant is funny, I guess). Okay, that last one is a bit unfair, I just didn’t like it. They could have made Jack’s first pregnancy something meaningful (him carrying a friend’s child as a surrogate out of love for that friend, him carrying his own child born out of a relationship, etc.) but instead they made it into a cheap one-liner joke, and yeah it does fit into the tone of the audio, but that’s the problem: I did not like the overall tone of it.

There were some scenes with Ianto that were nice, and a couple of Owen and Tosh mentions that I enjoyed, and it’s interesting that you mention the action and adventure in your ask because I actually didn’t mind those aspects at all? The action was fine with me, it was the non-action parts mostly that bothered me (the emotional tone and sense of humour like I said).

This is probably more thoughts that you wanted but I was quite disappointed with this one (and I was so looking forward to canon mpreg), so I thought I’d take the opportunity to explain why. I do acknowledge that it was a matter of my own sense of humour and sensibilities not meshing well with the writer’s (I just checked and to my shock the writer is a woman; I would have put money on them being a cis man).

This one missed the mark with me. Badly.

[gmariam321]

Christmas Kitsch

I finished my holiday story! And I’m posting it here since I shared so many excerpts. And so I can work up the courage to put it on AO3, although it won’t be my worst holiday story there. Still, it’s not what I envisioned when I started, as the dark twist (and two half chapters) were tabled for another story. I do hope someone enjoys a laugh or two. Happy Holidays!

Christmas Kitsch

Jack was tired of running.

Once, it had been fun. That had been with the Doctor, always running from danger. It had been adventurous, exciting—even back when the possibility of death had been very real. He hadn't been scared because he'd been with the Doctor, and somehow the Doctor always made things right. "Everybody lives!" he'd exclaim, and they were off on the next adventure.

Jack knew better now. After over a hundred years, he knew that not everybody lived, and he was tired of it. Running wasn't fun, or exciting. It was endless and terrifying and Jack was tired of running.

Especially running after alien elves stealing every Santa Claus in the city.

Ridiculous.

Jack had lived through some tough holidays: wars, epidemics, that one year with his in-laws. He'd watched London experience some strange Christmases, even sat back and laughed a few times. But this one…this was just absurd. If it hadn't been Christmas and he hadn't had plans with Ianto, it might have been somewhat funny, but even Owen was sick of trying to make elf jokes after spending twelve hours chasing the damn things around town on Christmas Eve.

Who stole Santa Claus? Only aliens. And they looked like something straight out of a Marks and Spencer catalog from Mars. Smartly dressed right down to the shiny boots and matching hats, they were more high society teenaged sprites than overworked elves from the North Pole. Jack wanted them gone.

They were fast, and sneaky, and they had a mischievous streak a mile long. They were obsessed with Santa Claus, and every statue, doll, picture or light-up monstrosity in the city had been targeted, with dozens gone missing. Even a few real-life Santas had been harassed. But they were finally closing in, and Jack hoped that within an hour the elves be in the cells so he could finally put on his holiday jumper, take it off, and start celebrating properly with Ianto.

Then again, things never went as hoped in Torchwood.

Tosh was the first to go down. They were tracking the elves through the first floor of Queen's Arcade. It was dark and silent aside from the sad notes of a music box playing Wham from somewhere in Argos. They walked with weapons drawn, constantly scanning for elves, until something came flying at them from above and hit Tosh hard on the head; she fell immediately, landing awkwardly on her arm and hitting her head again. Owen called out and they immediately surrounded their downed teammate while he examined her.

"She's out cold," Owen announced. "And she fell on her arm, wrist looks broken or sprained. I should get her back to the Hub."

"What happened?" asked Gwen.

"This," Owen replied, and he held up a large ceramic St Nicholas with a crack in it. "It's a bloody Christmas ornament."

"Ornaments don't usually knock people out," said Jack.

"Apparently solid ones thrown with enough force can," Owen replied, tossing it up to Jack; it was hideous and heavy. "These buggers must be strong. Where the hell did it come from?"

"John Lewis," said Ianto, shrugging when everyone looked at him. "Saw them there last week."

"Who were you shopping for in John Lewis?" Gwen asked with a teasing smile. Jack rolled his eyes before Ianto could even start to reply.

"Later, Gwen. We need to focus." He glanced around the arcade, checking the upper level. He didn't want to abandon the chase, but he didn't want to leave Tosh unconscious and alone either.

"Let's head to the SUV, and you can take her back to the Hub," Jack decided, and he picked her up. "Cover me from more Santa bombs."

Gwen took point while Ianto followed behind, walking backward to cover them. Owen walked beside Jack, protecting Tosh, until something wet and sticky exploded nearby with a squelching sound. Once more the team closed in, protecting Jack and Tosh. But it was Owen who was hit this time.

"Bloody hell, it's a pudding," he said. "I'm covered in a fucking Christmas pudding."

"Probably got that at Waitrose," Ianto said, his weapon trained on the upper level once more. An evil sounding giggle echoed around them.

"They're shit, Rhys's mum got one last year," Gwen said.

"Would you two stop it with the shopping tips?" Jack snapped. "Let's move, before we're all Christmas casualties."

Ianto and Gwen remained thankfully quiet, and they made it out to the SUV without any more attacks. Tosh came to as Jack laid her down in the back seat. She saw Owen, covered in sticky fruit, and frowned. "Why are you covered in pudding?"

"Same reason you've got a sore head," he said. "Which is also why we get a break from elf wrangling."

Though he didn't see him, Jack could feel Ianto rolling his eyes somewhere behind him. "They're not actually elves, Owen. "

"Whatever, shop boy. They look like elves and are obsessed with Santa. Good enough for me."

Ianto gave an overdramatic sigh laced with long suffering impatience. "They're called Dryadalis. They're from the planet Aquilo, and they worship an ancient deity dressed in red furs known as Paternivei.  They're not stealing Santa, they're releasing the icons of their god from bondage."

Jack and Gwen turned and stared at him in disbelief. "You're joking," said Gwen.

"I don't joke about aliens." Jack suspected he was making it all up, but while Ianto had an impressive poker face, he did know everything, so it could be completely true.

"How do you know all that?" demanded Owen. "And why didn't you tell us sooner?"

"Haven't had a chance 'till now," Ianto replied. "And it was in a Torchwood One file. Always interesting in London at Christmas."

"You're taking the piss," Owen insisted.

"Maybe," said Ianto. "And maybe they shit marshmellows."

Once again Jack stepped in; apparently his team was feeling the holiday stress, if Ianto's sky high sass was anything to go by. "Whatever they are, let's finish this. Owen, you and Tosh go back to the Hub, get fixed up, and meet us wherever we tell you to meet us."

"Will do, boss," said Owen, and he threw the SUV into reverse and sped away. Gwen turned to Ianto.

"Are they really called Dryadalis?" she asked. "Or were you trying to get one over on Owen?"

"I wasn't trying," Ianto replied, and left it at that. Jack was still not sure whether the other man was pulling one over on them all. He shook his head; he'd have to pry it out of Ianto later, preferably under some mistletoe.

"Back to chasing elves, kids," he said. "Before Christmas is ruined for all of Cardiff."

"If they've moved on to stealing puddings, I think we're better off," Ianto murmured.

"Not if we're all wearing one. Let's move out."

"Good plan," said Ianto. "Where to?"

Jack checked his wrist strap; he could track the elves unique energy signature, and it was heading toward Cardiff Castle. They started with a fast walk, and then a slow run.  As they dashed across Castle Street, they saw that the main entrance had been broken open.

Jack tapped his earpiece. "Tosh, Owen," he snapped. "They've got onto the castle grounds. Tell the authorities we're on it and to keep the area clear."

"I'll call them right now, Jack," Tosh said. "Be careful."

"Watch out for fruitcakes," added Owen.

They burst through the tunnel entrance and stopped as something hit Jack in the chest and exploded in a cloud of dust. Looking down, he saw glitter everywhere—his coat, his pants, his shoes. He even spit some out of his mouth.

"Very Elton John," said Ianto.

"To the left!" said Gwen, and she took off toward the castle apartments. As she ran past the trees, one of the aliens leapt out and tackled her. Jack skidded to a stop, Ianto beside him, their weapons drawn as Gwen wrestled with an alien elf.

"Shoot it!" she shouted as they rolled across the pavement and into the cold, wet and unusually muddy grass.

"I can't!" Jack shouted. It latched onto her ankle and bit down hard; she kicked it off with her other foot, but it pounced on her back and they rolled around some more. "Stop moving!"

A shot rang out and the elf collapsed on top of Gwen, both of them covered in mud. Jack turned to Ianto, who met his gaze and raised an eyebrow; Jack half expected him to blow smoke off the tip of his gun.

"Sorted," said Ianto.

Jack frowned, opened his mouth, then shut it with another shake of his head and ran over to Gwen, putting the incredibly sexy image of Ianto and his smoking gun from his head. He heaved the alien off Gwen and grinned.

"People would pay good money to watch mud wrestling like that," he said. She glared at him as he helped her stand, only for her to stumble against him, her leg clearly giving out where the elf had got her.

"Shit, my ankle," she said. "Go, get the bastards."

Ianto was already running toward the keep. Jack sprinted to catch up with him, glitter trailing behind him, and they skidded to a halt as a small spacecraft materialized at the base of the hill. Ianto swore under his breath as a hatch opened on the bottom. Jack agreed with him, as spaceships in the city were a never a good thing. They raised their weapons and waited.

A black boot appeared, and another, followed by red trousers trimmed in white fur.

"I have a bad feeling about this," said Jack.

"Welcome to the Twilight Zone," murmured Ianto.

Several elves sprinted down from the castle, crowding around the figure standing before them. He appeared human, with a truly frightening tangle of white beard. He was large, at least seven feet tall, and exceptionally rotund. Beneath a red cap, a pair of startling green eyes pierced the night as the elves chittered at him.

The figure—alien? human? Father Christmas? – spoke in a language Jack did not recognize. Ianto, however, cocked his head.

"It's Paternivei," he murmured. Jack turned to him in surprise.

"I thought you were making it up," he said.

"You think I could make this up?" Ianto gestured at the site before them as the elves emptied their bags of stolen goods: dozens, if not hundreds, of statues, dolls, and pictures of Santa Claus. They chittered at the large figure in red some more, and he smiled benevolently down upon them, until two more appeared with the body of the elf Ianto had shot off Gwen. The alien frowned, and sent the elves back into the ship with their comrade. With a wave of his hand, the stolen goods disappeared. He took two steps closer.

"You have wronged my children," he said. "They only wished to remedy the sacrilege done to my image. None should have died."

"They attacked us!" Jack protested. "They hurt three of my team." He was counting Owen's pride among the injuries. "They stole from my people."

"My child is dead," the alien said. "You must pay the honor price."

"We hold no such debt," Ianto told him, his voice strong and stubborn. "We were defending our own. You have no right to come here and tarnish our traditions."

"Your traditions make a mockery of our world!" the alien hissed. "And for that you deserve to be punished."

He raised his arms and flung his hands down, and two projectiles flew from his wrists. One impaled itself in Jack's left shoulder; the other buried itself in Ianto's right. Both were large, glass candy canes.

"The honor debt is paid," said the alien. "We will not return to your world. You are crude and ignorant savages." He turned and returned to the ship. The hatch closed, hundreds of multi-colored lights came on, and without warning it ascended into the sky, leaving behind a burned ring of grass in the shape of a wreath.

Ianto grimaced at the candy cane sticking out from his shoulder. "Bollocks," he said. He tapped his earpiece. "Owen, Gwen's down and Jack and I got hit by candy canes. We need you at the castle." He didn't even bother to listen for a response.

"They're on their way," Ianto said. He watched in disgust as Jack pulled the glass from his shoulder. "You're going to bleed out, you know."

"It's not that bad," Jack said, but his coat was quickly soaking through with blood. "I'm sorry we didn't get to celebrate Christmas," Jack said. "At least, in the normal way."

"This is normal," Ianto replied. "For Torchwood."

"Most people don't get impaled on Christmas."

"Well, last year you were asphyxiated," he pointed out. "Less fumes, more blood."

"And already healing," Jack said, feeling the hole in his shoulder knit together. It burned like hell, but he rolled his arm a few times and stretched it out. "How about you?"

"Stitches and a sore shoulder from Santa, just what I always wanted," Ianto replied. He was even more sarcastic when he was in pain. "Maybe I'll get a fashionable sling for Christmas."

"Not from me," said Jack. "I got you a real gift."

"Then I guess I'll have to return the fake one I bought you."

Jack laughed for the first time that night. "I'll take what I can get. Come on, let's go check on Gwen."

"What about that ring?" Ianto motioned toward the burnt grass before turning away. "And the lights? Usual story?"

"We can come up with something," Jack told him. Ianto stumbled and Jack put an arm around Ianto's other shoulder to help him.

"How about Santa and his elves running around Cardiff, throwing glitter, puddings, and candy canes around? No one would ever believe it." Jack laughed again as they found Gwen sitting on a nearby bench, covered in mud and talking on her mobile. Jack guided Ianto to sit down beside her, then glanced around the castle grounds.

"Definitely a Christmas to remember," he said.

"Better than almost jumping off a roof," Ianto murmured, and Jack nodded in agreement even though he hadn't been in London for that one.

"Rhys says he'll meet us at the Hub with pizza and beer," Gwen announced. "And clean clothes." "Owen's on his way," Jack told her. "Are you two doing all right?"

"I got stabbed by Father Christmas," said Ianto, the sarcasm so dry it was combustible.

"I got bit by an elf," said Gwen

"Tie?" Ianto suggested. She nodded and they exchanged a high five.

"This would make a good story," said Jack. "Or maybe a comic book."

Gwen and Ianto burst out laughing, but Jack decided it was their injuries. It would certainly make a good write up for the captain's log. He'd call it Christmas Kitsch and put it in a card to the queen with a picture of the team. Torchwood - for Queen and Country and Christmas.

* * *

Author's Note:

Well thank gosh it's done! So this started out as something quite different: Ianto got hit by the candy cane and died! What! I wrote half the second chapter and half the third chapter before deciding it was utterly ridiculous and let him live. So you're welcome, although it feels slightly more ridiculous now. And if you're disappointed in Ianto's fate here, I'm sure I'll kill him at some point as I have some decent deleted material to rework. Thanks for reading and happy holidays!

[vampiremonday]

TV series ask meme: Doctor Who

send me a tv series and I’ll tell you:

my all-time ultimate fave character: I’m not sure I have a favorite, but I have clung to Clara harder than any of the others. I like all the companions I’ve seen much of, some more than others, but she was the one who makes me think the most. I also really love Martha and Rose. I guess those three are my favorites, but it depends on what we’re talking about.

a character I didn’t used to like but now do: River Song. I understand some of the criticisms of her, but she grew on me to the point that I would say I like her.

a character I used to like but now don’t: I never liked her to begin with, but the original portrayal of Cassandra in 1x02 makes my skin crawl a bit because of the transphobia involved now that I understand it, which I probably didn’t in my early years as a fan. I appreciate that the second and final portrayal of her involved showing her some empathy, which I guess was a slight rebound on that, but still. Bad taste in my mouth.

a character I’m indifferent about: Thirteen, so far, because I haven’t seen her or her companions??? And I guess that I was just kind of put off by the very hamfisted pop-feminist marketing angle they went for. Like, the fact that the Doctor wouldn’t be opposed to regenerating as a woman had been foreshadowed since Eleven, so I don’t really think that we needed Simm!Master being made even more arbitrarily sexist than he already was (which was enough and made some kind of sense character-wise) and Twelve and co being all ~the future is female~ in the text of the show. I mean, I guess hedging your bets against idiot dudebros who can’t read the writing on the wall. But yeah, I hope to… one day enjoy some Thirteen but for various reasons including the way the marketing just made me feel blank about something I thought I would otherwise be intrigued by, I haven’t gotten around to it.

a character who deserved better: Martha Jones the mostest. Also, Danny Pink. Ianto Jones (Torchwood). Also Owen and Tosh but especially Tosh. Probably a bunch of other episodic characters, including that Family of Blood whom the Doctor went full wrathful-Eldritch-god on. Oh, and Donna Noble.

a ship I’ve never been able to get into: Doctor/Donna as a romantic thing. There are others I’ve seen that I’m indifferent to or put off by, but that one is one that I can sympathize with the urge to ship but just… can’t.

a ship I’ve never been able to get over: Honestly since I’ve liked Doctor Who for over a decade, this is a hard question to answer. Doctor/Rose was one of my first ships as a teenager that I really understood in a fannish way, but over time the fire about it has cooled somewhat for me. I like it still, but I feel like over time I stopped being as OTP~ about it. So Doctor/Rose is a mainstream ship that I really like when presented in certain ways. Clara/Danny broke my heart. I liked Amy/Rory as they matured, and “together or not at all” made me really happy even if I was iffy about the early execution. I still tear up a little at the musical piece from that scene. And… uh… I am forever transfixed by Doctor/Master | Missy and Doctor (especially Twelve) & Clara and might be persuaded to ship it under certain circumstances. See, I can’t choose, but I guess if I had to it would be one of the last two. Oh, and it’s pretty much bits and pieces except on the Torchwood side, but one of my favorite rarepairs in the world is Jack Harkness/Martha Jones and I would’ve endgamed it so hard had Torchwood S3 ever existed.

a cute, low-key ship: Jenny/Vastra? I’m mostly pretty “oooh I can’t decide” about choosing ships and favorites, but in this case I was pretty, like, on-board with it. I wrote a fic one time which is more than I can say for even ships I’ve been more into. Doctor/River wavers between “I accept it” and being low-key to very occasional bursts of Strong Feelings that would put it in the above-category.

an unpopular ship but I still enjoyed it: Jack Harkness/Martha Jones.

a ship that was totally wrong and never should have happened: The sexist, dehumanizing elements of the episodic romance in Love and Monsters have aged really badly. At first, I didn’t really fully understand why so many people hated it so much, but I get it now, even though I liked the underlying concept for that episode a lot. I also have a lot of discourse-y opinions about why, while I enjoyed some of it and rooted for Ianto and Jack both to be happier, together or apart, that I really don’t like Jack/Ianto endgame and/or it being treated like this Epic Romance when it really only became Epic because Ianto died horribly. I would just prefer to ignore CoE (I have never watched it) and endgame ship them with other people. But this is a sin to people who are major Janto shippers, and I support you! I just… don’t personally… jive with it. It felt like Ianto settling for me and then getting killed for it.

my favourite storyline/moment: The whole narrative throughline involving the Doctor, Clara, and Missy in S8 and S9. It really played with the whole “the bad guy is right” and “who is the bad guy” in a way that never became so nihilistic I couldn’t stomach it, and in fact led to Missy’s redemption, which is hitting all of my happy buttons.

a storyline that never should have been written: The ending of Love & Monsters (the stupid kids-show-write-in-monster resulting in a woman being a tile that performs oral sex for the rest of her lifespan is bad but didn’t have to be like that). I’m really bitter about The Girl in the Fireplace even though there are parts of it that I have grown to be at peace with. I still would probably be happier if the episode mysteriously vanished from memory. That bizarre thing with the Daleks in business suits and something about pigs? I hate The God Complex, like, a lot. I only ever watched it once and am afraid to try and stomach it again. And there are others I’m just indifferent about or have mixed feelings about, but those are my axes to grind. Interesting how, at this point, most of my gripes happened in the RTD era, though The Girl in the Fireplace was entirely the result of then-Moffat’s textual criticism on how stupid it would be for the Doctor to fall in love with a common girl. Probably my favorite episodes in S1 are actually the ones that involve the Slitheen, but I hate the fatphobia and fart-joke-heavy aspects of those as aliens. Would tweak the actual threat, though the writing of the overall story feels like some of the best in early Doctor Who revival to me?

my first thoughts on the show: The first episode I ever saw was The Idiot’s Lantern, and I really understood nothing about it except that it was science fiction, a revival, and something a British friend watched every Saturday. I was perplexed, but intrigued. Then I caught random smatterings of episodes over the rest of my Christmas break, and by the time I saw The Christmas Invasion on Christmas, I was in love and given a new lease on hope. I had just gone through a personal trauma, and it really helped me to feel something about anything again, and S3 and Simm!Master’s role really helped me grapple with what I’d been through and feel empowered enough to survive.

my thoughts now: I always tell people that I’m kind of indebted to Doctor Who for my life. And I feel like that’s true. My emotional involvement with it varies a lot, depending on when you’re talking to me, but it’s a comfort-attachment for sure. There are certain lines or scenes from it that form some of the foundation of my personality, when I manage to have one. I think it is at its best when it is showing love for what it is: healing, restorative, and revolutionary, but on the other side of the coin, cruel, dangerous, and destructive. I think its engagement with questions about the nature of love and responsibility toward one’s fellow-living-things is when it is the most fun. I haven’t really interacted with it as much since Clara left. I have seen about half of Bill’s episodes, the missing chunk being the middle of S10, and I’ve seen nothing after that. I will one day, probably.

[brightnshinythings]

AU Meme - Day 26 - Doppelgangers

Doppelgangers are a trope for a reason.

And are canonical in most of my fandoms (like the moment I saw the Gangers in Doctor Who, I knew there'd be a Doctor Ganger because if I was the SFX crew I couldn't have resisted the opportunity.  Something about Matt Smith's skull fascinates me.)

And there's two ways you can do a doppelganger story - looks alike and acts really similar or looks alike and acts really differently, and sometimes that is affected by the why of why there's a doppelganger (accidental cloning, evil cloning, evil robot building etc).

Then you can also get the "which of us is the real one?" and identity and self and stuff.

I have chosen to go slightly silly with this one.  There is some sci fi background.  And I don't go beyond Doctor Who canonical levels of Jack making it obvious exactly what he, his doppelganger and Ianto will be doing.

~~~~

Torchwood fic, early season 2.

****

"I want to defect," was not what anyone was expecting Jack to say as he came back through the portal to Orlat space.

Then again, they didn't expect Jack to be followed by a second Jack.

Torchwood, understandably, has procedures for this.

Both Jacks were locked into separate chambers, until Ianto could confirm which one was which.

Then again, Jack 1 was insisting he wasn't Jack.  He was singing like a canary about the Thezut plan to infiltrate Torchwood.  He'd been taken from his moon, and been transformed into Jack by untold painful surgeries, and then had faking being Jack beaten into him.

After the procedures had been completed, Ianto let the Jacks out of the holding area.  As he'd been the one running the tests, he was also in charge of the betting pool Owen had insisted on.

"It's got to be him.  He already knows."  Owen looked at Gwen, "and no bribing him to tell you which one's Jack."

"As if I would."

"I remember the World Cup sweepstake."  They all remembered what happened with the World Cup sweepstake.

Tosh gave her vote first.  "Left."  

Gwen took longer to decide.  Right Jack winked at her, but that didn't mean anything because she's reasonably sure Left Jack was busy making improper suggestions to Ianto.  

She walked round them.  She's not sure.  The Thezut did a very good job faking Jack, good enough that she's no idea how they're going handle whichever of the two isn't Jack going forward.  She's no reason for it, but she feels like it's left too.  "Left."

"Right," snaps Owen.

"Have you just gone with right because we've both gone left?"

"I might have.  Or I might have my reasons."

They turned to Ianto and the Jacks.  Ianto was putting on his coat, and had pocketed the money from the bet.

"Well?"

"You all owe tea money so I'm taking this for that."

"And we all have better things to do tonight."  That was a Jack, but they'd both moved so it wasn't clear which one it was, and even if it was either of them could have said it.  The two of them, and Ianto, were going to the exit.  "We'll see you tomorrow."

[youremyonlyhope]

Children of Earth: Day One

AKA Torchwood takes the “creepy child in a horror movie” trope to a global level.

Apparently I hate myself since I’m rewatching this season for the first time. Even though it’s so painful I haven’t ever watched it since the first time back in 2013.

Kids walking willingly (or so it seems at this point) into a bright light. Ok. Totally normal and not a creepy way to start the episode. I just know that at some point in this post I’m gonna start saying “I hate this why am I doing this to myself all over again?” in every other line. Not yet. But it will happen. Maybe not in Day One. But definitely by Day Two. CAPALDI! MY LOVE! The first time I’d ever seen him. Oh. Oh I’m already in pain. Why am I doing this???? Wow look at that it only took one more scene to get me started on that. OH GOD STEVEN. I ALWAYS BLOCK THIS OUT AND THEN REMEMBER IT AND THEN BLOCK IT OUT ALL OVER AGAIN. I’m glad that Gwen has an eye for weird stuff though and noticed the kids. Oh the Hub. For the last time. OH GOD WHY IS IT NOW HITTING ME THAT THIS IS ALL JUST 5 DAYS WHAT THE HELL. The first time I watched this, I finished Exit Wounds just before. I remember having to clean part of the living room that day, and I know I cleaned it either just before starting Exit Wounds or just after finishing it, so maybe I had a half hour break between this and Exit Wounds if that’s when I cleaned. But either way, I had just watched Exit Wounds before this and Gwen saying good morning to the picture of Owen and Tosh hit me way too hard in the feels. OH RUPESH. I LIKED HIM. I WANTED HIM TO STICK AROUND AND NOT BETRAY THEM. RUPESH. I WAS ROOTING FOR YOU. Remind me to use that Tyra gif when the betrayal happens. You boys need to get better at faking sadness. Now I’m remembering that this season, while not as bad as Countrycide, was a little gorey... I mean, if only that laser knife could be real.

Rupesh: *Sees “Torchwood” written on the van* You’re Torchwood! Jack: *Getting into the Torchwood van* Never heard of them.

I laughed out loud. I love this show. Most well-known secret organization ever. And Jack barely even tries to hide it. “This whole city talks about you.” I LAUGHED OUT LOUD AGAIN. I LOVE TORCHWOOD. Rupesh is smart. He thought of a interesting case. Ugh he had so much potential and used it for the wrong side. Hey it’s my girl Lois! Sad Martha couldn’t be here, but Lois, girl, you stole my heart. I love you. She’s arriving at the same time as Frobisher. Oh my god watching this when he becomes the Doctor later on is so trippy. Oh my god. Asking for easy alien stuff. Wow. “No, you get killed, not me. You die like a dog. Like an ugly dog.” OK Jack you’re gonna regret that foreshadowing in a few episodes. “What’s his uniform? That’s not British Army, is it?” MY GIRL LOIS. SHE HAS A GOOD EYE. “So far we’re the only ones with software clever enough to piece this all together” HA. “Well, us and Torchwood.” Oh ok. Martha’s on her honeymoon. With Mickey but they don’t say it. God. If only they could have developed Martha and Mickey even the tiniest bit. Literally just Jack saying “I don’t know, she only met Mickey a year ago. I think they’re moving too fast.” and Gwen responding “Well I like him more than Tom, I’m glad that ended.” and then the show moves on with its life. Sure, that’d be the easy way out, but I prefer the easy way over what we got which was them barely even trying. I WANT to ship Martha and Mickey, JUST GIVE ME REASON TO. “Ask about Torchwood and most people point towards the bay.” You guys really have to get better at being a secret organization. I was about to say that I did not know Torchwood’s paid by the Crown, but then my brain was like “Queen Victoria founded it, you idiot.” But now I’m imagining Queen Elizabeth signing checks for Torchwood. God Rupesh. I remember thinking “Oh I’m gonna love him on the team” during his little speech about the suicides. I FORGOT THE SCREAMING. I LEGIT GASPED AND THREW MYSELF BACKWARDS OH MY GOD I FORGOT THE STUPID SCREAMING WHY AM I DOING THIS TO MYSELF THIS IS THE WORST. OH MY GOD. This screaming made me realize my right earbud might be dying. Either that or my hearing’s worse in that ear. I FORGOT THE ‘WE ARE COMING’S. I THOUGHT THEY WERE AT THE END OF THE EPISODE. Remember when the Not-British-Army dude was like “We’re not sure if it’s extraterrestrial yet” YEAH WELL THESE CHILDREN ARE SCREAMING “WE ARE COMING” SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO IT’S PROBABLY EXTRATERRESTRIAL.  Oh yeah and the old dude’s doing it too. “What’s in there?” “Big, science fiction superbase. Honestly. See ya.” See this is why Torchwood isn’t a secret. You just tell everyone your business. Oh god oh poor Lois. First day on the job. And there’s an international crisis. That isn’t even me making a joke, I immediately thought of Janice in Come From Away, her first day at the news station and she has to cover 7000 people arriving in Gander after 9/11. Aaaaand now I’m gonna cry. Oh Bridget will regret giving Lois that password. But also, it ends up helping save the world to an extent so it works out. Thanks Bridget. LOL literal red flag next to Jack’s name. Love it. Honestly I agree with this Dekker (Dekkler?) guy, all this is just more reason to not have kids. “So every single child in the whole wide world is speaking English.” Oh the British. Thinking they’re the center of the universe. Though, I really should not be speaking since I’m an American. “We can adopt a Filipino and get her to clean the chimneys” Woah wait what kind of line was that?!?!?!? What? Awww look at Rhys being useful, noticing patterns. “I’m going into England. Farewell forever.” Knowing that the Welsh hate England makes me happy. Wow Jack, you literally had to think to remember that you have a grandson. “What do you recommend that we do?” “You tell me.” See, look at that. Already pushing all the blame and responsibility onto Frobisher. At this point, Frobisher’s basically nothing so why would the Prime Minister say “You tell me.”??? He already plans to make him deal with it all. Ok but also Frobisher’s the one suggesting wiping the record so yeah you suck too. I love Capaldi with all my heart, but at this point I hate Frobisher. So yeah, wiping the records and pretending it didn’t happen, blame Frobisher. Everything else so far? Eh. Up in the air for now. I’ve blocked out everything about this entire season besides Ianto’s death, that scene about the Doctor (though I WISH I could forget that), and “John Frobisher is a good man.” “I’m not having my name on this.” Have some integrity Prime Minister. Now you’re officially to blame too because you agreed to it but knew it was wrong so you didn’t want to be connected. At least Frobisher was never planning on acting like he wasn’t a part of this. Rhiannon has the right idea about the group hysteria thing. She’s wrong, but it’s a great theory. “I just can’t stand it, Dad.” AND HERE’S 2013 ME GOING “WHAAAATTTTT” God this whole conversation about Steven just hurts. I’m glad Rhiannon’s supportive. Rhiannon’s husband coming in to ruin a nice moment. 52 in 2009, he would have only been 8 in 1965... HONESTLY TORCHWOOD, YOU’D THINK YOU PEOPLE WOULD BE BEYOND USING PHONES THAT CAN BE INTERCEPTED. TOSH, GIRL, YOU HAD TIME TO CREATE A TIME LOCK BUT NOT A SECURE PHONE LINE?? No but Tosh, girl, you are perfect I’m not mad I’m kidding I love you you’re the best. And Bridget in her mind is like “Oh great. I’m a part of a government coverup.” Yeah I’d have to get up and run away from my computer too. That’s how I feel after writing papers (Also! I just graduated college on Saturday! No more papers unless for some reason I decide to go to grad school!) and I can’t imagine how much worse the feeling is after deleting government records. My girl Lois. Snooping. I love her. But like, is killing the people involved really necessary? Like, can’t you just maybe lock them up in a jail until this all blows over? Jack. Where in the world did you get that car? You live at the Hub. Where do you park it? And did you pick TARDIS blue on purpose? RUPESH.

STILL NOT OVER THIS BETRAYAL. WATCHING THIS THE FIRST TIME I WAS LIKE “OH YES. GOOD. RUPESH JOINS THE TEAM AS A NEW MEDICAL OFFICER. I LIKE HIM.” AND THEN HE BETRAYS US. HOW COULD YOU, RUPESH!? Now here’s the thing: I’d love this lady if she wasn’t evil. And the government picked the worst person to be a part of a secret deal with aliens when they picked Jack. Yes, he seems like the best because he’s in Torchwood, but he’s the worst pick. If they have the option in the future of an Order to Kill, they should always think ahead “Hey, we’re doing this shady deal. It’s supposed to be a one time thing, but there’s the off chance it might come back to bite us. Let’s make sure everyone involved can be killed later on.” and not hire the one person who can never die. They could have avoided having to literally blow him up and collect the pieces. Or, you know, not have an order to kill option in the first place and lock them up until it blows over. Just a suggestion. “Who killed the Chinese man?” “I did. I had to, he just fitted the story.” “Then get off your high horse, then.” Girl has a point. Wow I wish I could love her. I love Jack. I love that his resurrections are always perfectly timed. “Do you think it’s true, what they say about him?” *Jack dramatically comes back to life.* Even in death, Jack lives for the drama. His immortality ability was like “...just... give it... 2 more seconds... ok they’re talking about Jack TIME TO WAKE UP.” And I LOVE that she was so ready to shoot him again. Girl was ready. I love it. It’s terrifying that the soldiers are like “Oh she’s shooting someone as they run away again.” and know to go off to the sides. You know, the theory of Jack’s immortality being connected to the rift isn’t a bad one either. It’s wrong, but the logic is there. All these people thinking of great theories, unfortunately they don’t take aliens into account. “They kill you?” “Yeah.” *Ianto gives Jack a comforting hug.* I LOVE TORCHWOOD. And everything’s falling apart at once. Gwen’s having a baby, Jack’s having a bomb, and all the kids are speaking with demon voices again. “We are coming... back.” Now that’s how you end an episode.

Yeah so Day One is not as painful as the rest of the days. But it’s still VERY dramatic.

Ok. Gotta find time to watch Day Two over the next week. Maybe tomorrow. We’ll see.

RIP Torchwood Three Hub. 1885-2009. (Also while looking up the year Torchwood Three started, I found out that it was founded by a woman name Agnes Havisham. So, good for her.) But seriously, the Hub’s gone, and my heart died with it.

UPDATE 2 days later: WHAT HAPPENED TO MYFANWY AND JANET!!?!?!?!?!?! All of season 1 and 2 I kept bringing up how I wonder what happened to them after the explosion, but then once I get up to the episode with the explosion I forget about them. ARE THEY OK!? Please tell me Janet escaped to the sewers somehow and that Myfanwy flew away and is off being happy and safe.

[jbharrisauthor]

Episode 1 - Timing is Anything - Chapter Three

Read Chapter One here

Read Chapter Two here

Who would have thought sorting through a bunch of images would be so relaxing and fun? They’d been at it for over an hour and barely made a dent in the assortment of archived Torchwood security footage. At some point they’d sat down and started arranging the pictures in order along the bottom of the wall.

Actually, The Doctor couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this mellow. Like she could just lay back and let the images fall on her like confetti. Why did that sound so strange? But also hilarious.

She laughed to herself, gaining Ianto’s attention. He sent her a lazy smile as he plucked down another image.

“What’s so funny?”

“I can’t remember.” She leaned closer to him. “You know, your eyes really are so blue. What on Earth is wrong with them?”

“There’s nothing wrong with them. They’re my eyes.”

“Maybe it’s my eyes. Is there something wrong with my eyes?” She went to lean in again, but almost lost her balance.

He caught her with a short laugh. “Whoa, how’s your sea legs?”

“Unsteady, it seems. Except I’m not standing on them. My legs I mean.” Her head spun as he pushed her upright and she tried to get her equilibrium back. “Of course!”

“What is it?”

“The incense.” She waved her hand around to indicated the air, almost swiping his nose off. “We forgot about the incense. I think I’m high.”

He frowned as though he was concentrating very, very hard. His blue eyes were a little unfocused. “I’m not sure if I’m high. I’ve never been high before. What does it feel like?”

“It feels like this.” She poked him in the chest and he looked down at her finger.

“No, I don’t think that’s it.”

“I mean, you’re high too. So whatever you feel like is what being high feels like.” She replayed the words in her head. She thought they made sense, but maybe they didn’t.

“Can you not talk in riddles right now? If I get confused, I think it’ll make me dizzy.”

He leaned into the wall and closed his eyes like he was all ready to take a kip. Well, that wasn’t productive in the least. They needed to get out of here and clear their heads.

“Come on, Mr. Jones. I think it’s time we went and found ourselves something to eat.”

He opened his eyes as she tugged his arm.

“But the pictures—”

“They’re not going anywhere.”

Together, they got to their feet, though neither of them were very steady. They leaned on one another as they walked out of the room, laughing as they weaved. In the corridor, they had to stop to avoid running into other people milling around. However, as she tried to side-step around someone, she completely misjudged and bumped into them.

“I’m so very sorry,” she exclaimed as Ianto pulled her back again.

“No harm done,” the young man replied. He had a girl hanging off his arm, a little like she was holding onto Ianto. “I don’t think we’ve seen you here before.”

“No, we’re just looking—” Ianto started.

“New!” She declared before he could do something completely unhelpful like tell them the truth. “We’re new. Nice to meet you.”

She held out a hand, which the couple took turns shaking.

“I’m John—I mean Jane Smith. That’s John.”

She pointed at Ianto who appeared to be having trouble keeping a straight face as he nodded.

“Your boyfriend is cute,” the girl said to her in a conspiratorial-sort-of tone, though she hadn’t lowered her voice enough to keep Ianto from hearing her.

“We’re not together,” Ianto announced in a too-serious manner. “I have a boyfriend.”

“Who isn’t here,” she pinched him, trying to send him a look so he’d go along with her. The incense must have been interfering with his usual investigation-incognito skills. Otherwise, what had Jack been teaching him at Torchwood all this time?

“Ow, why are you pinching me?” He tugged his arm from hers and rubbed the sore spot with a frown.

“It was just your imagination.” She patted him on the shoulder as the couple glanced between them, beginning to look suspicious. Time for some redirection. “So, what else do you do around here, besides the incense.”

“Well, you know,” the girl said.

“No, we really don’t,” she replied. “We’re new, remember? So how about you tell us.”

“The infinite unification ceremony.”

“The infinite unification ceremony. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?” She looked at Ianto, who only shrugged. So helpful.

“Tonight, Pippin and Zalia will be joining those unified in infinity before them,” the young man said, still with a hint of suspicion in his features.

“And what might we need to do so we can come along?” she asked, sending the girl a friendly smile since she was being far more receptive.

“Anyone can come. It’ll be happening here at sun down.”

“You look familiar,” the young man suddenly said, attention fixed on Ianto. “Are you sure we haven’t met?”

“He just has one of those faces.” She reached up to tug his bowler hat a little lower and then took him arm. “We have to go, but we’ll see you tonight.”

Before they could reply—or the young man could work out Ianto was the same Ianto plastered all over the walls, she hustled him away, leading him out of the temple to the street.

“What just happened?” He took the hat off, running a hand through his hair.

“We just got a chance to find out some more information about who these people are and what they’re doing.”

“No, I think we just got invited to someone’s wedding.”

“Well, either way, we can talk to people and see if they can tell us anything we don’t already know. Are you hungry? I’m famished.”

“Actually, I would sell my soul for a strong cup of tea.”

She grinned at him. “How very British of you.”

“Welsh. I’m Welsh, remember?” By the amount of insult in his tone, anyone would have thought she’d questioned his integrity.

“Because there’s so much difference between the two.”

“I’ll have you know—”

“Oh, look, food!” She detoured him over to a street cart selling something delicious-smelling. Turned out to be a kind of marinated meat wrapped in a sort of crispy thin bread. They got a serving each, and then went back to the TARDIS.

After eating, she showed him where he could make a cup of tea, smiling since it looked like he was ready to get down on his knees in gratitude. She left him to it and returned to the main console room.  

Ianto joined her about ten minutes later with two mugs on a tray. “I made you a cup. And I found some jammie dodgers.”

“Oh, I forgot I had those. One of my last regenerations, I loved a jammie dodger. Of course, I also liked fish fingers and custard. It was a thing.”

He made a face at her as he handed over one of the mugs. “That sounds disgusting.”

“Actually, it’s not as bad as you might think.” She took one of the biscuits and went to drop into the seat, taking a mouthful of tea. Ianto set the tray on the floor and then sat down next to her.

“Maybe it’s still the drug-incense in my system, but I’m pretty sure this is the best cup of tea I’ve ever had.”

Ianto smiled as he sipped his own drink. “I have a knack for beverage making. It’s how I got Jack to give me a chance with him at Torchwood three.”

“How does it work now, Torchwood?” She shifted to face him. “I mean, Torchwood used to be this huge organization, before the battle at Canary Warf, with hundreds of people employed, endless resources. Now it’s down to you, Jack and Gwen. Just the three of you on the frontline against any extra-terrestrial threat?”

“That about sums it up.” He glanced down at his hands where they were wrapped around the mug. “I guess it’s nothing but an idea now, a memory. We could still run things when we had the hub. While Tosh and Owen were still alive. We were actually quite good at what we did. Saved the world dozens of times.”

“Then what happened?” she asked in a quiet voice.

“They died. The hub got blown up.” He took a sip of tea, his features becoming resigned. “It’s gone, all ashes now. But I guess we’ll find a way. We always do.”

“Is that what you want to do though? Find a way to keep Torchwood alive?”

“I want to be with Jack.” He looked up at her, and she could see he meant that with every fibre of his being. Ianto Jones was special, all right, she could see it in the spark of his blue eyes. Once he loved someone, he loved them fiercely, deeply, with steadfast, unquestioning loyalty. Jack was a lucky man. She only hoped he realized exactly what he’d stumbled across.

“It’s not the same thing though, is it?”

He stared at her for a long moment before glancing away, obviously not happy with her observation.

“So is there some kind of plan for this unification thing we’re going to tonight?”

Clearly he was trying to change the subject, but she’d let him get away with that little deflective manoeuvre, for now.

“The plan is we go to the ceremony, snoop around and ask lots of nosey questions.”

He arched an eyebrow at her. “That’s it? That’s the extent of your planning?”

She crossed her arms and levelled a challenging look on him. “Okay then, tell me what kind of preparation Torchwood would do for this sort of thing.”

“We’d start by getting a floor plan for the building layout so we can map all the entrances and exits. Then we’d make a risk assessment to decide what kind of weapons or tech we might—”

“Good God, that sounds boring.”

Ianto stared at her incredulously. “You think being prepared sounds boring? I imagine most people would consider it a smart way to make sure we didn’t get killed.”

“We’re going to a wedding or some such thing. I doubt anyone is going to try to kill us.”

“You think?” He gave a short, cynical laugh. “The last wedding I went to, at least half a dozen people died and Gwen almost gave birth to an alien spawn.”

“Then it sounds like Torchwood is doing weddings all wrong. The last one I went to, I ate too much cake and caught the bouquet. That seems far more normal.”

“Yes, well normal doesn’t factor in to anything Torchwood does,” he muttered. He grimaced and rubbed his forehead.

“Something wrong?”

“I think the incense is wearing off. Got a splitting headache.”

She shifted off the seat and took his cup from him, urging him to lay down. “You’ve had a long day, Mr. Jones. Why don’t you try to get some rest before we go out later?”

“Only for a few minutes,” he agreed, closing his eyes.

“A few minutes can make all the difference,” she murmured in reply. But he was already asleep.

Read Chapter Four here

[stormysummerskyed]

Torchwood: A study in fandom

Yes, my last Torchwood post was a little bit snarky, but I've calmed my rabid inner fangirl and given some thought to the unique entity that it Torchwood.

Contrary to my usual habits in TV series consumption, I didn't wallow in Tumblr gifs and youtube fanmade videos and then move on to get addicted to a new series. Oh, don't get me wrong. I totally went down a dark fangirl hole of janto gifs and fanvids that hurt me in the feels, but the moving on part failed to happen.

You see, Torchwood might not be on our TV screens anymore, but it's still rolling along strongly in the form of original cast audio drama produced by Big Finish audio productions. They've made a season 5 that follows on from Miracle Day called Aliens Among Us, but probably the thing that I've been enjoying the most is the fact they've been able to duck and weave back into the timeline of the show and slot in new "episodes" that feature Owen, Tosh, and of course Ianto.

One in particular, titled Broken, runs alongside several episodes in the middle of season one, and deals with Ianto's personal fallout after the death of his girlfriend Lisa, while also filling in the gaps about how and when Jack and Ianto's relationship started, which was never explained in the actual TV series.

The Torchwood fandom is still alive, maybe not as strong as it once was when it was on TV, but new audiences are discovering the TV series all the time thanks to Netflix, creating new fans as the old ones slip away. It very much seems to be a shifting sands of fandoms that I've never seen with anything else. And a lot of these new fans seem happy enough to embrace the alternate media in which this series had continued to exist. Unfortunately, as the years goes by, the fandom is shrinking little by little, and these days things like online petitions or sending packets of coffee beans to the BBC (in honour of Ianto being the coffeeboy) don't to anything to sway anyone. Even with the actual-on-google-maps-landmark of Ianto’s Shrine in Cardiff, Wales and the considerable influence of John Barrowman wanting to get Torchwood back on TV, the chances of that happening seem minuscule at best.

But in all the fandom to-and-fro, the one thing that keeps coming up again and again is the death of Ianto Jones. As new fans are come along, it creates a whole new group of people outraged over the character's death. This is fascinating to me from several different perspectives.

Look, I will never agree that killing Ianto off was the right move to make, just as I believe that the Torchwood writers and show runners will ever believe they made a mistake. Or, on the small chance they did decide it was a mistake, they'd never admit to it, anyway.

I think the fan backlash is exactly what tells the writers they did the right thing. The fact is that Jack and Ianto's relationship became that much more polarizing because of Ianto's untimely and sudden death. The tragedy of it makes the fans more invested, the wasted potential frustrates and upsets them, so in many ways, killing of Ianto worked fantastically for the series. Unfortunately, for the continuation of the series, not so much. There was a huge Ianto-sized hole in Miracle Day, and while some of the behind-the-scenes stuff I've seen and read about Torchwood, the creators/writers talk about Gwen being the heart and soul of the show (and in some ways was true) I think they completely missed the fact that Ianto was just as much this, if not more so. He was the warmth and comfort of the show, and without him, things just seemed kind of hollow.

With Torchwood continuing on through audio dramas, there's always going to be the possibility in the fandom's mind that characters can be brought back. In fact, for the next instalment of Aliens Among Us, the gossip on the internet is that Yvonne Hartman, who ran Torchwood One in London and was killed during the battle of Canary Warf, would be coming back. Of course, the fans will be all ready to jump on the "bring Ianto Jones back next!" bandwagon, but I think it would be a safe bet to say Ianto is the single character they will never, ever bring back, no matter what. Don't get me wrong. I'm right there with the bring-Ianto-back brigade, but there are any number of reasons I can see why the creators/writers wouldn't do it.

I've seen a few ideas floating around the internet about how Ianto could be saved or brought back. Probably my two favorite are one; having the 13th Doctor save or revive him somehow. Or two, after the BBC audio drama House of the Dead, (spoilers! Just skip ahead if you haven't got to this audio drama yet and don't want to know what happens) there were fan theories floating around that Ianto had actually been fully resurrected and wasn't just a ghost. When he stayed behind to close the rift, he got sucked into it and is now trapped between worlds, or possibly got flung out again in a different time. There's even been some theories that this could make Ianto immortal like Jack from absorbing rift energy.

If they were going to bring Ianto back, I actually quite like this option, because I think it would give his character an extra dimension that would be amazing. He would still need to be the same Ianto, but his character always did have those tiny hints of darkness, so you could only imagine that if Ianto did get spat out of the rift in a different time and was somewhat, if not completely immortal like Jack, he might have spent years or decades trying to get back, so his character could be a little edgier, a little darker. Plus imagine all the backstory of where he'd been and what he'd been doing for all that time that the writers could play with.

However, as wonderful as all that probably sounds to the hardcore #janto fans, if on the tiny, tiny chance Ianto did get brought back, I doubt the writers/creators would ever make him immortal, and it comes back to why they killed Ianto in the first place. Jack's immortality is meant to be a curse, and the writers have already stated that killing Ianto was meant to demonstrate this in a way nothing else ever had. To bring Ianto back would lessen the impact of this. To make Ianto immortal so he and Jack can be together forever? Yeah, not going to happen, because immortality no longer seems like such a curse, does it? And I suppose that is where fanfiction will always fill the gaps. Go on to Ao3 and you can probably find any number of CoE fixit scenarios, or fictions where Ianto becomes immortal like Jack. But in the cannon of the the series still being overseen by Richard T Davies and produced in audio format by Big Finish, sadly I feel Ianto Jones will stay dead and buried for good.

[myotishia]

Personal Demons

Fandom: Torchwood. Trigger warnings: None as far as I know but feel free to suggest. Characters: Owen Harper, Toshiko Sato, Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, Gwen Cooper, Elise Carter (oc) Rating: Teen and up

Blurb: Sudden violent outbursts and messages left in blood on walls. It’s not long before the team turn their attention to a local church and its connection to the recent deaths.

Toshiko sat frustrated. She’d never had such issues with the translation programme before. It had crashed for a sixth time and completely frozen the machine. She didn’t even know it was possible to freeze one of these machines due to their frankly ridiculous processing power. It was almost embarrassing to have to try and go at it manually with all the resources available to her. No, it was just another problem she could fix. She would fix. She needed to think about it logically. If the programme couldn’t handle translating the whole thing then she’d just have to break it down into parts. Translate it one chunk at a time. Top left corner, a max of two hundred characters, easy. The blue hue of her screen changed to a bright gold before freezing and crashing once more.

“For the love of…” She grumbled, looking up at the login screen. “This isn’t over.”

She stood and walked off for a break.

“Having a bad morning?” Asked Gwen, turning from the news reports she’d been skimming over.

“You could call it that. Don’t we have an algorithm to check the news for you?”

“We do but I saw a strange news story this morning and I wanted to look into it.”

“Oh?”

“Yea. A man killed both of his sons and then himself.”

“That’s awful but why did it catch your attention?”

“For a few weeks before it happened the family said they were being haunted by a ghost. I would have just brushed it off but look at this.” She brought up a police report and a couple of crime scene photos. One depicting a living room wall with writing scrawled over it. ‘He looked inside me and saw the truth. They were not mine. He knew there was one thing I could do. I didn’t want to but he said I did. I believed him.’

“The thing is he had no history of mental illness. No reports of violence. I wondered if there was anything in the quote from the wife in the original report but I can’t find it.” She continued.

“I’ll look into it for you. It’s not like the translation’s going anywhere.”

Father Lyric sat next to Mrs Willis and handed her a handkerchief.

“I just don’t know why he did it.” She sobbed. “We argued the night before about some nonsense.”

“Nonsense?”

“He kept saying I’d cheated and that the boys weren’t his. I’d never do that to him. I thought…” She blew her nose. “I thought if I went out for a few hours he’d cool off. The boys were in bed and… Oh god!” She descended into hysterical sobbing once more.

“It seems the demon had done too much damage before I removed it from your home. I’m sorry.”

“No no. You did your best.” She snuffled, trying to calm her breathing. “It was all my fault.”

“I’m sure that isn’t true.”

“It is. I was always out doing something. No wonder he thought I’d been unfaithful.”

“Did you ever tell him about your first relationship?”

“What? My-... How did…?”

“Everyone has a past Veronica. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“He didn’t know. Who would have told him?”

“Who do you think would be so cruel to tell him? A friend? His mother maybe?”

“She never approved of me. Even at our wedding she gossiped about me.”

“You know what you have to do.” He looked into her frightened, reddened, eyes.

“I know.”

“Off you go. I’ve got a women's institute meeting to host.”

Elise and Owen had been sent weevil hunting, well more like weevil spooking as most weevils would sprint away at the first whiff of Elise. They weevil was sighted in a churchyard. The old stone built building loomed over them, the bells sounding hollow. The yard itself was a little overgrown, only the far off graveyard being kept tidy. No birds sang, not even the crows and the air felt hauntingly still.

“This feels like the start of a horror movie.” Elise said, looking around for signs of the weevil. The smell was what usually gave them away but they were also untidy creatures so they often left trails of dead pigeons or small animals.

“Churches do that. It  usually keeps the weevils away though.”

“I didn’t know weevils were religious.”

“They’re not. Weevils have specific places they like to hunt. Anywhere they can smell blood like hospitals, places people can be found alone like car parks at night and abandoned buildings. Churches have people coming and going every day and get locked up at night. No good for a weevil.”

“Logical. I wonder what attracted it.”

“No idea. Maybe it got kicked out of its group.”

A scream rang out from inside the church followed by a commotion. Owen and Elise sprinted back and into the building, expecting the desperate weevil to have attacked someone but what they came across was two women in their late fifties fighting. One held a knife that was still covered in butter icing from cutting a cake and the other wielding a knitting needle while the other ladies cowared. Owen moved to disarm the one with the knife while Elise pulled the woman with the knitting needle back.

“Has someone called the police?” Elise called out, struggling with the surprisingly strong woman who was flailing with her knitting needle, still screaming at the other restrained woman. A mousy haired lady pulled an old mobile phone from her handbag and began to dial, doing her best to explain to the operator what was going on.

Owen had taken the knife from the woman he was trying to restrain but she was fighting like a cornered animal, kicking and attempting to bite him. A portly, blond haired, lady walked over.

“Mabel stop! You’re going to hurt yourself!” She ordered, not that it did any good as she had to step back so she didn’t get kicked in the kneecap. “Bring her here, we can put her in the vestry until the police arrive.” She said to Owen, pointing to an old wooden door to the side of the room. It was as good of an idea as any so he wrestled her over there and dropped her in the room, closing the door and holding it. The blond woman grabbed a standing lamp, turning it to unscrew it from the base and slid it through the ring handle to the door, essentially locking it.

“Thank you young man. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t shown up.” She sighed, thinking that now the two ladies were separated it was over. The door beside them rattled as something large was thrown against it.

“A little help over here!” Elise shouted, still struggling with the manic lady who was trying to kick her with her sharp high heels. She couldn’t keep the woman locked in place while she was trying to dodge the pointed plastic. Owen ran over and took the shoes before helping Elise to hold the woman.

Outside, red and blue lights lit up the windows and two confused police officers entered, cuffing the seemingly rabid woman and pinning her to the floor while calling for a van and some backup.

Owen backed off next to Elise. “I think I would have preferred the weevil.”

“Me too.”

Father Lyric grumbled to himself from the floor above, annoyed at his plan being foiled. He decided to make himself scarce, not wanting to bother with law enforcement. It wasn’t as if it was the first time one of his chosen had been interrupted but it was always frustrating.

“Oh Maybel.” He said in that deep inhuman voice. “Your daughter will never let you see your grandchildren after this. Without them, what do you have left? There is always one way out of this.”

He smiled to himself as he heard the squelch of a pen entering the jugular vein.

Owen closed his eyes.

“You couldn’t have known she’d do that.” Elise said softly.

“I shouldn’t have left her in such a bad mental state.”

“And what? Let her stab you too?”

“Still. I just don’t know how she managed to write that much on the wall before collapsing.”

“Yea, I’m not the medical expert but even I could see she shouldn’t have been able to do that. Think its a case for us or just… Crazy being crazy.”

Owen shrugged and started the SUV. “You should call the Hub. They’re probably wondering where we are.”

Elise pulled out her phone to see three missed calls. She called Jack and set her phone on loudspeaker.

“And where have you two been?” Jack asked in mock anger.

“We got caught up in a fight between two women at the church.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. It was like they’d lost their minds. Trying to stab each other. The police turned up but one woman had stabbed herself in the neck. We had to give statements.”

“Sounds bad. Either of you injured?”

“Naa. We escaped any actual harm... We’re on our way back.”

“Right. See you soon.”

Elise sipped her drink, appreciating the warmth as she’d missed lunch and she always chilled when she hadn’t eaten in a while.

“The police opened the door and it was like the shining. There was more blood on the floor than left in her body. She’d written on the wall before she died -” Owen explained.

Gwen sat up straight. “What did she write?”

“Does it matter?”

“More than you think.”

“Urm… I think it was. He looked inside. Saw what I had to lose. I lost them and myself. He told me there was one way out. I knew he was right.”

Gwen paled a little. “That first sentence.”

“What about it?”

“Last night there was a murder suicide. The man had written on the wall before he killed himself. It started with the same sentence.”

“Didn’t you say the family had complained about a haunting before everything happened?” Asked Tosh.

“I don’t think it was ghosts.”

“No. Who do you go to when you think your house is haunted? A priest. Maybe there’s something at the church?”

“It’s better than no lead at all. I’ll start looking into it.”

Father Lyric stood next to his sectioned perishoners bed. Geraldine was heavily sedated and bound to the bed.

“Don’t worry. It will be fine.” He soothed.

The old woman opened her bleary eyes.

“Your family have been told where you are and they’re flying in tonight. It’s such a shame that they’ll see you like this. You look uncomfortable.” He carefully and slowly untied the buckle from her left hand. “But you’ve survived worse than this. The famine was awful but you made it through. So young. What else were you meant to do when dear old grandpapa passed. You would have starved to death. No one would blame you, but you were so smart. You covered it up and blamed it on the animals. The pigs did enjoy the bones. You couldn’t slaughter a pig after all. You tried but they were your pets, your only friends. You loved them more than him after all. What would your family think I wonder? The blood of a cannibal running through their veins.” He untied the buckle from her right hand. “We all have secrets Geraldine. But you can’t hide anything from me.” A smile formed across his face, eyes blinking pure black. “Rest well dear.”

The nurse nodded a swift goodbye to the old priest as he left, letting her check on her patient. She seemed to have settled finally.

“I’ll check on you again in a few hours, ok?” The nurse said softly.

The next morning Jack and Gwen entered the hospital and walked right through the police cordon to the room that had once held Geraldine. Though the bodies had already been taken away there was still a strong smell of blood. Understandable as it was everywhere.

       That same sentence was painted in crimson on the wall. ‘He looked into me’.

Five deaths in under three days, seven if you counted the two nurses who had been found with their throats torn out with what looked like human teeth. Whatever ‘he’ was needed to be stopped asap. Gwen stepped back to ask the police officer guarding the area a question.

“Did the patient have any visitors last night?”

“Only one. Her family were flying in from Russia.”

“And who was that?”

“The vicar at her church I think. I can get you the address.”

“Thanks.”

The same church. Of course it was.

“Looks like it’s time for us to visit this holy man.” Said Jack, knowing they wouldn’t get much from the room.

Due to the violent reactions each of the victims had the whole team made their way down to the church. Tosh staying in the SUV keeping an eye on all the readings. She preferred that to being in the line of fire unless absolutely necessary. Ianto made his way around to the back of the building just in case anyone tried to make a run for it. Elise sat in the main hall with Owen while Jack and Gwen went to speak with the priest.

Father Lyric sat at a table on the second floor quite contentedly. He glanced up.

“Hello there my children. How may I help you?” He asked as he sipped his tea.

“We were hoping you could answer a few questions about the recent deaths connected to this church.” Gwen began, softly but firmly. Ever the police officer.

The vicar placed his half empty teacup down. “Such an awful thing to happen. I can’t bring myself to clean the vestry. Poor woman.”

“Did you hear anything that might have caused a reaction like that?”

“Goodness no. One moment they were having their meeting and then they were trying to kill each other.”

“So you were here?”

“Oh Mrs Cooper, you and I both know I was, otherwise you wouldn’t have brought your workmates. I assume you’re all listening to me with all the computer things the young lady sitting outside is looking at. Then of course there’s the gentleman guarding the back door to the building. And the pair that delayed my plans for a few hours downstairs. And last but not least you and the good Captain here. You all act as if you’re immune to my specific brand of influence, and maybe you’re a little more difficult to take over but not by much. I first assumed when you got here that I could have a little fun and then play the victim for the police but thinking about it now… A vessel that can’t die. That would be very nice indeed.” The priests smile widened, dark markings spreading across his face. His head shot backwards as Jack fired a bullet into the centre of his forehead. His body didn’t drop. A dark laugh rose from the body. “I don’t need a living vessel. It’s just a preference. You shouldn’t worry about me anyway. Your friends are having a much worse time than you are.”

Ianto hated when he had to fight, but faced down by three figures with blacked out eyes and long fangs he didn’t have much choice. Well, apart from something he’d learned in school. One of them charged and he dodged to the side, letting their momentum carry them directly into the wall. The second followed, obviously not the brightest of beings. The third tilted her head in confusion, working out her next move. He reached back to the old door handle, twisting it slowly so it couldn’t be heard as easily. The possessed woman tried to charge from Ianto’s left, only to get the door pulled open into her face. She dropped like a rock and he took that moment to duck inside and slide the lock closed.

Tosh would usually keep her door slightly ajar for the cool air but since the break in she’d been overly cautious. The readings she was getting were strange and the comms system was having trouble. Seeing someone move past her window she turned to see a pair of pitch black eyes staring back at her. She jumped and scrambled back, hitting the door locking mechanism. A bang from behind her showed another figure trying to punch out the window. It wouldn’t do them much good but it meant she could really do with backup.

“Come on.” She breathed, trying to get the comms system back online. All she got was crackling in return. At least she was safe but she couldn’t be sure about the safety of the others.   

The problem with trying to stake out public areas is you have to keep track of multiple people who you don’t know the intentions of. They need to make the first move. It was always a problem when their first move was to attack. Elise felt a thin rope pull tight around her neck before she could grab it. A figure had crept up behind her and was trying to choke her to death. Owen was in as much trouble, having been slammed over the head with a bible. It hurt like hell but it hadn’t knocked him out. He turned and swung, his fist connecting with the nineteen year old choir boys jaw. The teenager staggered back and fell into the pew. Two others dressed in similar robes took his place clawing at Owens face.

Elise reached into her coat for the folding blade she’d been given by Ianto last time she’d helped with maintenance. She’d have to thank him later. She gritted her teeth, starting to get a little light headed, and forced her fingers under the rope just enough to give space for the blade. Her nails dug into her skin but it was better than letting whoever it was kill her. The rope snapped and her attacker fell back. She took a gasping breath, turning to see who’d been choking her. He was a boy of maybe thirteen, still holding the two pieces of rope. While reeling from seeing a child she missed another member of the choir walking up behind her. He grabbed the end of her ponytail to try and close the gap between them. She grabbed her hair about half way down and sliced off the rest. Hair would grow back, her life wouldn’t. She needed to get into open space.

Owen stepped up onto one of the pews, kicking the choir boy away. He was thinking the same as Elise. He needed space to move. He stepped up onto the back of the pew and stepped over to the back of the next, keeping the momentum to reach the front before jumping down to see at least twelve people between him and the door.

A deep laughter echoed around the room from above as Jack was thrown clear across the room, slamming into a stone pillar with a sickening crunch. Gwen was being held over the balcony by the throat, Father Lyric grinning maniacally.

Ianto could see the action through the reflection on the marble statue across from him. He made his way forward just in time to catch Gwen, landing them both in a heap on the floor. Gwen coughed and looked up, gathering her senses.

“Nice catch.” She smiled.

“Thanks. What’s going on?”

“They’re all under the vicars control.”

The choir all moved in unison to barricade the door. Father Lyric jumped down, landing on his feet on the altar.

“I could have them kill you, but would you like to know what would be better? Tell me Elise, what happened to Lisa?”

Elise went pale, a lump forming in her throat.

“Do I need to spell it out? Don’t get me wrong I understand. You were so desperate for anyone to care about your pathetic existence of course you would kill to keep him by your side. Isn’t it a shame it had to be poor comatose Lisa that fell victim to your desperation.”

Her eyes flicked over to Ianto, feeling her world crashing. She couldn’t deny it, she just hoped he’d at least let her explain. She tightened her fingers around the blade in her hand.

“It’s no wonder mummy and daddy hated you. You’re a monster. You think what you have now is going to last? No, of course you don’t. They’ll get bored of you eventually. It’s not as if you’re needed anymore and compared to everyone else you may as well still be finger painting. What do you have to offer? Nothing.”

“Leave her alone!” Owen roared, pointing his gun at the possessed priest.

“Of course you sympathise. Mummy never loved you either. No matter what you did. Perfect marks. Perfect career. She still couldn’t bare to look at you. You were so lost trying to make mummy happy you didn’t even start to think about alternatives when Katie got sick. You supposedly loved her and you let her die.” Father Lyric paused as six bullets were fired into him. “You shouldn’t be angry at me. It’s your own fault.” He turned his head to look at Ianto. “And you. So prim and proper. Can’t let anyone know how common and tragically boring you are underneath. Of course it’s all daddy's fault, or is it? Weak, pathetic, too soft hearted to fit in. It was laughable that you tried to keep Lisa alive for so long. It was for love, you keep telling yourself, but it wasn’t was it? It was duty because you had eyes for someone else. Your family was right about you.”

The words cut deep, made it hard to move, hard to think. There was only the words and nothing else leaving nothing but despair. Elise just sat, the blade clattering to the floor, staring with empty eyes into space. Owen just stared into the floor, barely breathing. Ianto had gone cold, shivering slightly.

“Ianto? Wake up, come on. Don’t listen to him, you know he’s just trying to get to you.” Gwen pleaded but got no response. She was essentially on her own and there was nothing she could think of that would help. That’s when she saw it. For all his posturing he was staying on one side of the altar, flinching before he got near the other side. Why. The only thing there was a lit candle. Fire. She skittered across the floor and to the stairs as Father Lyric laughed on.

Jack gasped back to life, eyes flicking open. He looked around at his team who looked like ghosts of themselves.

“You’re awake captain. How lovely.” The vicar smiled gleefully. “I’m afraid this vessel has a few more holes in it than last time and I’d rather not smell of rot so why don’t you make this easy on both of us and give up your body.”

“Sorry, you’re not my type.” Jack scoffed.

“I’ll make you a deal. You give up your body and all the pain goes away. You never have to be dragged kicking and screaming back from the dead. No more regrets. No more grief. You won't have to watch as your loved ones die yet again. No more being left behind. Alone.”

Something dripped from above onto Father Lyrics head. It smelled chemical. A drip became a stream as Gwen emptied the lighter fluid from two of the lamps onto the man. Jack could smell it and crawled forward, ignoring his own thoughts that were screaming at him, and grabbed the candle, holding it to a line of excelerant. The flames rose high into the air with the demonic screams. The choir at the back snapped back to lucidity and wrenched the doors open to escape. A huge humanoid figure with three horns on its head rose from the flames before dissipating into nothing, leaving only a charred body. The fire had burnt itself out. Jack, his mind now calm, waved up at Gwen who gave a tentative thumbs up.

“We should get out of here.” Sighed Owen, looking at the body he guessed he’d have to deal with.

“Agreed.” Jack nodded, looking around. “Where’s Elise?”

Elise slid down the outside wall, mascara running down her face. She was still trembling and just wanted the ground to swallow her up. No one had even noticed where she had gone and maybe that was for the best. How could she face them now. Jack knew, of course he did, but for everyone else she didn’t know how they’d take it. And Ianto. Christ, how could she even be in the same room as him. Her heart pounded in her ears and she could barely feel her fingers. A panic attack, that was all she needed.

“Elise?” Asked Ianto softly, spotting the curled up bundle of jacket and boots that looked like it could be a person.

She jumped and couldn’t bring herself to look up.

He sat on the ground next to her and looked out into the blue sky. “I already knew.”

“What?” She whimpered.

“I worked it out months ago. Who else could it have been?”

“I’m so sorry.” She coughed, gripping herself tightly.

“Elise, I’m not angry. Lisa died the day Torchwood one fell… I just couldn’t let her go. Future Owen explained everything in the letter he left for me.” He tentatively wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I’m glad she went in her sleep instead of how it originally happened.”

“I shouldn’t be here. I should be the one supporting you guys.”

“Your allowed to be upset. Someone shouting all of those intrusive thoughts you have from the outside hurts.”

“How are you so calm?”

“Unlike everyone else I’ve actually spoken to a councillor before. It helps. Here, you dropped this.” He handed her the folding blade.

“You trust me with this?”

“Yea, Owen would be too pissed off if you used it on yourself so I doubt you’d go that far. I mean he’s cheated death a few times now, I don’t think he’d let you go so easily.”

She let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “True… Is everyone ok?”

“Yea. A bit confused why you ran off but ok.”

“I thought it would be obvious.”

“I think we all know a little bit extra about each other that we wish we didn’t, but we ignore it like we always do.”

“That’s where serial killers come from.”

He smiled softly, handing her a handkerchief. “You look a bit like a panda. A really metal panda.”

“Thanks.” She rubbed under her eyes with a shaking hand.

“And I think you’ve lost about a foot off your ponytail, unless you got a haircut I didn’t notice.”

“It was an emergency cut. I’ll tidy it up later. It’s not too awful is it?”

“I’m sure no one will notice. Especially with the panda eyes.”

She laughed, calming down and steadying herself. “So demons are a real thing then.”

“Only the same as fairies and redcaps. Other dimensional beings.”

“At least he wasn’t as bad as Abaddon. He’s still trapped safely in the rift.”

“Ready to go? I think the body should have been stored away by now.”

“Yea. I think so.”

He helped her to her feet and they both made their way back to the others before heading off.

[esonetwork]

Timestamp #TW20: Dead Man Walking

New Post has been published on https://esonetwork.com/timestamp-tw20-dead-man-walking/

Timestamp #TW20: Dead Man Walking

Torchwood: Dead Man Walking (1 episode, s02e07, 2008)

  It’s a dead man’s party.

Picking up immediately after Owen died on the asphalt, Martha Jones prepares to conduct his autopsy as the team observes. Jack bursts in and puts a stop to the procedure until he gets back from seeing a young tarot card reader. Her ominous prophecy leads Jack to the abandoned St. Mary’s Church, home to a clan of Weevils. He navigates the creatures and locates a safebox. When he returns to the Hub, he opens the box to reveal a resurrection gauntlet. A different one than they used before.

Jack plans to bring Owen back.

Gwen warns him away from the plan, but Jack will have none of it. He dons the gauntlet and pulls Owen back from the clutches of death. Jack makes the rounds, asking the team to say farewell. When his two minutes are up, Owen slips away again, presumably for the last time.

And then he wakes up again.

As they tend to Owen, the team fails to notice the gauntlet twitching on the floor. Owen has no vital signs except for brain activity. Jack quarantines Owen until the team can analyze the gauntlet and figure out what’s going on. While they work, Gwen calls Rhys to talk about her really hard day.

Owen starts to have visions of whispers in the absolute darkness of the Void. Whatever it was, Owen says it was waiting for him. Martha determines that his body is changing into something but the team can’t determine what it means. Later on, he has another vision, during which his eyes turn black and he speaks in tongues. Despite the quarantine, he decides to leave the Hub and go to the local bar.

Which is a fruitless exercise since his bodily functions are shut down. He has no need to eat or drink, and since his blood isn’t pumping, he can’t have sex either. Jack finds him, leading to a confrontation on the dance floor. The pair get arrested and tossed in jail as two Weevils look on. Amusingly, they bond over Owen’s post-mortem bodily functions and their shared experiences with death. Jack says that he brought Owen back because he wanted a miracle.

Jack uses his Torchwood authorization to free them from jail. Once outside, they are pursued by a pack of Weevils, but once the humans are cornered they find a surprise: The Weevils bow down to them. Owen, eyes black, replies in a strange language.

Tosh and the team review the CCTV footage of Owen’s episode, correlating it with another incident during the time of the Black Death. A little girl died and the town priest resurrected her with the gauntlet. Death itself came back in her place, seeking to take thirteen souls and walk the Earth permanently. Death was stopped, apparently by faith, at twelve deaths.

Owen’s words translate to “I shall walk the Earth and my hunger will know no bounds.” He fears that he will become Death, so he asks to be embalmed and frozen to stop his neurological functions. Before Martha can start the procedure, the gauntlet twitches and attacks her. In the scramble, Martha’s life force is drained, transforming her into an elderly woman. Owen destroys the glove and then transforms, pouring black smoke from his face until everything goes dark.

When Jack awakens, the team has taken Martha and Owen to the hospital. Owen feels better, no longer possessed by the entity, and the team starts looking for Death there when they spot Weevils swarming outside. Sure enough, Death makes the rounds and takes twelve souls. Torchwood evacuates the hospital, but they miss a young leukemia patient named Jamie.

Death notices the straggler.

Owen saves Jamie from Death, but they get stopped by the locked outer doors. Tosh tries to pick the lock while Ianto reviews the historical records. Owen figures out that “faith” was the girl, Faith, who was already dead. Tosh breaks the lock, but once she and Jamie are outside, Owen locks himself inside and confronts the dark beast.

The altercation is violent, but as the team watches in protest, Owen pulls the life force out of the entity and sends it back to the darkness. The day is saved, and Martha is fully restored.

Back in the Hub, Martha reveals that the energy the Owen absorbed is bleeding away, but they don’t know how long it will take. Owen asks Jack if he can go back to work as a doctor to make restitution for the twelve lives that were lost.

Jack looks unsure as he muses that Death can never truly be beaten.

  There is a delicate balance in this episode between the character drama and the humor that lightens the mood. Bodily gags, such as passing gas and vomiting, are usually cheap and easy. Here, they work because of the immense weight of the conflict with Death and our team.

The gauntlet is a great misdirection since previous attempts only granted the recently deceased a matter of minutes to pass a few nuggets of information. The rapid aging of Martha to place another of our heroes in mortal danger was also a great piece of drama.

Overall, it was a great story to play with the idea of teammates in peril and the complexities of death in the Doctor Who universe.

    Rating: 4/5 – “Would you care for a jelly baby?”

    UP NEXT – Torchwood: A Day in the Death

    The Timestamps Project is an adventure through the televised universe of Doctor Who, story by story, from the beginning of the franchise. For more reviews like this one, please visit the project’s page at Creative Criticality.

[this-is-quite-homoerotic]

Fic: I'm holding tight cause it feels alright, my love, when I'm with you

Summary: After a long day at work, Jack and Ianto get to spend a lazy early night in.

Author’s note: I wrote this for the @torchwoodfanfests​ 2020 Bingo Fest, for the prompts ‘cold/warm’ and ‘vegetables’. The fic and my bingo card are under the cut, or if you prefer, you can read it on AO3 here!

This story was betaed by the lovely @moonlightrhosyn​, and the title is from 'When I'm With You' by Eleisha Eagle, an extremely Janto song that I recommend to anyone reading this.

Warnings: None

Word count: 1773

“Hey,” Jack was shaking his shoulder softly to wake him. Ianto groaned in protest. 

“Come on, sleeping beauty. You can go back to sleep after you’ve had something to eat. Don’t think I didn’t notice you skipping lunch.”

Ianto rolled over on the sofa where he’d fallen asleep to stretch himself awake. His spine cracked, and he relaxed back into the comfortable cushions.

“All of us missed lunch,” he protested. Jack was looking down at him with one of those warm smiles that made his eyes look soft, hands on his hips and head tilted as he took in the slightly red mark on Ianto’s cheek where the throw pillow had left an imprint. Ianto hadn’t bothered changing when they got home, he’d just taken off his jacket and his shoes and had gone straight for the sofa to nap while Jack cooked, since Jack had insisted on cooking dinner. 

Ianto had been ready to go to sleep for as long as the rift allowed, but Jack wanted to feed him before they turned in for their well-deserved rest - it had been a long 40 hours - and in order to get Ianto to agree he offered to make him some spaghetti bolognese. Damn that man for exploiting Ianto’s weaknesses. 

“Yes, we did,” Jack agreed as he reached for Ianto, who was still sprawled comfortably on the sofa, wrapped in his cosy black duvet with only his head and feet peeking out. Ianto grabbed the duvet and held it against him so Jack couldn’t pull it back. 

“But there’s no reason for us not to eat now,” Jack cajoled. He tried to pull the duvet gently away but Ianto was holding fast. 

“It’s cold,” Ianto complained, fully aware he sounded petulant. He pouted for good measure. He knew Jack’s weaknesses too, and he was not above using them to get what he wanted.

He could see the hit land when Jack’s face softened further. 

“You can bring your cocoon to the table if you want. Or I can warm you up...”

Jack’s suggestive eyebrows were exaggerated and ridiculous, and Ianto thought it probably said something about him that they ratcheted up his desire to kiss Jack by about 50% - a desire that was always already present in him to some extent these days, by the way. If Jack wasn’t so willing to receive and reciprocate Ianto’s kisses at any time and place, Ianto would bemoan the unfairness of it all. As it was, he really couldn’t complain.

And there was no reason not to indulge himself right now, Ianto thought.

He sat up, letting the duvet fall around him, reached up to grab a handful of Jack’s shirt and pulled on it to get him closer. Jack went with the movement, leaning down to let himself be kissed.

After letting him go, Ianto sighed in mock annoyance. “Fine,” he groused, pretending to be terribly put upon by having to agree to eat Jack’s delicious home-made pasta, which was also his favourite dish. “But I’m getting a sweater first. It really is freezing.”

“It’s not too cold in the kitchen,” Jack told him as Ianto grudgingly pulled the duvet all the way off and got up to go to his room. 

“Might as well change anyway,” Ianto mused, looking down at his rumpled shirt. It was already a mess from the weevil chase the previous night, not to mention their encounter and subsequent fight with the pair of blowfish that morning.

“Alright. I’ll set the table in the meantime. Don’t take too long, the food will get cold.”

Ianto nodded, and went to change.

***

Three and a half minutes later, Ianto walked into the kitchen wearing polar fleece pyjama bottoms, fuzzy slippers, and an old Star Wars t-shirt. He was carrying one of his favourite sweaters in one hand in case Jack had been wrong and the kitchen was cold, but Jack was happy to see he left it on the back of a chair as he sat down. The steam from the pots had warmed up the kitchen when he cooked, making the small room comfortably warm despite the winter chill outside.

“Hmm, that smells amazing,” Ianto commented, making Jack beam. He didn’t have time to cook very often, what with Torchwood being Torchwood, and he didn’t care to put in the work when it was just him anyway. It had been a while since he’d had someone to cook for, and he relished the opportunity.

Plus, Ianto had zero cooking skills or interest in acquiring any, and would happily live off takeaway if Jack let him.

He served them both a generous portion, aware they’d both been too busy to get more than a rushed breakfast and several servings of coffee for the past twelve hours. It wouldn’t matter for Jack, given his regenerative abilities, but he didn’t want Ianto’s immune system to suffer more than was absolutely necessary due to the demands of their job.

Jack saw Ianto made a face as he sat down, and he had to swallow a laugh, knowing exactly what was going to come out of Ianto’s mouth next.

“You put vegetables in my spaghetti bolognese,” Ianto deadpanned. “What is that?” he questioned, picking at the dish with his fork. “Broccoli? Jack, you heathen.”

Jack noticed it didn’t stop him from seasoning his plate or adding several spoonfuls of grated cheese to it.

“You need vegetables for a balanced diet,” Jack said with a grin. It was a topic they’d discussed many times. When it wasn’t Jack bringing it up by telling Ianto he needed them to stay healthy, it was Ianto complaining when Jack cooked for him and used ‘too many vegetables’. At this point it was more an inside joke than an actual complaint, though; Ianto had learned that Jack had the magical ability to make the dreaded vegetables taste good by seasoning them, so he didn’t actually mind. 

“It’s an affront to the dish,” Ianto countered, not meaning it whatsoever.

“Absolutely not, if anything, it elevates it. Besides, I roasted it in butter and garlic with the onions, you’ll like it. Trust me.”

Ianto took a big first bite with no hesitation, belying his complaints. 

He moaned shamelessly, utterly distracting Jack from his own plate for a moment.

“Alright, you were right. This is incredible.”

That made Jack grin again. 

They were too hungry and run-down from running from one crisis to another for the past two days, so they mostly ate in silence after that. 

Jack pondered getting a second serving despite being full, but decided against it. Ianto was drooping in his chair, looking like he might fall asleep over his empty plate, and truth be told Jack was feeling the exhaustion himself, despite his enhanced stamina. 

He sent Ianto to do his night routine and put the leftovers away, taking the time to wash the dishes so they wouldn’t be left in the sink if they got a work emergency and had to leave in a hurry. Who knew how long they might be away if that happened; they often stayed at the Hub when things were busy or if they were on call for the night. Thankfully, Tosh had agreed to be on call that night, diverting the rift alert to her phone in case anything showed up, so they wouldn’t have to be available until the next morning. 

An early night in where he could cook for Ianto and then go to sleep with him in the flat they unofficially shared had sounded divine to him. And it was. It was exactly what they needed to recharge.

Jack walked to the bathroom to find Ianto brushing his teeth with his eyes half-closed. He might fall asleep standing up if he didn’t go to bed soon. His hair was standing up where he’d ran his hand through it and his eyelids were losing the fight with his exhaustion and he looked sleep-soft and rumpled and all Jack wanted to do was walk him to bed and tuck him in, then slip in beside him and hold him through the night.

Jack took his own toothbrush from the glass and brushed his teeth next to him, his arm grazing against Ianto’s as they stood side by side, and Jack couldn’t help the rush of warmth and contentment at the wonderful domesticity of the moment. It had been years since he’d had a moment like this before Ianto. Glancing at the sleepy man on the counter mirror, he realised that possibly, he’d never had a moment like this before Ianto. 

Ianto knew everything about him. Not in the sense of knowing all the details; Jack had lived a long and eventful life, after all, and telling him everything would take more time than they had with their usually full schedule. But he knew all the key elements of what made Jack himself, all the painful secrets he had been forcibly, painfully made aware that he couldn’t trust people with, because they were the kind of thing that would alienate others, making them turn their backs on him, or because then they might be used against him.

(He’d been betrayed so many times.)

(You’d think he’d grow a thicker skin, that the sting of it would dull with time and experience. Not so.)

His thoughts were interrupted by Ianto finishing up and placing a kiss on his shoulder. 

“Come to bed soon,” he slurred sleepily, and just like that all of Jack’s other thoughts were banished, leaving only room for affection for this man.

“I will,” Jack answered after rinsing, and Ianto rewarded his words with a small warm smile before shuffling to the bedroom.

Jack realised he was smiling when he caught sight of his own reflection.

Ianto was already asleep when Jack joined him only a few minutes later. 

He slipped under the covers on what had become his side of the bed, scooting close to feel the warmth Ianto was radiating, and to his surprise Ianto stirred, the two of them rearranging themselves in effortless concert so that Ianto’s chest was pressed flush against Jack’s back, one arm thrown over his side to hold him close against his chest.

Jack felt Ianto’s breath on the back of his neck as he mumbled, “G’night”. Ianto’s feet brushed against his under the covers before stilling again.

“Good night,” Jack said softly, feeling cared for and safe and helplessly in love.

Warm and content as he was in Ianto’s arms, in one of the two beds they’d been sharing for the past several months, it didn’t take long for Jack to doze off.

[hetbigbang]

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[gmariam321]

Normal is Overrated - 4

IV.

They'd gone out for a late dinner, a rare outing as a team who too often ate pizza around the sofa in the Hub. Tosh seemed to think the Rift would be quiet that night, so her and Gwen had ordered wine, and Owen was on his second pint. Ianto was nursing a glass of whiskey, barely touched. He was quiet, responding when spoken to, laughing in all the right places, but he didn’t seem there, actually with them. His mind was clearly elsewhere.

It didn't take Jack long to figure out where it was. Ianto kept stealing glances at the bar, where several handsome blokes were sat, along with two women sipping cosmopolitans. Ianto's gaze seemed to be focused on one man in particular—a tall blond man, handsome if one liked that type. Jack frowned, tried to put it from his mind, but something about it bothered him.

He's slept with Ianto a week ago. It had been good, but it had been one time only, a night of comfort and release for them both. After a day or two of initial awkwardness, they'd managed to find their footing with each other once more, and things between them had returned to as normal as it had been for months. Jack was glad, as he hadn't wanted their night together to interfere with their work at Torchwood.

As he watched Ianto gaze at the bar, Jack realized something with a bit of a shock: he was jealous. Here was a man he'd slept with not seven days earlier, sitting right across from him but eyeing up other men at the bar. Jack wasn't offended—they were all good-looking men, after all—but he was disappointed. He'd slept with Ianto, had seen every inch of his body and shared his own in turn. Why wasn't Ianto looking at him like that across the table and making bedroom eyes? Jack was a sure bet, far easier than trying to pull some random bloke at the bar.

Jack grew quieter, trying not to watch Ianto stare at the blond. Eventually Owen got up for another drink and didn't come back; he started chatting up an attractive woman in a blue dress at the end of the bar and looked to be doing well. Tosh and Gwen finished their drinks and decided to call it a night, declaring him and Ianto a pair of dull, old men. Jack was alone with Ianto, and it felt awkward.

"Owen looks like he's going to pull," Jack finally said as a way to break the silence. He nodded toward the bar. "Maybe you'll get lucky with the blond guy."

"Excuse me?" Ianto said, genuinely shocked. "Get lucky?"

"You've had your eye on him all night," Jack pointed out. "It's not hard to guess why."

Ianto finished the rest of his whisky in one swallow. "And why's that?"

"He's hot, I'll give him that," Jack said. "If you like that type—blond, blue eyes, jeans that are painted on…" He trailed off as Ianto gave him a funny look. "What?"

"Sounds like you've got your eye on him," Ianto answered.

"Unlike Owen, I don't shop around when I'm out with friends," Jack said.

Ianto snorted and picked at his food. He motioned for another drink as well.  "Right, you only give your number out every chance you get."

"Not tonight," said Jack. "Not interested. But if you are, you should give it a go before it's too late." "Too late?" Ianto laughed, a genuine laugh that startled Jack as it was clearly aimed at him. "Too late to what? Get his number? Have a quick shag in the loo? Bring him back to mine?"

Jack did not like the direction the conversation was going, but storming out seemed like an overdramatic gesture, so he went with deflection instead. "All good ideas," he said. "Need a wingman?"

"Christ, you're thick," Ianto muttered as his drink arrived. He drank half of it in one go and leaned closer to Jack. His breath smelled deliciously like Lagavulin. "You want to know why I've been watching him all night? Because he's an arse and a bully. I know him."

"Oh." Jack wasn't sure what else to say and hoped Ianto explained more.

"I went to school with the prat. He tortured almost everyone in class. I've been sitting here all night trying not to remember the things he did to me. Instead, I've been coming up with creative ways to get him back."

"Oh," Jack said again. "Like what?"

"Anything," Ianto shrugged. "I've got virtually unchecked resources at my fingertips at the Hub, don't I? I could literally Retcon him back to secondary school, or send him to a prison camp in Siberia." He held up his hand to stop Jack's protest. "But I won't. Mostly I want to punch his face in."

"Must have been some bully," Jack said, glancing at the blond man. He could see it now, the set of cruelty in his shoulders, the tilt of arrogance in his neck, the look of spite on his face when he laughed at something someone said.

"You have no idea," Ianto muttered. He finished his drink. "We should go. Just talking about it's got me pissed off all over again."

Jack threw down some bills to cover their tab, then guided Ianto away from the blond bully and toward the door. He could feel the tension in the other man's body and wished there was something he could do to help. Well, he could think of something, but he'd be doing it for himself as much as for Ianto. And he wasn't really looking for sex with Ianto…was he?

Walking down the quay back toward the Hub, Jack realized that maybe sex was exactly what they both needed. Ianto could work out his old resentments, and Jack could work out his apparent jealousy issues. It was a win-win for them both.  All he could do was offer; it was up to Ianto after that.

He stopped them at the door to the tourist office, placing a hand on Ianto's arm before he unlocked it. Ianto glanced up at him in surprise, his eyes still dark with emotion.

"Look, I know you're upset about seeing that man tonight, and I'm sorry about what he did to you." Jack took a deep breath. "There's nothing I can do to change that, but if you needed anything…if you wanted, tonight…well, to forget about it for a while…I can do that. I can help you forget."

Ianto narrowed his eyes. "You don't mean Retcon, do you?" Jack shook his head. Ianto stepped closer. "You mean sex."

"It works," Jack replied, meeting his eyes as they stood chest to chest. He felt the desire pooling in his belly as Ianto's righteous anger practically poured off him. Maybe it wasn't the wisest of offers, but Jack knew he was also being selfish. He wanted Ianto, had wanted him since the moment Ianto had started staring at the blond guy. From the way Ianto was breathing, Jack suspected Ianto was starting to feel the same way.

"Did you really think I wanted to shag him?" Ianto murmured, running his hands around Jack's waist, up his back and down along his buttocks, squeezing them gently.

"I did," Jack replied honestly.

"You didn't seem very pleased," Ianto pointed out.

"I wasn't," Jack admitted. "You could do better."

"With you."

"I'm happy to offer," Jack answered, enjoying the banter as foreplay. "Just this once, then back to normal."

"I think we both know that won't work again," Ianto replied. "There is no normal for us."

Jack shrugged. "Maybe normal's overrated."

"It probably is," Ianto murmured. "So, are we going to keep talking about the future or get down to the business of forgetting the past?"

Jack nodded, and Ianto unlocked the door, motioning him inside first. As soon as the Welshman locked the door behind them, Jack pushed him against it and kissed him hard, their tongues tangling immediately as Ianto's arms wrapped around him and pulled him closer. He groaned into Jack's mouth, his head falling back as Jack nipped at his jaw and teased at his ear.  Jack felt Ianto's arousal pressed against him and palmed his cock through his pants.

"In the back," Ianto gasped, pushing him away. "Now." Jack grinned and followed, stripping off his coat and tossing it on the counter. As soon as they were in the back room, Ianto took the lead, and Jack let him—for now. They had all night, after all—and the entire Hub to themselves— to forget the past and create a new normal for the future.

* * *

This is where I got stuck - I wrote half of this and had no idea where to take it. When I came back to it, it went someplace I certainly didn’t expect! It’s the last one I’ve written, though I tried to sketch out twelve ideas. If I manage to find those notes and inspiration strikes, maybe there will be more; if I write enough, I’ll put it on AO3. For now, that’s it - hope you enjoyed these four scenarios! Are they what I think actually happened? No, not really. I’m just having fun exploring the possibilities. If you’d like to read a longer, chaptered story about Jack and Ianto post-Broken and how they might have ended up together again, please read my story called ‘Tumbling.’ I was quite happy with it, but it sort of got lost in the post-Broken glow, I think. I even threw in the stopwatch. :) 

Thanks for reading these and for all the comments, I really appreciate them!

[gmariam321]

TLB (spoilers!)

So I decided to download The Last Beacon and go for a walk as I listened to it. Which was an unplanned coincidence, that I was walking through the woods while Owen and Ianto were exploring the Welsh mountains, and it was perfect. Pictures below, with spoilers for The Last Beacon afterward...

I loved it! What a great job GDL did with the writing and the story, and how fabulous were both men in their roles. It was wonderful seeing Owen and Ianto together—bickering, drinking, working together. It’s kind of what we fans always knew: they are quite a pair! Great story, great acting, great production. Two things jumped out at me:

We continue to see Ianto as the rather big, lovable dork that he seems to be at Big Finish. It’s strange because we never saw that in the series, not that I could point at. If you watched the series, you might be more likely to walk away with the idea that Ianto is far older, far more suave and sophisticated, far more butler-like. And yet he is young, an insecure, and he has his quirks, doesn’t he? In a way, it makes him so much more multi-dimensional. He almost has more depth than some of the others now. We know he has strong connections to his Welsh roots, that he likes James Bond, that he’s a total Star Wars geek, that he’s a coffee snob, that he names his tools and likes historical tours and - I mean, wow! So much! But we don’t know those kinds of things about Owen, do we? Or Tosh?  We saw a bit more of them in the series - their flats, their love lives, their background in Fragments - but in some ways we don’t know much about their interests and character. Owen is almost always a snarky, bitter bastard, but does he like race cars or anything??

Knowing these things about Ianto is odd...on the one hand, it makes perfect sense and I love it. On the other hand, I do admit to having that fanon Ianto in my head, the older, more confident sophisticated one. Then again, are the two images incompatible? Probably not, because we do see him as organized and efficient in the series, and he does have some BAMF moments, but we also know it’s a bit of a mask he wears, an image he projects with the suit. So it’s a merger of the two now that takes place.

The other thing that jumped out at me is a bit trickier. It can makes things much sadder, and sort of josses a lot of things we fans once again simply assumed about Ianto. When he tells Owen he’s trying to prove himself after Lisa, that this is his first solo mission...damn. In my head, it’s been at least six if not closer to eight months since Lisa died. What did Ianto do while Jack was gone?? We all assume he stepped up and took his place on the team, that he helped keep them organized. We certainly get hints of it in Kaliedescope (short story) and KKBB. It’s so sad to think he wasn’t part of the team after so long! Or maybe he was, but he didn’t feel like it, which is even sadder. So I don’t know what to make of it other than the Ianto we sometimes see in fanfic as very insecure is probably pretty spot on.

Oh, and one more thing: why oh why did Owen not react to Ianto’s boyfriend comment? Such a missed opportunity there, and I think he definitely would have said something!