#torchwood story continues

[jackfromthefairytale]

orr from torchwood be like: of course you are blue with pronouns

[spicysaucesteaks]

tsc memes because im listening for the first time and im having feelings

[coffee4harper]

Someone take this app away from me

[catharinatudor]

Okay I know that the Torchwood: the story continues stuff is seen kinda critical. And I've only listened to the first volume this far, but I just have to say that I love it!!

Minor spoilers about some non so important scenes but I don't wanna spoil anyone who wants to blind into the series:

First: Tyler trying to write a new Article while using Grindr and Hooking up with Jack and on the literal same day Jack dies and Tyler is like... fuck I kinda killed my one night stand.

Then Tyler trying to figure out why Mr. Colechester doesn't like him und says things like "oh yeah you're old and hate the gays and probably the refugees as well" and Mr. Colechester is like "I'm going home now to my muslim husband" I LOVE IT

Aaaand then Mr. Cholechester trying to phone Jack who is "running" and out of breath. And then immediatly after he tries and phone Tyler who is also out of breath but is indeed saying that he's on a date night and then in the end Mr. Colechester is like "say hi to Jack"

WTF HOW CAN I TAKE THIS SERIES SERIOUSLY????

Oooh and also when Jack is a barkeeper in that Hotelbar and hast this special cocktail named "Harkness on the rocks" and says fucking "Everything is better with a Harkness inside"

HOW??? WHY??? I LOVE THIS!!!

[coffee4harper]

Orr is that you?

Why are elevator terms so sexual.

Like

You’re riding down its shaft.

You’re inside it pushing all its buttons and then you get off.

You’re sucking on i- oh wait this isn’t my hornyposting account

[verloonati]

Torchwood is such a fun show. Two seasons of x-files like monster of the week loosely connected by an overarching plot thread. One of them is about a parasite that kills people with sex, the very next one is about a sexy Cyberman who gets sprayed bbq sauce to make a pterodactyl eat her. Jack is transphobic. Episodes are either very good or very bad with no in-between

Then, season 3 comes up and it's the best written most compelling story you've ever seen and it's only six episodes spanning the course of just a few day. Half the original cast is gone by the time this seasons starts.

And then season 4 just dramatically drops in quality, now it's in America, fuck you, there's CIA agents one of those is named rex. It's back to a 10 episodes series but with a continuous plot like the 3rd season was. At this point in time the eponymous organization doesn't exist anymore in it's own show.

Then the audios come up and the audios set during season 1-2 are better than the show ever was. The audios set after s4 are their own thing and have their whole brand new dynamic. Also the main theme is about racism now and the rise of reactionaries.

Also now there's a 1950s spin off featuring the horniest gay manipulator you've ever seen and also the cop friend from the tv show.

[myarmsaretoolong]

It took less than a week for the world to tear itself apart. For everything to turn on its head. For governments across the world to lose whatever trust they might have garnered. One week of fear and panic and terror, and of people promising it would be alright, just wait. Just wait because a doctor is on the way. A man in a blue box is coming–he always comes!–and he’ll put it right.

One week for Cardiff to gain a hole in its heart.

They never even got a real name for it. The news only called it the 456, some sort of government codename for the creature that tried to take their children from them.

Once the immediate threat was over, once those who stood up to the army when they raided houses and snatched children from their parents arms were processed and released without charge, information started leaking. Information that implied the government had a far bigger role with 456 than they let on. The government continued to deny it, which is when videos started emerging.

Meetings, top secret meetings where they discussed which children were disposable and made sure their own were safe and sound, played out on news channels across the country. Britain sat in horror as they watched, unable to believe what it was they were hearing. And once the leaks started, they poured.

Documents told of contracted killings, cover-ups from decades ago. Whispers of the name Torchwood became commonplace not just in Cardiff but across the country. 

Cardiff, where strange goings on were a part of everyday life. Where more people than anywhere else had tales of his man and his box. Where people had gaps in their memories and recollections of screams and growls they never remembered hearing. Cardiff, where the explosion that ripped apart the Plass suddenly had a firm reason behind it.

And then another video appeared, this one grainier than the rest. Like a recording of a recording, distant and blurred. The screen was split in two. One side showed a tank pumped full of smoke, vaguely glowing blue. The other side showed two men. Two men who stood up to the 456, told it that they wouldn’t give up a child–not one, single child–that they would fight until their last breath if it meant keeping them safe.

Two men who did just that. Two men who stood their ground when the rest of the building fled. The image of them splayed out on the floor, holding each other, fronted every paper, every news channel.

The Thames House incident was finally explained in full, all those lives lost. Bodies piled at the sealed doors.

One of the men was instantly recognisable from his coat alone. Jack Harkness who called himself Captain but never had the story to back it up, well known around Cardiff. He flirted with me once, one person said over a pint in a pub, and me, came the reply. They laughed, raised their glasses in honour.

A question mark hung over Jack. Everyone heard what he said to the other man. I can survive anything. In a world where aliens got a buzz of off children, a man who could survive that virus didn’t sound impossible. 

Out of everyone, it was the boy who’d worked at Jubilee Pizza after he left school who recognised the second man grainy, pixellated figure. Ianto Jones. The man who sat at the desk at the quay’s information centre and laughed when the delivery boy said he had pizzas for Torchwood. A joke his office liked to play, he’d explain. Get people thinking he was some kind of spy or something. The delivery boy would laugh too, laugh at the ridiculousness of this man being anything more than a sit-about pen-pusher.

He went out and told anyone who would listen. It’s Ianto Jones, to his mates in the pub, that bloke from the quay. Yeah, that’s the one. It is! See, look at the video, here.

The name spread through Cardiff like wildfire, and then beyond. Ianto Jones, one of the only people brave enough to stand up to the demands of the 456 and say no. Overnight, the forgotten information desk destroyed in the Plass explosion turned into a shrine. Flowers and cards and candles appeared. A vigil was held. People came from across the country–across the world–to thank the man, and perhaps men, that laid down their lives for the sake of the world’s children.

The hole at Cardiff’s heart became something else. The Plass was cleared up, the water tower rebuilt, and the shrine would stay for as long as there were people on Earth to visit it. The memory of Ianto Jones would be kept at the heart of the city forever.

He may not have had a box, might not have been a doctor. Might not have even been the person to stop the 456 but that didn’t matter. Not in the end. Because he was one of the only people who tried while those in power rolled over and showed their bellies. He stood up for what was right and what was good when no one else would.

It’s said if you walk the quay at night that you may just see a woman stood alongside a man with a recognisable coat. That she may lean her head on his arm, and he may give her hand a tight squeeze. And that you might catch the faint sound of tears mixed with soft laughter.

It's even said, in the far-off future, that the same man in the same coat still visits. Alone, now, as he was destined to be. He presses his fingers to his lips, then to the shrine–still meticulously maintained even though memory of the man and the events are long since forgotten–and tells him it was good.

[variousqueerthings]

thing about rose, for me, is that she wasn't there first -- this in a "she was first in nu!who in the sense that this was the first person to travel with nine, and the first person since the timewar, and the last person that nine was with, to the point that ten was born out of that experience/modelled on her."

and in that framing, I am a big fan of her haunting of the narrative, because it start outs with her placing herself inside the doctor's ribcage and rebooting their ability to want to feel things, but unfortunately rose is still a human, like every human the doctor travelled with before, it's just that the doctor forgot how to steel themself against that inevitability because of the circumstances around meeting rose

this is The thing that I find tragic about martha, because I think she could have been that person, if she'd been the first person post-timewar to travel with the doctor, but because she's coming in during bleeding-heart times, she's got to deal with triage instead. and yes, there are wonders, and yes, there are good times, but for a lot of it, it's shrapnel, and I think if it hadn't been, she would have had a very different attitude towards *waves hands* space and time travel and aliens and the universe (one where she wouldn't be the person trusted with something like the osterhagen key)

and donna had a sense of that Space the doctor was in post-rose (she canonically stopped the doctor from dying in runaway bride) and stepped away from it, and didn't get back to the doctor until some of that hole-in-chest had been bandaged up, which martha did a great job of, but didn't get to really benefit from, and I think that's the sad thing about martha jones, is that she absolutely got a taste of the beauty and the splendor, but never without all the violence and heave weight that was put onto her

which, again, she seems to have been very aware of, considering she joined UNIT and Torchwood. her eyes were barely ever rose tinted (no pun here) during her whole journey in the story. martha really is in my opinion the most tragic companion (that I've met so far, I know Adric straight up dies, but maybe he had some fun times before that?), because yes, donna loses her memories and rose is in a parallel universe, but that's more tragic for the doctor -- they've both built lives

in donna's case there's probably a lot of imperfection in that life, but clearly a lot of joy as well, with her and her husband and her kid and her mum, and I'm sure she'd have preferred to be the donna who saw the universe and was splendid, but martha never gets to forget, and has to continue her life one step out of sync of everything she could have been

which, maybe her life is pretty flipping fantastic, but we really don't know, which is the biggest thing I side-eye about the first nu!who era. that whole weird ending with the sontaran and mickey is like... anti-character work, it answers nothing and it makes very little sense

all I know about her at the end is that she more than anyone saw the doctor's life and became a soldier (still a doctor as well, but...) because that was the work she saw needed doing, and she's the kind of person who does what needs doing. but is she... okay? youknow?

but going back to the original point, is that framing martha through the lens of rose is all well and good in the sense that rose is the reason the doctor is at that emotional point when he meets martha -- although donna absolutely had a very big hand in that as well -- but once we've established that, martha's arc is martha's arc, and it's dull to me to frame it as the "rebound" arc or even particularly about alloromanticism (including -- and this is why i get why people do it in fandom -- some shit said by rtd, which is just less interesting than what I get out of it, so shhhh)

she's got so much going on, and her relationship with the doctor changes the trajectory of her life, and it's in many ways a more interesting and far less straightforward trajectory of bad-to-better that many companions get -- it's a wonderfully complicated narrative that (and again, I get that some of this comes from within deliberate framings of the text, even though I think it's more than open enough to do more with, death of the author and all that -- but certainly not all of this is text either, some of it is ignoring what is actually there) is done a disservice by not going through the real messed up fascinating extraordinary shit that's going on during her era + arc in s4

but also... is she ok? I want to know. it's one of my top three burning questions, since we're getting a bit of best-ofs of the noughties DW era, some of your crimes can be righted by a simple bit of martha mr davies

[verloonati]

And sometimes family is that old gay gentleman, the sketchiest ethiclessest gay journalist in town, the alien harbinger that took over afformentionned ex-cop body, the ultimate people pleaser and their dead boss from another dimension, and also andy

sometimes family is a pansexual immortal who’s forgotten what death means, a suicidal doctor who’s fucked half the city, an awkward nerdy girl who’s broken multiple international laws, an ex cop who’s somehow more corrupt in every other area of her life than her police work, the coffee guy who’s more competent than pretty much everyone else and constantly experiencing trauma, and rhys

[jackfromthefairytale]

i can't be the only person who doesn't want a torchwood reboot as much as i want some form of continuation. because "reboot" generally tends to mean "disregard existing canon in favour of new material" and, well, torchwood still does exist in 2024 extended who, and they're still fucking shit up in cardiff and the rest of the world and i've grown kinda attached to this new team, but another torchwood offshoot that are vaguely connected to this one? yes please. a on-screen spinoff that's just a two episode story featuring this current team? i'll do anything. just don't destroy what already exists please

[iantosource]

i have a Take that people probably aren't going to like very much but. i was watching miracle day with my friend and we were discussing jack's character and it sort of hit me why jack feels less and less interesting as a character as time goes on.

a lot of jack's character in torchwood is about being mysterious. there are a lot of gaps in his history between becoming immortal and the present day that he just wont talk about, or only in very vague terms (his wife shown in something borrowed, his time with the traveling circus,....) and thats sort of where we start to get an issue once we enter big finish material. because if they wanna keep that mysteriousness that's so central to torchwood jack they really cant fill out too many of those gaps, so instead a lot of his audios ive listened to are kinda just "hey lets make jack have a little adventure unrelated to anything else". and that can be fun for sure! but it's rarely a story that tells you something new about jack, unlike say, ianto's stories which almost always give you new details on his life and mannerisms and tastes. (this probably happens with the other characters too but ive only listened to a couple of audios for gwen, tosh and owen so i dont have as much knowledge to base myself on)

eventually jack becomes kind of boring because they just never add any depth to him anymore. i found it especially noticeable in the story continues : jack doesn't really have anything going on besides being sad about ianto and not telling his team about his plans? the static-ness of the characters is a bit of a problem in general with seasons 6 and 7 but jack was already written this way in season 5. i feel like part of this is big finish not wanting "backlash" from the fans if they make jack "move on" from ianto, but it just feels very strange because it isn't the first time jack has lost someone he loved and even though he's obviously heartbroken about losing them, he never let it stop him from falling in love again. (plus they could've definitely made his character evolve without putting him in a new relationship......)

in short i feel like jack is stagnating in a lot of big finish stories compared to the way the rest of the team gets new layers added to their characterisation in every new audio drama. it's making him boring when he used to be very very compelling.

[luthqrs]

torchwood big finish audio stories

sharing is caring >:)

also up for grabs: new and classic who big finish (x) and doctor who novelisations (x)

a list of what’s there + how to play below the cut x

things you’ll find here

torchwood main range (stories 1-68)

the story continues (series 1-2)

torchwood soho (series 1-2)

the lives of captain jack (series 1-3)

the sins of captain john (series 1)

and how to access them

press play!!

if you like to listen at 1.5x speed like me, you can use an independent media player. on ios, press the 3 dots -> open with: [audio player of choice] (i use evermusic)

make and save copies to ensure your favs stay safe!

want something you can't have?

its probably here. if it's not, pop it in the comments/tags and maybe i can perform some kind of magic

happy listening! x

[coffee4harper]

Basically The Empty Hand

[bookwermthings]

My Official Torchwood Fanfic Rec List as of 9/3/2024

I had to delete twenty-three fanfics off the list to get it to work on Tumblr, so if you want to know what those were, feel free to ask!

The list will be formatted like this:

Fic Title | Author | My Remembered Rating Out Of 10 (on how much it impacted me)| Wordcount | my remembered general mood of the story

the link

and a summary.

They are ordered from happiest to most heart wrenching.

Special thanks to @myarmsaretoolong for the inspiration to make this :D

Cheers, and happy reading!

Torchwood Season 3: What could have been | SqutternutBosh | 9 | 171K | happy fluff https://archiveofourown.org/series/1735756 A reimagining of Season 3. what if it wasn't Children of Earth? What if Owen and Tosh lived?

The Lonely Cheryth| BookWerm |11 proud of this :)| 6.5K |fluffy!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/30708251 Steven's Uncle Jack is a mystery. one he's determined to solve

Not Good As In Not Evil, But Good As In Not Bad| orphan_account | 7 | 6.7K| fluff https://archiveofourown.org/works/23150389 Ianto Jones has realizations about his life through the life of his son.

Once Lost| saxgoddess25 | 7 | 25.5K |hopeful/happy https://archiveofourown.org/works/13465965/ it's been two years since Ianto died. Now he's back.

Falling Doesn't Feel So Bad When I Know You've Fallen This Way, Too | BookWerm | 8 | 4.5K | mostly fluff | https://archiveofourown.org/works/42053868 Ianto has always felt not quite right in his body. It only became more apparent as he got older. Ianto Jones is trans, and surprisingly, so is Jack Harkness.

Just this once (everybody lives) | Beleriandings | 11!!!! | 360K | happy hopeful flulff https://archiveofourown.org/series/1826248 An everybody lives AU with an ultimately hopeful tone, picking up at Exit Wounds and continuing through beyond into the far future.

Bits And Pieces| DinoDina | 7 | 6.2K | hopeful, hurt/comfort https://archiveofourown.org/works/32878222 Ianto is made of metal and wires underneath, built by Yvonne Hartman.

On Happiness | Anonymous | 9 | 90K | happy-ish https://archiveofourown.org/works/20500817 Ianto Jones used to be such a happy child. He wasn't any more. All Rhiannon wanted was for her brother to find that happiness again.

Push And Pull| sherlockpond | 7 | 34K | hopeful hurt/comfort https://archiveofourown.org/works/24358693 Post COE. Ianto's back, and he doesn't have his memory. People are disappearing.

Torchwood Series 5: The Reboot | logos00 | 9 | 20.4K |bittersweet fluff https://archiveofourown.org/series/235344 After Miracle Day, Gwen and Jack accidentally land themself in an alternate version of the past where everyone is alive.

Time Loves You | Anonymous | 8 | 44.2K |neutral happy ending https://archiveofourown.org/series/1324307 Post CoE. Ianto has no idea who he is. In fact, the only thing he knows? he is looking for someone.

A Different Life | gmariam | 10 | 141.8K | neutral https://archiveofourown.org/works/8247706 Ianto left Torchwood after Owen's death. but can he really stay away when the worlds about to end?

I Sing the Body Electric | Paycheckgurl | 7 | 19K | neutral https://archiveofourown.org/works/35019091 Ianto, Toshiko, and Owen wake up in a dark room. Their bodies seem to be strangely metallic. Which isn’t even the strangest development:they remember being dead.

A Point In Time | MemoryDragon | 7 | 8.5K | neutral a little sad https://archiveofourown.org/works/540393 Jack turns up late at night at Ianto's flat, asking strange questions, forgetting important things. Strangest thing is that Jack was never actually at Ianto's flat at all.

past Imperfect | gmariam | 9 | 23.6K | bittersweet https://archiveofourown.org/works/8716999 Jack time travels backward to fit in more time with Ianto.

a blip in time (we had forever) | someawkwardprose | 7 | 2.8K | bittersweet https://archiveofourown.org/works/26712370 Jack visits sometimes. it's how Ianto knows he's going to die.

To build a home (I held on as tightly as you held on to me) | flamingbluepanda | 7 | 12.5K | angst w/ happy ending https://archiveofourown.org/works/24916039 it's 2076. Jack and Ianto are still together. Ianto has dementia.

Only Temporary | badly_knitted | 7 | 1.4K | sad https://archiveofourown.org/works/20794613 Death is no less upsetting when it's temporary, especially when it's someone you love.

Lament | engagemythrusters | 7 | 3.2K | hurt/comfort https://archiveofourown.org/works/24203638 Jack died, because Jack died, and Ianto just had to learn to work through it.

A Moment (An Eternity) | Clare_Hope | 7 | 21.9K | hurt/comfort https://archiveofourown.org/works/30907163 Everyone survived Exit Wounds. That doesn't mean anyone is alright

Regarding Jack | celedan | 7 | 10.6K | angst w/ happy ending https://archiveofourown.org/works/22282087 After a night Jack can't remember, he's slowly losing who he is.

I'm All Ears (and I'm All Scars) | MrSandman | 7 | 5.1K | angst w/ happy ending https://archiveofourown.org/works/27609358 Post Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang. Jack and Ianto's first real date. They have a conversation about timelines.

A Vision Too Removed To Mention | pocky_slash | 8 | 14K | angst w/ hopeful ending https://pocky-slash.livejournal.com/1462797.html Ianto is in a time loop, and no one remembers who he is.

All My Uphill Clawing | pocky_slash | 7 | 3.1K | angst w/ happy ending https://archiveofourown.org/works/393640 After the time loop. Ianto is comforted by the team.

To Fight When You Feel Like Flying | innocent_until_proven_geeky | 7 | 2.7K | angst w/ hopeful ending https://archiveofourown.org/works/29508843 Ianto is depressed again, but he's not as alone as he was after Lisa

do not go gentle | someawkwardprose | 8 | 17.7K | angst w/ hopeful ending https://archiveofourown.org/works/28386996 the Big Finish audio Broken if Ianto hadn't gone to The Ferret

One Last Breath | Riennynn | 8 | 3.4K | angst w/ hopeful ending https://archiveofourown.org/works/1835368 There's something after Jack and Ianto. Fortunately (?), they've trapped themselves in an airtight locker with a limited amount of air

Breathing Freely | BookWerm | 7 | 2.1K | angst w/ happy ending https://archiveofourown.org/works/42905979 continuation of one last breath.

I just wanted you to watch me dissolve, slowly | MonsterMince | 8 | 15.4K | really sad https://archiveofourown.org/works/41765781/ If John had known the true cost he'd need to pay to cure Jack's immortality, he might not have paid it. (That's a lie)

The past in the future (And Put Away Childish Things remix) | pamymex3girl | 8 | 1.8K | really sad https://archiveofourown.org/works/1595603 Her father is smiling, except he's from the before, so he's not her father, not yet anyway.

I Cannot Sleep Warm | Beleriandings | 10 | 11.2K | fluff w/ sad ending https://archiveofourown.org/works/27181552 ""And I love you, too. Now… time to wake up."

left you with both of the rings | princessoftheworlds | 11!!! | 21K | absolutely devastating https://archiveofourown.org/works/34108996 Ianto's life is fine. Some might even say great. When cracks begin to appear in the surface of Ianto’s perfect world, he’s forced to confront what he knows is real.

[the-torchwood-archive]

Plant Life by Trevor Baxendale.

Something I find interesting about this story is how often I see people misinterpreting Jack's behaviour in it, especially at the end. They want some sort of relief from him. Some sort of intimate moment. But honestly, I like how it ends. There's no space for intimacy because he's angry with himself. Angry that he missed the signs of an alien invasion because he was too preoccupied with wanting to be soft with Ianto.

Almost letting the world end because you want to protect the person you love. To me that's better than a tender moment. It's very Torchwood. It certainly won't be the last time.

Full text is under the cut. This was a quick transcription, so let me know if I've missed anything.

Gwen skipped lightly through the Hub portal as it ground slowly open. It wasn’t something she did very often. There was usually something to worry about – a midnight text to alert her to an attempted alien invasion or some kind of extra-dimensional incursion through the Rift – and any step taken in the underground headquarters of Torchwood could be a step closer to death.

But not today. Today was different. Today was normal. Properly normal. And nothing was going to stop it being normal.

“Good afternoon,” yelled Captain Jack.

Gwen smiled to herself as she jogged up the steps to his office.

He was sitting back with his boots up on the desktop, a wide, gleaming white smile splitting his face in half, “Nice of you to show up for work today, Mrs Williams,” he continued. “That’s if you actually had doing any work in mind. You could just float around the place looking all love-struck and everything if  you’d prefer. It says in the rulebook you can to that in lieu of a honeymoon.”

“Cooper,” said Gwen, still grinning, “I’m keeping my name. Rhys has agreed.”

“Oh, he has, has he?”

“Yeah. Said it wouldn’t be me if I wasn’t Gwen Cooper anymore. Besides,” Gwen raised her left hand and waggled her fingers, “this says I’m a Mrs.”

“And what does that say?” Jack pointed a finger at the thing under her left arm.

She looked down as if surprised, “This? It doesn’t say anything. It’s a plant.”

“A plant.”

“Yeah. Spider plant. For the flat. I picked it up from the market this morning on the way in. Do you like it?”

She held out the spindly little plant for Jack to see. He straightened up, a slight look of repulsion on his movie star face, “Not keen on spiders.”

Gwen laughed, following him out of the office and down towards Tosh’s desk space. Toshiko was staring intently at the phalanx of glowing computer screens that constituted her workstation.

“Morning, Gwen,” she said without looking up. Reflections of the monitors flickered in her glasses, “How’s married life?”

“Fantastic,” Gwen told her, gleefully spinning Tosh around in her chair. She skipped after Jack, “I never knew you were scared of spiders.”

“I’m not. I said I wasn’t keen on them. We had a falling out on Janus Prime, spiders and me.”

“Well, this is just a plant, that’s all. No worries,” Gwen plonked the potted plant down on her desk and bounced into her seat.

Jack frowned, “I hope all this post-nuptial bliss wears off soon. I'll have to have a work with Rhys, get him to start leaving his dirty socks on the floor and toe-nail clippings in the bed.”

“Oh, he does that already,” sighed Gwen, “Like I said, no worries.”

“I’m nauseous.”

“I’m in need of coffee,” Gwen rapped on her desktop, “Where’s Ianto? A Monday Morning Special is required.”

“Tea boy’s in the Hot House,” said Owen as he emerged from the depths of the autopsy room.

“Don’t call him that,” Gwen chided, “What’s he doing in there?”

---------------

“My turn to water the plants,” explained Ianto. He was carefully pouring a plastic cup full of water into the soil of a pot plant, his face a picture of care and concentration. Ianto Jones approached every one of his duties with the same level of precision and commitment, whether it was making a cup of coffee or aiming a stungun at a weevil.

The Hot House was the team’s quiet area, a small place of tranquillity in the often frenetic environment of the Hub. It was warm and secluded, located in an angular glass pod overlooking the rest of the base.

Gwen turned away from her view of Jack and caught a glimpse of Ianto’s pinstripe through the foliage, “I thought this was Owen’s thing?”

“Well, I imagine he’s got other things on his mind right now,” Ianto responded, “What with being dead and everything.” He straightened up, observing his handiwork with a high achiever’s critical eye, “Besides, if it’s in the Hub, it’s my thing.”

Gwen walked along the rack of plants, letting her fingers play through the leaves, “These are all alien then, are they?”

Ianto shrugged, “Some of them are, certainly. Spores or seeds that have drifted in through the Rift. We plant them and see if they grow. Most die. There are some plants in the universe which don’t photosynthesise – and they find carbon dioxide poisonous. Others need specifically controlled environments,” he tapped the glass of a large blue bottle, “and ultraviolet light. Some only thrive in absolute darkness.” He knocked on the lid of a large black box. It was completely sealed and impossible to see into, “There’s something growing in here, allegedly.”

“How can you be sure?”

“We can’t. I call it Schrodinger’s plant.”

Gwen stooped to look at a small purple flower embedded in rich peaty soil on the next bench, “What’s this one called? It’s beautiful.”

“Nose Biter,” Ianto said flatly, “It’s carnivorous.”

Gwen jerked back as the jagged petals twitched.

“Not all plants are alien in origin,” Ianto continued as if conducting a tour, “Some come through the Rift from the future and the past. This one is from the Silurian era.” He indicated a large, bushy fern.

Gwen pulled an appropriately impressed face, although she had no idea what he was talking about. She looked at the specimen that Ianto had been watering so carefully when she came in, “And what about that one?”

“Ah, that’s my favourite.”

It was rather plain. Just a thin green stalk and a single, rather nondescript leaf. “Riight,” said Gwen.

“It’s really come on in the last few days,” Ianto explained, “It was practically dead last week. Owen as all for throwing it out, but I believe in giving everyone a chance.”

“Everyone?”

“Thing. Every thing.”

Gwen straightened up, bored. “It’s very nice.”

“All it needed was a drop of water. And a bit of patience.”

“Lovely,” Gwen turned her full beam smile on Ianto. “Any danger of a coffee this morning?”

---------------

Owen didn’t sleep anymore and spent most of his time pottering around the Hub. Captain Jack spent all of his time at the Hub; in fact, his sleeping quarters were located beneath his office, accessed via a salvaged submarine hatch set in the floor. Owen used to think it was just eccentric, but now he understood what it was like to have no life at all outside Torchwood. Or no life at all, full stop.

Nethertheless, no matter how early Owen checked, Jack was always up and washed and dressed before him and ready to greet the day with that big grin, “Morning!” Jack called from his office as Owen stalked up from the calls. He’d been inspecting the Weevil containment locks, just for something to do. He waved at Jack, who signalled back with a cheery flick of The Times. Somewhere above them a pterodactyl flapped lazily around the roof vault.

“Jack! Owen!” Ianto’s voice rang out from somewhere above them. Startled, Owen looked to see Ianto at the top of the spiral staircase leading to the Hot House. He was in his shirtsleeves, but still with a waistcoat and tie – what passed for early morning casual with Ianto.

“Hey, Ianto,” Jack yelled, “What gives?”

“New bud! New bud!” he cried, and then darted back into the Hot House.

Owen and Jack found him peering intensely at his plant – it had already become Ianto’s plant – and pointing, “Look! Just there. It’s a new bug. Isn’t that fantastic?”

They examined the plant. Sure enough, juts by the leaf, there was a tiny, shiny green bulge.

“I wonder where it came from,” Jack mused, “How far across the universe and how many centuries it’s travelled to get here and survive.”

“It’s doing well,” Owen concluded, “I’d almost given up on it.”

“You had given up on it,” Ianto said.

“Maybe I could run some tests,” Owen suggested, “Cross-check the cell patterns with the stuff in the archive. May tell us something.”

“There’s no need to waste your time on that,” Ianto said, “It’s here and it’s alive. That’s all that matters, surely?”

“It’s something to do,” Owen insisted.

Jack said, “Why don’t you check the archives anyway, see if you can find something that fits the description. Ianto can help. It’s going to be a quiet day after all. Tosh is off out and I’m tidying up some stuff with UNIT.”

But Ianto wasn’t listening. He was very gently pouring water into the pot around the base of the plant, watching the soil soaking it up.

Owen shrugged and headed for the exit, “At the double,” he sighed.

---------------

“Do you think it likes coffee?” Gwen asked.

Ianto shook his head, “I doubt it. Too many toxins. At the moment all it needs is water.”

“At the moment?”

“And love and understanding, of course.” Ianto added with a smile.

Gwen laughed gently, “You must have green fingers.”

“Hi there,” said Jack, strolling into the Hot House, “Thought I’d find you here. Everyone wants to know how Ianto’s plant is doing.”

“There’s another leaf coming through,” Ianto said proudly.

“Never a dull moment in Torchwood,” Jack said.

“It’s sort of cute, don’t you think?” smiled Gwen.

“That depends,” Jack replied, “on how much it takes Ianto away from his normal duties. Such as coffee.”

“Good point,” Gwen nodded.

“I’ll get you coffee in a moment,” Ianto assured them. There was a hint of abruptness in his tone that made Gwen and Jack pull a face at each other.

“I’ll get on with my work,” Gwen whispered, heading for the door.

“Yeah,” said Jack, “Me too.”

---------------

“Have you thought of a name for it yet?” Toshiko asked, powering her workstation down for the night.

Ianto school his head, “No pet names.”

“It seems silly not calling it anything,” Tosh insisted gently, “We ought to give it a name.”

“Owen’s been checking through the botanical archives to see if he can find a match,” Ianto said, yawning, “We’ll know what it is if he finds one.”

“You look tired.”

Ianto stretched, leaning back on the old settee, “I could do with some sleep, that’s true.”

“You’re spending all your time here,” Tosh said, “Nothing unusual there, I know. But you looked bushed. Jack won’t thank you for being too tired to work. It may be quiet now, but you know how it is around here. Anything could happen at any time. We need to be ready.”

Ianto dragged a hand down his face, “I know, I know. I’ll go home soon. I’ll just check on the plant first.” He heaved himself up and headed for the Hot House.

---------------

“Well, I don’t really see any harm in it,” Gwen said the next day. They were in the boardroom, Jack playing thoughtfully with a pencil. Gwen sitting on the next, Tosh next to her. Owen was leaning against the double doors.

“You think it’s a hobby?” Jack asked, unimpressed.

“Well, I don’t know much about hobbies.”

“Hobbies are for men,” Owen commented.

“Ianto doesn’t have any hobbies,” Jack said.

“He’s very fond of that old stopwatch,” Gwen said, her eyes full of innocence.

“That’s not a hobby,” Jack insisted.

“It’s only a plant,” Toshiko ventured, “What harm can there be?”

“He’s obsessed with the thing,” Jack said, his voice hardening.

“The plant isn’t poisonous, carnivorous, mobile, or intelligent,” Toshiko continued, “For all intents and purposes, just a plant. I repeat: what harm can there be?”

Jack swivelled around to face Owen, “Have you come up with anything on the database?”

“Nothing. The Torchwood botanical records go back over 100 years. There’s nothing on the computer, the microfiche, the ledgers or diaries that fits the description. We don’t even know what it is. We don’t even know,” he added meaningfully, “if it’s alien.”

“What do you mean?” asked Gwen, “I thought all the plants in the Hot House were extraterrestrial in origin, or at least from another timezone.”

“So we think,” Owen replied, “What proof do we have in this particular case? I should point out that there’s nothing that fits the description of the plant in any Earth records either, but I’ve only been looking for three days and it’s a big job.”

“We could take a cell sample,” Toshiko said, “Put it under the microscope.”

“Frankly, I’m surprised you haven’t done that already,” Jack cut in.

Toshiko looked momentarily fazed, unused to being reprimanded, even mildly. Jack had spoken softly, but he wasn’t smiling, “I – I just didn’t think it was necessary,” she said, “We’ve been busy with other things. I don’t see what the problem is – Ianto’s looking after his plant, that’s all.”

“She’s got a point, Jack.” Gwen agreed.

Jack sighted and threw his pencil down on the table top, signalling that the meeting was over, “Okay, back to work, people. I’m getting paranoid in my old age. Scat.”

They filed out, but he called Gwen back just before she left, “How did Rhys like the spider plant?” he asked.

She laughed, “Never even noticed it.”

---------------

The plant was looking very healthy. It was a good couple of centimetres taller, and possibly straighter, with two full leaves and the start of a new one. It wasn’t all that big, or even very special looking, but it now dominated the Hot House.

This was partially due to the fact that nearly all the other plants had gone.

Ianto had moved them out of the Hot House one by one. They were stacked on the steps of the spiral staircase and Toshiko had to climb very carefully through the foliage to reach the door to the pod. Inside, more plants had been moved to the floor on the far side, away from Ianto’s own little flower, and many of the racks had been completely cleared.

“Ianto…what’s happened up here?”

“Nothing,” Ianto grunted, straightening after placing the heavy glass bell jar containing who-knew-what by the door, “I’m just making a bit of space.”

“For what?”

“For the plant. It’s getting crowded. It can’t grow properly without light and space.”

Toshiko stepped into the Hot House, which now seemed very bare. Her voice echoed slightly against the glass walls as she spoke, “Does Owen know you’ve done this?”

“Owen?” Ianto repeated, “What’s his got to do with him?”

“Well, he sort of…kept this place going, didn’t he?”

“Owen’s got other things on his mind right now. As I think I have already pointed out.”

“And you?”

“What about me?”

“Jack says you’re obsessed with this plant thing,” Toshiko said carefully.

Ianto smiled, “He’s jealous.”

“Possible. You are giving it a lot of attention though. And it’s just a plant, after all.”

“He worries too much, and so do you. That’s your problem, Tosh. Too much worrying. Sometimes you’ve just got to do what’s right and ignore everything else.”

Toshiko was a little taken aback. She had never heard Ianto speak like this. He didn’t sound hostile, but there was something wrong. She took a deep breath and said, “I thought it was time we took a sample for investigation.”

He looked at her, and saw she was holding a microscope slide.

“You can’t,” he said.

“I only need a tiny piece,” Toshiko said, “I want to have a look at its cellular make-up.”

“You can’t,” Ianto repeated.

He said it simply, and with a smile, but Toshiko didn’t doubt him for a second, “All right,” she relented, “But I’ll have to tell Jack. He asked specifically. At the very least the plant needs to be catalogued, and we can’t do that without a cell sample.”

She left the Hot House, still holding the empty slide, while Ianto carefully added a few more drops of water to the plant’s soil.

---------------

“Hey,” Jack said from the doorway, “Need a break?”

“No thanks. I’m good here.”

“Kinda weird, though,” Jack said, leaning back against the glass that overlooked the rest of the Hub, He took a sip from his mug of coffee, “I mean, you sitting there like that. Doing nothing.”

“I’m not doing nothing,” Ianto stated. He didn’t look at Jack. His attention was fixed on the plant. It was all that was left in the Hot House now, with the exception of the swivel chair Ianto was sitting on, right in front of it.

“Right,” Jack agreed slowly, “I guess I missed that.”

“Yes,” agreed Ianto, “I guess you did.”

“The others are getting pretty worried about you.”

“There’s no need for anyone to worry. We’re fine.”

“We?”

“I’m fine. I’m fine, really.” Ianto looked up at Jack, “Really.”

“Okay,” Jack said. He sipped his coffee again and grimaced, “Thing is, we’re all drinking lousy coffee here now. This stuff is disgusting. Tastes like Sontaran dysentery. And believe me, that’s something you don’t want to taste twice.”

“There’s more to life than coffee.”

“What, really?”

“That’s all you think I’m good for, isn’t it, Jack? Making coffee.”

Jack grinned, “Well, I can think of a couple other things you’re good for.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

Jack moved further into the room, keeping his hands in his pockets, casual, “Ianto, this has gone far enough. You need a break. You haven’t slept in two days. You haven’t shaved either. And you know what I  think of beard rash.”

“Bring me a razor and I’ll shave.”

“Sure. How about a change of clothes too? Because frankly, Ianto, you ain’t as fragrant as you used to be.”

“I’m not leaving. More important things to do in here.”

“Just for ten minutes, then. A comfort break?”

“Don’t need one. Haven’t drunk anything in the last twenty-four hours.”

Something crunched under Jack’s boot and he noticed some tiny pieces of broken glass glinting on the floor behind Ianto’s chair. He stepped carefully over them and leaned on the back of the chair. It creaked slightly but Ianto didn’t move. Jack took a deep breath, “Don’t you think this is all a bit…unusual?” Receiving no reply, Jack squatted down at the side of the chair, speaking softly, “Ianto…I need a cell sample from the plant. We have to check it out, see what makes it tick. I mean, we know it doesn’t actually tick. We just want to find out what it is, what it’s doing.”

“It’s growing. It’s a plant. What else would it do?”

“Well, we don’t know. That’s why we’d like to check it out,” Jack held up a slim rectangle of glass, “I’ve got a slide right here. Let me take a sample and I can get out of here, leave you and the plant alone together. How does that sound?”

No answer.

“Toshiko’s got the equipment ready to do. All she needs is a sample. How about it?”

Still no answer.

Jack moved towards the plant, extending his hand with the microscope slide. Ianto grabbed Jack’s wrist, fast as a rattlesnake. His knuckles were white, but his eyes were red – bloodshot, but wide and alert.

“Don’t touch it,” he hissed, “You can’t touch it!”

Jack tried to pull away, but Ianto held him in a surprisingly strong grip. They struggled against each other for a few seconds until Jack wrenched his arm free, “Goddamnit, Ianto, I’m not fighting you over a plant!”

“Then don’t fight me!” Ianto cried hotly, “Just leave me alone and everything will be fine. Can’t you see that?”

Jack stood up, breathing heavily, “What’s up with your arm?”

“What?” Ianto looked down at his arm, where the shirt cuff had been pulled away to reveal a series of sticking plasters on the white flesh, “Nothing. I had an accident, that’s all. I was moving one of the specimens and the jar broke. Cut my arm. It’s nothing.”

Jack glanced down at the fragments of glass on the floor, “You need to be more careful.”

“I’ll brush it up later.”

“I wasn’t talking about the glass.”

Jack tossed the slide down onto the floor and walked out.

---------------

There was no natural light in the Hub. The Torchwood base was located deep below ground, and there were no windows. It was sometimes impossible to tell the difference between day and night, and this made it very easy to lose track of time. To counteract this, and maintain some vague kind of biological clock, Jack found it useful to dim the lights in the evening, and then turn them right back up in the morning. Ianto had once likened it to life on a submarine. Jack had winked and told him that he’d once spent many weeks onboard a German U-Boat in World War Two, “Technically I was a prisoner of war, but we were submerged for a long time and, well, sailors are sailors the world over.”

That had been in the early days, when Ianto blushed easily, “They’re called submariners,” he’d muttered, “Not sailors.”

Jack smiled at the memory. There was always a hint of the pedant about Ianto. Underneath that soft exterior, there was steel. Very very people got to know that. Those that did usually regretted it.

“He’ll be okay,” Gwen said quietly, joining him by the circular window in his office which overlooked the Hub. It was gone midnight and the vase chamber was in semi-darkness. On the far side they could see the glow of the lights in the Hot House, and Ianto, still sitting there watching his plant, “We’ll find a way.”

“Sure. We could just storm in and drag him out if we wanted to,” Jack sighed, “That’s what Owen wants.”

“Since when did you take any notice of what Owen wants?”

“There has to be a better way, Gwen. I don’t want to hurt him”

“He’ll fall asleep eventually. He has to. That’s what the police do in siege situations. Wait long enough and they’ll just…nod off.”

“Ianto won’t. He’s tougher than he looks. And that plant’s got a grip on him. I don’t know how, but I’m going to bread that grip, Gwen. That I promise.”

“He’s moving,” Gwen said suddenly.

Ianto was little more than a silhouette, but he had got up from his chair.

They both ran out of the office, Jack leaping down the steps to the lower level while Gwen clattered along behind him. Eventually she grabbed his arm and pulled him to a halt, “Wait!” she hissed, “Don’t rush! He’ll hear us!”

Owen emerged from the cells, looked at Jack and Gwen, glanced up at the Hot House. He realised immediately something was up and shot a questioning look at Gwen.

She raised a finger to her lips, signalling caution.

Jack was already moving up the spiral staircase, as quick and silent as a jungle cat. Gwen followed, trying to match him. Automatically, she reached behind her hip for her pistol, only then remembering that it was on her desk. She glanced behind her, past Owen, and saw Tosh heading towards them as well, pausing only to collect her PDA.

In the Hot House, Ianto was bent over his plant. His shirtsleeve was rolled up past his elbow, and his forearm was extended. The plasters had been removed. There were deep cuts in the flesh, and the blood stood out stark and red against the white skin, running down his wrist. His fist was clenched so the blood came freely, trickling into the soil of the plant pot.

Jack stood in the doorway, transfixed by the sight. He felt as if he was intruding on an intensely private communion. Ianto was oblivious, his full concentration on the plant. As Jack watched, a thing proboscis emerged from the plant stem, extending like the tongue of a hummingbird towards Ianto’s arm. It burrowed into the wound, pulsing slightly as it lapped up the blood.

“Bastard!” Jack had seen more than enough, hurling himself across the room, wrenching Ianto away from the plant. Blood jetted into the air as he spun away, collapsing into the waiting arms of Owen and Gwen. They lowered him gently to the floor.

The plant actually hissed.

Jack swept it off the shelf with enough force to send it crashing into the far wall. The pot burst against the glass in a shower of dirt. The plant hit the floor, white roots writhing in the air, groping like a hundred fingers for the scattered soil. Two quick strides took Jack to where it lay. He raised his boot and crushed the plant flat, screwing his feel down until it left a smear of green and red across the floor.

Instantly, Ianto fell slack. His head lolled as Gwen tried to sit him up. Owen was already putting a field dressing on his arm, “Okay, Ianto, you’re all right. We’ve got you. You’re going to be fine.”

Toshiko scanned the remains of the plant with her PDA, “No life signs,” she reported, “Whatever it was, it’s head. And not before time, I have to say.”

Jack’s lip curled in disgust, “What the hell was it?”

“A plant,” Owen said, “Some time of telepathic species, perhaps, using mind control of the local fauna for protection. It used Ianto to look after it, protect it, feed it. He was nothing more than a slave.”

“He’s all right now, though,” Gwen assured him, “The moment you killed it, I felt him relax, like a puppet with its strings cut. He’s free of the influence.”

Jack turned to leave, “Get this place cleaned up. Get Ianto cleaned up. This room feels dirty now.”

Gwen rested a hand on his arm, “Don’t be hard on yourself. No one knew what to do for the best.”

“Except the plant?”

“It’s gone. We’re still here. Ianto’s still here.”

“What if we hadn’t been alert? What if it had reproduced, spread seeds, got out of the Hub? Imagine a whole planet with those things growing in every park and hedgerow. The human race could have been reduced to mindless slaves doing nothing but feeding blood sucking plants,” He shrugged, then looked back up at his people, This is our life, guys. This is Torchwood. We can’t relax. We can’t hesitate. We have to be ready.”