fic - Killing The Blues - Part 2 - Torchwood AU
Killing The Blues - Part 2
Characters: Jack, Ianto, Jake (OC)
Torchwood AU.
Rating: G
Notes: Yeah, so I’ve finally gotten round to finishing this next part, in which very little happens. It’s a necessary linking part though. Hopefully my muse will start being more cooperative soon crosses fingers
The evening passed slowly, as these events frequently did Ianto thought to himself. He was charming and witty and worked the room like a pro. Always the consummate businessman, he knew that much as he disliked having to network, it was useful. Knowledge was power after all.
He noticed everything, ever the observer, the one part of these things that he enjoyed was watching people. He saw the narrowed eyes of wives as they saw their husbands flirting, the disdain of the snobs as they were forced to speak with people they felt were below them. The happiness of the older ladies as they spoke to beautiful charming young people. And the shining blue eyes of Jack Harkness, which he felt following him throughout the event as he moved round the room.
People began leaving as it came to an end, Ianto waited in the foyer, eyes scanning the crowd for Jake. Suddenly his gaze was met with a cheeky grin and those shining eyes again, ‘Damn that man’ he thought to himself, still, he smiled charmingly and watching as Jack Harkness climbed into a shining black Ranger Rover.
“Hey Ianto,” Jake said, bouncing up to him. He laughed as he followed Ianto’s gaze, and whispered in his ear in a sing-song voice.
“You like him,”
“I don. . . . he’s interesting,” Ianto decided on. His mind caught up with what he’d said, and he mentally nodded to himself, yes, that was ok.
Jake grabbed his arm,
“Come on, let’s get you home, so you can have sweet dreams about the hunky American.”
He raised an eyebrow as he looked at his friend, but didn’t reply.
Turning to wave to Jake he opened his front door; closing it behind him he sighed, resting against the solid wood. Shutting his eyes he was unable to prevent his mind being filled with a vision of bright blue eyes and a cheeky smirk.
Not moving, he kept his eyes closed, and concentrating, flicked through the possibilities in his head; considering what he could, should, and wanted to do.
Heading decisively through to the kitchen he put on the coffee machine and then went and changed out of his dinner jacket, slipping on worn, soft jeans and a t shirt. He went and switched on his computer before retrieving the coffee, and deciding that he should probably take the whole pot with him if he was going to be up for a while.
Sitting down in front of the screen he quickly flicked into the email from Jack Harkness, which he had briefly looked at earlier that day.
It was clearly and succinctly written; he was interested in hiring Ianto to create a new website for his school and to design and cost a project to upgrade their entire computer system and network. If he was interested.
Ianto couldn’t help but smile to himself. Whoever had given his details to Captain Harkness had clearly made certain that he realised Ianto only took on work if he chose. The email left everything in Ianto’s hands, with only the final line; saying that Jack would like to hear from him in two weeks if he wasn’t interested so that he could make alternative arrangements, giving any sign of an ultimatum.
He followed the link to the school’s website, and bit back a grimace at the old, slow site. At least it wasn’t horribly ugly, just plain. Finding the information he wanted he sat back and read about the school, and its Head/Owner/Founder, Captain Jack Harkness.
Harkness set up the school ten years ago when realised that there were a group of young people, gifted, difficult children, often from dysfunctional families, who were being excluded from mainstream school. Some had been bullied, some were in trouble with the police, but all were very bright, sometimes too much so for their families, if they had them, to handle.
He set up the school with a great deal of his own money, and gathered a large number of funds and endowments and grants from other people and organisations all over the world. Ianto realised as he was reading, that Harkness was seriously connected.
He also hounded local authorities and the government for funds, saying that they had a responsibility to educate these children. The school was small and residential; there were only sixty children in it at any one time, ranging from 11 to 18 year olds, both boys and girls.
The children were accepted through interview only. Ianto smiled at that, he liked that there was no testing for them. Clearly Harkness knew what he was looking for.
He read through reports on the site of what people who had been students at the school had done since they left, and was amazed and impressed at their achievements and at the aim and ethos of the school.
Sitting back he realised that his coffee was cold, so he may be able to sleep, hopefully he would because he knew he had to think things over before making a final decision. He switched off the machine and took the coffee through to the kitchen pouring the contents of the pot and mug down the sink before rinsing them out and leaving them on the drainer. For a brief moment he considered drying them up, but tiredness overwhelmed his obsessiveness for once and he left them.
Having had a quick shower and brushing his teeth he climbed into bed, curling into his pillow for once sleep overwhelmed him easily. He dreamed of a crisp American accent, and beautiful blue eyes.
Characters: Jack, Ianto, Jake (OC)
Torchwood AU.
Rating: G
Notes: Yeah, so I’ve finally gotten round to finishing this next part, in which very little happens. It’s a necessary linking part though. Hopefully my muse will start being more cooperative soon crosses fingers
The evening passed slowly, as these events frequently did Ianto thought to himself. He was charming and witty and worked the room like a pro. Always the consummate businessman, he knew that much as he disliked having to network, it was useful. Knowledge was power after all.
He noticed everything, ever the observer, the one part of these things that he enjoyed was watching people. He saw the narrowed eyes of wives as they saw their husbands flirting, the disdain of the snobs as they were forced to speak with people they felt were below them. The happiness of the older ladies as they spoke to beautiful charming young people. And the shining blue eyes of Jack Harkness, which he felt following him throughout the event as he moved round the room.
People began leaving as it came to an end, Ianto waited in the foyer, eyes scanning the crowd for Jake. Suddenly his gaze was met with a cheeky grin and those shining eyes again, ‘Damn that man’ he thought to himself, still, he smiled charmingly and watching as Jack Harkness climbed into a shining black Ranger Rover.
“Hey Ianto,” Jake said, bouncing up to him. He laughed as he followed Ianto’s gaze, and whispered in his ear in a sing-song voice.
“You like him,”
“I don. . . . he’s interesting,” Ianto decided on. His mind caught up with what he’d said, and he mentally nodded to himself, yes, that was ok.
Jake grabbed his arm,
“Come on, let’s get you home, so you can have sweet dreams about the hunky American.”
He raised an eyebrow as he looked at his friend, but didn’t reply.
Turning to wave to Jake he opened his front door; closing it behind him he sighed, resting against the solid wood. Shutting his eyes he was unable to prevent his mind being filled with a vision of bright blue eyes and a cheeky smirk.
Not moving, he kept his eyes closed, and concentrating, flicked through the possibilities in his head; considering what he could, should, and wanted to do.
Heading decisively through to the kitchen he put on the coffee machine and then went and changed out of his dinner jacket, slipping on worn, soft jeans and a t shirt. He went and switched on his computer before retrieving the coffee, and deciding that he should probably take the whole pot with him if he was going to be up for a while.
Sitting down in front of the screen he quickly flicked into the email from Jack Harkness, which he had briefly looked at earlier that day.
It was clearly and succinctly written; he was interested in hiring Ianto to create a new website for his school and to design and cost a project to upgrade their entire computer system and network. If he was interested.
Ianto couldn’t help but smile to himself. Whoever had given his details to Captain Harkness had clearly made certain that he realised Ianto only took on work if he chose. The email left everything in Ianto’s hands, with only the final line; saying that Jack would like to hear from him in two weeks if he wasn’t interested so that he could make alternative arrangements, giving any sign of an ultimatum.
He followed the link to the school’s website, and bit back a grimace at the old, slow site. At least it wasn’t horribly ugly, just plain. Finding the information he wanted he sat back and read about the school, and its Head/Owner/Founder, Captain Jack Harkness.
Harkness set up the school ten years ago when realised that there were a group of young people, gifted, difficult children, often from dysfunctional families, who were being excluded from mainstream school. Some had been bullied, some were in trouble with the police, but all were very bright, sometimes too much so for their families, if they had them, to handle.
He set up the school with a great deal of his own money, and gathered a large number of funds and endowments and grants from other people and organisations all over the world. Ianto realised as he was reading, that Harkness was seriously connected.
He also hounded local authorities and the government for funds, saying that they had a responsibility to educate these children. The school was small and residential; there were only sixty children in it at any one time, ranging from 11 to 18 year olds, both boys and girls.
The children were accepted through interview only. Ianto smiled at that, he liked that there was no testing for them. Clearly Harkness knew what he was looking for.
He read through reports on the site of what people who had been students at the school had done since they left, and was amazed and impressed at their achievements and at the aim and ethos of the school.
Sitting back he realised that his coffee was cold, so he may be able to sleep, hopefully he would because he knew he had to think things over before making a final decision. He switched off the machine and took the coffee through to the kitchen pouring the contents of the pot and mug down the sink before rinsing them out and leaving them on the drainer. For a brief moment he considered drying them up, but tiredness overwhelmed his obsessiveness for once and he left them.
Having had a quick shower and brushing his teeth he climbed into bed, curling into his pillow for once sleep overwhelmed him easily. He dreamed of a crisp American accent, and beautiful blue eyes.