desperately seeking ( open to capnhotness )
Hands that aren't really his - nail-bitten, ungraceful - clench and shake on the steering wheel before Ianto convinces himself to get out of the car. He's parked like a civilian in this area for the first time in years; compulsion tells him to use the garage like he always does, only that it might not even be there any longer. He isn't even ( Read more... )
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The Hub, surprisingly quiet for the base of a supposedly secret alien investigating organization being infiltrated none-too-sophisticatedly by a civilian, is much different in this universe. It's brightly lit, fluorescent lighting reflecting off the surgically clean white-and-chrome walls that have replaced Victorian architecture give the entire place a more Canary Wharf feel, and the lift is self-contained, running down a glass encasement from the surface to where the water from the tower collects into a reflecting pool. There is no shriek of a roosting pterosaur, no alarm of unauthorized lift use, and no one waiting for Ianto when he arrives with guns drawn demanding answers for the intrusion. There is, however, music. It pipes quietly through an unseen sound system, something soft and contemporary, but so misplaced with the decor that it's the only obvious thing out of place, as if someone had turned on the radio in an empty office while everyone else was out to give it the feel of depth and life ( ... )
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It becomes quickly apparent to Ianto, once the lift gets below the surface, that this is and isn't Torchwood Three. He touches a wondering hand up just short of the glass, staring at the reflection that isn't his, so untidy and foreign, like he's in college again and just off an all-night binge writing a term paper and subsisting on coffee and crisps. He looks down at the Hub below and feels (not) his insides twist uncomfortably; it's too pristine, too modern, to be the Torchwood that Jack Harkness commands. Ianto feels more apt to see Yvonne Hartman walking around below, barking out orders through her Bluetooth headset, and hopes with a sudden panic that he won't run into anyone else - Lisa - that he'd recognize from Canary Wharf ( ... )
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Jack is surprised, to say the very least, that this man is so straight forward, when nothing but his posture in lovingly worn denims and a jumper suggests he might have a backbone. Of course, Jack Harkness only shows his cards when he wants to, so the surprises passes without indication as he shakes hands with the self-identified Ianto Jones. If he were interfaced with the Hub computer, he could confirm the likely story in the blink of an eye, cross-referencing government databases and records, but unfortunately he isn't and the man's identity will need to be checked by hand ( ... )
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It feels more than a little surreal to be 'meeting' (a) Jack Harkness, but Ianto tries to take it in stride as well as he would take any routine day at the Torchwood in his own universe. He's very good at keeping a professional front, although he's lacking his usual armor of suit and tie, well-kept grooming and polite smile. He's curious over the statement this Jack makes, but doesn't ask any unnecessary questions of the man. A great deal could depend on how this meeting goes, and he isn't going to do anything to consciously jeopardize the potential of getting help.
Ianto allows himself to be steered into the break room, looking around in interest - and wondering if this Jack is going to make the coffee. And if he's awful at it like his Jack is. "I'm from a parallel universe," he says to start, getting to the point of this entire mess hard and fast, because that's obviously what Jack wants ... something to 'grab' his interest. Ianto thinks this should suffice. "I work for the Torchwood in my universe, which is ... how I know ( ... )
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