Guilt - 23/70ish
Title: Guilt
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairings: Jack/Ianto, Ianto/Lisa
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Torchwood is not mine. No matter how much I sometimes wish it was.
Spoilers: Better say everything through s2, just to be sure. Begins pre-S1.
Summary: Has Ianto found something in the archives?
Thanks to: My beta cazmalfoy for all her wonderful work, and my cheerleaders angelzbabe1989 and piper08 for putting up with me when I whine about being stuck.
Author's Notes: Voting is open at Children Of Time - Brokeback Manor is nominated in the AU category - go vote!
Fic starts here
Previous chapters at my master list
Chapter Twenty-Three
They ate around the conference table, with Jack, as usual, attempting to keep the mood light by telling outrageous stories of his past exploits. Ianto was sure that at least half of them had to be made up, but they were at least amusing enough to distract him temporarily from the realities of life.
It wasn’t until he and Tosh were clearing away the remains that he remembered his request. Tosh quickly grasped what he wanted, and promised she would get right on it.
“It should be a fairly simple job, actually,” she told him. “Just a case of adding a few fields to the database. We might have to improve the search algorithms to make sure it catches all the right entries and doesn’t grind to a halt, but…”
She stopped and shook her head, apparently realising that her musings were about to descend into techo-babble, and although Ianto would probably understand, it wasn’t really necessary at this point. “I’ll try to have something for you to work with in a couple of hours.”
True to her word, Ianto was roused from his study of an unfortunately faded artefact label just over 90 minutes later by a call from Tosh.
“You know, you could have come find me in person instead of phoning,” he teased her gently as he approached her desk. Her mouth lifted in a half smile.
“I think I was afraid that you might rope me in to help. I’ve seen the mess down there,” she replied, beckoning him in to look over her shoulder as she briefly explained the changes she’d made to the system.
“There should actually be a workstation somewhere down there,” she told him as she finished, “so you can input the data from there if you want.”
Ianto nodded, thanking her and turning to return to the archives. He’d taken fewer than half a dozen steps when her voice called him back and he turned back to face her.
“It’s nice to see you looking, well, not happy, because you mostly seem frustrated, but, well, you know what I mean,” she babbled.
Ianto took a deep breath, realising that he did feel calmer and more in control than he had previously. “I feel like I’m actually doing something to help,” he explained quietly. “It helps.”
By early afternoon the following day, the controlled calm was beginning to slip a little. He’d developed a nice rhythm and method to his sorting, examining and logging small groups of items before returning to the small computer near the entrance of the archives and entering the data onto the newly improved database system.
He was making good progress, but he still hadn’t found that one all-important artefact he was looking for. Theoretically he knew that, given the size of the archives, it could take him quite some time to find it moving at his current pace.
Practically, he wanted to find it now, and he was beginning to grow disheartened as shelf after shelf was cleared without it turning up.
A small voice in his head began to taunt him that he might never find it. Even worse was the fear that it might have lost its label, and he could have passed right over it.
Resolutely telling the little voice in his head to kindly shut up, he picked up the next item from the shelf.
‘Yet another silvery box,’ he thought. At first, he had approached every item vaguely matching the description of his desired object excitedly, convinced that this would be the one. After a day and a half of disappointments, his enthusiasm was severely dampened.
Turning it over, he found the identifying label.
Item 02-135. Probable medical equipment. Unknown metallic elements present…
It took a few moments for the information to sink in, before he dropped his notebook and ran towards the main Hub, artefact held tight to his chest.
Chapter Twenty-Four
All comments and concrit welcomed! (Comments = Love <3)
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairings: Jack/Ianto, Ianto/Lisa
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Torchwood is not mine. No matter how much I sometimes wish it was.
Spoilers: Better say everything through s2, just to be sure. Begins pre-S1.
Summary: Has Ianto found something in the archives?
Thanks to: My beta cazmalfoy for all her wonderful work, and my cheerleaders angelzbabe1989 and piper08 for putting up with me when I whine about being stuck.
Author's Notes: Voting is open at Children Of Time - Brokeback Manor is nominated in the AU category - go vote!
Fic starts here
Previous chapters at my master list
Chapter Twenty-Three
They ate around the conference table, with Jack, as usual, attempting to keep the mood light by telling outrageous stories of his past exploits. Ianto was sure that at least half of them had to be made up, but they were at least amusing enough to distract him temporarily from the realities of life.
It wasn’t until he and Tosh were clearing away the remains that he remembered his request. Tosh quickly grasped what he wanted, and promised she would get right on it.
“It should be a fairly simple job, actually,” she told him. “Just a case of adding a few fields to the database. We might have to improve the search algorithms to make sure it catches all the right entries and doesn’t grind to a halt, but…”
She stopped and shook her head, apparently realising that her musings were about to descend into techo-babble, and although Ianto would probably understand, it wasn’t really necessary at this point. “I’ll try to have something for you to work with in a couple of hours.”
True to her word, Ianto was roused from his study of an unfortunately faded artefact label just over 90 minutes later by a call from Tosh.
“You know, you could have come find me in person instead of phoning,” he teased her gently as he approached her desk. Her mouth lifted in a half smile.
“I think I was afraid that you might rope me in to help. I’ve seen the mess down there,” she replied, beckoning him in to look over her shoulder as she briefly explained the changes she’d made to the system.
“There should actually be a workstation somewhere down there,” she told him as she finished, “so you can input the data from there if you want.”
Ianto nodded, thanking her and turning to return to the archives. He’d taken fewer than half a dozen steps when her voice called him back and he turned back to face her.
“It’s nice to see you looking, well, not happy, because you mostly seem frustrated, but, well, you know what I mean,” she babbled.
Ianto took a deep breath, realising that he did feel calmer and more in control than he had previously. “I feel like I’m actually doing something to help,” he explained quietly. “It helps.”
By early afternoon the following day, the controlled calm was beginning to slip a little. He’d developed a nice rhythm and method to his sorting, examining and logging small groups of items before returning to the small computer near the entrance of the archives and entering the data onto the newly improved database system.
He was making good progress, but he still hadn’t found that one all-important artefact he was looking for. Theoretically he knew that, given the size of the archives, it could take him quite some time to find it moving at his current pace.
Practically, he wanted to find it now, and he was beginning to grow disheartened as shelf after shelf was cleared without it turning up.
A small voice in his head began to taunt him that he might never find it. Even worse was the fear that it might have lost its label, and he could have passed right over it.
Resolutely telling the little voice in his head to kindly shut up, he picked up the next item from the shelf.
‘Yet another silvery box,’ he thought. At first, he had approached every item vaguely matching the description of his desired object excitedly, convinced that this would be the one. After a day and a half of disappointments, his enthusiasm was severely dampened.
Turning it over, he found the identifying label.
Item 02-135. Probable medical equipment. Unknown metallic elements present…
It took a few moments for the information to sink in, before he dropped his notebook and ran towards the main Hub, artefact held tight to his chest.
Chapter Twenty-Four
All comments and concrit welcomed! (Comments = Love <3)