Does Africa Know A Song Of Me? - Part 9/10
Title: Does Africa Know A Song Of Me?
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairings: Jack/Ianto, mentions of Gwen/Rhys, Martha/Tom
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: No, I don't own Torchwood. Things would be rather different if I did.
Spoilers: Set sometime late in an alternate version of S2 (where no one is dead)
Summary: Jack gets a call from UNIT. They need his help... in Namibia. And when they arrive, Jack and Ianto (because Jack wouldn't leave him behind) discover the only communication they have with the team is letters...
Author's Note: The title is taken from a quote from the film 'Out Of Africa'. This was written for tw_bigbang
Thanks to: The wonderful morbid_sparks for beta'ing, cheerleading and letting me complain about not knowing where the plot was going.
Also huge thanks to my lovely bigbang artist, wrenriddle - find her fanmix and beautiful cover art for this story here.
Previous Parts: One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight
Does Africa Know A Song of Me?
Namibia
14th May 2008
Dear all,
Thank you all very much for all your well wishes. I’m feeling a lot better now, even if Jack insists that I stay in bed and rest until at least tomorrow. I suppose he’s right that I am still quite tired and a bit weak from not eating enough for the last week and a half, but in every other way I’m better (and feeling a little bit useless stuck in bed). I definitely want to thank you, Owen, and Martha if you are still there when this letter arrives, for those pills. While they weren’t the instant cure I think Jack was over-optimistically hoping for, they made the last several days a lot more bearable.
Yes, Jack has been taking very good care of me, and he wants me to assure you that he’s been a perfect gentleman, Owen. (He has, by the way; I’m not just saying that because he asked me to. Even when I aske… No, I’m not saying anything about that.)
Anyway, I’m nearly recovered, so hopefully tomorrow I will be able to return to actually doing my job and working out what is going on here so we can come home soon. Jack has been out taking another look or two on his own the last couple of days since I’ve been feeling better, so I’ll let him tell you about it. (He’s told me already, so I could tell you, but he’s insisting that I don’t tax myself by writing too much. You’d think I was made of glass.)
I don’t think it’s a bad thing that I don’t want him jumping back into doing too much, however much Ianto may complain.
Anyway.
There’s absolutely nothing visible out there at all. I’ve gone over the whole ‘active’ area twice, and even felt a very minor localised earthquake myself, but there’s just nothing. These aliens, whoever or whatever they are, are either invisible (well, very well cloaked), on a slightly different plane, or - the simplest explanation but also one I’d expect to see more evidence of - underground.
I’m wracking my memory for where I’ve seen these energy readings before, and I know it is in there somewhere, but there’s an awful lot rattling around in this head of mine now. I can’t even remember if it’s from before or after I ended up involved in Torchwood. I wish we had an internet connection here right now so I could send you a data file to compare to the Torchwood archives - there might not be anything even if it was with Torchwood I saw it (Torchwood was way ahead with computerisation but even still there’s nothing before the late 40s) but there might be. And if there isn’t it would at least rule out a few time periods.
If I could describe it to you in letter form, I would. These last two weeks I have really hated the lack of communications out here; there’s a reason the internet was invented, after all.
I’m glad to hear things are getting back to normal out there. I know the Rift going really quiet can be disturbing and worrying, but I would make the most of it if I were you. Divert all the alerts to your phones (I know you can do it, Tosh, you told me so yourself) and take some time off. Go pretend to be normal people with actual lives for a few days. Obviously someone will still have to be coming in at least once every day to make sure Myfanwy, the Weevils and the Hoix are fed (you know Ianto would never forgive you if you let Myfanwy starve), but if you organise yourselves that shouldn’t stop you from taking full advantage of a quiet Rift.
It doesn’t surprise me that Commander Brown isn’t the most popular person even with UNIT personnel. He’s… I probably shouldn’t start on telling you what I think he is or I will be here writing all day. Let’s just leave it at the fact that I don’t like him, and I can see why other people wouldn’t either. He is generally quite competent at doing his job, though (other than when he’s deliberately trying to sabotage Torchwood’s efforts, as it sounds like he was doing to you).
Hopefully we won’t ever have cause to get in touch with any of your new friends in the UNIT ranks (well, professionally, at least - I have no issues if any of you want to keep in touch with them socially) but it’s relieving to know they’re there - especially at the moment when Ianto and I are just too far away to rush back and help in a crisis.
I am looking forward to being the subject of Rhys’s culinary experiments. I like to experiment in the kitchen too, when I have the chance, but Ianto won’t let me loose in his flat and you know that the Hub doesn’t really have a proper kitchen.
Keep safe,
Jack & Ianto
Namibia
14th May 2008
Dear Tosh,
I wish I could have been there with you and the rest this last week and a half - not that Jack hasn’t been wonderful, but there’s something about being ill that does rather make you long for your own bed and familiar surroundings.
I don’t doubt that Jack’s letter was rather on the frantic side. I think he was more panicked than I was by the time we reached the clinic, even though I’m the one that was sick. I don’t remember it all that clearly, because everything was washed away a bit in the pain and the trying not to throw up, but he was clinging onto me almost as tightly as I was holding onto him, and I’m fairly certain he begged me more than once to ‘not die on him, please’.
He’s taken very good care of me since we got back here, though. And you’re right, I hate being coddled and not being able to look after myself, but sometimes my body betrays me and forces me to just stay in bed while someone runs around after me.
Once he’d accepted that I was going to recover and be perfectly fine, I think Jack did actually revel in it, just a little bit. Maybe I should let him spoil me with this sort of treatment occasionally when we get home, even if I’m not ill. It’s a thought, anyway. I’d say I would let him be the one to get up in the morning and make breakfast sometimes, but I tried that once and… no, never again. (I had to buy a new toaster.)
I won’t object to the increased frequency of cuddles staying, though. There, I’m admitting it, I like cuddles (and Jack is a very good cuddler).
I was very glad to read (well, have Jack read to me, since he thinks this is helping) that things have settled down there again. I know you said not to worry, and just to concentrate on getting better, but I can’t help it.
You mean a lot to me, Tosh, I don’t want anything to happen to you.
When we get home - which I really do hope will be soon - I have a hug all stored up for you.
Hoping to see you sooner rather than later,
Ianto
Part Ten
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairings: Jack/Ianto, mentions of Gwen/Rhys, Martha/Tom
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: No, I don't own Torchwood. Things would be rather different if I did.
Spoilers: Set sometime late in an alternate version of S2 (where no one is dead)
Summary: Jack gets a call from UNIT. They need his help... in Namibia. And when they arrive, Jack and Ianto (because Jack wouldn't leave him behind) discover the only communication they have with the team is letters...
Author's Note: The title is taken from a quote from the film 'Out Of Africa'. This was written for tw_bigbang
Thanks to: The wonderful morbid_sparks for beta'ing, cheerleading and letting me complain about not knowing where the plot was going.
Also huge thanks to my lovely bigbang artist, wrenriddle - find her fanmix and beautiful cover art for this story here.
Previous Parts: One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight
Does Africa Know A Song of Me?
Namibia
14th May 2008
Dear all,
Thank you all very much for all your well wishes. I’m feeling a lot better now, even if Jack insists that I stay in bed and rest until at least tomorrow. I suppose he’s right that I am still quite tired and a bit weak from not eating enough for the last week and a half, but in every other way I’m better (and feeling a little bit useless stuck in bed). I definitely want to thank you, Owen, and Martha if you are still there when this letter arrives, for those pills. While they weren’t the instant cure I think Jack was over-optimistically hoping for, they made the last several days a lot more bearable.
Yes, Jack has been taking very good care of me, and he wants me to assure you that he’s been a perfect gentleman, Owen. (He has, by the way; I’m not just saying that because he asked me to. Even when I aske… No, I’m not saying anything about that.)
Anyway, I’m nearly recovered, so hopefully tomorrow I will be able to return to actually doing my job and working out what is going on here so we can come home soon. Jack has been out taking another look or two on his own the last couple of days since I’ve been feeling better, so I’ll let him tell you about it. (He’s told me already, so I could tell you, but he’s insisting that I don’t tax myself by writing too much. You’d think I was made of glass.)
I don’t think it’s a bad thing that I don’t want him jumping back into doing too much, however much Ianto may complain.
Anyway.
There’s absolutely nothing visible out there at all. I’ve gone over the whole ‘active’ area twice, and even felt a very minor localised earthquake myself, but there’s just nothing. These aliens, whoever or whatever they are, are either invisible (well, very well cloaked), on a slightly different plane, or - the simplest explanation but also one I’d expect to see more evidence of - underground.
I’m wracking my memory for where I’ve seen these energy readings before, and I know it is in there somewhere, but there’s an awful lot rattling around in this head of mine now. I can’t even remember if it’s from before or after I ended up involved in Torchwood. I wish we had an internet connection here right now so I could send you a data file to compare to the Torchwood archives - there might not be anything even if it was with Torchwood I saw it (Torchwood was way ahead with computerisation but even still there’s nothing before the late 40s) but there might be. And if there isn’t it would at least rule out a few time periods.
If I could describe it to you in letter form, I would. These last two weeks I have really hated the lack of communications out here; there’s a reason the internet was invented, after all.
I’m glad to hear things are getting back to normal out there. I know the Rift going really quiet can be disturbing and worrying, but I would make the most of it if I were you. Divert all the alerts to your phones (I know you can do it, Tosh, you told me so yourself) and take some time off. Go pretend to be normal people with actual lives for a few days. Obviously someone will still have to be coming in at least once every day to make sure Myfanwy, the Weevils and the Hoix are fed (you know Ianto would never forgive you if you let Myfanwy starve), but if you organise yourselves that shouldn’t stop you from taking full advantage of a quiet Rift.
It doesn’t surprise me that Commander Brown isn’t the most popular person even with UNIT personnel. He’s… I probably shouldn’t start on telling you what I think he is or I will be here writing all day. Let’s just leave it at the fact that I don’t like him, and I can see why other people wouldn’t either. He is generally quite competent at doing his job, though (other than when he’s deliberately trying to sabotage Torchwood’s efforts, as it sounds like he was doing to you).
Hopefully we won’t ever have cause to get in touch with any of your new friends in the UNIT ranks (well, professionally, at least - I have no issues if any of you want to keep in touch with them socially) but it’s relieving to know they’re there - especially at the moment when Ianto and I are just too far away to rush back and help in a crisis.
I am looking forward to being the subject of Rhys’s culinary experiments. I like to experiment in the kitchen too, when I have the chance, but Ianto won’t let me loose in his flat and you know that the Hub doesn’t really have a proper kitchen.
Keep safe,
Jack & Ianto
Namibia
14th May 2008
Dear Tosh,
I wish I could have been there with you and the rest this last week and a half - not that Jack hasn’t been wonderful, but there’s something about being ill that does rather make you long for your own bed and familiar surroundings.
I don’t doubt that Jack’s letter was rather on the frantic side. I think he was more panicked than I was by the time we reached the clinic, even though I’m the one that was sick. I don’t remember it all that clearly, because everything was washed away a bit in the pain and the trying not to throw up, but he was clinging onto me almost as tightly as I was holding onto him, and I’m fairly certain he begged me more than once to ‘not die on him, please’.
He’s taken very good care of me since we got back here, though. And you’re right, I hate being coddled and not being able to look after myself, but sometimes my body betrays me and forces me to just stay in bed while someone runs around after me.
Once he’d accepted that I was going to recover and be perfectly fine, I think Jack did actually revel in it, just a little bit. Maybe I should let him spoil me with this sort of treatment occasionally when we get home, even if I’m not ill. It’s a thought, anyway. I’d say I would let him be the one to get up in the morning and make breakfast sometimes, but I tried that once and… no, never again. (I had to buy a new toaster.)
I won’t object to the increased frequency of cuddles staying, though. There, I’m admitting it, I like cuddles (and Jack is a very good cuddler).
I was very glad to read (well, have Jack read to me, since he thinks this is helping) that things have settled down there again. I know you said not to worry, and just to concentrate on getting better, but I can’t help it.
You mean a lot to me, Tosh, I don’t want anything to happen to you.
When we get home - which I really do hope will be soon - I have a hug all stored up for you.
Hoping to see you sooner rather than later,
Ianto
Part Ten