Turning Point - 27/64
Title: Turning Point
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairings: budding Jack/Ianto, references to past Ianto/Lisa
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: If I was the one who owned Torchwood, you think I'd admit it now?
Spoilers: Some information and events from s1,2. NONE for s3.
Summary: In the aftermath of Lisa's death, Ianto is struggling to cope - and new surprises don't help matters much. Can his friends on the team at Torchwood help him carry on?
Author's Note: Sequel to Guilt.
Thanks to: My beta cazmalfoy, angelzbabe1989 for idea bouncing, and morbid_sparks for cheerleading even when she doesn't know what happens.
Previous chapters at master list
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Just as Ianto had predicted, their Friday was busy that week - and long. Now and then, all of them wished that they could have the sort of Fridays a vast number in the workforce got - the kind where you finished an hour early and made a start on the weekend.
They also missed the sort of weekends that didn’t mean coming into work just like any other day.
Or they would miss them, if they could remember what they were like.
Owen spent half of the morning grumbling his way through the paperwork required to formalise Suzie’s death. Losing a team-mate - even one you hadn’t really been all that close to for months, and Owen did wonder just how long they’d been ignoring Suzie for - was tough enough, without having to document it for the authorities. One form for Torchwood records, another that the ‘outside world’ would see; Owen thought it was all a bit much considering no one but them would ever see the body.
Her body had already been taken down to the Torchwood morgue - Jack had taken it down before any of them had even arrived that morning. As he had pointed out, it wasn’t like they needed an autopsy to figure out how she had died.
The only thing Owen thought might have been interesting, and possibly useful, was to scan her brain for any evidence of changes made by the glove’s influence. But, given her chosen method of suicide, that had been made rather impossible.
He couldn’t help but wonder if that had been deliberate on Suzie’s part.
Tosh and Ianto were working together on Gwen’s move from the Cardiff constabulary to Torchwood. Although it often worked in their favour for the local police force (and the hospitals and most other authorities) to recognise their name, they didn’t want to make their dealings too obvious. Little nudges had to be made to records here and there to make everything seem above board and transparent.
For some reason that Ianto couldn’t comprehend, Jack had assigned liaising for the day with Gwen to him - letting her know what she should say to colleagues and superiors to explain why she wouldn’t be returning the following week. Why he had delegated this particular task to him was a mystery; it wasn’t like he’d spent that much time with her the night before, was it?
None of them were entirely sure what Jack did for most of the morning. He disappeared almost as soon as he’d split up assignments and didn’t reappear until past lunchtime.
“All done?” he said; the lightness in his voice would have been obviously fake even to people who didn’t know him as well as Tosh, Owen and Ianto did.
“Paperwork is all filed in the appropriate places, with some help from Ianto,” Owen said, putting his nearly empty coffee mug down on his desk.
“And Gwen’s story is as sorted out as it is possible to be,” Tosh added. “She’ll be all set to start on Monday.”
Ianto managed a wry smile as he passed Jack, carrying the remains of the takeaway they had eaten for lunch. “If she hasn’t run screaming for the hills by then, of course.”
Jack shifted his shoulders, and Ianto knew there was part of him that was rather hoping she would.
“There’s chow mein in the fridge for you, by the way, if you haven’t eaten,” he added as an afterthought as he tipped the empty containers into a bin bag.
“I’ll have it later,” Jack said, shaking his head. “Right now, I have a task to carry out. It’s not going to be much fun and I’m going to need help from all of you.”
Owen spun in his chair to face away form the desk. “What is it?”
Jack sighed. “We need to pack up Suzie’s flat.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Comments and concrit are loved!
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairings: budding Jack/Ianto, references to past Ianto/Lisa
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: If I was the one who owned Torchwood, you think I'd admit it now?
Spoilers: Some information and events from s1,2. NONE for s3.
Summary: In the aftermath of Lisa's death, Ianto is struggling to cope - and new surprises don't help matters much. Can his friends on the team at Torchwood help him carry on?
Author's Note: Sequel to Guilt.
Thanks to: My beta cazmalfoy, angelzbabe1989 for idea bouncing, and morbid_sparks for cheerleading even when she doesn't know what happens.
Previous chapters at master list
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Just as Ianto had predicted, their Friday was busy that week - and long. Now and then, all of them wished that they could have the sort of Fridays a vast number in the workforce got - the kind where you finished an hour early and made a start on the weekend.
They also missed the sort of weekends that didn’t mean coming into work just like any other day.
Or they would miss them, if they could remember what they were like.
Owen spent half of the morning grumbling his way through the paperwork required to formalise Suzie’s death. Losing a team-mate - even one you hadn’t really been all that close to for months, and Owen did wonder just how long they’d been ignoring Suzie for - was tough enough, without having to document it for the authorities. One form for Torchwood records, another that the ‘outside world’ would see; Owen thought it was all a bit much considering no one but them would ever see the body.
Her body had already been taken down to the Torchwood morgue - Jack had taken it down before any of them had even arrived that morning. As he had pointed out, it wasn’t like they needed an autopsy to figure out how she had died.
The only thing Owen thought might have been interesting, and possibly useful, was to scan her brain for any evidence of changes made by the glove’s influence. But, given her chosen method of suicide, that had been made rather impossible.
He couldn’t help but wonder if that had been deliberate on Suzie’s part.
Tosh and Ianto were working together on Gwen’s move from the Cardiff constabulary to Torchwood. Although it often worked in their favour for the local police force (and the hospitals and most other authorities) to recognise their name, they didn’t want to make their dealings too obvious. Little nudges had to be made to records here and there to make everything seem above board and transparent.
For some reason that Ianto couldn’t comprehend, Jack had assigned liaising for the day with Gwen to him - letting her know what she should say to colleagues and superiors to explain why she wouldn’t be returning the following week. Why he had delegated this particular task to him was a mystery; it wasn’t like he’d spent that much time with her the night before, was it?
None of them were entirely sure what Jack did for most of the morning. He disappeared almost as soon as he’d split up assignments and didn’t reappear until past lunchtime.
“All done?” he said; the lightness in his voice would have been obviously fake even to people who didn’t know him as well as Tosh, Owen and Ianto did.
“Paperwork is all filed in the appropriate places, with some help from Ianto,” Owen said, putting his nearly empty coffee mug down on his desk.
“And Gwen’s story is as sorted out as it is possible to be,” Tosh added. “She’ll be all set to start on Monday.”
Ianto managed a wry smile as he passed Jack, carrying the remains of the takeaway they had eaten for lunch. “If she hasn’t run screaming for the hills by then, of course.”
Jack shifted his shoulders, and Ianto knew there was part of him that was rather hoping she would.
“There’s chow mein in the fridge for you, by the way, if you haven’t eaten,” he added as an afterthought as he tipped the empty containers into a bin bag.
“I’ll have it later,” Jack said, shaking his head. “Right now, I have a task to carry out. It’s not going to be much fun and I’m going to need help from all of you.”
Owen spun in his chair to face away form the desk. “What is it?”
Jack sighed. “We need to pack up Suzie’s flat.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Comments and concrit are loved!