(no subject)
A single trail of rain runs over Ianto’s cheek and further, down his neck, under his collar. More raindrops follow. He blinks, a futile effort to see amidst the onslaught of welsh weather that’s decided to surprise them. Combing his hair back through his fingers, so that it spikes up oddly but stops the rain from dripping in his eyes, Ianto crouches down and runs a reader over a small burn mark on the pavement slab in the Hayes. The thing flickers wildly, a high whistling sound signalling what Ianto wants and doesn’t want to know all at the same time.
He sighs, leans back on his haunches, and calls Jack over, ignoring the large wet patch on the back of his jacket and shirt which feels clammy and uncomfortable against his skin.
“It was here,” he says, welsh accent too soft under the noise of the rain. Jack strides over and crouches next to him, thigh warm as it presses against the wet fabric of Ianto’s trousers. Reaching for the device in Ianto’s hand, Jack runs it over the stone. He whistles through his teeth as the machine splutters and clicks like a Geiger counter, before handing the reader back to Ianto and standing up. Placing his hands in his pockets he sighs, as though planning their next point of action.
In the background, Ianto can see Gwen looking over, watching them in bewilderment as though waiting for some sort of prompt for what she should do. The lights of the SUV have been switched on to full, lighting the area in which they work, turning rain drops crystal. He stands up and edges passed Jack, heading for the SUV.
“Fluxotorius Mosmantos. That’s a Saturn Slug to you and me. These things find their way onto stone and metal and burn through. Disastrous near buildings, let me tell you. Not so great in the centre of Cardiff, as you’d probably imagine.
“We can get a track on these things if we hurry. They tend to leave a powerful residue behind them. Burns white under UV light. This mark looks fresh. I bet you anything even the rain won’t matter if the thing was here less than an hour ago.”
Ianto looks between Gwen and Jack, trying to hide the smirk that comes from seeing Gwen’s complete and utter confusion. They had all been there at one point, all had that time where they had entered their first or second proper mission with Jack and been taken aback by his overpowering enthusiasm and knowledge for everything extra-terrestrial.
It’s not exactly a common thing for Ianto to be out on a case though. He had been surprised when Jack had invited him along, even if he had been the most obvious choice for cleaning up the mess whilst Jack showed off to Gwen. He tuts absently to himself and begins hunting for the black-light in the back of the SUV.
Gwen was an attractive woman, Ianto had to admit. It would be hard not to fancy her just a bit. He watches Jack’s hand slide against her arm as he says something softly to her. She blushes at that wide, easy smile, avoids his gaze as he stands close to her and explains slugs in a way in which Ianto has never thought slugs could be explained. He even made creatures covered in slime sound slightly exotic. He could charm anyone.
Ianto sighs again as he brushes his wet fringe out of his eyes and searches more vehemently until at last he spots the shine of the black-light’s metal case. He hoists the light out of the SUV, connects it to a large battery pack in the back, and unfurls the wire until the light reaches the burn mark on the pavement and the street is decorated in curling black lead.
When the light is switched on, the pavement underneath his feet glows white, like an ice covered floor. He looks up at Gwen and Jack. Their faces are illuminated, and in the eerie UV light, their features are deep and haunted. Ianto looks down again and follows a single glowing white line that leads away from the burn mark, in the direction of Working Street.
Jack smile is manic as he starts to jog towards the St. David’s Hall.
“Come on, Gwen Cooper. Let us show you what Torchwood is all about.”
------
Owen’s standing near Cardiff Castle when they turn the corner and walk down St John’s Street, to the corner of Duke Street. He’s shining a torch in a small gap in the wall, and doing his best not to get the slime from a trail on the bottom of his shoes. Ianto and Gwen both follow Jack as he runs across the surprisingly empty road and crouches next to Owen. Gwen’s the next to reach them; her eyes narrow as she looks into the small hole.
“Why’s that trail visible but the one over there isn’t?”
“It’s fresh.” Even as Jack speaks, the slime begins to dim in colour and then fades entirely.
“Where’s it gone?”
“Through the walls, I guess.”
“What? It’s gone in there,” cried Gwen, pointing her finger at the castle. “How are we meant to get in there?”
“Ianto?”
Ianto smiles. “On my way, sir.”
Raising an eyebrow at Jack, Gwen watches as both Owen and Ianto disappear around the corner. They head for Bute Park, towards the North Gate of the castle. They’ve done this before, not three months back, when an old Lord and Lady had fallen through the rift and surprised a few visitors when they walked in on a group in the Great Hall. The castle had had such a boost in tourism that Ianto had felt almost guilty when Torchwood had sent them back to the 1700’s.
“Age before beauty,” Ianto offers, opening the small hidden door and gesturing for Owen to go ahead.
“You’re not funny, Jones.”
“So you’ve told me, Harper, many times.”
“Jack, we’re in. We’ll check the area then you and Gwen can come in,” Ianto says, finger pressing his ear piece and he follows Owen through the archway.
“Say, what do you think of that Cooper bird?” Owen asks as they walk alongside the moat of the keep, towards the outside wall. The castle grounds are peaceful and quite. Surprisingly absent of the sounds of the city traffic, it seems to reflect a haunting age of years gone by, when soldiers and gentry walked in the walls instead of tourists and night-guards.
“Gwen’s fine. Why?”
“I bet Jack’s trying to get in there. You see the way he is around her?”
“Is it any wonder that he’s looking for a prodigy after Suzie?”
Ianto sets down some quarantine bags and equipment, and begins to scan the ground around them with the reader from before. It gives off a static hum but generally seems devoid of any indication that there is alien life there.
“He’s got enough prodigies with us.”
Ianto raised his eyebrow. “Not getting jealous are we, Owen?”
Owen pulls a face and points to the area by the wall. “Should’ve bought a battery-powered UV torch, eh?”
“It’s got to be around here somewhere.”
“Jack.” Ianto presses the intercom again, all the while pulling a face at Owen who returns one likewise. “We haven’t got a UV light and the reader isn’t showing anything.”
“There’s nothing outside either. Keep looking, Ianto. It’s got to be around here somewhere.”
“I just said that,” mutters Ianto after switching off the intercom. “Right, keep looking. We’ve got an alien to find and not much time to do it. Bosses orders,” Ianto adds upon seeing the look Owen gives him.
Following the line of the castle wall, Ianto traces the grass with his reader, willing the dial to flick over to something other than normal. The air is still, cold with the stirrings of autumn and the chill it brings, and the rain still falls, heavy and persistent. He pulls his jacket around him a little more and continues his search, peering into the darkness hopelessly.
“How long do you reckon she’s been with the police?”
Owen’s voice comes from a spot not too far in front of Ianto. Ianto rolls his eyes and shrugs.
“I have no idea.”
“Do you reckon she wore a police woman’s outfit? You know the ones; tight little skirts and shirts--”
“She wore trousers. I remember after nearly running her over.”
“You nearly run her over?” Owen shoots a scandalised look at Ianto who has the grace to look sorry for his actions.
“Nearly. It’s not like I was aiming.”
Owen looks at him in disbelief; Ianto somewhat feels that he has the right to.
“Still… I bet she’d do it if the right man asked.” Smiling roguishly at Ianto, Owen walks forward. He’s only gone two steps before he slips on the wet grass, and falls unceremoniously into a ditch. Ianto tries to restrain a smile as Owen fumbles his way out of the hole and brushes himself off. Mud covers the front of his jacket and his palms, and a sweep of dirt also spreads in a line across his cheek.
“Not one word, Jones. Not one fucking--”
Owens words are cut short as he lets out a tremendous yelp and looks down at his feet to where a Saturn Slug crawls, burning a line across the edge of his shoes. The creature is at least a foot long with a shell as big as a dinner plate. He yells again, kicking his foot into the air to try and fling the slug off his foot.
“You found it!” cries Ianto happily. He grabs a bag and runs toward Owen with a look of triumph on his face. “Hold still. You’ll kill it.”
“Oh, wouldn’t that be a shame!” snarls Owen, running to grab a bag as another slug appears from inside of the ditch. Across the field, from behind the keep, Jack and Gwen run, Jack in the lead as he pelts toward the two men. It’s only as he draws closer that Ianto can see another slug in his hands, gloved by the looks of it. He finishes sealing the top of his own bag and jogs over to help Jack as he fights with the slug.
“Do you want a bag?”
Jack glances down at the large, slimy thing in his hands. “Please.”
“The normal one or the huge one?”
“The huge one,” says Jack, weighing up the creature in his hands. “Do you have a huge one, Ianto?” he adds with a lop-sided smile.
“I’ve got a huge one, alright,” Ianto replies, dead-pan.
“Are you two going to actually do anything?” Owen scowls at the two of them and pushes passed Jack to place his snail in Ianto’s bag. “Disgusting. Absolutely bloody disgusting.”
Ianto tries not to grin as he fetches Jack a fresh bag and seals it once Jack drops the slug into it.
“Many thanks, Ianto.” Jack pats Ianto on the shoulder. Ianto feels a flare of something like pride, and turns away to stop from smiling.
“Is there anymore?” asks Gwen, nervously eyeing the three slugs, all of which glow slightly in their own consecutive bags.
“Colonies aren’t big. Three of four to each one. Tosh is coming to clean up. Owen? Stay here and help, would you?”
Marching away from Owen, who curses loudly and crosses his arms, eagerly awaiting Tosh’s arrival so that he can leave, Ianto, Jack and Gwen all head back to the Hayes and store the slugs away in the van, before retreating back to base, to home.
---
To: "Jack Harkness"
Sent: Wednesday, Sept 28, 2007 19:15 PM
From: "Ianto Jones"
Subject: Torchwood Case No #3122276
Case No #3122276
Wednesday, 2007-06-10
Cardiff Castle / 11:03pm
Upon discovering the creatures, my colleagues and I contained the specimens and returned them to the lab where we proceed to carry out further investigation. Report will be updated when biopsy and lab results come back.
Information to update : origins (possible rift split?)
To: "Ianto Jones"
Sent: Wednesday, Nov 28, 2007 19:17 PM
From: "Jack Harkness"
Subject: RE: Torchwood Case No #3122276
Why do you not hate me? That is the singularly most boring thing I have read in a while. And that’s including a love letter I got a couple of years back explaining why we couldn’t be together due to the impending climate changes and the effect it would have on their hair and skin. No, really. I’m never going for an environmental dermatologist ever again.
What do you think of Gwen?
To: "Jack Harkness"
Sent: Wednesday, Nov 28, 2007 19:26 PM
From: "Ianto Jones"
Subject: RE: Torchwood Case No #3629276
I certainly don’t hate you, Jack, even though I probably (read, definitely) should. And it’s not boring. It’s highly interesting.
[Edited to exclude sentence] This is why I’m the receptionist and you’re the one who ponces around fighting crime all day [End edit]
That question was… unexpected? Abrupt? Strange? She’s a lovely girl. But of course, the answer must be followed another question.
Why do you ask?
To: "Ianto Jones"
Sent: Wednesday, Nov 28, 2007 19:32 PM
From: "Jack Harkness"
Subject: RE: Torchwood Case No #3629276
Well, I certainly don’t find it interesting. Perhaps this is the reason why you’re my receptionist and I’m the super hero fighting crime all day! :) The world rests safe again knowing that Ianto is filing reports on slugs. (Alan Titmarsh does similar things, actually. Possible Torchwood Two agent?)
I was curious. You and Owen seem quite taken with her.
To: "Jack Harkness"
Sent: Wednesday, Nov 28, 2007 19:39 PM
From: "Ianto Jones"
Subject: RE: Torchwood Case No #3629276
No taking anywhere, sir. Just curious. After all, I’m the newest after her. I’ve never done this before. It’s quite a change seeing new people into the job.
To: "Ianto Jones"
Sent: Wednesday, Nov 28, 2007 19:32 PM
From: "Jack Harkness"
Subject: RE: Torchwood Case No #3629276
Very well, Ianto. Have your secrets.
Are you still here? Everyone’s gone home and I’ve nothing to amuse me. I’ve already beaten Owen’s Space Invaders score three times over.
[Not received until following morning]