Interdependent - Chapter Three
Ianto felt something break loose in his chest at Martha’s announcement.
Jack’s not on the planet anymore.
He could feel Ges’ryth curling around his mind in a mental hug, trying to comfort him. He silently thanked her, then asked Martha, “What happened?” He simply couldn’t conceive Jack leaving the Earth, not when he was still needed.
“His losses just got too much for him,” Martha explained from the front seat. “Losing you was bad enough…but the price he had to pay to defeat the 456 just about broke him.”
“What do you mean?” Ianto was afraid to hear her answer, but he needed to know.
“He…the 456 were emitting a signal that they discovered could be sent back to them and used to destroy them. The only thing was…” she paused, nibbling her lower lip, “a child had to be sacrificed to send the signal. Jack…had to use the only child he had, which was his grandson.”
“He…” Ianto swallowed hard. Poor Jack, having no choice but to use his on grandson in order to save the world’s children…
“Your loved one has suffered much,” Ges’ryth murmured, and he could feel her own disbelief and pain in the mental caress. “I find I cannot blame him for wanting to leave the place of so much loss.”
Ianto couldn’t really, either, although he hated the idea of Jack out there, somewhere, alone with his guilt and pain.
“We shall find him,” Ges’ryth promised fiercely. “The Tok’ra have many resources, as do the Tauri of the SGC. We will find your loved one and get him back to you.”
He hoped it would be that easy.
“What about Gwen?” he asked, hoping his last connection to Torchwood was safe.
“She’s fine,” Martha answered. “She and Rhys have gone to ground, which is one of the reasons they aren’t here with us. The other being that she’s pregnant, and I won’t do anything to endanger the baby. She doesn’t know you’re still alive.”
“That’s fine,” Ianto said, sagging in relief. “You’re right; I don’t want anything to happen to her and her baby.” He was somewhat surprised that Jack hadn’t stayed for her, but it confirmed to him that his instincts about hers and Jack’s relationship wasn’t what Gwen had thought it had been.
“Look,” Mickey said, glancing into the rearview mirror, “we need to dump this car soon. Ianto, mate, there’s a bag down on the floorboard back there. It contains clothes and an electric razor. You might wanna get changed and cleaned up as best you can. We don’t want to take any evidence with us when we switch cars.”
Ianto pushed back the sadness he was feeling over Jack’s horrific decisions and rooted around until he found the black gym bag. Opening it, he found everything Mickey had claimed, and he changed as best he could in the backseat. The trousers and shirt fit surprisingly well; they were a little big, but not that anyone would really notice. The underwear and shoes were spot on. “How did you know my sizes?” he asked as he buttoned the black shirt.
He couldn’t see Martha’s face - she’d turned around the moment Ianto had started stripping off the horrid orange jumpsuit in order to give him some privacy - but it was obvious she was embarrassed. “When the UNIT cap that Jack had me send him became a hit with you two, he asked me for a full uniform. I refused, but that didn’t stop him from sending me your sizes. I…never got the uniform, but I vaguely remembered what Jack told me.”
“I asked her the same question when we were at the store,” Mickey teased. “I didn’t want an excuse to be jealous.”
Ianto couldn’t help but smile; that was just so Jack. “So, what’s the plan after we dump this car?”
“We’ve rented a cottage up near Aberaeron,” Martha answered. “It’s not quite holiday season yet, but we told the estate agent that Mickey and I were honeymooners, and that we really wanted the privacy.”
“We might not technically be honeymooners anymore,” Mickey added, “but I like to think we’re still in that honeymoon period.”
Martha rolled her eyes. “After we get there, we lay low until we can either reach the Doctor or Jack. Whatever UNIT wanted you for, you know they’ll be looking for you. And we won’t let them get you without a fight.”
Ianto felt pathetically grateful for both Mickey and Martha, and for them coming to save himself and Ges’ryth. The last month or so had been bad; Dexter had stopped the experiments he’d been running on his regenerative properties, and they’d been left mostly alone. Both Ianto and Ges’ryth had doubted that they’d remain alive much longer, now that their usefulness had been at an end. Their transfer had been a sign of that, since Dexter hadn’t put up too much of a fight over it.
They had, however, had plenty of time for their blending to settle. Ianto had been surprised at just how well Ges’ryth’s mind meshed with his, and the Tok’ra had been very pleased that everything had gone well. She’d commented that, many times, forced blendings did not work - not that that wasn’t what the Goa’uld did; they simply overwhelmed their hosts and took what they wanted. Tok’ra preferred to ask for permission to blend, and usually knew who was going to be compatible with them.
“That’s something we’ll need to talk about when we get there,” Ianto replied. “I…have some ideas about that.”
“Good,” Martha said in relief, “because it’s going to be hard keeping you out of UNIT hands indefinitely. The best thing to do is get you off world.”
“You may never be able to return here while UNIT is after you,” the symbiote said apologetically.
Well, Ianto had always wanted to see other worlds anyway, but he couldn’t help but feel a sense of loss at being forced to leave his home planet.
**********
They switched cars in a parking lot in Orpington, which was in the opposite direction where Mickey intended to drive. The vehicle that was waiting for them was a late model Ford, and it was packed with everything they’d need for at least a couple of weeks by the seaside. Ianto took the back seat again, and curled up on it, the hard seat the most comfortable bed he’d had since his incarceration, even though he couldn’t stretch out.
He was exhausted, and it wasn’t until he could relax completely that his utter tiredness really hit him. Ianto could feel the same coming from Ges’ryth, and he could easily tell when she went to sleep, her mind a pleasant humming against his. He followed her quickly, and for one of the very few times in months his sleep was dreamless.
**********
Ianto awoke slowly, sunlight spattering against the far wall from the window that he’d been too tired to close when he’d stumbled to bed late last night. He squinted into it, realized that he hadn’t, in fact, seen the sunlight since he was supposed to have died, and practically jumped out of bed to look out the window.
The view of the ocean was spectacular.
“Your world is quite beautiful,” Ges’ryth said admiringly.
Ianto had to agree, and it especially looked wonderful now that he was free of UNIT. He only hoped they could stay that way until they could find a way off world.
“Quit being so gloomy! We’re on our way. With the help of your friends, I’m certain we can locate the people we need to aid in our escape.”
Her confidence was contagious. Ianto found himself smiling.
He had no idea how long he stood at the window, but the smell of coffee roused him from his appreciation of the outside world. Ianto gathered up some fresh clothes - Martha had gotten him several shirts and pairs of trousers and jeans, but no suits; that was actually fine with him, since Ianto no longer felt like Torchwood. He could be just plain Ianto Jones for a while…well, Ianto Jones with an alien symbiote in his head.
Shower first. Coffee second.
The shower felt heavenly. After seven months of being hosed down with cold water, this was the closest he’d been clean. The feel of the soap against his skin was almost orgasmic, and he wasn’t even going to get into what having clean hair meant.
Ianto found the razor and made a more thorough job of shaving; last night, without a mirror, he’d been hit or miss. The face in the mirror looked different to him; it was pale and thin, blue eyes appearing larger than he could remember. His hair fell in tangles to his shoulders, and he wondered if he could talk either Martha or Mickey into giving him a trim.
The cut on his cheek was gone; there wasn’t even a scar.
“Physical injuries are easier to heal than the biological weapon you were exposed to,” Ges’ryth answered. “It took no effort at all.”
Ianto nodded. That made sense.
With Ges’ryth coiled about his hind-brain like a contented cat, Ianto headed downstairs, following the smell of coffee and bacon, his stomach telling him it was way past time to eat. He was actually feeling human again; clean body, clean clothes…all he needed now was food, and the change back would be complete.
He found Martha sitting at the small kitchen table and nursing a coffee while Mickey bustled around the stove. Martha grinned as she saw him, getting up and giving him a hug. “I’m so glad you’re alive,” she murmured.
Ianto hugged her back. “So am I.” He pulled back, grinning. “Coffee?”
Martha laughed. “I should have known coffee would trump hugging.” She tugged him toward the table. “It’s not a patch on yours, but it’s got enough caffeine in it to get you going.”
“I have seen you think of coffee before,” Ges’ryth said mentally, “but I am waiting to taste it myself.”
“Better get it before it’s gone,” Mickey teased, turning from the stove and brandishing a spatula. “Breakfast is nearly done.”
“You’ll need to be careful,” Martha admonished, going into doctor mode. “I’m sure they haven’t been feeding you much.”
“True,” Ianto admitted, sitting at the table. He took the opportunity to look around; the holiday cottage’s kitchen was tiny, but clean. It had been stocked with basic amenities, and the appliances were a bit out of date, but it was cozy and considerably above Ianto’s last abode.
Martha set a mug down in front of him, and Ianto practically buried his face in it, inhaling the rich aroma as if he had to breathe it to survive. “That smells divine,” Ges’ryth said appreciatively as her host raised the mug to his lips.
It might not have been up to the par of Ianto’s personal blend, but he couldn’t help the sigh that escaped his lips after his first sip in months.
“That is lovely,” Ges’ryth agreed. “A bit overpowering, but your endorphins have just risen to levels higher than I have ever felt. I think we need some of this on the Tok’ra homeworld.”
The breakfast - eggs, bacon, and toast - went down well with the coffee, and Ianto felt he couldn’t have tasted anything better. As he savored his first real food since Thames House, he considered his next move…specifically, just how he was going to break the news to his friends that he wasn’t exactly alone in his own body anymore.
“That is a dilemma,” the symbiote replied. “I do see that you trust them.”
Ianto did, at that. Martha was a friend…not close, but she knew Jack, and Jack had trusted her implicitly. His former lover had talked about the Year that Never Was, and Ianto was well aware of what Martha had done. He shared the story with Ges’ryth, who agreed that Martha most definitely could be counted on.
As for Mickey…Jack had been trying very hard to recruit him to Torchwood, and he’d travelled with the Doctor. Jack had also trusted him as well, and if there was one thing Ianto could say was that he himself had trusted Jack, despite the secrets. But then, everyone had secrets, and Ianto hadn’t ever wanted to pry. He looked back on his behaviour when he’d found out that Jack had a daughter, and was ashamed of it. Ianto had prided himself on his ability to accept Jack for who he was, and he’d failed in that one moment.
“You cannot tear yourself apart over a mistake of the past.” Ges’ryth pointed out. “That way lies self-destruction.”
The symbiote had a point.
“Besides,” she said cheerfully, “when we find your loved one, you can have fantastic make-up sex.”
Ianto choked on his eggs, causing both Mickey and Martha to look at him oddly.
“I cannot pretend to understand this form of procreation,” she went on. “However, it appears to be very pleasurable -“
He made a little squeak as he tried to clear his airway. Mickey slapped him on the back, while Martha looked more and more alarmed. Ianto hoped that the redness in his face would be put down to not being able to breathe, instead of embarrassment.
“Have I embarrassed you?” Ges’ryth asked innocently. “I do apologize, my friend.”
The symbiote didn’t sound very apologetic.
“I’m all right,” he tried to reassure his human friends, while growling inwardly at his Tok’ra one.
“Take a drink,” Martha urged, handing him his cup of coffee. Ianto did so, and it helped immensely. “When you feel up to it, maybe you can tell us how you came to be alive when everyone thought you were dead, and how you ended up in UNIT custody.”
Ianto leaned back in his chair, the rest of his breakfast forgotten. He wondered just how they were going to react, and realized it most likely wouldn’t be as bad as he was anticipating. Or it could be a disaster.
“Simply be honest. They will understand.”
“I don’t honestly know how I survived the virus let loose in Thames House,” he began. “Neither does UNIT. But somehow I did, but I was very close to death when they did notice.”
“How did they cure you?” Martha asked, intrigued.
“They didn’t.”
“But how…?” The doctor in Martha was coming to the fore once more.
Ianto sighed. “That’s where things get…strange. I don’t know how long ago it was, but there was an alien spacecraft that had been pulled through the Rift and crashed, and UNIT did the clean-up. Inside, they found a member of an alien race known as the Tok’ra.”
Obviously neither Martha nor Mickey recognized the name, and Ianto continued. “The Tok’ra are a symbiotic race, and by the time UNIT had arrived her host was critically injured, with no hope for survival. UNIT forcibly removed the symbiote and took her prisoner.”
Understanding was blooming in Martha’s eyes. “They put this alien inside you?”
“They did. Part of the benefit to a host to have a symbiote is pretty miraculous healing. It was touch and go, but she was able to pull me through.”
He could feel Ges’ryth’s support warming him, as he watched as the ramifications of what he’d just said made their way through his two friends. Martha seemed a combination of appalled and curious, while Mickey was nodding. “This symbiote…it’s still in you?” he asked.
“She is,” Ianto confirmed. He eyed Mickey warily, knowing there was a rather large gun somewhere in the cabin, although he seemed to be taking it very well. There was still a chance this could all blow up on them, and he knew he’d do his best to protect himself and Ges’ryth if fireworks started. “Would you like to meet her?”
Martha’s eyes went wide. “It’s intelligent?”
“Yes, she is,” Ianto answered, getting a bit irritated at their continuing to refer to Ges’ryth as ‘it’. Yes, he could understand it; they didn’t know about the Tok’ra, so it made some sense, but once he’d assigned a gender to his symbiote, they should have been referring to her that way. But he’d expected Martha to be different, what with her exposure to the Doctor and of the Time Lord’s love of all things alien.
“Your symbiote?” Ges’ryth’s mental voice was amused, and yet she’d begun radiating happiness at his acceptance.
Of course she was his.
“We had never discussed our blending beyond our arrival on the Tok’ra homeworld. It would be an honour if you would consider taking our partnership into the future.”
Ianto hadn’t given it much thought; however he was beginning to wonder if he could really let them remove Ges’ryth without a fight. She was his friend, and Ianto didn’t want to lose that.
Ges’ryth’s mental presence warmed, and she gave him the mental version of a hug. “You are my friend as well, Ianto Jones. I can’t see myself blended with anyone else. Now, allow me to prove to your other friends that I am worthy of being your symbiote.”
Ianto lowered his head, hiding his eyes; he’d learned from Ges’ryth that the Tok’ra did that in order to obscure their glowing eyes. Most who knew of the Tok’ra and their connection to the Goa’uld were often uncomfortable with seeing the switchover from host to symbiote, and the Tok’ra were polite enough to want to avoid any discomfort among potential allies. Although, according to Ges’ryth, that didn’t stop the majority of them from being pompous, entitled twits.
He could feel her sliding easily into control. As the blending had settled, the disconnect that Ianto had once felt no longer as sharp; in fact, the transfer had become rather seamless. He no longer felt as if he was giving up a part of himself to her, and he trusted her implicitly to return his body to him when she was finished, or when he asked her to.
“Greetings,” she said through his mouth, the strange atonal thrumming that identified her as Tok’ra underlying his own voice. “I am Ges’ryth of Palidor. It is a pleasure to meet the friends of Ianto Jones, although I could wish it was under different circumstances. Ianto thinks very highly of you.”
Chapter Four
Jack’s not on the planet anymore.
He could feel Ges’ryth curling around his mind in a mental hug, trying to comfort him. He silently thanked her, then asked Martha, “What happened?” He simply couldn’t conceive Jack leaving the Earth, not when he was still needed.
“His losses just got too much for him,” Martha explained from the front seat. “Losing you was bad enough…but the price he had to pay to defeat the 456 just about broke him.”
“What do you mean?” Ianto was afraid to hear her answer, but he needed to know.
“He…the 456 were emitting a signal that they discovered could be sent back to them and used to destroy them. The only thing was…” she paused, nibbling her lower lip, “a child had to be sacrificed to send the signal. Jack…had to use the only child he had, which was his grandson.”
“He…” Ianto swallowed hard. Poor Jack, having no choice but to use his on grandson in order to save the world’s children…
“Your loved one has suffered much,” Ges’ryth murmured, and he could feel her own disbelief and pain in the mental caress. “I find I cannot blame him for wanting to leave the place of so much loss.”
Ianto couldn’t really, either, although he hated the idea of Jack out there, somewhere, alone with his guilt and pain.
“We shall find him,” Ges’ryth promised fiercely. “The Tok’ra have many resources, as do the Tauri of the SGC. We will find your loved one and get him back to you.”
He hoped it would be that easy.
“What about Gwen?” he asked, hoping his last connection to Torchwood was safe.
“She’s fine,” Martha answered. “She and Rhys have gone to ground, which is one of the reasons they aren’t here with us. The other being that she’s pregnant, and I won’t do anything to endanger the baby. She doesn’t know you’re still alive.”
“That’s fine,” Ianto said, sagging in relief. “You’re right; I don’t want anything to happen to her and her baby.” He was somewhat surprised that Jack hadn’t stayed for her, but it confirmed to him that his instincts about hers and Jack’s relationship wasn’t what Gwen had thought it had been.
“Look,” Mickey said, glancing into the rearview mirror, “we need to dump this car soon. Ianto, mate, there’s a bag down on the floorboard back there. It contains clothes and an electric razor. You might wanna get changed and cleaned up as best you can. We don’t want to take any evidence with us when we switch cars.”
Ianto pushed back the sadness he was feeling over Jack’s horrific decisions and rooted around until he found the black gym bag. Opening it, he found everything Mickey had claimed, and he changed as best he could in the backseat. The trousers and shirt fit surprisingly well; they were a little big, but not that anyone would really notice. The underwear and shoes were spot on. “How did you know my sizes?” he asked as he buttoned the black shirt.
He couldn’t see Martha’s face - she’d turned around the moment Ianto had started stripping off the horrid orange jumpsuit in order to give him some privacy - but it was obvious she was embarrassed. “When the UNIT cap that Jack had me send him became a hit with you two, he asked me for a full uniform. I refused, but that didn’t stop him from sending me your sizes. I…never got the uniform, but I vaguely remembered what Jack told me.”
“I asked her the same question when we were at the store,” Mickey teased. “I didn’t want an excuse to be jealous.”
Ianto couldn’t help but smile; that was just so Jack. “So, what’s the plan after we dump this car?”
“We’ve rented a cottage up near Aberaeron,” Martha answered. “It’s not quite holiday season yet, but we told the estate agent that Mickey and I were honeymooners, and that we really wanted the privacy.”
“We might not technically be honeymooners anymore,” Mickey added, “but I like to think we’re still in that honeymoon period.”
Martha rolled her eyes. “After we get there, we lay low until we can either reach the Doctor or Jack. Whatever UNIT wanted you for, you know they’ll be looking for you. And we won’t let them get you without a fight.”
Ianto felt pathetically grateful for both Mickey and Martha, and for them coming to save himself and Ges’ryth. The last month or so had been bad; Dexter had stopped the experiments he’d been running on his regenerative properties, and they’d been left mostly alone. Both Ianto and Ges’ryth had doubted that they’d remain alive much longer, now that their usefulness had been at an end. Their transfer had been a sign of that, since Dexter hadn’t put up too much of a fight over it.
They had, however, had plenty of time for their blending to settle. Ianto had been surprised at just how well Ges’ryth’s mind meshed with his, and the Tok’ra had been very pleased that everything had gone well. She’d commented that, many times, forced blendings did not work - not that that wasn’t what the Goa’uld did; they simply overwhelmed their hosts and took what they wanted. Tok’ra preferred to ask for permission to blend, and usually knew who was going to be compatible with them.
“That’s something we’ll need to talk about when we get there,” Ianto replied. “I…have some ideas about that.”
“Good,” Martha said in relief, “because it’s going to be hard keeping you out of UNIT hands indefinitely. The best thing to do is get you off world.”
“You may never be able to return here while UNIT is after you,” the symbiote said apologetically.
Well, Ianto had always wanted to see other worlds anyway, but he couldn’t help but feel a sense of loss at being forced to leave his home planet.
**********
They switched cars in a parking lot in Orpington, which was in the opposite direction where Mickey intended to drive. The vehicle that was waiting for them was a late model Ford, and it was packed with everything they’d need for at least a couple of weeks by the seaside. Ianto took the back seat again, and curled up on it, the hard seat the most comfortable bed he’d had since his incarceration, even though he couldn’t stretch out.
He was exhausted, and it wasn’t until he could relax completely that his utter tiredness really hit him. Ianto could feel the same coming from Ges’ryth, and he could easily tell when she went to sleep, her mind a pleasant humming against his. He followed her quickly, and for one of the very few times in months his sleep was dreamless.
**********
Ianto awoke slowly, sunlight spattering against the far wall from the window that he’d been too tired to close when he’d stumbled to bed late last night. He squinted into it, realized that he hadn’t, in fact, seen the sunlight since he was supposed to have died, and practically jumped out of bed to look out the window.
The view of the ocean was spectacular.
“Your world is quite beautiful,” Ges’ryth said admiringly.
Ianto had to agree, and it especially looked wonderful now that he was free of UNIT. He only hoped they could stay that way until they could find a way off world.
“Quit being so gloomy! We’re on our way. With the help of your friends, I’m certain we can locate the people we need to aid in our escape.”
Her confidence was contagious. Ianto found himself smiling.
He had no idea how long he stood at the window, but the smell of coffee roused him from his appreciation of the outside world. Ianto gathered up some fresh clothes - Martha had gotten him several shirts and pairs of trousers and jeans, but no suits; that was actually fine with him, since Ianto no longer felt like Torchwood. He could be just plain Ianto Jones for a while…well, Ianto Jones with an alien symbiote in his head.
Shower first. Coffee second.
The shower felt heavenly. After seven months of being hosed down with cold water, this was the closest he’d been clean. The feel of the soap against his skin was almost orgasmic, and he wasn’t even going to get into what having clean hair meant.
Ianto found the razor and made a more thorough job of shaving; last night, without a mirror, he’d been hit or miss. The face in the mirror looked different to him; it was pale and thin, blue eyes appearing larger than he could remember. His hair fell in tangles to his shoulders, and he wondered if he could talk either Martha or Mickey into giving him a trim.
The cut on his cheek was gone; there wasn’t even a scar.
“Physical injuries are easier to heal than the biological weapon you were exposed to,” Ges’ryth answered. “It took no effort at all.”
Ianto nodded. That made sense.
With Ges’ryth coiled about his hind-brain like a contented cat, Ianto headed downstairs, following the smell of coffee and bacon, his stomach telling him it was way past time to eat. He was actually feeling human again; clean body, clean clothes…all he needed now was food, and the change back would be complete.
He found Martha sitting at the small kitchen table and nursing a coffee while Mickey bustled around the stove. Martha grinned as she saw him, getting up and giving him a hug. “I’m so glad you’re alive,” she murmured.
Ianto hugged her back. “So am I.” He pulled back, grinning. “Coffee?”
Martha laughed. “I should have known coffee would trump hugging.” She tugged him toward the table. “It’s not a patch on yours, but it’s got enough caffeine in it to get you going.”
“I have seen you think of coffee before,” Ges’ryth said mentally, “but I am waiting to taste it myself.”
“Better get it before it’s gone,” Mickey teased, turning from the stove and brandishing a spatula. “Breakfast is nearly done.”
“You’ll need to be careful,” Martha admonished, going into doctor mode. “I’m sure they haven’t been feeding you much.”
“True,” Ianto admitted, sitting at the table. He took the opportunity to look around; the holiday cottage’s kitchen was tiny, but clean. It had been stocked with basic amenities, and the appliances were a bit out of date, but it was cozy and considerably above Ianto’s last abode.
Martha set a mug down in front of him, and Ianto practically buried his face in it, inhaling the rich aroma as if he had to breathe it to survive. “That smells divine,” Ges’ryth said appreciatively as her host raised the mug to his lips.
It might not have been up to the par of Ianto’s personal blend, but he couldn’t help the sigh that escaped his lips after his first sip in months.
“That is lovely,” Ges’ryth agreed. “A bit overpowering, but your endorphins have just risen to levels higher than I have ever felt. I think we need some of this on the Tok’ra homeworld.”
The breakfast - eggs, bacon, and toast - went down well with the coffee, and Ianto felt he couldn’t have tasted anything better. As he savored his first real food since Thames House, he considered his next move…specifically, just how he was going to break the news to his friends that he wasn’t exactly alone in his own body anymore.
“That is a dilemma,” the symbiote replied. “I do see that you trust them.”
Ianto did, at that. Martha was a friend…not close, but she knew Jack, and Jack had trusted her implicitly. His former lover had talked about the Year that Never Was, and Ianto was well aware of what Martha had done. He shared the story with Ges’ryth, who agreed that Martha most definitely could be counted on.
As for Mickey…Jack had been trying very hard to recruit him to Torchwood, and he’d travelled with the Doctor. Jack had also trusted him as well, and if there was one thing Ianto could say was that he himself had trusted Jack, despite the secrets. But then, everyone had secrets, and Ianto hadn’t ever wanted to pry. He looked back on his behaviour when he’d found out that Jack had a daughter, and was ashamed of it. Ianto had prided himself on his ability to accept Jack for who he was, and he’d failed in that one moment.
“You cannot tear yourself apart over a mistake of the past.” Ges’ryth pointed out. “That way lies self-destruction.”
The symbiote had a point.
“Besides,” she said cheerfully, “when we find your loved one, you can have fantastic make-up sex.”
Ianto choked on his eggs, causing both Mickey and Martha to look at him oddly.
“I cannot pretend to understand this form of procreation,” she went on. “However, it appears to be very pleasurable -“
He made a little squeak as he tried to clear his airway. Mickey slapped him on the back, while Martha looked more and more alarmed. Ianto hoped that the redness in his face would be put down to not being able to breathe, instead of embarrassment.
“Have I embarrassed you?” Ges’ryth asked innocently. “I do apologize, my friend.”
The symbiote didn’t sound very apologetic.
“I’m all right,” he tried to reassure his human friends, while growling inwardly at his Tok’ra one.
“Take a drink,” Martha urged, handing him his cup of coffee. Ianto did so, and it helped immensely. “When you feel up to it, maybe you can tell us how you came to be alive when everyone thought you were dead, and how you ended up in UNIT custody.”
Ianto leaned back in his chair, the rest of his breakfast forgotten. He wondered just how they were going to react, and realized it most likely wouldn’t be as bad as he was anticipating. Or it could be a disaster.
“Simply be honest. They will understand.”
“I don’t honestly know how I survived the virus let loose in Thames House,” he began. “Neither does UNIT. But somehow I did, but I was very close to death when they did notice.”
“How did they cure you?” Martha asked, intrigued.
“They didn’t.”
“But how…?” The doctor in Martha was coming to the fore once more.
Ianto sighed. “That’s where things get…strange. I don’t know how long ago it was, but there was an alien spacecraft that had been pulled through the Rift and crashed, and UNIT did the clean-up. Inside, they found a member of an alien race known as the Tok’ra.”
Obviously neither Martha nor Mickey recognized the name, and Ianto continued. “The Tok’ra are a symbiotic race, and by the time UNIT had arrived her host was critically injured, with no hope for survival. UNIT forcibly removed the symbiote and took her prisoner.”
Understanding was blooming in Martha’s eyes. “They put this alien inside you?”
“They did. Part of the benefit to a host to have a symbiote is pretty miraculous healing. It was touch and go, but she was able to pull me through.”
He could feel Ges’ryth’s support warming him, as he watched as the ramifications of what he’d just said made their way through his two friends. Martha seemed a combination of appalled and curious, while Mickey was nodding. “This symbiote…it’s still in you?” he asked.
“She is,” Ianto confirmed. He eyed Mickey warily, knowing there was a rather large gun somewhere in the cabin, although he seemed to be taking it very well. There was still a chance this could all blow up on them, and he knew he’d do his best to protect himself and Ges’ryth if fireworks started. “Would you like to meet her?”
Martha’s eyes went wide. “It’s intelligent?”
“Yes, she is,” Ianto answered, getting a bit irritated at their continuing to refer to Ges’ryth as ‘it’. Yes, he could understand it; they didn’t know about the Tok’ra, so it made some sense, but once he’d assigned a gender to his symbiote, they should have been referring to her that way. But he’d expected Martha to be different, what with her exposure to the Doctor and of the Time Lord’s love of all things alien.
“Your symbiote?” Ges’ryth’s mental voice was amused, and yet she’d begun radiating happiness at his acceptance.
Of course she was his.
“We had never discussed our blending beyond our arrival on the Tok’ra homeworld. It would be an honour if you would consider taking our partnership into the future.”
Ianto hadn’t given it much thought; however he was beginning to wonder if he could really let them remove Ges’ryth without a fight. She was his friend, and Ianto didn’t want to lose that.
Ges’ryth’s mental presence warmed, and she gave him the mental version of a hug. “You are my friend as well, Ianto Jones. I can’t see myself blended with anyone else. Now, allow me to prove to your other friends that I am worthy of being your symbiote.”
Ianto lowered his head, hiding his eyes; he’d learned from Ges’ryth that the Tok’ra did that in order to obscure their glowing eyes. Most who knew of the Tok’ra and their connection to the Goa’uld were often uncomfortable with seeing the switchover from host to symbiote, and the Tok’ra were polite enough to want to avoid any discomfort among potential allies. Although, according to Ges’ryth, that didn’t stop the majority of them from being pompous, entitled twits.
He could feel her sliding easily into control. As the blending had settled, the disconnect that Ianto had once felt no longer as sharp; in fact, the transfer had become rather seamless. He no longer felt as if he was giving up a part of himself to her, and he trusted her implicitly to return his body to him when she was finished, or when he asked her to.
“Greetings,” she said through his mouth, the strange atonal thrumming that identified her as Tok’ra underlying his own voice. “I am Ges’ryth of Palidor. It is a pleasure to meet the friends of Ianto Jones, although I could wish it was under different circumstances. Ianto thinks very highly of you.”
Chapter Four