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remindmeofthe) wrote2008-03-25 12:10 am
remindmeofthe) wrote2008-03-25 12:10 am
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Since so many of my Torchwood drabbles have been set in this 'verse, I thought it would be easiest to put them all together in one post in case anyone who is not me wants to refer to them. This 'verse may turn into a fic of its own; I've got plenty of ideas for it that won't fit the drabble format. If I do write it, I don't know if everything in the drabbles will end up in the fic. At this point, I'm exploring and trying things out.
Drabbles are in chronological order within the 'verse (yeah, it's a time travel 'verse, but there's chronology if I say there is!) rather than in order written. Oh, plus, the first drabble is in past tense and the rest in present. A tip for drabble writing: present tense can save you a precious word or two just 'cause you don't have to use extra verbs. Apparently, I forgot this for like a day.
Spoilers for Torchwood 1x04, 2x06-2x08; Doctor Who 3x12-3x13.
Getting bounced into the recent past was - pointless, at best. At least Owen had worked it out before running into himself. Or Jack (especially Jack), or anyone, really, except Ianto. Ianto was sensible. He understood that the less he knew about even the near future, the better. He didn't ask why Owen didn't eat, or why Owen was perfectly comfortable in the depths of Torchwood without even a bed.
He didn't ask why, when he found Owen emerging from Lisa's hidden room, Owen just squeezed his shoulder and said, "This fuckin' place, yeah?" and kept walking.
*
Owen is absolutely fucking floored when Ianto comes down to check on him after Lisa's rampage. He wouldn't have thought himself to really rate on Ianto's current list of priorities.
The sheer relief on Ianto's face when he sees Owen explains everything, though. "Thank god," he breathes, touching Owen's arm like he's making sure that Owen is really there. Owen looks at the blood on Ianto's suit and the tear tracks on his face and wonders where he ever got off thinking that Ianto had gotten away with something.
*
Owen doesn't see much of Ianto in the days after Lisa, which works for him. It's eerily quiet and every second of repeated time hangs heavily with only books for company, but Ianto's still under suspicion. Can't have Jack noticing his continuing trips down below the surface and following him. Owen isn't really sure of exactly what the consequences of a time paradox would be, but he knows for a fact that he'll find out in a hurry if Jack finds him and gets close enough to realize that he's a - changed man.
*
Sense of touch is the only one of the five Owen's lacking. So he can't feel Ianto's lips crashing onto his with desperate force, but he can taste it. Can taste Ianto, coffee and salt and lingering traces of blood courtesy of those cannibals Owen's invested countless ounces of tequila in trying to forget.
The taste is gone almost before it's there, though, Ianto jerking back and staring. "You're cold."
Fuck. "Wouldn't kill you lot to turn the heat up down here," Owen tries.
Ianto steps back, giving him a long, unreadable look, then nods once. "I'll see to it."
*
As she screams, something pops in the back of her mind and memories rush forward. Fighting for control and men reduced to ash and -
people, who knew what was happening and stopped it.
The Plass. She'll find them there and they'll stop this, too.
Carys gets almost to the fountain before one of the spheres dives down and gashes her side open. She stumbles and is caught by a man she hadn't seen, standing in front of the fountain. She looks up into his pale face, and sees shock there even greater than her own.
*
There's a doctor in Cardiff, if you can get to him. If you can get through the rubble and escape the notice of the Toclafane. If you can find the people who know him, who can get you there. His practice is underground, filled with things that would have seemed impossible six months ago. He takes care of Cardiff, and he knows Martha Jones. His hands are cold and his face pale and he never smiles, but he will tell you if you ask, about Martha and her Doctor. And he will promise you that they will fix everything.
*
The Himalayas prove themselves utterly mundane and devoid of anything alien. On returning, Ianto immediately goes to see Owen. A week in such close quarters with the current day's Owen has him longing for his Owen's calmer, less abrasive personality.
Owen's eyes go wide when he sees Ianto. Next thing Ianto knows, he's being hugged too hard, then held at arm's length while Owen stares at him as though he'll disappear if Owen looks away.
"We weren't gone that long," he manages, inanely.
"A week, yeah?"
"A week," Ianto confirms, and Owen smiles.
*
There's something Owen isn't saying.
That's fine by Jack. He hardly expects every detail from Owen about that trip into the past. He'll get most of it from Ianto eventually, anyway. But this one isn't about disclosure. This is something Owen needs to let go.
Jack dredges up old Time Agent training, time travel and temporal anomalies, and there. He knows what it is.
Oh god, Owen.
He looks into Owen's eyes and says,
"Toclafane."
Owen goes very still, and Jack finds too late that he doesn't want to hear it.
**********
[Note: This drabble is not part of the fic's canon. It's just a bit of self-indulgent silliness, taking place at some vague point after Owen catches back up with the timeline.]
Owen sits with a gasp, wide-eyed. The others stare, then Ianto races over to kneel next to him.
"Owen?"
Owen grins, breathes deep, and kisses him hard.
It's like kissing Owen for the first time - his mouth is warm and wet, and when Ianto curves a hand around his neck, he can feel the pulse against his palm.
They break apart to find the others staring even harder. Gwen and Tosh are gaping; Jack, conversely, looks simultaneously confused and interested.
"Sorry, Harkness," Owen growls. "No threesomes till I've fucked him properly."
Jack considers, then shrugs. "Fair enough."
Drabbles are in chronological order within the 'verse (yeah, it's a time travel 'verse, but there's chronology if I say there is!) rather than in order written. Oh, plus, the first drabble is in past tense and the rest in present. A tip for drabble writing: present tense can save you a precious word or two just 'cause you don't have to use extra verbs. Apparently, I forgot this for like a day.
Spoilers for Torchwood 1x04, 2x06-2x08; Doctor Who 3x12-3x13.
Getting bounced into the recent past was - pointless, at best. At least Owen had worked it out before running into himself. Or Jack (especially Jack), or anyone, really, except Ianto. Ianto was sensible. He understood that the less he knew about even the near future, the better. He didn't ask why Owen didn't eat, or why Owen was perfectly comfortable in the depths of Torchwood without even a bed.
He didn't ask why, when he found Owen emerging from Lisa's hidden room, Owen just squeezed his shoulder and said, "This fuckin' place, yeah?" and kept walking.
*
Owen is absolutely fucking floored when Ianto comes down to check on him after Lisa's rampage. He wouldn't have thought himself to really rate on Ianto's current list of priorities.
The sheer relief on Ianto's face when he sees Owen explains everything, though. "Thank god," he breathes, touching Owen's arm like he's making sure that Owen is really there. Owen looks at the blood on Ianto's suit and the tear tracks on his face and wonders where he ever got off thinking that Ianto had gotten away with something.
*
Owen doesn't see much of Ianto in the days after Lisa, which works for him. It's eerily quiet and every second of repeated time hangs heavily with only books for company, but Ianto's still under suspicion. Can't have Jack noticing his continuing trips down below the surface and following him. Owen isn't really sure of exactly what the consequences of a time paradox would be, but he knows for a fact that he'll find out in a hurry if Jack finds him and gets close enough to realize that he's a - changed man.
*
Sense of touch is the only one of the five Owen's lacking. So he can't feel Ianto's lips crashing onto his with desperate force, but he can taste it. Can taste Ianto, coffee and salt and lingering traces of blood courtesy of those cannibals Owen's invested countless ounces of tequila in trying to forget.
The taste is gone almost before it's there, though, Ianto jerking back and staring. "You're cold."
Fuck. "Wouldn't kill you lot to turn the heat up down here," Owen tries.
Ianto steps back, giving him a long, unreadable look, then nods once. "I'll see to it."
*
As she screams, something pops in the back of her mind and memories rush forward. Fighting for control and men reduced to ash and -
people, who knew what was happening and stopped it.
The Plass. She'll find them there and they'll stop this, too.
Carys gets almost to the fountain before one of the spheres dives down and gashes her side open. She stumbles and is caught by a man she hadn't seen, standing in front of the fountain. She looks up into his pale face, and sees shock there even greater than her own.
*
There's a doctor in Cardiff, if you can get to him. If you can get through the rubble and escape the notice of the Toclafane. If you can find the people who know him, who can get you there. His practice is underground, filled with things that would have seemed impossible six months ago. He takes care of Cardiff, and he knows Martha Jones. His hands are cold and his face pale and he never smiles, but he will tell you if you ask, about Martha and her Doctor. And he will promise you that they will fix everything.
*
The Himalayas prove themselves utterly mundane and devoid of anything alien. On returning, Ianto immediately goes to see Owen. A week in such close quarters with the current day's Owen has him longing for his Owen's calmer, less abrasive personality.
Owen's eyes go wide when he sees Ianto. Next thing Ianto knows, he's being hugged too hard, then held at arm's length while Owen stares at him as though he'll disappear if Owen looks away.
"We weren't gone that long," he manages, inanely.
"A week, yeah?"
"A week," Ianto confirms, and Owen smiles.
*
There's something Owen isn't saying.
That's fine by Jack. He hardly expects every detail from Owen about that trip into the past. He'll get most of it from Ianto eventually, anyway. But this one isn't about disclosure. This is something Owen needs to let go.
Jack dredges up old Time Agent training, time travel and temporal anomalies, and there. He knows what it is.
Oh god, Owen.
He looks into Owen's eyes and says,
"Toclafane."
Owen goes very still, and Jack finds too late that he doesn't want to hear it.
**********
[Note: This drabble is not part of the fic's canon. It's just a bit of self-indulgent silliness, taking place at some vague point after Owen catches back up with the timeline.]
Owen sits with a gasp, wide-eyed. The others stare, then Ianto races over to kneel next to him.
"Owen?"
Owen grins, breathes deep, and kisses him hard.
It's like kissing Owen for the first time - his mouth is warm and wet, and when Ianto curves a hand around his neck, he can feel the pulse against his palm.
They break apart to find the others staring even harder. Gwen and Tosh are gaping; Jack, conversely, looks simultaneously confused and interested.
"Sorry, Harkness," Owen growls. "No threesomes till I've fucked him properly."
Jack considers, then shrugs. "Fair enough."