Upheavel by faded_memories
Mar. 22nd, 2008 10:52 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
xbeax.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
janto_recsTitle: Upheaval
Author:![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
faded_memories
Genre: General, Ianto-centric
Rating: PG13
Summary: Ianto's found the opportunity of a lifetime, so long as he and the team can do something about that whole "end of the world" thing. At least Jack's got a great sense of timing. A post-1x13 - End of Days story.
Status: Complete
Length: 12 Chapters, 27, 000
Warnings: AU, Post-End of Days, pre-season 2
Comment or Excerpt from fic: Now this fic has what I like looking for in a good Jack/Ianto fic. Like the author says, "This story contains 0% of your dailyunrecommended servings of Ianto Jones emoness. At no time does he rant, rave, or cry on Gwen's shoulder because Jack has abandoned him, damn it, and now he can't find the will to carry on. This story also includes no instances of Jack Harkness begging for forgiveness, and/or telling Ianto he loves him and/or that Ianto is the only reason he came back." It's very In character and it's more general rather than Jack/Ianto, but it's there. :3 Intriguing Plot, and great angry!Ianto characterization who doesn't take Jack's BS.
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Author:
faded_memoriesGenre: General, Ianto-centric
Rating: PG13
Summary: Ianto's found the opportunity of a lifetime, so long as he and the team can do something about that whole "end of the world" thing. At least Jack's got a great sense of timing. A post-1x13 - End of Days story.
Status: Complete
Length: 12 Chapters, 27, 000
Warnings: AU, Post-End of Days, pre-season 2
Comment or Excerpt from fic: Now this fic has what I like looking for in a good Jack/Ianto fic. Like the author says, "This story contains 0% of your daily
~_~_~_~
It was an act, Ianto was pretty sure of that. His time at Torchwood entailed a lot of watching and cataloguing of information and, though it was impossible to truly know Jack Harkness, Ianto had at least developed a good impression of the man. That man was smart, observant, and there was no way that Jack could honestly believe that his sweet little smile and big, innocent eyes would distract Owen.
Hell, it wouldn’t have even distracted Ianto back when they were still… whatever they were to each other. Lovers, he supposed he should call it, though the word evoked unwanted images of warm, sweaty skin and long, deep kisses. It was easier to be angry when he thought about the time that came after all of that: of six months of worry and fear. No, it would most definitely not be smoothed over with a smile and an “I missed you.”
“Ianto?” Jack asked, turning back to look at him curiously. Ianto realised that he’d given too much away and schooled his features into a blank mask as he looked back impassively, taking a moment to catalogue the man in front of him, searching for changes, no matter how minute they might have been.
It was the same Jack, there was no question about it. The same man, with the same dark eyes, wicked and mischievous; the same mouth, full and promising; and the same strong, playful hands. He was even wearing the same clothes. There was nothing to show that the last six months had even happened, or that anything had differed in his absence. It wasn’t fair that they should be the only ones changed.
Six months he’d been gone, apparently of his own free will. Six months they’d been left behind, afraid that something terrible had happened. It made Ianto angry. Still, anger was easier to deal with than some of the other emotions he’d gone through in the moment he’d looked up to see Jack standing in the doorway.
Jack was still waiting for some sort of response. Ianto saw a tinge of uncertainty creep into Jack’s eyes at his silence, but he couldn’t find it in himself to alleviate it. Not yet, not while he still felt so raw. Not in front of Owen.
Hell, it wouldn’t have even distracted Ianto back when they were still… whatever they were to each other. Lovers, he supposed he should call it, though the word evoked unwanted images of warm, sweaty skin and long, deep kisses. It was easier to be angry when he thought about the time that came after all of that: of six months of worry and fear. No, it would most definitely not be smoothed over with a smile and an “I missed you.”
“Ianto?” Jack asked, turning back to look at him curiously. Ianto realised that he’d given too much away and schooled his features into a blank mask as he looked back impassively, taking a moment to catalogue the man in front of him, searching for changes, no matter how minute they might have been.
It was the same Jack, there was no question about it. The same man, with the same dark eyes, wicked and mischievous; the same mouth, full and promising; and the same strong, playful hands. He was even wearing the same clothes. There was nothing to show that the last six months had even happened, or that anything had differed in his absence. It wasn’t fair that they should be the only ones changed.
Six months he’d been gone, apparently of his own free will. Six months they’d been left behind, afraid that something terrible had happened. It made Ianto angry. Still, anger was easier to deal with than some of the other emotions he’d gone through in the moment he’d looked up to see Jack standing in the doorway.
Jack was still waiting for some sort of response. Ianto saw a tinge of uncertainty creep into Jack’s eyes at his silence, but he couldn’t find it in himself to alleviate it. Not yet, not while he still felt so raw. Not in front of Owen.