teachfic | UnAcceptable Surprises (2/7)

Chapter 2

May 2983 (Old Earth Calendar)

The months following Jack’s message were difficult ones for Ianto. It wasn’t the idea of Jack being with someone else – they’d both had other relationships and partners during their periodic separations. Rather, it was Jack breaking plans they had made so casually and for someone else. In their long sometimes twisted relationship, Jack had never broken a serious promise to Ianto until now.

Ianto ignored repeated calls and videos from his former partner and from the Doctor – except to send terse replies that he was fine and that neither of them should just ‘show up,’ although he doubted Jack would. As time went by, Ianto became increasingly convinced that the inevitable had happened – Jack had grown weary of their long association and was trying to find as kind of a way as possible to end it.

Even though he tried to continue his normal routine and even to meet people – or just one person that sparked his interest - his heart was not in it. He had friends, and he’d had relationships since separating from Jack, but he’d gradually stopped pursuing serious romantic commitments as his birthday drew closer. Subconsciously, he knew he was anticipating seeing Jack again. Now, that part of his life was on hold and he wasn’t sure what to do about it.

He was seriously considering leaving Newydd Cymru for another place – or even another time. He’d begun to realise that if he was facing a life without Jack – not just a mortal lifetime – then he needed to create an existence for himself far from any reminders. At some point, he’d have to talk to Jack about the compound. Maybe the Captain would want to live there with his new partner. The idea broke his heart, but the home they’d built was meant for a family, and Ianto could not envision having that anytime soon – if ever again.

At the end of another long, tedious day about two months after Jack’s message, Jessa entered his office with a gentle knock. Normally, her pale green eyes – a colour that was not quite human – sparkled with life and mischief. Now, they were just confused and a bit concerned. “I know you don’t take unscheduled patients or visitors, Dr. Jones, but there’s an older gentleman in the reception area. Before you ask, it’s not Captain Harkness or the Doctor. I’d recognize them from the pictures you showed me, and I would have had them escorted out by security after I gave them a piece of my mind. This man’s different. He’s much more mature looking- and acting if your descriptions are anything to go on. He’s been very persistent about seeing you, and he had this.” She handed him a piece of paper with the Torchwood logo. “It appears to be blank.”

“That’s because it’s psychic paper,” Ianto told her, laughing at her protective streak. It reminded him of Tosh, which was one of the reasons he’d hired her and shared his secrets with her. She was one of only a couple of people who knew about Jack, their separation, his recent message, and Ianto’s inability to die. He continued regarding the message carefully. “Psychic paper can do many things. This version allows the reader to encode it so that only the recipient can read the message.” He looked up with a smirk. “And it is from the Doctor.”

“Oh,” Jessa hissed, moving to exit the office with her shoulders squared. “I’ll just go and take care of our visitor then,” she added as calmly as an executioner leading a prisoner to the gallows would.

“No,” Ianto said hastily, rising and gesturing. “Show him in.”

Jessa made a sound of derision, but went to do what Ianto told her to do. The Welshman looked down at the paper. ‘He’s an old friend of both of ours. Helping him might help you’, was written in the Doctor’s distinctive, block handwriting. Bastard hadn’t even bothered to sign it, probably because his last experiment with signing notes with ‘XI’ had lead to endless teasing from both Jack and Ianto.

Shaking himself out of his reverie, Ianto watched silently as Jessa led a tall, lithe older man into his office. The visitor looked about sixty in human years. His skin was weathered, and he had lively eyes and a thick head of gray hair. Ianto was sure he had never met the man before, but his eyes narrowed. The Doctor seemed to think he should know his visitor. Had the Time Line confused timelines again and sent this man to an Ianto who had not met him? Just what Ianto needed right now – to have to send for the Doctor to undo a paradox that the Gallifreyan himself had created.

“I’d know you anywhere. You’ve barely changed. I knew you wouldn’t, but seeing it is something else,” the man observed, smiling congenially as he regarded Ianto critically. “You don’t recognise me, do you Dr. Jones?” he asked, eyes twinkling.

“No,” Ianto replied, looking confused. “Should I?”

The man shook his head. “Probably not,” he admitted with a wry expression. “Time is not equally kind to all of us. I was only in my twenties when you left Earth the first time. By the time you got back, I was travelling with the Doctor. Once my Mum passed, I just never went back.” He paused meaningfully. “She always liked you, you know? Even with the guns. It’s why she let me train with you and Jack.”

“Oh, my God,” Ianto breathed, recognition dawning. “Luke Smith.” Sarah Jane’s son was so much older than Ianto remembered, but now that he knew what to look for, he could see the echo of the boy that he had been. Still, he was very confused. “I don’t understand. I mean it’s been nearly a thousand years.”

“More like 963 – well for you at least. I haven’t exactly stayed in your linear timeline,” Luke corrected in his precise way. “It’s been over forty years for me. When I was travelling with the Doctor again for a while after Mum died, we were visiting a Thirtieth Century Earth Colony, and I fell in love. He tried to talk me out of staying but I convinced him it was where I was supposed to be. I’ve been living in this time line ever since. I stay in touch with him, and when I told him about my problem he suggested that I come see you.”

“I should have known he was involved somehow,” Ianto said as he gestured for Luke to have a seat on one of the settees in the consultation area of his office. “How else would you end up here? Coffee?” he asked, indicating the old-fashioned service on the table in his sitting area. He always kept a fresh pot nearby. This was a special roast he’d discovered many centuries ago and kept on hand for those moments that he needed both an emotional and physical pick me up. There had been a great many of them lately.

“Normally, I would say no because I’m more of a tea man, but Mum swore your coffee was made by God himself,” Luke replied, and then smiled fondly when Ianto laughed and fixed him a cup. “Perfection,” he sighed as he sipped the dark liquid.

“What seems to be the problem, Luke?” Ianto inquired, narrowing his eyes. “Though, if the Doctor is up to something, you should know I’ve already turned down his offer to travel with him again. I’m not saying never, but now is not the right time.”

“He said as much – and something about you and Jack causing yourselves grief again,” Luke admitted, shaking his head. “You two used to drive Mum spare, but if time has taught me one thing it’s not to get in the middle of a feuding couple.”

“You have grown into a wise man, Luke,” Ianto replied, trying not to let his bitterness show. He just did not want to talk about Jack yet.

“So, let’s get to the point, shall we,” Luke continued, removing a small, holographic projector from his pocket. He turned it on and it displayed an image of a binary solar system with a cluster of a dozen small planetoids. “What do you know about emerging disease research and the Cantalian Outpost Worlds?”

“Enough to know that’s where the action is,” Ianto replied, curiosity getting the better of him. Since they’d lost Caden all those centuries ago, researching emerging diseases had become his life’s work. He dabbled in male reproduction services when the situation called for it. Between working with Carys all those years ago, Jack’s pregnancies, and his own single effort at carrying a child, he had the experience, but his passion remained diagnosing and treating illnesses that developed as humans came into contact with more and more alien life and environments.

Luke was nodding. “The Cantalian Outposts are a series of planetoids in a binary solar system,” he explained, gesturing to the hologram. “While planets in binary systems are often arid, these are far enough from the suns and shielded enough by heavy clouds that their climate is more like Scotland or Wales back on Earth. They have some extremely fertile regions that are used for agriculture, but mainly their location and topography make them excellent spaceports.”

“And active spaceports are a breeding ground for emerging diseases,” Ianto observed, leaning forward as his curiosity grew.

Moving the hologram to another image of one of the ports, Luke continued, “My company owns controlling interest in most of the Cantalian spaceports and other facilities. We earn money from the docking fees and such, but we also keep order and ensure the flow of commerce. I don’t need to tell you that a great many departure points in developing areas of space are lawless. Our ports are not, and that makes them very popular.”

“I would imagine so,” Ianto agreed, intrigued by what he was hearing. While spaceports were ideal for studying how emerging diseases interacted with new populations, their usual lack of social order made such studies dangerous, if not impossible, for Ianto’s mortal colleagues.

Luke laughed at the expression on Ianto’s face. “The Doctor said you would be intrigued. I’m sure you’ve sorted that emerging diseases are our biggest threat.”

“Yes,” Ianto agreed, looking at the hologram as it again changed to show where various travel and trade routes intersected at the Cantalian Outposts. “You’ve put infection control protocols in place, I assume?”

“As many as possible,” Luke assured him, handing over a data pad that listed what his company had done. “I’m no expert, but I know enough to recognize a critical opportunity to study and map these illnesses, as well as find ways to combat them. Even if our investment in attacking these illnesses don’t pay immediate dividend, we would be proactive rather than reactive, and that’s sound business. Our spaceports would lose fewer operational days to quarantines and have enhanced reputations for safety. That would increase our traffic, as well as have a humanitarian benefit.”

“You don’t need me to verify that,” Ianto observed, impressed by the data Luke was showing him. “What do you need?”

Laughing, Luke keyed in another sequence on the hologram imager. “Always direct. Mum liked that about you.” He smiled even more broadly when a complex of buildings appeared. “This is my dream. The Sarah Jane Smith Institute on Cantalian Six. It’s going to be the leading facility for the research and treatment of emerging diseases well into the next millennium. I’m putting a staff together to head it – a mixture of humans and other species – but I need an advisor to make sure I get it right. This is outside of my comfort zone. Will you help me, Dr. Jones?”

It took Ianto less than a minute to make up his mind. “So,” he sighed, deciding that although this wasn’t how he’d planned to spend his millennial birthday, it beat being alone. A part of him was actually excited about the concept of working on this project. “How do I get there and what equipment will I need?”

“Leave that to me,” Luke replied, a smile eerily reminiscent of Sarah Jane gracing his weathered features. “I have connections,” he concluded impishly.

“Oh, I bet you do,” Ianto replied, shaking his head. “Just keep the Doctor out of it, okay?” he warned pointedly.

“You have my word,” Luke replied solemnly with something akin to sympathy in his eyes. “Just be ready to go within the month.”

TBC
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