| Date: 24 December 2007
Characters: Ianto Jones, The Master Location: outside Link to IJ: thread #18602 |
 Ianto filed a copy of his latest report in the appropriate archive, pausing when he was done to enjoy the silence of the archives for a moment. He'd sent the intern home early, and with the other archivist on leave, he had the entirety of the cavernous room to himself. He closed his eyes, leaning back against the wall a moment, only to tense when he felt the texture change. A door, directly behind him, that shouldn't exist.
He turned to glare at it a moment before reaching for the knob, slowly turning it, and pushing the door open without stepping through. Not the hallway he usually came out on this time, but a darkened room. He studied it a long moment before stepping through, closing it behind him, sighing when it faded into the wall. He hated when that happened. He headed for the door, raising a mental eyebrow at the street access instead of a hallway before stepping out. He hadn't gone far when he saw a familiar face, and froze for a moment. "Sir?" It couldn't be his employer, not with the snide and irritated commentary back with each of his reports. But he had no doubts it was the Master. The face was all too familiar. |
 The Master raised an eyebrow. He was used to "Master" rather than "Sir", at least since he'd 'come out', so to speak, from behind the persona of Harold Saxon, Prime Minister, and made himself known as the Master.
Apart from which, he had never met the young man addressing him before. He ran his eyes over the stranger, taking in the immaculate suit and attention to detail in his appearance. It appealed to him. Of course, the fact that he'd never met the man before didn't mean he didn't know who he was. He'd spent a year and a half trapped on Earth researching Captain Jack Harkness and his team. "Mr Jones." |
| "I didn't expect to see you here." Ianto resisted the itch to have his knife in hand, clasping his hands behind him instead. "Or rather, not the you that is my employer. Which version of reality do you come from, if I might ask?" |
| "One in which you and I have not yet met, Mr Jones. But where when you do you will most certainly not be calling me merely Sir."
His mind was racing. There was a reality where Ianto Jones was working for him? "Or am I still going by the name Harold Saxon where you come from?" Because that would explain it. But something about this young man's attitude told him that his real identity was known to him. |
| "You never have." Ianto watched the Master, a small smirk creeping across his face. "I wouldn't dream of calling my employer by name in public. Nor would I use his name to refer to anyone else unless that person insisted." Ianto deliberately paused, the smirk widening a fraction. "Master." |
| Ah, that was better! The Master felt himself warming to the young man, despite his overly familiar manner. No-one had called him by name since he arrived in this place, not even the Doctor.
Such a simple thing, but there was so much power in a name. He acknowledged the title with a small twist of his lips, while his eyes stayed very bright, and fixed on Ianto's face. "Well," he said slowly, feeling his way, because this really was unexpected and he didn't want to waste such an opportunity. "Suppose you tell me a little more about your reality, Mr Jones. Such as what I'm upto and what exactly you - " his gaze swept briefly down Ianto's impeccably-clad body and back up to his face - "do for me." |
| Ianto shrugged, rolling forward on his toes a moment. "You run Torchwood, and plan to rule the world. Just as soon as you won't interfere in the timeline of the Doctor and his latest companion, Miss Rose Tyler. I believe it has to do about not wanting to loose Captain Harkness, and his interesting inability to die.
"As for me?" Ianto gave the Master a self-depricating smile. "I merely keep the archives, and drag them kicking and screaming into the twenty-first century." It was the least of what he did, and he wasn't about to elaborate without some incentive. This was his employer he was talking about, even if it was to a version of the same. |
| Oh, that sounded like a fun reality.
He smirked. "I think I like the sound of your world. Though you appear to be a little behind me, timewise. Rose Tyler is no longer with the Doctor where I come from." He took a moment to absorb the details, pacing a little, hands in pockets. Then he looked back at Ianto and said lightly. "You 'merely keep the archives', eh? I find that hard to believe. Assuming you're anything at all like your counterpart in my reality." |
| Ianto's smile widened a fraction. "As any Torchwood employee, I do submit reports on any unusual, possibly alien-related activity I observe." He leaned his head back a fraction, pausing, watching the Master.
"There have been times when you've been quite... interested in the activitied of Captain Harkness during his trips to Glasgow. I am obliged to send the appropriate archive files." Video archive files, which had earned him a rather tidy little bonus. And a long holiday shared with Lisa. |
| The Master's lips twitched. "Oh, I'm sure I'm very interested in anything Captain Harkness gets up to. He's an exceptional man, in more ways than one."
He quirked an eyebrow at Ianto. "What's my relationship with him in your reality?" |
| "I would hesitate to give it a label, Master." Ianto licked his lips, his eyes slightly unfocused for a moment. "The first records are of the two of you in London, 1901. There are few records of either of you seperate until the 1960s, when Captain Harkness apparently left your company, Masterwork Creations, to chase after alien sightings. He was recruited by Torchwood, and introduced you to them in 1973. In three years, you became Director of Torchwood, and Captain Harkness became Assistant Director.
"There is speculation that you and he are having sex, that there is a romantic relationship between you, that you hate each other with a passion. I doubt any of those rumours are entirely accurate." Ianto gave a superior little smirk. "He does appear to be a voice of reason when you require one, and you appear to give him the approval and structured environment he craves." He paused, unclasping his hands, and shoving them in his pockets, though he barely kept from wrapping the one around his knife. "I believe you've also taken to killing him when he talks you out of something drastic. A release of frustration with the waiting, as I recall it being referred to." By Jack, since he tried to avoid personal conversations with the Master most of the time. |
| The Master listened to the story with rapt attention, eyes widening as he learned just how much power his counterpart seemed to have ammassed on Earth. Though if he'd been there for over a century, perhaps it wasn't so surprising.
He wandered over to a nearby wall and leaned back against it, keeping a careful eye on the hand that Ianto had in the same pocket as his knife. Not that it was any match for a laser screwdriver, but it was sensible to be cautious. He didn't want to waste a regeneration, and he happened to like this body. He said, finally, "That... arrangement sounds not altogether unfamiliar. He's a useful man to have around, Jack is. Have you seen him here yet?" |
| "One of them." Ianto shrugged. "Not the Jack I am accustomed to, but he's not from my reality. I doubt he's from a time in your reality, provided you are indeed from the same reality, where he is familiar with you, Master. Nor would I be able to speculate on the others, as I've yet to meet them, though I've heard there is more than one Jack here." |
| "I've heard that too. And everybody seems to have seen him but me. I was kind of hoping that if he's talked to everybody, Jack might have a better idea than most about what's going on here and if there's any possible way to get back." |
| Ianto's smirk widened. "I don't think he's found the way back yet, Master." |
| The Master felt himself tense. "And you have? There is a way back?" |
| "If you know what you're looking for." Ianto kept his gaze locked with the Master's. "It took me a week to find my way back the first time, and for everyone else, no time had passed. Sometimes it's weeks between trips here, sometimes only days or hours. Likewise, time spent here." He shrugged. "Not that I expect it to be as easy for everyone, or even to have the same mode of egress and entry." |
| "But even so, that's... incredibly valuable. Just knowing one can leave - and especially that one can return." Oh, the possibilities!
"Has anyone else managed to leave, or is it just you? And does anyone else know you have?" |
| "I don't exactly discuss it, no." Ianto shifted on his feet. "And I haven't asked, though I suspect Doctor Harper - the one from my reality, if a few years further along - has done so. He doesn't appear to remember any details of his visits, though." Privately, he thought that might be because every time he'd run into Owen, the man had been in the pub, or the hotel bar. Usually trying yet another new drink. But he couldn't be certain. |
| The Master frowned. Losing the memory of what happened here would be a massive blow.
"How do you get back, then? The same way you came?" Maybe he should start combing the basement. |
| "There's a door I find when I need to travel between them. It isn't always in the same place, and it doesn't lead to the same place everytime here. It always, though, leads back to the same place and time as I left." Ianto shrugged. "I don't understand it, but it's always provided a needed... perspective, you could say." Time to relax before he did something that he'd regret, usually. Like put interns who crashed the archives into the hospital. |
| "So... it just appears when you need it? How very unusual."
He'd prefer something with a bit more predicatability, but at least he knew there was a way out now. Maybe he just needed to really, really want to get back. |
| "As I said, it may not be the same for everyone." Ianto took his hands out of his pockets, straightening his cuffs before clasping his hands behind his back once more. "You said earlier that in your reality, you and I haven't met yet." He raised an eyebrow, silently inviting the Master to elaborate more on that, perhaps tell him more about the reality he came from. |
| The Master chuckled, coming away from the wall and starting to pace again.
"Ah well, fair's fair, I suppose. I was lucky to bump into you and you really have been incredibly helpful, Mr Jones. "In my reality, Jack's one of the good guys - on the Doctor's side - and runs Torchwood Three in Cardiff. You work for him there. I've only been on Earth for a little under two years, and I spent the first eighteen months just watching your Captain - and the rest of you - while I worked my way into politics." He wandered over to a darkened window and perched a hip on the window sill. "In October last year, I won the election - landslide majority, of course! - and basically took over the world." Which didn't after all compare too badly to his counterpart's achievements, he reflected. |
| "It appears that regardless of the reality, you have the same goals." Ianto ventured closer to the Master, studying him. "I do wonder if my counterpart is capable of... taking an opportunity if it is presented to him. I've met... a version of him, and I can't be certain he wouldn't let morals get in the way of survival." |
| The Master kept a careful eye on Ianto as he moved nearer. The boy might work for him in another world, but he didn't trust him at all.
"There's another one of you here too? You Torchwood folks do get about, don't you?" He raised a delicate eyebrow. "It'd be interesting to meet him." |
| "So it appears." Ianto shrugged. "I don't know how interesting it would be to meet him, unless you can be certain he's from your reality. On the other hand, I can think of some... interesting entertainment, if you're interested." He hadn't walked through the door with this in mind, but the chance to have an audience.... Ianto smiled darkly, a familiar sense of anticipation running through him. Even if not here, he could ask Jack to meet him in London when he got back. |
| "Hmm, good point." The Master tapped his fingers thoughtfully against his mouth. "No way to be sure anyone's from the same reality as me." After all, neither the Doctor nor Lucy had definitely been from his reality.
He looked up at Ianto, drums suddenly pounding in his head at the way the boy had suddenly perked up. "Entertainment?" |
| "Jack, a knife, and some private space." Ianto leaned one hand against the wall, deliberately tapping his fingers in the pattern he'd often heard the Master use in his reality. "He won't stay dead, after all. And it's been a while since I've been able to... indulge in that particular form of entertainment." |
| The Master glanced briefly down at the tapping fingers, but forebore to comment. There were more interesting things to comment on.
He made a delicate face. "Oh, knives are so messy. I find the laser screwdriver so much neater. And so much more precision. It's an enticing idea, though. "Unfortunately, not really practical. Killing Jack - however delicious it would be - isn't something we could really keep quiet. And if we couldn't be sure of being able to get away..." |
| Ianto shrugged. "Messy is part of the point, sir. Though it is something hard to hide, I would grant." He lifted one hand, fingers spread in a gesture that said better than words, "whatever".
He smiled to himself as he noted the door fading into view in the one wall. "If you will pardon me, sir, I believe my exit has decided to show up. And I think I have a phone call to make." |
| The Master inclined his head.
"Certainly, Mr Jones. It was fascinating meeting you. And if you ever find yourself back here again - " he smirked - "look me up." |