Yeah, I'm new on Torchwood fanfiction, but I thought I'd have a shot at a fic, mostly because the UK archives were boring me. Yes, I was so bored that I actually surfed the UK archives. But then this popped into my head and I couldn't resist.
Janto, but later chapters will have Tosh/Owen, Gwen/Rhys. Promise.
Ianto Jones was just clearing up the last of the coffee mugs when the phone rang.
With a sigh, he straightened up, abandoning the search for Owen's cup, and went to answer it.
"Hello, this is Torchwood Cardiff, how can I help you?" he reeled off, the words easily slipping off his tongue from long practice.
There was a guttural coughing at the other end. Ianto frowned.
"Hello?" he repeated.
"...Ianto Jones..." the voice wheezed, echoing strangely down the line.
Ianto felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up on end. He swallowed and gripped the receiver tighter.
"How do you know my name?" he asked sharply, trying not to let his voice quiver.
A dry hack answered him. Ianto tensed, glancing up at Jack's office.
"...so...sorry..." the voice managed to whisper, before the line went dead.
Ianto froze, the receiver still clutched in his right hand. The dead line was droning in his ear, and he shakily put it down, before backing away and collapsing into Tosh's chair.
Jack jogged down the stairs, hand in his pockets and a frown on his chiselled features.
"I thought I'd told you to go home," he commented, not really scolding. Ianto's mouth still felt dry.
He gestured weakly at the used cups on the tray. "Just...just cleaning up," he muttered, not meeting Jack's intense blue gaze. "Soon be done."
Jack jumped down the last three steps and sauntered over. "What's up?"
Jack knew that something was wrong; he always knew when something was wrong.
Ianto frowned. "Nothing, sir."
"Rubbish. What was that phone call about?"
"Can we please drop the 'sir' now? I thought we'd talked about this-"
"I'll be going now," Ianto interrupted, standing up and straightening his suit. "Good-night, sir."
Jack said nothing as Ianto headed past him, up to the tourist office. The lights flashed as the cog wheel rolled aside and Ianto vanished from sight. But as soon as he was sure Ianto had left, he instantly headed to one of the workstations and tapped into the CCTV.
The CCTV wasn't that good, Jack mused as he instead opened up a sound file of all the calls made in the past 24hrs. It hadn't told him much, other than Ianto could still look good when he was scared.
All similar thoughts fled Jack's head as he listened to the audio file. He recognised that voice. And he didn't like what it boded.
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