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fic_promptly's Torchwood, Ianto, the first time he encountered Captain Harkness' name in a report
The first time that Ianto laid eyes on the name and face of Captain Jack Harkness, he was reading up on weevil attacks: there'd been a few incursions in London, though the creatures were mostly known to lurk in the shadows in and around Cardiff, Wales. Torchwood-3 was in the command of a man by that name, and as part of their activities in maintaining the Rift over which the city stood, they strove to keep the strange-looking creatures from goodness-knew-where or -when.
Jack Harkness... the name suggested a roguish captain of some tall ship in the Age of Sails, the hero of a dozen swashbuckling adventures, a man who had raided pirate vessels, rescuing captives and returning treasures to their rightful owners, a man quite at ease on a deck fighting hand to hand with cutlass or pistol or in the drawing room charming the ladies, a man with a boon companion at his side, fighting hip to hip or back to back, cutting a swathe through the howling enemy hordes...
He might simply have read a few too many Rafael Sabatini novels as a boy, and the tales of derring-doo had colored his imagination.
"Ianto? Do you have that report finished?" a cool, female voice asked. Ianto snapped back to the present and looked up, into Yvonne Hartman's icy blue eyes.
"I should have it on your desk in a bit, Ms Hartman," he replied.
"I needed it this morning," she said. "But I think I can give you an extension, till tonight. But no later." And with that, she went on her official duty.
Well, he wouldn't get it done wool-gathering about dashing captains. But after hours, he would have a look at the rest of the man's files to see what else the man had gotten up to.
fic_promptly's Torchwood, Ianto, the first time he encountered Captain Harkness' name in a reportThe first time that Ianto laid eyes on the name and face of Captain Jack Harkness, he was reading up on weevil attacks: there'd been a few incursions in London, though the creatures were mostly known to lurk in the shadows in and around Cardiff, Wales. Torchwood-3 was in the command of a man by that name, and as part of their activities in maintaining the Rift over which the city stood, they strove to keep the strange-looking creatures from goodness-knew-where or -when.
Jack Harkness... the name suggested a roguish captain of some tall ship in the Age of Sails, the hero of a dozen swashbuckling adventures, a man who had raided pirate vessels, rescuing captives and returning treasures to their rightful owners, a man quite at ease on a deck fighting hand to hand with cutlass or pistol or in the drawing room charming the ladies, a man with a boon companion at his side, fighting hip to hip or back to back, cutting a swathe through the howling enemy hordes...
He might simply have read a few too many Rafael Sabatini novels as a boy, and the tales of derring-doo had colored his imagination.
"Ianto? Do you have that report finished?" a cool, female voice asked. Ianto snapped back to the present and looked up, into Yvonne Hartman's icy blue eyes.
"I should have it on your desk in a bit, Ms Hartman," he replied.
"I needed it this morning," she said. "But I think I can give you an extension, till tonight. But no later." And with that, she went on her official duty.
Well, he wouldn't get it done wool-gathering about dashing captains. But after hours, he would have a look at the rest of the man's files to see what else the man had gotten up to.
