Rating: PG (so far. Might get higher and the subsequent chapters)
Pairing/Characters: Ianto; Jack; Gwen; Martha; Mickey; OCs (Jack/Ianto and there probably will be mentions of Gwen/Rhys)
Genre: General so far, but maybe romance eventually? It is after all a Janto fic
Summary: Nine months later and Ianto wakes up from death.
Spoiler: Mentions of Children of Earth, but nothing especific, except Ianto's death, but I don't consider it a fix it fic; at least not yet.
Disclaimer: Sadly, they are not mine. I'd never kill Ianto and ruin the best cannon shipper ever!
Notes: Huge thanks to specialj67 for being my beta. Jackie, you rock!
Emma Waters walked back to the black SUV parked just outside the warehouse, her knee-high ass-kicking boots clicking on the wet ground. Metronomic in contrast to the jumbled thoughts and gnawing fear battling inside of her. The entire raid had been a Disaster. Once again, Ianto Jones slipped through their fingers like water. Emma had underestimated him; the man was smart and sneaky, and now she understood why the General hadn’t been surprised when she reported Ianto's escape from the facility.
Emma climbed in the backseat and pulled the door closed before finally turning to address the other occupant while he continued to face away from her, staring out the window. She schooled her features: the General would not be pleased with what she was about to say.
“We missed him again, sir.” Emma finally announced. “There’s no sign--at all--of where he could be.”
The General's reflection in the window distorted into a sinister smile, which sent a chill down her spine.
“I beg to differ.” He finally spoke and pointed outside. Emma craned her neck around him to make out the lone silver Audi through the tinted window.
“If you run it’s plates, you’ll find out that it belongs to a Dr. Martha Jones, ex-UNIT medical officer known associate of the Doctor and friend of Torchwood.” He spoke in an eerily soft, monotonous tone. “That should give you somewhere to start looking for Mr. Jones. Also, I would start watching the CCTV feeds of the west-bound motorways connecting London and Cardiff--you know that's the first place he'll head to--and setting up check-points, not that he would be stupid enough to use the M4."
Emma nodded sharply, committing the orders to memory before pushing the door open, preparing to leave.
"Oh, and Emma?" The way her name flowed over his tongue like melted chocolate unnerved her. Her hand froze over the door handle as she turned and met his dead gray eyes. “I don’t like failures Miss Waters, and this is your second; a third will...negatively impact...you chances for future advancement within the organization." There was no malice or anger, just an unnerving serenity and coldness. Emma tamped down her growing sense of unease before nodding once more and finally exiting the car. She must find Ianto Jones…
A couple of miles away in a deserted play park, Mickey, Martha, and Ianto ran like the Devil was on their heels. Ianto had been right; soon after they left the building, the place was flooded with military types. They didn’t even have time to take the car and had to escape on foot. It bothered Mickey a lot that the other man knew exactly what was going to happen. Organized squads like that lived and breathed secrecy and stealth--no loud flash entrances with guns a-blazing like they showed on the TV. So Ianto had to have known it would happen, and he...helped them escape to win their trust? Well, that would not work on Mickey Smith. No, sir.
As soon as they were out of the immediate we're-all-gonna-die-in-two-minutes danger, he turned to Ianto, still panting, and pressed his handgun against Ianto's not-even-flushed forehead. Hadn’t even broken a sweat--what the bloody hell!?
“What the hell are you doing, Mickey!?” Martha asked franticly, looking from her husband’s hard features, to Ianto’s serene ones.
“How did you know they were coming, huh? Are they your partners?”
“I heard them.” The other man replied calmly. He kept his hands up and out in the open in a nonthreatening manner. “Take the gun out of my face, please.”
“You couldn’t have heard anything.” Mickey remained unmoving.
“I couldn’t have come back from the dead either, and yet...” Ianto remarked dryly, the ellipses practically audible. His eyes never leaving Mickey's.
“If you’re Ianto--” Mickey began, voice full of mistrust.
“Take the gun out of my face.” Ianto repeated, this time his tone was hard and slightly menacing.
“Make me.” The other challenged through gritted teeth.
In a move that was inhumanly fast, Ianto knocked the gun out of Mickey’s hand, tossing it on the ground, before twisting his arm up behind his back. He held Mickey for a couple of seconds, before releasing him with a light shove, who spun around to face Ianto, ready to strike.
“That’s enough testosterone for one night, thank you!” Martha said, stepping between the two and turning a glare towards Mickey.
“I don’t trust him.” He said harshly, glaring daggers.
“I said 'please' the first time.” Ianto stated as he retrieved the gun from the ground and unloaded it, giving both weapon and ammo to Martha.
“Stop it!” She ordered angrily. “We’re stuck together for now. Let’s focus on getting back to where I can finish my tests.”
“We are going to need a car.” Ianto pointed out.
“No kidding!” Mickey remarked sarcastically, earning himself an eye roll from Ianto and a slap in the arm from Martha. “Hey!”
“I said: stop it!”
Mickey glared at her, and Martha glared back. Ianto just rolled his eyes again. Couple’s fight, lovely. "Just what we need." Ianto groused to himself as he stalked off toward a nearby road on a search for a car.