Fandom: Torchwood

Characters: Ianto, Jack

Author: m_findlow

Rating: PG

Length: 3,925 words

Content notes: none

Author notes: Written for Challenge 325 - Correct

Summary: Ianto has his back against the wall in a game that is life or death.

Ianto blinked in confusion as a blinding light woke him. He raised his arm to shield his eyes even as the space around him began to form. He blinked again, still confused. Hadn't he been at home in bed? He was sure that was where he'd been, but this place, wherever he was, most definitely wasn't his bedroom.

Abducted by aliens, he mused. Had to happen eventually, he decided, given his line of work. Strangely however, he found he wasn't dressed in his pajamas, but in one of his nice crisp suits. The shirt collar still had the lingering scent of starch spray from where he'd ironed it. Okay, weirder and weirder. Perhaps if he found the aliens who'd teleported him, he could ask them how they'd dressed him. It would certainly save him time in the mornings.

He looked around for Jack. He'd been in bed with Ianto at the time. If Ianto was here then surely Jack couldn't be far away. 'Jack?' he called out, wondering why he'd just been left in this spartan white-walled room, and what his abductors wanted from him.

If Jack was here he must be on another part of the ship because Ianto waited a full five minutes but no one appeared.

Finally there was a hum and an invisible door on one side of the room rose up. From within a tiny metal flying object entered and hovered in front of Ianto's face. It was about the size of a melon and had a row of little red lights that ran around its middle. They flashed at him. 'Name?' it asked.

Ianto unconsciously fiddled with the knot of his tie. 'Uh, Ianto Jones.'

'Planet of origin?'

'Earth.'

The little flying robot snorted derisively. 'Oh, this should be good.'

'Um, forgive me if this is a stupid question, but where am I?'

'Oh, no need to apologise. Your stupidity is a given.' The robot's voice changed suddenly and loudly announced “Congratulations and welcome to Game Station 902, where anything is possible and everything can lead you to win, win, win!” It sounded like every bad game show voice over Ianto had ever heard.

'Game station?'

The robot's original nasally voice returned. 'Yes. Well done. You made it. Heaven knows how. I thought your species had quite given up, but it seems there's always some silly sod prepared to get themselves killed.'

Ianto swallowed down a lump forming at the back of his throat. 'Killed?'

'Well, you signed up for this.'

'No, I didn't.'

The little bot sighed disparagingly at him. 'Humans… I don't know why you bother. You know you're going to die in here, don't you?'

'I don't even know where here is!'

'It was all in the terms and conditions when you applied. I keep saying "those stupid bipeds never read anything before they sign", but who wants to listen to little old me? I'm just an info bot. No that it's any skin off my nose if you die. I don't have to do the paperwork for it.'

'Okay. Let's take a step back for a second,' Ianto said, trying to gather his thoughts. 'I was in bed, minding my own business and now somehow I'm on a game station where presumably I either win or I die?'

'Mmm. That would be the basic premise, yes.'

'But I don't want to play. I don't really want to die, either.'

'You should have considered that before you signed up,' the little info bot retorted.

'But, I didn't!'

'Too late now to sulk and change your mind. All part of the terms I'm afraid. Once you're here, that's it. A lot of folks wait years to get here, you know. You should really be more grateful.'

Ianto gave a sigh; the kind he reserved for obnoxious public servants and parking officers. 'Oh, well great. Just great. Don't suppose I could see a copy of these terms and conditions, could I?'

'Afraid not. All part of the waiver you signed.'

Ianto's fists balled up as his sides before he protested again that he hadn't seen or signed anything. He didn't even like game shows. 'So, what now?'

'The game starts the moment you step through that door into the first question room.'

'And if I don't?'

'The airlock vents all the breathable atmosphere in preparation for the next contestant. They don't all breathe oxygen like you, you know. And we are running a bit of a tight schedule here, so, you know, if you wouldn't mind moving along so we can keep things to time? I've got three thousand more hopefuls lined up behind you. The quicker you die the sooner I can find out which species thinks it's cleverer than you. To be quite frank, that's a very low bar.' It heaved a sigh. 'And my mother always had such high hopes for me.'

Ianto was unimpressed to say the least, but what choice did he seem to have? 'What if I have more questions along the way?'

The bot chortled. 'That's bold of you to assume you'll survive long. But sadly for me, it's my job to accompany you. I get to record all the close ups and those quaint little snippets of commentary for when they broadcast this, assuming you're interesting enough to be bothered. The editors go mad for that stuff. Personally, I couldn't care two figs.'

'Do you have a name?' He didn't really fancy talking to an unnamed flying tin melon.

'My official designation is Galactic Response and Interpretation Unit, or GRI. I can quote you my serial number if you like.'

'How about I just call you Gerry?'

The little red lights flashed along its middle in an irritated pulsing. 'I find that designation utterly appalling.'

Ianto grinned. 'Good. Now that we're both unhappy about it, shall we?' With no small amount of trepidation, he stepped through the doorway and heard it hiss shut behind him.

"Welcome to Game Station 902, Ianto Jones," chimed a sultry feminine voice.

'She's more polite than you, Gerry.'

'Shut up.'

"Would you like to hear your first question, Ianto?"

'Oh, yes please,' he said, trying to ooze enthusiasm. How hard could it really be?

"Okay. Question one. Name the famous planet on which the Star Sixty Seven franchise of cocktail bars was first founded."

Ianto frowned. 'The what?'

'Oh, come now. Everybody knows that answer to that one,' Gerry sneered. 'Talk about a basic icebreaker.'

'Everyone except me,' Ianto reminded him.

"Would you like me to repeat the question?" the voice asked.

'No, that's fine.'

'Stuck already?' Gerry asked. 'Did someone put you up to this? Get your face on TV for a bit of a laugh? Not so funny now, is it?'

'Be quiet and let me think.' He honestly had no idea. He'd never even heard of it. Jack would have known. He'd probably propped them up over the years with all his pre-Torchwood adventures. 'Um, Andromeda?'

"Incorrect. The correct answer is Kalifraxia," the feminine voice intoned.

'Never heard of it,' Ianto muttered.

'Haven't you ever been there?' Gerry asked. 'Pretty much a must see destination, so I'm told. Then again you look more like the indoorsy type.'

Ianto braced himself for something awful to happen and then relaxed a bit when nothing at all happened. 'Not that I'm complaining but didn't you say something about dying?'

Gerry's light display gave the equivalent of an eye roll. 'Not yet, obviously. Wouldn't make for every good entertainment if we just popped you off at the first hurdle, would it? Need to give contestants the impression that they stand a chance. Even if most of them don't.'

'And how many people actually win?'

'Broadly statistically or your actual species?'

'Oh, go on. Just the humans, then.'

'That would be none. But there's always a first, and that would make for really good entertainment.'

Ianto gave his own eye roll. 'Wouldn't it just?'

"Question number two. Which species fought and lost the Pa-Jass Vortan war?"

Ianto took another wild stab in the dark. 'The Daleks?'

"Correct."

'Really?'

'You guessed, didn't you?' Ianto could tell Gerry was disappointed more than pleased.

Ianto beamed. 'Who cares?'

"Question three. In the Sarsquan theological calendar, which month precedes the month of Venn?"

'Sloopa,' Ianto said confidently. 'I have a copy of it on the wall in my office. My boyfriend loves it because he gets four birthdays a year according to their calendar.'

"That is incorrect."

Ianto did a double take. 'What?'

"Sloopa precedes Venn in the astrological calendar, not the theological calendar. The correct answer is Shoom."

'Bollocks.'

'Not so cocky now, are you?' Gerry mocked.

'You got me on a technicality. That was hardly fair.'

"You answered one out of three questions correctly. Please proceed to room two."

A door slipped open opposite him which surprised him. 'I get to move on despite getting two wrong?'

Gerry snickered. 'Oh, trust me. You'll wish you'd gotten more right. We're just getting warmed up.'

Ianto stepped through into the second room. It looked just like the first except for a few tiny little medal nodes poking out of the walls at random points.

"Welcome to room two," came a new voice. "Are you having fun?"

'Oh, loads.' This one sounded more like the English teacher Ianto had in grade four, who was about a hundred years old and slightly removed from reality. "Question four. What is the correct term for addressing a female Martian?"

'Miss?'

"Incorrect. The correct answer is Shsurr." The last word didn't even sound like a word, more of a mumble, and Ianto thought again of his English teacher and pictured her having a stroke.

'I didn't even catch that. Ow!' Ianto spun sharply as something caught him painfully in the back of the calf. He caught just the faintest sparks as something bright and white crackled from one metal node to another on the opposite side of the room, hitting him along the way. 'It zapped me!'

'Yes. It will do that a bit.'

Another bolt lanced across the room, snapping his sharply in the neck. 'Ow! Jesus f…. Christ,' he said, blowing out a breath and avoiding the expletive before it.

'This is nothing,' Gerry said. 'These questions are so simple that getting them wrong only earns you a teensy little zap. There's far worse than this.'

Ianto groaned. 'Yippee.'

"Question five. What is the staple diet of the Grimble?"

'Porridge,' Ianto replied quickly, earning himself a sharp zap. 'Ow! Oats.' Another zap. 'Cereals!' Zap. 'Wholegrains!' Zap zap. 'Ow, ow, ow! Oh, come on. That's we were feeding ours and they've never complained!' He received a further zap straight through his right hand in the event his opinions counted as a further answer. 'Firetruck!' he swore, getting another zap for his troubles. He growled. 'That wasn't an answer!'

"Incorrect. Encho grain is the staple diet food."

'You should quit while you're ahead,' Gerry offered.

'You now, I much preferred the nice condescending voice in the previous room.'

Gerry snickered. 'She used to do naughty cybertronic films in a past life.'

'I never would have guessed.'

"Question six. Which planet developed the Zygon killing gas Z-67, now banned under Shadow Proclamation law?"

'Er… The Sontarans?'

"Incorrect. It was the planet Earth of the Milky Way galaxy."

'Damn. How do I not know that?' If he found out Jack was keeping that detail in one of his secret Captain's log files, he was going to kill him. Assuming he made it out of here alive.

"Question seven. What intergalactic species are better known as the Eight Legs?"

Ianto paused to consider this one. Clearly rash guessing wasn't working. He'd once had a giant alien octopus crash its ship into the bay. He'd been jealous of the fact that Jack was going down to help it whilst he and Gwen would be stuck up on the boat. Anything with tentacles caused Ianto to feel a pang of jealousy. Jack and tentacles were always a bad combination. What had it been called? Ah, that was it. 'Kerranian.'

"Incorrect. The Eight Legs are a species of giant spiders."

'Blimey. I hope I never meet one of them. Jack would absolutely freak out.'

'You would need a very big shoe to sort them out,' Gerry agreed. 'Who's Jack?'

'My boyfriend.'

'Is he as stupid as you?'

Ianto ignored the insult. 'He was a Time Agent,' as if that settled the matter regarding his intelligence.

Gerry snorted. 'Cheats.'

Ianto couldn't help but smile. 'Oh, you've met him, then?' He heard another fizzle from the side of the room and looked worryingly across at it, but it just seemed to threaten rather than actually eject another bottle of electricity. Ianto figured the next one might give him more than a nasty jolt.

"Please proceed to room three."

'Thank God,' Ianto said. 'Nothing could be worse than this.'

'You wanna bet? Why did you sign up for this, by the way? You don't look like you're desperate for the money.'

'I didn't! I told you already. I don't have any clue how I got here.' He was starting to think someone who didn't like him had put him up for this.

Gerry gave an indifferent sigh. 'Oh, well. S'pose it doesn't really matter now, does it? Room three, then, get a move on. I can't wait for this.'

Ianto cast his gaze around the third of the stark white rooms. This one at least didn't have any nasty little metal rods poking out of the walls. How much worse could it be?

"Welcome to room number three, Ianto Jones," announced a sleek masculine voice.

'Ooh, back to sex bestie,' Ianto commented, trying to make light of the cheeky male voice. 'Come on, then. What ridiculous question are you going to ask me now?'

"Question eight. Which Silurian word for stone fruit is an anagram of the Judoon word for speculate?"

'Oh, Christ,' Ianto muttered, dropping his head into his hands. He really shouldn't have tempted fate with cynicism. He sighed, knowing it didn't really matter what he said. 'Peach.'

"Incorrect."

Ianto wasn't sure what hit him but something forced his knees to suddenly buckle under him as he grabbed his head, thinking it would explode. There was an invisible noise drumming inside his head, pulsing and booming and making the whole room spin.

'Ooh! Sonic disruptor beams,' Gerry cooed. 'Makes my computer chips go all tingly.'

'Make it stop!' Ianto begged, as the invisible sound tried to split his skull.

'Oh,' Gerry tutted. 'Does that one hurt a little bit?' He hovered right up in Ianto's face. 'Give a good grimace for the cameras, eh? They might air your attempts after all.'

The pulsing beat went on for what felt like an eternity before it finally stopped. He let out a little involuntary groan of relief. He didn't want to experience that again. He might not survive a second wave.

"Question nine. What is the name of the now defunct law enforcement agency that was an offshore of the Shadow Proclamation, disbanded in the year 5123?"

Ianto massaged his temples as he knelt on the floor and threw another wild guess out there, bracing for another round of excruciating sonic energy. 'The Time Agency?'

"Correct."

He doubled over in relief. He didn't think he could cope with another round of that. Finally karma owed him one.

'Had to get one right eventually,' Gerry said.

'Your confidence in me is overwhelming.'

'Not like you've got form, is it?'

"Question ten. What is the most distinctive feature of the Krillitane anatomy?"

Ianto knew he'd been hanging around Jack far too long when the first thing that popped into his head was something entirely naughty. Plus, if it was that distinctive, he was sure Jack would have found a way of mentioning it by now.

'Help me out here?' he begged as Gerry hovered by the corner of the room.

'No can do.'

'Just a little hint?'

'Not part of the rules.'

'Oh, you can bend them. First human to ever potentially win. It'd make great viewing!'

The bot sighed. 'Not like I've got arms and legs for a game of charades. Try something completely not obvious.'

Ianto wracked his brain. Not obvious. That wasn't a lot to go on. He discounted a whole bunch of obvious things, trying to narrow it down by excluding eyes and hands and teeth and hair. What the hell wasn't obvious? Even a chin could be distinctive. 'Knees?'

"Incorrect. The Krillitane create morphic illusions to their outer appearance to whatever species they choose. Their most distinctive feature is that they have none."

Oh, that so wasn't fair, Ianto thought as another sonic wave came crashing down on him. He yelled through the agony it caused, no longer caring. The sonic wave finally abated and Ianto curled over on his side in a ball. 'Please make it stop.'

Gerry gave an unconcerned hum. 'It's not up to me. Start answering a few questions right and things will go easier for you.'

'I've been in outer space, like twice. In my whole life. That's not exactly what you'd call well travelled.'

'Then perhaps you shouldn't have signed up for the show.'

Ianto gave a vexed sigh. 'I keep telling you I didn't!'

'You've only gotten two questions right so far out of ten. As contestants go, you're right at the bottom with the worst of them.'

'How many questions does it take to win?'

'Fifty.'

'Oh, is that all? And every third or fourth question you drag up me into a new room of torture? Are the other 901 games stations before this one the same or did I just strike it lucky?'

'Mmm…' Gerry paused to consider it. 'Pretty much they're all like this in one form or another. You could've been stuck in one where you have to sleep with the eleven other contestants and eat cereal without milk for two months straight just to avoid being voted off.'

Ianto smirked. 'Yes, I've seen Big Brother.'

'Not that you need to worry about that.'

'Oh. Why's that?'

'You're up to question eleven. Fail this and I'm afraid it's that end of the line for you.'

The admission sobered Ianto pretty quickly. 'What happens?'

'Probably shouldn't tell you.'

He shrugged. 'Probably not. But do anyway. I promise not to freak out.'

'Blasted into atoms and ejected out into space,' Gerry replied.

'That's littering.'

'Won't be your problem though, will it? You'll be dead.'

'Fair point.' Blasted into atoms. Not the way he imagined going, and it didn't sound very heroic, either. Oh, Ianto Jones, this really hasn't been your day, has it? There didn't seem to be any point delaying. He was stuck on a homicidal game station with a sycophant robot and no way out but to plod on through. 'Deal me in,' he said.

"Question eleven. Please provide the numerical answer to the following equation." Ianto looked at the projection on the wall. If it was math, it was nothing he'd ever seen before. There were no numbers or algebra or anything else he recognised as mathematical symbols.

Ianto looked despairingly around the tiny room. 'I'm going to die now, aren't I?'

There was a rolling run of red lights across the bot's middle. 'I'm not programmed for gambling, but if I were I'd put credits on it.'

He didn't have a clue. He didn't know where to begin. Even if he had Tosh here, it could take days or weeks to figure it out. 'I don't suppose I could phone a friend, could I?'

'No.'

'Fifty fifty?'

'What do you think this is, some kind of prehistoric game show?'

'Worth asking.'

'Just answer the question. I'm getting bored now and I'm thinking about how long it's going to take to get through the backlog of those other three thousand contestants now.'

'I'll bet most of them don't even acknowledge you.'

He hummed thoughtfully. 'That's true. Still, it doesn't mean I like you. Or that i can get you out of this ridiculously dire situation you put yourself in.'

'Is the answer capable of being spoken in English?'

'Hmmm…. Might be?'

'Right. Pick a number. Any number.' The answer to life, the universe and everything. 'Forty two?' At least if he was going to die, he'd do it with a sense of irony.

"Correct," the voiceover chimed. "Congratulations."

'Wait, what?' He looked around in disbelief. 'I got it right? I'm not about to be blasted into a billion atoms?'

'Well, what do you know? Turns out you're not as stupid as you look, after all.'

Ianto let out a relieved breath. 'Only thirty nine questions to go?'

'Oh, no. You get the option to, oh, how do you humans phrase it? Nope out? You won't make the next round of thirteen questions. Trust me on that. Someone somewhere along the line decided that it wasn't very humane to just shamelessly kill the really stupid ones. Downside is, you don't win a thing.'

Ianto might have laughed out loud but for the absurdity of it. Ianto Jones one, karma nil. 'Then this is me noping out. Living is my preference. That's prize enough for me.'

'You don't want to go for glory?' Gerry sounded surprised.

'I think we know how that would pan out.'

'True. I'd say it's been fun, but well, tedious would be more accurate. I don't enjoy watching people get tortured as much as I used to. Getting soft in my old age, I suppose.'

Ianto shoved his hands in his pockets and looked around the room, waiting for some kind of door to open. 'So, what happens now?'

'We teleport you back to your ship and you head home penniless.'

'But… I didn't come here in a ship.'

'Oh, well. It really isn't your day then, is it?'

Ianto didn't get a chance to argue. The teleport beam snatched him and ejected him into a vacuum of empty space before he even knew what was happening, where his scream was totally inaudible.



Ianto bolted up and gasped. There was a cry of surprise next to him and then he blinked. It was dark, like space, but then again space didn't have curtains letting in just a sliver of moonlight through what was obviously a window. Or a ridiculously gorgeous and very naked man now sitting upright next to him.

'Ianto, you scared the crap out of me!'

'Jack?'

'Who else? Are you okay? You sounded like you were having a nightmare.'

'A bad dream at the very least,' he conceded. Thank God it was only a dream.

Jack reached out hand. 'Wanna talk about it?'

He could hardly deny Jack. He was opening his arms and welcoming Ianto into them which was too tempting to pass up. 'I got beamed up onto this crazy game station where I was stuck in a life or death quiz and I kept getting all the answers wrong.'

Jack chuckled. 'Well, I suppose that's what you get for shamelessly beating everybody else at trivial pursuit last night. No one's going to come over for dinner and a game anymore if you keep wiping the floor with them, Mister Know It All.'

He huffed. It wasn't his fault he knew more than everybody else. Well, maybe not everything if his dream was anything to go by, but still. He would have been happy playing twister, but everybody else knew Jack always cheated. Perhaps next time they should stick to snakes and ladders.