Title: Fragile, Handle With Care
Fandom: Torchwood
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Jack.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1356
Spoilers: Set in my Ghost of a Chance ‘Verse.
Summary: Ianto and Jack are getting some additional cargo loaded into their ship, but there are a few things Jack has neglected to tell Ianto about.
Content Notes: None needed.
Written For: Challenge 389: Fragile.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.



“Ianto! Be careful!”

Jack’s shout stopped Ianto in his tracks, and he turned a withering glare on his lover.

“Give it a rest, Jack! I won’t break; I’m no more fragile than you are these days. Immortal, remember?”

Not entirely unbreakable of course, not any more than Jack was, but any damage he incurred would heal fast and completely, and anyway, Ianto was still a lot more careful with his own safety than Jack was. He didn’t throw himself willy-nilly into danger; it was months since he’d last suffered a significant injury, whereas Jack had died, again, only last week. Loading a few crates of miscellanea into the cargo hold of their ship was well within his capabilities. The worst that could happen was that he might, horror of horrors, get a splinter!

“I know you’re not fragile, I never said you were!” Jack jumped from the side of the loading ramp to join his lover. “But that is.” He pointed to the crate Ianto had been about to pick up.

“Oh.” All Ianto’s irritation with his partner fell away, the returned in a rush. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I just did, although I didn’t think I’d have to. It has the symbols for Handle With Care printed all over it.” Jack indicated a number of greyish brown smears adorning the wooden crate.

“That’s what those are?” Ianto raised an eyebrow. “I thought they were mud spatter.”

“They are. I meant the other markings, the ones under the mud.”

They were barely visible, curious symbols that looked a bit like musical notes, printed in grey.

Ianto sighed again. “You know I don’t read Genooskian writing!” There were so many languages in the universe, and Ianto was doing his best to learn as many as he could, but he hadn’t got around to that one yet.

“Right, sorry. You pick everything up so fast, sometimes I forget you don’t know everything yet.”

“If it was so important to handle this crate with care, why did you disappear when the time came to load everything?” He and Jack had been picking up some additional items for trade since they still had a bit of room in one of the smaller holds. It never hurt to make a bit of profit on the side during cargo runs.

“I went to get a stasis web for it.” Jack held up a complicated mesh of straps and emitters attached to a small, flat device. “Took me longer than I expected because it wasn’t where I thought I’d left it the last time I used it.”

“Stasis web, huh? Never heard of that before.”

“They don’t get used much these days. Most fragile items are transported in specialized stasis crates which generate their own internal stasis field. There are still a few places that don’t have that technology though, so most cargo ships carry a few stasis webs. Strap one on the outside of a crate, turn it on, and you could throw it down a mountain without damaging the contents.”

Ianto studied the web dangling from Jack’s hand. “Nifty. Want a hand strapping it on?”

“Yes, please. It’s a lot easier with two pairs of hands. One of these…” Jack pointed to something that resembled a small beanbag, “needs to go over each corner of the crate. The web contracts or expands to fit the crate’s dimensions. The control panel should go on one of the sides, so it’s accessible when the crate is stowed.” Jack looked thoughtful. “We should probably put this onee in our quarters, where we can keep an eye on it.”

“I thought the stasis web was supposed to protect it during transport.”

“It is, and it will, but it’s smaller than the other crates, and if we stack it right at the top we’ll have to climb to check the readouts, make sure the web’s functioning properly. If a corner piece gets jostled loose it might lose its integrity, and all we’ll end up with then is bits.”

“Bits of what? You haven’t even told me what’s in here.” Ianto helped Jack untangle the web, pressing a beanbag to each of the top corners on his side. They moulded themselves to fit, sticking firmly in place.

“Two dozen Vidrazzian spun glass flowers, some of the most exquisite glass sculptures ever created. Each one is unique, hand-crafted by skilled artisans. We had one come through the Rift once, remember? You were amazed that it hadn’t broken on arrival.”

“I remember. I gave it to Tosh; she adored it.” Ianto smiled at the memory.

“They’ll fetch high prices at the fine arts auction on Sancheval Station. I’ve got certificates of authentication for all of them.”

“Where did you manage to find them? I didn’t see anything of the sort at the market.”

“While you were re-stocking our food supplies, I nipped into a bankruptcy sale. Picked up some real bargains.”

Ianto rolled his eyes. “Ah, so that’s where you wandered off to! Left me juggling a dozen bags and an antigrav trolley. You know those things are a nightmare for one person to steer.”

Jack winced. “Sorry, but I overheard someone talking about the sale, couldn’t let a chance like that slip by!”

“And you’re sure the contents of this crate are undamaged? I mean, if it’s been transported from the saleroom in town all the way out to the spaceport along those muddy tracks the people around here call roads…” Ianto trailed off, smoothing the stasis web down the side of the crate, straightening the straps.

“I had this lot and the other items I picked up brought out here by a company that specialises in transporting delicate items. Their vehicles are basically stasis units on wheels. You could build a house of cards in one, drive around the planet ten times, over the roughest roads imaginable, and not have a single card shift even a fraction of a millimetre. It’s a company I’ve used before; they’re pricey, but worth it; they get the job done and they pride themselves on never having damaged anything in their care.” Jack fitted the last corner piece to his side of the crate and the straps slipped smoothly underneath it as the control panel lit up and a series of lights turned blue. “Right, all set. We can move it now.” He stepped back.

“By ‘we’ I assume you mean me.”

“You were about to move it before I stopped you. Don’t let me stand in your way. You can take that up to our quarters while I load the rest into the hold.”

“You want me to carry this all the way up to our stateroom by myself?”

“Why not?”

“If I put my back out…” Ianto carefully hefted the crate. “Oh!” It wasn’t a featherweight, but it didn’t weigh much more than an empty crate would have.

“Spun glass, remember?” Jack was grinning. “You can manage that, right? I mean you said it yourself; you’re not fragile.”

“Yes, I can manage.” Ianto rolled his eyes. “But I want all the rest of your purchases stowed by the time I get back. Got it?”

“Yes, Sir!” Jack snapped off a salute.

Shaking his head, Ianto set off up the ramp. He wondered if Jack would let him keep one of the delicate glass sculptures for himself. It would be a reminder of the flower that had found its way to Cardiff, and the delight on Tosh’s face when he’d told her she could take it home with her, something that was seldom permitted.

Somewhere back in Cardiff, that sculpture was probably packed away with the rest of Tosh’s things in a storage locker. Perhaps someday he and Jack could go back there and retrieve it, if it hadn’t been broken when his friend’s life was boxed up after her death. He could ask later, once the Happy Wanderer was underway. Right now they had cargo to deliver; the life of an independent haulier was a busy one, involving a lot of hard work, but that was okay. Ianto couldn’t think of a better way to explore the universe.


The End