Title: Idle hands
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 1,702 words
Content notes: None
Author notes: Written for Challenge 440 - Mischief
Summary: After a long stint away from Cardiff, Ianto worries what state the place will be in.


As Ianto stepped off the plane and made his way through the stream of passengers all clamouring for the luggage carousels, the worries of collecting suitcases were far from his mind. After three weeks of hopping from one city to the next, he was mostly just glad to be home again, even if he still had a three hour drive back to Cardiff ahead of him. The idea of another layover for such a small hop from London to Cardiff was too much. There was only so much of being trapped in the thin metallic shell of something loaded up with tonnes of highly flammable jet fuel that a person could take. He was okay with flying for the most part. Once they'd made it through the take off phase, he could relax in the comfort of knowing most things went wrong in that first twenty minutes.

Speaking of things going wrong, he reminded himself, narrowly avoiding being jostled by a man three times his size, his worries began to mount about other things. What state would the hub be in when he got there? More importantly, what state would the city be in? He'd left the team strict instructions not to get into any mischief, but what chance that they'd listen to him, or even be able to influence that outcome?
He may have been in charge these days but he still managed to keep a tightly run ship. He may not have had the time to personally clean up everyone's mess – in the literal sense, anyway – but he kept to a strict system if checking in with his team to make sure that they were regularly taking inventory of what they had and what they needed, and getting things ordered so that they were never caught short. He even had to keep tabs on Jack who had eased up on things now that he wasn't ultimately in charge.

He hated to think what might have happened on Jack's watch. Not that Jack wasn’t the most capable person he could possibly have running things in his stead. After all, Jack had a hundred years of practice at the task. He’d been ostensibly running things around Cardiff for far longer than Ianto had even been alive. It was simply that Jack ran things in his own unique way, which was different, though not a million miles apart, from how Ianto had gotten accustomed to running things. He had a lot more Torchwood branches to keep under control than Jack ever had. That took a different style to keep things moving smoothly.

The main questions that buzzed in Ianto’s mind as he ignored travelators in preference to his own two feet, were ho would be tidying up at the scene, making sure all evidence of aliens – and Torchwood – had been removed, and everything put back exactly how it was beforehand. Exactly how it was; not just close enough, but inch perfect, or as perfect as you could be certain if you hadn't seen what the place looked like before chaos had erupted.

The kitchen would be a mess, for sure, he knew. There'd be a sink full of dirty mugs and plates, a bin overflowing with pizza boxes and the smell of days old curry, droplets of water, milk and other unknown liquids spattered on the bench top, a fridge that would be equal parts desolate and science experiment, and gunk all over the inner walls of the microwave. God help them if they'd touched his coffee machine. He'd tried once to teach a few of them how to use it properly, but for all their brilliance at their jobs, no one had passed the Ianto Jones School of Barista Artistry. The kettle was going to need descaling, he thought, adding it to a list of things to expect when he got there. There'd be random bits of technology and equipment all over the place. The archives themselves should be okay. He'd taught Penny well, and she was the meticulous type who would file things just the way he liked them. Whether she could wrangle things back from her teammates once they were finished with them was another matter.

Reaching the luggage carousel, and knowing he was safest to wait until the majority had elbowed their way to the front, he resisted the urge to pass the time waiting doing a check of social media. Had Adelaide been thorough in wiping or altering anything that had happened? Had the team stuck to all of the strict operating protocols he insisted upon or had Johnson thrown caution to the wind and done things her own way? What backlash might that have drawn from Gwen or Jack, assuming either of them were there at the time. And, perhaps of lesser importance in the grand scheme of things, how many noses of interagency contacts had Jack put out of joint, having to deal with them and remain calm and diplomatic? It almost didn't bear thinking about. Perhaps he was better off postponing his return, telling the team that yet another conference had popped up at which his attendance would be expected.

He finally noticed his suitcase doing a lone journey around the conveyor, having gotten lost in his thoughts whilst all the others had been gathered and their respective owners having dispersed, moving over to collect it and proceed toward the long term parking to collect his car. Once there he flipped the radio straight over to a local London station, unable to listen to Radio Wales in case their news report told him something he didn't want to hear. He could remain ignorant for a little while longer, putting off the inevitable.

He pulled into the underground car park some time later, having fully inured himself for a world of chaos, and was surprised to find all four cars, plus the SUV, parked in their spots. Everyone at the hub all at once? Perhaps they'd been locked in by the system, though wouldn't someone have called to tell him if that were the case? On the drive through the city it appeared to all be just how he'd left it, with people going innocently about their day as if living on a rift in time and space was just a silly unfounded rumour.

He looked up at the tiny security camera and the door opened, wandering down the dimly lit corridor towards the main hub and listening for the sounds of something going wrong, but all he heard was the click of his shoes on concrete and the whirring sound of luggage wheels as he dragged it behind him. When the door slid open in front of him, he held his breath and braced for impact.

‘Oh, thank the gods you're back!’ Jack said, rushing towards him and enveloping him in a bear hug.

‘What’s happening?’ Ianto said, turning immediately to business at the sound of Jack’s relief that he was here to take back charge of things. He needed an update and he needed it fast.

‘Nothing!’

Ianto blinked, unsure if he’d misheard. Usually when Jack used the word “nothing” it was delivered in a tone that meant “I’ve done something that you haven’t found out about yet, but you’re not going to be happy when you do.” Today he didn’t get any vibes of underhanded guilt.

Jack wrapped him back up in a secondary hug. ‘I thought I was going to go crazy. Who knew I’d miss you this much.’

Ianto began returning the hug. ‘I should go away more often if you miss me that much.’ He took in the hub over Jack’s shoulder, spotting several of his team quietly working away at their desks, offering a smile or a little wave here and there. The hub was a complete state of calm. Weird. Ianto reluctantly pulled away. ‘In fact, I have to say I'm amazed at the state of this place. It's immaculate. Have you been cleaning for days to get it to look like this?’

Jack seemed confused by the question, brow furrowing. ‘We haven't done anything.’

‘It looks how it was when I left. How can that be possible?’

Jack threw his arms wide in disbelief. ‘Nothing has happened. Literally nothing the entire time you’ve been away. It's like somebody flicked a switch. We actually ran some tests to check if the rift hadn't closed itself up.’

‘And has it?’

There was a trademark grin. ‘Nope. Fortunately we're all still gainfully employed.’

Part of Ianto wanted to feel vexed about it. Why couldn't it be quiet like that when he wanted to catch up on things, or better yet, plan a trip that was more holiday than it was work. It hardly seemed fair.
‘This is real, isn’t it?’ he asked. ‘Not some practical joke you've been cooking up for a week to lull me into a false sense of security?’

‘I wish that it were. That would have at least given us something to do to fill in the time. I don't think I've ever been as up to date with all my admin as I am right now. Ever. Not in the last century.’

It was Ianto’s turn to grin. ‘Well, wonders never cease. Maybe I should go away more often if that’s the case.’

Jack was about to say something, hopefully along the lines of declaring that he never wanted Ianto to even leave his side ever again, but he was interrupted by a series of bleeps from computers all around the hub.

‘We’ve got a rift alert!’ Johnson called out. ‘Looks like a big one.’

Jack whooped with joy. ‘About time!’

Ianto curved an eyebrow at him. ‘About time?’ What kind of madness was that? Who cheered for the unexpected lunacy of a rift alert? Exactly how bored had they been?

‘Ditch that suitcase and gear up,’ Jack said, temporarily forgetting that it was usually Ianto who gave them the green light to go out. ‘I've missed you, but I'm not gonna miss this for the world, so you're coming too.’

Ianto rolled his eyes. At least the rift hadn't forgotten how to cause mischief. It had just waited for him to come home first.