Title: Desperate times
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Ianto, Lisa
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 800 words
Content notes: None
Author notes: Written for Challenge 508 - Anticipation
Summary: Ianto is nervous as hell, but he’ll do whatever it takes.


Ianto pawed through the boxes on the living room floor. It was hard to believe he'd ever owned this much stuff let alone had the wherewithal to manage to get it all packed and shipped to Cardiff in less than a week. Surely he'd never owned this many clothes as he started yanking them from the boxes and tossing them onto the mattress on the floor. There hadn’t been time to buy a bed frame, just a mattress that could be rolled and shipped within a few hours. He wasn’t sleeping much in any event, and he certainly wasn’t sleeping peacefully when he did.

He looked back at the pair of jeans on the mattress. Okay jeans were the easy part but now he had to figure out what to wear with them. That was less easy. He had shirts, t-shirts, shirts that could be worn over t-shirts. God, was he overthinking this? He couldn't be overthinking it. It was the most important thing he was ever going to need to do.

There was movement from the corner of the room where Lisa was half sitting, half lying in a bean bag with cushions propped up under her head. Lying down completely was too painful, she said, so Ianto had done the best he could to make her comfortable with what limited resources he had. Her eyes were half lidded, but it was clear she’d been watching him the whole time.

‘Wear the suit,’ she said, her voice straining around the words.

‘I can't wear the suit.’

‘You want him to take you seriously, don't you?’ she said, finding a little more strength in her second attempt to talk.

He turned to her, his face showing every bit of physical strain and weariness. ‘Of course, but you don't understand.’

Her eyes locked onto his and he felt like he couldn’t move when she looked at him like that. ‘Make me understand.’

He heaved a sigh. ‘I heard talk. About him. Around the Torchwood water cooler. He's not like Yvonne. He doesn't respect authority. He doesn't play the corporate game. He's ex-army, or air force, or something… A soldier.’

‘And soldiers don't wear uniforms?’

‘Well, they'd do but…’

‘But?’

Ianto swallowed hard, trying to explain the rationale going on inside his head. ‘There's other rumours. He's a flirt. He'll flirt with anyone. Anyone,’ he said, underscoring the word. ‘Man, woman…’

‘Alien?’

‘Probably.’

‘So, you're going to flirt to get his attention?’

‘No. That's not what I said.’ He planned on following him around without his knowledge until the right moment presented itself. ‘I just… I don't think going in all suited and serious is going to get his attention. I need to look tough. But not too tough.’

He fingered the studded belt at the bottom of the box and then wondered if that was too much. Mostly it wouldn’t be seen. What would be the harm? Rulebreaker was what it said, not a threat. ‘I know what I'm doing,’ he said, trying to put some authority into his voice. ‘We only get one shot at this, probably.’ If Jack Harkness didn't give him a job then Lisa was on borrowed time. He needed their equipment and resources if he was to have a hope of keeping her alive. Just the thought of having to confront the leader of Torchwood Three made his stomach twist in knots. What if he said no? What if he took one look at Ianto and decided that he wasn’t good enough? What if he took one look at Ianto and decided that Torchwood One was the last thing he wanted anything to do with?

He clenched his jaw and turned away from Lisa, unable to watch her in pain, worrying about what he was about to do. The boxes with his suits folded hastily into them lay unopened on the floor. Lisa was wrong. Torchwood Three wasn’t like Torchwood One. His old life and old look weren’t going to cut it. If anything, it might make things worse. Torchwood Three had a chequered history with the London head office. Each was distrustful of the other, and with some of the things Ianto had seen in the files, who could blame them? He was already at a disadvantage before he’d even begun.

‘You can do this,’ Lisa croaked.

The words sat like a heavy lump in the back of his throat. He wouldn’t cry at the hopelessness of it all. Not in front of the woman who was depending on him to make things right. ‘Please, save your strength,’ he implored, coming over to brush a thumb over her cheek. He could do this. He would do this. Whatever he ended up wearing he wasn’t leaving Cardiff without a foot in the door of Torchwood Three.