Fic: Weirder Weather
Feb. 2nd, 2026 05:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
badly_knittedTitle: Weirder Weather
Author:
badly_knittedCharacters: Ianto, Jack, OFC.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3520
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Ianto wakes to miserable weather, and that’s only the beginning of his woes.
Written For: Weekend Challenge - All About The Weather at
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
1_million_words.Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
The weather that morning was miserable, depressing, cold, problematic and, as so often happened, because that was Ianto’s life in a nutshell, things only got worse from there.
He knew, almost from the moment he woke up, that it was going to be one of THOSE days, the kind that made him want to crawl back into bed and pull the covers over his head, or better yet, take refuge UNDER the bed. There was a reason his bed had plenty of clearance beneath it; working for Torchwood, sometimes you needed a safe place to hide, even of only to preserve your own sanity.
Anyway, the moment he sat up in bed after shutting off his alarm, he could feel something ominous hanging in the air. But, being a seasoned Torchwood agent, well used to ominous feelings, he got up anyway, pulled his robe on against the distinct chill in his bedroom, and flipped the curtains open to see what the day had to offer. After taking one brief look outside, he flipped them closed again; it was snowing, and he hated snow with a vengeance. No wonder his bedroom was chilly.
He paused, frowning, then stuck his head between the closed curtains for another look, because something about the weather hadn’t looked quite right. He was highly trained, his observational skills honed by years of dealing with the bizarre, so he was well able to notice details other people might miss. He was also more than intelligent enough to know that snowflakes shouldn’t be doing THAT!
Snowflakes traditionally fell to the ground, or sometimes swirled madly around in the wind, plastering themselves against walls, windows, tree trunks, and anyone unfortunate enough to be outside in a raging blizzard, something Ianto had experienced on several memorable occasions. What snowflakes did NOT do was hang perfectly still in midair, going neither downwards, sideways, nor even upwards. Snowflakes were slaves to gravity just the same as anything else that fell or was dropped.
Withdrawing his head from the gap in the curtains, Ianto sighed, realising that even though he would have liked to stay home and turn the heating up, he’d have to get dressed and investigate this bizarre occurrence. Was it a localised phenomenon, the snow just hanging in the air around his little end of terrace house, or was it more widespread? Well, there was a quick way he could answer that question.
Snatching his phone from the nightstand, he hit speed dial one while rummaging through his wardrobe to pick out suitable clothing for the day ahead. Somehow, he didn’t think one of his tailored suits was going to provide adequate protection against the elements, even teamed with his new overcoat.
Jack answered on the fourth ring; no doubt he’d got his phone stuck in his trouser pocket again, tangled up with his keys and other random junk.
“Ianto! Good morning!”
“Not from what I’ve seen so far, it’s not. Is it snowing where you are?” Ianto only lived a mile or so from the Hub, but weather was funny stuff at the best of times, so it was worth asking.
“Ah, well, that depends on your definition of ‘snowing’, doesn’t it.”
“Snowing. Fluffy white flakes of frozen water, falling from the sky.”
“Okay, yes on the fluffy white flakes, no on the falling.”
“Bugger. I was hoping it was just the snow around my house that was behaving out of character. Seems we might have a problem.”
“That’s what I was thinking. Are you coming in?”
“Soon as I’m dressed. I’ll be there in about twenty minutes, assuming I can get my car started. If not, I’ll have to walk.”
“Wrap up warm. It’s freezing out there.”
“There’s snow, so it would be.” Ianto ended the call and tossed his phone on the bed, leaving both hands free for selecting a suitably warm outfit. He kept a few suits and accessories in Jack’s quarters at the Hub, so he could change into one of them once the snow problem was sorted. For now though, jeans, long-sleeved tee, a thick sweater, two pairs of socks, and sturdy hiking boots would be a better choice. And thermal undies, of course. He had no intention of freezing his arse off.
A hot shower, a shave, and a quick mug of coffee later, Ianto exited his house, locked the front door behind him, and stood on the doorstep, under what passed for a porch, wrapped in a warm scarf, tasteful black woollen beanie, and a thick parka with the hood up. He was also clutching a flask of coffee in one gloved hand, because in unnatural weather like this, it was always best to carry sustenance, just in case you became stranded somewhere. He had granola bars in his pockets, even though what he was really craving was a bacon buttie.
He stared out at the still, unfalling snow, each flake suspended in midair, and tentatively poked at one of the closest with a gloved finger. Nudged out of place, it drifted gently to the ground to join the light dusting of snow already there. That was promising. Sort of. At least the snow COULD fall, if given a bit of encouragement. Making his way around to the side of the house, where his car waited beneath the carport, he climbed in, put his flask on the passenger seat, pushed his hood back and started the engine. The sooner he could get to the Hub, the sooner they could get to the bottom of this mystery. He hoped.
Driving through the early morning streets and the curiously static snow was an odd experience. The snow displaced by his car fell, mostly ON his car, meaning the windscreen wipers were kept busy clearing it away, but glancing in his rearview mirror, he could see other snowflakes taking the place of those that managed to fall, as if they’d just been patiently awaiting their turn. It made him wonder if the snow WAS in fact falling, just too slowly to be detectable. Slow Snow. Ianto smiled at the thought.
He passed a few confused pedestrians, and the occasional car driven by grim-faced motorists who appeared to be determinedly trying to ignore the peculiar weather conditions. He silently wished them luck, since the snow didn’t appear to be going anywhere. Literally. It was just… there, which made it difficult to ignore, but Cardiffians were a breed apart. If anyone could pretend this wasn’t happening, it would be them. Once this was over, most of them would conveniently forget it had ever happened, without Torchwood even needing to edit their memories with Retcon. It was a survival trait.
Ianto pulled into the underground garage beneath the Millennium Centre, drove to the lowest level, and keyed his code in on a handheld device to open the secret door into Torchwood’s private garage area. He found Jack waiting for him as he pulled into his parking space.
“What’s it like out there?”
“Peculiar,” Ianto replied, getting out of his car and locking it. “If anything touches the snowflakes, they fall, but then others drop down to take their place. They’re not evenly spaced, it’s as random as any snowfall, it’s more as though time has been slowed right down for the snow, while everything else is existing at normal speed.”
“Are you sure it’s not the other way around, everything else speeded up in relation to the snow?” Jack jammed his hands in his coat pockets.
“If the world had been speeded up by that much, the sun would be halfway across the sky by now, but it’s barely risen. No, it’s the snow that’s being affected. I just have no idea what’s causing the problem.”
“Alien tech. Either that or aliens; take your pick.”
“Personally, I’d prefer the tech option. Tech can be switched off, while aliens would need to be reasoned with and persuaded to stop mucking about with our weather. It’s annoying enough at the best of times, without anyone playing games with it. Unpredictable, fickle, contrary, capricious, and now it’s either on strike or staging a go-slow. Like we need more problems.”
“This is what we’re paid for, Ianto.”
“No, it really isn’t. We’re paid to collect up whatever falls through the Rift, keep it out of the wrong hands, deal with Weevils, lost alien visitors, and hostile invasion forces. We are NOT paid to ensure that snow does what it’s supposed to. We’re Torchwood agents, not meteorologists or weather controllers.”
“Maybe that’s the problem.”
“What, that we don’t have a meteorologist on the team?”
“No, but this could be the result of a badly calibrated weather control device. If one fell through the Rift and was damaged…”
Ianto was already shaking his head. “If that was the case, there would have been a Rift alert, and we’ve accounted for everything that’s come though in the last couple of months; we haven’t had any alerts where we couldn’t locate what was delivered, and if this hypothetical weather control device had arrived that long ago, we would have noticed its effects before now. Which means we still don’t know the cause, and we’re no closer to figuring out a solution than we were before.”
“So, what do you suggest we do?”
“For starters, we should find out the extent of the problem, how far it reaches, then from that data, try to figure out ground zero for the Slow Snow effect.”
“Tosh probably won’t be here for another hour, at least.”
“So we’ll do the investigative work ourselves, learn as much as possible before she arrives.”
Jack sighed. “Fine. I’ll get the keys to the SUV.”
“What for?”
“To do what you said, find out the extent of the problem.”
“I was thinking I’d try checking CCTV cameras across the city first. We know the coordinates for each one, we have them all mapped, so it’ll just be a case of checking the feeds and seeing where it’s snowing normally and where the snowfall is on pause.”
“Oh. Good idea.”
“That’s what I’m paid for. Among other things.”
“And you’re worth every penny.” Jack gave his lover a quick kiss. “Right, let’s get to the bottom of the problem.”
“If that’s even possible.” Ianto followed Jack into the main Hub, and settled down at his workstation, accessing every private security camera he could, as well as the city’s CCTV network, while jotting shorthand notes on a pad.
Jack mostly paced back and forth behind him, occasionally leaning over his shoulder to look at the screen, until Ianto ran out of patience.
“If you can’t think of anything constructive to do, nip across to the café and get me a couple of bacon butties. They should be open by now.”
“Bacon butties. Right. Anything else?”
“No, that should do me for now, but you might want to get yourself something.” Ianto’s eyes never left the screen as he flicked from one camera to the next, starting with those closest to the Hub and working his way outwards.
The best part of an hour and two bacon butties later, Ianto had a rough idea of how far the Slow Snow spread, a radius of approximately three point four miles, centred somewhere in the vicinity of Ruby Street in Splott. Of course it was Splott. Wasn’t it always? Not that Ruby Street and its surroundings was such a bad area: Neat rows of terraced houses fronting directly onto the street but with modest back gardens. There were far worse places to live, even with the only parking being the street itself, the houses having been built long before the people living in them had been able to afford cars. Possibly before cars had even been invented.
With Jack behind the wheel of the SUV, they cruised slowly through the motionless snow, Ianto using the onboard computers in the back in an effort to narrow the search area further.
“Here,” he said at last.
Jack slammed on the brakes, stopping in the middle of the street, effectively blocking it. “Here?” He looked back over his shoulder.
“The exact centre of the circle is in that house right there.” Ianto pointed to a house halfway along the street where the outside walls were painted a dusty pale blue, making it stand out a bit from its neighbours.
“Inside the house?”
“Yes.” Ianto smiled apologetically. “Sorry, I know outside would be more easily accessible, but we’ll just have to knock on the door and hope someone’s home.”
“Aren’t most people still at home at half seven in the morning?”
“Not if they work the nightshift. Or they could be away on holiday, or visiting family, or they have a long commute, so they have to leave home early, or…”
“Alright, you’ve made your point.” Jack pulled out a wallet of business cards. “Who should I be? Gas board, police…”
This time Ianto cut Jack off. “How about Torchwood? People have eyes, and the SUV isn’t exactly inconspicuous. Can’t claim to be the gas board while driving a Range Rover with Torchwood stencilled on both sides of the roof. People would get suspicious. If they aren’t already.”
Reluctantly, Jack tucked the wallet away. “I suppose being ourselves would work, under present circumstances; we can always Retcon the homeowners afterwards.”
“And all their neighbours?”
“The neighbours don’t have to know WHY we were here. Nobody does. We can tell the people who live here that someone reported suspicious activity in the area. That’s vague enough.”
“Vague is usually the best way to go, although this is more a case of suspicious inactivity.” Ianto stared through the car window at the snow that was still stubbornly resisting the temptation to fall.
“Just follow my lead.” Jack opened the car door and stepped out, knocking a hundred or more snowflakes out of the air in the process. From the back of the vehicle, Ianto followed suit, checking the doors were locked. Triple deadlocks were of no use whatsoever if you failed to lock the car in the first place, something he was forever having to tell Jack. Walking to Jack’s left and half a step behind, Ianto followed him to the front door of the house they’d identified as ground zero, and waited while Jack knocked on the door, then rang the bell, then knocked again, until the door was abruptly wrenched open and an irate woman in her late twenties or early thirties stood there glaring out at them.
“What?!”
“Torchwood,” Jack announced, flashing her one of his best smiles. “We’ve been receiving reports of suspicious activity in the area, and we’d just like to ask you a few questions. May we come in, to save letting all this cold air in? We won’t keep you for long.”
The woman looked past them at the very familiar black bulk of the SUV, then sighed and stepped back. “I suppose so, but wipe your feet on the mat. I’m not having snow tracked through my house; I just got the hall floor waxed. It’s taken forever to get everything the way I want it.”
Doing as they were told, Jack and Ianto entered the house, shutting the door firmly behind them, and followed the woman into a tidy kitchen, where she conspicuously avoided offering them a hot drink, even as she picked up her own mug and sipped from it.
“Right, ask your questions, and be quick about it, because I have to get to work.”
“Have you noticed anything… unusual going on in the neighbourhood?” Jack asked, seating himself at the kitchen table, ignoring the fact that the homeowner hadn’t offered him a seat.
“You mean people acting suspiciously?”
“Not necessarily people. Perhaps strange lights in the night, sounds that you haven’t been able to identify or track down,” Ianto suggested.
The woman shook her head. “Nothing like that I can recall, no.”
“How about strange objects, perhaps something you’re not sure where it came from, or what it is?”
“No.” Another shake of her head. “Well, not unless you count the piece of junk the workmen found under the living room floorboards when they took them up to re-do the pipes for the central heating system. Bloody thing was ancient. Good thing the new system’s up and running now, what with all this snow. It was freezing in here before I got that sorted. Like living in an icebox.”
Jack perked up. “Piece of junk? Do you happen to still have it?”
“Course I do. I shoved it in the cupboard under the stairs until the next bulky waste collection event. No clue what it is, mind, or how long it’d been there. It was covered in dust and cobwebs when the workmen hauled it out. I cleaned it up, didn’t want it shedding muck everywhere, but I’ve never seen anything like it. Some kind of old-fashioned contraption, I suppose.”
“Would you mind if we take a look at it?” Jack beamed up at her.
“If you want. Might be something the previous owner shoved under the floor for safekeeping back during the last war. He lived here most of his life, right up until he passed. Must’ve seen some changes around here over the years. I bought the place cheap on account of the work it needed. Complete modernisation. Kitchen, bathroom, new boiler, gas, electrics, plumbing, the works. Even a new roof. I was planning to sell it on, but once I started, I changed my mind, decided to live here and sell the house I was living in before. This one just sits me better.”
The woman rambled on as she led them back into the hallway and started getting things out of the understairs cupboard: Ironing board, clothes airer, vacuum cleaner, stepladder, toolbox, tins of paint, and finally, a bulky object that looked a bit like part of an old ham radio set, only without headphones or microphone, just dials, buttons, switches, readouts, and meters, some of them labelled in something that was definitely NOT English, or even Welsh.
“I wondered if maybe it might be Russian or something,” the woman said. “Tried looking it up online, but I couldn’t find anything that matched. I did think about maybe putting it up for sale on ebay, but then I figured it would just be a hassle. Not like I could post it to the buyer, is it? Would cost more to deliver it than it’s probably worth.”
Ianto crouched down in front of it. “My grandfather had an old ham radio setup when I was a boy,” he told her. Totally untrue, of course. “Used to let me play with it. I love messing around with old electronics, seeing if I can get them working again. If you want rid of it, I’ll happily buy it off you, get it out of your hair, save you having to lug it to the bulky waste collection site. Trying to figure it out would give me something to do on my days off.”
“Well, I suppose, if you want it. I’ll just be glad not to have it taking up space. Might not be a collection for months. Tell you what, fifty quid and it’s yours.”
“Fifty?” Ianto dug out his wallet. “Ah, I’ve only got forty. Jack, can you loan me ten?”
“Sorry, didn’t bring my wallet.”
“Forty’s fine, provided you take it with you. If you have to come back for it, it’ll be sixty. I don’t want to have to get everything out of the cupboard again.”
“Forty it is.” Ianto handed the woman the money. “Give me a hand with it, will you, Jack?”
Still kneeling on the floor, Jack was busily flicking switches and turning dials. “Hm?”
“I said, stop fiddling and help me get it out to the car!”
“Oh. Right.” Standing up, Jack offered the woman his hand. “Thank you for your time. If you do happen to hear or see anything suspicious in the neighbourhood, don’t hesitate to give us a call.” He handed her a business card.
“I’ll be sure to do that.”
As the woman went to open the front door for them, and Jack bent to help Ianto pick up the bulky device, Ianto whispered, “What were you doing with all the switches?”
“Turning it off,” Jack hissed. “The dials were all over the place, she must’ve moved them when she was cleaning it.”
Reaching the door with their heavy burden, they looked out into a swirling blizzard so thick they could barely see the SUV just a few feet away. Almost eight inches of snow had fallen in the space of a few minutes, all the snow that had been waiting to fall having dropped at once when the device was switched off.
“Oh, that’s just perfect!” Ploughing their way through deep drifts to the SUV, Ianto glared at Jack through the falling flakes. “You couldn’t have waited to turn the damn thing off until we were back at the Hub?”
“I didn’t know this would happen!”
Ianto rolled his eyes. “I knew I should’ve stayed in bed this morning!”
The End
He knew, almost from the moment he woke up, that it was going to be one of THOSE days, the kind that made him want to crawl back into bed and pull the covers over his head, or better yet, take refuge UNDER the bed. There was a reason his bed had plenty of clearance beneath it; working for Torchwood, sometimes you needed a safe place to hide, even of only to preserve your own sanity.
Anyway, the moment he sat up in bed after shutting off his alarm, he could feel something ominous hanging in the air. But, being a seasoned Torchwood agent, well used to ominous feelings, he got up anyway, pulled his robe on against the distinct chill in his bedroom, and flipped the curtains open to see what the day had to offer. After taking one brief look outside, he flipped them closed again; it was snowing, and he hated snow with a vengeance. No wonder his bedroom was chilly.
He paused, frowning, then stuck his head between the closed curtains for another look, because something about the weather hadn’t looked quite right. He was highly trained, his observational skills honed by years of dealing with the bizarre, so he was well able to notice details other people might miss. He was also more than intelligent enough to know that snowflakes shouldn’t be doing THAT!
Snowflakes traditionally fell to the ground, or sometimes swirled madly around in the wind, plastering themselves against walls, windows, tree trunks, and anyone unfortunate enough to be outside in a raging blizzard, something Ianto had experienced on several memorable occasions. What snowflakes did NOT do was hang perfectly still in midair, going neither downwards, sideways, nor even upwards. Snowflakes were slaves to gravity just the same as anything else that fell or was dropped.
Withdrawing his head from the gap in the curtains, Ianto sighed, realising that even though he would have liked to stay home and turn the heating up, he’d have to get dressed and investigate this bizarre occurrence. Was it a localised phenomenon, the snow just hanging in the air around his little end of terrace house, or was it more widespread? Well, there was a quick way he could answer that question.
Snatching his phone from the nightstand, he hit speed dial one while rummaging through his wardrobe to pick out suitable clothing for the day ahead. Somehow, he didn’t think one of his tailored suits was going to provide adequate protection against the elements, even teamed with his new overcoat.
Jack answered on the fourth ring; no doubt he’d got his phone stuck in his trouser pocket again, tangled up with his keys and other random junk.
“Ianto! Good morning!”
“Not from what I’ve seen so far, it’s not. Is it snowing where you are?” Ianto only lived a mile or so from the Hub, but weather was funny stuff at the best of times, so it was worth asking.
“Ah, well, that depends on your definition of ‘snowing’, doesn’t it.”
“Snowing. Fluffy white flakes of frozen water, falling from the sky.”
“Okay, yes on the fluffy white flakes, no on the falling.”
“Bugger. I was hoping it was just the snow around my house that was behaving out of character. Seems we might have a problem.”
“That’s what I was thinking. Are you coming in?”
“Soon as I’m dressed. I’ll be there in about twenty minutes, assuming I can get my car started. If not, I’ll have to walk.”
“Wrap up warm. It’s freezing out there.”
“There’s snow, so it would be.” Ianto ended the call and tossed his phone on the bed, leaving both hands free for selecting a suitably warm outfit. He kept a few suits and accessories in Jack’s quarters at the Hub, so he could change into one of them once the snow problem was sorted. For now though, jeans, long-sleeved tee, a thick sweater, two pairs of socks, and sturdy hiking boots would be a better choice. And thermal undies, of course. He had no intention of freezing his arse off.
A hot shower, a shave, and a quick mug of coffee later, Ianto exited his house, locked the front door behind him, and stood on the doorstep, under what passed for a porch, wrapped in a warm scarf, tasteful black woollen beanie, and a thick parka with the hood up. He was also clutching a flask of coffee in one gloved hand, because in unnatural weather like this, it was always best to carry sustenance, just in case you became stranded somewhere. He had granola bars in his pockets, even though what he was really craving was a bacon buttie.
He stared out at the still, unfalling snow, each flake suspended in midair, and tentatively poked at one of the closest with a gloved finger. Nudged out of place, it drifted gently to the ground to join the light dusting of snow already there. That was promising. Sort of. At least the snow COULD fall, if given a bit of encouragement. Making his way around to the side of the house, where his car waited beneath the carport, he climbed in, put his flask on the passenger seat, pushed his hood back and started the engine. The sooner he could get to the Hub, the sooner they could get to the bottom of this mystery. He hoped.
Driving through the early morning streets and the curiously static snow was an odd experience. The snow displaced by his car fell, mostly ON his car, meaning the windscreen wipers were kept busy clearing it away, but glancing in his rearview mirror, he could see other snowflakes taking the place of those that managed to fall, as if they’d just been patiently awaiting their turn. It made him wonder if the snow WAS in fact falling, just too slowly to be detectable. Slow Snow. Ianto smiled at the thought.
He passed a few confused pedestrians, and the occasional car driven by grim-faced motorists who appeared to be determinedly trying to ignore the peculiar weather conditions. He silently wished them luck, since the snow didn’t appear to be going anywhere. Literally. It was just… there, which made it difficult to ignore, but Cardiffians were a breed apart. If anyone could pretend this wasn’t happening, it would be them. Once this was over, most of them would conveniently forget it had ever happened, without Torchwood even needing to edit their memories with Retcon. It was a survival trait.
Ianto pulled into the underground garage beneath the Millennium Centre, drove to the lowest level, and keyed his code in on a handheld device to open the secret door into Torchwood’s private garage area. He found Jack waiting for him as he pulled into his parking space.
“What’s it like out there?”
“Peculiar,” Ianto replied, getting out of his car and locking it. “If anything touches the snowflakes, they fall, but then others drop down to take their place. They’re not evenly spaced, it’s as random as any snowfall, it’s more as though time has been slowed right down for the snow, while everything else is existing at normal speed.”
“Are you sure it’s not the other way around, everything else speeded up in relation to the snow?” Jack jammed his hands in his coat pockets.
“If the world had been speeded up by that much, the sun would be halfway across the sky by now, but it’s barely risen. No, it’s the snow that’s being affected. I just have no idea what’s causing the problem.”
“Alien tech. Either that or aliens; take your pick.”
“Personally, I’d prefer the tech option. Tech can be switched off, while aliens would need to be reasoned with and persuaded to stop mucking about with our weather. It’s annoying enough at the best of times, without anyone playing games with it. Unpredictable, fickle, contrary, capricious, and now it’s either on strike or staging a go-slow. Like we need more problems.”
“This is what we’re paid for, Ianto.”
“No, it really isn’t. We’re paid to collect up whatever falls through the Rift, keep it out of the wrong hands, deal with Weevils, lost alien visitors, and hostile invasion forces. We are NOT paid to ensure that snow does what it’s supposed to. We’re Torchwood agents, not meteorologists or weather controllers.”
“Maybe that’s the problem.”
“What, that we don’t have a meteorologist on the team?”
“No, but this could be the result of a badly calibrated weather control device. If one fell through the Rift and was damaged…”
Ianto was already shaking his head. “If that was the case, there would have been a Rift alert, and we’ve accounted for everything that’s come though in the last couple of months; we haven’t had any alerts where we couldn’t locate what was delivered, and if this hypothetical weather control device had arrived that long ago, we would have noticed its effects before now. Which means we still don’t know the cause, and we’re no closer to figuring out a solution than we were before.”
“So, what do you suggest we do?”
“For starters, we should find out the extent of the problem, how far it reaches, then from that data, try to figure out ground zero for the Slow Snow effect.”
“Tosh probably won’t be here for another hour, at least.”
“So we’ll do the investigative work ourselves, learn as much as possible before she arrives.”
Jack sighed. “Fine. I’ll get the keys to the SUV.”
“What for?”
“To do what you said, find out the extent of the problem.”
“I was thinking I’d try checking CCTV cameras across the city first. We know the coordinates for each one, we have them all mapped, so it’ll just be a case of checking the feeds and seeing where it’s snowing normally and where the snowfall is on pause.”
“Oh. Good idea.”
“That’s what I’m paid for. Among other things.”
“And you’re worth every penny.” Jack gave his lover a quick kiss. “Right, let’s get to the bottom of the problem.”
“If that’s even possible.” Ianto followed Jack into the main Hub, and settled down at his workstation, accessing every private security camera he could, as well as the city’s CCTV network, while jotting shorthand notes on a pad.
Jack mostly paced back and forth behind him, occasionally leaning over his shoulder to look at the screen, until Ianto ran out of patience.
“If you can’t think of anything constructive to do, nip across to the café and get me a couple of bacon butties. They should be open by now.”
“Bacon butties. Right. Anything else?”
“No, that should do me for now, but you might want to get yourself something.” Ianto’s eyes never left the screen as he flicked from one camera to the next, starting with those closest to the Hub and working his way outwards.
The best part of an hour and two bacon butties later, Ianto had a rough idea of how far the Slow Snow spread, a radius of approximately three point four miles, centred somewhere in the vicinity of Ruby Street in Splott. Of course it was Splott. Wasn’t it always? Not that Ruby Street and its surroundings was such a bad area: Neat rows of terraced houses fronting directly onto the street but with modest back gardens. There were far worse places to live, even with the only parking being the street itself, the houses having been built long before the people living in them had been able to afford cars. Possibly before cars had even been invented.
With Jack behind the wheel of the SUV, they cruised slowly through the motionless snow, Ianto using the onboard computers in the back in an effort to narrow the search area further.
“Here,” he said at last.
Jack slammed on the brakes, stopping in the middle of the street, effectively blocking it. “Here?” He looked back over his shoulder.
“The exact centre of the circle is in that house right there.” Ianto pointed to a house halfway along the street where the outside walls were painted a dusty pale blue, making it stand out a bit from its neighbours.
“Inside the house?”
“Yes.” Ianto smiled apologetically. “Sorry, I know outside would be more easily accessible, but we’ll just have to knock on the door and hope someone’s home.”
“Aren’t most people still at home at half seven in the morning?”
“Not if they work the nightshift. Or they could be away on holiday, or visiting family, or they have a long commute, so they have to leave home early, or…”
“Alright, you’ve made your point.” Jack pulled out a wallet of business cards. “Who should I be? Gas board, police…”
This time Ianto cut Jack off. “How about Torchwood? People have eyes, and the SUV isn’t exactly inconspicuous. Can’t claim to be the gas board while driving a Range Rover with Torchwood stencilled on both sides of the roof. People would get suspicious. If they aren’t already.”
Reluctantly, Jack tucked the wallet away. “I suppose being ourselves would work, under present circumstances; we can always Retcon the homeowners afterwards.”
“And all their neighbours?”
“The neighbours don’t have to know WHY we were here. Nobody does. We can tell the people who live here that someone reported suspicious activity in the area. That’s vague enough.”
“Vague is usually the best way to go, although this is more a case of suspicious inactivity.” Ianto stared through the car window at the snow that was still stubbornly resisting the temptation to fall.
“Just follow my lead.” Jack opened the car door and stepped out, knocking a hundred or more snowflakes out of the air in the process. From the back of the vehicle, Ianto followed suit, checking the doors were locked. Triple deadlocks were of no use whatsoever if you failed to lock the car in the first place, something he was forever having to tell Jack. Walking to Jack’s left and half a step behind, Ianto followed him to the front door of the house they’d identified as ground zero, and waited while Jack knocked on the door, then rang the bell, then knocked again, until the door was abruptly wrenched open and an irate woman in her late twenties or early thirties stood there glaring out at them.
“What?!”
“Torchwood,” Jack announced, flashing her one of his best smiles. “We’ve been receiving reports of suspicious activity in the area, and we’d just like to ask you a few questions. May we come in, to save letting all this cold air in? We won’t keep you for long.”
The woman looked past them at the very familiar black bulk of the SUV, then sighed and stepped back. “I suppose so, but wipe your feet on the mat. I’m not having snow tracked through my house; I just got the hall floor waxed. It’s taken forever to get everything the way I want it.”
Doing as they were told, Jack and Ianto entered the house, shutting the door firmly behind them, and followed the woman into a tidy kitchen, where she conspicuously avoided offering them a hot drink, even as she picked up her own mug and sipped from it.
“Right, ask your questions, and be quick about it, because I have to get to work.”
“Have you noticed anything… unusual going on in the neighbourhood?” Jack asked, seating himself at the kitchen table, ignoring the fact that the homeowner hadn’t offered him a seat.
“You mean people acting suspiciously?”
“Not necessarily people. Perhaps strange lights in the night, sounds that you haven’t been able to identify or track down,” Ianto suggested.
The woman shook her head. “Nothing like that I can recall, no.”
“How about strange objects, perhaps something you’re not sure where it came from, or what it is?”
“No.” Another shake of her head. “Well, not unless you count the piece of junk the workmen found under the living room floorboards when they took them up to re-do the pipes for the central heating system. Bloody thing was ancient. Good thing the new system’s up and running now, what with all this snow. It was freezing in here before I got that sorted. Like living in an icebox.”
Jack perked up. “Piece of junk? Do you happen to still have it?”
“Course I do. I shoved it in the cupboard under the stairs until the next bulky waste collection event. No clue what it is, mind, or how long it’d been there. It was covered in dust and cobwebs when the workmen hauled it out. I cleaned it up, didn’t want it shedding muck everywhere, but I’ve never seen anything like it. Some kind of old-fashioned contraption, I suppose.”
“Would you mind if we take a look at it?” Jack beamed up at her.
“If you want. Might be something the previous owner shoved under the floor for safekeeping back during the last war. He lived here most of his life, right up until he passed. Must’ve seen some changes around here over the years. I bought the place cheap on account of the work it needed. Complete modernisation. Kitchen, bathroom, new boiler, gas, electrics, plumbing, the works. Even a new roof. I was planning to sell it on, but once I started, I changed my mind, decided to live here and sell the house I was living in before. This one just sits me better.”
The woman rambled on as she led them back into the hallway and started getting things out of the understairs cupboard: Ironing board, clothes airer, vacuum cleaner, stepladder, toolbox, tins of paint, and finally, a bulky object that looked a bit like part of an old ham radio set, only without headphones or microphone, just dials, buttons, switches, readouts, and meters, some of them labelled in something that was definitely NOT English, or even Welsh.
“I wondered if maybe it might be Russian or something,” the woman said. “Tried looking it up online, but I couldn’t find anything that matched. I did think about maybe putting it up for sale on ebay, but then I figured it would just be a hassle. Not like I could post it to the buyer, is it? Would cost more to deliver it than it’s probably worth.”
Ianto crouched down in front of it. “My grandfather had an old ham radio setup when I was a boy,” he told her. Totally untrue, of course. “Used to let me play with it. I love messing around with old electronics, seeing if I can get them working again. If you want rid of it, I’ll happily buy it off you, get it out of your hair, save you having to lug it to the bulky waste collection site. Trying to figure it out would give me something to do on my days off.”
“Well, I suppose, if you want it. I’ll just be glad not to have it taking up space. Might not be a collection for months. Tell you what, fifty quid and it’s yours.”
“Fifty?” Ianto dug out his wallet. “Ah, I’ve only got forty. Jack, can you loan me ten?”
“Sorry, didn’t bring my wallet.”
“Forty’s fine, provided you take it with you. If you have to come back for it, it’ll be sixty. I don’t want to have to get everything out of the cupboard again.”
“Forty it is.” Ianto handed the woman the money. “Give me a hand with it, will you, Jack?”
Still kneeling on the floor, Jack was busily flicking switches and turning dials. “Hm?”
“I said, stop fiddling and help me get it out to the car!”
“Oh. Right.” Standing up, Jack offered the woman his hand. “Thank you for your time. If you do happen to hear or see anything suspicious in the neighbourhood, don’t hesitate to give us a call.” He handed her a business card.
“I’ll be sure to do that.”
As the woman went to open the front door for them, and Jack bent to help Ianto pick up the bulky device, Ianto whispered, “What were you doing with all the switches?”
“Turning it off,” Jack hissed. “The dials were all over the place, she must’ve moved them when she was cleaning it.”
Reaching the door with their heavy burden, they looked out into a swirling blizzard so thick they could barely see the SUV just a few feet away. Almost eight inches of snow had fallen in the space of a few minutes, all the snow that had been waiting to fall having dropped at once when the device was switched off.
“Oh, that’s just perfect!” Ploughing their way through deep drifts to the SUV, Ianto glared at Jack through the falling flakes. “You couldn’t have waited to turn the damn thing off until we were back at the Hub?”
“I didn’t know this would happen!”
Ianto rolled his eyes. “I knew I should’ve stayed in bed this morning!”
The End
(no subject)
Date: 2026-02-02 11:18 pm (UTC)