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Entry tags:
Fandomweekly Challenge 225 - Plausible deniability
Title: Plausible deniability
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Ianto
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 1,000 words
Content notes:
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Ianto
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 1,000 words
Content notes:
Rating/Warnings: PG. Post-canon AU.
Author notes: Written for Challenge 225 - Alibi at![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomweekly
Author notes: Written for Challenge 225 - Alibi at
fandomweeklySummary: Ianto is on his own in a tight jam.
As soon as the bars clanged shut in front of him, Ianto knew he was in big trouble. He turned around to inspect the tiny accommodations, finding his cell already occupied. On the lower bunk, a scruffy looking creature lay there and cracked open one lazy eye. Ianto gave it a small wave and it just nodded and then resumed its napping. Well, he supposed at least if it wasn’t friendly it hadn’t been unfriendly. More of a conscious acknowledgement that they’d both been here before and that being banged up in a cell wasn't anything to be too concerned about.
Except Ianto was concerned. It wasn’t his first time behind bars, and it likely wouldn’t be his last time behind them either. Only every other time he’d wound up arrested on some ridiculous charge, he had Jack to blame for getting him into trouble in the first place. When Ianto was arrested, Jack would likewise be arrested, and then it would fall to Jack to convince, charm or bribe their way out of it. Jack was good at things like that. He knew the prison systems on most of the major planetary systems because he’d been incarcerated in most of them at some point in his life – at least twice. That was the price you paid for being a time travelling con man.
He stood at the bars for a while, just taking in the natural flow of the place. Some prisons were more strict than others, not allowing the inmates to utter a sound, where in others they were allowed to roam freely within the confines of the main prison building and only retire to their cells when they wanted to, or when they were locked down for bad behaviour. This place seemed to fall somewhere in the middle, judging by the fact that the guard on patrol banged his nightstick against the bars of Ianto’s cell on the fourth passing by it, clearly uncomfortable with the way Ianto's eyes were surveying the place. He probably assumed Ianto was looking for weaknesses in the system that he could exploit the moment someone opened his cell door. Ianto took the rattling of his bars as a message: get back from the door. Ianto accpeted the suggestion, not wanting to cause any more trouble for himself and instead clambered up onto the top bunk and lay there, nose only a few inches from the roof.
He shouldn’t be here, he knew, trying to find a comfortable spot as he lay on the thin mattress and failing. It wasn’t that he hadn’t done anything wrong. On the contrary, he knew he’d done something worthy of being arrested. It was the getting caught part that annoyed him. A bit of bad luck was all it took for things to go awry, and to find himself in hot water without a leg to stand on. The trouble was that Jack wasn’t here to bail him out this time. Jack didn’t even know where he was, or why he’d suddenly disappeared. He’d be mad as hell when he did find out, assuming that was possible.
You got yourself into this, you get yourself out of it, Ianto told himself. He should never have said yes in the first place to going on a covert mission on behalf of the Shadow Proclamation. He and Jack did a lot of work for them, though mostly it was diplomatic liaison style assignments where the stakes were high and needed someone who didn’t have any skin in the game. Being approached to handle an incredibly sensitive undercover job wasn’t something Ianto expected to be asked to do. That sounded much more like something up Jack’s alley, but his handler had been very clear, almost to the point of being frightening. You cannot tell anyone the work you are doing, not even your husband. That had very nearly been a dealbreaker. How could he not tell Jack what he was doing? How could he just leave in the middle of the night and not say where he was going or why, leaving Jack frantic and worrying about him. He didn’t doubt that Jack would eventually figure it out, or twist enough arms – maybe even break a few – to get to the bottom of it. Ianto simply didn’t take off anywhere, ever.
Ianto’s biggest concern however was what happened next. He knew enough about his assignment that he could never admit what he’d really been doing and who he’d been working for. The entire fragile system of peace in this part of the universe would crumble if he confessed. His handlers would wash their hands of him before giving him an alibi for why he’d been here, caught doing what he’d been doing. They’d made that clear from the beginning and though it hadn’t sat comfortably, he knew just how important a task it was and what it would mean if he pulled it off. It wasn’t any inflated sense of ego that drove him, only a desire to build a stronger sense of peace and unity, even if achieving that meant doing some decidedly undesirable things. Perhaps even murder.
He mulled over his situation. He hadn’t been caught red-handed, but he was going to have a hard time trying to deny his involvement. That they’d found him and arrested him suggested someone had known something from the beginning. Perhaps the greatest alibi in the world wasn’t going to get him off if that were the case. He didn’t think the Shadow Proclamation would have set him up to take the fall; he’d done too many other assignments for them that had gotten them out of many a sticky political situation. It was why they kept coming back to ask him and Jack to help. Except this time there was no help coming. He’d accepted that risk when he’d said yes. He’d have to invent his own plausible deniability or it was going to be a long eternity behind bars.
As soon as the bars clanged shut in front of him, Ianto knew he was in big trouble. He turned around to inspect the tiny accommodations, finding his cell already occupied. On the lower bunk, a scruffy looking creature lay there and cracked open one lazy eye. Ianto gave it a small wave and it just nodded and then resumed its napping. Well, he supposed at least if it wasn’t friendly it hadn’t been unfriendly. More of a conscious acknowledgement that they’d both been here before and that being banged up in a cell wasn't anything to be too concerned about.
Except Ianto was concerned. It wasn’t his first time behind bars, and it likely wouldn’t be his last time behind them either. Only every other time he’d wound up arrested on some ridiculous charge, he had Jack to blame for getting him into trouble in the first place. When Ianto was arrested, Jack would likewise be arrested, and then it would fall to Jack to convince, charm or bribe their way out of it. Jack was good at things like that. He knew the prison systems on most of the major planetary systems because he’d been incarcerated in most of them at some point in his life – at least twice. That was the price you paid for being a time travelling con man.
He stood at the bars for a while, just taking in the natural flow of the place. Some prisons were more strict than others, not allowing the inmates to utter a sound, where in others they were allowed to roam freely within the confines of the main prison building and only retire to their cells when they wanted to, or when they were locked down for bad behaviour. This place seemed to fall somewhere in the middle, judging by the fact that the guard on patrol banged his nightstick against the bars of Ianto’s cell on the fourth passing by it, clearly uncomfortable with the way Ianto's eyes were surveying the place. He probably assumed Ianto was looking for weaknesses in the system that he could exploit the moment someone opened his cell door. Ianto took the rattling of his bars as a message: get back from the door. Ianto accpeted the suggestion, not wanting to cause any more trouble for himself and instead clambered up onto the top bunk and lay there, nose only a few inches from the roof.
He shouldn’t be here, he knew, trying to find a comfortable spot as he lay on the thin mattress and failing. It wasn’t that he hadn’t done anything wrong. On the contrary, he knew he’d done something worthy of being arrested. It was the getting caught part that annoyed him. A bit of bad luck was all it took for things to go awry, and to find himself in hot water without a leg to stand on. The trouble was that Jack wasn’t here to bail him out this time. Jack didn’t even know where he was, or why he’d suddenly disappeared. He’d be mad as hell when he did find out, assuming that was possible.
You got yourself into this, you get yourself out of it, Ianto told himself. He should never have said yes in the first place to going on a covert mission on behalf of the Shadow Proclamation. He and Jack did a lot of work for them, though mostly it was diplomatic liaison style assignments where the stakes were high and needed someone who didn’t have any skin in the game. Being approached to handle an incredibly sensitive undercover job wasn’t something Ianto expected to be asked to do. That sounded much more like something up Jack’s alley, but his handler had been very clear, almost to the point of being frightening. You cannot tell anyone the work you are doing, not even your husband. That had very nearly been a dealbreaker. How could he not tell Jack what he was doing? How could he just leave in the middle of the night and not say where he was going or why, leaving Jack frantic and worrying about him. He didn’t doubt that Jack would eventually figure it out, or twist enough arms – maybe even break a few – to get to the bottom of it. Ianto simply didn’t take off anywhere, ever.
Ianto’s biggest concern however was what happened next. He knew enough about his assignment that he could never admit what he’d really been doing and who he’d been working for. The entire fragile system of peace in this part of the universe would crumble if he confessed. His handlers would wash their hands of him before giving him an alibi for why he’d been here, caught doing what he’d been doing. They’d made that clear from the beginning and though it hadn’t sat comfortably, he knew just how important a task it was and what it would mean if he pulled it off. It wasn’t any inflated sense of ego that drove him, only a desire to build a stronger sense of peace and unity, even if achieving that meant doing some decidedly undesirable things. Perhaps even murder.
He mulled over his situation. He hadn’t been caught red-handed, but he was going to have a hard time trying to deny his involvement. That they’d found him and arrested him suggested someone had known something from the beginning. Perhaps the greatest alibi in the world wasn’t going to get him off if that were the case. He didn’t think the Shadow Proclamation would have set him up to take the fall; he’d done too many other assignments for them that had gotten them out of many a sticky political situation. It was why they kept coming back to ask him and Jack to help. Except this time there was no help coming. He’d accepted that risk when he’d said yes. He’d have to invent his own plausible deniability or it was going to be a long eternity behind bars.