Torchwood: Fanfic: Tough call

[m_findlow]

Title: Tough call
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack, Ianto
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 2,537 words
Content notes: Set in a future-verse of my own creation
Author notes: Written for m_findlow's prompt "Any, any, fielding someone's phone calls" at fic_promptly
Summary: Jack's back in charge, but it's harder than he remembers

Jack walked into Ianto's office and his heart broke as he found him practically slumped on the desk in front of him, phone wearily held against his ear. It was fortunate since the person on the other end could clearly be heard from several feet away. Any closer and it might have burst an eardrum.

Ianto noticed him and Jack pulled a face, asking who was on the other end of the line. Ianto cupped a hand over the mouthpiece. 'MP for Chester,' he said wearily, barely able to get the words out. He'd been under the weather for days and it only seemed to be getting worse, his voice hoarse, skin pale as snow and barely able to keep his eyes open.

'Give me the phone,' Jack said, reaching out for it, but he was ignored.

'Your constituents won't even know they're there,' Ianto replied, running a hand over his face. There was more garbled speak on the other end of the line.

'No, I'm not suggesting this is a cover up. I-'

Jack grabbed the phone forcefully off him. 'Sorry, who is this?' Jack said. 'MP for Chester, is it? Yes, well Ianto will have to call you back. He's not well, and having to listen to you is not helping matters.' He slammed the phone down before anything more vitriolic could be said.

'Thank you,' Ianto said. 'Probably not the best idea, though.'

'Ianto, come on. You're exhausted. You should be at home resting, not taking calls from every nutter in the country who has a problem.'

He knew that it was to be expected. Their new policy was not going down so well with the powers that be. It didn't seem to matter that they had full support from the Crown. No one was happy about settling alien refugees in their particular part of the country, and the phone hadn't stopped ringing since.

'They're not going to go away,' Ianto said, reaching for the mug of tea on his desk, finding it cold. How long had it been there? More to the point, how long had he been here that he hadn't noticed it had gone completely cold? Cold tea was going to do nothing for the burning ache in his throat.

'Would you please go home? Jack begged. 'You're no good to anyone like this.'

'I can't. I'm the director of Torchwood.'

'And even the director is allowed to take a few days off work sick. Taking a few days off for any reason wouldn't be a bad thing.'

'But,'

'No buts, Ianto. You're five seconds from collapsing on that desk. I'm putting you in a cab and sending you home. For a few days they're all just going to have to get used to dealing with me again.'

Ianto sighed. 'That's what I'm worried about.'

Jack didn't have to wait long for the phone to start ringing again. He only just barely managed to shove his husband out of the door, but not before Jez had formally written him an order saying he wasn't to return to work for at least three days, preferably five. The first call was from some general whose name he didn't recall, requesting details at to why their department specifically hadn't been copied in on the report and the new policy proposed.

'It's not proposed,' Jack said. 'It's fact.'

'But we haven't been allowed to have any input.'

'Your input wasn't required. This is a Torchwood mandate. When it affects UNIT, we'll let you know.'

'But our military coverage is inadequate for what you're proposing. If any of these aliens were to rebel or cause trouble, we wouldn't have the resources in place to stop them.'

'We're not housing rebels,' Jack replied. 'They're peaceful, law abiding folk who just want to settle here and live their lives.'

'You can't know that for sure. I'm requesting that you place this whole business on hold until we've had the opportunity to consult.'

'No consulting,' Jack stated clearly. 'If they want to live in Hull - not that I know why you would - but that's their choice. We're not going to tell them where they can and can't live.'

'You've given me no option then but to take my objections to the Home Office.'

'Take away, General.'

He felt quite pleased after the phone call was over. Captain Jack Harkness, back in action, stamping his authority on the world. Being the head honcho again for a few days would be a snap. Then the phone rang again.

'Yes, hello, Captain Harkness was it? This is Maryann Hopkins from the Department of Immigration. I'm calling about a memo we received with regard to sponsorship of a number of new applicants. I think there might have been an error in the paperwork. I've got the first one listed here as first name Ethlednimdrinerafalcosia, and no surname...'

'Good afternoon. I'm calling from the Bank of England. I believe you were following up some paperwork from our end in relation to a new account you were setting up with us. Now, can I just confirm that was three hundred million pounds as an initial deposit?'

'Oh, hi. Um, sorry to call, but we weren't sure who in your department to speak to. You need a proper switchboard or something. We've just settled into our flat in Margate, lovely by the way, we never saw the ocean on Omega Five, but there was an issue with getting this electricity thing connected...'

'Now listen, I don't care who you are, sonny. You tell that git running your organisation that I will not stand for this kind of control over our government. No one should have power to override policy the way you people do. Whitehall is there for a reason. I'll be lodging a formal complaint with the Prime Minister himself, detailing...'

Before he'd even dropped the phone back on the receiver, it was ringing again, the little light on the side flashing and dancing away.

Jack groaned. 'Torchwood. Captain Jack Harkness speaking.'

'Oh,' came the curt voice. 'I thought I'd phoned Director Jones.'

'You did. He's out of the office.'

'Hmph,' the voice huffed. It sounded vaguely familiar, but Jack couldn't place it. 'Well, I suppose you'll do. You're all the same.'

Jack frowned. 'Who am I speaking with exactly?'

'Giles Stanley. Minister for the Home Office.'

Oh, now he knew why he recognised that haughty English accent. Giles was one of the reasons he'd given up this job in the first place.

'Giles! So nice to hear from you,' - not - he felt like adding. 'I take it you're ringing to complain about our new migration and settlement policy?'

'Yes,' he replied sharply. 'I have very serious concerns.'

'You and everyone else.'

'It's outrageous, to be frank. And come to think of it, I'd much rather speak with the Director,' he added, remembering how much of a nuisance Jack was.

'He's unwell. Not helped by the endless hours of abusive phone calls coming through.'

'You can't just expect people to be happy about this. How would you like it of you had aliens living next door to you, serving you food at a restaurant, teaching your children? Hmm?'

'Actually, we do have alien neighbours. They're nice folk and don't make a lot of noise. Our kids go to a preschool with an alien carer on their payroll, and they all love her to bits, and as for the restaurant, well, you've never had a steak done properly until you've had it cooked the Sarcosian way.'

'Captain, I don't think your taking this seriously.'

'Oh, believe me I am. We have a job to do, so let us do it.'

'Well, that's all well and good that you seem perfectly happy to integrate with these... creatures, but how do you intend to monitor them all across the country?'

'We don't.'

Giles sounded like he'd just choked on a mouthful of tea. 'But they're aliens!'

'And they have social security numbers, work, and pay taxes just like the rest of us.'

'And what about medical care? How is the NHS expected to support them? Are all of our doctors and nurses just meant to treat them like humans?'

'For the most part, yes. Where they are a little bit on the peculiar side, they have full access to our medical team in Cardiff to assist with anything complicated or unusual.'

'And what about emergency treatment? What happens when they're miles from Cardiff? Are they just supposed to call 999 and hope for the best?'

Jack leaned forward on the desk, pushing aside the report he'd tried starting four hours ago. 'Look, I understand it's not perfect, but it covers ninety-nine percent of situations.'

'Does it? And how are they affording to live? How do they get a loan with no credit history?'

Jack sighed. 'Again, if you've read the policy papers, and I'm sure you have - several times - you'll note that we've set aside start up funds. They can get a loan to get themselves going and repay it with interest. And it'll form part of their new credit history.'

'Oh, so now you're a bank as well? I wonder what Treasury thinks of that? Never mind, the point is that we cannot accept aliens living all over the UK. It's just not proper. It's not... Well, it's not British.'

'Mr Stanley, Wales has a population of three million people, and more than a million of them live in Cardiff. There's simply not enough housing and employment in this one city to accommodate everyone who settles here. That's just fact.'

'So, you expect the rest of us to carry your burden? You were the ones who opened up the floodgates to begin with. I can tolerate the odd refugee, but you've allowed anyone who can reach this planet by any means, to stay here indefinitely.'

'Not anyone,' Jack corrected. 'They still have to apply, be checked, screened and approved. I'm not about to let just anyone waltz on in through the front door.'

Giles scoffed again. 'That I doubt. I've already drafted a letter to His Majesty, outlining my reasoning as to why I think Mr Jones is totally unfit for the position as Director of the Institute. In fact, I'm proposing to have the whole organisation brought back under the umbrella of the UK government. No more of this "outside of the government" rubbish that you lot keep spilling on about.'

That set Jack off. No one took a swipe at Ianto. 'Now you listen to me, Giles. There is no one better suited to this job than Ianto Jones. This organisation has done more in the last ten years than your whole government has done in the past two hundred. We have the full support of the Crown and Shadow Proclamation. Any shortcomings in the viability of this policy will be based on the way your office impinges on us enacting this in the way it was intended.'

'Are you suggesting that I'm at fault?'

'I will be, if you stand in our way.'

'This is highly irregular and inappropriate!'

'No, Giles. You stopping us doing our job is inappropriate. You either get on board, or else I'll see to it that you are replaced very quickly. I have a lot of friends that owe me favours.'

'Is that a threat?'

'If it quacks like a duck...'

There was a flustered sound on the end of the phone and then nothing. Jack slumped back in the chair, relieved to have won in a battle of wills. At least for the time being. No wonder Ianto was so run down and exhausted. If he had to put up with this every day, he'd go mental.

The phone rang again. Jack got up and picked it up.

'Hello, you've reached the Torchwood Institute. Sorry we can't take your call right now but please feel free to call back later.' Then, he hung up.

He pushed himself up out of the chair and walked across the hub.

'Heading out, boss?' one of the team asked.

'Yup.' Somewhere above ground there was a triple shot cappuccino, with extra chocolate sprinkles and marshmallows with his name written all over it. Enough to make the memories of self-righteous little public servants disappear.

Three days couldn't go by quick enough. It was a relief just to come home at night, play with the kids, bathe them, put them to bed, and then watch as Ianto slowly regained some colour in his cheeks and strength in his bones.

Walking into the hub and towards his office, he spotted the familiar outline in the office just next door, smiling to himself as he politely knocked, though it wasn't necessary.

'Good to see you back in the land of the living,' Jack said. 'I never realised until now just how right you look, sitting behind that desk.'

'And I never realised how run down I was until I finally stopped and took a break,' he replied. 'You had fun being the boss again while I was away?'

Jack chuckled. 'I’m always the boss.'

'So you insist,' he smiled, knowing that it was very much a shared task. 'The team survived?'

'If you mean did we have to go buy coffee elsewhere, then yes. You didn’t expect us to operate on nothing, did you?'

'I shudder to imagine such a world.'

Jack perched on the corner of Ianto's desk. 'You know, I have to say, being the old me again was harder than I expected. I’m more than happy to hand back the reins and let you deal with all that stuff. I’d much rather get out and about, hunting down aliens, saving the world, letting someone else deal with all the paperwork.'

'And how is that different to any other day?' Ianto quipped.

'Har Har. All I'm saying is that I'm glad to have you back, Director Jones.'

'It's good to be back. So, how many phone calls do I have to make to apologise for my subordinate’s lack of diplomacy? I expect that's all I'm going to be doing today?'

'None.'

'None? Did you unplug the phone from the wall?'

'Ianto, I know you don’t think I can handle all of these stuffed shirts and their petty problems...'

'I never said that. It's more that your lack of patience usually leads to an outcome slightly less favourable than the one we'd have gotten if you'd held your pride in check.'

Jack just rolled his eyes at Ianto, a skill he'd learned from long years of having the same directed at him. He thought he'd been quite restrained. Certainly not the "fly off the handle" yelling that had marked his old tenure as leader of Torchwood. Maybe Ianto was a good influence on him, or perhaps he was just getting soft in his old age. Whatever. Ianto was back now and that was all that mattered. By the time he was briefed on Giles Stanley's so called "issues", Jack dreaded being the one on the other end of the phone when Ianto returned that particular call. The Home Office was going to find out the hard way just how little of a pushover Ianto was.

Comments

[jo02]

I continue to love this future-verse of your :)

[bk_forever]

What a task! No wonder Ianto was so run down; dealing with politicians and bureaucrats would be enough to stress anyone out.

[m-findlow.livejournal.com]

It's a massive job but Ianto is well up to the task. He'll put all those bureaucrats in their place. Jack is just very glad it isn't his domain anymore.