Torchwood: Fanfic: A Christmas Tale - Part six

[m_findlow]

Title: A Christmas Tale
Author: m_findlow
Characters: Torchwood Team
Rating: PG
Length: 22,304 words
Prompt: Torchwood_fest Prompt #6, submitted by badly_knitted(Members of the team have to assist Santa's elves by temporarily becoming elves themselves)
Summary: Santa is in trouble, can Torchwood save the day?

It was the fourth street Jack had accomplished deliveries for. He had to admit, he even thought he might be getting the hang of it now. As the sleigh pulled up on the sleet covered rooftop, Jack jumped out, reaching back for the bundle of gifts. He made his way along the rooftop, feeling quite pleased with himself, just as a particularly slippery patch of ice caught him underfoot. His boot slipped out from under him, but just as he was sure he was about to topple off the slanted roof and fall to his death, or worse, serious injury, something grabbed him and arrested his fall.

Blitzen's teeth dug heavily into the back of Jack's coat, pulling him back.

When Jack managed to regain his footing, he turned to the grumpy reindeer.

'Thanks buddy. You just saved my bacon.'

Blitzen grunted back a response, halfway between what Jack took to be "you're welcome" and "you klutz".

'See, you do like me after all,' Jack joked. 'Extra brownie points for you with Vixen, now eh?' He whispered in the reindeer's ear.

 

 

If the scene in the infirmary had surprised Owen, given all his experience in A and E, it was a right shock to Gwen. Nothing in her days in the police force, or time with Torchwood had prepared her for this. In one corner she could see a woman huddling with a small child, feverish and covered in red spots. Dozens more were strewn about her in various states but all with the same telltale marks on their hands and arms. She suddenly felt very helpless.

She caught sight of Owen among the throng, busily working away. She sympathised with him. For all of his cocky, brash, and sometime just plain rudeness, he was very good at what he did, and based on what she could see, she didn't envy his predicament one bit.

'Owen,' she called out.

'Hey.'

'Any luck?'

'Still running tests. If I could figure out what it was and where it came from, we'd have a hope of trying to develop a treatment.'

'Can I help?'

'We've checked out the place where Jessie was working but there was nothing.'

'What about her home?'

'Other side of the city. We haven't had time with only the two of us here.'

'Tosh and I could go and check things out.' Gwen tapped her comms on.

'Tosh, how are you going down there?'

'I think we've nearly got it. The programming is back online. Just running a few more diagnostic checks before we put the machine on at full capacity.'

'Okay. When you're done can you meet me downstairs? I want to check out a few places around the city and could use a hand.'

'Sure thing. Give me twenty minutes.'

'Thanks, Tosh.'

 

'Urgh,' Jack groaned.

'What's wrong?'

'The snacks for Santa. Cookies, mince pies, scones, cupcakes, fruit loaf,' Jack recited. 'I don't know how he does it. Every house? No wonder he's fat and jolly. Any more and I think I'm going to be sick.'

'Not like you to pass up another biscuit. I'm forever restocking the jar.'

'This is on a slightly larger scale than a few extra chocolate hobnobs,' Jack qualified. 'And just for the record, I'm not the only culprit. Owen and Gwen eat more than their fair share as well.'

'Snap lock bags,' Brady interrupted.

'What?'

'There's a compartment at the front of the sleigh for snap lock bags. You put the extra cookies in there, and the milk can go down the sink.'

'Ah ha! Knew there was a trick to it.'

'Good,' Ianto said to Brady. 'He eats enough junk food as it is.'

 

 

Outside on the streets it had begun to snow and the wind had become fierce and bitter. Both girls pulled their coats and scarves tighter around them and ploughed through the few inches of snow that lined the ground,  listening to the sound of it as it crunched underneath their feet, the only sound to be heard in the unnerving silence.

The streets were empty and it looked like the last place you'd expect to find the heart of the North Pole. Now it looked dark and bleak, like a Russian winter had passed over the town.

Several streets along and they came across the first living being. A male elf, maybe early forties, at least in human terms, with dark, short cropped hair, wending his way through the snow with a satchel.

'Hello!' Gwen called out, waving a hand, her bright smile showing between the bottom of her beanie and the top of her scarf.

The man spun to see the two of them and gave a frightened look.

'It's okay, we don't mean you any harm.'

The man began hurrying along down the street and into one of the neat rows of town houses without so much as a backward glance.

'I thought they were supposed to be friendly,' Gwen said. 'Do you think we should knock? Make sure he's okay?'

'I think the whole city is suffering from an unknown illness and he's just seen two complete strangers. Wouldn't you be hesitant to make contact?'

Tosh had a very good point. 'You're right. Okay, let's keep going,' she said, forcing her shoes through the slush. She wasn't sure if she imagined it or whether a curtain twitched as they passed the house the elf had sought refuge in, and the eyes that followed them down the length of the street.

 

 

Despite this being possibly the single most unique experience of his life, Ianto could feel his eyes drooping shut as he leaned an elbow on the console in front of him. He'd been busy monitoring both Jack and Santa whilst Brady had gone to check in with Rhys and Fletcher, updating inventory levels and production statistics. That was nearly an hour ago and both Jack and Santa were busily delivering gifts. Brady had returned a short time ago leaving Ianto with little else to do but await instruction. The lack of anything else to do was sending his brain to sleep.

'Cocoa?'

'Huh?' Ianto tuned and saw Brady standing there with a tray containing two mugs and a plate of biscuits. He hadn't even noticed him leave the room, let alone reappear laden with beverages. Was this what it was like for the team, having coffee just magically appear when they least expected it, but most needed it? No one ever fixed him a coffee, a tea occasionally, but that was more because anyone caught touching his coffee machine would suffer the consequences if they broke it. Admittedly, he could get used to this.

'Thanks.' It wasn't coffee, but right now anything hot and sugary would do the trick.

 

 

Owen had been watching Sandy bustling about the infirmary with a determined efficiency. He hadn't seen anything like it since his days as a junior doctor, watching some of consultants marching about. Most of the junior doctors liked to have a bit of a lark between patients, but you could always guarantee that just as you were about to deliver the punchline to your best joke, a consultant would appear from nowhere and kill it dead flat.

At the same time, he found Sandy quite attractive, and had she not been an elf, he could see himself asking her out for a drink afterwards. There was something beyond just the physical attraction, though he couldn't quite place it, but it intrigued him. Tired of fantasising about what he could do if things were different, he decided to focus on what things were actual fact. He casually made his way over, just as she was undoing a blood pressure cuff from an elderly looking elf with a thick white beard.

'How's it going?'

At first she said nothing and continued about her duties.

'Listen, I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to push you about the blood samples.'

'It's okay. I think maybe I overreacted too.'

She sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled the carving out of her pocket again, running her fingers over the well worn surface.

'You never did tell me how it is that you've been caring for all these elves, but you yourself aren't sick.'

'I know I haven't told you.' she said, keeping her head down and focused on the carving, before heaving a sigh and setting it on the nearby counter.

She afforded him a sad look, pulling up her sleeve and showing him the tiny red spots adorning her arm.

'Sorry Owen. I'm not immune, I just haven't gotten that sick yet.'

His expression turned serious.

'How long have you been showing symptoms?'

'Two days.'

'And the average time for and elf to go from symptomatic to comatose,'  he let the rest of the sentence trail off

'48 to 72 hours,' she finished.

 

 

The small townhouse was near the edge of the city limits. It was quaint but modern on the inside, and reminded Gwen of the very first flat she'd lived in after she'd moved out and started at college, before she'd met Rhys. It had all the telltale hallmarks of a girl living on her own, but still holding on to the vestiges of her youth in the way the place was furnished and the casual way items were strewn about the place, without being messy. Gwen would have marked her as a bit new age and a bit of a hippie.

They spend twenty minutes perusing the few rooms that made up the house, inspecting kitchen cupboards and bathroom cabinets, discarded clothing and the like. Nothing stood out that indicated anything untoward. Gwen was in the lounge when the tapping sound caught her attention. She looked around for the source but it stopped.

'Tosh, did you hear that?'

Tap tap tap.

'There it is again.'

'The window,' Tosh said, pointing, 'look.'

Sat on the narrow ledge was a bird with soft grey plumage, tapping on the glass pane, and becoming more insistent. Tosh walked slowly over, loosening the catch and gently lifted the window upwards. The bird didn't hesitate in fluttering over to a nearby table, on which sat a small perch and a plate of seed.

'Must be a pet,' Gwen observed as the bird fed, then made itself comfortable.

'Poor thing's probably been trying to get in for days. It had no idea she'd be away for so long. I'll leave the window open a little bit, just in case it wants to go back outside, but I think it might stay here a while.'

'Doesn't look like there's anything else useful here,' Gwen stated. 'The pair of boots by the door are pretty heavy duty and look like they've seen plenty of use. We're not far from the edge of the city so let's take a look.'

 

 

Jack crept quietly into the lounge room where the tree sat proud and tall next to the fireplace.

He didn't notice the small lump curled up on the sofa nearby as he started placing the gifts under the tree.

'You're not Santa,' said the tiny voice.

Jack turned at the sound,

Ianto also heard the sound over Jack's comms. 'What's that?'

'We've got a live one,' he reported.

She must have been about eight or nine years old, even rugged up in her dressing gown and slippers she was still tiny.

'Yes I am,' Jack replied to her initial question.

'No you're not. Santa wears a red suit, not a silly coat.'

'You don't like the coat?'

'I like the coat,' Ianto added.

'And he's fatter than you.'

'Also not a bad thing,' Ianto confirmed.

Jack tried not to let the commentary in his ear distract him.

'But I am Santa.'

'If you're really Santa then what's my name?'

'Emily Stevens. And he she has a little brother called Fraser,' Ianto informed him. Jack grinned on the inside.  Ianto to was worth his weight in gold.

'I think the more important question, Emily, is whether you're going to tell your little brother I'm here.'

'You really are Santa!'

'You know what? I'm going to let you in on a little secret, since you're such a clever girl. I'm not really Santa. My name's Jack.'

'Like Jack Frost?'

'Yup.'

'Told you it was a good name,' added Ianto.

Brady overheard what was happening and started having conniptions.

'No! He's going off message! He can't do that!'

Ianto shushed him for a moment. 'Just trust him.'

Jack sat down on the sofa and pulled the little girl into his lap.

'See, Santa had some trouble this year and all the elves got sick, so he needed someone to help him deliver all the gifts and make sure that none of the little boys and girls missed out on their presents this year.'

'So you're Santa's helper?'

'I sure am.'

'Will Santa's elves be okay?' she asked worriedly.

'He's got a very special doctor looking after them.'

'Good,' she replied sleepily.

'Okay, well I've got a lot more presents to deliver so do you promise to go back to sleep now?'

'Mmm hmm,' she agreed as he lay her back down and covered her with the blanket.

'Will you tell Santa I hope his elves are feeling better?'

'I will. Merry Christmas, Emily.'

'Merry Christmas, Jack.'

 

 

Rhys was really in his element now. This was just like work, only on a much grander scale and far more interesting. The only thing missing now was Ruth to bring him a cup of tea and some biscuits.

And, as an added bonus, he even got to boss Jack around a bit.

'Who taught you how to pack a sleigh? Honestly. First gifts in, last gifts out. Wouldn't give you a job working at Harwoods.'

'What I lack in logistical prowess, I make up for with my matinee idol looks and rugged charm.'

'Well you won't be charming me. Happily married man here.'

'Offer's open if you ever change your mind. I'm sure Gwen wouldn't mind.'

'You can leave Gwen out of this, thank you very much.'

'Can we get back to work please?' came Ianto's voice over their comms. 'I don't really want to have to explain to my sister how you went to bed last night and work up the next morning with a black eye. And I happen to agree with Rhys. Keep your hands to yourself.'

'You guys are no fun,' Jack sulked.

 

 

Ianto hadn't noticed it as first, more so because Brady was the sort of reserved individual that Ianto could relate to. They could have spent an age working in the same room without verbal communication. And secondly, because they had become like ships in the night. When Santa returned, Brady would head down to the loading area and coordinate the next batch of deliveries. As soon as he was off again, Ianto would switch places with him and help Jack to load his own, Rhys helping to make sure all the right gifts went in the right sleigh.

It wasn't until Santa's calling in for a report from Base Camp, that Ianto realised Brady wasn't answering.

'Brady,' he called out. He didn't respond. He was still sitting upright in his chair, but he seemed a million miles away.

He pulled off his headset and walked over. 'Brady!' he called again, this time shaking the elf's shoulder.

'Huh? What?'

'Are you okay?' It seemed like a stupid question. One look at his face and Ianto could tell he was definitely not okay.

'Don't feel so clever,' he admitted.

'Take off your jacket.'

'Why?'

'Just do it.' Ianto wasn't usually so forceful but there was no one else here to help. No sooner than he had the jacket off, Ianto was unbuttoning his shirt cuff and rolling it up to inspect his arm. Angry red dots covered it from elbow to wrist.

'How long have you had these?'

'Don't know,' he replied vaguely. 'They weren't there when I dressed yesterday morning.'

'That's two days ago!'

'I've been busy! Santa's empire doesn't run itself!'

'Sorry,' Ianto apologised. Poor Brady looked awful, his skin terribly pale under his white blond hair, a feat almost impossible.

'Come on, let's get you to the infirmary.'

'No, I need to stay here,' he protested.

'You can't stay here. You're sick and you need medical attention.'

A wave of nausea came over him, sending chills up and down his spine, and he couldn't argue the point any longer.

'You'll have to take over Christmas.'

'What? No! I can't. I'm just the admin guy!'

Brady smiled weakly at him. 'You're more than just admin. If I had to entrust Christmas to anyone, I'm glad it's you.'

Ianto didn't have time to enjoy the compliment. No sooner was it out if Brady's mouth then Brady's eyes slipped shut and he slumped unconscious in the chair.

 

 

Sandy could feel herself beginning to shake noticeably. She was just so cold. And her head was spinning. She gripped the edge of the nearest bed and tried to hold herself upright. Owen noticed her and the expression on her face as she squeezed her eyes tightly shut, attempting to stop the room from moving around her.

'Hey,' came the gentle voice and the firm arm around her waist. 'You need to sit down.'

'I'm okay, I just,' she didn't get a chance to finish her sentence as she too collapsed to the floor unconscious.

Continues at part seven...  http://m-findlow.livejournal.com/81007.html

Comments

[bk_forever]

Only for Jack would serious injury be considered worse than death!

Just what is infecting the Elf population? I wondered it the contagion might have started with the bird at Jessie's house, but maybe that was a red herring. Things really aren't looking good though. It's lucky that Santa isn't an elf.

There had to be at least one child waking up and seeing Jack!