Title: Fallout, Part Four
Author: Emma
Characters: A whole bunch of folk.
Rating: Starts PG, but hey, it’s got Jack in it!
Disclaimer: Oh, please. If I owned them, would I let some of those idiots write the scripts? And if I were making any money off them, would I be where they could find me?
Author’s Note: This is Series 3 Fix-it Fic. I dreamed this. It embarrasses me, because, dammit, Series 3 didn’t happen!
Author's Note: Just to make me feel better, I'm going to try an experiment. Short scenes, little narrative, mostly dialog. Let's see what happens.

Part One is here; Part Two is here; Part Three is here

 

            “What is that?”

 

            The Doctor aimed a stream of blue light at Ifan’s eye. “It’s a sonic screwdriver. Useful little thing. Won’t hurt you. Just running a few tests.”

 

            “Sometimes it seems that’s all I’ve known since…”

 

            “Since what?”

 

            The young man shrugged. “I was going to say since the day I was born, but I don’t remember ever being a child.”

 

            “What’s the first thing you remember?”

 

            “Cold. I was in a… nutrient tank… and they were fishing me out. There was a woman there. All I can remember of her is long red nails and a big, ugly signet ring.”

 

            “That’s a bad memory. What else?”

 

            “Not much else. I spent most of the time training. And being tested.”

 

            “Boring sort of life.” The Doctor made some adjustments to the sonic screwdriver and aimed it at Ifan again. “Was that why you left?”

 

            “It wasn’t that… they were trying to do something… wrong. Very wrong.  I knew I had to tell… someone.” He shook his head. “He would know what to do.”

 

            “He who?”

 

            Ifan growled with frustration. “I don’t know!”

 

            The Doctor made soothing noises as he put away the screwdriver. “All right, don’t force it. It’ll come to you when you least expected.”

 

            Ifan put back his t-shirt. “Doctor… what’s he like?”

 

            “Who? The Doctor’s look of innocence wilted under the young man’s level stare. “Why do you want to know?”

 

            “I’m not a fool, Doctor, and I have very sharp hearing. And,” he said with a wicked little smile, “mainframe likes me.”

 

            “Ah. He is… brilliant. Utterly and completely brilliant. And lonely.”

 

            “You love him.”

 

            This time the Doctor did not pretend to misunderstand. “Oh, yes. So did Ianto.”




 
 
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