Pairings: Jack/Ianto, Ianto/Lisa, also eventual hints of Gwen/Rhys, Owen/Tosh
Rating: R (some later chapters NC-17)
Disclaimer: Torchwood is not mine. No matter how much I sometimes wish it was.
Spoilers: Better say everything through s2, just to be sure. Begins pre-S1.
Summary: Owen and Ianto run a few tests, but things don't go as planned...
Thanks to: My beta cazmalfoy for all her wonderful work, and my cheerleaders angelzbabe1989 and piper08 for putting up with me when I whine about being stuck. Extra special thanks to Caz for a section in this chapter - she knows which part ;)
Author's Note: Happy New Year everyone! First chapter of 2009! 'Normal' posting service will probably be resumed next Wednesday.
All comments and concrit welcomed!
Fic starts here
All previous chapters
Ianto hovered protectively, gripping Lisa’s hand as Owen located an accessible vein to draw a blood sample.
“You know tea-boy, I have actually done this before,” Owen commented teasingly. “There’s no need to look so worried.”
Ianto glared mildly at the medic, responding to both the teasing and the nickname. Owen had been using the moniker for nearly three weeks, starting shortly after the team had discovered Ianto’s talents with the coffee machine. Ianto had refrained from pointing out that he didn’t, in fact, deliver tea, knowing the nickname wasn’t being used disparagingly - at least, not consciously it wasn’t.
Lisa’s hand tightened almost imperceptibly around his as Owen slid a needle into her leg and clicked a tube to collect the blood in place. He dropped his head to meet her sleepy gaze, rubbing a thumb comfortingly over the bare skin on the back of her hand.
“Just a couple more and we’re done,” Owen smiled, drawing on every ounce of bedside manner he could.
He watched as the final tube filled, catching Ianto’s best effort at a reassuring face from the corner of his eye. “Here,” he wrapped a hand around Ianto’s free wrist, tugging his hand across to where he was withdrawing the needle from Lisa’s flesh.
“Hold this.” Gathering up the blood draw equipment, he pressed Ianto’s fingers to the dressing over the puncture.
Ianto was startled momentarily, before flattening his fingers confidently over the square of padded gauze. He studied Lisa’s face for a few seconds, relieved to find no unusual distress or pain marring her features. He felt her fingers squeezing his hand again, the message in the gesture unmistakable – ‘I’m okay.’
Owen turned back to them, his vials all labelled, and, quickly checking the wound from the blood draw, covered it with a colourful children’s plaster.
“Barbie?” Ianto asked, raising an eyebrow at Owen’s choice of plasters.
The doctor looked up, meeting Ianto’s eyes challengingly. “They’re not ‘Barbie’,” he scowled. “They’re ‘Action Man’.”
Ianto rolled his eyes, “It’s still an anatomically incorrect doll.”
Owen glared at him for a long moment, before his professional mask slipped back into place. “You ready for this next part?” he asked both Ianto and Lisa.
Lisa nodded minutely, utilising the full range of head movement allowed by the life-support unit - Ianto refused to continue using the name ‘conversion unit’. Owen directed his glance at him, and he echoed Lisa’s consent.
Owen and Ianto crossed the room to a large machine they had, with the rest of the team’s help, constructed over the past few days. It somewhat resembled a contemporary MRI or CAT scanner, but was equipped with slightly more advanced technology and had been constructed such that it could be used on Lisa without attempting to remove her from the unit.
Just like an MRI scan, the full body scan Owen wanted to perform on Lisa would be a lengthy process. Staying still throughout the procedure wouldn’t be a problem, but both Owen and Ianto had concerns about making Lisa feel further trapped in the slightly claustrophobic interior of the scanner for an extended period of time. They had offered her the option of a mild sedative, but Lisa had silently, yet resolutely, refused; she’d had enough of sedation.
Dragging the large machine over, they connected up the data recorder. Once the scan was complete, the results would be sent to the Hub’s network to be loaded into a program Tosh was working on that would – hopefully – allow them to visualise the data in a manner more familiar to Owen than the streams of numbers the scanner exported natively.
If the Rift stayed reasonably quiet, as it had thankfully been doing since Ianto joined, the program would be complete and ready for Owen’s examination by the end of the following day – or sooner, if Tosh’s sheer determination counted for anything.
Locking gazes with Lisa once more, Ianto projected all the calm he could muster before the scanning machine came between them as it surrounded Lisa’s head.
As expected, the scan took nearly an hour, during which Ianto resumed his hovering. He stood close to Lisa’s head, ready to rush into action (although he would admit that he hadn’t quite decided what action) should she show any sign of distress.
They had just disconnected the machine and shifted it away from Lisa when there was a loud noise from the main Hub.
The Rift alarm had gone off.