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fandomweekly2024-09-06 07:06 pm
badly_knitted) wrote in fandomweekly2024-09-06 07:06 pm
Entry tags:
[#232] Chance Of A Lifetime (Torchwood)
Theme Prompt: #232 – Coffee Shop
Title: Chance Of A Lifetime
Fandom: Torchwood
Rating/Warnings: PG
Bonus: No.
Word Count: 1000
Summary: A young man who has fallen on hard times mistakes Jack and Ianto’s TARDIS for a coffee shop.
Ianto and Jack’s TARDIS had found the perfect place to park herself in the busy city of Kerpucnica, a convenient alley between buildings that really didn’t lead anywhere. It looked like there had once been a door at the far end, but it had been sealed up many years ago, judging by the age of the stonework. Now, like so many alleys in cities throughout the universe, it seemed to mostly be used as a convenient spot to dump rubbish.
Since they were in the middle of a city, one where any greenery was confined to a few parks, her favoured tree form would have been out of place, so instead the TARDIS had simply disguised herself as a nondescript door in a wall, plain wood, silvery and weathered, with a neat and unassuming black doorknob.
They’d come to Loovan’s World, and Kerpucnica itself, to meet with some of Ianto’s less reputable friends at the thriving backstreet market that had evolved in this rundown sector of the city. Here, anyone could sell anything, legal or not, provided they paid their dues to the councillor for trade, who was happy to turn a blind eye or ten for a cut of the profits. Their business had been concluded late the previous night, so this morning Jack and Ianto were debating whether to explore the city’s other attractions before embarking on their next adventure.
While they made up their minds, listening to what their TARDIS could tell them about the various places of interest that might appeal to them, Ianto brewed coffee using the old coffee machine that had once sat in the Hub. The console room was filled with the delicious aroma of fresh coffee, and the breakfast Jack had whipped up for them in the small kitchen just along the nearest of the corridors that radiated out from the spacious, wooden-floored room, with its small tables and comfortable chairs.
Ianto was just setting their coffee mugs down on their favourite table when the TARDIS’s door swung open and a young man stepped in, blinking in the dimness of the interior. He was a couple of inches shorter than Ianto and his husband, with long, glossy, blue-black hair, copper-coloured skin, and striking green eyes, humanoid, but definitely not human, a Xanthemorian, if Ianto wasn’t mistaken. The tips of catlike ears poked through his hair, and his bare feet were like paws, although the three fingers and thumb on each hand were long and dextrous.
“Hello.” Ianto said in Galactic Standard, smiling pleasantly.
“Um, hello,” the young man replied. “Is this Nacherine’s Coffee Shop? I’m looking for work and someone told me there were jobs to be had. I was given directions, but I got a bit lost, then I smelled coffee so I followed my nose…” His ears drooped in self-deprecation. “I think I might have got my zooch mixed up with my narfan,” he admitted sheepishly.
That was hardly surprising since the local terms for ‘left’ and ‘right’ were interchangeable, depending on context, so unless you spoke Loovanese like a native, following directions could be rather hit and miss.
“No,” Ianto replied, smiling to show he wasn’t offended, “I’m afraid this isn’t a coffee shop, not technically, although I can quite understand your confusion.”
“Oh, well, I’m sorry to have bothered you.” The young man’s whole body seemed to droop then, a combination of weariness and disappointment. “I suppose I’d better go back the way I came and try the other direction.”
“Sit, and take some breakfast with us first,” Ianto invited. “There’s plenty to go around. My husband always cooks too much. I keep telling him he’s going to make me fat.” He indicated a comfortable chair. “I’m Ianto, and that’s Jack.”
“Raffi. That’s me.” Their unexpected visitor hesitated. “I don’t wish to intrude.”
“You’re not,” Jack said cheerfully. “Come, eat with us, Raffi, and tell us what brings you here, so far from your homeworld.”
“Well, if you’re sure. I am rather hungry.”
That was an understatement. The Xanthemorian’s clothes, though clean and carefully mended, hung off his thin body, and there were scars visible on his bare arms. When Jack pushed a plate towards him, the youngster dug in ravenously, as if he hadn’t had a decent meal in weeks, which might well have been the case.
The three of them ate in silence for a while, except for the occasional request to pass this or that, but when their plates were empty and Ianto had poured them all another coffee, Jack settled back, cradling his mug in both hands, and gave Raffi an encouraging smile.
“So, you said you were looking for a job?”
“Yes. Things have been a bit… difficult lately. I was taking some time off from my studies to travel, see a bit of the universe. At the spaceport on Calexxia, I was offered a job aboard a passenger liner, which I accepted, but when the ship docked here, the captain refused to pay me, even though I had worked throughout the voyage. Now I’m stuck here with no money, and I was hoping to get a job at the coffee shop until I can find a ship heading for Xanthemoria that will let me work in exchange for passage.”
“Well, perhaps we can help you.” Jack beamed at Raffi over the rim of his coffee mug. “Because while this may not be a coffee shop as such, she IS our spaceship.”
Raffi’s eyes widened in disbelief. “A spaceship?”
“Yes.” Ianto picked up the coffee pot. “Well, technically a space and time ship. More coffee?”
“You travel through time as well as space?”
“Wherever and whenever,” Jack assured Raffi.
“I think I might need something stronger than coffee.”
Ianto nodded. “I’ll get the brandy.”
“So,” said Jack, with his widest, whitest smile. “How would you like to travel with us for a bit and REALLY see the universe before we drop you back home? It beats working in a coffee shop.”
“Yes, please!”
The End
Since they were in the middle of a city, one where any greenery was confined to a few parks, her favoured tree form would have been out of place, so instead the TARDIS had simply disguised herself as a nondescript door in a wall, plain wood, silvery and weathered, with a neat and unassuming black doorknob.
They’d come to Loovan’s World, and Kerpucnica itself, to meet with some of Ianto’s less reputable friends at the thriving backstreet market that had evolved in this rundown sector of the city. Here, anyone could sell anything, legal or not, provided they paid their dues to the councillor for trade, who was happy to turn a blind eye or ten for a cut of the profits. Their business had been concluded late the previous night, so this morning Jack and Ianto were debating whether to explore the city’s other attractions before embarking on their next adventure.
While they made up their minds, listening to what their TARDIS could tell them about the various places of interest that might appeal to them, Ianto brewed coffee using the old coffee machine that had once sat in the Hub. The console room was filled with the delicious aroma of fresh coffee, and the breakfast Jack had whipped up for them in the small kitchen just along the nearest of the corridors that radiated out from the spacious, wooden-floored room, with its small tables and comfortable chairs.
Ianto was just setting their coffee mugs down on their favourite table when the TARDIS’s door swung open and a young man stepped in, blinking in the dimness of the interior. He was a couple of inches shorter than Ianto and his husband, with long, glossy, blue-black hair, copper-coloured skin, and striking green eyes, humanoid, but definitely not human, a Xanthemorian, if Ianto wasn’t mistaken. The tips of catlike ears poked through his hair, and his bare feet were like paws, although the three fingers and thumb on each hand were long and dextrous.
“Hello.” Ianto said in Galactic Standard, smiling pleasantly.
“Um, hello,” the young man replied. “Is this Nacherine’s Coffee Shop? I’m looking for work and someone told me there were jobs to be had. I was given directions, but I got a bit lost, then I smelled coffee so I followed my nose…” His ears drooped in self-deprecation. “I think I might have got my zooch mixed up with my narfan,” he admitted sheepishly.
That was hardly surprising since the local terms for ‘left’ and ‘right’ were interchangeable, depending on context, so unless you spoke Loovanese like a native, following directions could be rather hit and miss.
“No,” Ianto replied, smiling to show he wasn’t offended, “I’m afraid this isn’t a coffee shop, not technically, although I can quite understand your confusion.”
“Oh, well, I’m sorry to have bothered you.” The young man’s whole body seemed to droop then, a combination of weariness and disappointment. “I suppose I’d better go back the way I came and try the other direction.”
“Sit, and take some breakfast with us first,” Ianto invited. “There’s plenty to go around. My husband always cooks too much. I keep telling him he’s going to make me fat.” He indicated a comfortable chair. “I’m Ianto, and that’s Jack.”
“Raffi. That’s me.” Their unexpected visitor hesitated. “I don’t wish to intrude.”
“You’re not,” Jack said cheerfully. “Come, eat with us, Raffi, and tell us what brings you here, so far from your homeworld.”
“Well, if you’re sure. I am rather hungry.”
That was an understatement. The Xanthemorian’s clothes, though clean and carefully mended, hung off his thin body, and there were scars visible on his bare arms. When Jack pushed a plate towards him, the youngster dug in ravenously, as if he hadn’t had a decent meal in weeks, which might well have been the case.
The three of them ate in silence for a while, except for the occasional request to pass this or that, but when their plates were empty and Ianto had poured them all another coffee, Jack settled back, cradling his mug in both hands, and gave Raffi an encouraging smile.
“So, you said you were looking for a job?”
“Yes. Things have been a bit… difficult lately. I was taking some time off from my studies to travel, see a bit of the universe. At the spaceport on Calexxia, I was offered a job aboard a passenger liner, which I accepted, but when the ship docked here, the captain refused to pay me, even though I had worked throughout the voyage. Now I’m stuck here with no money, and I was hoping to get a job at the coffee shop until I can find a ship heading for Xanthemoria that will let me work in exchange for passage.”
“Well, perhaps we can help you.” Jack beamed at Raffi over the rim of his coffee mug. “Because while this may not be a coffee shop as such, she IS our spaceship.”
Raffi’s eyes widened in disbelief. “A spaceship?”
“Yes.” Ianto picked up the coffee pot. “Well, technically a space and time ship. More coffee?”
“You travel through time as well as space?”
“Wherever and whenever,” Jack assured Raffi.
“I think I might need something stronger than coffee.”
Ianto nodded. “I’ll get the brandy.”
“So,” said Jack, with his widest, whitest smile. “How would you like to travel with us for a bit and REALLY see the universe before we drop you back home? It beats working in a coffee shop.”
“Yes, please!”
The End