Why the Rift had to be so contrary, Ianto would never understand. He’d long since decided it must have some degree of sentience, because there didn’t seem to be any more logical explanation for the things it did. Sometimes it seemed determined to make retrieving whatever it delivered as difficult as possible, like it actively delighted in leaving objects in the most inaccessible places it could find.

Like last week, when it left a small piece of tech sitting precariously on a window ledge twenty-three floors up the Capital Tower. It was easy enough to see through the office window, but impossible to get at from inside because the windows didn’t open. Jack had been forced to rappel down to it from the roof, then climb back up again.

Then there was the small metal ring helpfully left beneath a pile of crushed cars in a junkyard, and the stuffed toy cat that was delivered to the top of one of the tallest trees in Bute Park. The local crows had taken exception to its presence, and had been busy mobbing it when the team had arrived. Ianto had found climbing up to get it less than fun, although the crows had seemed to appreciate the toy’s removal. And now…

“You’re absolutely sure it’s down there?” Ianto asked, shrugging into the straps holding his air tanks and making sure everything was secure. At times like this, he found himself wishing he had gills so he wouldn’t have to don full scuba gear just to fetch something from the bottom of a lake.

“Yes,” Tosh confirmed. “It’s there, whatever IT happens to be. I can’t get a clear reading on it.” She shook her scanner in the time-honoured tradition of people everywhere trying to make technology cooperate. “I think the depth of the water must be interfering with reception. All I can tell you for sure is that it’s metal of some kind.”

“Better just drag up whatever you find down there until you get the right thing,” Jack said helpfully.

“Wonderful, an underwater scavenger hunt. With an audience, no less.” Settling the diving mask over his eyes, Ianto fitted the regulator into his mouth and took a couple of breaths before flapping his way to the water’s edge on his flippered feet and jumping in, trying to ignore the interested visitors to Tredelerch Park who were avidly watching his every move. It was a sunny Saturday in mid-May, so it seemed like half of Cardiff had decided to take the air, including a number of anglers lining the banks nearby, casting their lines into the water. He could only hope no one accidentally hooked him. He didn’t want to wind up being catch of the day.

Half an hour of underwater exploration netted the team three shopping trolleys, two complete bicycles, and seven assorted bicycle wheels, a length of rusty chain that looked like it ought to have an anchor attached to it, part of a bedframe, a wrought iron gate, what Ianto hoped was the spare wheel from a car, and not one of the other four, two sets of police handcuffs, and a saw. What he didn’t locate was whatever had fallen through the Rift.

Sitting on the bank, flippers still in the water, he took the regulator out of his mouth and looked up at Tosh. “You’re sure it’s still down there?”

“Quite sure. It hasn’t moved an inch.” Tosh gave him a sympathetic smile. “Sorry.”

Ianto heaved a resigned sigh. “Not your fault.”

“Maybe you need to swim out a bit further,” Jack suggested.

“Maybe.”

Torchwood’s Captain smiled brightly at his lover. “Might be easier to find now, with all this junk out of the way. Back down you go, Mister Jones!”

“You just like seeing me swimming around in scuba gear,” Ianto grumbled.

“I do like the wetsuit look. It’s very… form-fitting.” Jack raked his gaze over Ianto from head to flippers and back again, grinning. “Looks good on you.”

Behind his diving mask, Ianto rolled his eyes, then replaced his regulator and slipped back into the lake, following Jack’s suggestion that he swim out further.

This time he got mostly smaller items: a car radiator grille, a fridge door, four saucepans that didn’t match, one saucepan lid that didn’t fit any of the saucepans, nine hubcaps, a cast iron frying pan, a stop sign, a broken fishing rod, a lump hammer, the remains of an old-fashioned pram, a bucket with a hole in it, two umbrella skeletons, a cookie cutter, a metal breadbin, a large, heavy padlock, an old boot, the kind with a steel toecap, eleven empty tin cans, and several random bits of unidentifiable metallic junk. Nothing like a bit of variety!

“Did I get it this time?” Ianto asked wearily, dumping his latest load onto the bank and hauling himself out of the water. “Please tell me I got it.” He really didn’t want to go down yet again.

Tosh ran her scanner over the mesh bag Ianto had filled with his smaller finds, and smiled as it beeped.

“Yes, it’s here! Empty in out and let’s see what we’ve got.” She sounded excited, no doubt hoping for an interesting piece of technology she could play with.

As Ianto emptied the bag, Tosh scanned each item in turn, until she found the one emanating Rift energy. She looked at it. So did Ianto. He picked it up, turning it over in his hands.

“Well, that’s a bit of an anticlimax, don’t you think? All that trouble for a cookie cutter shaped like some kind of fish. I’ve got half a mind to throw it back. Too small.”

“You wouldn’t do that!” Tosh exclaimed. “It would be illegal dumping!”

“You’re right, I wouldn’t. I’d only have to go back in and fetch it again, and I’ve had more than enough diving for one day. Speaking of illegal dumping though…” Ianto trailed off, gesturing at the collection of assorted junk lying on the grass. “We can’t just leave all this here, and we’ll never fit everything in the SUV. Not to mention it’s rusty, slimy, and smells a bit rank.”

Jack took charge, now that most of the work had been done. “Gwen, call your husband, have him bring transport. We’ll donate this lot to a junkyard, all except the thing we came for.”

“We should probably give the handcuffs back to the police,” Ianto said.

“Right.” Jack nodded. “Send them back where they belong. I’ll let you handle that after you’ve changed. If I show up in DI Swanson’s office with two pairs of handcuffs, she might get the wrong idea. She’s more likely to trust you.”

“Great. More work. Any chance you’ll allow me to have coffee first, maybe a bite to eat, Sir? It must be around lunchtime by now.”

Jack winced. “Yes, sorry, I didn’t mean right away. I don’t suppose the police are in any rush to get their handcuffs back. Just… take them next time you’re going that way. No need to make a special trip. You’ve already done more than your share today. Take the afternoon off, if you like…”

Ianto laughed. “Hark at you, falling over yourself to sound like you weren’t really ordering me around. You’re still the boss though, it’s your job to issue orders, make the rest of us do all the work.” He smirked. “It’s my job to make you feel bad about it. Keep your ego in check.”

“Cheeky!”

“You love it. And I’ll tell you what else you’ll love.”

“What’s that?”

“Helping me peel myself out of this wetsuit.”

“Oh yes, now that’s my kind of work!” Jack turned to the other members of the team. “The rest of you, stay here and load the lorry when Rhys gets here. I’ll take Ianto to the Hub and help him get changed, then I’ll come back for you.”

“No you bloody well won’t!” Owen snapped. “You leave here and that’s the last we’ll see of you today. We’ll end up ‘aving to hitch a ride back with the junkheap here.”

“Sorry, Jack,” Ianto told his lover, grinning. “You’ll have to wait to have fun until the work’s finished.” He looked down at the rubber wetsuit. “And so will I, because I’m not taking this off until I can hop straight under the shower.” He shrugged out of the air tank straps, then removed his flippers. “I’ll just put these in the boot and towel off, then I can help with the loading.”

Jack pouted, but there wasn’t anything he could do, not with the audience of onlookers watching their every move. Ianto was openminded, but he had his limits.

“Fine, have it your way.”

Ianto smiled to himself as he made his way towards the SUV; it did Jack good to be kept on his toes. Later, when they got back to the Hub, he’d drag his lover under the shower for a bit of fun to make up for his disappointment. That kind of underwater activity was a whole lot more enjoyable than rooting around at the bottom of a murky lake, dredging up junk, and trying to avoid the hungry pike that kept looming at him out of the gloom. Next time, Jack could wear the wetsuit and Ianto would be the one standing on the bank!


The End