Characters: Ianto, mentions Jack and Team.
Summary: After a long and tiring day, Ianto retreats to his favourite place to relax and unwind.
Word Count: 562
Written For: My own prompt ‘Any, any, Wind through the trees,’ at fic_promptly.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters. They belong to the BBC.
Ianto sits, completely relaxed, on a high branch and listens to the soft susurrus of the wind through the leaves that surround him. It reminds him of the sound of the sea, waves washing up on the shore, then receding, the water dragging pebbles and sand with it. He loves both sounds, they’re equally peaceful and soothing, but being up a tree beats lazing around on a beach. For one thing, there’s no danger of getting sand in your clothes, and for another, in late spring and summer nobody can see him way up here.
This is his favourite place for escaping from the rest of the world. Jack has his rooftops, and Ianto has trees. There are plenty of them in Cardiff’s parks, but Ianto thinks he likes this one the best. It’s certainly one of the tallest, and its branches are broad, making them comfortable enough to sit astride for long periods, with his back leaning against the trunk.
Far down below him, the ground is invisible, hidden from him by the leaves that conceal him from anyone passing below. If this were a game of hide and seek, even Jack probably wouldn’t be able to find him, not even using his usual methods of cheating. But they’re not playing games, and Ianto isn’t really hiding, it’s just that it’s been a hot day with a lot of running around, and now with evening approaching a light breeze is getting up. When he left the Hub, Ianto couldn’t face being indoors; he needed some fresh air, and where better to get it than up a tree as the leaves drink in carbon dioxide and give out oxygen?
He breathes deeply, filing his lungs before letting the air slowly trickle out again, enjoying the solitude and the welcome chance to rest after being on the go most of the day. He took off his shoes and socks when he got up here, and now with his legs dangling, the air can get at his feet, cooling them and easing the ache he’s been plagued with for the past few hours. It’s bliss.
Jack is probably on a roof somewhere, Owen at a bar, Tosh and Gwen home with their feet up, each of them unwinding in their own way. After today, they all deserve it. In a while, Ianto knows he’ll have to climb down and head home; he’s starting to get hungry and there’s nothing to eat up here. Besides, with how high up he is it’ll be a lot safer to make his way to the ground while it’s still light enough to see what he’s doing. Maybe in another twenty minutes or so he’ll abandon his perch and head for home. Perhaps on his way he’ll call Jack and ask if he’d like to join him for dinner. But not just yet.
Closing his eyes, Ianto listens to the wind through the leaves as the branch he’s sitting on sways gently. It’s like being on a boat out on the bay, only better because there’s absolutely nothing he needs to do, no other boats to watch out for, no tides or currents to keep track of, no need to steer carefully, keeping to the deeper channels to avoid running aground, just the gentle rocking and a perfect sense of peace. He almost wishes he’d never have to leave.