Written For: Challenge 471: Track at tw100.
Summary: There’s no shortage of variety in Ianto’s job.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
The narrow track wound around the hill, leading steadily upwards. Ianto could feel the incline tugging at his calf muscles; his legs would be sore after this, but it was a small price to pay for getting out of Cardiff on a brisk autumn day.
His job wasn’t perfect, probably no job would be, but it was certainly varied. He’d spent most of yesterday in the archives, and today he was hiking to the aid of some lost Allurians who’d parked their shuttle in stealth mode and now couldn’t find it again.
Apparently even races with superior technology weren’t infallible.