Title: A Thousand Words
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Ianto Jones/Tenth Doctor
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Rating: PG-13
Table: 1, 10_prompts
Prompt: 1, Silence
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own Ianto Jones or the Tenth Doctor. Please do not sue.

***

Ianto glanced over to where the Doctor sat, silently reading a book, seemingly engrossed in its pages. He himself had a book open on his lap, but he was contemplating his lover rather than reading. He'd lost interest in the pages already.

The room was silent, other than the small sounds that intruded into the quiet air. There was the sound of their breathing, of a page turning now and then as the Doctor read, of the slight shifting of Ianto's body as he settled himself more comfortably on the couch.

He enjoyed these silences, Ianto thought to himself, a small smile on his lips. If he'd been with anyone else, the silence would have stretched on forever, growing more and more uncomfortable by the minute, making him wish for any kind of sound in the room.

But with the Doctor, this kind of silence was comfortable. The two of them didn't have to talk constantly to feel that they were making the most of their time together; they could share a companionable silence and feel that it brought them close.

Usually, this kind of silence meant that there was some sort of tension between the two people in the room. It had been that way with Jack; the two of them had only shared a silence like this when one or both of them were reluctant to talk.

The two of them would sit there, pretending to pay attention to whatever work was on their desks, or a book in their hands, studiously avoiding the moment when they would have to discuss whatever it was that hung palpably in the silence between them.

Then when they'd finally broken the silence and spoken to each other, there was a lot of dancing around whatever subject they wanted to avoid but knew they needed to discuss. And there was invariably some kind of disagreement that degenerated into an argument.

With the Doctor, nothing like that ever happened. They could always approach their differences calmly and with respect for each other -- there hadn't been a time in their relationship when either of them had let resentments grow, as the case had been with Jack.

His relationship with the Doctor was far stronger than any other he'd ever had, Ianto thought as he stole another glance at his lover. The Time Lord was still engrossed in his book; he didn't even seem to realize that Ianto was surreptitiously watching him.

Usually, silences made Ianto feel that he should say something, fill in that gap with words, even if they didn't mean much of anything. Silence, for him, had always meant that there was something hanging in the air that needed to be said, but was being studiously avoided.

And then there was the silence that was compounded of held breath and uneasiness, the sort of silence that he'd had to deal with when his parents were arguing, or when his father was displeased by some unknown infraction he'd committed.

Those silences were the worst. He'd always known what was coming, and he'd been desperate to avoid the harsh words, the blame heaped on his head, even the physical punishment that would sometimes happen when his father's temper finally exploded.

Silence had always made him feel uncomfortable. So he found it much easier to fill silences with inane chatter -- unless, of course, it was silence in his workplace. He'd kept quiet at Torchwood for the most part, keeping to his own corner of their little world.

But that had all changed when he'd begun traveling with the Doctor. There had been no silences between them where he'd felt that something unpleasant was building up, or where he thought that his lover was angry with him.

No, their silences had all been just like this one -- companionable silence, where neither of them had felt that they had to chatter away about things that didn't really matter just to fill the space around them with words. Their bond didn't need to be expressed in speech.

This silence didn't feel uncomfortable for him in the slightest. Rather, it felt as though he was sharing a quiet interlude with the Doctor, a companionable time when they didn't have to be fixated on each other to share themselves.

This was a silence that he could live with, a silence that posed no problems for him. He didn't feel that he should fill it with words; the companionship that flowed between himself and the Doctor was there, even without any spoken sound.

Did the Doctor feel the same way? He couldn't help but wonder about that, but the Time Lord seemed to have no problem with their silences. The other man never seemed uncomfortable when they weren't speaking; he was more often lost in thought.

As much as he always liked knowing what went on in that brilliant mind, Ianto didn't often ask the Time Lord what he was thinking when he was silent. That almost seemed like an intrusion into his lover's thoughts, and he didn't want to be rude.

Besides, those silences never made him feel as though the Doctor had forgotten that he was there, like Jack's silences had sometimes done. The Doctor was connected to him in a way that no one else had ever been, through the emotional bond they shared.

What were those old sayings about silence? Ianto smiled to himself as they crossed his mind. Maybe silence between himself and the Doctor wasn't golden, but it certainly did speak a thousand words, without either of them having to say a single one.

All of his words would be written in his eyes when he looked at the Doctor; and he would know exactly what the Time Lord might say when he saw that smile that would light up his lover's face the moment their eyes met.

Their souls would always be in perfect accord, speaking to each other without needing to use words or to break any silence that might fall between them. Others might not understand that silent camaraderie they shared, but that didn't matter.

Slowly but surely, he was leaning to feel comfortable with silence, more so than he'd ever been before in his life. It was a quiet, calming interlude, one that he didn't need to rush into with words that didn't mean anything and that he didn't really want to say.

There might be a thousand words that he wanted to say, but the silence was working for him at the moment. The words didn't seem important; it was the emotions behind those words that he wanted the Doctor to feel, not the words he used to express them.

Ianto picked up the book in his lap again, feeling at ease with the silence that surrounded him. He glanced at the Doctor once again before he turned his attention to the words on the printed page, secure in the knowledge that his lover was just as comfortable with their silence as he was.

***