Torchwood IMs: New Secrets
Jul. 15th, 2009 02:05 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
a_silver_storyTitle: New Secrets
Chapter: 54
Characters: Ianto Jones, Jack Harkness, Gwen Cooper
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
a_silver_story
Genre Humour,
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: M.M implied
Disclaimer: If I owned anything in this, I'd be a rich rich rich bitch. However, I am not a rich rich rich bitch so you may all, therefore, assume I own nothing. Which I don't. It all belongs RTD and the BBC, in case any of you didn't know.
Summary: Jack and Ianto make themselves a new little secret.
FIRST PART | Ianto and Gwen's IM's
PREVIOUS | Torchwood Index/Masterlist
54 |
Text Message Received:
To: Ianto
From: Jack
>>>Come to my office and see what I’ve found. J xxxx
Text Message Received:
To: Jack :)
From: Ianto
>>>I would, but some idiot put me on rift monitor duty and gave
>>>Gwen the day off.
Text Message Received:
To: Ianto
From: Jack
>>>You need to stop taking me literally. I only said that to get
>>>rid of Gwen!
Text Message Received:
To: Jack :)
From: Ianto
>>>I’ll never stop taking you ;)
Text Message Received:
To: Ianto
From: Jack
>>>I didn’t even notice that opportunity for innuendo when I wrote it!
>>>Well done! *pats on head*
Text Message Received:
To: Jack :)
From: Ianto
>>>Woteva. I’ll be down in a minute. Covering our tracks for
>>>the past week. We fuck that much, I think it counts as
>>>an addiction.
Text Message Received:
To: Ianto
From: Jack
>>>Well I ain’t quitting x
~*~*~*~
“Er ... alien ear plugs?”
Jack sighed at him again.
“I’m never going to guess it, Jack. You’ll have to tell me.”
“Fine ... Fine. They’re comms.”
“S’cuse me?”
“They’re comms. And they’re not alien – they’re human. About sixty-fourth century. Ingenious little things.”
Ianto lifted one of the silver ear-plugs to his mouth. “Halloo? Haaa-alloo?”
Jack batted his arm. “That’s not how they work, silly! They were used in war and battlefields. Telepathic comms. The enemy don’t know what you’re communicating to each other and brainwaves are incredibly hard to intercept.”
Ianto raised an eyebrow. “Impressive.” He said, handing the little silver slug back to the Captain.
“Don’t you want to try it?” asked Jack. He looked rather disappointed. Ianto rolled his eyes without realising, but okayed the testing of the telepathic comms anyway. Jack perked up. “Well ... the difference between this and other telepathic communication devices is they’re totally non intrusive and don’t have to be worn on the surface so can be hidden. You just pop it in your pocket and if you think ‘Oo! Jack needs to know that!’ it activates itself and sends me your thought.”
“What if ... you get a thought I don’t want you to see?”
“You decide what gets sent. It’s like ... it’s hard to explain. Like clicking ‘okay’ in a dialogue box on the computer. Here ...” he pushed the comm device back into Ianto’s hand and picked up its doppelganger from the table. They squeezed them at the same time, and a little blue light flashed three times on the tip of each one.
“So ...” said Ianto. “So now I just pop it in my pocket, and then everything I think that I want you to hear gets in your head?”
“Yep. As long as we’re in the same galaxy, we can communicate.”
“And if we’re not in the same galaxy?”
“Well I’m not going galaxy-hopping without you just yet.” winked Jack. “Now get back upstairs and start thinking thoughts!”
Ianto hurried away. ‘Bloody Jack and his bloody Bright Ideas’ thought Ianto. He felt a little buzz at the back of his mind and paused in his tracks. He wanted Jack to hear the thought: the niggling stopped. He heard Jack snigger in the bowels of the hub.
’It’ll keep us occupied at Gwen’s party tomorrow.’ boomed Jack’s voice in Ianto’s head.
’Owww not so loud!’ he sent back, though couldn’t help but be pleased with himself for sending his first telepathic message.
~*~*~*~
JACK has entered the conversation
JACK: Boo!
IANTO: Arggghhh help!
JACK: :-P
IANTO has changed their username
MR JONES: What do you want? I’m a bit busy.
JACK: You’re always busy.
MR JONES: It’s your fault. You mess everything up :P
JACK: Muahaha.
JACK: I try and tidy it all up again!
MR JONES: That usually just makes the situation worse.
JACK: You haven’t been using our new little toy :(
MR JONES: I don’t really need to. We’re on IM.
JACK: But when were weren’t, though?
MR JONES: I didn’t have any thoughts pop into my head that you needed to hear.
JACK: *hmph* you took it out of your pocket. My messages haven’t been getting through
MR JONES: It’s still in my pocket – I’ve just taken my jacket off. Besides, you were bombarding me with graphic imagery that made it very hard to concentrate.
MR JONES: I’ll put it in my waistcoat. Happy?
JACK: Okay.
MR JONES: There.
MR JONES: God you think some dirty things.
JACK: It’s your fault :-P
MR JONES: I’m sure it is. Do you want me for anything important or can I get on?
JACK: I just want you. I think that’s quite important.
MR JONES: You would. Give me an hour and I’ll be up. These Archives are still a bloody mess.
JACK: An hour :(
JACK: That’s a long time, Yantoes :’(
MR JONES: Have a nap.
JACK: I’m not sleepy.
MR JONES: You are. I say you are :-P
JACK: *pouts*
MR JONES: No, Jack. I’m taking the comm. out of my pocket. I really need to get this done and as much as I would like to go upstairs and start acting on your thoughts right now, I’m a) Very busy and b) Not that bendy.
JACK: With a bit of regular stretching you could be
MR JONES: There are only so many innuendos I can think of to that comment.
JACK: You should send them to me ;)
MR JONES: *rolls eyes* I’m trying to work!
JACK: Don’t make me come down there!
MR JONES: You’ll never find me!
JACK: Hide ‘n’ seek?
MR JONES: Oh stoppp ittttttt
JACK: I’m the boss. And I’ve decided you’ve got to play naked hide and seek with me.
MR JONES: But you cheat! You always cheat!
JACK: At least I’m predictable ^_^
MR JONES: Yeah yeahhhhh woteva.
MR JONES: I’ll be up in an hour. That’s final.
MR JONES has left the conversation
~*~*~*~
Ianto was horny. It was Jack’s fault. But he was hidden away in the Archives at the moment so couldn’t do anything about it. He glanced at his watch: ten minutes and he could go upstairs. There was no way he’d go earlier than he’d told Jack – he’d expect him to relent all the time.
Stretching and letting his bones crack, he hauled himself out of his chair. ‘Hmmmm.’ He thought. ‘I wonder if it’s time to get the UNIT uniform out again ...’. He felt the buzz of the comm. at the back of his mind. He okayed sending the thought, and waited for a couple of seconds for a response. None came, and Ianto scowled to himself. Maybe Jack was playing with him ...
He set off for the main area, taking a slight detour to a little empty room he’d reserved for himself and called “Ianto’s Changing Room” in his head. He kept quite a lot of clothes in there – and not all of them for work. He took his UNIT uniform off a shelf and grinned at it. He’d had to get a new one since the last time they’d used it as Jack had been so desperate to get to him he’d torn off some of the limbs. That had been an awkward conversation with Martha ... he’d acquired the first uniform from her under the pretence they needed an example of all militia uniform for Archiving and identification purposes. Explaining why they needed a second one because the first had been damaged had him blushing down the phone.
Ianto peeled of his suit and placed it in the washing basket. He faltered slightly – it didn’t seem as full as it should have. Removing the clothes he’d just put in, he looked into the basket and frowned. Socks, boxers, trousers and jacket. Where was his shirt from yesterday? Throwing his suit back in with the washing, he decided to worry about it later and pulled on the UNIT-form. Lacing up the boots, slipping the little silver comm. into his pocket and positioning the red cap perfectly, Ianto set off for Jack’s office.
Jack had powered down the hub already. Ianto couldn’t see him anywhere, so crept over to his office. The heavy boots would give his choice of apparel away too soon, and he wanted it to be a nice surprise for the Captain ... when he could find him. He wasn’t in his office. Paperwork was left half-sorted on his desk and Ianto fought the urge to rifle through and set it right.
Ianto was just turning to leave when he remembered the last thing he’d told Jack to do: have a nap. Looking down the manhole into Jack’s room, his suspicions were confirmed. He could have kicked himself. Once Jack was asleep, that was it. If he was woken he’d be cranky and the chances of him taking full advantage of Ianto was minimal. Ianto wondered to himself for a couple of seconds whether or not Jack was pretending to be asleep, but his face was too smooth and calm to be wakened – even for fake sleeping. He was on his side, his face careless, with a slight smile on his face.
Sighing, Ianto climbed down the ladder and went into the adjoining bathroom to splash his face with cold water and decided to wait for his anticipation to subside rather than take a cold shower. Whatever cruel person advised someone to do that should have been forced to live in a block of ice. Bastards. It never worked – well, not for Ianto anyway.
He pulled off his uniform and slipped on some pyjama bottoms. May as well stay at the hub tonight, he decided. It was late, and he really was a bit too tired to drive. Well, that’s what he tried to tell himself. Really he didn’t want to go without saying goodbye to Jack – and if that meant waiting until morning, he’d do it.
Jack’s camp bed looked comfortable and inviting, and he was just about to settle himself behind Jack when he noticed a small flash of deep purple buried in the bed covers by Jack’s hands. The room was gloomy, so Ianto flicked on the beside lamp and found himself grinning like a Cheshire cat. The mystery of his missing shirt was solved: Jack had taken it out of the basket, curled it in his fists near his nose and fallen asleep with it without bothering to get undressed.
Ianto decided to experiment: would Jack wake up in the absence of Ianto’s scent? He pulled the silk gently out of the Captain’s grasp and tossed it into the other washing basket. Jack stirred and reached behind him to the space where Ianto usually was. Ianto felt fuzzy satisfaction inside. Jack was reaching for him in his sleep. As he watched, Jack turned over and buried his head in the pillow where Ianto’s head should be and sought out his scent there.
Getting a little cold and feeling his feet turning towards ice, Ianto slid between Jack and wall into his usual space. Unconscious Jack moved a little, and Ianto settled himself at eye-level with him. He was relaxed and smiling again, and he eyes moved behind his eyelids as he began dreaming. Ianto was tempted to see if their little comms would give him an insight into what the Captain was dreaming – he had often wondered what Jack would dream about – but knew it was a invasion of privacy he could never forgive himself for. Besides – what if he was dreaming about someone else? One of his other lovers? A wife? A partner? Children? ... the Doctor?
Jack pulled Ianto closer to him and Ianto rested his chin on his head. He was already falling asleep, and felt exhausted. He needed to get lots of sleep. Lots and lots of sleep. Tomorrow he was on Crèche Duty at Gwen’s Hallowe’en party, and he’d be even more shattered that night.
“It starts at twelve in the park with some kiddies games and a picnic!” she’d told him enthusiastically. Ianto grumbled fresh insults to himself as he drifted into sleep. At least he and Jack had their little secret comms.
FIN
Moulting Fluff Bunnies are rearing their ever-adorable little heads in the next chapter. Bring on Gwen's Hallowe'en do!
Next Part | Previous Part | Torchwood Index | Request a Convo/Prose Fic
Chapter: 54
Characters: Ianto Jones, Jack Harkness, Gwen Cooper
Author:
a_silver_storyGenre Humour,
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: M.M implied
Disclaimer: If I owned anything in this, I'd be a rich rich rich bitch. However, I am not a rich rich rich bitch so you may all, therefore, assume I own nothing. Which I don't. It all belongs RTD and the BBC, in case any of you didn't know.
Summary: Jack and Ianto make themselves a new little secret.
FIRST PART | Ianto and Gwen's IM's
PREVIOUS | Torchwood Index/Masterlist
54 |
Text Message Received:
To: Ianto
From: Jack
>>>Come to my office and see what I’ve found. J xxxx
Text Message Received:
To: Jack :)
From: Ianto
>>>I would, but some idiot put me on rift monitor duty and gave
>>>Gwen the day off.
Text Message Received:
To: Ianto
From: Jack
>>>You need to stop taking me literally. I only said that to get
>>>rid of Gwen!
Text Message Received:
To: Jack :)
From: Ianto
>>>I’ll never stop taking you ;)
Text Message Received:
To: Ianto
From: Jack
>>>I didn’t even notice that opportunity for innuendo when I wrote it!
>>>Well done! *pats on head*
Text Message Received:
To: Jack :)
From: Ianto
>>>Woteva. I’ll be down in a minute. Covering our tracks for
>>>the past week. We fuck that much, I think it counts as
>>>an addiction.
Text Message Received:
To: Ianto
From: Jack
>>>Well I ain’t quitting x
“Er ... alien ear plugs?”
Jack sighed at him again.
“I’m never going to guess it, Jack. You’ll have to tell me.”
“Fine ... Fine. They’re comms.”
“S’cuse me?”
“They’re comms. And they’re not alien – they’re human. About sixty-fourth century. Ingenious little things.”
Ianto lifted one of the silver ear-plugs to his mouth. “Halloo? Haaa-alloo?”
Jack batted his arm. “That’s not how they work, silly! They were used in war and battlefields. Telepathic comms. The enemy don’t know what you’re communicating to each other and brainwaves are incredibly hard to intercept.”
Ianto raised an eyebrow. “Impressive.” He said, handing the little silver slug back to the Captain.
“Don’t you want to try it?” asked Jack. He looked rather disappointed. Ianto rolled his eyes without realising, but okayed the testing of the telepathic comms anyway. Jack perked up. “Well ... the difference between this and other telepathic communication devices is they’re totally non intrusive and don’t have to be worn on the surface so can be hidden. You just pop it in your pocket and if you think ‘Oo! Jack needs to know that!’ it activates itself and sends me your thought.”
“What if ... you get a thought I don’t want you to see?”
“You decide what gets sent. It’s like ... it’s hard to explain. Like clicking ‘okay’ in a dialogue box on the computer. Here ...” he pushed the comm device back into Ianto’s hand and picked up its doppelganger from the table. They squeezed them at the same time, and a little blue light flashed three times on the tip of each one.
“So ...” said Ianto. “So now I just pop it in my pocket, and then everything I think that I want you to hear gets in your head?”
“Yep. As long as we’re in the same galaxy, we can communicate.”
“And if we’re not in the same galaxy?”
“Well I’m not going galaxy-hopping without you just yet.” winked Jack. “Now get back upstairs and start thinking thoughts!”
Ianto hurried away. ‘Bloody Jack and his bloody Bright Ideas’ thought Ianto. He felt a little buzz at the back of his mind and paused in his tracks. He wanted Jack to hear the thought: the niggling stopped. He heard Jack snigger in the bowels of the hub.
’It’ll keep us occupied at Gwen’s party tomorrow.’ boomed Jack’s voice in Ianto’s head.
’Owww not so loud!’ he sent back, though couldn’t help but be pleased with himself for sending his first telepathic message.
JACK has entered the conversation
JACK: Boo!
IANTO: Arggghhh help!
JACK: :-P
IANTO has changed their username
MR JONES: What do you want? I’m a bit busy.
JACK: You’re always busy.
MR JONES: It’s your fault. You mess everything up :P
JACK: Muahaha.
JACK: I try and tidy it all up again!
MR JONES: That usually just makes the situation worse.
JACK: You haven’t been using our new little toy :(
MR JONES: I don’t really need to. We’re on IM.
JACK: But when were weren’t, though?
MR JONES: I didn’t have any thoughts pop into my head that you needed to hear.
JACK: *hmph* you took it out of your pocket. My messages haven’t been getting through
MR JONES: It’s still in my pocket – I’ve just taken my jacket off. Besides, you were bombarding me with graphic imagery that made it very hard to concentrate.
MR JONES: I’ll put it in my waistcoat. Happy?
JACK: Okay.
MR JONES: There.
MR JONES: God you think some dirty things.
JACK: It’s your fault :-P
MR JONES: I’m sure it is. Do you want me for anything important or can I get on?
JACK: I just want you. I think that’s quite important.
MR JONES: You would. Give me an hour and I’ll be up. These Archives are still a bloody mess.
JACK: An hour :(
JACK: That’s a long time, Yantoes :’(
MR JONES: Have a nap.
JACK: I’m not sleepy.
MR JONES: You are. I say you are :-P
JACK: *pouts*
MR JONES: No, Jack. I’m taking the comm. out of my pocket. I really need to get this done and as much as I would like to go upstairs and start acting on your thoughts right now, I’m a) Very busy and b) Not that bendy.
JACK: With a bit of regular stretching you could be
MR JONES: There are only so many innuendos I can think of to that comment.
JACK: You should send them to me ;)
MR JONES: *rolls eyes* I’m trying to work!
JACK: Don’t make me come down there!
MR JONES: You’ll never find me!
JACK: Hide ‘n’ seek?
MR JONES: Oh stoppp ittttttt
JACK: I’m the boss. And I’ve decided you’ve got to play naked hide and seek with me.
MR JONES: But you cheat! You always cheat!
JACK: At least I’m predictable ^_^
MR JONES: Yeah yeahhhhh woteva.
MR JONES: I’ll be up in an hour. That’s final.
MR JONES has left the conversation
Ianto was horny. It was Jack’s fault. But he was hidden away in the Archives at the moment so couldn’t do anything about it. He glanced at his watch: ten minutes and he could go upstairs. There was no way he’d go earlier than he’d told Jack – he’d expect him to relent all the time.
Stretching and letting his bones crack, he hauled himself out of his chair. ‘Hmmmm.’ He thought. ‘I wonder if it’s time to get the UNIT uniform out again ...’. He felt the buzz of the comm. at the back of his mind. He okayed sending the thought, and waited for a couple of seconds for a response. None came, and Ianto scowled to himself. Maybe Jack was playing with him ...
He set off for the main area, taking a slight detour to a little empty room he’d reserved for himself and called “Ianto’s Changing Room” in his head. He kept quite a lot of clothes in there – and not all of them for work. He took his UNIT uniform off a shelf and grinned at it. He’d had to get a new one since the last time they’d used it as Jack had been so desperate to get to him he’d torn off some of the limbs. That had been an awkward conversation with Martha ... he’d acquired the first uniform from her under the pretence they needed an example of all militia uniform for Archiving and identification purposes. Explaining why they needed a second one because the first had been damaged had him blushing down the phone.
Ianto peeled of his suit and placed it in the washing basket. He faltered slightly – it didn’t seem as full as it should have. Removing the clothes he’d just put in, he looked into the basket and frowned. Socks, boxers, trousers and jacket. Where was his shirt from yesterday? Throwing his suit back in with the washing, he decided to worry about it later and pulled on the UNIT-form. Lacing up the boots, slipping the little silver comm. into his pocket and positioning the red cap perfectly, Ianto set off for Jack’s office.
Jack had powered down the hub already. Ianto couldn’t see him anywhere, so crept over to his office. The heavy boots would give his choice of apparel away too soon, and he wanted it to be a nice surprise for the Captain ... when he could find him. He wasn’t in his office. Paperwork was left half-sorted on his desk and Ianto fought the urge to rifle through and set it right.
Ianto was just turning to leave when he remembered the last thing he’d told Jack to do: have a nap. Looking down the manhole into Jack’s room, his suspicions were confirmed. He could have kicked himself. Once Jack was asleep, that was it. If he was woken he’d be cranky and the chances of him taking full advantage of Ianto was minimal. Ianto wondered to himself for a couple of seconds whether or not Jack was pretending to be asleep, but his face was too smooth and calm to be wakened – even for fake sleeping. He was on his side, his face careless, with a slight smile on his face.
Sighing, Ianto climbed down the ladder and went into the adjoining bathroom to splash his face with cold water and decided to wait for his anticipation to subside rather than take a cold shower. Whatever cruel person advised someone to do that should have been forced to live in a block of ice. Bastards. It never worked – well, not for Ianto anyway.
He pulled off his uniform and slipped on some pyjama bottoms. May as well stay at the hub tonight, he decided. It was late, and he really was a bit too tired to drive. Well, that’s what he tried to tell himself. Really he didn’t want to go without saying goodbye to Jack – and if that meant waiting until morning, he’d do it.
Jack’s camp bed looked comfortable and inviting, and he was just about to settle himself behind Jack when he noticed a small flash of deep purple buried in the bed covers by Jack’s hands. The room was gloomy, so Ianto flicked on the beside lamp and found himself grinning like a Cheshire cat. The mystery of his missing shirt was solved: Jack had taken it out of the basket, curled it in his fists near his nose and fallen asleep with it without bothering to get undressed.
Ianto decided to experiment: would Jack wake up in the absence of Ianto’s scent? He pulled the silk gently out of the Captain’s grasp and tossed it into the other washing basket. Jack stirred and reached behind him to the space where Ianto usually was. Ianto felt fuzzy satisfaction inside. Jack was reaching for him in his sleep. As he watched, Jack turned over and buried his head in the pillow where Ianto’s head should be and sought out his scent there.
Getting a little cold and feeling his feet turning towards ice, Ianto slid between Jack and wall into his usual space. Unconscious Jack moved a little, and Ianto settled himself at eye-level with him. He was relaxed and smiling again, and he eyes moved behind his eyelids as he began dreaming. Ianto was tempted to see if their little comms would give him an insight into what the Captain was dreaming – he had often wondered what Jack would dream about – but knew it was a invasion of privacy he could never forgive himself for. Besides – what if he was dreaming about someone else? One of his other lovers? A wife? A partner? Children? ... the Doctor?
Jack pulled Ianto closer to him and Ianto rested his chin on his head. He was already falling asleep, and felt exhausted. He needed to get lots of sleep. Lots and lots of sleep. Tomorrow he was on Crèche Duty at Gwen’s Hallowe’en party, and he’d be even more shattered that night.
“It starts at twelve in the park with some kiddies games and a picnic!” she’d told him enthusiastically. Ianto grumbled fresh insults to himself as he drifted into sleep. At least he and Jack had their little secret comms.
FIN
I know I don't really need to say it here, but no spoilers in comments please.
Moulting Fluff Bunnies are rearing their ever-adorable little heads in the next chapter. Bring on Gwen's Hallowe'en do!
