Torchwood IMs: Close Shave
Sep. 28th, 2009 04:30 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
a_silver_storyTitle: Close Shave
Chapter: 82
Characters: Ianto Jones, Gwen Cooper, Jack Harkness
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
a_silver_story
Genre Humour, smut
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: See title, really.
FIRST PART | Ianto and Gwen's IM's
PREVIOUS | Torchwood Index/Masterlist
82 |
IM | 82
MR JONES has entered the conversation
MR JONES: Alriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight?
RHYS: No: half left!
MR JONES: Wow. And there was me thinking sarcasm was the lowest form of wit ...
RHYS: Shurrup you.
RHYS: And shouldn't you be working hard?
MR JONES: Shouldn't you be eating danish swirls and telling your secretary to hold all calls?
RHYS: Touche
MR JONES: I'm on sick leave! Yay!
RHYS: :| What happened?
RHYS: How sick?
RHYS: You're not in hospital are you?
RHYS: Is it some kind of alien disease?
MR JONES: Woahh calm down. None of those things!
MR JONES: I'm not even ill, but Jack's insisting I take time off *rolls eyes*
RHYS: What's wrong with you?
MR JONES: I got a bit shot.
RHYS: a 'bit' shot?
MR JONES: Well, clearly it's not a fatal or even serious injury. So ... a 'bit' shot, rather than 'OMG I'VE BEEN SHOT CALL AN ABULANCE!' shot.
RHYS: The fact you grade how you get shot is unnerving.
RHYS: So where did you get shot?
MR JONES: My right calf.
MR JONES: I can't even feel it anymore. I'm jacked up on so many pain killers, I think you could shoot me again and I wouldn't feel it.
RHYS: What painkillers?
MR JONES: I'm not sure what they're called - we just refer to them as 'industrial strength'. Whether their origin stems from this planet I have yet to figure out.
MR JONES: I don't feel in any way out of it. I'm totally 'here'. I think maybe Jack is the only one who knows what these painkillers truly are.
RHYS: Eeeek.
MR JONES: Mmm.
MR JONES: So what you up to then?
RHYS: Eating danish swirls and telling my secretary to hold all calls.
MR JONES: haha! I'm psychic!
RHYS: ... or just mental
RHYS: :P
MR JONES: *gasp*
MR JONES: You're just predictable.
RHYS: ... and you're not?
RHYS: Mr "I can't believe you don't have a routine for washing up" Jones!
MR JONES: All I was trying to say was that you wash the glasses first so that you can lean the plates on them on the draining board and they dry better.
MR JONES: ... and doing your pans first? Wtf?
MR JONES: That's just bad organization.
RHYS: Whatever, Trevor.
MR JONES: "Your Lordship" will do fine :p
RHYS: lol
RHYS: Soo ... been a while since we've been for a drink. Coming out with the lads on Saturday?
MR JONES: Suppose so. Rift permitting.
RHYS: *raises eyebrow* I don't wanna force ya ...
MR JONES: I'm just wary in case Jack starts his whole 'intervention' nonsense if I once again imbibe a large amount of alcohol ...
RHYS: It was the frequency you were going out that bothered him, not the amount you were drinking.
MR JONES: That's what he told you, was it?
MR JONES: It was a bit of both, let's leave it at that.
RHYS: Okay.
MR JONES: Hang on ... I don't think I'll be able to drink anyway. Chances are I can't have alcohol on these painkillers.
RHYS: Soft drinks were invented for a reason.
MR JONES: Giving people a good laugh when they fizz up your nose not being one of them :-P
RHYS: LOL no.
RHYS: Oooooo I've been meaning to ask
RHYS: And I really don't mean to nag
RHYS: But while you were in Oz last year, you said that when you got back you'd check to see if there was a maternity plan for Torchwood employees ...
MR JONES: :| So I did
MR JONES: Dammit, I'm at home. I can't check from here.
RHYS: Okay.
RHYS: But you won't forget?
MR JONES: Not now you've reminded me. :)
RHYS: Gdgd.
MR JONES: :)
MR JONES: So ... you and Gwen have talked about ... y'know ... the pitter patter of tiny designer boots?
RHYS: Not exactly ... well, not since she started working with you lot.
MR JONES: Ohhhhhhhhhh dear.
RHYS: She wanted a baby before Torchwood ... now she thinks the job won't permit it.
MR JONES: Hmm. Well ...
MR JONES: Scout's honour this little nugget of information NEVER. EVER. LEAVES. THIS. CONVERSATION.
RHYS: ||| scout's honour
RHYS: Does it still count if I wasn't a Scout?
MR JONES: Well, you will die a horrible and painful Ianto-induced death if you go against your word.
RHYS: *curls up in ball* I pwomise to keep your secret.
MR JONES: ... it's not my secret.
RHYS: *ears prick*
RHYS: NOW I'm interested ...
MR JONES: One female Torchwood operative had a baby in the seventies. She lived a long and happy life, eventually dying of heart failure. The baby grew up safe and sound and still lives in Cardiff, with a kid of their own.
MR JONES: And that's all I'm saying.
RHYS: So you can convince Gwen?
MR JONES: ... to do something she doesn't want?
MR JONES: Do you not know the woman at all?
RHYS: LOL I mean ... I think she wants a kid, but is uncertain because of the job. If you could let slip the info that it's been done before ...
MR JONES: But then she'll research the operative who had the baby ... and that's when it will get rather messy.
RHYS: How?
MR JONES: You dig up the past, all you get is dirty.
RHYS: What happened? Was it bad?
MR JONES: It doesn't matter.
MR JONES: Who else is going on Saturday?
RHYS: Tell meeeeee
MR JONES: It's nothing bad, but it's still not your business.
MR JONES: Now ... who else is going on Saturday?
RHYS: You said it'd get messy. How could it not be bad?
MR JONES: I think the painkillers are affecting me after all. I shouldn't have said anything.
MR JONES: Just drop it.
RHYS: Fine fine fine fine.
RHYS: Daf, Banana and Banana's new lady.
MR JONES: Banana managed to actually pull?
RHYS: One of them dating sites, apparently.
MR JONES: Awww. Sweet.
MR JONES: Ooop brb.
RHYS: Kk.
MR JONES has set their status to Away
MR JONES has set their status to Online
MR JONES: Back.
RHYS: yay
MR JONES: Cold caller on the fellytone.
RHYS: Grrrrrr @ telesales.
MR JONES: Grrrrrrrr indeed.
MR JONES: I wonder if there's anyway to call them back ...
RHYS: Redial won't work -they withhold the phone numbers.
MR JONES: Mere mortals may not be able to discover the phone number ... but Mr Jones, on the hand ...
RHYS: Why am I suddenly hearing James Bond theme music?
MR JONES: Because I am that fabulous!
MR JONES: :|
MR JONES: Oh no!
MR JONES: I think .... OH GOD RHYS ... I just used the word 'fabulous'!
RHYS: You did
RHYS: And you sounded camper than a row of tents.
MR JONES: But I'm a MANLY MAN.
RHYS: Yes dear.
RHYS: Now don't you have a kitchen sink to stand over?
MR JONES: Don't you have an oven to clean?
RHYS: Shuddup Mr Bright Shirt!
MR JONES: Shuddup Mr Polo Neck!
RHYS: Shuddup Mr Neat and Perfect!
MR JONES: Shuddup Mr CoopersBitch!
RHYS: :O
RHYS: As if you're not Jack's bitch *hmph*
MR JONES: You honestly think I'm willingly submissive?
RHYS: Do you honestly think I am?
MR JONES: ... yes ...
RHYS: I was going to say don't answer that ...
MR JONES: :-P
RHYS: Cheeky bugger.
MR JONES: ^_^
MR JONES: I'm boreddddddddddd
MR JONES: Can I go to your offices and ... y'know ...
RHYS: Oh no. Not again. I feel ... I always feel so guilty afterwards ...
MR JONES: It won't take long. I just ... I just want to mess a little bit.
RHYS: I know but it's so ... strange.
MR JONES: Strange ... yet fulfilling.
RHYS: For you maybe. I just feel like I've taken advantage.
MR JONES: But it's been on my mind so long ... after that first time ...
RHYS: I was a little tipsy when I let you do it the first time ...
MR JONES: Yes but ... you were grateful after.
MR JONES: I know it feels like I shouldn't be there. Like ... like an intrusion. But you get used to it, don't you?
RHYS: I just don't know how you're going to tell Jack.
MR JONES: I'm sure he'll understand. He knows how I am about these things.
RHYS: Maybe.
MR JONES: Please, Rhys! I promise I'll finish as quickly as possible.
RHYS: That's just it, though ... you never rush it. You're so ... methodical.
MR JONES: I know, but ... any job worth doing is worth doing properly.
RHYS: It's just filing, Ianto.
MR JONES: Yes ... but seeing it done right makes me tingly inside.
RHYS: There's no point you coming down now, anyways. By the time you get here it'll be time to close up.
MR JONES: I don't mind working overtime!
RHYS: I mind you working overtime.
MR JONES: *hmph*
MR JONES: I just want something to dooooo
RHYS: Where's Jack?
MR JONES: At work.
RHYS: Why don't you phone him and get him to go round and entertain you?
MR JONES: Because he's treating me like a delicate China doll, and I won't be getting the kind of entertainment I want.
RHYS: You could always give him the 'Well ... I'm just gonna be on my back ..." excuse ...
MR JONES: Rhys Williams!
MR JONES: Is your tongue hopin' for a soapin'?
RHYS: Muahahahahaha.
MR JONES: I could try that I suppose. Mmmm. I'll text him.
RHYS: Gdgd.
RHYS: Have you been watching Derren Brown?
RHYS: Do you think he might be an alien?
MR JONES: ... yes and no.
MR JONES: I don't think he's that impressive to be honest.
RHYS: You 'don't think he's that impressive'?????
RHYS: Oh ... wait ...
RHYS: does Jack fancy him or something?
MR JONES: Pffffffffffffft. As if.
MR JONES: .. okay he might a little.
RHYS: A funny, clever, gay man in a three piece suit. What's not to like?
MR JONES: Well, for starters he doesn't always wear a tie with said suit.
MR JONES: That is just plain wrong.
RHYS: Is it?
MR JONES: If you're wearing a suit, two piece or three, putting on a tie is part of getting dressed.
MR JONES: As is tucking in your shirt. *hint hint*
RHYS: *nervously tucks in shirt*
RHYS: So ... you don't like Derren Brown because Jack fancies the adorable lil chappie and his magic tricks?
MR JONES: You don't like John Barrowfield because Gwen has his calendar!
RHYS: Fair point.
MR JONES: I know ^_^
RHYS: Yay! Let's be petty together!
MR JONES: Boo ya!
MR JONES: Okays I need to log off now.
RHYS: Okay see you soon *non-homosexual yet intimate hugsies bye bye*
MR JONES: *non-homosexual yet intimate hugsies bye bye back*
RHYS: And don't forget about the maternity plan!
MR JONES has left the conversation
~*~*~*~
Jack stood in the doorway, and Ianto noticed he seemed to be a little paler than usual.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"Still a bit queasy, is all." Jack tried to give him a reassuring smile, stepping over the threshold into the flat, kicking off his boots and sinking into the sofa. Ianto sat beside him cautiously.
"You're really pale, Jack."
"It's you I'm more worried about." Jack said, frowning at Ianto. "How's the pain? Do the painkillers work?"
"Shoot me again and I probably wouldn't feel it." joked Ianto, but a shadow crossed Jack's features. Slowly, he reached for Ianto's leg and pulled it across his lap and pushed the fabric of his trousers up a little, inspecting the dressing on the bullet wound. "I'm fine, Jack." Ianto assured him. "It doesn't even ache."
"It's my fault." sighed Jack. "Should have been quicker ..."
"Ohhh no. Don't you start with that!" Ianto snatched his leg back and curled both of them under him, facing Jack properly. "If you hadn't pushed me when you did, it would have been a helluva lot worse."
"I nearly lost you ..."
"You came no where near to losing me."
"I did. You know I did."
"I know that I'm here now and that's what you should be concentrating on."
Jack turned to him and smiled. "Yeah ..." he agreed. "But I can't help bu-"
Ianto cut off his sentence by pressing their lips together, moving to sit on Jack's lap so that they could hold each other properly. They kissed for a few minutes, before Ianto broke away. "Uh ... Jack ..."
"Yeah?" Jack smiled at him with dark eyes. "Don't worry ... I'll just keep you on your back ..." he murmured enticingly, leaning forward to kiss him again.
Ianto pushed him back gently. "It's ... not that ..."
Jack frowned. "What is it?"
"Erm ..." Ianto shifted a little uncomfortably. "... I think those painkillers might have ... y'know ... numbed areas that we still want to make use of ..."
Alarm crossed the Captain's features, and he pressed his palm to Ianto's unresponsive groin. He squeezed and played a little. "Anything?"
"Nope. Nothing." sighed Ianto, throwing himself backwards onto the couch and crossing his ankles over Jack's lap. "Bloody Blowfish."
"Bloody Torchwood." scowled Jack.
~*~*~*~
They went to bed that night, curled up, warm and happy having spent the evening chatting, watching Paul O'Grady and cooking together. Ianto slept peacefully, Jack's head on his chest and arm thrown around him. Jack lay awake, listening to Ianto's heartbeat and worrying his bottom lip.
Every time he closed his eyes, he could see the events of that day unfolding in his mind's eye. Just a routine Blowfish - this one had decided to go for a motorbike - easily subdued and brought in if not intoxicated; probably about to get shot if it was. This one had lead them to a car park, busy with people arriving to park for work, and had caused a scene. Jack had gone in first, Webley drawn as Ianto used his best commanding voice to tell the members of the public to stay calm. Hearing the authority in his voice, the Blowfish had turned on him.
"Ianto Jones ..." it snarled, and Jack decided to wonder on how it knew Ianto's name when they were in a more secure environment. "... little coffee boy. What are you doing out so early? Aren't you supposed to be hidden underground so that only your boss can look at you? Because he does look. He never stops looking ...."
Ianto didn't react, simply raising his handgun a little higher and quirking an eyebrow. The Blowfish turned to Jack.
"Long way from home." it commented. "Still ... that doesn't stop you trying to make a new one ..."
People screamed as the Blowfish suddenly withdrew a gun, pointing it straight between Ianto's eyes.
"... with him? Or with the green-eyed girl? Or neither?" it taunted.
"What do you want?" Jack snapped, very aware that one pull of the trigger meant his world would fall apart. Ianto didn't even look afraid, and Jack was proud of him for that. His eyes rolled as the gun had been turned on him, but beyond that he showed no concern for the imminent death pointed straight at his head. Dammit, thought Jack. Gotta get closer to Ianto ...
"Heroin. Or I kill the boy." the Blowfish demanded.
"I don't have any on me, shockingly." Jack scathed, edging a little to the side, trying to get within touching distance of his partner.
"Then I'll just keep hold of him until you get me some." the Blowfish replied, taking a step forward. Jack took the distraction of the Blowfish moving and Ianto flicking the safety off his gun to get a little closer to him. He could reach out and grab him now, if needed.
"Yeah ... and what if I can't get hold of any? It's not exactly an over-the-counter drug."
The Blowfish raised the gun and fired a shot into the air by way of reply.
"I see." Jack pondered. "Well ..." he said, raising his Webley. "The way I see it is-"
BANG
Jack shot it. He'd seen the Blowfish's finger twitch and he'd shot it dead. The members of the public who had fallen silent were now screaming, and Ianto was rushing over to the body, pulling it backwards a little and making sure it was definitely dead. He gave Jack a nod, the two of them calm in the ocean of chaos that was Frightened Members of Public.
Rising to his feet, Ianto went about clearing the crowd and calling Gwen to bring the gurney from the SUV. Jack began to pat down the body in search of weapons and ID. By chance he glanced up, and saw the little red dot on the back of Ianto's head.
He didn't even know he could move so fast. Before he even realized he'd got to his feet, he was on the ground again with Ianto beneath him, pinned to the cold concrete and grazing his front. A bullet ricocheted off a nearby car, and the crowd started screaming and running. Jack stared frantically around, trying to search out a possible gunman while keeping as much of Ianto's body covered by his as possible. Ianto was indignant, however, and was trying to push him off.
"Keep down!" Jack hissed, spotting the scraped paint of a nearby car where the bullet had bounced off it and judging the direction of the sniper from that. He kept himself firmly between Ianto and where the gunman (or woman) might be. He saw a flurry of movement, and heard a silencer.
Again his speed was surprising to him, and he shoved a nearly-upright Ianto out of the way, his stomach knotting when he heard his beautiful vocal chords tighten in a harsh scream of pain. Jack shot blindly, releasing his remaining rounds until he heard the dull thud of a body hitting the ground. He threw himself down by Ianto, saying a silent prayer of thanks to whatever may or may not be listening, that Ianto had only been shot in the leg.
A creak of wheels behind him alerted him to Gwen's arrival with the gurney, and he sat by Ianto and soothed him as she asked her questions and offered empathy of her own. Ianto insisted he was fine, applying hard pressure to his wound and trying not to whimper. Jack helped Gwen get the two bodies haphazardly onto the gurney, noticing the second sniper had also been a Blowfish (not hard to miss).
As Gwen wheeled the bodies away, Jack lifted Ianto as best he could, supporting him on his injured side and getting him to the medical bay as quickly as he could drive. He would worry about Sniper Blowfish and their Reasons later. Once in the Hub, Jack injected Ianto with as many painkillers as he could, until he was certain he couldn't feel any discomfort.
Now, as Jack listened to Ianto's heartbeat, he shuddered to think what he might have lost that morning. He'd spent the day cleaning the mess on autopilot, snapping at Gwen and being generally moody. He couldn't look at Ianto, feeling too guilty for reasons he didn't know. Raising his head a little, he could make out Ianto's peaceful, young, sleeping face glowing in the moonlight.
What if he hadn't looked up at that moment? What if Ianto was in the morgue, rather than in bed? What if Jack had never got the chance to see him smile, or hear him laugh, or hold him tight ever again? Jack reached up and touched his face, worrying his lip even more and running over some options in his head.
Ianto was right - Jack had been taking things slow because he had all the time in the world. Ianto might not make it through tomorrow.
Rolling on to his back, Jack knew he'd made his decision.
The only problem would be convincing Ianto it was be the right one ....
FIN
:|
She can't end it there!
Yes she can! It's 04:28 and insomnia will only stop me throwing my computer against the wall for so long!
Next Part | Previous Part | Torchwood Index | Request a Convo/Prose Fic
Chapter: 82
Characters: Ianto Jones, Gwen Cooper, Jack Harkness
Author:
a_silver_storyGenre Humour, smut
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: See title, really.
FIRST PART | Ianto and Gwen's IM's
PREVIOUS | Torchwood Index/Masterlist
82 |
IM | 82
MR JONES has entered the conversation
MR JONES: Alriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight?
RHYS: No: half left!
MR JONES: Wow. And there was me thinking sarcasm was the lowest form of wit ...
RHYS: Shurrup you.
RHYS: And shouldn't you be working hard?
MR JONES: Shouldn't you be eating danish swirls and telling your secretary to hold all calls?
RHYS: Touche
MR JONES: I'm on sick leave! Yay!
RHYS: :| What happened?
RHYS: How sick?
RHYS: You're not in hospital are you?
RHYS: Is it some kind of alien disease?
MR JONES: Woahh calm down. None of those things!
MR JONES: I'm not even ill, but Jack's insisting I take time off *rolls eyes*
RHYS: What's wrong with you?
MR JONES: I got a bit shot.
RHYS: a 'bit' shot?
MR JONES: Well, clearly it's not a fatal or even serious injury. So ... a 'bit' shot, rather than 'OMG I'VE BEEN SHOT CALL AN ABULANCE!' shot.
RHYS: The fact you grade how you get shot is unnerving.
RHYS: So where did you get shot?
MR JONES: My right calf.
MR JONES: I can't even feel it anymore. I'm jacked up on so many pain killers, I think you could shoot me again and I wouldn't feel it.
RHYS: What painkillers?
MR JONES: I'm not sure what they're called - we just refer to them as 'industrial strength'. Whether their origin stems from this planet I have yet to figure out.
MR JONES: I don't feel in any way out of it. I'm totally 'here'. I think maybe Jack is the only one who knows what these painkillers truly are.
RHYS: Eeeek.
MR JONES: Mmm.
MR JONES: So what you up to then?
RHYS: Eating danish swirls and telling my secretary to hold all calls.
MR JONES: haha! I'm psychic!
RHYS: ... or just mental
RHYS: :P
MR JONES: *gasp*
MR JONES: You're just predictable.
RHYS: ... and you're not?
RHYS: Mr "I can't believe you don't have a routine for washing up" Jones!
MR JONES: All I was trying to say was that you wash the glasses first so that you can lean the plates on them on the draining board and they dry better.
MR JONES: ... and doing your pans first? Wtf?
MR JONES: That's just bad organization.
RHYS: Whatever, Trevor.
MR JONES: "Your Lordship" will do fine :p
RHYS: lol
RHYS: Soo ... been a while since we've been for a drink. Coming out with the lads on Saturday?
MR JONES: Suppose so. Rift permitting.
RHYS: *raises eyebrow* I don't wanna force ya ...
MR JONES: I'm just wary in case Jack starts his whole 'intervention' nonsense if I once again imbibe a large amount of alcohol ...
RHYS: It was the frequency you were going out that bothered him, not the amount you were drinking.
MR JONES: That's what he told you, was it?
MR JONES: It was a bit of both, let's leave it at that.
RHYS: Okay.
MR JONES: Hang on ... I don't think I'll be able to drink anyway. Chances are I can't have alcohol on these painkillers.
RHYS: Soft drinks were invented for a reason.
MR JONES: Giving people a good laugh when they fizz up your nose not being one of them :-P
RHYS: LOL no.
RHYS: Oooooo I've been meaning to ask
RHYS: And I really don't mean to nag
RHYS: But while you were in Oz last year, you said that when you got back you'd check to see if there was a maternity plan for Torchwood employees ...
MR JONES: :| So I did
MR JONES: Dammit, I'm at home. I can't check from here.
RHYS: Okay.
RHYS: But you won't forget?
MR JONES: Not now you've reminded me. :)
RHYS: Gdgd.
MR JONES: :)
MR JONES: So ... you and Gwen have talked about ... y'know ... the pitter patter of tiny designer boots?
RHYS: Not exactly ... well, not since she started working with you lot.
MR JONES: Ohhhhhhhhhh dear.
RHYS: She wanted a baby before Torchwood ... now she thinks the job won't permit it.
MR JONES: Hmm. Well ...
MR JONES: Scout's honour this little nugget of information NEVER. EVER. LEAVES. THIS. CONVERSATION.
RHYS: ||| scout's honour
RHYS: Does it still count if I wasn't a Scout?
MR JONES: Well, you will die a horrible and painful Ianto-induced death if you go against your word.
RHYS: *curls up in ball* I pwomise to keep your secret.
MR JONES: ... it's not my secret.
RHYS: *ears prick*
RHYS: NOW I'm interested ...
MR JONES: One female Torchwood operative had a baby in the seventies. She lived a long and happy life, eventually dying of heart failure. The baby grew up safe and sound and still lives in Cardiff, with a kid of their own.
MR JONES: And that's all I'm saying.
RHYS: So you can convince Gwen?
MR JONES: ... to do something she doesn't want?
MR JONES: Do you not know the woman at all?
RHYS: LOL I mean ... I think she wants a kid, but is uncertain because of the job. If you could let slip the info that it's been done before ...
MR JONES: But then she'll research the operative who had the baby ... and that's when it will get rather messy.
RHYS: How?
MR JONES: You dig up the past, all you get is dirty.
RHYS: What happened? Was it bad?
MR JONES: It doesn't matter.
MR JONES: Who else is going on Saturday?
RHYS: Tell meeeeee
MR JONES: It's nothing bad, but it's still not your business.
MR JONES: Now ... who else is going on Saturday?
RHYS: You said it'd get messy. How could it not be bad?
MR JONES: I think the painkillers are affecting me after all. I shouldn't have said anything.
MR JONES: Just drop it.
RHYS: Fine fine fine fine.
RHYS: Daf, Banana and Banana's new lady.
MR JONES: Banana managed to actually pull?
RHYS: One of them dating sites, apparently.
MR JONES: Awww. Sweet.
MR JONES: Ooop brb.
RHYS: Kk.
MR JONES has set their status to Away
MR JONES has set their status to Online
MR JONES: Back.
RHYS: yay
MR JONES: Cold caller on the fellytone.
RHYS: Grrrrrr @ telesales.
MR JONES: Grrrrrrrr indeed.
MR JONES: I wonder if there's anyway to call them back ...
RHYS: Redial won't work -they withhold the phone numbers.
MR JONES: Mere mortals may not be able to discover the phone number ... but Mr Jones, on the hand ...
RHYS: Why am I suddenly hearing James Bond theme music?
MR JONES: Because I am that fabulous!
MR JONES: :|
MR JONES: Oh no!
MR JONES: I think .... OH GOD RHYS ... I just used the word 'fabulous'!
RHYS: You did
RHYS: And you sounded camper than a row of tents.
MR JONES: But I'm a MANLY MAN.
RHYS: Yes dear.
RHYS: Now don't you have a kitchen sink to stand over?
MR JONES: Don't you have an oven to clean?
RHYS: Shuddup Mr Bright Shirt!
MR JONES: Shuddup Mr Polo Neck!
RHYS: Shuddup Mr Neat and Perfect!
MR JONES: Shuddup Mr CoopersBitch!
RHYS: :O
RHYS: As if you're not Jack's bitch *hmph*
MR JONES: You honestly think I'm willingly submissive?
RHYS: Do you honestly think I am?
MR JONES: ... yes ...
RHYS: I was going to say don't answer that ...
MR JONES: :-P
RHYS: Cheeky bugger.
MR JONES: ^_^
MR JONES: I'm boreddddddddddd
MR JONES: Can I go to your offices and ... y'know ...
RHYS: Oh no. Not again. I feel ... I always feel so guilty afterwards ...
MR JONES: It won't take long. I just ... I just want to mess a little bit.
RHYS: I know but it's so ... strange.
MR JONES: Strange ... yet fulfilling.
RHYS: For you maybe. I just feel like I've taken advantage.
MR JONES: But it's been on my mind so long ... after that first time ...
RHYS: I was a little tipsy when I let you do it the first time ...
MR JONES: Yes but ... you were grateful after.
MR JONES: I know it feels like I shouldn't be there. Like ... like an intrusion. But you get used to it, don't you?
RHYS: I just don't know how you're going to tell Jack.
MR JONES: I'm sure he'll understand. He knows how I am about these things.
RHYS: Maybe.
MR JONES: Please, Rhys! I promise I'll finish as quickly as possible.
RHYS: That's just it, though ... you never rush it. You're so ... methodical.
MR JONES: I know, but ... any job worth doing is worth doing properly.
RHYS: It's just filing, Ianto.
MR JONES: Yes ... but seeing it done right makes me tingly inside.
RHYS: There's no point you coming down now, anyways. By the time you get here it'll be time to close up.
MR JONES: I don't mind working overtime!
RHYS: I mind you working overtime.
MR JONES: *hmph*
MR JONES: I just want something to dooooo
RHYS: Where's Jack?
MR JONES: At work.
RHYS: Why don't you phone him and get him to go round and entertain you?
MR JONES: Because he's treating me like a delicate China doll, and I won't be getting the kind of entertainment I want.
RHYS: You could always give him the 'Well ... I'm just gonna be on my back ..." excuse ...
MR JONES: Rhys Williams!
MR JONES: Is your tongue hopin' for a soapin'?
RHYS: Muahahahahaha.
MR JONES: I could try that I suppose. Mmmm. I'll text him.
RHYS: Gdgd.
RHYS: Have you been watching Derren Brown?
RHYS: Do you think he might be an alien?
MR JONES: ... yes and no.
MR JONES: I don't think he's that impressive to be honest.
RHYS: You 'don't think he's that impressive'?????
RHYS: Oh ... wait ...
RHYS: does Jack fancy him or something?
MR JONES: Pffffffffffffft. As if.
MR JONES: .. okay he might a little.
RHYS: A funny, clever, gay man in a three piece suit. What's not to like?
MR JONES: Well, for starters he doesn't always wear a tie with said suit.
MR JONES: That is just plain wrong.
RHYS: Is it?
MR JONES: If you're wearing a suit, two piece or three, putting on a tie is part of getting dressed.
MR JONES: As is tucking in your shirt. *hint hint*
RHYS: *nervously tucks in shirt*
RHYS: So ... you don't like Derren Brown because Jack fancies the adorable lil chappie and his magic tricks?
MR JONES: You don't like John Barrowfield because Gwen has his calendar!
RHYS: Fair point.
MR JONES: I know ^_^
RHYS: Yay! Let's be petty together!
MR JONES: Boo ya!
MR JONES: Okays I need to log off now.
RHYS: Okay see you soon *non-homosexual yet intimate hugsies bye bye*
MR JONES: *non-homosexual yet intimate hugsies bye bye back*
RHYS: And don't forget about the maternity plan!
MR JONES has left the conversation
Jack stood in the doorway, and Ianto noticed he seemed to be a little paler than usual.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"Still a bit queasy, is all." Jack tried to give him a reassuring smile, stepping over the threshold into the flat, kicking off his boots and sinking into the sofa. Ianto sat beside him cautiously.
"You're really pale, Jack."
"It's you I'm more worried about." Jack said, frowning at Ianto. "How's the pain? Do the painkillers work?"
"Shoot me again and I probably wouldn't feel it." joked Ianto, but a shadow crossed Jack's features. Slowly, he reached for Ianto's leg and pulled it across his lap and pushed the fabric of his trousers up a little, inspecting the dressing on the bullet wound. "I'm fine, Jack." Ianto assured him. "It doesn't even ache."
"It's my fault." sighed Jack. "Should have been quicker ..."
"Ohhh no. Don't you start with that!" Ianto snatched his leg back and curled both of them under him, facing Jack properly. "If you hadn't pushed me when you did, it would have been a helluva lot worse."
"I nearly lost you ..."
"You came no where near to losing me."
"I did. You know I did."
"I know that I'm here now and that's what you should be concentrating on."
Jack turned to him and smiled. "Yeah ..." he agreed. "But I can't help bu-"
Ianto cut off his sentence by pressing their lips together, moving to sit on Jack's lap so that they could hold each other properly. They kissed for a few minutes, before Ianto broke away. "Uh ... Jack ..."
"Yeah?" Jack smiled at him with dark eyes. "Don't worry ... I'll just keep you on your back ..." he murmured enticingly, leaning forward to kiss him again.
Ianto pushed him back gently. "It's ... not that ..."
Jack frowned. "What is it?"
"Erm ..." Ianto shifted a little uncomfortably. "... I think those painkillers might have ... y'know ... numbed areas that we still want to make use of ..."
Alarm crossed the Captain's features, and he pressed his palm to Ianto's unresponsive groin. He squeezed and played a little. "Anything?"
"Nope. Nothing." sighed Ianto, throwing himself backwards onto the couch and crossing his ankles over Jack's lap. "Bloody Blowfish."
"Bloody Torchwood." scowled Jack.
They went to bed that night, curled up, warm and happy having spent the evening chatting, watching Paul O'Grady and cooking together. Ianto slept peacefully, Jack's head on his chest and arm thrown around him. Jack lay awake, listening to Ianto's heartbeat and worrying his bottom lip.
Every time he closed his eyes, he could see the events of that day unfolding in his mind's eye. Just a routine Blowfish - this one had decided to go for a motorbike - easily subdued and brought in if not intoxicated; probably about to get shot if it was. This one had lead them to a car park, busy with people arriving to park for work, and had caused a scene. Jack had gone in first, Webley drawn as Ianto used his best commanding voice to tell the members of the public to stay calm. Hearing the authority in his voice, the Blowfish had turned on him.
"Ianto Jones ..." it snarled, and Jack decided to wonder on how it knew Ianto's name when they were in a more secure environment. "... little coffee boy. What are you doing out so early? Aren't you supposed to be hidden underground so that only your boss can look at you? Because he does look. He never stops looking ...."
Ianto didn't react, simply raising his handgun a little higher and quirking an eyebrow. The Blowfish turned to Jack.
"Long way from home." it commented. "Still ... that doesn't stop you trying to make a new one ..."
People screamed as the Blowfish suddenly withdrew a gun, pointing it straight between Ianto's eyes.
"... with him? Or with the green-eyed girl? Or neither?" it taunted.
"What do you want?" Jack snapped, very aware that one pull of the trigger meant his world would fall apart. Ianto didn't even look afraid, and Jack was proud of him for that. His eyes rolled as the gun had been turned on him, but beyond that he showed no concern for the imminent death pointed straight at his head. Dammit, thought Jack. Gotta get closer to Ianto ...
"Heroin. Or I kill the boy." the Blowfish demanded.
"I don't have any on me, shockingly." Jack scathed, edging a little to the side, trying to get within touching distance of his partner.
"Then I'll just keep hold of him until you get me some." the Blowfish replied, taking a step forward. Jack took the distraction of the Blowfish moving and Ianto flicking the safety off his gun to get a little closer to him. He could reach out and grab him now, if needed.
"Yeah ... and what if I can't get hold of any? It's not exactly an over-the-counter drug."
The Blowfish raised the gun and fired a shot into the air by way of reply.
"I see." Jack pondered. "Well ..." he said, raising his Webley. "The way I see it is-"
BANG
Jack shot it. He'd seen the Blowfish's finger twitch and he'd shot it dead. The members of the public who had fallen silent were now screaming, and Ianto was rushing over to the body, pulling it backwards a little and making sure it was definitely dead. He gave Jack a nod, the two of them calm in the ocean of chaos that was Frightened Members of Public.
Rising to his feet, Ianto went about clearing the crowd and calling Gwen to bring the gurney from the SUV. Jack began to pat down the body in search of weapons and ID. By chance he glanced up, and saw the little red dot on the back of Ianto's head.
He didn't even know he could move so fast. Before he even realized he'd got to his feet, he was on the ground again with Ianto beneath him, pinned to the cold concrete and grazing his front. A bullet ricocheted off a nearby car, and the crowd started screaming and running. Jack stared frantically around, trying to search out a possible gunman while keeping as much of Ianto's body covered by his as possible. Ianto was indignant, however, and was trying to push him off.
"Keep down!" Jack hissed, spotting the scraped paint of a nearby car where the bullet had bounced off it and judging the direction of the sniper from that. He kept himself firmly between Ianto and where the gunman (or woman) might be. He saw a flurry of movement, and heard a silencer.
Again his speed was surprising to him, and he shoved a nearly-upright Ianto out of the way, his stomach knotting when he heard his beautiful vocal chords tighten in a harsh scream of pain. Jack shot blindly, releasing his remaining rounds until he heard the dull thud of a body hitting the ground. He threw himself down by Ianto, saying a silent prayer of thanks to whatever may or may not be listening, that Ianto had only been shot in the leg.
A creak of wheels behind him alerted him to Gwen's arrival with the gurney, and he sat by Ianto and soothed him as she asked her questions and offered empathy of her own. Ianto insisted he was fine, applying hard pressure to his wound and trying not to whimper. Jack helped Gwen get the two bodies haphazardly onto the gurney, noticing the second sniper had also been a Blowfish (not hard to miss).
As Gwen wheeled the bodies away, Jack lifted Ianto as best he could, supporting him on his injured side and getting him to the medical bay as quickly as he could drive. He would worry about Sniper Blowfish and their Reasons later. Once in the Hub, Jack injected Ianto with as many painkillers as he could, until he was certain he couldn't feel any discomfort.
Now, as Jack listened to Ianto's heartbeat, he shuddered to think what he might have lost that morning. He'd spent the day cleaning the mess on autopilot, snapping at Gwen and being generally moody. He couldn't look at Ianto, feeling too guilty for reasons he didn't know. Raising his head a little, he could make out Ianto's peaceful, young, sleeping face glowing in the moonlight.
What if he hadn't looked up at that moment? What if Ianto was in the morgue, rather than in bed? What if Jack had never got the chance to see him smile, or hear him laugh, or hold him tight ever again? Jack reached up and touched his face, worrying his lip even more and running over some options in his head.
Ianto was right - Jack had been taking things slow because he had all the time in the world. Ianto might not make it through tomorrow.
Rolling on to his back, Jack knew he'd made his decision.
The only problem would be convincing Ianto it was be the right one ....
FIN
:|
She can't end it there!
Yes she can! It's 04:28 and insomnia will only stop me throwing my computer against the wall for so long!
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2009-09-28 04:05 am (UTC)Ianto and Rhys are so cute together:D I am slightly scared though that Banana Boat pulled a woman*raises eyebrow*
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Date: 2009-09-28 04:06 am (UTC)The only problem would convincing Ianto it was be the right one ....
My face was already forming an smile after the first sentence because well I my shippy romantic heart thought about what decision it was; smile that didn't manage to form but turned into a frown after reading the second sentence. Oh Jack, what is your mind thinking now?
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Date: 2009-09-28 04:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-28 04:55 am (UTC)And YAY for Ianto/Rhys moments! I missed them. :D
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Date: 2009-09-28 05:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-28 05:54 am (UTC)Heehee -- brilliant update! :-D
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Date: 2009-09-28 05:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-28 06:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-28 07:18 am (UTC)I always love Ianto and Rhys banter! Almost as much as I like Jack and Ianto kisses :D
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Date: 2009-09-28 07:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-28 07:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-28 08:57 am (UTC)If I didn't already know this was an AU, Banana Boat successfully pulling would have clarified it completely. :)
Ianto got shot again! Yet, somehow, I feel more sorry for Jack than I do for Ianto. I'm going to need a "Jack Needs Hugs" icon at this rate.
Captain Jack Has An Idea™. Oh dear, time to panic.
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Date: 2009-09-28 07:14 pm (UTC)I'd call it Ranto.
or Yanice.
Or [sort of]Real Men United.
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Date: 2009-09-28 07:52 pm (UTC)But...Yanice? Yanice? Oh. My. God. :(
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Date: 2009-09-28 12:26 pm (UTC)I loved this line. :)
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Date: 2009-09-28 12:29 pm (UTC)Great update!
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Date: 2009-09-28 01:48 pm (UTC)I love all the damned blowfish.
Pre-tea me here in the morning, I perhapse will have more to say after I ingest some cafine in the from Ceylon Kenilworth.
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Date: 2009-09-28 03:05 pm (UTC)(Yeah, I know. It's never worked with my family, so why should it work now?)
I absolutely adore the intimate but totally not homosexual relationship of Ianto and Rhys. If the BBC had any sense, they'd have Torchwood as a very Jack/Ianto-centric action/smut/adventure series and then a spin-off comedy with Rhys and Ianto. Gwen might make an occasional guest appearance on either, but mostly she'd occupy the void between the two. This is what I want for Christmas! I'm writing Santa immediately!
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Date: 2009-09-28 03:35 pm (UTC)...and now I wonder what Jack has in mind...
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Date: 2009-09-28 05:11 pm (UTC)And OMG!!!! What is Jack's plan????? *dies of the antici..........................................pation*
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Date: 2009-09-28 05:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-29 11:25 am (UTC)One day JB is going to play Frank and I will crawl over broken glass to see that!!!!
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Date: 2009-10-03 04:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-28 06:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-28 08:19 pm (UTC)loved it
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Date: 2009-09-28 08:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-29 01:19 am (UTC)I love the IM's. Ianto needs Rhys to provide some sense of normalcy in his life, as odd as that may be.
What IS Jack planning? It better involve some actual smut!!