Fic: "I dare you!"
Title: I dare you!
Author: aibhinn
Rating: PG
Summary: The Torchwood team indulges in a round-robin game of 'dare', in which the piss is thoroughly taken out of Owen.
Pairing: Implied Jack/Ianto and Rhys/Gwen
Author's Note: Written for Isabelle, for the Support Stacie auction. She wanted to see the team daring each other. It's turned out very, very silly, but it's been fun to write!
"Best two out of three?" Ianto offered as Owen pulled the darts out of the dart board with a growl. It wasn't often that Owen found himself beaten at his favourite game, and being beaten by the tea-boy didn't help his ego any. Not that he'd have put it like that, of course.
"Got a better idea," he said, handing the red-ringed darts back to Ianto and fingering his own green-ringed ones. "Winner gets to dare the loser-dare 'im anything. And the loser has to do it."
Ianto's eyebrow went up. "You really want to do that?" he asked. "You're sure?"
Owen huffed. "Wouldn't have suggested it otherwise," he pointed out. "C'mon, Ianto. Or are you really that afraid of what I'd dare you to do?"
"I'm not afraid of anything," Ianto said. It didn't help Owen's temper that he wasn't boasting; he was as calm now as he ever was. "All right, dare it is."
When Owen's first dart hit the bull's-eye, he was feeling pretty damn confident.
When his last hit the outer ring, while all three red-ringed darts bristled from the centre of the board, he wasn't feeling quite so confident any more.
***
The door to Jack's office opened, and out of the corner of his eye, Jack could see a figure move inside. The smell of coffee reached him, and he inhaled appreciatively. "Thanks, Ianto," he said without looking up.
"Look again," Owen's voice said sourly.
Startled, Jack raised his head to see Owen standing there with a cup of coffee, wearing a frilly apron and a starched white maid's cap from the previous century. "Why, Owen," Jack said with a smirk, sitting back and tossing his pen onto the desk. "I had no idea. My own fault; I should really know more about my employees. Maybe we could have a 'Come Dressed As Your Favourite Kink' day…."
"Ha. Ha. Ha." Owen set the coffee down carefully enough that it didn't slop over the rim, but with clear irritation. "This is Ianto's idea; I've got nothing to do with it."
"Oh, yes. The lost bet." Jack's smirk broadened. "You didn't know Ianto's a championship-level dart thrower?"
"I do now." Owen's hands were on his hips, every line of his body radiating his annoyance. "Anything else?"
Jack tilted his head to the side, considering. "Not unless I could persuade you to put on the little skirt and fishnets, too…."
The look Owen gave him should have burned holes right through him, but he only chuckled. "No, Owen, there's nothing else. You might talk to Ianto about letting you take off the apron if you end up doing any post-mortems, though; it would be a shame to get alien guts all over it."
"You wouldn't be laughing if you'd been the one dared," Owen snapped.
"Oh, I don't have a problem with dressing up," Jack said. "I'm comfortable enough in my masculinity. Besides, doesn't everyone want to feel pretty sometimes?" He batted his eyes.
Owen leant forward, palms on Jack's desk. "All right then," he said. "I dare you to ask Gwen to wear a French maid's outfit to work herself. The whole thing, mind, not just the cap and apron."
"Not a problem," Jack said confidently. "Time limit for getting her to do it?"
"One week. I want to see her walking around in fishnets and a short skirt no later than next Monday."
"You got it." Jack picked up his pen. "Now get out of my office. I have work to do, and I can't do it if you're going to stand there looking adorable."
With a huff, Owen left, leaving Jack to wonder just how he was going to work up the guts to ask Gwen anything of the sort. She had a wicked left hook. "Ah, well," he said aloud to himself. "At least I'll heal fast."
***
Gwen got into the SUV and blew out a breath, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands. "One more 'alien mystery' debunked," she said to Jack, her voice full of the exhaustion that was threatening to drag her down. "Who ever thought that a ham radio operator could cause so much trouble?"
"At least it wasn't another lost alien scout getting everyone to introduce themselves to each other endlessly," Jack observed, buckling his seatbelt.
"True." She leaned her head against the back of the seat and closed her eyes. "I'm ready for home," she said longingly. "Any chance I could skive off early?"
"With all the overtime you've been putting in lately? No problem. Though I do have a question for you."
"Mm?" she asked, eyes still closed.
"Would you be willing to wear a French maid's costume to work tomorrow?"
Her eyes flew open and she turned right around to face Jack in the driver's seat. "What?" she asked, shocked.
Jack held up his hands to forestall the flare of temper he must have known was on its way. "Before you explode, let me explain."
"I think you'd better," she agreed coldly. She was certainly wide awake now.
He gave her a quick rundown of the reason behind Owen's fancy dress the other day-which she'd already known-and then what had transpired in his office, which she'd not.
"So you're asking me to dress up like some tart just to satisfy Owen's prurience?" she demanded.
"Mine, too!" Jack said in a wounded voice. She rolled her eyes, and he continued, "No, I'm kidding. I'm asking you to dress up because it'll make Owen absolutely nuts that I managed to talk you into it. He'll spend days wondering just what exactly I did to convince you, and then manage to make an ass of himself by trying to find a way to get you to do it again."
"Which of course I won't," Gwen said. She was starting to get the idea.
"Of course," Jack said, as if there had never been a question. She hoped there hadn't. "You don't have to wear it all day, just long enough for him to see you in it. You can even make up some reason why you're wearing it; I don't care. Just show up, wear it for five or ten minutes, and then change back into your normal clothes. Please?"
Despite herself, Gwen was starting to rather like the idea. Putting one over on Owen wasn't always easy, but it was always worth it. Rhys was out of town for Banana Boat's best friend's wedding, so it would be a good excuse to buy the costume; she could wear it for him when he came back. And it would be truly amusing to take Owen down a peg or two when he tried to get her to wear it again. "All right," she said, then added, "But you're buying me drinks for the next week."
Jack grinned brightly. "Whatever you say."
***
"You're going to wear what?" Tosh asked, shocked.
"It's only to take the piss out of Owen," Gwen explained. "And only for a few minutes."
"Yes, but…but…you're going to wear naughty lingerie to work??" Tosh couldn't wrap her brain around the idea. Gwen had always been professional at work, beyond the ordinary sort of office pranks; this was so far out of character that Tosh couldn't quite comprehend it.
"I know, I know, but it's a good cause, don't you think? Taking Owen down a peg? Besides, it'll give me an excuse to buy the outfit anyway." Gwen grinned. "You should do it too! Imagine Owen's face if we both walk out in lingerie."
Tosh's jaw dropped. "M-me?" she stammered. "You want me to dress up for Owen?" Not that wearing lingerie for Owen was a bad thing, but she'd rather wanted it to be a more private showing….
"Go on," Gwen urged. "It'll be fun, just to watch his face." She leant forward and said, "I dare you."
"There's a lot of that going on recently," Tosh said, but a smile was beginning to form despite herself. "Does it have to be a French maid outfit?"
"Yours? No. What did you have in mind?"
Tosh tossed some money down on the table to pay for their dinners and stood up, feeling a little giddy. "I'll show you. Come on, let's go down to the shop now, before I lose my nerve."
Gwen laughed and the two of them left together, giggling like teenagers.
***
Ianto stood beside the filing cabinet, watching the scene unfolding before him. Poor Owen didn't know where to look; between Gwen in her French maid's outfit and Tosh in the shortest, tightest nurse's uniform he'd ever seen, the medic was nearly beside himself. It was even funnier because the two women were apparently conspiring to stay on opposite sides of the room, forcing Owen to turn back and forth, destroying any attempt at being surreptitious about his interest. "It's like the donkey between two haystacks," he said to Jack, who was hovering next to him, also watching the show.
"Mm. And if I know those two ladies, he will starve before he gets either one." Jack chuckled and clapped Ianto on the shoulder before moving off towards his office. "This damn paperwork isn't getting done by itself, more's the pity," he said as he went.
Neither was Ianto's filing, but he couldn't bring himself to stop watching just yet. The schadenfreude was too entertaining.
Tosh sauntered up to him, an added swing to her hips as she went. "Here are those two translation files I closed out this morning," she said, handing the folders to Ianto.
"You really are evil, you know," Ianto said, taking them from her with a smile. "Remind me never to piss you off."
"Oh, but you'd enjoy it while you suffered," Tosh said with an uncharacteristically naughty smirk. "But, you know, you could get in on the fun."
"I didn't think Owen swung that way."
"Not Owen," Tosh explained. "Jack. Since it was his idea we dress like this anyway. It's really only fair. Skintight leather trousers, dark mesh shirt…." She grinned. "You could have a lot of fun with it."
Ianto's eyebrows went up as he considered. "Hm. It does have its possibilities."
"Would it help if I dared you?"
He laughed outright. "No, but feel free to do it anyway if you'd like." He glanced at his watch. "It's been fifteen minutes; how long are you two planning to torment Owen?"
"Oh, I think we'll change shortly. But if you wanted to run any errands in the meantime, we'd be happy to cover for you."
Ianto let a soft smirk twist his mouth. "Maybe this evening. I'd rather not be interrupted."
***
Tosh came in early the next morning. She'd finished working on a new search programme the night before, and had left it to compile; today she wanted to check for bugs before the others got in.
To her surprise, Jack was already hard at work at his desk. He rarely slept, she knew, but she'd thought he was planning to spend the night at Ianto's last night. "Morning," she said.
"Morning." He came out of his office and stuck his hands in his pockets. "I understand I have you to thank for a certain young man's shopping trip yesterday."
She raised her eyebrows. "Maybe," she allowed. "Why?"
"I have just one thing to say to you." He came up to her and took her face in his hands, and kissed her. "Thank you," he said. "Really. Really, thank you."
She giggled, and he released her. "You're welcome," she said, a silly grin on her face. He grinned back and headed up to the conference room, taking the steps two at a time and whistling. She sat down and pulled up her new programme.
There were times she loved her job.
Author: aibhinn
Rating: PG
Summary: The Torchwood team indulges in a round-robin game of 'dare', in which the piss is thoroughly taken out of Owen.
Pairing: Implied Jack/Ianto and Rhys/Gwen
Author's Note: Written for Isabelle, for the Support Stacie auction. She wanted to see the team daring each other. It's turned out very, very silly, but it's been fun to write!
"Best two out of three?" Ianto offered as Owen pulled the darts out of the dart board with a growl. It wasn't often that Owen found himself beaten at his favourite game, and being beaten by the tea-boy didn't help his ego any. Not that he'd have put it like that, of course.
"Got a better idea," he said, handing the red-ringed darts back to Ianto and fingering his own green-ringed ones. "Winner gets to dare the loser-dare 'im anything. And the loser has to do it."
Ianto's eyebrow went up. "You really want to do that?" he asked. "You're sure?"
Owen huffed. "Wouldn't have suggested it otherwise," he pointed out. "C'mon, Ianto. Or are you really that afraid of what I'd dare you to do?"
"I'm not afraid of anything," Ianto said. It didn't help Owen's temper that he wasn't boasting; he was as calm now as he ever was. "All right, dare it is."
When Owen's first dart hit the bull's-eye, he was feeling pretty damn confident.
When his last hit the outer ring, while all three red-ringed darts bristled from the centre of the board, he wasn't feeling quite so confident any more.
***
The door to Jack's office opened, and out of the corner of his eye, Jack could see a figure move inside. The smell of coffee reached him, and he inhaled appreciatively. "Thanks, Ianto," he said without looking up.
"Look again," Owen's voice said sourly.
Startled, Jack raised his head to see Owen standing there with a cup of coffee, wearing a frilly apron and a starched white maid's cap from the previous century. "Why, Owen," Jack said with a smirk, sitting back and tossing his pen onto the desk. "I had no idea. My own fault; I should really know more about my employees. Maybe we could have a 'Come Dressed As Your Favourite Kink' day…."
"Ha. Ha. Ha." Owen set the coffee down carefully enough that it didn't slop over the rim, but with clear irritation. "This is Ianto's idea; I've got nothing to do with it."
"Oh, yes. The lost bet." Jack's smirk broadened. "You didn't know Ianto's a championship-level dart thrower?"
"I do now." Owen's hands were on his hips, every line of his body radiating his annoyance. "Anything else?"
Jack tilted his head to the side, considering. "Not unless I could persuade you to put on the little skirt and fishnets, too…."
The look Owen gave him should have burned holes right through him, but he only chuckled. "No, Owen, there's nothing else. You might talk to Ianto about letting you take off the apron if you end up doing any post-mortems, though; it would be a shame to get alien guts all over it."
"You wouldn't be laughing if you'd been the one dared," Owen snapped.
"Oh, I don't have a problem with dressing up," Jack said. "I'm comfortable enough in my masculinity. Besides, doesn't everyone want to feel pretty sometimes?" He batted his eyes.
Owen leant forward, palms on Jack's desk. "All right then," he said. "I dare you to ask Gwen to wear a French maid's outfit to work herself. The whole thing, mind, not just the cap and apron."
"Not a problem," Jack said confidently. "Time limit for getting her to do it?"
"One week. I want to see her walking around in fishnets and a short skirt no later than next Monday."
"You got it." Jack picked up his pen. "Now get out of my office. I have work to do, and I can't do it if you're going to stand there looking adorable."
With a huff, Owen left, leaving Jack to wonder just how he was going to work up the guts to ask Gwen anything of the sort. She had a wicked left hook. "Ah, well," he said aloud to himself. "At least I'll heal fast."
***
Gwen got into the SUV and blew out a breath, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands. "One more 'alien mystery' debunked," she said to Jack, her voice full of the exhaustion that was threatening to drag her down. "Who ever thought that a ham radio operator could cause so much trouble?"
"At least it wasn't another lost alien scout getting everyone to introduce themselves to each other endlessly," Jack observed, buckling his seatbelt.
"True." She leaned her head against the back of the seat and closed her eyes. "I'm ready for home," she said longingly. "Any chance I could skive off early?"
"With all the overtime you've been putting in lately? No problem. Though I do have a question for you."
"Mm?" she asked, eyes still closed.
"Would you be willing to wear a French maid's costume to work tomorrow?"
Her eyes flew open and she turned right around to face Jack in the driver's seat. "What?" she asked, shocked.
Jack held up his hands to forestall the flare of temper he must have known was on its way. "Before you explode, let me explain."
"I think you'd better," she agreed coldly. She was certainly wide awake now.
He gave her a quick rundown of the reason behind Owen's fancy dress the other day-which she'd already known-and then what had transpired in his office, which she'd not.
"So you're asking me to dress up like some tart just to satisfy Owen's prurience?" she demanded.
"Mine, too!" Jack said in a wounded voice. She rolled her eyes, and he continued, "No, I'm kidding. I'm asking you to dress up because it'll make Owen absolutely nuts that I managed to talk you into it. He'll spend days wondering just what exactly I did to convince you, and then manage to make an ass of himself by trying to find a way to get you to do it again."
"Which of course I won't," Gwen said. She was starting to get the idea.
"Of course," Jack said, as if there had never been a question. She hoped there hadn't. "You don't have to wear it all day, just long enough for him to see you in it. You can even make up some reason why you're wearing it; I don't care. Just show up, wear it for five or ten minutes, and then change back into your normal clothes. Please?"
Despite herself, Gwen was starting to rather like the idea. Putting one over on Owen wasn't always easy, but it was always worth it. Rhys was out of town for Banana Boat's best friend's wedding, so it would be a good excuse to buy the costume; she could wear it for him when he came back. And it would be truly amusing to take Owen down a peg or two when he tried to get her to wear it again. "All right," she said, then added, "But you're buying me drinks for the next week."
Jack grinned brightly. "Whatever you say."
***
"You're going to wear what?" Tosh asked, shocked.
"It's only to take the piss out of Owen," Gwen explained. "And only for a few minutes."
"Yes, but…but…you're going to wear naughty lingerie to work??" Tosh couldn't wrap her brain around the idea. Gwen had always been professional at work, beyond the ordinary sort of office pranks; this was so far out of character that Tosh couldn't quite comprehend it.
"I know, I know, but it's a good cause, don't you think? Taking Owen down a peg? Besides, it'll give me an excuse to buy the outfit anyway." Gwen grinned. "You should do it too! Imagine Owen's face if we both walk out in lingerie."
Tosh's jaw dropped. "M-me?" she stammered. "You want me to dress up for Owen?" Not that wearing lingerie for Owen was a bad thing, but she'd rather wanted it to be a more private showing….
"Go on," Gwen urged. "It'll be fun, just to watch his face." She leant forward and said, "I dare you."
"There's a lot of that going on recently," Tosh said, but a smile was beginning to form despite herself. "Does it have to be a French maid outfit?"
"Yours? No. What did you have in mind?"
Tosh tossed some money down on the table to pay for their dinners and stood up, feeling a little giddy. "I'll show you. Come on, let's go down to the shop now, before I lose my nerve."
Gwen laughed and the two of them left together, giggling like teenagers.
***
Ianto stood beside the filing cabinet, watching the scene unfolding before him. Poor Owen didn't know where to look; between Gwen in her French maid's outfit and Tosh in the shortest, tightest nurse's uniform he'd ever seen, the medic was nearly beside himself. It was even funnier because the two women were apparently conspiring to stay on opposite sides of the room, forcing Owen to turn back and forth, destroying any attempt at being surreptitious about his interest. "It's like the donkey between two haystacks," he said to Jack, who was hovering next to him, also watching the show.
"Mm. And if I know those two ladies, he will starve before he gets either one." Jack chuckled and clapped Ianto on the shoulder before moving off towards his office. "This damn paperwork isn't getting done by itself, more's the pity," he said as he went.
Neither was Ianto's filing, but he couldn't bring himself to stop watching just yet. The schadenfreude was too entertaining.
Tosh sauntered up to him, an added swing to her hips as she went. "Here are those two translation files I closed out this morning," she said, handing the folders to Ianto.
"You really are evil, you know," Ianto said, taking them from her with a smile. "Remind me never to piss you off."
"Oh, but you'd enjoy it while you suffered," Tosh said with an uncharacteristically naughty smirk. "But, you know, you could get in on the fun."
"I didn't think Owen swung that way."
"Not Owen," Tosh explained. "Jack. Since it was his idea we dress like this anyway. It's really only fair. Skintight leather trousers, dark mesh shirt…." She grinned. "You could have a lot of fun with it."
Ianto's eyebrows went up as he considered. "Hm. It does have its possibilities."
"Would it help if I dared you?"
He laughed outright. "No, but feel free to do it anyway if you'd like." He glanced at his watch. "It's been fifteen minutes; how long are you two planning to torment Owen?"
"Oh, I think we'll change shortly. But if you wanted to run any errands in the meantime, we'd be happy to cover for you."
Ianto let a soft smirk twist his mouth. "Maybe this evening. I'd rather not be interrupted."
***
Tosh came in early the next morning. She'd finished working on a new search programme the night before, and had left it to compile; today she wanted to check for bugs before the others got in.
To her surprise, Jack was already hard at work at his desk. He rarely slept, she knew, but she'd thought he was planning to spend the night at Ianto's last night. "Morning," she said.
"Morning." He came out of his office and stuck his hands in his pockets. "I understand I have you to thank for a certain young man's shopping trip yesterday."
She raised her eyebrows. "Maybe," she allowed. "Why?"
"I have just one thing to say to you." He came up to her and took her face in his hands, and kissed her. "Thank you," he said. "Really. Really, thank you."
She giggled, and he released her. "You're welcome," she said, a silly grin on her face. He grinned back and headed up to the conference room, taking the steps two at a time and whistling. She sat down and pulled up her new programme.
There were times she loved her job.