Torchwood Fic
Two fic posts in a row? Unheard of! I promise I'll have something with shiny pictures and the like very soon. :)
And yes, that's right folks, not only have I written TVD fic, but I'm taking a shot at Torchwood thanks to a prompt from lint138. All kinds of crazy things happening up in here! :)
Torchwood -->> Jack/Gwen, tea for two (and Ianto sort of took over this ficlet all of his own accord, I swear)
When they ask for tea this time, they grin at each other without noticing he is leaving the room, and he isn’t surprised by the quickest wave of jealousy that momentarily overtakes him. He wishes he still was, but the good ship Green Envy sailed 100 afternoon meetings or so ago. It’s not his proudest few seconds of the day - and it is only ever seconds - but as many times as he’s tried to stop the emotion creeping in (or hitting him like a truck, whichever case it may be) he has failed just as many. He just has to close his eyes and sigh, then focus on keeping his hands busy for a few minutes.
By the time he’s made it back with the small tray, steam swirling out of two mugs, he can appreciate the small, secret wink Jack gives him as he leans over to place his tea on the table before him. “Tea for two,” he announces, and says you’re welcome on cue and nods as Gwen catches his eye.
Backing out of a room gracefully is a skill he’s acquired at Torchwood, and if he ever leaves the place, he’s sure he’d like to put it on his resume. It comes in handy now as he tries to essentially fade from the room, silently as not to interrupt their process. He is almost out the door when a second wave, stronger the first customary one, genuinely shocks him. Instead of pouring over notes or reports strewn across the table like most days, he looks up to find them laughing, completely unaware anyone else exists in the world, like he was never there.
He lingers in the doorway with a shame that shouldn’t be this familiar and simply watches them as their laughter turns to giggling, beaming at one another when the mood has calmed. It doesn’t bother him, really, and God knows being possessive doesn’t look good on him, but he slips away knowing neither of them even knew he was still there.
Trudging down the stairs, he goes over security protocols and catalogs the contents of the cupboards, anything to clear his head. It doesn’t bother him. Honestly. Maybe he just hopes it won’t bother him tomorrow, at least not for more than a few seconds.
And yes, that's right folks, not only have I written TVD fic, but I'm taking a shot at Torchwood thanks to a prompt from lint138. All kinds of crazy things happening up in here! :)
Torchwood -->> Jack/Gwen, tea for two (and Ianto sort of took over this ficlet all of his own accord, I swear)
When they ask for tea this time, they grin at each other without noticing he is leaving the room, and he isn’t surprised by the quickest wave of jealousy that momentarily overtakes him. He wishes he still was, but the good ship Green Envy sailed 100 afternoon meetings or so ago. It’s not his proudest few seconds of the day - and it is only ever seconds - but as many times as he’s tried to stop the emotion creeping in (or hitting him like a truck, whichever case it may be) he has failed just as many. He just has to close his eyes and sigh, then focus on keeping his hands busy for a few minutes.
By the time he’s made it back with the small tray, steam swirling out of two mugs, he can appreciate the small, secret wink Jack gives him as he leans over to place his tea on the table before him. “Tea for two,” he announces, and says you’re welcome on cue and nods as Gwen catches his eye.
Backing out of a room gracefully is a skill he’s acquired at Torchwood, and if he ever leaves the place, he’s sure he’d like to put it on his resume. It comes in handy now as he tries to essentially fade from the room, silently as not to interrupt their process. He is almost out the door when a second wave, stronger the first customary one, genuinely shocks him. Instead of pouring over notes or reports strewn across the table like most days, he looks up to find them laughing, completely unaware anyone else exists in the world, like he was never there.
He lingers in the doorway with a shame that shouldn’t be this familiar and simply watches them as their laughter turns to giggling, beaming at one another when the mood has calmed. It doesn’t bother him, really, and God knows being possessive doesn’t look good on him, but he slips away knowing neither of them even knew he was still there.
Trudging down the stairs, he goes over security protocols and catalogs the contents of the cupboards, anything to clear his head. It doesn’t bother him. Honestly. Maybe he just hopes it won’t bother him tomorrow, at least not for more than a few seconds.