Torchwood Ficlets
Spoilers for s1.
“Minesweeper isn’t appropriate use of office technology,” Jack said.
“Neither is downloading porn,” Owen replied.
Jack smirked, leaned one hip against the desk, and crossed his arms. “But I’m the boss.”
Owen continued to look bored.
Jack continued to hover.
Owen’s Minesweeper skills began to falter.
Jack continued to smirk.
“What?” Owen demanded. He exed out the window and focused his gaze on Jack.
“What happened while I was gone?”
“The reports categorized by incident, first letter, and injuries sustained aren’t clear enough? Did your unexpected holiday involve brain damaging activities?”
“I don’t want to know what we’re telling the prime minister. I want to know what really happened.”
Owen shoved his chair out, placed his feet up on the desk, and folded his hands behind his head. “You want to know what really happened? Gwen shut down, Tosh barely slept for the first week whilst she was trying to clean up the CCTV footage, Ianto broke the coffee pot, and I didn’t have a single shag.”
“Ianto broke the coffee pot?”
Owen rolled his eyes. “Basically, everyone was suitably lost without you and we realized that we can’t run Torchwood or our lives without you. Happy?”
Jack smiled, wolfishly. “Thrilled.”
Title: First Base
Words: 555
Fandom: Torchwood
Notes: Jack/Ianto, Jack/other, set sometime in series two. For fiction_stadium.
“So. You hit the ball,” Ianto said.
“Yes,” Jack answered.
“And then you run in a circle.”
“More of a diamond shape, but that’s the general idea, yes.”
“But if you don’t complete the circle-excuse me, diamond, before one of your teammates mucks it up-”
“Before three of them muck it up, actually.”
Ianto nodded. “Then you score no points.”
“Exactly.”
Ianto nodded again. “No wonder the game goes extinct by the 51st century. It sounds very dull.”
“Right, but you’re not seeing the beauty of it,” Jack insisted.
“Which is what, exactly?”
“He had the most incredible arms. That’s what footballers miss-they don’t have to use their arms for much of anything.”
“That’s because you’re not supposed to touch the ball unless you’re the goalkeeper.”
“Right, so upper arm strength isn’t utilized-unless you’re the goalkeeper. But in baseball. Every little boy dreams of hitting a homerun in Venutian Fields Park. And to do that-”
“-upper arm strength is required. But you said the game was nearly extinct by your time.”
“Right.”
“Then why would every boy dream of hitting a home run if the game was nearly extinct?”
“Because sweeping generalizations sound more romantic than saying that only one out of one hundred little boys dreamed of it, and this is the story of why I prefer baseball to football.”
“Actually, the story was supposed to be about your first crush.”
“Well, they’re really one in the same. My first crush played baseball. He dreamed of hitting a home run in Venutian Fields Park. And he certainly looked good doing it.”
“I see.” A beat. “No, no I really don’t. Your first crush was when you were 20?”
A wolfish grin. “No, he was just the first juicy one.”
Exasperation. “Then how does that answer my question?”
“What do you mean? How doesn’t it?”
“It’s not the truth. It’s not really your first crush.”
“Yes, but you’re the one who accused me of being evasive.”
“So you answer my question, asked with the understanding that I could ask you anything to make you seem less mysterious and evasive . . . with an untruthful answer?”
“It’s a version of the truth. I promised nothing about being truthful. I do have to keep up my masculine mystique after all.”
Ianto sat back in his chair and regarded both Jack and his own wine glass thoughtfully. “As dates go, this may be the strangest I’ve ever been on.”
“This is your desired scenario the floating ball of gas put us in. I wonder when it’ll be over.”
“How thoughtful of you.”
“Don’t get offended, I’ve just been considering what dream scenario of mine we might find ourselves in after this one’s done.”
The predatory grin made Ianto raise an eyebrow. He considered Gwen, Tosh, and Owen bustling around in the hub beyond the bubble encapsulating their date, attempting to dislodge them from it. Gwen appeared to shout something at them, but the words were too muffled by the edge of the sphere to be comprehensible. It was clear, however, that Ianto and Jack were perfectly visible to her.
“I would imagine that your dream situation might be best left for somewhere away from prying eyes. Besides, our date isn’t over yet.”
Jack grinned. “So now I get to ask you a question?”
“Minesweeper isn’t appropriate use of office technology,” Jack said.
“Neither is downloading porn,” Owen replied.
Jack smirked, leaned one hip against the desk, and crossed his arms. “But I’m the boss.”
Owen continued to look bored.
Jack continued to hover.
Owen’s Minesweeper skills began to falter.
Jack continued to smirk.
“What?” Owen demanded. He exed out the window and focused his gaze on Jack.
“What happened while I was gone?”
“The reports categorized by incident, first letter, and injuries sustained aren’t clear enough? Did your unexpected holiday involve brain damaging activities?”
“I don’t want to know what we’re telling the prime minister. I want to know what really happened.”
Owen shoved his chair out, placed his feet up on the desk, and folded his hands behind his head. “You want to know what really happened? Gwen shut down, Tosh barely slept for the first week whilst she was trying to clean up the CCTV footage, Ianto broke the coffee pot, and I didn’t have a single shag.”
“Ianto broke the coffee pot?”
Owen rolled his eyes. “Basically, everyone was suitably lost without you and we realized that we can’t run Torchwood or our lives without you. Happy?”
Jack smiled, wolfishly. “Thrilled.”
Title: First Base
Words: 555
Fandom: Torchwood
Notes: Jack/Ianto, Jack/other, set sometime in series two. For fiction_stadium.
“So. You hit the ball,” Ianto said.
“Yes,” Jack answered.
“And then you run in a circle.”
“More of a diamond shape, but that’s the general idea, yes.”
“But if you don’t complete the circle-excuse me, diamond, before one of your teammates mucks it up-”
“Before three of them muck it up, actually.”
Ianto nodded. “Then you score no points.”
“Exactly.”
Ianto nodded again. “No wonder the game goes extinct by the 51st century. It sounds very dull.”
“Right, but you’re not seeing the beauty of it,” Jack insisted.
“Which is what, exactly?”
“He had the most incredible arms. That’s what footballers miss-they don’t have to use their arms for much of anything.”
“That’s because you’re not supposed to touch the ball unless you’re the goalkeeper.”
“Right, so upper arm strength isn’t utilized-unless you’re the goalkeeper. But in baseball. Every little boy dreams of hitting a homerun in Venutian Fields Park. And to do that-”
“-upper arm strength is required. But you said the game was nearly extinct by your time.”
“Right.”
“Then why would every boy dream of hitting a home run if the game was nearly extinct?”
“Because sweeping generalizations sound more romantic than saying that only one out of one hundred little boys dreamed of it, and this is the story of why I prefer baseball to football.”
“Actually, the story was supposed to be about your first crush.”
“Well, they’re really one in the same. My first crush played baseball. He dreamed of hitting a home run in Venutian Fields Park. And he certainly looked good doing it.”
“I see.” A beat. “No, no I really don’t. Your first crush was when you were 20?”
A wolfish grin. “No, he was just the first juicy one.”
Exasperation. “Then how does that answer my question?”
“What do you mean? How doesn’t it?”
“It’s not the truth. It’s not really your first crush.”
“Yes, but you’re the one who accused me of being evasive.”
“So you answer my question, asked with the understanding that I could ask you anything to make you seem less mysterious and evasive . . . with an untruthful answer?”
“It’s a version of the truth. I promised nothing about being truthful. I do have to keep up my masculine mystique after all.”
Ianto sat back in his chair and regarded both Jack and his own wine glass thoughtfully. “As dates go, this may be the strangest I’ve ever been on.”
“This is your desired scenario the floating ball of gas put us in. I wonder when it’ll be over.”
“How thoughtful of you.”
“Don’t get offended, I’ve just been considering what dream scenario of mine we might find ourselves in after this one’s done.”
The predatory grin made Ianto raise an eyebrow. He considered Gwen, Tosh, and Owen bustling around in the hub beyond the bubble encapsulating their date, attempting to dislodge them from it. Gwen appeared to shout something at them, but the words were too muffled by the edge of the sphere to be comprehensible. It was clear, however, that Ianto and Jack were perfectly visible to her.
“I would imagine that your dream situation might be best left for somewhere away from prying eyes. Besides, our date isn’t over yet.”
Jack grinned. “So now I get to ask you a question?”