WIP meme

[angstslashhope]

Been a while since I've done this meme. I have a few things on the go, so it's actually worth doing again!

And also, it's a tried and true method of procrastinating. Or, you know, "overcoming writer's block".

The WIPs (all Torchwood, all the time. Well, except for where they crossover with Doctor Who):

• The one with the office supplies porn (Jack/Ianto, pretty much a PWP). About 2/3rds done at 4700 words. Excerpt: Ianto braces one hand on the back of the chair by Jack's head and leans forward a little, bringing Jack's attention back to the screen. “Have you seen the other adhesive labels, sir? Page markers, I think they're categorised as. I bought a set myself this week.”
  
  “Oooh,” Jack says, hand moving back to the mouse, though he keeps his head tipped leisurely back against the chair, hair brushing Ianto's fingertips. “No, but I- Ahh.” His eyes crinkle shut and he gives a long, pleased sigh as Ianto brushes the bristle of plastic flags protruding from his stack of papers lightly along the side of Jack's neck. Jack tilts his head a little further, stretching his throat out for the inanimate, intimate touch.
  
  He holds the pose after Ianto stops, merely opening his eyes a crack to look up into Ianto's face with undisguised happiness.
  
  “Have you always had such an unhealthy fixation on office supplies, sir?”
  
  Jack shrugs, and pushes his feet against the floor enough to revolve the chair incrementally back and forth, the movement almost coy. “Only since I got a secretary.”
  
• The AU where the YTW doesn't happen, the Doctor abandons Jack on some distant planet, Team Torchwood come and rescue him (gen/canon pairings). Nearly finished at 3700 words (i.e. another 1000 or so to go), though I'd like to write more in this 'verse. Excerpt:Usually minor infringements carry a sentence not shorter than thirty hours; Jack hadn't expected to be released with his requisite fine until all three of the planet's suns were in the sky. Which, judging by the hazy gold of the light coming in through the plexi-roof, it's certainly not.
  
  “Move it,” the jailer says, losing patience; she jerks her thumb in the direction of the exit. “Don't want to keep your bailer waiting.”
  
  Jack smirks, sparing a moment to glance triumphantly one last time in Pug-face's direction, and walks past her with a saunter; his mind an abrupt turmoil of curiosity and apprehension. He crushes down the faint whisper of hope, but not enough to avoid the stab of disappointment when he's shoved through the door and gets the first glimpse of his saviour-battered leather trousers and jacket shaping what's clearly a female figure, no camel trench coat or sneakers in sight.
  
  Then she turns around, and Jack's staring open-mouthed into the somewhat grumpy face of Gwen Cooper.
  
• The one where Martha and Tosh get it on. The below is about 50% of what I've written for this. Probably end up being a fairly light, short PWP, maybe couple thousand words. Excerpt:When she strolls back down to the main part of the beach Martha's already stripped down to her bikini, lying back on her towel. Her body is the picture of relaxation; Tosh thinks she even might be asleep, though her oversized, retro sunglasses hide her eyes from view.
  
  Tosh sits on the towel next to her, resting her arms on her knees and burying her toes in the sand.
  
  "Curiosity sated?" Martha murmurs at length, though she doesn't move or lift her sunglasses up.
  
  Tosh shoots a sideways glance down at her. Martha's bikini appears to be made out of cotton rather than lycra, so her skin shimmers more than the black fabric, practically glowing with the heat it's soaking up. The valley between her breasts collects a particular glimmer, and Tosh's eyes follow the edges of the bikini's triangles around to where they don't quite effectively cover the curve of Martha's breasts against the sides of her ribcage.
  
• The AU where Ianto saves Lisa, gets her out of the Hub and runs far away. Jack tracks them down, offers them jobs. They agree. (Jack/Ianto/Lisa). No more than a quarter done at 9000 words. Sort-of stalled; I have plans for it, but other stuff has taken my attention. Excerpt:The dream slips away but not enough; she's still restrained though not as irrevocably, and she thrashes and lashes out, surging up where she couldn't in the conversion unit, using her knees and skull as weapons where her arms are still held down.
  
  Ianto swears and falls back, breaking his grip on her, and Lisa pants rapidly, staring at him with wide eyes. The darkness of the room no impairment; everything is revealed to her. Ianto's expression is pained.
  
  “What the fuck are you doing?” Lisa demands, hating the thready note of terror still in her voice, the betrayal of her dream still so immediate.
  
  “I didn't want you to hurt yourself,” Ianto says.
  
  “Fuck off! Just fuck off, all right?”
  
  He lies, still and unthreatening, on the other side of the bed. Lisa sits jerkily, draws her knees up, presses her chest against them. She can move. She can bend her body, fold it inward, protect it. Touch it, feel it, feel it being terrified, feel it breathe without assistance. She can't stop shaking.
  
  Ianto touches her hand, the same touch he'd give her when it was one of the few remaining places on her body she could feel it, maybe even return the gesture. Even when she'd scream and swear at him, or beg him to just let her go already.
  
  It can't have been easy for him, either. Stubborn bastard.
  
  “I'm sorry,” Ianto says miserably. “I didn't-- I just want to take care of you.”
  
  “I know,” she says, not sure if the eagerness of her response is due to wanting to comfort him or just shut him up.
  
• The one where Jack surprises Ianto with a tropical holiday. (Jack/Ianto, utter crack). About 600 words done, still figuring out pacing so not sure how long it could be. A few thousand, maybe. Excerpt:Ianto doesn't move the arm from his face. "Jack," he says, slightly muffled. "I appreciate the gesture of a surprise holiday, I really do." He lowers his arm to look beseechingly into Jack's eyes. Jack winces as Ianto's face is uncovered. Sunburn it is, then. "But you couldn't have given me a bit more warning? At least the opportunity to pack?"
  
  "We're on a tropical island. You won't need any clothes."
  
  Ianto doesn't appreciate Jack's very reasonable logic with the open arms Jack's hoping for, though apparently decides to accept the romantic notion behind it by only scowling a little bit. He rolls off the bed and stands, pulls his jacket off. There's a big vee of transparency where Ianto's sweating through his pale blue shirt, pointing to Ianto's arse like the word's most unsubtle treasure map.
  
  Jack perks up immediately, but Ianto only goes on to loosen his tie, not even looking at Jack again before investigating the door near the bed; Jack gets a glimpse of Ianto's mildly disgruntled and very red expression in the reflection of the bathroom mirror before Ianto closes the door behind him again.
  
  Five minutes later the shower starts up. Jack fidgets for approximately thirty seconds before trying the door handle. It's locked. Sheepishly, Jack takes the hint. After all, they're not in Cardiff any more, and Jack supposes that he could go a little further in demonstrating to Ianto just how much that's a good thing.
  

So, those are the ones I've started and think I'll be finishing. Onto the ones I've not started but want to:

• The one where Ianto inadvertently woos Jack after finding his psychic paper.
• Cyborg!Ianto.
• More in this verse.
• The one in an alternate reality where they're all born the opposite sex.

And then there's the other list of ideas that I look wistfully at but realise that they've passed their prime, now... Work faster, brane!

I like this meme. It makes me think about... stuff.