Dedicated to the Most Awesome Person I Know
This helped (I like to think it did, anyway) A Friend who was suffering general angst and depression over the way one of her most favourite shows ended (and frankly I've been so completely dragged into this obssession of hers I'm beginning to empathize). A virgin foray into Torchwood.
“What, exactly,” said Jack, sauntering up behind Ianto, “happened to that stopwatch?”
“Oh, sorry,” he added, sounding completely unapologetic, as Ianto's surprised start swept about fifteen (previously neatly ordered) files to the ground.
Only a slight movement at the corner of his mouth would've belied Ianto's stoicism. “I believe we broke it. And by we, of course, I mean you. You owe me a new stopwatch.”
Jack cocked an eyebrow, un-cocked it, and replaced it with a saurian smile. “Yeah, I think we may have gone past the stopwatch stage. A wall clock should be fine for next time.”
“What, exactly,” said Jack, sauntering up behind Ianto, “happened to that stopwatch?”
“Oh, sorry,” he added, sounding completely unapologetic, as Ianto's surprised start swept about fifteen (previously neatly ordered) files to the ground.
Only a slight movement at the corner of his mouth would've belied Ianto's stoicism. “I believe we broke it. And by we, of course, I mean you. You owe me a new stopwatch.”
Jack cocked an eyebrow, un-cocked it, and replaced it with a saurian smile. “Yeah, I think we may have gone past the stopwatch stage. A wall clock should be fine for next time.”