Fic: Coffee Can’t Cure Everything
Title: Coffee Can’t Cure Everything
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Jack.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 856
Summary: With Owen and Tosh gone, Jack is trying to do most of the work himself, but even immortal captains can only do so much.
Spoilers: Set after Exit Wounds.
Written For: cozy_coffee’s prompt ‘Any, any, coffee,’ at comment_fic.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood or any of the characters.
Captain Jack Harkness is immortal, but not, despite all appearances to the contrary, indefatigable. He can go without sleep, or even rest, for much longer than a regular human, but even the valiant Captain is bound to run out of steam eventually.
That’s especially true now that the team is down to a mere three people, Jack included, because Torchwood Three’s leader is reluctant to hire anyone to replace their lost friends, but equally reluctant to let the two who remain put themselves in unnecessary danger. Therefore, Jack is trying to carry most of the workload on his own shoulders, handling all the nighttime Rift alerts and Weevil issues by himself so that Ianto and Gwen can get enough sleep. In spite of his fast healing, the lack of rest is starting to show.
Ianto arrives bright and early, as he always does, to find Jack slumped across his desk, sleeping, and drooling slightly on his paperwork. From the looks of him, he’s had a rough night, but although he’s dishevelled Ianto can’t see any bloodstains, so that’s something. Chances are Jack didn’t get himself killed, but the Rift has been overactive the past couple of weeks, the Weevils have been unsettled, and Ianto can’t help but wonder when Jack last slept for more than five minutes. It makes him feel guilty for going home to his comfortable bed at the end of each workday, leaving Jack to deal with everything by himself from eleven at night until six-thirty the following morning.
Deciding to let his lover rest while he can, Ianto turns away, intending to feed the inmates and carry out a few other routine tasks before doing anything about breakfast. With any luck, it will allow Jack another hour or so of sleep, but at that moment, Jack jolts awake, sitting up and blinking owlishly in the dim light.
“Ianto. What’re you doing here? Is it morning already?”
“More or less. Why don’t you go down to your bunker, see if you can sleep for a while longer?”
“No, I’m awake now, I’m fine; I’ve had…” Jack checks his watch. “Nearly two hours’ sleep.”
“Spread out over how many nights?” Ianto raises an eyebrow.
Jack just looks at him. “I don’t need as much sleep as you do; two hours is plenty.” What he doesn’t say is that it’s the first sleep he’s had in almost a week; he’d rather Ianto didn’t know that. Besides, the Rift and the Weevils are bound to settle down soon; he can catch up on sleep then.
Ianto studies him critically. “You look exhausted.”
“I just need a shower and a change of clothes. I was playing tag with a pair of Weevils half the night.”
“You should’ve called me, or Gwen.”
“Why would I do that? It wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle.”
Trying to argue with Jack is useless; he’s always been stubborn, but now he’d give the most obstinate mule in existence a run for its money. Not wanting Jack to expend more energy defending his choices than he already has, Ianto wisely gives in.
“If you say so. Coffee?”
“What kind of question is that?” Jack huffs.
Ianto almost smiles: Jack never turns down a cup of coffee. “An unnecessary one, apparently. Coffee it is then. Any preferences for breakfast?”
Jack shakes his head. “You know me; I’ll eat anything. Within reason,” he adds hurriedly, because the last time Owen said something like that, Ianto served him Weevil chow with a squirt of Myfanwy’s barbecue sauce. It was probably revenge for something Owen had done, and Jack had no doubt that Torchwood’s medic had deserved it at the time, but why take chances?
“Right, I think there’s some bacon left, so how about bacon butties?”
“Sounds great.”
“You go take a shower and I’ll bring you your coffee as soon as it’s ready. I just have a few things I want to get done first.”
As Ianto leaves the office, Jack slumps across his desk again, wondering if even a mug of Ianto’s industrial strength brew and a bacon butty will be enough to get him in gear. He feels almost as drained as he did after Abaddon.
When Ianto returns half an hour later with the promised coffee, Jack is once again fast asleep with his head on his blotter. Ianto looks at the weary captain, then at the mug of coffee in his hand, then back at Jack again and shrugging, quietly tiptoes out, glad that he only made the one mug. He can make more when Jack wakes up; in the meantime, he might as well drink this one himself. There’s no sense letting it go to waste.
Fixing himself a bowl of cereal and couple of slices of toast, saving the bacon so Jack can have it later, Ianto settles on the sofa for a solitary breakfast. Jack may thrive on Ianto’s coffee, but right now he needs sleep more than he needs a caffeine boost. Perhaps in future Torchwood’s leader might be more willing to share the workload with what remains of his team, but Ianto wouldn’t bet on it.
The End
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Jack.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 856
Summary: With Owen and Tosh gone, Jack is trying to do most of the work himself, but even immortal captains can only do so much.
Spoilers: Set after Exit Wounds.
Written For: cozy_coffee’s prompt ‘Any, any, coffee,’ at comment_fic.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood or any of the characters.
Captain Jack Harkness is immortal, but not, despite all appearances to the contrary, indefatigable. He can go without sleep, or even rest, for much longer than a regular human, but even the valiant Captain is bound to run out of steam eventually.
That’s especially true now that the team is down to a mere three people, Jack included, because Torchwood Three’s leader is reluctant to hire anyone to replace their lost friends, but equally reluctant to let the two who remain put themselves in unnecessary danger. Therefore, Jack is trying to carry most of the workload on his own shoulders, handling all the nighttime Rift alerts and Weevil issues by himself so that Ianto and Gwen can get enough sleep. In spite of his fast healing, the lack of rest is starting to show.
Ianto arrives bright and early, as he always does, to find Jack slumped across his desk, sleeping, and drooling slightly on his paperwork. From the looks of him, he’s had a rough night, but although he’s dishevelled Ianto can’t see any bloodstains, so that’s something. Chances are Jack didn’t get himself killed, but the Rift has been overactive the past couple of weeks, the Weevils have been unsettled, and Ianto can’t help but wonder when Jack last slept for more than five minutes. It makes him feel guilty for going home to his comfortable bed at the end of each workday, leaving Jack to deal with everything by himself from eleven at night until six-thirty the following morning.
Deciding to let his lover rest while he can, Ianto turns away, intending to feed the inmates and carry out a few other routine tasks before doing anything about breakfast. With any luck, it will allow Jack another hour or so of sleep, but at that moment, Jack jolts awake, sitting up and blinking owlishly in the dim light.
“Ianto. What’re you doing here? Is it morning already?”
“More or less. Why don’t you go down to your bunker, see if you can sleep for a while longer?”
“No, I’m awake now, I’m fine; I’ve had…” Jack checks his watch. “Nearly two hours’ sleep.”
“Spread out over how many nights?” Ianto raises an eyebrow.
Jack just looks at him. “I don’t need as much sleep as you do; two hours is plenty.” What he doesn’t say is that it’s the first sleep he’s had in almost a week; he’d rather Ianto didn’t know that. Besides, the Rift and the Weevils are bound to settle down soon; he can catch up on sleep then.
Ianto studies him critically. “You look exhausted.”
“I just need a shower and a change of clothes. I was playing tag with a pair of Weevils half the night.”
“You should’ve called me, or Gwen.”
“Why would I do that? It wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle.”
Trying to argue with Jack is useless; he’s always been stubborn, but now he’d give the most obstinate mule in existence a run for its money. Not wanting Jack to expend more energy defending his choices than he already has, Ianto wisely gives in.
“If you say so. Coffee?”
“What kind of question is that?” Jack huffs.
Ianto almost smiles: Jack never turns down a cup of coffee. “An unnecessary one, apparently. Coffee it is then. Any preferences for breakfast?”
Jack shakes his head. “You know me; I’ll eat anything. Within reason,” he adds hurriedly, because the last time Owen said something like that, Ianto served him Weevil chow with a squirt of Myfanwy’s barbecue sauce. It was probably revenge for something Owen had done, and Jack had no doubt that Torchwood’s medic had deserved it at the time, but why take chances?
“Right, I think there’s some bacon left, so how about bacon butties?”
“Sounds great.”
“You go take a shower and I’ll bring you your coffee as soon as it’s ready. I just have a few things I want to get done first.”
As Ianto leaves the office, Jack slumps across his desk again, wondering if even a mug of Ianto’s industrial strength brew and a bacon butty will be enough to get him in gear. He feels almost as drained as he did after Abaddon.
When Ianto returns half an hour later with the promised coffee, Jack is once again fast asleep with his head on his blotter. Ianto looks at the weary captain, then at the mug of coffee in his hand, then back at Jack again and shrugging, quietly tiptoes out, glad that he only made the one mug. He can make more when Jack wakes up; in the meantime, he might as well drink this one himself. There’s no sense letting it go to waste.
Fixing himself a bowl of cereal and couple of slices of toast, saving the bacon so Jack can have it later, Ianto settles on the sofa for a solitary breakfast. Jack may thrive on Ianto’s coffee, but right now he needs sleep more than he needs a caffeine boost. Perhaps in future Torchwood’s leader might be more willing to share the workload with what remains of his team, but Ianto wouldn’t bet on it.
The End