evening of 4/24
There's a silence in the car that's not entirely comfortable, but not strictly uncomfortable, either. Ianto thinks the discomfort has more to do with the absence of noise than the presence of silence, but he doesn't say that. The presence of noise would be more awkward than its absence. Besides, if nothing else, he's gotten used to uncomfortable silences in the past few months.
There's a pleasant background hum of fingers clicking over the tiny keys of mobile phone keypads. Ianto's getting status updates from Jack, mixed in with a generous helping of innuendo, the kind Jack can't help when they've gone this long without spending time together. Ianto doesn't much mind it--if anything, it's easier for him to be honest about how much he misses Jack if he can sandwich it between subtly lewd comments.
He assumes that Gwen's texting is directed at Rhys. He could ask, but again, it's better to be quiet.
Gwen's phone buzzes, and after a few moments, she laughs. Not a giggle or a chuckle, but an out and out laugh that has her squeezing her eyes shut in mirth and doubling over.
"Oh, Ianto!" she says, still laughing, "Rhys and Banana just..."
The laughter dies, as does her brilliant grin, as she turns to Ianto and sees his pinched look. Ianto can tell the moment she remembers that things aren't the same as they were six months ago.
Now the silence really is uncomfortable.
Ianto stares out the driver side window of the SUV. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Gwen turning to stare out the passenger side. He's trying very hard not to think of a time when he and Gwen would spend an entire boring assignment like this doing nothing but laughing. When he would ask after Rhys and wedding plans and she would encourage him to open up about Jack and share some stories of his own. There was a time when it was Gwen's doorstep he would have ended up on after having an epic row with Jack, after accidentally telling him he loved him, instead of seeking solace in a bottle on his own.
Things changed when Owen got sick. Now all he has of Gwen is this awkward silence.
Gwen pulls out a bridal magazine. Ianto taps his fingers against the door and wills his mobile to ring with instructions other than, "let us know if the readings change."
The hell of it is, he's honestly curious and concerned and interested in Gwen's wedding plans. The wedding's not too far off now--pushed back at first due to concern that they all might develop Owen's illness, and then due to Rhys' mother needing emergency surgery--and Ianto misses hearing about it. He wants to know what bridesmaid dresses she ended up picking and which of the two venue's she's decided on. He wants to know if Gwen went with his preferred dress or the one her two bridesmaids had liked. He wants to know if Rhys' mum is still being a stick in the mud about the flowers or if they settled on the bouquets that she and Rhys wanted.
It's not that he cares about the wedding; he cares about Gwen and he can't fucking stop.
He closes his eyes as his head rests against the window and fingers the mobile phone resting on his knee. He feels deeply lonely, suddenly. He opens his eyes and thinks of texting Jack, but he doesn't know what he'd say.
It doesn't really matter what he says. He just wants to feel a connection to someone, anyone. He's been working most of this case with Gwen, and when he hasn't been with Gwen, he's been with Martha. Martha's been doing her best to chat him up and seem friendly, but it's a friendship he's still resisting, three weeks later. Gwen is oddly quiet when they're together, tempering her usual bubbly personality. She hasn't been rude or evasive, just... quiet. Withdrawn. He misses the way she used to get in his personal space, pat him on the shoulder or hug him from behind, take his hand and drag him places, play with his hair. He had just been getting used to it--he'd stopped tensing when she touched him, begun to lean into her when they sat next to each other on the couch. He remembered the way her eyes would light up when he initiated contact, like she was joyful and victorious in her efforts to break through his personal barriers.
All he needs to do is speak up, but he doesn't think he can anymore. He doesn't know that things can go back to the way they were. Not after she turned her back on Owen. Not after he caught her whispering quietly with Tosh about getting Owen put away. Not after she demanded that Jack do something about him before Owen got someone hurt. Not after watching her go out of her way to ignore him or overpower him with false cheer, like everything was okay, like he wasn't fucking trapped in his own mind.
But, fuck, he misses her.
He turns to her, mouth open, but he doesn't know what to say. How's the wedding coming along? sounds flimsy, even in his head. Anything else would be a longer conversation than he's prepared to deal with in an enclosed space, with no means of escape.
Instead he closes his mouth and turns to look at his phone. No new messages, not that one would have been able to come without his mobile buzzing loud enough to be heard, even if he managed to ignore the vibration.
He sighs and types out, quickly, How's it going?
He knows Jack would have messaged him if anything came up, but he needs to say something and he's not yet prepared to say the sort of things he's feeling, especially not over text message.
The response is almost immediate. boring. u ok?
Ianto glances again at Gwen and catches her turning her gaze back to her magazine quickly, as if she's been caught staring.
Yes, he types. We're fine. Bored as well.
Assuring someone he was fine has ever been anything other than a lie.
He debates putting on the radio, settling it on a station that Gwen likes. He can live with crappy pop music if it means having something to concentrate on other than the tension in the car and the rustling of Gwen's magazine.
His phone buzzes again.
stay @ the hub 2nite? miss u. all these restraints r giving me ideas ;)
Ianto rolls his eyes at both Jack's use of teenaged chatspeak and suggestive comment. It doesn't alleviate the ache in his chest, though, and he replies, Yes. I miss you, too, before he can talk himself out of it.
He does miss Jack--misses quiet moments with Jack, at least, moments when Jack's not the Captain, swishing around and snapping out commands. But Jack's not going to do much for the pain he feels when he looks at Gwen. It may soothe him temporarily, but he's going to continue to have to look at Gwen every day and wonder when she became so crucial to his existence.
His phone rumbles again.
u sure ur ok?
Fine, he types back, the familiar lie appearing before he's even thought about it. I'm just fine.
There's a pleasant background hum of fingers clicking over the tiny keys of mobile phone keypads. Ianto's getting status updates from Jack, mixed in with a generous helping of innuendo, the kind Jack can't help when they've gone this long without spending time together. Ianto doesn't much mind it--if anything, it's easier for him to be honest about how much he misses Jack if he can sandwich it between subtly lewd comments.
He assumes that Gwen's texting is directed at Rhys. He could ask, but again, it's better to be quiet.
Gwen's phone buzzes, and after a few moments, she laughs. Not a giggle or a chuckle, but an out and out laugh that has her squeezing her eyes shut in mirth and doubling over.
"Oh, Ianto!" she says, still laughing, "Rhys and Banana just..."
The laughter dies, as does her brilliant grin, as she turns to Ianto and sees his pinched look. Ianto can tell the moment she remembers that things aren't the same as they were six months ago.
Now the silence really is uncomfortable.
Ianto stares out the driver side window of the SUV. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Gwen turning to stare out the passenger side. He's trying very hard not to think of a time when he and Gwen would spend an entire boring assignment like this doing nothing but laughing. When he would ask after Rhys and wedding plans and she would encourage him to open up about Jack and share some stories of his own. There was a time when it was Gwen's doorstep he would have ended up on after having an epic row with Jack, after accidentally telling him he loved him, instead of seeking solace in a bottle on his own.
Things changed when Owen got sick. Now all he has of Gwen is this awkward silence.
Gwen pulls out a bridal magazine. Ianto taps his fingers against the door and wills his mobile to ring with instructions other than, "let us know if the readings change."
The hell of it is, he's honestly curious and concerned and interested in Gwen's wedding plans. The wedding's not too far off now--pushed back at first due to concern that they all might develop Owen's illness, and then due to Rhys' mother needing emergency surgery--and Ianto misses hearing about it. He wants to know what bridesmaid dresses she ended up picking and which of the two venue's she's decided on. He wants to know if Gwen went with his preferred dress or the one her two bridesmaids had liked. He wants to know if Rhys' mum is still being a stick in the mud about the flowers or if they settled on the bouquets that she and Rhys wanted.
It's not that he cares about the wedding; he cares about Gwen and he can't fucking stop.
He closes his eyes as his head rests against the window and fingers the mobile phone resting on his knee. He feels deeply lonely, suddenly. He opens his eyes and thinks of texting Jack, but he doesn't know what he'd say.
It doesn't really matter what he says. He just wants to feel a connection to someone, anyone. He's been working most of this case with Gwen, and when he hasn't been with Gwen, he's been with Martha. Martha's been doing her best to chat him up and seem friendly, but it's a friendship he's still resisting, three weeks later. Gwen is oddly quiet when they're together, tempering her usual bubbly personality. She hasn't been rude or evasive, just... quiet. Withdrawn. He misses the way she used to get in his personal space, pat him on the shoulder or hug him from behind, take his hand and drag him places, play with his hair. He had just been getting used to it--he'd stopped tensing when she touched him, begun to lean into her when they sat next to each other on the couch. He remembered the way her eyes would light up when he initiated contact, like she was joyful and victorious in her efforts to break through his personal barriers.
All he needs to do is speak up, but he doesn't think he can anymore. He doesn't know that things can go back to the way they were. Not after she turned her back on Owen. Not after he caught her whispering quietly with Tosh about getting Owen put away. Not after she demanded that Jack do something about him before Owen got someone hurt. Not after watching her go out of her way to ignore him or overpower him with false cheer, like everything was okay, like he wasn't fucking trapped in his own mind.
But, fuck, he misses her.
He turns to her, mouth open, but he doesn't know what to say. How's the wedding coming along? sounds flimsy, even in his head. Anything else would be a longer conversation than he's prepared to deal with in an enclosed space, with no means of escape.
Instead he closes his mouth and turns to look at his phone. No new messages, not that one would have been able to come without his mobile buzzing loud enough to be heard, even if he managed to ignore the vibration.
He sighs and types out, quickly, How's it going?
He knows Jack would have messaged him if anything came up, but he needs to say something and he's not yet prepared to say the sort of things he's feeling, especially not over text message.
The response is almost immediate. boring. u ok?
Ianto glances again at Gwen and catches her turning her gaze back to her magazine quickly, as if she's been caught staring.
Yes, he types. We're fine. Bored as well.
Assuring someone he was fine has ever been anything other than a lie.
He debates putting on the radio, settling it on a station that Gwen likes. He can live with crappy pop music if it means having something to concentrate on other than the tension in the car and the rustling of Gwen's magazine.
His phone buzzes again.
stay @ the hub 2nite? miss u. all these restraints r giving me ideas ;)
Ianto rolls his eyes at both Jack's use of teenaged chatspeak and suggestive comment. It doesn't alleviate the ache in his chest, though, and he replies, Yes. I miss you, too, before he can talk himself out of it.
He does miss Jack--misses quiet moments with Jack, at least, moments when Jack's not the Captain, swishing around and snapping out commands. But Jack's not going to do much for the pain he feels when he looks at Gwen. It may soothe him temporarily, but he's going to continue to have to look at Gwen every day and wonder when she became so crucial to his existence.
His phone rumbles again.
u sure ur ok?
Fine, he types back, the familiar lie appearing before he's even thought about it. I'm just fine.