To Give And Forget: Part 2
Title: To Give and Forget - Part 2 of 15
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Rating: 15 for swearing and mentions of sex .
Summary: the return of Fogle, Stiles and seventies disco. Very silly..
Disclaimer: TW characters not mine...
Authors Notes: Betaed by the lovely
miss_zedem. The original plot beta was
damalan
In the last part; Ianto and Jack are visiting Melindawa at Torchwood HQ. He's had to meet Maldwyn again and it appears that Maldwyn and Moses are coming to Cardiff. Ianto's not happy; Jack's very loved up and also being a bit macho. Oh dear.
Fogle and Stiles are of course, a not very veiled reference to The Bullshitters, two characters played and created by Keith Allen and Peter Richardson as part of The Comic Strip series. The lyrics of "I Will Survive" are reproduced here without permission but serious respect.
A recap on Time & Punishment or A Man in A Polyester Suit, there is a recap of both under the links as well as the full fics. You will also find full character profiles for the lead players along the lines of this fic there.
Since Dr Who, part of this fic has become non-cannon. I make no apologies but it's too late to change it, so take the leap with me my friends.
Part Two
Fogle and Stiles were waiting for Jack and Ianto as they left Torchwood HQ.
“Awright Guv...Ean...yarn....” Fogle began.
“Ianto?” asked the man himself, quietly.
“Ianto, yes!” Fogle boomed. “Are you both...er, awright?”
“We're fine,” Jack said kindly, hefting a box full of papers. “I never got the chance to thank you for your help with the Ford case, you were brilliant, actually. Both of you.”
“It was a pleasure working with you both again,” said Stiles looking slightly sheepish. “Look, Fogle and I were wondering if you'd like to come to our place for dinner tonight. A way of thanking you for letting us be part of your team. I mean, it's been a real honour after....” He looked at Ianto and blushed. “It won't be anything too posh. Just a bit of vegetarian moussaka?”
Jack looked wide eyed at the two men and then at Ianto, who looked slightly concerned, then realised that Jack wasn't going to answer for him. On one hand, spending an evening with two men who'd beat him up sounded very bad. On the other hand, compared to Bevans, Fogle and Stiles seemed saner by the second.
“That would be lovely. We're only over the road at the hotel. If you let us know....” Ianto said politely, smiling gracefully.
Fogle, who had been looking at Stiles with something akin to embarrassed contempt, suddenly grinned broadly.
“Nice one. I'll pick you up in what, in an hour?” He looked at Stiles, who nodded. “Do you want a hand over the road with that box?”
Jack opened his mouth, closed his mouth, handed over the box and opened his mouth again. No sound...that'll be the problem. Closed it.
“Yeah, thanks, I mean, looking forward to seeing you, later,” he nodded at Stiles. He turned abruptly and followed Fogle, who was legging it over the road in the direction of the shopping centre and the hotel beyond.
Stiles stopped, nodded at Jack's quickly disappearing back. He looked down, then up and Ianto and suddenly embraced him warmly.
“Love you, brother,” he whispered emotionally, before wandering off looking slightly shaken by the whole experience.
Ianto, shocked but smiling, put his hands in his pockets and left Torchwood HQ.
~#~
Half an hour later and Jack was wondering which shirt one wore for an informal night out with two psychopathic ex-CID Torchwood henchmen. He was disturbed from his reverie by Ianto emerging from the steam of the bathroom, singing into a deodorant bottle wearing nothing but boxers, socks and a grin.
“At first I was afraid,
I was petrified
Felt I would never live
without you by my side...”
Jack bit his lip, wondering where in his ranking of top surreal moments Ianto singing “I Will Survive” in a broad Welsh accent would feature.
Ianto rested the back of his hand on his forehead, fluttering his eyelashes at Jack dramatically, before laying himself across his lap.
“But I spent so many nights
thinking how you did me wrong”
Ianto jumped to his feet and wagged his finger at Jack, who had completely lost it and was giggling with his whole body.
“and I grew strong
I learned how to carry on...”
Jack leapt to his feet, never one to let a classic disco moment disappear. He reached out a hand to Ianto, who shimmied out of his grasp, still wagging his finger. Jack could tell though that Ianto was beginning to crack.
“and so you're back,
From outer space
I just walked in to find you here
With that sad look upon your face”
As Ianto pouted with feeling, Jack grabbed his hand and dragged him up to stand on the bed. Ianto was barely singing through giggles now, so Jack joined in, bouncing around madly and shaking his booty like it had never been shaken before.
“I should have changed my stupid lock
I should have made you leave your key
If I had known for just one second
You'd be back to bother me...”
Ianto tried for a moment to distract Jack by rubbing his crotch into Jack's thigh. However, he hadn't counted on the awesome power of seventies disco. After a few moments of fruitless grinding, he followed Jack's lead and the two men stood face to face blasting out the rest of the song.
The Ianto and Jack remix featured yelling “I will survive” ad infinitum, or at least until the businessman next door banged on his wall, shouting 'Shut the fuck up or I'm calling reception!'. All Gaynor-ed out, they collapsed onto the now squeaking bed in a heap, giggling and panting.
“I think we might have found our song,” Ianto gasped out between giggles.
“I'm just glad you didn't change the locks at the Hub when I came back.” Jack turned, kissing him soundly. “My dramatic entrance would have been ruined!”
Ianto stroked Jack's hair and turned serious for a moment.
“What the hell do you wear for dinner with Fogle and Stiles?”
~#~
The sound of screeching tyres in the car park downstairs told Jack and Ianto that Fogle had arrived to collect them. A harrowing 20 minute car ride in Fogle’s ridiculous faux sports car ended with arrival at a small, tidy semi-detached house in a modern, tidy suburb.
Fogle ushered them in to a house of bright colour and strange furniture. Stiles was at the cooker in his pink tangas and cowboy boots.
“Hi there,” he said turning to them, flicking his tresses. “Dinner won't be long. Have a seat at the table.”
Jack and Ianto turned to look at each other for moment. Ianto adopted his very best polite, professional attitude and Jack just craned his head to have a good look at what the teeny satiny underwear was - or rather was failing - to hide.
Without asking, Fogle forced a pint of dark, foamy beer into each of their hands and grunted at the table. Ianto was impressed with the house. Though the riot of colour was giving him a headache, there were the odd touches of flair and it was tidy and surprisingly homely. Conversation was a little stilted, but Jack did most of the small talk until Stiles dished up dinner. Then, all chatter was on hold whilst they ate their meal.
Afterwards, as Fogle and Jack settled in to talk about guns, Ianto helped Stiles with the washing up. As the two men stood at the sink, it seemed as good a time as any to ask the question which he'd been dying to ask.
“Melindawa told me earlier that you and Fogle had sort of 'come out' recently,” Ianto said quietly. “Why now? I think it's good, but was there anything that made you want to do it now?”
“Well, we saw you and Jack again,” Stiles said reflectively. “And no one at your place seems to both about the fact that your both fair...que...gay. Sorry, I've spent too long on the force.” He giggled nervously which pretty much scared Ianto to his core. “And then there was that gun fight and any of us could have been hit wiv one of those electrical burny shots, right? So, well, me and Alan...I mean, Fogle, thought it would be as good a time as any really.”
“Did you just tell Ianto my name was Alan?” Fogle’s voice rang out from the back of the room. “Stiles’ name is Dick!” he shouted, pointing at his boyfriend.
“I prefer the name, Richard, actually,” Stiles said laconically. “I may have convinced him that letting people know we're together is a good idea, but first names? I give up,” he said throwing his soapy hands up in exasperation.
“Wot are you two talkin' about anyway,” Fogle asked aggressively getting to his feet.
Ianto's heart began to race. He knew from personal experience that Fogle had at best a thin veneer of calm behind which, lay a violent temper.
“I-I-I'm sorry, I just asked Mr Stiles why...”
“Mister Stiles, is it now?” Fogle mocked him walking towards Ianto. “That's a bit formal, ain't it? S'awright, Ianto I just wanted to know why fussy-bollocks.” He motioned at Stiles with his thumb. “Had gone all first namey.”
Ianto had stepped back, he was now pressed against the sink, facing Fogle. His heart was beating so hard and fast it was actually beginning to hurt. He couldn't breath and his vision was starting to blur. He heard someone call his name and someone, Stiles possibly, grabbed his arm. He pulled his arm from his grasp and muttered that he needed the bathroom. Stiles told him to go through the lounge, up the stairs and it was the first door on the landing. He staggered from the room, Fogle’s voice ringing in his ears.
“Have you given him food poisoning, you dopey twat?”
Out of the view, Ianto made it to the top of the stairs before his dizziness made him sit. He took deep breaths, his eyes closed, following advice from months ago. He didn't get panic attacks anymore. What was going on? When he opened his eyes, Jack was sat next to him on the stairs, looking at him with concern.
“OK?” Jack asked softly. “Do you want to go?”
“No,” Ianto said quickly. “What the hell was that about? I know the way Fogle is...uh. Tell me this will get better, Jack. I'm starting to feel like a right idiot panicking over stupid things.”
“What's stupid? Fogle overreacted and he did once break one of your ribs,” Jack said, stroking Ianto's knee. “But it will get better, I promise.” He kissed Ianto's forehead, stood and held out his hand to Ianto. He took it, was pulled to his feet and the two walked back to the kitchen hand in hand.
“Feelin' better?” Fogle asked loudly when he walked back in. “I told 'im to make something more traditional, like a nice curry, but he don't listen!”
Ianto smiled and looked at Stiles, who nodded at him sagely.
“I'm fine,” he said quietly. “I've not been sleeping well at the hotel. Strange bed and all that. I just have been feeling a bit dizzy but it's just tiredness.”
“D'you want me to take you back to the hotel?” Fogle asked immediately, reaching for his jacket. Ianto held out his hand, resting it on Fogle’s arm.
“I'm fine,” he said again. “And besides, a few more hours and I'll sleep like a baby tonight.” Fogle nodded at him, still looking slightly concerned. When Ianto turned back to Stiles, he was giving Ianto a questioning look.
“Come and sit down before you fall down then,” Stiles said, patting the seat next to his. “And you can tell me why you wanted to know why me and Fogle came out now.”
“Oh, is that all you wanted to know?” Fogle said loudly as Ianto sat. Jack sat the other side of Ianto, between him and Fogle. “He wouldn't put out until I agreed, that's why!”
“Sorry,” said Ianto. “It's just that there's been so much coincidence lately with people being a bit more friendly lately. Jack's all huggy, the hotel staff are being all nice and an old man in the restaurant was being all flirty and then you two. It's all just odd.”
Jack shook his head slowly. Stiles looked over at him and smiled. Fogle on the other hand was like a terrier with a rat-toy.
“Gay serum!” He said loudly. “It's back! I knew it would be back Stiles! It's nasty stuff Ianto, before the week's out there'll be pictures of you on the notice board at work, all naked and oiled except for a leather pinny and a feather duster. Do you think we ought to leave the country?”
“Gay Serum?” said Jack.
“Oiled?” asked Ianto.
“A leather pinny? That's just such a cliché, you fat bastard. Not to mention being very last season,” said Stiles.
“C'mon guys,” Jack said again. “There's no such thing as Gay Serum.”
“There is!” said Fogle loudly. “Me and Stiles have already been sacked from CID because of it. We were taken over by the overwhelming urge to wear leather and grow moustaches. It was the first time we ever had sex but that was the only good thing to come out of so much trauma. Oh Ianto,” Fogle wailed. “At one point, I started to wear loafers. Stiles here...”
“No, for the love of God, don't tell them!” Stiles howled. “Please...”
“It's important that they know the truth, Richard, my love,” Fogle said tenderly. Ianto's eyebrows were raised so high now they were in danger of disappearing into his hairline. “Stiles started...” Fogle’s voice broke. He composed himself and began again. “Stiles started to-to wear...bright colours!”
Stiles left the room, his head in his hands. Fogle sat looking at his hands, taking deep breaths for several long moments. Jack blinked as if the very action would explain why colour was so awful. Ianto managed to pull himself together first.
“Thank you for telling me,” he said sincerely, putting a hand over Fogle’s. “Should I go comfort Stiles?”
Fogle looked up, his eyes rimmed with redness.
“Let me, Ianto. Just...watch out for the Serum, OK?”
~#~
Part Three
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Rating: 15 for swearing and mentions of sex .
Summary: the return of Fogle, Stiles and seventies disco. Very silly..
Disclaimer: TW characters not mine...
Authors Notes: Betaed by the lovely
miss_zedem. The original plot beta was
damalan
In the last part; Ianto and Jack are visiting Melindawa at Torchwood HQ. He's had to meet Maldwyn again and it appears that Maldwyn and Moses are coming to Cardiff. Ianto's not happy; Jack's very loved up and also being a bit macho. Oh dear.
Fogle and Stiles are of course, a not very veiled reference to The Bullshitters, two characters played and created by Keith Allen and Peter Richardson as part of The Comic Strip series. The lyrics of "I Will Survive" are reproduced here without permission but serious respect.
A recap on Time & Punishment or A Man in A Polyester Suit, there is a recap of both under the links as well as the full fics. You will also find full character profiles for the lead players along the lines of this fic there.
Since Dr Who, part of this fic has become non-cannon. I make no apologies but it's too late to change it, so take the leap with me my friends.
Part Two
Fogle and Stiles were waiting for Jack and Ianto as they left Torchwood HQ.
“Awright Guv...Ean...yarn....” Fogle began.
“Ianto?” asked the man himself, quietly.
“Ianto, yes!” Fogle boomed. “Are you both...er, awright?”
“We're fine,” Jack said kindly, hefting a box full of papers. “I never got the chance to thank you for your help with the Ford case, you were brilliant, actually. Both of you.”
“It was a pleasure working with you both again,” said Stiles looking slightly sheepish. “Look, Fogle and I were wondering if you'd like to come to our place for dinner tonight. A way of thanking you for letting us be part of your team. I mean, it's been a real honour after....” He looked at Ianto and blushed. “It won't be anything too posh. Just a bit of vegetarian moussaka?”
Jack looked wide eyed at the two men and then at Ianto, who looked slightly concerned, then realised that Jack wasn't going to answer for him. On one hand, spending an evening with two men who'd beat him up sounded very bad. On the other hand, compared to Bevans, Fogle and Stiles seemed saner by the second.
“That would be lovely. We're only over the road at the hotel. If you let us know....” Ianto said politely, smiling gracefully.
Fogle, who had been looking at Stiles with something akin to embarrassed contempt, suddenly grinned broadly.
“Nice one. I'll pick you up in what, in an hour?” He looked at Stiles, who nodded. “Do you want a hand over the road with that box?”
Jack opened his mouth, closed his mouth, handed over the box and opened his mouth again. No sound...that'll be the problem. Closed it.
“Yeah, thanks, I mean, looking forward to seeing you, later,” he nodded at Stiles. He turned abruptly and followed Fogle, who was legging it over the road in the direction of the shopping centre and the hotel beyond.
Stiles stopped, nodded at Jack's quickly disappearing back. He looked down, then up and Ianto and suddenly embraced him warmly.
“Love you, brother,” he whispered emotionally, before wandering off looking slightly shaken by the whole experience.
Ianto, shocked but smiling, put his hands in his pockets and left Torchwood HQ.
~#~
Half an hour later and Jack was wondering which shirt one wore for an informal night out with two psychopathic ex-CID Torchwood henchmen. He was disturbed from his reverie by Ianto emerging from the steam of the bathroom, singing into a deodorant bottle wearing nothing but boxers, socks and a grin.
“At first I was afraid,
I was petrified
Felt I would never live
without you by my side...”
Jack bit his lip, wondering where in his ranking of top surreal moments Ianto singing “I Will Survive” in a broad Welsh accent would feature.
Ianto rested the back of his hand on his forehead, fluttering his eyelashes at Jack dramatically, before laying himself across his lap.
“But I spent so many nights
thinking how you did me wrong”
Ianto jumped to his feet and wagged his finger at Jack, who had completely lost it and was giggling with his whole body.
“and I grew strong
I learned how to carry on...”
Jack leapt to his feet, never one to let a classic disco moment disappear. He reached out a hand to Ianto, who shimmied out of his grasp, still wagging his finger. Jack could tell though that Ianto was beginning to crack.
“and so you're back,
From outer space
I just walked in to find you here
With that sad look upon your face”
As Ianto pouted with feeling, Jack grabbed his hand and dragged him up to stand on the bed. Ianto was barely singing through giggles now, so Jack joined in, bouncing around madly and shaking his booty like it had never been shaken before.
“I should have changed my stupid lock
I should have made you leave your key
If I had known for just one second
You'd be back to bother me...”
Ianto tried for a moment to distract Jack by rubbing his crotch into Jack's thigh. However, he hadn't counted on the awesome power of seventies disco. After a few moments of fruitless grinding, he followed Jack's lead and the two men stood face to face blasting out the rest of the song.
The Ianto and Jack remix featured yelling “I will survive” ad infinitum, or at least until the businessman next door banged on his wall, shouting 'Shut the fuck up or I'm calling reception!'. All Gaynor-ed out, they collapsed onto the now squeaking bed in a heap, giggling and panting.
“I think we might have found our song,” Ianto gasped out between giggles.
“I'm just glad you didn't change the locks at the Hub when I came back.” Jack turned, kissing him soundly. “My dramatic entrance would have been ruined!”
Ianto stroked Jack's hair and turned serious for a moment.
“What the hell do you wear for dinner with Fogle and Stiles?”
~#~
The sound of screeching tyres in the car park downstairs told Jack and Ianto that Fogle had arrived to collect them. A harrowing 20 minute car ride in Fogle’s ridiculous faux sports car ended with arrival at a small, tidy semi-detached house in a modern, tidy suburb.
Fogle ushered them in to a house of bright colour and strange furniture. Stiles was at the cooker in his pink tangas and cowboy boots.
“Hi there,” he said turning to them, flicking his tresses. “Dinner won't be long. Have a seat at the table.”
Jack and Ianto turned to look at each other for moment. Ianto adopted his very best polite, professional attitude and Jack just craned his head to have a good look at what the teeny satiny underwear was - or rather was failing - to hide.
Without asking, Fogle forced a pint of dark, foamy beer into each of their hands and grunted at the table. Ianto was impressed with the house. Though the riot of colour was giving him a headache, there were the odd touches of flair and it was tidy and surprisingly homely. Conversation was a little stilted, but Jack did most of the small talk until Stiles dished up dinner. Then, all chatter was on hold whilst they ate their meal.
Afterwards, as Fogle and Jack settled in to talk about guns, Ianto helped Stiles with the washing up. As the two men stood at the sink, it seemed as good a time as any to ask the question which he'd been dying to ask.
“Melindawa told me earlier that you and Fogle had sort of 'come out' recently,” Ianto said quietly. “Why now? I think it's good, but was there anything that made you want to do it now?”
“Well, we saw you and Jack again,” Stiles said reflectively. “And no one at your place seems to both about the fact that your both fair...que...gay. Sorry, I've spent too long on the force.” He giggled nervously which pretty much scared Ianto to his core. “And then there was that gun fight and any of us could have been hit wiv one of those electrical burny shots, right? So, well, me and Alan...I mean, Fogle, thought it would be as good a time as any really.”
“Did you just tell Ianto my name was Alan?” Fogle’s voice rang out from the back of the room. “Stiles’ name is Dick!” he shouted, pointing at his boyfriend.
“I prefer the name, Richard, actually,” Stiles said laconically. “I may have convinced him that letting people know we're together is a good idea, but first names? I give up,” he said throwing his soapy hands up in exasperation.
“Wot are you two talkin' about anyway,” Fogle asked aggressively getting to his feet.
Ianto's heart began to race. He knew from personal experience that Fogle had at best a thin veneer of calm behind which, lay a violent temper.
“I-I-I'm sorry, I just asked Mr Stiles why...”
“Mister Stiles, is it now?” Fogle mocked him walking towards Ianto. “That's a bit formal, ain't it? S'awright, Ianto I just wanted to know why fussy-bollocks.” He motioned at Stiles with his thumb. “Had gone all first namey.”
Ianto had stepped back, he was now pressed against the sink, facing Fogle. His heart was beating so hard and fast it was actually beginning to hurt. He couldn't breath and his vision was starting to blur. He heard someone call his name and someone, Stiles possibly, grabbed his arm. He pulled his arm from his grasp and muttered that he needed the bathroom. Stiles told him to go through the lounge, up the stairs and it was the first door on the landing. He staggered from the room, Fogle’s voice ringing in his ears.
“Have you given him food poisoning, you dopey twat?”
Out of the view, Ianto made it to the top of the stairs before his dizziness made him sit. He took deep breaths, his eyes closed, following advice from months ago. He didn't get panic attacks anymore. What was going on? When he opened his eyes, Jack was sat next to him on the stairs, looking at him with concern.
“OK?” Jack asked softly. “Do you want to go?”
“No,” Ianto said quickly. “What the hell was that about? I know the way Fogle is...uh. Tell me this will get better, Jack. I'm starting to feel like a right idiot panicking over stupid things.”
“What's stupid? Fogle overreacted and he did once break one of your ribs,” Jack said, stroking Ianto's knee. “But it will get better, I promise.” He kissed Ianto's forehead, stood and held out his hand to Ianto. He took it, was pulled to his feet and the two walked back to the kitchen hand in hand.
“Feelin' better?” Fogle asked loudly when he walked back in. “I told 'im to make something more traditional, like a nice curry, but he don't listen!”
Ianto smiled and looked at Stiles, who nodded at him sagely.
“I'm fine,” he said quietly. “I've not been sleeping well at the hotel. Strange bed and all that. I just have been feeling a bit dizzy but it's just tiredness.”
“D'you want me to take you back to the hotel?” Fogle asked immediately, reaching for his jacket. Ianto held out his hand, resting it on Fogle’s arm.
“I'm fine,” he said again. “And besides, a few more hours and I'll sleep like a baby tonight.” Fogle nodded at him, still looking slightly concerned. When Ianto turned back to Stiles, he was giving Ianto a questioning look.
“Come and sit down before you fall down then,” Stiles said, patting the seat next to his. “And you can tell me why you wanted to know why me and Fogle came out now.”
“Oh, is that all you wanted to know?” Fogle said loudly as Ianto sat. Jack sat the other side of Ianto, between him and Fogle. “He wouldn't put out until I agreed, that's why!”
“Sorry,” said Ianto. “It's just that there's been so much coincidence lately with people being a bit more friendly lately. Jack's all huggy, the hotel staff are being all nice and an old man in the restaurant was being all flirty and then you two. It's all just odd.”
Jack shook his head slowly. Stiles looked over at him and smiled. Fogle on the other hand was like a terrier with a rat-toy.
“Gay serum!” He said loudly. “It's back! I knew it would be back Stiles! It's nasty stuff Ianto, before the week's out there'll be pictures of you on the notice board at work, all naked and oiled except for a leather pinny and a feather duster. Do you think we ought to leave the country?”
“Gay Serum?” said Jack.
“Oiled?” asked Ianto.
“A leather pinny? That's just such a cliché, you fat bastard. Not to mention being very last season,” said Stiles.
“C'mon guys,” Jack said again. “There's no such thing as Gay Serum.”
“There is!” said Fogle loudly. “Me and Stiles have already been sacked from CID because of it. We were taken over by the overwhelming urge to wear leather and grow moustaches. It was the first time we ever had sex but that was the only good thing to come out of so much trauma. Oh Ianto,” Fogle wailed. “At one point, I started to wear loafers. Stiles here...”
“No, for the love of God, don't tell them!” Stiles howled. “Please...”
“It's important that they know the truth, Richard, my love,” Fogle said tenderly. Ianto's eyebrows were raised so high now they were in danger of disappearing into his hairline. “Stiles started...” Fogle’s voice broke. He composed himself and began again. “Stiles started to-to wear...bright colours!”
Stiles left the room, his head in his hands. Fogle sat looking at his hands, taking deep breaths for several long moments. Jack blinked as if the very action would explain why colour was so awful. Ianto managed to pull himself together first.
“Thank you for telling me,” he said sincerely, putting a hand over Fogle’s. “Should I go comfort Stiles?”
Fogle looked up, his eyes rimmed with redness.
“Let me, Ianto. Just...watch out for the Serum, OK?”
~#~
Part Three