FIC: A million lies (Jack/Ianto, Gwen, PG-13)
Happy birthday, fiyre!
TITLE: A million lies
AUTHOR: Demon Faith
FANDOM: Torchwood
PAIRINGS: Jack/Ianto (hints of Jack/Gwen *spits*, Jack/Doctor)
SPOILERS: To the end of Season Two
CONTINUITY: In my happy post-S2 AU where everyone is alive
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: Jack has some advice for Gwen
DISCLAIMER: If I owned them, the Season 2 finale would be a bad dream and nothing more.
NOTES: Uh…I'm sure this started out as crack fic. Based on 'I've Never Been To Me' by Charlene - here.
For fiyre, on the occasion of her birthday.
The door to the Hub ground open and Gwen looked up from her desk.
"Ianto? Is that you?"
"He's 'way"
With a clatter, Jack's pistol spun across the floor and the bundle of coat beside it quivered slightly. Gwen was out of her seat and across the room in an instant, kneeling down beside Jack.
He looked up at her with two black eyes, smiling despite his split lip and bruised cheek. "Gw'n?"
"Jack, what happened?" she said, trying to sit him up as he winced and spat blood over her new jeans.
"Fight. Whisk'y." He paused. "Maybe…not…that ord'r."
"You're drunk," she said, flatly, wondering what she'd done to deserve this. Where was Ianto when you needed him?
"'S better thanna slap intha face." Jack spat again. "I got b'th."
"I'll ring Owen," she said, not wanting to suffer through an inebriated Jack alone, and hauled him to his feet. He stayed vaguely upright, but his shuffle-stagger to the infirmary took ten arduous minutes. Gwen really hoped the video blackmail would be worth it.
Perched on the infirmary bed, with an ice pack held to his swelling cheek, he began to look a little sheepish. Gwen forced half a pint of water down him and tried Owen's flat.
"Yeah, what?"
"Owen, it's Gwen. Jack's been hurt. Can you get down here?"
"Hurt? How badly? Was it a Weevil?"
"Jack Daniel's."
A chuckle then, and another voice in the background, murmuring. "I'll be right there. Hold the fort."
The line clicked off and Gwen shook her head, turning back to her charge with a quelling look. "So, do want to talk about it?"
Jack regarded her solemnly and held his ribs awkwardly. "Sorry."
"Where's Ianto?"
The expression on his face changed, and he looked away. "Visiting his sister."
"Is that…why?"
He wouldn't look at her. "Not really."
After a long moment of silence, he looked at her again and then shook his head. "Advice, Gwen? Hold on to Rhys."
She frowned. "I don't follow."
"I was stupid," he said, running bloodied fingers through his hair. "When I was young. Younger. You think Rhys means the end of something, something good. You…don't know."
Gwen sighed. "Jack, you're not making any sense."
"I know," he said, ruefully. "But listen anyway. Don't leave him. Don't ever leave him."
"I'm not going to leave him, Jack." She felt herself blushing. "Look, if this is about-"
"It's not."
Another moment of silence passed before Gwen cleared her throat. "So what is it then?"
"I'm full of stories. Stories of love affairs, wild nights, exotic aliens. Those things…they didn't make me happy, Gwen."
She sat down beside him and touched his arm. "There, now, that's the JD talking. In the morning-"
"I bedded Edward the Eighth."
"You…what?"
"Edward. The one who left, y'know? For the American. Wallis was just the story."
Gwen shook her head to clear it. "Jack, I-"
"And Grace Kelly. Frank Sinatra. All four Beatles - John Lennon twice. Bob Dylan - well, almost. That's a…" He trailed off and bowed his head. "Great story."
She put an arm around his shoulders. "Jack, why are you telling me this?"
He looked at her with unfocussed eyes. "I travelled the universe…whoring myself out, for fun, for fame, for…a story. And then I met…him, but I was stuck here for a hundred years. And it was too easy just to…become that man again, to see if it would work better on just one planet." He smiled. "It didn't."
Gwen didn't know what to say. Jack shrugged her off, clutching his side again.
"And so I do this. I do this because…I can't settle. Not for…Ianto, not for you…"
"Jack, don't," she said, trying to shut out thoughts of her and Jack. She had Rhys. Loving, dependable Rhys.
Suddenly, he grabbed her shirt and pulled her closer. His breath smelled sweet and, for a moment, she thought he might kiss her. But he looked away, his hands shaking.
"That's what I'm trying to tell you," he bit out. "You have to stay with him. No matter what fancy takes you, just…stay."
Then, a whisper: "Don't turn out like me."
Slowly, he let go of her and she slid off the bed, unnerved and unsure what she could say. Thankfully, the door opened and she heard Owen's whistling carrying through the Hub.
"Where's the invalid then?" he said, entering the infirmary and visibly wincing. "Well, look at you. Did Ianto finally get his own back?"
Jack smiled tightly. "He's visiting his sister."
Owen barked out a laugh. "Well, lucky us."
"I'll leave you to it," Gwen said quickly, striding through the Hub and fishing out her mobile.
"Rhys, love? I'm coming home."
~
Jack groaned. It was a pity immortality had no effect on hangovers.
"Well, aren't you a pretty sight?"
Prising one eye open, he regarded the blurry figure moving about his room. "Ianto. Aren't you…away?"
"Owen called. Said you'd wandered through Splott drunk as a skunk and terrorised Gwen."
He wasn't entirely sure if it had been Splott. But then there had been a lot of wandering and a lot of bars, so who knew really?
"Earth to Jack?"
"G'way," he mumbled, trying to turn over and hitting a particularly large bruise. He instantly tensed, aggravating a dozen other injuries and cursing in four different languages punctuated with pained grunts.
"If you carry on like this, Tosh will think we're at it again," Ianto said, mildly. "She turned beetroot the last time I mentioned it."
Jack blinked. "What time…?"
"Ten-thirty." Jack cursed again and started to sit up, but Ianto pinned him with ease. "But you're staying here."
"I'm fine," he growled. "It's just a hangover."
Ianto regarded him shrewdly. "And you gave Gwen the whole spiel about how you wished you hadn't slept with all those people, depression and woe, give-me-ten-children-and-a-cat-to-be-happy."
"Ianto…" he said warningly, but Ianto silenced him with a look.
"I'm not buying it," he said stubbornly, unbuttoning his shirt.
"Ianto, what are you-"
"Going to bed. Someone called me at three a.m. because my boss got himself beaten up."
"Inconsiderate bastard," Jack mumbled, coyly pushing off the duvet.
"Tell me about it. But the pay's good and the pterodactyl would miss me."
"File a complaint."
"And have my coffee privileges restricted? Too risky."
"I'll fight for you." Jack felt his eyes closing and yawned loudly.
"I think you've done enough fighting, cariad."
Jack frowned. "Don't know that one."
Ianto slipped into bed beside him, arranging himself around Jack's bruises. "Tell you later. Now, shut up and go to sleep."
He smelled like coffee and burnt toast, and when Jack pulled him close, it felt just a little like home. "I wonder-"
"Well, stop." Ianto kissed the top of his head. "It's done now. Go to sleep."
"Why do you put up with me?"
Ianto sighed. "Do you really want an answer?"
"Yes."
He was pulled closer, enveloped, and Ianto's murmur was soft against his cheek. "Because I let go of my past. Because I realised you could leave at any moment." A quiet sigh. "Because I need this too."
Jack absorbed the words slowly and then nodded against Ianto's neck. It seemed so simple when he said it, so painful and yet so clear. It's done now.
"Now will you go to sleep?"
Chuckling under his breath, grateful and giddy and free, Jack closed his eyes and slept.
TITLE: A million lies
AUTHOR: Demon Faith
FANDOM: Torchwood
PAIRINGS: Jack/Ianto (hints of Jack/Gwen *spits*, Jack/Doctor)
SPOILERS: To the end of Season Two
CONTINUITY: In my happy post-S2 AU where everyone is alive
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: Jack has some advice for Gwen
DISCLAIMER: If I owned them, the Season 2 finale would be a bad dream and nothing more.
NOTES: Uh…I'm sure this started out as crack fic. Based on 'I've Never Been To Me' by Charlene - here.
For fiyre, on the occasion of her birthday.
The door to the Hub ground open and Gwen looked up from her desk.
"Ianto? Is that you?"
"He's 'way"
With a clatter, Jack's pistol spun across the floor and the bundle of coat beside it quivered slightly. Gwen was out of her seat and across the room in an instant, kneeling down beside Jack.
He looked up at her with two black eyes, smiling despite his split lip and bruised cheek. "Gw'n?"
"Jack, what happened?" she said, trying to sit him up as he winced and spat blood over her new jeans.
"Fight. Whisk'y." He paused. "Maybe…not…that ord'r."
"You're drunk," she said, flatly, wondering what she'd done to deserve this. Where was Ianto when you needed him?
"'S better thanna slap intha face." Jack spat again. "I got b'th."
"I'll ring Owen," she said, not wanting to suffer through an inebriated Jack alone, and hauled him to his feet. He stayed vaguely upright, but his shuffle-stagger to the infirmary took ten arduous minutes. Gwen really hoped the video blackmail would be worth it.
Perched on the infirmary bed, with an ice pack held to his swelling cheek, he began to look a little sheepish. Gwen forced half a pint of water down him and tried Owen's flat.
"Yeah, what?"
"Owen, it's Gwen. Jack's been hurt. Can you get down here?"
"Hurt? How badly? Was it a Weevil?"
"Jack Daniel's."
A chuckle then, and another voice in the background, murmuring. "I'll be right there. Hold the fort."
The line clicked off and Gwen shook her head, turning back to her charge with a quelling look. "So, do want to talk about it?"
Jack regarded her solemnly and held his ribs awkwardly. "Sorry."
"Where's Ianto?"
The expression on his face changed, and he looked away. "Visiting his sister."
"Is that…why?"
He wouldn't look at her. "Not really."
After a long moment of silence, he looked at her again and then shook his head. "Advice, Gwen? Hold on to Rhys."
She frowned. "I don't follow."
"I was stupid," he said, running bloodied fingers through his hair. "When I was young. Younger. You think Rhys means the end of something, something good. You…don't know."
Gwen sighed. "Jack, you're not making any sense."
"I know," he said, ruefully. "But listen anyway. Don't leave him. Don't ever leave him."
"I'm not going to leave him, Jack." She felt herself blushing. "Look, if this is about-"
"It's not."
Another moment of silence passed before Gwen cleared her throat. "So what is it then?"
"I'm full of stories. Stories of love affairs, wild nights, exotic aliens. Those things…they didn't make me happy, Gwen."
She sat down beside him and touched his arm. "There, now, that's the JD talking. In the morning-"
"I bedded Edward the Eighth."
"You…what?"
"Edward. The one who left, y'know? For the American. Wallis was just the story."
Gwen shook her head to clear it. "Jack, I-"
"And Grace Kelly. Frank Sinatra. All four Beatles - John Lennon twice. Bob Dylan - well, almost. That's a…" He trailed off and bowed his head. "Great story."
She put an arm around his shoulders. "Jack, why are you telling me this?"
He looked at her with unfocussed eyes. "I travelled the universe…whoring myself out, for fun, for fame, for…a story. And then I met…him, but I was stuck here for a hundred years. And it was too easy just to…become that man again, to see if it would work better on just one planet." He smiled. "It didn't."
Gwen didn't know what to say. Jack shrugged her off, clutching his side again.
"And so I do this. I do this because…I can't settle. Not for…Ianto, not for you…"
"Jack, don't," she said, trying to shut out thoughts of her and Jack. She had Rhys. Loving, dependable Rhys.
Suddenly, he grabbed her shirt and pulled her closer. His breath smelled sweet and, for a moment, she thought he might kiss her. But he looked away, his hands shaking.
"That's what I'm trying to tell you," he bit out. "You have to stay with him. No matter what fancy takes you, just…stay."
Then, a whisper: "Don't turn out like me."
Slowly, he let go of her and she slid off the bed, unnerved and unsure what she could say. Thankfully, the door opened and she heard Owen's whistling carrying through the Hub.
"Where's the invalid then?" he said, entering the infirmary and visibly wincing. "Well, look at you. Did Ianto finally get his own back?"
Jack smiled tightly. "He's visiting his sister."
Owen barked out a laugh. "Well, lucky us."
"I'll leave you to it," Gwen said quickly, striding through the Hub and fishing out her mobile.
"Rhys, love? I'm coming home."
~
Jack groaned. It was a pity immortality had no effect on hangovers.
"Well, aren't you a pretty sight?"
Prising one eye open, he regarded the blurry figure moving about his room. "Ianto. Aren't you…away?"
"Owen called. Said you'd wandered through Splott drunk as a skunk and terrorised Gwen."
He wasn't entirely sure if it had been Splott. But then there had been a lot of wandering and a lot of bars, so who knew really?
"Earth to Jack?"
"G'way," he mumbled, trying to turn over and hitting a particularly large bruise. He instantly tensed, aggravating a dozen other injuries and cursing in four different languages punctuated with pained grunts.
"If you carry on like this, Tosh will think we're at it again," Ianto said, mildly. "She turned beetroot the last time I mentioned it."
Jack blinked. "What time…?"
"Ten-thirty." Jack cursed again and started to sit up, but Ianto pinned him with ease. "But you're staying here."
"I'm fine," he growled. "It's just a hangover."
Ianto regarded him shrewdly. "And you gave Gwen the whole spiel about how you wished you hadn't slept with all those people, depression and woe, give-me-ten-children-and-a-cat-to-be-happy."
"Ianto…" he said warningly, but Ianto silenced him with a look.
"I'm not buying it," he said stubbornly, unbuttoning his shirt.
"Ianto, what are you-"
"Going to bed. Someone called me at three a.m. because my boss got himself beaten up."
"Inconsiderate bastard," Jack mumbled, coyly pushing off the duvet.
"Tell me about it. But the pay's good and the pterodactyl would miss me."
"File a complaint."
"And have my coffee privileges restricted? Too risky."
"I'll fight for you." Jack felt his eyes closing and yawned loudly.
"I think you've done enough fighting, cariad."
Jack frowned. "Don't know that one."
Ianto slipped into bed beside him, arranging himself around Jack's bruises. "Tell you later. Now, shut up and go to sleep."
He smelled like coffee and burnt toast, and when Jack pulled him close, it felt just a little like home. "I wonder-"
"Well, stop." Ianto kissed the top of his head. "It's done now. Go to sleep."
"Why do you put up with me?"
Ianto sighed. "Do you really want an answer?"
"Yes."
He was pulled closer, enveloped, and Ianto's murmur was soft against his cheek. "Because I let go of my past. Because I realised you could leave at any moment." A quiet sigh. "Because I need this too."
Jack absorbed the words slowly and then nodded against Ianto's neck. It seemed so simple when he said it, so painful and yet so clear. It's done now.
"Now will you go to sleep?"
Chuckling under his breath, grateful and giddy and free, Jack closed his eyes and slept.