Torchwood // Simple Pleasures
Title: Simple Pleasures
Author: Sarah
Rating: PG
Words: 692
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Characters: mentions of Gwen, Tosh, and Owen
Summary: Ianto found that the simple things in life brought the most happiness.
Notes: Written for Challenge #16 at horizonssing.
Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood.
Ianto wasn’t old, but he was wise for his years. He was a smart boy growing up, always achieving excellent marks in school, but he was naïve in the ways of the world. Torchwood changed that.
After Canary Wharf, after Lisa, he knew he couldn’t take things for granted anymore. The Earth as humans knew it was changing, and Ianto was slowly becoming aware of that. He was also starting to realize the dangers that working for Torchwood entailed. Everything he knew could be gone in an instant, making the happy things in his life that much more meaningful.
He found that the simple things in life brought the most pleasure.
For Gwen, it was an extra spoonful of sugar in the mug of tea she drank every afternoon. Usually on Wednesdays, Ianto would dump in a little extra and wink as he placed it on her desk. She always smiled a little brighter on those days.
For Tosh, it was a pack of multi-colored Post-It notes on her desk. She used them like crazy, always placing a colored square with scrawled, illegible notes on any surface imaginable. Every now and then, Ianto would toss a new pack onto her desk and smile to himself when he saw the new colors decorating her workspace.
For Owen, it was peace and quiet while he worked in the medical bay. There were days when Jack, Gwen, and Tosh were absent from the Hub, leaving Owen to examine the latest arrival through the rift and Ianto to man the tourist desk. On some occasions, Ianto would wander from his desk to enter the hub, for whatever reason, to find Owen in his glory. From above, Ianto was able to observe the doctor’s behavior and smile silently to himself as Owen danced around with the scalpel as his microphone singing cheesy American pop music.
For Jack, it was, oddly enough, a clean pressed shirt and new suspenders. He had sent Ianto out on an errand to pick up his dry cleaning. Despite the shock that Jack actually sent his clothes away to be pressed, Ianto obliged. He was certain that Jack wore about three different shirts, or at least owned the several of the same shirts in about three different colors, but Ianto never attributed dry cleaning as to why they always looked so good on Jack. A few hours later, Ianto returned with Jack’s clothes and a small bag he shrugged off as something small he picked up. Jack walked a little taller the next day with his powder blue button down and new navy suspenders.
For Ianto, it was a flannel blanket, ham and cheese sandwiches, and a starry night. It started as something he did alone, relaxing by himself on his roof, watching the stars flicker and shine, but it later progressed into something he did with Jack.
It was one of those nights. Jack had laid out the blanket and Ianto had packed the sandwiches. They drove out of the city; the nighttime lights of Cardiff were too bright. It wasn’t the late night picnics that Ianto enjoyed so much, or even the shiny celestial bodies that had originally made him so content to lie outside. The stars were just a bonus now, something pretty to look at.
The true beauty in the moment, what really made lying under the stars so magical, was his fingers laced between Jack’s and the steady thump of Jack’s heart that always seemed to ring in his ears afterwards. With work on the back of his mind, Ianto knew not to take the moment for granted because it might not come again for awhile.
He rolled over feeling Jack’s hand wrap around his waist to adjust to his changed position. Ianto rested his head on Jack’s chest, his ear in the perfect to listen to the melody of Jack’s heartbeat. He closed his eyes, savoring the beautiful melody, beautiful night, beautiful moment, beautiful everything.
Blankets, sandwiches, and stars were simple, but they kept Ianto happy. But the true pleasure that came from these simple things wasn’t the things themselves. It was sharing his happiness with Jack.
Author: Sarah
Rating: PG
Words: 692
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Characters: mentions of Gwen, Tosh, and Owen
Summary: Ianto found that the simple things in life brought the most happiness.
Notes: Written for Challenge #16 at horizonssing.
Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood.
Ianto wasn’t old, but he was wise for his years. He was a smart boy growing up, always achieving excellent marks in school, but he was naïve in the ways of the world. Torchwood changed that.
After Canary Wharf, after Lisa, he knew he couldn’t take things for granted anymore. The Earth as humans knew it was changing, and Ianto was slowly becoming aware of that. He was also starting to realize the dangers that working for Torchwood entailed. Everything he knew could be gone in an instant, making the happy things in his life that much more meaningful.
He found that the simple things in life brought the most pleasure.
For Gwen, it was an extra spoonful of sugar in the mug of tea she drank every afternoon. Usually on Wednesdays, Ianto would dump in a little extra and wink as he placed it on her desk. She always smiled a little brighter on those days.
For Tosh, it was a pack of multi-colored Post-It notes on her desk. She used them like crazy, always placing a colored square with scrawled, illegible notes on any surface imaginable. Every now and then, Ianto would toss a new pack onto her desk and smile to himself when he saw the new colors decorating her workspace.
For Owen, it was peace and quiet while he worked in the medical bay. There were days when Jack, Gwen, and Tosh were absent from the Hub, leaving Owen to examine the latest arrival through the rift and Ianto to man the tourist desk. On some occasions, Ianto would wander from his desk to enter the hub, for whatever reason, to find Owen in his glory. From above, Ianto was able to observe the doctor’s behavior and smile silently to himself as Owen danced around with the scalpel as his microphone singing cheesy American pop music.
For Jack, it was, oddly enough, a clean pressed shirt and new suspenders. He had sent Ianto out on an errand to pick up his dry cleaning. Despite the shock that Jack actually sent his clothes away to be pressed, Ianto obliged. He was certain that Jack wore about three different shirts, or at least owned the several of the same shirts in about three different colors, but Ianto never attributed dry cleaning as to why they always looked so good on Jack. A few hours later, Ianto returned with Jack’s clothes and a small bag he shrugged off as something small he picked up. Jack walked a little taller the next day with his powder blue button down and new navy suspenders.
For Ianto, it was a flannel blanket, ham and cheese sandwiches, and a starry night. It started as something he did alone, relaxing by himself on his roof, watching the stars flicker and shine, but it later progressed into something he did with Jack.
It was one of those nights. Jack had laid out the blanket and Ianto had packed the sandwiches. They drove out of the city; the nighttime lights of Cardiff were too bright. It wasn’t the late night picnics that Ianto enjoyed so much, or even the shiny celestial bodies that had originally made him so content to lie outside. The stars were just a bonus now, something pretty to look at.
The true beauty in the moment, what really made lying under the stars so magical, was his fingers laced between Jack’s and the steady thump of Jack’s heart that always seemed to ring in his ears afterwards. With work on the back of his mind, Ianto knew not to take the moment for granted because it might not come again for awhile.
He rolled over feeling Jack’s hand wrap around his waist to adjust to his changed position. Ianto rested his head on Jack’s chest, his ear in the perfect to listen to the melody of Jack’s heartbeat. He closed his eyes, savoring the beautiful melody, beautiful night, beautiful moment, beautiful everything.
Blankets, sandwiches, and stars were simple, but they kept Ianto happy. But the true pleasure that came from these simple things wasn’t the things themselves. It was sharing his happiness with Jack.