Guilt: Redux - 9/17+Epilogue
Title: Guilt: Redux
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairings: Jack/Ianto, references to Ianto/Lisa
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: If I was the one who owned Torchwood, you think I'd admit it now?
Spoilers: Some information and events from s1,2. NONE for s3.
Summary: Ianto knows he should be happy. He has his work and he has Lisa. Again. Finally. He knows he should be happy.
Author's Note: Alternate ending to Guilt - events of Guilt up to around ch50 take place. This picks up many months later... (There's a short recap of 'what you NEED to know from Guilt' before chapter one, if you haven't read it)
Thanks to: My lovely beta cazmalfoy, angelzbabe1989 for idea bouncing, and morbid_sparks for cheerleading even when she doesn't know what happens in this...
Previous chapters at master list
Chapter Nine
Lisa was curled up on the sofa watching endless, ridiculously disordered but still quietly enjoyable, repeats of ‘Friends’ on E4 when Ianto stumbled tiredly through the front door that evening.
“Hard day?” she asked, looking up as he shrugged out of his coat and took off his shoes at the door.
“Not particularly,” he said, leaning against the arm of the sofa for a moment. “Just long.”
Lisa nodded, going back to the show as he pushed upright again and headed towards the kitchen. “There’s some potato bake left for you in the fridge, by the way.”
“Thanks,” he called back from the other room.
One of the things Ianto had finally eased up on was his previous insistence on doing all of the major cooking for both of them. Before, the only ‘cooking’ she had been ‘allowed’ to do was assembling sandwiches for her lunch and occasionally ordering take-away for both of them if Ianto was running late of an evening.
He still preferred, when he was home early enough to do so, to be the one doing the cooking (and Lisa had to admit that he was actually a better cook than she was), but in the last few weeks he had finally started to accept that, especially on days when he was home a little later, it made more sense for her to cook.
She was home all day, almost every day, she had argued. What else did she have to do? Slowly, she was easing him into loosening his tight grip and letting her take over a variety of the household chores. Grocery shopping, a bit of light cleaning and occasionally cooking were all well within her capabilities.
If she listened under the sound of the TV, she could hear the distinctive sounds of the fridge being opened and then the microwave running.
A few minutes and some quiet clattering around the kitchen later, Ianto sank down beside her, plucking a cushion from behind them to put on his lap to shield his legs from the hot plate of food.
Another episode began on the TV just as Ianto dug into the meal. “I think I’ve seen this one before,” he said between mouthfuls.
Lisa just grinned at him. “Ianto, like nearly everyone in the whole of the Western world, you’ve probably seen them all. Twice.”
He nodded and continued to eat.
“So,” Lisa started with a smirk another several minutes later, “any ‘progress’ today?”
She’d asked this question, or some variant on it, every night for the last six days. And every day, she’d received a wandering roundabout answer that all came down to the same thing: no, Ianto hadn’t asked Jack out yet.
She looked at him, waiting, with her eyebrows raised. He swallowed the final bite of potato bake and carefully placed the plate on the floor next to his side of the sofa, clearly stalling for time.
“Well,” he started slowly, “the thing is, I was busy in the archives for most of the day, so…”
“So no, you chickened out. Again,” Lisa interrupted.
“Oi!” Ianto glared at her good-humouredly. “I did not chicken out. I just… didn’t find an appropriate moment.”
“You’ve been ‘not finding an appropriate moment’ for nearly a week now,” she pointed out. “I think that excuse is wearing somewhat thin.”
Ianto sighed. “It’s just… it’s awkward, okay? I’ve been trying not to think about starting anything with him for… a while, and… he’s your friend too. Even though you’re the one pushing me to go ahead and do this, there’s something in me still feels a bit guilty about it.” He lifted a shoulder sheepishly. “Plus I’m sort of worried he’ll say no.”
She shook her head at him. “Now that one I know isn’t going to happen. Remember what I told you before, Ianto. I’ve been watching him when you’re not looking. He’s not going to say no.”
“But…”
“But nothing, Jones. If you don’t ask him soon, I’m going to be forced to go down there and do it for you.”
Ianto’s expression was somewhere between horrified and hopeful.
“And no, that’s not a good idea,” she continued with a mischievous smirk. “You don’t want to know what I’d say.”
Ianto’s brow furrowed in thought for a second before he nodded. “You’re right. I really don’t.”
“You’d better get to it soon then, hadn’t you?” Lisa smiled.
The smile on Ianto’s face when he walked in the door the following evening told her everything she needed to know without even a word being spoken. His step was just minutely lighter, and happy anticipation mingled with nerves on his face.
She grinned up at him as he shook the rain off his coat. “He said yes?”
Ianto nodded, a joyous laugh clearly trying to break free. “He said yes.”
Chapter Ten
Comments and concrit (yes, really) are adored. Comments = <3
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairings: Jack/Ianto, references to Ianto/Lisa
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: If I was the one who owned Torchwood, you think I'd admit it now?
Spoilers: Some information and events from s1,2. NONE for s3.
Summary: Ianto knows he should be happy. He has his work and he has Lisa. Again. Finally. He knows he should be happy.
Author's Note: Alternate ending to Guilt - events of Guilt up to around ch50 take place. This picks up many months later... (There's a short recap of 'what you NEED to know from Guilt' before chapter one, if you haven't read it)
Thanks to: My lovely beta cazmalfoy, angelzbabe1989 for idea bouncing, and morbid_sparks for cheerleading even when she doesn't know what happens in this...
Previous chapters at master list
Chapter Nine
Lisa was curled up on the sofa watching endless, ridiculously disordered but still quietly enjoyable, repeats of ‘Friends’ on E4 when Ianto stumbled tiredly through the front door that evening.
“Hard day?” she asked, looking up as he shrugged out of his coat and took off his shoes at the door.
“Not particularly,” he said, leaning against the arm of the sofa for a moment. “Just long.”
Lisa nodded, going back to the show as he pushed upright again and headed towards the kitchen. “There’s some potato bake left for you in the fridge, by the way.”
“Thanks,” he called back from the other room.
One of the things Ianto had finally eased up on was his previous insistence on doing all of the major cooking for both of them. Before, the only ‘cooking’ she had been ‘allowed’ to do was assembling sandwiches for her lunch and occasionally ordering take-away for both of them if Ianto was running late of an evening.
He still preferred, when he was home early enough to do so, to be the one doing the cooking (and Lisa had to admit that he was actually a better cook than she was), but in the last few weeks he had finally started to accept that, especially on days when he was home a little later, it made more sense for her to cook.
She was home all day, almost every day, she had argued. What else did she have to do? Slowly, she was easing him into loosening his tight grip and letting her take over a variety of the household chores. Grocery shopping, a bit of light cleaning and occasionally cooking were all well within her capabilities.
If she listened under the sound of the TV, she could hear the distinctive sounds of the fridge being opened and then the microwave running.
A few minutes and some quiet clattering around the kitchen later, Ianto sank down beside her, plucking a cushion from behind them to put on his lap to shield his legs from the hot plate of food.
Another episode began on the TV just as Ianto dug into the meal. “I think I’ve seen this one before,” he said between mouthfuls.
Lisa just grinned at him. “Ianto, like nearly everyone in the whole of the Western world, you’ve probably seen them all. Twice.”
He nodded and continued to eat.
“So,” Lisa started with a smirk another several minutes later, “any ‘progress’ today?”
She’d asked this question, or some variant on it, every night for the last six days. And every day, she’d received a wandering roundabout answer that all came down to the same thing: no, Ianto hadn’t asked Jack out yet.
She looked at him, waiting, with her eyebrows raised. He swallowed the final bite of potato bake and carefully placed the plate on the floor next to his side of the sofa, clearly stalling for time.
“Well,” he started slowly, “the thing is, I was busy in the archives for most of the day, so…”
“So no, you chickened out. Again,” Lisa interrupted.
“Oi!” Ianto glared at her good-humouredly. “I did not chicken out. I just… didn’t find an appropriate moment.”
“You’ve been ‘not finding an appropriate moment’ for nearly a week now,” she pointed out. “I think that excuse is wearing somewhat thin.”
Ianto sighed. “It’s just… it’s awkward, okay? I’ve been trying not to think about starting anything with him for… a while, and… he’s your friend too. Even though you’re the one pushing me to go ahead and do this, there’s something in me still feels a bit guilty about it.” He lifted a shoulder sheepishly. “Plus I’m sort of worried he’ll say no.”
She shook her head at him. “Now that one I know isn’t going to happen. Remember what I told you before, Ianto. I’ve been watching him when you’re not looking. He’s not going to say no.”
“But…”
“But nothing, Jones. If you don’t ask him soon, I’m going to be forced to go down there and do it for you.”
Ianto’s expression was somewhere between horrified and hopeful.
“And no, that’s not a good idea,” she continued with a mischievous smirk. “You don’t want to know what I’d say.”
Ianto’s brow furrowed in thought for a second before he nodded. “You’re right. I really don’t.”
“You’d better get to it soon then, hadn’t you?” Lisa smiled.
The smile on Ianto’s face when he walked in the door the following evening told her everything she needed to know without even a word being spoken. His step was just minutely lighter, and happy anticipation mingled with nerves on his face.
She grinned up at him as he shook the rain off his coat. “He said yes?”
Ianto nodded, a joyous laugh clearly trying to break free. “He said yes.”
Chapter Ten
Comments and concrit (yes, really) are adored. Comments = <3