Torchwood -- Waiting Room
Title: Waiting Room
Count the Ways prompt: Rhys Williams
Date Written: 8/8/08
Rating: PG-13/T
Word Count: 522
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters/Pairings: Ianto/Jack, Rhys/Gwen, implied Gwen/??
Spoilers: Up through Series 02, and minor for The Twilight Streets. That's right.
Warnings: None
Author's Notes: This has been in my head since I read the bit in the book The Twilight Streets. The original line is before the fic.
"When I married you, I imagined an NHS hospital, me pacing the corridors for eight hours drinking weak-as-piss tea, and Jack stood there, winding me up saying it was an alien. Or his. Or both."
--The Twilight Streets, pg 168
"You know it's mine, right?"
Once Rhys had finally learned just what it was that Torchwood did, he'd made a very hard decision. He either had to let Gwen go or he had to accept Torchwood as a Fact of his Life and take all the bullshit that came with it. The incredibly long hours, the not knowing if she was going to come back home. And Jack Bloody Harkness, of course. Jack was the God of Torchwood, they'd all worshiped him.
(well, that Ianto Jones bloke had been more like a skeptic. he and Rhys had gotten along famously)
But he loved Gwen, and couldn't picture his life without her, so he'd accepted the inevitable. The not-quite-so ruined wedding had been a fiasco, but they'd ended up married so he took it as a wash. It certainly was memorable.
So when Gwen's water had broken, signaling the impending arrival of their firstborn, Rhys had rung up Jack and Ianto as soon as they got her into a hospital room. The other two-thirds of Torchwood had shown up in record time.
"That's why I interrupted your wedding," Jack said over his shoulder. The three men were in the maternity ward's waiting room, Rhys sitting on one aisle drinking some of the worst tea he'd ever come across in his entire life, Ianto on the other side reading some parenting magazine that had probably been printed back in the 1980s, and Jack pacing the aisle between the rows, coat swaying as he walked. "Couldn't stand for the mother of my child to marry someone else."
"Jack," Ianto scolded, not looking up from his magazine, "we all know that pregnancy was alien in origin. I believe the phrase was alien psycho bitch?"
Jack let out a dramatic sigh and flopped down in the chair next to Rhys. "Fine, Ianto, you caught me. Besides, birth control is always used when me and Gwen have sex."
Rhys looked over at Ianto, who just turned the page in his magazine. He looked back over at Jack, still stunned by his words. "Don't you ever think that maybe it hurts him when you say things like that?" he demanded, gesturing across the aisle to Ianto.
The question was not what the Captain was obviously expecting, and he gaped at the Welshman.
Ianto chose that moment to put his two cents in, looking up from his magazine. "We're all worried about her, so Jack is trying to get a rise out of you so you'll yell so he can yell back and I'll have to stop the argument before it comes to blows and we'll all get some tension out. Basically, he's just trying to blow off some steam."
"I'd like to blow something," Jack said, the innuendo weak to all three of them.
"Thank you for proving my point," Ianto deadpanned. There was a pause as he looked back down at the magazine in his lap, flipping a no-longer-glossy page before he added, "And anyway, it's mine."
The sting of the tea Rhys snorted up his nose was well worth watching Jack fall out of his chair laughing.
Count the Ways prompt: Rhys Williams
Date Written: 8/8/08
Rating: PG-13/T
Word Count: 522
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters/Pairings: Ianto/Jack, Rhys/Gwen, implied Gwen/??
Spoilers: Up through Series 02, and minor for The Twilight Streets. That's right.
Warnings: None
Author's Notes: This has been in my head since I read the bit in the book The Twilight Streets. The original line is before the fic.
"When I married you, I imagined an NHS hospital, me pacing the corridors for eight hours drinking weak-as-piss tea, and Jack stood there, winding me up saying it was an alien. Or his. Or both."
--The Twilight Streets, pg 168
"You know it's mine, right?"
Once Rhys had finally learned just what it was that Torchwood did, he'd made a very hard decision. He either had to let Gwen go or he had to accept Torchwood as a Fact of his Life and take all the bullshit that came with it. The incredibly long hours, the not knowing if she was going to come back home. And Jack Bloody Harkness, of course. Jack was the God of Torchwood, they'd all worshiped him.
(well, that Ianto Jones bloke had been more like a skeptic. he and Rhys had gotten along famously)
But he loved Gwen, and couldn't picture his life without her, so he'd accepted the inevitable. The not-quite-so ruined wedding had been a fiasco, but they'd ended up married so he took it as a wash. It certainly was memorable.
So when Gwen's water had broken, signaling the impending arrival of their firstborn, Rhys had rung up Jack and Ianto as soon as they got her into a hospital room. The other two-thirds of Torchwood had shown up in record time.
"That's why I interrupted your wedding," Jack said over his shoulder. The three men were in the maternity ward's waiting room, Rhys sitting on one aisle drinking some of the worst tea he'd ever come across in his entire life, Ianto on the other side reading some parenting magazine that had probably been printed back in the 1980s, and Jack pacing the aisle between the rows, coat swaying as he walked. "Couldn't stand for the mother of my child to marry someone else."
"Jack," Ianto scolded, not looking up from his magazine, "we all know that pregnancy was alien in origin. I believe the phrase was alien psycho bitch?"
Jack let out a dramatic sigh and flopped down in the chair next to Rhys. "Fine, Ianto, you caught me. Besides, birth control is always used when me and Gwen have sex."
Rhys looked over at Ianto, who just turned the page in his magazine. He looked back over at Jack, still stunned by his words. "Don't you ever think that maybe it hurts him when you say things like that?" he demanded, gesturing across the aisle to Ianto.
The question was not what the Captain was obviously expecting, and he gaped at the Welshman.
Ianto chose that moment to put his two cents in, looking up from his magazine. "We're all worried about her, so Jack is trying to get a rise out of you so you'll yell so he can yell back and I'll have to stop the argument before it comes to blows and we'll all get some tension out. Basically, he's just trying to blow off some steam."
"I'd like to blow something," Jack said, the innuendo weak to all three of them.
"Thank you for proving my point," Ianto deadpanned. There was a pause as he looked back down at the magazine in his lap, flipping a no-longer-glossy page before he added, "And anyway, it's mine."
The sting of the tea Rhys snorted up his nose was well worth watching Jack fall out of his chair laughing.