Torchwood!Fic: Casualties- One Coat
Title: Casualties- One Coat
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Setting: the end of Sleeper (2x02), after Ianto gives Jack That Look and before Beth exits the episode.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 638
Casualties- One Coat
Ianto follows him into the office with the CB, short-shiny fingernails scraping at the duct tape scum already.
"Interesting solution to the phone problem," he says. The censure floats lightly, like pine needles on the surface of a lake.
Jack, in the middle of picking a print-out off the desk, looks up. "There wasn't much of an alternative," he says. Just a hint of irritation, but it drops when Ianto gives a look he hadn't quite intended to.
Ianto turns to the ladder into Jack's bedroom. "Shall I take your clothes in for cleaning and mending?" he says.
"I think they're a lost cause," Jack says. "I'll just have to buy more. Good thing I didn't blow all my allowance on comic books and bubble gum." He grins and Ianto smirks back a little bit. Not quite convincing, but it's there.
"I can take care of that for you," Ianto says. He looks down at the CB for a moment, poking at the antennae. "And the coat?"
Jack's coat is on a hanger in the back of his wardrobe, shoved behind a graduation gown in cellophane and his pinstriped Sunday Suit. He didn't want to look at it. "Um," says Jack. "Did you ever get that textile rebonder to work? The tear is pretty ragged, but if you calibrated it right-"
Ianto is already climbing down the ladder, CB set neatly beside the hatch. "Perhaps in future," he calls up, "you will consider taking it off before sacrificing your flesh for the good of the city."
"It was the good of the whole planet this time," Jack calls back. He fidgets by his desk for one moment more, then slides down the ladder like a sailor.
Ianto spins around, coat recovered from the dark and draped gingerly over his arm.
"It was a perfectly reasonable thing to do," Jack says.
"Of course it was," says Ianto. He closes the wardrobe door with a professional snick. "You can't die-not permanently, anyway-and that's always an advantage in battle. Was your murderer very surprised?"
"Well, no," says Jack. "But I bought us time, and he didn't hurt Gwen."
"Well then," says Ianto with a standard smile. "Things seemed to work out for the best." He pushes past to re-climb the ladder, but Jack curls an arm around his chest.
"What's the problem, Ianto," he says.
Ianto doesn't reply for a moment. He looks steadily at Jack's chin. "It's not a problem," he says quietly. "Just a bit unsettling."
"I know what you mean," Jack sighs.
"I have nightmares," Ianto says. His eyes meet Jack's. "Except they're memories, and sometimes I wake up before you come back."
Jack presses his fingers into the slippery cloth of Ianto's waistcoat. "It gets better after a while, I promise."
"All right," says Ianto. "If you say so," he adds, and means it.
Jack doesn't move. He should get back up to the office, look at those print-outs to determine if cryo-freezing Beth is viable, work on tracking down other sleeper agents, write a full report and captain's log... a hundred things he needs to do, but for the moment, he smells Ianto's favorite coffee, silk, a tinge of aftershave.
Ianto is standing very still. Breathing slightly fast.
"How quickly can you get my coat mended?" Jack asks lowly. "I've got a big date tonight, and I want to look captainly."
Ianto smirks properly this time, moves his nose in a gesture that might, if it weren't so precise, be called a 'nuzzle.' His voice is husky. "I will be most expedient. Sir."
"Good man," says Jack. He lets Ianto go and admires the view from the base of the ladder. Work, then play, he reminds himself. He glances around his bedroom, the barracks-spareness and the too-small bed. Die to live another day.
_____________________
cross-posted to torch_wood
Feedback, thou doth fill me with suffuse light.
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Setting: the end of Sleeper (2x02), after Ianto gives Jack That Look and before Beth exits the episode.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 638
Casualties- One Coat
Ianto follows him into the office with the CB, short-shiny fingernails scraping at the duct tape scum already.
"Interesting solution to the phone problem," he says. The censure floats lightly, like pine needles on the surface of a lake.
Jack, in the middle of picking a print-out off the desk, looks up. "There wasn't much of an alternative," he says. Just a hint of irritation, but it drops when Ianto gives a look he hadn't quite intended to.
Ianto turns to the ladder into Jack's bedroom. "Shall I take your clothes in for cleaning and mending?" he says.
"I think they're a lost cause," Jack says. "I'll just have to buy more. Good thing I didn't blow all my allowance on comic books and bubble gum." He grins and Ianto smirks back a little bit. Not quite convincing, but it's there.
"I can take care of that for you," Ianto says. He looks down at the CB for a moment, poking at the antennae. "And the coat?"
Jack's coat is on a hanger in the back of his wardrobe, shoved behind a graduation gown in cellophane and his pinstriped Sunday Suit. He didn't want to look at it. "Um," says Jack. "Did you ever get that textile rebonder to work? The tear is pretty ragged, but if you calibrated it right-"
Ianto is already climbing down the ladder, CB set neatly beside the hatch. "Perhaps in future," he calls up, "you will consider taking it off before sacrificing your flesh for the good of the city."
"It was the good of the whole planet this time," Jack calls back. He fidgets by his desk for one moment more, then slides down the ladder like a sailor.
Ianto spins around, coat recovered from the dark and draped gingerly over his arm.
"It was a perfectly reasonable thing to do," Jack says.
"Of course it was," says Ianto. He closes the wardrobe door with a professional snick. "You can't die-not permanently, anyway-and that's always an advantage in battle. Was your murderer very surprised?"
"Well, no," says Jack. "But I bought us time, and he didn't hurt Gwen."
"Well then," says Ianto with a standard smile. "Things seemed to work out for the best." He pushes past to re-climb the ladder, but Jack curls an arm around his chest.
"What's the problem, Ianto," he says.
Ianto doesn't reply for a moment. He looks steadily at Jack's chin. "It's not a problem," he says quietly. "Just a bit unsettling."
"I know what you mean," Jack sighs.
"I have nightmares," Ianto says. His eyes meet Jack's. "Except they're memories, and sometimes I wake up before you come back."
Jack presses his fingers into the slippery cloth of Ianto's waistcoat. "It gets better after a while, I promise."
"All right," says Ianto. "If you say so," he adds, and means it.
Jack doesn't move. He should get back up to the office, look at those print-outs to determine if cryo-freezing Beth is viable, work on tracking down other sleeper agents, write a full report and captain's log... a hundred things he needs to do, but for the moment, he smells Ianto's favorite coffee, silk, a tinge of aftershave.
Ianto is standing very still. Breathing slightly fast.
"How quickly can you get my coat mended?" Jack asks lowly. "I've got a big date tonight, and I want to look captainly."
Ianto smirks properly this time, moves his nose in a gesture that might, if it weren't so precise, be called a 'nuzzle.' His voice is husky. "I will be most expedient. Sir."
"Good man," says Jack. He lets Ianto go and admires the view from the base of the ladder. Work, then play, he reminds himself. He glances around his bedroom, the barracks-spareness and the too-small bed. Die to live another day.
_____________________
cross-posted to torch_wood
Feedback, thou doth fill me with suffuse light.