TW fic: "The Cat in the Plass, and the Robot Below" (G, 1,095 words)
Another no-pressure free-write. I'm feeling my way back to a calmer, more emo Ianto. ^^
Title: The Cat in the Plass, and the Robot Below
Rating: G
Word Count: 1,095
Setting: Post Fragments, pre-series
Spoilers: You've seen Cyberwoman, right?
Summary: There's a kitten in the tourist shop. Not as fluffy (ha!) as that makes it sound.
Teaser: "Everyone else has gone home, even Suzie." Jack crossed his arms across his chest and tilted his chin at Ianto. Even in the horrible shop lighting, which tinted everything orange, Jack's eyes made a point of being blue.
The Cat in the Plass, and the Robot Below
The kitten that lived on the Plass had gotten awfully long and slinky in the past few weeks. It had also, if Ianto could speak perfectly honestly, grown quite an attitude.
"I'm terribly sorry," said Ianto. "This is a humans only tourist shop."
The kitten flicked the tip of its tail and continued browsing the brochures. If it hadn't been for the three-quarter swivel of an ear, Ianto would assume that the kitten wasn't listening to him at all, like the old lady who wandered in every Friday with a green and purple houndstooth coat belted tightly around her middle and a different tint to her hair every other week. This month, it seemed, she was working her way around the cool half of the color wheel. "Blue rinse" didn't really cover it.
The kitten, at least, was generally brown, although there were some dark stripes gaining definition along the spine.
Ianto politely cleared his throat. "Had I seen you come in, I would have informed you at the time that your presence is, regretfully, unwelcome. I must ask you to cut short your shopping and leave the premises."
The kitten rose from its studied, curl-haunched seat on the floor, and padded thoughtfully to the revolving rack of keychains.
"Even if you were human, you are a juvenile, and thus I simply can't allow you in the shop without supervision. Surely you understand why," Ianto said.
The kitten seemed undecided between a plastic-encased photo key-chain of Cardiff castle, and an engraved pewter one depicting King Arthur. It batted carefully at one, then the other, causing a gentle series of clacks to float around the shop.
"Even if you weren't a juvenile," Ianto reasoned, "I can hardly imagine that you've got money tucked away in your fur to pay for anything. This tourist shop has a very strict no-loitering policy."
The kitten hooked a claw in the ring of the King Arthur keychain and pulled it out to gnaw on the edge of it, just a few desultory fang-scrapes. Its lips curled away from the teeth fearsomely, if a bit unattractively.
"Well, that is thoroughly inappropriate," said Ianto, his hands on his hips. "I must ask you not to chew the merchandise." The Friday Lady, surely, would never do such a thing. She was far too busy leaving yellowed candy wrappers in the nooks and crannies of the book display.
The kitten evidently decided that the King Arthur keychain was distasteful, and arched up suddenly to examine the row of tasseled bookmarks halfway up the rack. Its back legs stretched crooked and tensile into the soft-fuzzed midsection-Ianto was glad to see the hint of tummy there; evidently the chip vendor didn't mind loiterers as much-and a front paw propped against the rack. The other paw reached for the fragile nylon tassels and Ianto was just about to physically remove the kitten from the display when the secret door clunked open. The kitten froze, then leapt a few feet away.
"Good evening, sir," said Ianto pleasantly. "It's lovely to see you, but I would ask that you not use that entrance when there is a customer in the shop, if you don't mind."
Jack, one hand in the middle of tucking a can of Weevil mace in a pocket of his cargo vest, blinked at him.
Ianto gestured toward the kitten, which was staring at Jack with round, immobile eyes, one paw ready to dash for the door.
"That's a cat," said Jack.
"Kitten, actually," Ianto said. "I believe it's about four to five months old."
Jack tilted his head at Ianto and leaned slightly against the counter, probably just to show how his hip could cock out. "Isn't this a human-only shop?" Jack asked.
"I've been thinking about that," said Ianto, canting his shoulders back in a particular way that always made Jack look at them instead of his face, at their roundness beneath the suit, at the stretch of fabric across his chest. Ianto had noticed those looks. "Perhaps we should become more inclusive," he said. "Even cats must be in need of information on Cardiff, surely."
"Oh, yeah," said Jack with a grin. "Maybe we should get brochures on the top ten mouse-hunting sites, or something."
"I'll look into it immediately," Ianto replied with a small smile. He glanced at the kitten, who had apparently decided that Jack was not an immediate threat, and was rubbing its chin against a hardback copy of a picturebook on pretty spots of nothing, otherwise known as "the countryside."
"Ianto, why are you still here?"
Ianto snapped back to look at Jack, who sounded only 85% flirtatious and 15% curious, in a bad way.
"I wasn't aware it was all that late, sir," Ianto said, and stuck his hands in his pockets. This made his jacket part across his belly. "It's not even dark out."
"Yeah, but the Rift was really quiet today. Everyone else has gone home, even Suzie." Jack crossed his arms across his chest and tilted his chin at Ianto. Even in the horrible shop lighting, which tinted everything orange, Jack's eyes made a point of being blue.
"The shop doesn't close until six," said Ianto. "The hours are posted; we can't disappoint our customers, can we?" The angle of Jack's chin was still suspicious so Ianto added, tilting his own head a bit: "I don't really mind staying late, sir. It's... calming." He learned that pause from Lisa, who'd fetched more files from London's archives than her department really needed. She stood in the half-flicker of a halogen bulb, leaned against A-E and said, I know this is admin work, but I don't really mind coming down here. It's....
Jack grinned slowly, but showed all of his teeth. "I gotta go catch a Weevil," he said. "But maybe when I get back, we can talk about the shop policies?"
"Definitely," said Ianto. "I'll be here."
Jack believed there was no shame in using old tricks, apparently, because he brushed closer to Ianto than was necessary as he left.
Ianto held his breath and let his eyelids flutter just a bit. He'd learned that from Lisa, too; it had made him crazy in the moments just before a drawn-out kiss.
The kitten was unconcerned as the door snicked closed behind the man with heavy boots. It nudged against the hat rack, curled its tail and torso clear around it.
Ianto grabbed the kitten round the middle and threw it out into the night. There wasn't time to waste, not with Lisa down below.
Title: The Cat in the Plass, and the Robot Below
Rating: G
Word Count: 1,095
Setting: Post Fragments, pre-series
Spoilers: You've seen Cyberwoman, right?
Summary: There's a kitten in the tourist shop. Not as fluffy (ha!) as that makes it sound.
Teaser: "Everyone else has gone home, even Suzie." Jack crossed his arms across his chest and tilted his chin at Ianto. Even in the horrible shop lighting, which tinted everything orange, Jack's eyes made a point of being blue.
The Cat in the Plass, and the Robot Below
The kitten that lived on the Plass had gotten awfully long and slinky in the past few weeks. It had also, if Ianto could speak perfectly honestly, grown quite an attitude.
"I'm terribly sorry," said Ianto. "This is a humans only tourist shop."
The kitten flicked the tip of its tail and continued browsing the brochures. If it hadn't been for the three-quarter swivel of an ear, Ianto would assume that the kitten wasn't listening to him at all, like the old lady who wandered in every Friday with a green and purple houndstooth coat belted tightly around her middle and a different tint to her hair every other week. This month, it seemed, she was working her way around the cool half of the color wheel. "Blue rinse" didn't really cover it.
The kitten, at least, was generally brown, although there were some dark stripes gaining definition along the spine.
Ianto politely cleared his throat. "Had I seen you come in, I would have informed you at the time that your presence is, regretfully, unwelcome. I must ask you to cut short your shopping and leave the premises."
The kitten rose from its studied, curl-haunched seat on the floor, and padded thoughtfully to the revolving rack of keychains.
"Even if you were human, you are a juvenile, and thus I simply can't allow you in the shop without supervision. Surely you understand why," Ianto said.
The kitten seemed undecided between a plastic-encased photo key-chain of Cardiff castle, and an engraved pewter one depicting King Arthur. It batted carefully at one, then the other, causing a gentle series of clacks to float around the shop.
"Even if you weren't a juvenile," Ianto reasoned, "I can hardly imagine that you've got money tucked away in your fur to pay for anything. This tourist shop has a very strict no-loitering policy."
The kitten hooked a claw in the ring of the King Arthur keychain and pulled it out to gnaw on the edge of it, just a few desultory fang-scrapes. Its lips curled away from the teeth fearsomely, if a bit unattractively.
"Well, that is thoroughly inappropriate," said Ianto, his hands on his hips. "I must ask you not to chew the merchandise." The Friday Lady, surely, would never do such a thing. She was far too busy leaving yellowed candy wrappers in the nooks and crannies of the book display.
The kitten evidently decided that the King Arthur keychain was distasteful, and arched up suddenly to examine the row of tasseled bookmarks halfway up the rack. Its back legs stretched crooked and tensile into the soft-fuzzed midsection-Ianto was glad to see the hint of tummy there; evidently the chip vendor didn't mind loiterers as much-and a front paw propped against the rack. The other paw reached for the fragile nylon tassels and Ianto was just about to physically remove the kitten from the display when the secret door clunked open. The kitten froze, then leapt a few feet away.
"Good evening, sir," said Ianto pleasantly. "It's lovely to see you, but I would ask that you not use that entrance when there is a customer in the shop, if you don't mind."
Jack, one hand in the middle of tucking a can of Weevil mace in a pocket of his cargo vest, blinked at him.
Ianto gestured toward the kitten, which was staring at Jack with round, immobile eyes, one paw ready to dash for the door.
"That's a cat," said Jack.
"Kitten, actually," Ianto said. "I believe it's about four to five months old."
Jack tilted his head at Ianto and leaned slightly against the counter, probably just to show how his hip could cock out. "Isn't this a human-only shop?" Jack asked.
"I've been thinking about that," said Ianto, canting his shoulders back in a particular way that always made Jack look at them instead of his face, at their roundness beneath the suit, at the stretch of fabric across his chest. Ianto had noticed those looks. "Perhaps we should become more inclusive," he said. "Even cats must be in need of information on Cardiff, surely."
"Oh, yeah," said Jack with a grin. "Maybe we should get brochures on the top ten mouse-hunting sites, or something."
"I'll look into it immediately," Ianto replied with a small smile. He glanced at the kitten, who had apparently decided that Jack was not an immediate threat, and was rubbing its chin against a hardback copy of a picturebook on pretty spots of nothing, otherwise known as "the countryside."
"Ianto, why are you still here?"
Ianto snapped back to look at Jack, who sounded only 85% flirtatious and 15% curious, in a bad way.
"I wasn't aware it was all that late, sir," Ianto said, and stuck his hands in his pockets. This made his jacket part across his belly. "It's not even dark out."
"Yeah, but the Rift was really quiet today. Everyone else has gone home, even Suzie." Jack crossed his arms across his chest and tilted his chin at Ianto. Even in the horrible shop lighting, which tinted everything orange, Jack's eyes made a point of being blue.
"The shop doesn't close until six," said Ianto. "The hours are posted; we can't disappoint our customers, can we?" The angle of Jack's chin was still suspicious so Ianto added, tilting his own head a bit: "I don't really mind staying late, sir. It's... calming." He learned that pause from Lisa, who'd fetched more files from London's archives than her department really needed. She stood in the half-flicker of a halogen bulb, leaned against A-E and said, I know this is admin work, but I don't really mind coming down here. It's....
Jack grinned slowly, but showed all of his teeth. "I gotta go catch a Weevil," he said. "But maybe when I get back, we can talk about the shop policies?"
"Definitely," said Ianto. "I'll be here."
Jack believed there was no shame in using old tricks, apparently, because he brushed closer to Ianto than was necessary as he left.
Ianto held his breath and let his eyelids flutter just a bit. He'd learned that from Lisa, too; it had made him crazy in the moments just before a drawn-out kiss.
The kitten was unconcerned as the door snicked closed behind the man with heavy boots. It nudged against the hat rack, curled its tail and torso clear around it.
Ianto grabbed the kitten round the middle and threw it out into the night. There wasn't time to waste, not with Lisa down below.