glovish freewrite
325 words, pre-S1, rated PG (big surprise)
I also wrote 637 words of the blanketfic today! Whooo.
glovish freewrite
Jack has half of the glove on before he realizes it's not fitting like it normally does. He stares at it, completely stymied, and waggles the empty fingers.
Ianto comes up like he's on a moving sidewalk and joins Jack in staring at the glove. After a long moment he asks, "Would you like to take a few hours' rest, sir? Suzie is getting around much better this afternoon; I'm sure she can handle the crisis for a while."
"No, I'm fine," says Jack, and sighs deeply. "I just can't get my glove to go on."
"Ah," says Ianto. "Sir-" he cuts himself off, standing with the subservient precision, the faintly high-strung sense of I dare not that makes Jack want to bite the edge of Ianto's jaw every time.
"Did you want to say something?" Jack asks, dredging up an amused smile from somewhere because Ianto does amuse him, even exhausted like this. Ianto's tight-laced but he's got a skitter in his eyes that makes Jack think his libido might be rocket powered. Rockets are carefully regulated and need two keys to fire, and isn't that a diverting thought.
"Nothing, sir," Ianto says. "Only-"
One of these days Jack will bite the edge of Ianto's jaw. He vows this solemnly to himself.
Ianto gives Jack a very careful, almost apologetic glance. "That's Toshiko's glove," he says.
Jack blinks. "It is?" he asks, and sounds a little lost.
"Yes sir," says Ianto, and reaches out to carefully pry the glove from Jack's fingers. "I can see how you became confused, however. That purple is very fetching on you." He presses the glove carefully to his chest, coddling the distended leather. "Do you require anything?" he asks solicitously.
"Um, no," says Jack. He manages a rueful smile. "I think I'm going to go lie down for a while, though. Tell Suzie she's in charge."
"Very good, sir," says Ianto, and slips from the room.
I also wrote 637 words of the blanketfic today! Whooo.
glovish freewrite
Jack has half of the glove on before he realizes it's not fitting like it normally does. He stares at it, completely stymied, and waggles the empty fingers.
Ianto comes up like he's on a moving sidewalk and joins Jack in staring at the glove. After a long moment he asks, "Would you like to take a few hours' rest, sir? Suzie is getting around much better this afternoon; I'm sure she can handle the crisis for a while."
"No, I'm fine," says Jack, and sighs deeply. "I just can't get my glove to go on."
"Ah," says Ianto. "Sir-" he cuts himself off, standing with the subservient precision, the faintly high-strung sense of I dare not that makes Jack want to bite the edge of Ianto's jaw every time.
"Did you want to say something?" Jack asks, dredging up an amused smile from somewhere because Ianto does amuse him, even exhausted like this. Ianto's tight-laced but he's got a skitter in his eyes that makes Jack think his libido might be rocket powered. Rockets are carefully regulated and need two keys to fire, and isn't that a diverting thought.
"Nothing, sir," Ianto says. "Only-"
One of these days Jack will bite the edge of Ianto's jaw. He vows this solemnly to himself.
Ianto gives Jack a very careful, almost apologetic glance. "That's Toshiko's glove," he says.
Jack blinks. "It is?" he asks, and sounds a little lost.
"Yes sir," says Ianto, and reaches out to carefully pry the glove from Jack's fingers. "I can see how you became confused, however. That purple is very fetching on you." He presses the glove carefully to his chest, coddling the distended leather. "Do you require anything?" he asks solicitously.
"Um, no," says Jack. He manages a rueful smile. "I think I'm going to go lie down for a while, though. Tell Suzie she's in charge."
"Very good, sir," says Ianto, and slips from the room.