Genre Drabbles, Round 8 (slightly overdue)
All right then. anoncomment7 wanted Jack/Ianto, and a full two weeks later I deliver. >_< Promptness!fail. BUT THEY'RE HERE AT LONG LAST! (Um, it's possible that some of my own problems with this relationship may have bled through a little bit.)
Adventure
“Well?” They’re all but pressed together in the narrow crawlspace, and Ianto is already finding the smell of Jack’s aftershave distracting. “What do you think of your first field mission so far?”
Ianto scrambles for some sort of intelligent reply, but all that comes to mind is, “I think I’m rather overdressed.”
A laugh, and then Jack’s lips brushing his ear as he whispers, “Funny, I was thinking the same thing.”
The trapdoor swings open suddenly, and a dozen alien weapons are pointed their way.
“Ah . . .” Ianto can feel Jack’s crooked smile, damn it. “This isn’t what it looks like?”
Angst
The thing that bothers him most, he finds, is that he doesn’t have any pictures.
There had been dozens of snapshots, and there’s one in particular that he remembers. Gwen had taken it, and he’d smiled every time he saw it. How serious the boy-really still just a boy-looked, preparing their coffee.
It’s gone now. They all are, blown to bits and the ashes scattered.
So all he has is a grainy, creased newspaper photo from his obituary. He carries it with him, looks at it every day or two.
He promised, after all, that he wouldn’t forget.
Drama
“Sometimes I hate him.”
Ianto looks up, surprised. The words are unexpectedly vitriolic, coming from Tosh. “Why?”
“For how he treats you.” She hesitates, her eyes uncertain. “I don’t want to hurt you, but . . . how can you stand it? All his attention goes to her whenever she comes in the room.” She glares up at the office. “You deserve better.”
“Maybe I do.” Ianto doesn’t look over his shoulder, doesn’t look up at the two of them laughing through the window. Doesn’t see how close they stand, how often they touch.
Instead, he pours the coffee.
“But I can wait.”
Fantasy
They’re halfway through the dance before it hits him. The wine they had with dinner and the way Jack’s arm is wrapped around his waist. The soft lights of the restaurant, the gentle music.
They’re dancing together in public, and Jack’s eyes are only for him.
“This isn’t real,” he says.
“It can be,” Jack whispers. “It can be as real as you want.”
“This isn’t real,” Ianto repeats, but pulls Jack closer anyway. He knows he has to find his way out, fight free of whatever this is. And he will.
Just as soon as this song is over.
Friendship
Ianto drops the heavy package onto Jack’s desk, where it lands with a loud clang. Must be something metal. Jack squeezes his eyes closed and clutches at his head with a groan.
“Hate you,” he grinds out.
Ianto crosses his arms and tries to look stern. “Tequila again?”
“Paravampire. Got me a sweet love hangover.” He paused. “Plus aftereffects from the neurotoxins she secreted through her skin.”
“I don’t know that you really deserve this, but . . .” Ianto sets a cup of coffee in front of his boss. “Here.”
Jack smiles then, and Ianto is laughing when he heads back downstairs.
Horror
He doesn’t know how to tell them. He’ll have to eventually, of course. Once he starts to show.
It’s Jack’s; it has to be, he’s the only one that Ianto’s ever . . . although the baby inside him is impossible, it’s Jack’s, and that makes it precious. His child. Their child.
The cravings are worse than ever, but he’s dealing with them. He’s not going to give in. He can fight it, still, he doesn’t have to-
“Ow!”
Gwen drops her scissors, and several fat drops of blood splash onto the table. Ianto can’t look away, and it smells . . . it smells . . .
Delicious.
Humor
“This is going to be a dry-cleaning nightmare,” Ianto mutters as he lowers himself into the sewer tunnel. Beside him he can hear a deep chuckle; the sound makes every inch of his skin tingle pleasantly.
“It’s your own fault for always insisting on wearing a suit.” Jack’s eyes are just visible in the darkness, doing a slow, appreciative sweep over his body. “I know you have other clothes; I’ve seen them.”
“This is . . . more professional.” And had nothing to do with the way Jack looked at him when he wore them. Hungry and wicked.
Well.
Maybe just a little.
Hurt/Comfort
“It must be hard for you.”
“I’d say so,” Jack chuckles as he presses himself against Ianto’s back, enjoying the way the younger man’s breath catches. So he’s surprised when Ianto moves away to fill the kettle.
“I mean . . . relationships. Knowing it can’t last. Not forever; not for you.”
“It . . . yeah.” All at once Jack is too tired for deflections, too weary for wit. “It’s always hard.” He steps forward, and his embrace this time isn’t meant to arouse. He just wants a moment of comfort. He wants to feel this man in his arms. “But sometimes it’s worth it.”
Mystery
“Where is he?”
James chuckles despite the hand that’s choking off his air supply. “That would be telling.” Jack slams the other man’s head against the wall again and earns a glare. “Ow.”
“It’s gonna get a lot worse if you don’t tell me what the hell you did with him,” Jack snarls.
“Don’t be such a baby. I’ve just sent him on a little trip is all. Maybe he’ll bring you a t-shirt when he gets back. If he gets back.”
“Where?”
“Question isn’t where, mate. It’s when.” He grins. “Think he’ll work out how to use the watch?”
Parody
“Jack, would you sit down?” Gwen looks serious. “We have something we need to tell you.”
“All right,” he says slowly, sinking down onto a stool. This ought to be good.
“Right. Well, we’ve decided . . .”
“We’ve had it,” Ianto takes over when she trails off. “You stringing both of us on; it’s not right.”
“So we’ve decided to elope.”
Jack’s jaw drops. “You . . .”
“We’re taking a week’s leave. Here’s the paperwork.” Gwen drops the papers on his desk and smiles warmly up at Ianto. “Ready, dear?”
“Always, darling.”
It’s a full hour before Jack manages to make a single sound.
Romance
He’d had somewhat grander plans for their first date. A quiet meal at a nice restaurant. A walk near the castle. A kiss that’s not inspired by near-death or post-death or quasi-death experiences.
What they have is questionable takeaway in his office, and the bottle of wine he had stashed in his desk drunk out of paper cups. But the kiss is as soft and careful as he’d planned, and as Jack realizes that he might actually be falling for the boy, he smiles.
He’ll take his time with this one. It is, after all, something he has in abundance.
Suspense
He’s hurt, but he ignores it. He’ll heal, the way he always done. For now he has more important things to think about.
The body is perfect. Self-renewing plastic over a skeleton of beryllium-titanium alloy; virtually indestructable.
Virtually immortal.
He has the coding all ready and waiting, an entire personality, a memory history mapped into a binary sequence. It’s taken him nearly fifty years to piece the whole thing together. In comparison, the ten months he’s spent planning to steal the body is nothing.
The download is nearly finished. Any minute now those blue eyes will open.
Any minute now . . .
THE RULES HAVE CHANGED! SRS BSNS LARGE BOLD RED FONT!
As per usual, first to comment gets to pick the fandom/pairing. Your choices:
- Star Trek: Kirk/Spock, McCoy/Chekov, Uhura/Chapel (please specify preference re: TOS, Reboot, and/or Mirrorverse)
- Supernatural: Sam/Dean (PLEASE NOTE that I have never actually sat down and written anything for this fandom, and I'm way behind having only seen through the first few episodes of Season 4. But it sounds like fun, so what the hell.)
- RPS: Pine/Quinto (please see above, but replace "I'm way behind" with "I know nothing about these two but what I've read in fanfic.)
- Sherlock Holmes: Holmes/Watson
- Doctor Who: Doctor/Rose
- Torchwood: Jack Ianto (I've written one thing for this pairing, but hey, it's Torchwood. Can't be too terribly hard. Right?)
- Crossover crackiness: Kaylee/Scotty (IDEK. Blame the_deep_magic .)