Fic: Skittles
Title: Skittles
Rating: U
Spoilers: None?
Characters: Jack, Ianto
Word Count: 1,508
Summary: Just a silly thing, really. I've always seen Ianto as someone who gets a bit .. funny about his sweets.
Notes: I may have a slight obsession with having to sort my skittles before I eat them, (yeah, yeah, you can laugh later), and I always kinda saw Ianto as someone who would do it as well. Ideally set after Cyberwoman, seeing as Ianto probably wouldn't be sitting idly in the tourist office with youknowwho down in the basement. Beta =
supersonica
Ianto stood behind the tourist desk, his face a little less blank than usual; there may have even been a hint of a smile. Seeing as people rarely needed anything from the little information centre, he was mostly left to his own devices - between making coffee and retrieving files as requested - during the day, and he somewhat liked it that way. Having not long returned from the shop around the corner, a half read newspaper lay open on the desk. He fully intended on finishing reading it of course, but in between dull stories of an old woman's cat being rescued and the promotions of unknown businessmen, he'd become distracted by his little guilty pleasure.
And there they were; spread out on the desk in front of him, their bright colours contrasting with the grey of the surface and the black of his suit sleeves. He'd turned some music on when he'd come back; after much complaint from Owen, each computer had been installed with itunes, with each team member's personal music collection automatically updated, and he had the whole list on shuffle. Half of his brain was concentrating on the beat of the music, (he had to admit that Gwen's taste in music wasn't all that bad), and he was absent mindedly swaying his hips in time. The other half though, was focused on the task at hand. It didn't take him long to have them all organised by colour, separated into neat little piles on the desk. Once he was done, he then went back to reading his newspaper.
Every now and then, without looking away, he'd reach down, select a skittle and pop it into his mouth, vaguely attempting to see if he could guess the colour. He'd become engrossed in the problem pages (another of his guilty pleasures) and didn't hear the footsteps coming up the stairs. Jack stood in silence for a moment, then folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the doorframe. He watched the oblivious Ianto for a few minutes, still wiggling his hips and humming along to (and occasionally singing a few lines of) the music that was emanating from the computer. His mouth curved into a smile as he continued to watch the relaxed man before him, only to become more interested when he saw him reach for something below the desk. When he saw the little stash of sugary sweets hidden there, his smile became a grin.
"Ianto Jones!" he chuckled, making the other man jump. Jack moved around the room slightly, before coming to a stop with his hands on his hips, leant against a filing cabinet. Ianto stiffened, his shoulder muscles tightening visibly through his jacket. After what could only have been a second or two, he spun around wearing his ever emotionless face, except with a flash of fear in his eyes. He met Jack's gaze, and at the same time fumbled around behind him for the key to turn the music either down or off; he didn’t care which.
"Yes, sir?" He tried his best - and did a pretty damn good job of - keeping his voice level and calm. It was one thing that he'd let his boss manage to sneak up on him, but it was quite another for him to have found him dancing, singing, and eating sweets. There were a dozen different excuses running through his mind at a million miles an hour as he stared intently at the blue eyes that were piercing his. Jack merely stood there, his face plastered with a grin, folding his arms over his chest again. His gaze then shifted from Ianto's face to the hidden skittles, back to Ianto's face, before once again looking at the sweets. "Is there something you need help with, sir?" he emphasised the last word in attempt to move Jack's attentions away from his stash and back to whatever it was that had brought him to the tourist office in the first place.
"I never took you for a candy fan, Ianto," he took a step forward, Ianto countering it with a step backwards that only brought him up against the sharp edge of the desk. As Jack continued to approach, Ianto took a step sideways, grabbing onto the desk for stability. Jack was then able to see the organisation of said sweets. "Although that on the other hand," he inclined his head to the sweets before looking back to Ianto, who now looked a little less scared. "Makes sense. Only you would organise little pieces of brightly coloured sugar, intended to make kids hyper." He smirked at this, then pulled up the office stool and leant against it, shoving his hands into his trouser pockets. Before he could say anything else, Ianto managed to find his voice again.
"Actually," his voice was a few octaves higher than he would have liked. He cleared his throat before attempting it again. "Actually, sir, more people do it than you'd think." It was a lame line of defence, but it was all he could think of saying.
"Well," Jack moved to lean against the desk and picked up a red skittle, "You're the first person I've met that does it. Or, I've caught doing it," Ianto wasn't sure how it was possible, but Jack's grin actually grew. He ate the red skittle that was in his hand, and then proceeded to pick up one of each colour. "So," he rolled the little pieces of colour around in his palm, before throwing the green one into his open mouth. "This is what you do when you're in this little place all by yourself?" Then a yellow one. "Dance about and eat sweets. Hm." He seemed to be giving it some real thought. "Fair enough. Beats what I do," He shrugged and threw the rest of the skittles into his waiting mouth.
"Sir, if you're just going to scrutinise how I spend my time up here, I'm sure you've got better things to do." Ianto moved to close the paper, but as he leant over, the corner of his suit jacket knocked the neat little piles, sending them into semi-chaos. Discarding his mission to close the paper, he stared at the skittles for half a second before moving to reorganise them. Jack watched him swiftly moving the sweets into their pre-designated sections, his mind flooding with mischievous ideas.
"You really do like them organised, don't you, Yan," He mused, Ianto still sorting his sweets. Within a minute, they were once again in their neat little heaps, and Ianto went back to his task of putting away the newspaper, ignoring Jack's previous sentence. "Does that mean that if I were to do this," his hand hovered threateningly over the skittles, and Ianto could see the look of amusement on Jack's face.
"Sir, I'd really rather you di-" but before he finished, Jack made a fist in the skittles, mixing the colours and sending them entirely into chaos across the desk. He then, using both hands, swept all of the skittles back into one pile, an amalgamation of all of the colours. Just for good measure, he pedantically straightened the edges of the mound before he was satisfied and crossed his arms over his chest once again.
"Then it would ruin the little system you've got set up there?" Jack finished, his trademark grin still on his face. Ianto's mouth was hanging open, his face filled with a combination of shock and annoyance. He wasn’t sure which he wanted to do first; re-arrange the sweets again, or hit/shout at/discipline Jack in some way. Instead his mouth opened and closed a few times before composing himself once more.
"Sir, if that was meant to get a rise out of me, it'll have to take more than that, I can assure you." His voice was as calm as ever, his posture not giving away any of the annoyance that was running through his body.
"If you say so, Ianto," Jack half-chuckled. "The team and I would like some of your wonderful coffee, when you get a chance." And with that, he turned on his heel and left the office through the hidden door, laughing to himself. "I'm not looking now, Ianto. You can organise them all again now," he chuckled as he walked down the corridor. Little did he know that the second he had left the room, Ianto had begun doing just that.
Ianto grumbled to himself, using plenty of Welsh expletives, as he swept the sweets back into their bag (by colour, of course), turned off the computer, and put the paper into the wastepaper bin. He then made his way down into the hub and through to the kitchen to make the coffee. Jack would not get away with this lightly. He prepared three cups of fresh, hot coffee, and one cup of the cheap instant stuff. It almost pained him to use it, but after what Jack had just done (out of pure spite, no less) he thought it was only fair.
Fiiiiiiin (:
Rating: U
Spoilers: None?
Characters: Jack, Ianto
Word Count: 1,508
Summary: Just a silly thing, really. I've always seen Ianto as someone who gets a bit .. funny about his sweets.
Notes: I may have a slight obsession with having to sort my skittles before I eat them, (yeah, yeah, you can laugh later), and I always kinda saw Ianto as someone who would do it as well. Ideally set after Cyberwoman, seeing as Ianto probably wouldn't be sitting idly in the tourist office with youknowwho down in the basement. Beta =
supersonica
Ianto stood behind the tourist desk, his face a little less blank than usual; there may have even been a hint of a smile. Seeing as people rarely needed anything from the little information centre, he was mostly left to his own devices - between making coffee and retrieving files as requested - during the day, and he somewhat liked it that way. Having not long returned from the shop around the corner, a half read newspaper lay open on the desk. He fully intended on finishing reading it of course, but in between dull stories of an old woman's cat being rescued and the promotions of unknown businessmen, he'd become distracted by his little guilty pleasure.
And there they were; spread out on the desk in front of him, their bright colours contrasting with the grey of the surface and the black of his suit sleeves. He'd turned some music on when he'd come back; after much complaint from Owen, each computer had been installed with itunes, with each team member's personal music collection automatically updated, and he had the whole list on shuffle. Half of his brain was concentrating on the beat of the music, (he had to admit that Gwen's taste in music wasn't all that bad), and he was absent mindedly swaying his hips in time. The other half though, was focused on the task at hand. It didn't take him long to have them all organised by colour, separated into neat little piles on the desk. Once he was done, he then went back to reading his newspaper.
Every now and then, without looking away, he'd reach down, select a skittle and pop it into his mouth, vaguely attempting to see if he could guess the colour. He'd become engrossed in the problem pages (another of his guilty pleasures) and didn't hear the footsteps coming up the stairs. Jack stood in silence for a moment, then folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the doorframe. He watched the oblivious Ianto for a few minutes, still wiggling his hips and humming along to (and occasionally singing a few lines of) the music that was emanating from the computer. His mouth curved into a smile as he continued to watch the relaxed man before him, only to become more interested when he saw him reach for something below the desk. When he saw the little stash of sugary sweets hidden there, his smile became a grin.
"Ianto Jones!" he chuckled, making the other man jump. Jack moved around the room slightly, before coming to a stop with his hands on his hips, leant against a filing cabinet. Ianto stiffened, his shoulder muscles tightening visibly through his jacket. After what could only have been a second or two, he spun around wearing his ever emotionless face, except with a flash of fear in his eyes. He met Jack's gaze, and at the same time fumbled around behind him for the key to turn the music either down or off; he didn’t care which.
"Yes, sir?" He tried his best - and did a pretty damn good job of - keeping his voice level and calm. It was one thing that he'd let his boss manage to sneak up on him, but it was quite another for him to have found him dancing, singing, and eating sweets. There were a dozen different excuses running through his mind at a million miles an hour as he stared intently at the blue eyes that were piercing his. Jack merely stood there, his face plastered with a grin, folding his arms over his chest again. His gaze then shifted from Ianto's face to the hidden skittles, back to Ianto's face, before once again looking at the sweets. "Is there something you need help with, sir?" he emphasised the last word in attempt to move Jack's attentions away from his stash and back to whatever it was that had brought him to the tourist office in the first place.
"I never took you for a candy fan, Ianto," he took a step forward, Ianto countering it with a step backwards that only brought him up against the sharp edge of the desk. As Jack continued to approach, Ianto took a step sideways, grabbing onto the desk for stability. Jack was then able to see the organisation of said sweets. "Although that on the other hand," he inclined his head to the sweets before looking back to Ianto, who now looked a little less scared. "Makes sense. Only you would organise little pieces of brightly coloured sugar, intended to make kids hyper." He smirked at this, then pulled up the office stool and leant against it, shoving his hands into his trouser pockets. Before he could say anything else, Ianto managed to find his voice again.
"Actually," his voice was a few octaves higher than he would have liked. He cleared his throat before attempting it again. "Actually, sir, more people do it than you'd think." It was a lame line of defence, but it was all he could think of saying.
"Well," Jack moved to lean against the desk and picked up a red skittle, "You're the first person I've met that does it. Or, I've caught doing it," Ianto wasn't sure how it was possible, but Jack's grin actually grew. He ate the red skittle that was in his hand, and then proceeded to pick up one of each colour. "So," he rolled the little pieces of colour around in his palm, before throwing the green one into his open mouth. "This is what you do when you're in this little place all by yourself?" Then a yellow one. "Dance about and eat sweets. Hm." He seemed to be giving it some real thought. "Fair enough. Beats what I do," He shrugged and threw the rest of the skittles into his waiting mouth.
"Sir, if you're just going to scrutinise how I spend my time up here, I'm sure you've got better things to do." Ianto moved to close the paper, but as he leant over, the corner of his suit jacket knocked the neat little piles, sending them into semi-chaos. Discarding his mission to close the paper, he stared at the skittles for half a second before moving to reorganise them. Jack watched him swiftly moving the sweets into their pre-designated sections, his mind flooding with mischievous ideas.
"You really do like them organised, don't you, Yan," He mused, Ianto still sorting his sweets. Within a minute, they were once again in their neat little heaps, and Ianto went back to his task of putting away the newspaper, ignoring Jack's previous sentence. "Does that mean that if I were to do this," his hand hovered threateningly over the skittles, and Ianto could see the look of amusement on Jack's face.
"Sir, I'd really rather you di-" but before he finished, Jack made a fist in the skittles, mixing the colours and sending them entirely into chaos across the desk. He then, using both hands, swept all of the skittles back into one pile, an amalgamation of all of the colours. Just for good measure, he pedantically straightened the edges of the mound before he was satisfied and crossed his arms over his chest once again.
"Then it would ruin the little system you've got set up there?" Jack finished, his trademark grin still on his face. Ianto's mouth was hanging open, his face filled with a combination of shock and annoyance. He wasn’t sure which he wanted to do first; re-arrange the sweets again, or hit/shout at/discipline Jack in some way. Instead his mouth opened and closed a few times before composing himself once more.
"Sir, if that was meant to get a rise out of me, it'll have to take more than that, I can assure you." His voice was as calm as ever, his posture not giving away any of the annoyance that was running through his body.
"If you say so, Ianto," Jack half-chuckled. "The team and I would like some of your wonderful coffee, when you get a chance." And with that, he turned on his heel and left the office through the hidden door, laughing to himself. "I'm not looking now, Ianto. You can organise them all again now," he chuckled as he walked down the corridor. Little did he know that the second he had left the room, Ianto had begun doing just that.
Ianto grumbled to himself, using plenty of Welsh expletives, as he swept the sweets back into their bag (by colour, of course), turned off the computer, and put the paper into the wastepaper bin. He then made his way down into the hub and through to the kitchen to make the coffee. Jack would not get away with this lightly. He prepared three cups of fresh, hot coffee, and one cup of the cheap instant stuff. It almost pained him to use it, but after what Jack had just done (out of pure spite, no less) he thought it was only fair.
Fiiiiiiin (: