I am finished. Oh yes.
The final drabbles for Owen/Ianto at alphabetdrabble (If you want to read the whole set in its entirety, it’s here). And that’s me done :D I love completing challenges.
001. Acumen (100)
[entangled_now has done body-swapping much better with Jack and Ianto, but I only had 100 words, so I refuse to feel bad about this drabble.]
They hide it pretty well for three days, but finally Owen fucks up the coffee enough for Jack to notice that the pretty Welshman wandering about in a suit is not actually Ianto.
Body-swapping. Oldest game in the book.
“Alien devices aren’t toys,” Jack points out.
“It was an accident,” Ianto mumbles, looking at Owen’s shoes.
“Did you think no one would notice?” Jack demands, watching Owen fiddle with Ianto’s cufflinks.
“We thought we could fix it,” Ianto says.
“But you couldn’t.”
“Can you?” Owen asks hopefully.
Jack smirks. They both still need punishment.
“Eventually,” he replies. “Maybe next week.”
011. Kismet (100)
[Written in permanent marker on the back of a Cambridge University prospectus, which is either slightly poetic, or just a symbol that I should have more paper around.]
Owen offers to take Ianto out for a drink because it’s been a stupidly traumatic few months and for once the world doesn’t seem to be trying to eat itself.
Besides, he hardly ever socialises with men anymore and Jack’s too fucking weird to count, so that leaves Ianto. Except that Owen had completely forgotten exactly how weirdly attractive Ianto becomes in normal, cufflink-free clothing, and notices this even more now Gwen’s not around getting herself shot; he winds up spending the evening staring at the open collar of Ianto’s black shirt, the pale skin beneath it - inevitably, embarrassingly distracted.
012. Loquacious (100)
Drunk on cheap wine and Chinese Takeaway, Team Torchwood are showing just how mature they are by playing “who was your last shag?” Jack informs them it was that tentacled alien they had in last month (with a worryingly plausible twinkle in his eye), Gwen mentions Rhys, Tosh blushes, saying she has a new girlfriend.
Ianto is not talkative, so Owen thinks he should get away with it.
“Ianto,” Gwen begins, “I’ll give you a fiver to tell us who the last person you shagged was.”
Owen shoots Ianto a pleading look, but the bastard smiles at Gwen.
“All right.”
013. Modicum (100)
[Contains implications of dying!Ianto, just to warn you.]
On the fourth day, Owen brings him a cup of coffee.
Ianto can’t stop shaking and he can’t feel his legs either.
“Things must be bad,” he says quietly, “If you’re making me coffee,” but Owen doesn’t reply, and Ianto begins to entertain the idea that he will actually die from this.
Jack is down in the cells, trying to beat an answer out of the aliens who infected Ianto, but Owen just sits there, silently admitting defeat.
Ianto drinks his coffee and doesn’t speak again. He reaches for Owen’s hand, though, and it’s impossible to say who’s trembling more.
020. Tryst (100)
[This is possibly my favourite drabble out of the whole 26. I like it even more than “Halcyon”]
Owen is leaving Torchwood and so his memories need removing.
He’s lying in bed, stripped to his boxers, a glass of retconned water in his hand.
“Drink up,” Ianto tells him quietly.
The sedative is sparkling in Owen’s eyes as he drains the glass and reaches for Ianto, pulling him onto the bed and into a dangerous kind of kiss.
“Always wanted to do this,” he murmurs.
This is bad.
This is very, very bad.
But Owen won’t remember this tomorrow and, Ianto realises, tasting retcon on Owen’s teeth, he probably won’t either.
Maybe it’s not so bad after all.
021. Utopia (100
He can see it all in the frown on Owen’s face, the anxiety in his trembling hands. A lot of days, Torchwood is Too Much To Handle, and the stress stays with Owen long after he leaves the Hub.
“In case it’s escaped your notice,” Ianto says, “I am stark naked here, and so are you, and this is a good thing.”
Owen looks doubtful, and Ianto pulls him closer.
“Let it go,” he whispers, “Just for a bit. Focus on the moment.”
For an hour or so, everything is [almost] perfect.
And then the real world crashes back in.
022. Votary (100)
“You have no reason to stay here,” Owen says, a week after Jack’s disappearance. His shoulder hurts more than usual and Ianto has been wandering about all morning looking vague and sad, in a pretty but irritating fashion. “Your cyber-girlfriend is dead. Torchwood One actually tried to kill you, as did the cannibals. And Jack’s not around any more. You don’t have to stay.”
Ianto looks at him with disdain in his eyes, and manages a bland smile.
“I’ve got nowhere else to go,” he replies. “Torchwood is everything that I have left.”
Owen knows. It’s the same with him.
023. Wan (100)
It should have been meaningless.
That was the whole point, Ianto catching his arm, bitterness in his voice: “fuck me ‘til I forget. You don’t care where you get it from, so get it from me.”
Owen would’ve been an idiot to refuse.
Ianto is skinnier, though, than he looks under those suits and his hands tremble where they clasp Owen’s shoulders, and Jack is gone and Lisa died and Diane could be anywhere and Owen’s shoulder isn’t even healed yet but he kisses Ianto anyway, deep and hard, and it should have been meaningless and it isn’t, it isn’t.
024. Xenophobia (100)
Owen hates the Welsh.
He hates their stupid accents, that send shivers down his spine.
He hates their ridiculously ironed suits, which should in no way be sexy, but are in an embarrassingly irresistible way.
He hates their bland smiles and snide, sarcastic comments, which always seem to be directed at him.
He hates that they can make perfect coffee when the rest of Torchwood can’t even get the fucking machine to turn on.
And he hates the way they’re sleeping with Jack, but won’t even look Owen in the eye.
[Or maybe he just hates one Welshman in particular.]
026. Zeitgeist (100)
“You’re kidding me.”
Ianto’s too-broad grin splits his face in an alarming way.
“I’m not.”
“But…” Owen is floundering and also quite drunk, “But… you’re so boring.”
“And you’re so charming,” Ianto snaps back.
“Ha ha.” Owen looks at him blearily. “So, why do you have a tattoo?”
“Uni,” Ianto explains, “Everyone was doing it. It’s what counts for entertainment in Aberystwyth.”
Owen frowns.
“Where is it?” he asks. Ianto flushes, leans over, and whispers in his ear. Owen chokes.
“Seriously?”
“Oh yes.” Ianto sits back and drains his pint glass. “Play your cards right, and I might show you.”
001. Acumen (100)
[entangled_now has done body-swapping much better with Jack and Ianto, but I only had 100 words, so I refuse to feel bad about this drabble.]
They hide it pretty well for three days, but finally Owen fucks up the coffee enough for Jack to notice that the pretty Welshman wandering about in a suit is not actually Ianto.
Body-swapping. Oldest game in the book.
“Alien devices aren’t toys,” Jack points out.
“It was an accident,” Ianto mumbles, looking at Owen’s shoes.
“Did you think no one would notice?” Jack demands, watching Owen fiddle with Ianto’s cufflinks.
“We thought we could fix it,” Ianto says.
“But you couldn’t.”
“Can you?” Owen asks hopefully.
Jack smirks. They both still need punishment.
“Eventually,” he replies. “Maybe next week.”
011. Kismet (100)
[Written in permanent marker on the back of a Cambridge University prospectus, which is either slightly poetic, or just a symbol that I should have more paper around.]
Owen offers to take Ianto out for a drink because it’s been a stupidly traumatic few months and for once the world doesn’t seem to be trying to eat itself.
Besides, he hardly ever socialises with men anymore and Jack’s too fucking weird to count, so that leaves Ianto. Except that Owen had completely forgotten exactly how weirdly attractive Ianto becomes in normal, cufflink-free clothing, and notices this even more now Gwen’s not around getting herself shot; he winds up spending the evening staring at the open collar of Ianto’s black shirt, the pale skin beneath it - inevitably, embarrassingly distracted.
012. Loquacious (100)
Drunk on cheap wine and Chinese Takeaway, Team Torchwood are showing just how mature they are by playing “who was your last shag?” Jack informs them it was that tentacled alien they had in last month (with a worryingly plausible twinkle in his eye), Gwen mentions Rhys, Tosh blushes, saying she has a new girlfriend.
Ianto is not talkative, so Owen thinks he should get away with it.
“Ianto,” Gwen begins, “I’ll give you a fiver to tell us who the last person you shagged was.”
Owen shoots Ianto a pleading look, but the bastard smiles at Gwen.
“All right.”
013. Modicum (100)
[Contains implications of dying!Ianto, just to warn you.]
On the fourth day, Owen brings him a cup of coffee.
Ianto can’t stop shaking and he can’t feel his legs either.
“Things must be bad,” he says quietly, “If you’re making me coffee,” but Owen doesn’t reply, and Ianto begins to entertain the idea that he will actually die from this.
Jack is down in the cells, trying to beat an answer out of the aliens who infected Ianto, but Owen just sits there, silently admitting defeat.
Ianto drinks his coffee and doesn’t speak again. He reaches for Owen’s hand, though, and it’s impossible to say who’s trembling more.
020. Tryst (100)
[This is possibly my favourite drabble out of the whole 26. I like it even more than “Halcyon”]
Owen is leaving Torchwood and so his memories need removing.
He’s lying in bed, stripped to his boxers, a glass of retconned water in his hand.
“Drink up,” Ianto tells him quietly.
The sedative is sparkling in Owen’s eyes as he drains the glass and reaches for Ianto, pulling him onto the bed and into a dangerous kind of kiss.
“Always wanted to do this,” he murmurs.
This is bad.
This is very, very bad.
But Owen won’t remember this tomorrow and, Ianto realises, tasting retcon on Owen’s teeth, he probably won’t either.
Maybe it’s not so bad after all.
021. Utopia (100
He can see it all in the frown on Owen’s face, the anxiety in his trembling hands. A lot of days, Torchwood is Too Much To Handle, and the stress stays with Owen long after he leaves the Hub.
“In case it’s escaped your notice,” Ianto says, “I am stark naked here, and so are you, and this is a good thing.”
Owen looks doubtful, and Ianto pulls him closer.
“Let it go,” he whispers, “Just for a bit. Focus on the moment.”
For an hour or so, everything is [almost] perfect.
And then the real world crashes back in.
022. Votary (100)
“You have no reason to stay here,” Owen says, a week after Jack’s disappearance. His shoulder hurts more than usual and Ianto has been wandering about all morning looking vague and sad, in a pretty but irritating fashion. “Your cyber-girlfriend is dead. Torchwood One actually tried to kill you, as did the cannibals. And Jack’s not around any more. You don’t have to stay.”
Ianto looks at him with disdain in his eyes, and manages a bland smile.
“I’ve got nowhere else to go,” he replies. “Torchwood is everything that I have left.”
Owen knows. It’s the same with him.
023. Wan (100)
It should have been meaningless.
That was the whole point, Ianto catching his arm, bitterness in his voice: “fuck me ‘til I forget. You don’t care where you get it from, so get it from me.”
Owen would’ve been an idiot to refuse.
Ianto is skinnier, though, than he looks under those suits and his hands tremble where they clasp Owen’s shoulders, and Jack is gone and Lisa died and Diane could be anywhere and Owen’s shoulder isn’t even healed yet but he kisses Ianto anyway, deep and hard, and it should have been meaningless and it isn’t, it isn’t.
024. Xenophobia (100)
Owen hates the Welsh.
He hates their stupid accents, that send shivers down his spine.
He hates their ridiculously ironed suits, which should in no way be sexy, but are in an embarrassingly irresistible way.
He hates their bland smiles and snide, sarcastic comments, which always seem to be directed at him.
He hates that they can make perfect coffee when the rest of Torchwood can’t even get the fucking machine to turn on.
And he hates the way they’re sleeping with Jack, but won’t even look Owen in the eye.
[Or maybe he just hates one Welshman in particular.]
026. Zeitgeist (100)
“You’re kidding me.”
Ianto’s too-broad grin splits his face in an alarming way.
“I’m not.”
“But…” Owen is floundering and also quite drunk, “But… you’re so boring.”
“And you’re so charming,” Ianto snaps back.
“Ha ha.” Owen looks at him blearily. “So, why do you have a tattoo?”
“Uni,” Ianto explains, “Everyone was doing it. It’s what counts for entertainment in Aberystwyth.”
Owen frowns.
“Where is it?” he asks. Ianto flushes, leans over, and whispers in his ear. Owen chokes.
“Seriously?”
“Oh yes.” Ianto sits back and drains his pint glass. “Play your cards right, and I might show you.”