full service and amenities ii: facilities management
title: full service and amenities ii: facilities management
author: phinnia
rating: PG
pairing: jack/ianto
spoilers: post 'exit wounds'. a sequel to full service and amenities.
disclaimer: a wandering minstrel i, a thing of shreds and patches. i own nothing.
author's note: i blame tallin for this, because he reminded me about Count Duckula. The rest was obvious. All torchwood fics are to be blamed on gizmometer because she enabled me and i love her for it.
The vacation was bound to be at least some trouble. It wouldn't have been them otherwise, and Ianto had to admit that any hotel that had a time-shifting laundrette was probably hiding a few other things as well.
He was rather hoping it wouldn't be one of these things. Ianto took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and dialled Jack's phone.
"Oh wow, are you going to ask me what I'm wearing?" He could hear Jack's laughter through his earpiece and through their room's open window down the breezeway. "Because I'm-"
"There's a Weevil at the candy machine."
"A wha-weevil? Like one of ours?"
"Yes, and I haven't proper shoes or my gun and the only thing even remotely like a blunt object is that hideous ashtray on a stand can you please-" Ianto's voice shuddered to a stop as something warm bumped into his shoulder, and he only managed to bite back a scream because he knew Jack by smell at this point. He leaned back a little, trying to calm himself, berating his nerves for the shock.
Jack's breath was warm in his ear. "Couldn't do anything about the shoes, but i did get this." He pressed the nylon holster into Ianto's hand.
"I've got to chase down a weevil in bloody flip-flops?"
"Sorry. I'm not dressed for it either." Jack looked down at the tartan pyjama pants that were half-hidden under his greatcoat. "Nothing for it."
"How are we going to do this?" Ianto hissed.
"We've done this a million times! You go -"
"No, we can't do it here. We have no connections, no cleaning equipment, nothing. We should at least try and lure it somewhere more deserted. There are families on this floor."
"I thought you said their children were little bastard devils straight from the deepest pits of hell because they stole your towels?" Jack almost sounded amused.
"Yes, but even devils deserve a decent holiday. Look, it's moving. Let's follow it, see if we can get it somewhere a little more low-traffic."
Jack shrugged, his eyes still bright in the low light. "Sounds good."
The Weevil was walking purposefully down the long hallway, turning towards the back stairs. Jack and Ianto followed it, leaving as much distance as they could between it and them without losing its trail. It was obviously heading towards the basement. Ianto let out a long, slow breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Maybe this could be quick and easy, and they could just -
Suddenly the Weevil turned.
"I know you're there, Mithhter Harknethhh." The words were slurred and obviously a strain, but it was definitely directed at them. "Mithhhter Jonethhhh."
"Oh yeah?" Jack must have been surprised, but he was doing a pretty good job of hiding it. "I guess if you know who we are and where we are, you probably know what we're going to do, don't you?"
"I thhuppothe you're going to thoot me but i wittthh you'd let me exthhhplain firthhhtt."
Ianto looked at Jack curiously, unsure whether he should move his gun or not. He decided 'not' was probably the safer bet.
"Go ahead." Jack replied, his gun and his stare unmoving.
"Thith ith my job."
This was unexpected. Ianto felt an almost hysterical laugh coming on and hid it in a cough. "You - what?"
"I clean the bathmentth and keep the theagullth from cauthhing too many problemth. Do maintenanth. That thort of thing." It pulled something - a string from around its neck - and held it out at arm's length.
Ianto craned his neck to look. "It's an identity badge. With its picture on, and everything."
"I justh tell anyone that askth that thith-" the Weevil gestured toward its face - "ith a war injury."
"You really think I'm going to buy this?" To the uneducated observer Jack was as cold and inflexible as ever, but Ianto was definitely not an uneducated observer.
"Remember the laundry." he hissed.
"Have you theen the laundry fathilities?" the weevil countered.
"Right." Jack lowered his gun - although very slowly - and started to back toward the stairwell again. "If I see anything - and I mean anything that looks like Weevil handiwork-"
"Underthood."
"I'll be right back down here." Jack started up the stairs again and turned sharply after a few feet. "Right back down here."
"Enjoy your vacathion, Mithhhter Harknethhh. Mithter Joneth."
"Thanks, we will." Ianto replied, half-automatically, and then moved as to correct himself - and then decided to let it stand.
"I really mean that." Jack shouted over Ianto's shoulder.
The weevil gave no reply, and when they looked back again, it had disappeared.
author: phinnia
rating: PG
pairing: jack/ianto
spoilers: post 'exit wounds'. a sequel to full service and amenities.
disclaimer: a wandering minstrel i, a thing of shreds and patches. i own nothing.
author's note: i blame tallin for this, because he reminded me about Count Duckula. The rest was obvious. All torchwood fics are to be blamed on gizmometer because she enabled me and i love her for it.
The vacation was bound to be at least some trouble. It wouldn't have been them otherwise, and Ianto had to admit that any hotel that had a time-shifting laundrette was probably hiding a few other things as well.
He was rather hoping it wouldn't be one of these things. Ianto took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and dialled Jack's phone.
"Oh wow, are you going to ask me what I'm wearing?" He could hear Jack's laughter through his earpiece and through their room's open window down the breezeway. "Because I'm-"
"There's a Weevil at the candy machine."
"A wha-weevil? Like one of ours?"
"Yes, and I haven't proper shoes or my gun and the only thing even remotely like a blunt object is that hideous ashtray on a stand can you please-" Ianto's voice shuddered to a stop as something warm bumped into his shoulder, and he only managed to bite back a scream because he knew Jack by smell at this point. He leaned back a little, trying to calm himself, berating his nerves for the shock.
Jack's breath was warm in his ear. "Couldn't do anything about the shoes, but i did get this." He pressed the nylon holster into Ianto's hand.
"I've got to chase down a weevil in bloody flip-flops?"
"Sorry. I'm not dressed for it either." Jack looked down at the tartan pyjama pants that were half-hidden under his greatcoat. "Nothing for it."
"How are we going to do this?" Ianto hissed.
"We've done this a million times! You go -"
"No, we can't do it here. We have no connections, no cleaning equipment, nothing. We should at least try and lure it somewhere more deserted. There are families on this floor."
"I thought you said their children were little bastard devils straight from the deepest pits of hell because they stole your towels?" Jack almost sounded amused.
"Yes, but even devils deserve a decent holiday. Look, it's moving. Let's follow it, see if we can get it somewhere a little more low-traffic."
Jack shrugged, his eyes still bright in the low light. "Sounds good."
The Weevil was walking purposefully down the long hallway, turning towards the back stairs. Jack and Ianto followed it, leaving as much distance as they could between it and them without losing its trail. It was obviously heading towards the basement. Ianto let out a long, slow breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Maybe this could be quick and easy, and they could just -
Suddenly the Weevil turned.
"I know you're there, Mithhter Harknethhh." The words were slurred and obviously a strain, but it was definitely directed at them. "Mithhhter Jonethhhh."
"Oh yeah?" Jack must have been surprised, but he was doing a pretty good job of hiding it. "I guess if you know who we are and where we are, you probably know what we're going to do, don't you?"
"I thhuppothe you're going to thoot me but i wittthh you'd let me exthhhplain firthhhtt."
Ianto looked at Jack curiously, unsure whether he should move his gun or not. He decided 'not' was probably the safer bet.
"Go ahead." Jack replied, his gun and his stare unmoving.
"Thith ith my job."
This was unexpected. Ianto felt an almost hysterical laugh coming on and hid it in a cough. "You - what?"
"I clean the bathmentth and keep the theagullth from cauthhing too many problemth. Do maintenanth. That thort of thing." It pulled something - a string from around its neck - and held it out at arm's length.
Ianto craned his neck to look. "It's an identity badge. With its picture on, and everything."
"I justh tell anyone that askth that thith-" the Weevil gestured toward its face - "ith a war injury."
"You really think I'm going to buy this?" To the uneducated observer Jack was as cold and inflexible as ever, but Ianto was definitely not an uneducated observer.
"Remember the laundry." he hissed.
"Have you theen the laundry fathilities?" the weevil countered.
"Right." Jack lowered his gun - although very slowly - and started to back toward the stairwell again. "If I see anything - and I mean anything that looks like Weevil handiwork-"
"Underthood."
"I'll be right back down here." Jack started up the stairs again and turned sharply after a few feet. "Right back down here."
"Enjoy your vacathion, Mithhhter Harknethhh. Mithter Joneth."
"Thanks, we will." Ianto replied, half-automatically, and then moved as to correct himself - and then decided to let it stand.
"I really mean that." Jack shouted over Ianto's shoulder.
The weevil gave no reply, and when they looked back again, it had disappeared.