[ficlet] whoniverse - wake-up call - ianto + others, gen
So, I've been having some trouble writing lately and just banged this out to attempt to get over my block. It's not really much of anything, but I thought I'd share since dremiel and kaydeefalls both seemed interested when I first mentioned it back in July.
***
Title: Wake-up Call
Fandom: Torchwood, Doctor Who (S5)
Characters: Ianto + others (canon pairings, gen)
Spoilers: All of Who S5 and some shit RTD said
Rating: Ianto's not wearing a shirt
Summary: Ianto points a gun at all sorts of people in his underwear. Jack does laundry. The path to the coffee machine is obstructed.
Notes: This isn't real fic. It's a ficlet. Thus the lack of crossposting and finesse. solsticezero pre-read, because I can't sneeze in the Whoniverse without going to her for validation.
Jack slept restlessly and needed slightly less than the average 21st century human, so Ianto was used to odd sounds in his flat at night: doors opening and closing, computers quietly dinging, the gentle hum of the television, the soft thump of cabinet doors. Jack was generally courteous in his movements, however; he tried to be as unobtrusive as possible to allow Ianto to sleep.
There were many reasons, then, why Ianto sat up immediately at attention when the sound began to emanate from his living room. No, sound wasn't right--that was noise. Terrible noise. Like someone trying to start a lawnmower covered in molasses. It was not the sort of noise that Ianto associated with Jack's late night wanderings and the bed next to him was empty and cold. He couldn't hear anything in the living room aside from the screeching, so he grabbed his boxers from the floor and his gun from the drawer in the bedside table and slid out into the living room as quietly as he could.
The door to Ianto's kitchen was open and there was a light shining from inside, an odd blue colored light that couldn't be attributed to the generic florescent bulbs that normally lit the space. Ianto crept silently across the living room towards it, his fingers flipping the safety off of his gun automatically when the door swung open and a young woman and two young men--one in a puffy blue gilet and the other in a tweed jacket and bowtie--walked curiously into his living room.
"Keep an eye on her," Bowtie said, pointing at Gilet. "He's a bit hard to control."
"Oi!" the woman said. "I can keep an eye on myself, thank you very much!"
"Keep an eye on her," Bowtie repeated, ignoring her.
Ianto leveled his gun at them. "Don't," he said, his voice not betraying his confusion, "take another step."
All three of them froze and turned to him in unison. Bowtie's eyes first focused on the gun with a frown, but when they traveled up to Ianto's face, he broke into a smile.
"Mr. Jones, isn't it?" he asked.
"I'm not telling you anything until you tell me what the bloody hell you're doing in my kitchen," Ianto said. Behind Bowtie, the other two raised their hands, looking far more concerned about Ianto's weapon.
"There's no need for guns, Mr. Jones," Bowtie said, frowning again. "Or, Ianto. Can I call you Ianto?" He leaned forward, squinting. "You're a bit younger than I remember. Have you always been this young?"
Ianto needed his phone or at least his comm. The strangers looked human enough, but the noise that preceded them and the instantaneous appearance in his kitchen suggested otherwise. Even if they were human, using a Torchwood line would be the quickest way to get the police to respond.
"Is that him?" the woman whispered. "You were right about him being fit."
Ianto did his level best to ignore her.
"Why are you here?" Ianto asked. "And what have you done with Jack?"
"You mean Jack's not here?" Bowtie asked. "I thought I had fixed that thing. Right. Well, Jack should be here. I latched onto the signal from his vortex manipulator when I saw the rift in Cardiff had been sealed and--"
"Wait," Ianto said, holding up the hand that wasn't wrapped around his gun. His head hurt. "What do you mean the rift has been sealed? Who the bloody fuck are you?"
Before Bowtie could answer, there was a tell-tale jingle of keys in the hallway. Bowtie, the woman, and Gilet all turned to the door. Ianto didn't have to. By this point in his life, he was deeply familiar with the sound of Jack Harkness lugging a laundry basket into the flat.
"Oh, hey, you're up," Jack said as the door swung open. "We ran out of--"
That, presumably, was when Jack saw their visitors and Ianto's gun. At least, that's what Ianto assumed from the way the laundry basket was dropped, followed the sound of Jack drawing his own weapon.
"He's domesticated you!" Bowtie said with obvious delight.
"Who the hell are you?" Jack asked.
"Although he's a bit younger than I thought," Bowtie continued, oblivious. "I mean, really, Jack, at your age. What are you, twenty-five?"
"Twenty-seven," Ianto said through gritted teeth, though he didn't quite know why he was bothering to answer.
"Are you--oh! Oh!" Jack re-holstered his weapon and crossed the room in three quick strides, throwing his arms around Bowtie and nearly lifting him off the ground. "I like the new look!" he said, holding Bowtie at arm's length and inspecting him. "Although, you're one to talk about Ianto being too young for me." He glanced significantly over Bowtie's shoulder, taking in the woman and Gilet with an appraising, flirty smile. "Captain Jack Harkness," he said to them.
"Pleasure," the woman said, smiling right back. Gilet glared. Ianto waved his gun a bit. He was overtired, confused, and becoming more irate as the situation spiraled further out of his control.
"Excuse me," he snapped, "if someone doesn't tell me what the bloody fuck is going on in the next ten seconds, I will start shooting." Jack glanced back at Ianto, as if suddenly remembering he was there. A smirk appeared on his face, but before he could open his mouth, Ianto added, "And don't think I won't start with you, Harkness."
"It's the Doctor," Jack said, holding up his hands placatingly. "Ianto, this is the Doctor and..."
"Amy Pond," the woman added.
"Williams," Gilet said significantly. "Amy Pond-Williams. And I'm Rory Williams."
"I told you, I don't mind being Mrs. Rory Williams, but Mrs. Amy Williams is just so...." Amy gestured vaguely. "Amy Pond, still, don't you think, Doctor?"
"There aren't many fairy tales written about Amy Williams, I would think," the Doctor agreed.
"The Doctor?" Ianto said, desperately trying to steer the conversation back on track.
"Yes, yes," the Doctor said. "Had a spot of trouble with an old friend and some radiation... anyway, new face, new friends, same Doctor."
"I like the bow tie," Jack said.
"I need a coffee," Ianto muttered, finally lowering his gun. What he really needed was a drink, but he had a feeling he was going to have to be more alert and not less in order to follow whatever conversation was about to start.
The Doctor glanced over his shoulder. "Er, I seem to have parked my time-space-ship in your kitchen."
Ianto covered his face with the hand not still clutching his gun.
"Also," Jack added, "Not that I don't love the look, but it's not really your usual style for guests."
Ianto very suddenly remembered that he was not wearing trousers. Or much of anything.
"I am going to put on trousers," he said, dropping his hands and glaring at the room at large. It was too early for this. "By the time I get back out here, if there is not a clear path from me to the coffee machine, I will start shooting."
He turned and marched back to the bedroom.
"Cute arse," Amy murmured quietly.
"I know, right?" Jack said.
Ianto sighed. It wasn't even light yet and he already knew it was going to be a long day.
***
In other news, today Becca and I cleaned ALL THE THINGS and then went grocery shopping, like motherfucking adults. Then we came home and looked Mark Gatiss up on Wikipedia and discovered that there is no way he is a real human being. He is clearly a robot. And I decided he is my rival. My rival for what, you might ask? Everything. It's like how Barrowman is my arch-nemesis, except Mark Gatiss is good at things and probably not evil and doesn't fuck pumpkins.
eta:
Kait: Oh man, I forgot to make a tag for Mark Gatiss!
Becca: I bet he already has a tag for you, because he's better than you at everything.
Also, Becca and I are collaborating on THE BEST COMIC EVER and it is hilarious.
Also also, we had a lengthy discussion about under what circumstances Matt Smith should be allowed to hold a baby.
It's been a full day here at Cardigan Central, guys! Tomorrow is Knitting for Boozehags, so I have to make a pie and get ready to socialize and stuff. CRAZY!
***
IN NANOWRIMO NEWS, my profile on the NaNo site is fourteenacross. Surprise surprise. Feel free to add me. I don't participate in the boards or anything, but I do like to obsessively refresh my "writing buddies" to track their progress vs. my own. ::shifty eyes::
***
Title: Wake-up Call
Fandom: Torchwood, Doctor Who (S5)
Characters: Ianto + others (canon pairings, gen)
Spoilers: All of Who S5 and some shit RTD said
Rating: Ianto's not wearing a shirt
Summary: Ianto points a gun at all sorts of people in his underwear. Jack does laundry. The path to the coffee machine is obstructed.
Notes: This isn't real fic. It's a ficlet. Thus the lack of crossposting and finesse. solsticezero pre-read, because I can't sneeze in the Whoniverse without going to her for validation.
Jack slept restlessly and needed slightly less than the average 21st century human, so Ianto was used to odd sounds in his flat at night: doors opening and closing, computers quietly dinging, the gentle hum of the television, the soft thump of cabinet doors. Jack was generally courteous in his movements, however; he tried to be as unobtrusive as possible to allow Ianto to sleep.
There were many reasons, then, why Ianto sat up immediately at attention when the sound began to emanate from his living room. No, sound wasn't right--that was noise. Terrible noise. Like someone trying to start a lawnmower covered in molasses. It was not the sort of noise that Ianto associated with Jack's late night wanderings and the bed next to him was empty and cold. He couldn't hear anything in the living room aside from the screeching, so he grabbed his boxers from the floor and his gun from the drawer in the bedside table and slid out into the living room as quietly as he could.
The door to Ianto's kitchen was open and there was a light shining from inside, an odd blue colored light that couldn't be attributed to the generic florescent bulbs that normally lit the space. Ianto crept silently across the living room towards it, his fingers flipping the safety off of his gun automatically when the door swung open and a young woman and two young men--one in a puffy blue gilet and the other in a tweed jacket and bowtie--walked curiously into his living room.
"Keep an eye on her," Bowtie said, pointing at Gilet. "He's a bit hard to control."
"Oi!" the woman said. "I can keep an eye on myself, thank you very much!"
"Keep an eye on her," Bowtie repeated, ignoring her.
Ianto leveled his gun at them. "Don't," he said, his voice not betraying his confusion, "take another step."
All three of them froze and turned to him in unison. Bowtie's eyes first focused on the gun with a frown, but when they traveled up to Ianto's face, he broke into a smile.
"Mr. Jones, isn't it?" he asked.
"I'm not telling you anything until you tell me what the bloody hell you're doing in my kitchen," Ianto said. Behind Bowtie, the other two raised their hands, looking far more concerned about Ianto's weapon.
"There's no need for guns, Mr. Jones," Bowtie said, frowning again. "Or, Ianto. Can I call you Ianto?" He leaned forward, squinting. "You're a bit younger than I remember. Have you always been this young?"
Ianto needed his phone or at least his comm. The strangers looked human enough, but the noise that preceded them and the instantaneous appearance in his kitchen suggested otherwise. Even if they were human, using a Torchwood line would be the quickest way to get the police to respond.
"Is that him?" the woman whispered. "You were right about him being fit."
Ianto did his level best to ignore her.
"Why are you here?" Ianto asked. "And what have you done with Jack?"
"You mean Jack's not here?" Bowtie asked. "I thought I had fixed that thing. Right. Well, Jack should be here. I latched onto the signal from his vortex manipulator when I saw the rift in Cardiff had been sealed and--"
"Wait," Ianto said, holding up the hand that wasn't wrapped around his gun. His head hurt. "What do you mean the rift has been sealed? Who the bloody fuck are you?"
Before Bowtie could answer, there was a tell-tale jingle of keys in the hallway. Bowtie, the woman, and Gilet all turned to the door. Ianto didn't have to. By this point in his life, he was deeply familiar with the sound of Jack Harkness lugging a laundry basket into the flat.
"Oh, hey, you're up," Jack said as the door swung open. "We ran out of--"
That, presumably, was when Jack saw their visitors and Ianto's gun. At least, that's what Ianto assumed from the way the laundry basket was dropped, followed the sound of Jack drawing his own weapon.
"He's domesticated you!" Bowtie said with obvious delight.
"Who the hell are you?" Jack asked.
"Although he's a bit younger than I thought," Bowtie continued, oblivious. "I mean, really, Jack, at your age. What are you, twenty-five?"
"Twenty-seven," Ianto said through gritted teeth, though he didn't quite know why he was bothering to answer.
"Are you--oh! Oh!" Jack re-holstered his weapon and crossed the room in three quick strides, throwing his arms around Bowtie and nearly lifting him off the ground. "I like the new look!" he said, holding Bowtie at arm's length and inspecting him. "Although, you're one to talk about Ianto being too young for me." He glanced significantly over Bowtie's shoulder, taking in the woman and Gilet with an appraising, flirty smile. "Captain Jack Harkness," he said to them.
"Pleasure," the woman said, smiling right back. Gilet glared. Ianto waved his gun a bit. He was overtired, confused, and becoming more irate as the situation spiraled further out of his control.
"Excuse me," he snapped, "if someone doesn't tell me what the bloody fuck is going on in the next ten seconds, I will start shooting." Jack glanced back at Ianto, as if suddenly remembering he was there. A smirk appeared on his face, but before he could open his mouth, Ianto added, "And don't think I won't start with you, Harkness."
"It's the Doctor," Jack said, holding up his hands placatingly. "Ianto, this is the Doctor and..."
"Amy Pond," the woman added.
"Williams," Gilet said significantly. "Amy Pond-Williams. And I'm Rory Williams."
"I told you, I don't mind being Mrs. Rory Williams, but Mrs. Amy Williams is just so...." Amy gestured vaguely. "Amy Pond, still, don't you think, Doctor?"
"There aren't many fairy tales written about Amy Williams, I would think," the Doctor agreed.
"The Doctor?" Ianto said, desperately trying to steer the conversation back on track.
"Yes, yes," the Doctor said. "Had a spot of trouble with an old friend and some radiation... anyway, new face, new friends, same Doctor."
"I like the bow tie," Jack said.
"I need a coffee," Ianto muttered, finally lowering his gun. What he really needed was a drink, but he had a feeling he was going to have to be more alert and not less in order to follow whatever conversation was about to start.
The Doctor glanced over his shoulder. "Er, I seem to have parked my time-space-ship in your kitchen."
Ianto covered his face with the hand not still clutching his gun.
"Also," Jack added, "Not that I don't love the look, but it's not really your usual style for guests."
Ianto very suddenly remembered that he was not wearing trousers. Or much of anything.
"I am going to put on trousers," he said, dropping his hands and glaring at the room at large. It was too early for this. "By the time I get back out here, if there is not a clear path from me to the coffee machine, I will start shooting."
He turned and marched back to the bedroom.
"Cute arse," Amy murmured quietly.
"I know, right?" Jack said.
Ianto sighed. It wasn't even light yet and he already knew it was going to be a long day.
***
In other news, today Becca and I cleaned ALL THE THINGS and then went grocery shopping, like motherfucking adults. Then we came home and looked Mark Gatiss up on Wikipedia and discovered that there is no way he is a real human being. He is clearly a robot. And I decided he is my rival. My rival for what, you might ask? Everything. It's like how Barrowman is my arch-nemesis, except Mark Gatiss is good at things and probably not evil and doesn't fuck pumpkins.
eta:
Kait: Oh man, I forgot to make a tag for Mark Gatiss!
Becca: I bet he already has a tag for you, because he's better than you at everything.
Also, Becca and I are collaborating on THE BEST COMIC EVER and it is hilarious.
Also also, we had a lengthy discussion about under what circumstances Matt Smith should be allowed to hold a baby.
It's been a full day here at Cardigan Central, guys! Tomorrow is Knitting for Boozehags, so I have to make a pie and get ready to socialize and stuff. CRAZY!
***
IN NANOWRIMO NEWS, my profile on the NaNo site is fourteenacross. Surprise surprise. Feel free to add me. I don't participate in the boards or anything, but I do like to obsessively refresh my "writing buddies" to track their progress vs. my own. ::shifty eyes::