Writing Meme... Torchwood Ficlet
byslantedlight asked "Oh - Torchwood please (but not including the very last series where they went to America, cos that wasn't Torchwood... are we allowed to be picky?!)! Oops, forgot the prompt. Erm... fairy floss, Jack/Ianto at least in the background as a general thing, though doesn't have to be explicit. *g*"
Now this one is probably not very good, I was reminded when I pulled out a couple of episodes just how long it's been since I watched it and I've probably lost all grasp on the characters... but the idea just wouldn't go away :)
In His Own Sweet Time
They all were staring, and Jack couldn't blame them.
It was one thing to see him standing on the roof as they all knew he liked to. It was another to see him standing there talking to.... himself, and yet another to see him arguing with himself, lecturing and laughing at himself, being given the bag with its bright pastel contents by himself.
And quite another to see him kissing... himself.
To be fair, he'd been kissing a future himself, from somewhere - anywhere, he hadn't actually thought to ask - between his original 51st and the current 20th century. Sexy as hell in any case, if he did say so and he did, and tasting as sweet as spun sugar. He licked his lips again, watching as... the himself turned and walked away into the night, heading back to whatever part of his future he'd come from.
This would take a lot of explaining, especially that kiss, and yeah, especially to Ianto (though he couldn't be jealous, surely? Of Jack? Well.... if a Jack?) and the reason they'd even been visited by himself. Playing games with time was risky enough at the best of times, there had to be a damn good reason, and he had a feeling the one he'd been given wasn't exactly going to make the grade...
Still, the older himself had thought it mattered, and knew what Jack would do with the advice. He'd been the one to be standing here in his own past, listing to himself, after all.
Paradoxes were a hell of a thing.
He glanced across at his little team, all of which were still staring.
Gwen shook her head. "So, what was that about?"
"Just a bit of advice I thought I'd need."
"You thought... you mean he thought?"
"Well, he is me."
"We noticed." Her smile was thin and stripped the words of any warmth. "What sort of advice?"
Jack thought about being cryptic, just because he could... then shrugged. "About a choice I'll make very soon that will decide the future of humanity and the world as you know it, as I was just told by me."
"A choice." That was Owen, sarky bastard.
"Yes, whether to -"
"Kill someone?" Gwen again, not surprisingly.
"Kiss someone?" Tosh, very quietly.
"Shag someone - hell, more than one." Owen again.
Ianto didn't ask, at least not aloud.
"You all misunderstand me." Jack smiled as he unabashedly lied. They understood him rather too well at times.
"Then what? And what the fuck is it with that?" Owen's narrow, sour gaze laded on the bag Jack held open with one loose, swinging hand. "Fuck, is that -?"
"Yeah. Yeah, it is." Jack teased out a handful of pink and blue fluff with his bare hand, and looked at the threads sticking to his fingers. Candy floss from the future, good to know that some things would last for centuries even if tea didn't, not that he'd tell them about that. "And no, I didn't ask, and I sure as hell didn't tell why, but if we want to protect the future of - I did say it didn't I? - humanity and the world as you know it, it is vital that we go to the seaside some time soon. In our own sweet time, of course."
He bit into the spun sugar, watching them staring at him, and the smile he knew was too sweet already... got sweeter.
"Or," as he licked his fingers, daring them to say it as he did, "maybe it is vital that we don't. My choice."
***