MOAR flowerpreg! (...Why the hell am I writing this crap? XD)
Ok, this chapter officially broke my brain. Y HELO THAR EXPOSITION. Although I did enjoy writing all the dialogue. I think Owen is trying to take over the fic. Dammit, Owen, first your awesomeness in S2, and now this? You're making it very hard for me to hate you, and if I don't hate you, the universe will implode!
Title: Still no idea. At this rate it'll probably just be called 'Flowerpreg'. [2/?]
Fandom: Torchwood, Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy
Pairings: Jack/Ianto, Jack/Petunia, implied Owen/Morris
Rating: Not much beyond PG for this chapter - nothing explicit (and no profanity unless you speak Welsh). But disturbing on principle. C for CRACK
Warnings: No real spoilers (set sometime in S1, but nothing referenced specifically). However... Crack crack crackity crack! Flowerpreg. References to mpreg. Implied bestiality. Mockery of all characters (except possibly Tosh, who ended up being the only sane person in this entire fic, 'cos I am a hopeless fangirl and cannot help being biased). Probably OOC-ness. NOT SAFE FOR BRAIN.
Disclaimer: If I owned TW and H2G2, this would totally be canon and a band of rabid Jack/Ianto fangirls would hunt me down with pitchforks for ruining their favourite ship.
Notes: Douglas Adams? Can you hear me up there? I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. The rest of you? Not so sorry. You spawned this nonsense. XD
Chapter One, in which a whale crash lands in Wales and Jack seduces a plant
On the whole, the team took the news that Jack’s latest sexual partner was a bowl of petunias pretty well. Toshiko muttered that she didn’t really care as long as they stopped doing it on her desk; Gwen looked slightly affronted but then swooned and declared that Jack was ‘so brave for challenging social norms and paving the way to a better future’; and Owen began to make a sarcastic comment but stopped and instead took on a slightly lovestruck expression when his eyes met the sperm whale currently splashing about in the swimming pool they’d hastily erected in a large unused storage room in the Hub.
Only Ianto seemed particularly upset by Jack’s revelation. He had bitten his lip, eyes watering, and stormed out of the Hub without another word. Jack’s desperate calls of “Pookie! Come back! I’m sorry, my woobie! I love you too!” landed on deaf ears.
“Oh, screw him,” declared Owen, clapping the distraught Jack on the shoulder, “if he can’t accept it, that’s his problem. After all, you can’t help who you fall in love with. Love isn’t rational, or confined to one’s own species.”
Jack looked at him in surprise, not only shocked that Owen had just echoed Jack’s own views on love (or, more accurately, sex), which was impressive for a 21st Century guy, but that he had expressed said views so eloquently, with correct grammar. Things became even more puzzling when Owen produced a snorkel and retreated to the swimming pool, proclaiming that he would ‘be back in a bit’.
“He probably needs to do a medical check on the whale,” explained Gwen, rather unnecessarily. “We can’t exactly bring a vet to our secret base, and I dunno about you, but I don’t really want to strap it to the top of the SUV again. I put my back out last time. I’m still having physio. Rhys recommended this guy he found when he hurt his hip, honestly, works wonders…”
But Jack wasn’t listening. He had swept Petunia up in his arms and retreated to his bedroom, leaving Gwen talking to the coffee maker than Ianto had abandoned.
Unfortunately, Jack’s second revelation, several weeks later, didn’t go quite so well.
He looked around the boardroom at the four stunned, blinking faces.
“So? Come on guys, what do you think?”
Owen eventually broke the silence.
“So… what you’re saying is… you got your bowl of petunias up the duff?”
“Yes! Exactly!” grinned Jack, thrilled that someone seemed to finally be catching on. He’d been trying to explain the concept for the past hour.
His initial joyful proclamation of “I’m going to be a father!” had been met not with the expected congratulations, but first with accusatory stares at Gwen, then Toshiko, then Ianto (much to his bafflement), and finally toward his own midsection.
“No, no, guys, I’m not pregnant! Not this time, thank the gods. No, Petunia! Petunia’s pregnant! It’s great, huh?”
“Um, Jack?!” ventured Tosh, as cautiously as possible, “Jack, it’s a plant. I hate to break it to you, but I don’t think you're the reason it's growing seeds-”
“No, no, Petunia’s pregnant!” repeated Jack, flapping his arms in frustration, “I mean, Petunia’s not exactly like the plants you guys are used to in this century - fell through the rift from god-knows-where, there are bound to be some differences. And don’t call Petunia ‘it’.”
An hour or so later, having eventually convinced his incredulous team that this was not some elaborate, rather bizarre joke, he was bombarded with questions.
“So, how do you know that your, er, girlfriend-“
“Petunia’s not a girl!” interjected Jack, looking highly offended, “Petunia’s a plant! Plants contain both ‘male’ and ‘female’ reproductive systems, meaning your society’s archaic concepts of gender are inapplicable. Honestly Tosh, you’re a smart woman, you should know this. Hello, 21st Century here! You guys should be more open-minded!”
“Ok, sorry, um, how do you know that your plantfriend is pregnant?” Tosh winced, worried she’d said the wrong thing again, but to her great relief Jack face broke into a smile as all his initial joy and pride came flooding back. “Is there a special test, or…?”
“Bog-standard home pregnancy test, stuck it in the soil. Measured the hCG levels.”
“Why?” asked Gwen, speaking up for the first time since Jack’s announcement, “I mean, what made you do the test? Were you guys trying…?”
“Nah, this was an accident. Good accident, though. No, Petunia’s been sick for a while, I finally realised it might be morning sickness, and I guess I was right. Well, ‘course I was. I’m always right,” he beamed, smile now almost reaching his ears.
“And how, pray tell, does a bowl of petunias get morning sickness? …No, never mind, I don’t think I want to know,” added Owen hastily, as Jack began to gesture emphatically, “I’ll just sit here and pretend I’m watching a bad sci-fi movie and this is all the crazy plot.”
“You catch aliens for a secret organisation defending the Earth,” Tosh pointed out, but nobody was listening.
“When is she-” Owen received a glare from Jack and hurried to correct himself, “he-” the glare morphed into a scowl, “it- wait, no, Jack, I’m sorry, don’t hit me, I didn’t mean ‘it’, I mean… I mean…”
“Petunia!” yelled Jack, positively red in the face, “forget your offensive little pronouns, just call Petunia Petunia!”
“Sorry, sorry! When is Petunia, erm, due?”
“This is week three, so… nine weeks from now. I’ll mark it on the calendar!” Jack practically bounced with excitement, anger completely forgotten.
“Why is he having the mood swings?” muttered Tosh, but she was ignored again.
“So you’re really going to do this?” asked Gwen, looking intently at Jack, who, in turn, seemed somewhat hurt by this question.
“Of course I am! You really think I’d abandon my beloved Petunia at a time like this? This is all so magical! It’s a gift! I cannot wait to meet my children!”
Gwen swooned.
“Oh, Jack, you’re so brave, going through with all this in such a cruel world…” She gazed up at him with a doe-eyed expression and twisted a strand of hair between her fingers.
Owen groaned and put his head in his hands. Tosh patted him on the back.
Ianto said nothing.
Jack only grinned more.
“That’s it, I need vodka,” announced Owen, rising from his seat. “Actually, on second thought, I should go check on Morris. He's probably getting bored...”
“Morris?” Jack questioned, finally snapping out of his reverie.
“Yeah, the whale,” Owen explained, as if speaking to a group of pre-schoolers (which, at times, he may as well have been), “had to call him something, didn’t I? Hey, it’s better than you and your ‘Petunia’. Such a creative name for a bunch of petunias, that. What would you have called the whale? ‘Sperm’?”
“Oi, Sperm is a perfectly good name!” protested Jack, but Owen was already leaving.
“At least we can use pronouns for Morris!” he yelled as he stomped out in a huff.
Jack’s lip quivered.
Gwen, Toshiko and Ianto all held their breath, waiting for the inevitable meltdown, but Jack simply sniffled. Tosh was first to break the awkward silence.
“Well, I should go run some figures. I keep finding more functions of tan in the rift equations. Slightly worried about what’ll happen if the variables ever reach ninety degrees…” She scurried off, ignoring the blank looks from her colleagues.
“Yeah, I should go too,” added Gwen, following Tosh out of the door, “I promised Rhys I’d be home for Strictly Come Dancing tonight, he’s making couscous…”
This left Jack and Ianto alone together. There was another long, awkward silence. Jack shifted in his seat, waiting for Ianto to say something. Anything.
“Look, Ianto,” he ventured after several minutes of brooding, “I never-”
But he never finished.
“Y cedor lama!” exclaimed Ianto angrily, and before Jack could say another word, he stormed out of the boardroom and slammed the door loudly behind him, leaving Jack with nothing for company but a plain, pale blue mug containing dregs of cold coffee.
Title: Still no idea. At this rate it'll probably just be called 'Flowerpreg'. [2/?]
Fandom: Torchwood, Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy
Pairings: Jack/Ianto, Jack/Petunia, implied Owen/Morris
Rating: Not much beyond PG for this chapter - nothing explicit (and no profanity unless you speak Welsh). But disturbing on principle. C for CRACK
Warnings: No real spoilers (set sometime in S1, but nothing referenced specifically). However... Crack crack crackity crack! Flowerpreg. References to mpreg. Implied bestiality. Mockery of all characters (except possibly Tosh, who ended up being the only sane person in this entire fic, 'cos I am a hopeless fangirl and cannot help being biased). Probably OOC-ness. NOT SAFE FOR BRAIN.
Disclaimer: If I owned TW and H2G2, this would totally be canon and a band of rabid Jack/Ianto fangirls would hunt me down with pitchforks for ruining their favourite ship.
Notes: Douglas Adams? Can you hear me up there? I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. The rest of you? Not so sorry. You spawned this nonsense. XD
Chapter One, in which a whale crash lands in Wales and Jack seduces a plant
On the whole, the team took the news that Jack’s latest sexual partner was a bowl of petunias pretty well. Toshiko muttered that she didn’t really care as long as they stopped doing it on her desk; Gwen looked slightly affronted but then swooned and declared that Jack was ‘so brave for challenging social norms and paving the way to a better future’; and Owen began to make a sarcastic comment but stopped and instead took on a slightly lovestruck expression when his eyes met the sperm whale currently splashing about in the swimming pool they’d hastily erected in a large unused storage room in the Hub.
Only Ianto seemed particularly upset by Jack’s revelation. He had bitten his lip, eyes watering, and stormed out of the Hub without another word. Jack’s desperate calls of “Pookie! Come back! I’m sorry, my woobie! I love you too!” landed on deaf ears.
“Oh, screw him,” declared Owen, clapping the distraught Jack on the shoulder, “if he can’t accept it, that’s his problem. After all, you can’t help who you fall in love with. Love isn’t rational, or confined to one’s own species.”
Jack looked at him in surprise, not only shocked that Owen had just echoed Jack’s own views on love (or, more accurately, sex), which was impressive for a 21st Century guy, but that he had expressed said views so eloquently, with correct grammar. Things became even more puzzling when Owen produced a snorkel and retreated to the swimming pool, proclaiming that he would ‘be back in a bit’.
“He probably needs to do a medical check on the whale,” explained Gwen, rather unnecessarily. “We can’t exactly bring a vet to our secret base, and I dunno about you, but I don’t really want to strap it to the top of the SUV again. I put my back out last time. I’m still having physio. Rhys recommended this guy he found when he hurt his hip, honestly, works wonders…”
But Jack wasn’t listening. He had swept Petunia up in his arms and retreated to his bedroom, leaving Gwen talking to the coffee maker than Ianto had abandoned.
Unfortunately, Jack’s second revelation, several weeks later, didn’t go quite so well.
He looked around the boardroom at the four stunned, blinking faces.
“So? Come on guys, what do you think?”
Owen eventually broke the silence.
“So… what you’re saying is… you got your bowl of petunias up the duff?”
“Yes! Exactly!” grinned Jack, thrilled that someone seemed to finally be catching on. He’d been trying to explain the concept for the past hour.
His initial joyful proclamation of “I’m going to be a father!” had been met not with the expected congratulations, but first with accusatory stares at Gwen, then Toshiko, then Ianto (much to his bafflement), and finally toward his own midsection.
“No, no, guys, I’m not pregnant! Not this time, thank the gods. No, Petunia! Petunia’s pregnant! It’s great, huh?”
“Um, Jack?!” ventured Tosh, as cautiously as possible, “Jack, it’s a plant. I hate to break it to you, but I don’t think you're the reason it's growing seeds-”
“No, no, Petunia’s pregnant!” repeated Jack, flapping his arms in frustration, “I mean, Petunia’s not exactly like the plants you guys are used to in this century - fell through the rift from god-knows-where, there are bound to be some differences. And don’t call Petunia ‘it’.”
An hour or so later, having eventually convinced his incredulous team that this was not some elaborate, rather bizarre joke, he was bombarded with questions.
“So, how do you know that your, er, girlfriend-“
“Petunia’s not a girl!” interjected Jack, looking highly offended, “Petunia’s a plant! Plants contain both ‘male’ and ‘female’ reproductive systems, meaning your society’s archaic concepts of gender are inapplicable. Honestly Tosh, you’re a smart woman, you should know this. Hello, 21st Century here! You guys should be more open-minded!”
“Ok, sorry, um, how do you know that your plantfriend is pregnant?” Tosh winced, worried she’d said the wrong thing again, but to her great relief Jack face broke into a smile as all his initial joy and pride came flooding back. “Is there a special test, or…?”
“Bog-standard home pregnancy test, stuck it in the soil. Measured the hCG levels.”
“Why?” asked Gwen, speaking up for the first time since Jack’s announcement, “I mean, what made you do the test? Were you guys trying…?”
“Nah, this was an accident. Good accident, though. No, Petunia’s been sick for a while, I finally realised it might be morning sickness, and I guess I was right. Well, ‘course I was. I’m always right,” he beamed, smile now almost reaching his ears.
“And how, pray tell, does a bowl of petunias get morning sickness? …No, never mind, I don’t think I want to know,” added Owen hastily, as Jack began to gesture emphatically, “I’ll just sit here and pretend I’m watching a bad sci-fi movie and this is all the crazy plot.”
“You catch aliens for a secret organisation defending the Earth,” Tosh pointed out, but nobody was listening.
“When is she-” Owen received a glare from Jack and hurried to correct himself, “he-” the glare morphed into a scowl, “it- wait, no, Jack, I’m sorry, don’t hit me, I didn’t mean ‘it’, I mean… I mean…”
“Petunia!” yelled Jack, positively red in the face, “forget your offensive little pronouns, just call Petunia Petunia!”
“Sorry, sorry! When is Petunia, erm, due?”
“This is week three, so… nine weeks from now. I’ll mark it on the calendar!” Jack practically bounced with excitement, anger completely forgotten.
“Why is he having the mood swings?” muttered Tosh, but she was ignored again.
“So you’re really going to do this?” asked Gwen, looking intently at Jack, who, in turn, seemed somewhat hurt by this question.
“Of course I am! You really think I’d abandon my beloved Petunia at a time like this? This is all so magical! It’s a gift! I cannot wait to meet my children!”
Gwen swooned.
“Oh, Jack, you’re so brave, going through with all this in such a cruel world…” She gazed up at him with a doe-eyed expression and twisted a strand of hair between her fingers.
Owen groaned and put his head in his hands. Tosh patted him on the back.
Ianto said nothing.
Jack only grinned more.
“That’s it, I need vodka,” announced Owen, rising from his seat. “Actually, on second thought, I should go check on Morris. He's probably getting bored...”
“Morris?” Jack questioned, finally snapping out of his reverie.
“Yeah, the whale,” Owen explained, as if speaking to a group of pre-schoolers (which, at times, he may as well have been), “had to call him something, didn’t I? Hey, it’s better than you and your ‘Petunia’. Such a creative name for a bunch of petunias, that. What would you have called the whale? ‘Sperm’?”
“Oi, Sperm is a perfectly good name!” protested Jack, but Owen was already leaving.
“At least we can use pronouns for Morris!” he yelled as he stomped out in a huff.
Jack’s lip quivered.
Gwen, Toshiko and Ianto all held their breath, waiting for the inevitable meltdown, but Jack simply sniffled. Tosh was first to break the awkward silence.
“Well, I should go run some figures. I keep finding more functions of tan in the rift equations. Slightly worried about what’ll happen if the variables ever reach ninety degrees…” She scurried off, ignoring the blank looks from her colleagues.
“Yeah, I should go too,” added Gwen, following Tosh out of the door, “I promised Rhys I’d be home for Strictly Come Dancing tonight, he’s making couscous…”
This left Jack and Ianto alone together. There was another long, awkward silence. Jack shifted in his seat, waiting for Ianto to say something. Anything.
“Look, Ianto,” he ventured after several minutes of brooding, “I never-”
But he never finished.
“Y cedor lama!” exclaimed Ianto angrily, and before Jack could say another word, he stormed out of the boardroom and slammed the door loudly behind him, leaving Jack with nothing for company but a plain, pale blue mug containing dregs of cold coffee.