fic: you're a keeper
title: You're a keeper
characters: Jack/Ianto
words: 544
rating: PG
note: a very short drabble written for day 29 at horizonssing... Let's pretend it's still July and this counts. The prompt was way too pretty to pass up.
Nash Point Lighthouse, Vale of Glamorgan
Ianto likes things that run like clockwork, so it’s only natural he likes lighthouses.
But it isn’t natural that Jack knows this little piece of information about him. Ianto is certain Jack has been snooping through his diary. Again.
“You told me you only read the bits about you,” Ianto says, climbing out of the front passenger's seat of the SUV.
“I did.”
“Under no circumstances did I mention ‘Jack’ and ‘lighthouses’ in the same sentence.”
“Funny how you mentioned ‘Jack’ and ‘measuring tapes lie’ in the same sentence.”
Ianto blushes profusely. “Am I going to have to padlock my diary like some 12-year-old girl?”
Grinning loonily, Jack leans forward and whispers in Ianto’s ear, “You of all people know how good I am at picking locks.”
“One minute, twelve seconds,” Ianto replies without missing a beat.
Today the Rift has been quiet enough for Jack and Ianto to spare a moment alone. However, the moment isn’t spared in an office or on a roof. To Ianto’s surprise, Jack brings him to Nash Point Lighthouse.
“Come on,” Jack smiles. “Let’s go up.”
The journey up the spiral staircase is a gruelling one. There is a reason why Torchwood Three has an invisible lift and not an invisible flight of stairs. They climb the steps to the lantern room at the very top of the tower containing the lens, the heart of the lighthouse. Inside the lantern room there is a 360-degree scenic view of the ocean and Vale of Glamorgan, lush fields of green on one side and unending stretches of blue sea on the other. Ianto’s breath catches in his throat.
“Breathtaking, isn’t it?” murmurs the Welshman.
Jack whistles impressively in agreement. Only when Ianto glances over his shoulder does he realize he and Jack are looking at two very different things. Ianto is admiring the scenery; Jack is admiring Ianto’s arse. Ianto rolls his eyes, tugs on Jack’s elbow and says, “Eyes where I can see them.”
While bouncing back and forth on his heels, Jack takes note that all the walls are made up of window panes and there is a very slim chance Ianto will have sex with him up here, especially after the incident involving Gwen walking in on them in the hothouse.
“I like lighthouses,” Jack confesses. “They’re very… phallic. If it weren’t for lighthouses sailors would never come back home in those cute uniforms…” He trails off, gazing dreamily.
“Picturing me as a sailor?”
“Uh huh.”
Ianto is reminded of Martha Jones and a certain red cap he received in the post. “Shame you don’t know anyone who works for the Royal Navy. You could have asked for a spare uniform.”
Jack smirks. “What makes you think I don’t know anybody in the Navy?”
Ianto lifts an eyebrow at that, but Jack doesn’t elaborate further. Ianto expects he'll be sent a Royal Navy officers cap in a brown jiffy bag soon. They stare out at the horizon, shoulder-to-shoulder, soaking up the tranquillity of it all. Up above, seagulls caw and circle endlessly.
“I think lighthouses are reminders,” Ianto says softly, “that even when life sends us into uncharted waters, you can always find your way back with the help of something or someone special.”
The smitten look on Jack’s face inclines he agrees. He catches Ianto by the chin and kisses him sweetly.
“You’re a keeper, Ianto Jones,” Jack tells him. “In every sense of the word.”
characters: Jack/Ianto
words: 544
rating: PG
note: a very short drabble written for day 29 at horizonssing... Let's pretend it's still July and this counts. The prompt was way too pretty to pass up.
Nash Point Lighthouse, Vale of Glamorgan
Ianto likes things that run like clockwork, so it’s only natural he likes lighthouses.
But it isn’t natural that Jack knows this little piece of information about him. Ianto is certain Jack has been snooping through his diary. Again.
“You told me you only read the bits about you,” Ianto says, climbing out of the front passenger's seat of the SUV.
“I did.”
“Under no circumstances did I mention ‘Jack’ and ‘lighthouses’ in the same sentence.”
“Funny how you mentioned ‘Jack’ and ‘measuring tapes lie’ in the same sentence.”
Ianto blushes profusely. “Am I going to have to padlock my diary like some 12-year-old girl?”
Grinning loonily, Jack leans forward and whispers in Ianto’s ear, “You of all people know how good I am at picking locks.”
“One minute, twelve seconds,” Ianto replies without missing a beat.
Today the Rift has been quiet enough for Jack and Ianto to spare a moment alone. However, the moment isn’t spared in an office or on a roof. To Ianto’s surprise, Jack brings him to Nash Point Lighthouse.
“Come on,” Jack smiles. “Let’s go up.”
The journey up the spiral staircase is a gruelling one. There is a reason why Torchwood Three has an invisible lift and not an invisible flight of stairs. They climb the steps to the lantern room at the very top of the tower containing the lens, the heart of the lighthouse. Inside the lantern room there is a 360-degree scenic view of the ocean and Vale of Glamorgan, lush fields of green on one side and unending stretches of blue sea on the other. Ianto’s breath catches in his throat.
“Breathtaking, isn’t it?” murmurs the Welshman.
Jack whistles impressively in agreement. Only when Ianto glances over his shoulder does he realize he and Jack are looking at two very different things. Ianto is admiring the scenery; Jack is admiring Ianto’s arse. Ianto rolls his eyes, tugs on Jack’s elbow and says, “Eyes where I can see them.”
While bouncing back and forth on his heels, Jack takes note that all the walls are made up of window panes and there is a very slim chance Ianto will have sex with him up here, especially after the incident involving Gwen walking in on them in the hothouse.
“I like lighthouses,” Jack confesses. “They’re very… phallic. If it weren’t for lighthouses sailors would never come back home in those cute uniforms…” He trails off, gazing dreamily.
“Picturing me as a sailor?”
“Uh huh.”
Ianto is reminded of Martha Jones and a certain red cap he received in the post. “Shame you don’t know anyone who works for the Royal Navy. You could have asked for a spare uniform.”
Jack smirks. “What makes you think I don’t know anybody in the Navy?”
Ianto lifts an eyebrow at that, but Jack doesn’t elaborate further. Ianto expects he'll be sent a Royal Navy officers cap in a brown jiffy bag soon. They stare out at the horizon, shoulder-to-shoulder, soaking up the tranquillity of it all. Up above, seagulls caw and circle endlessly.
“I think lighthouses are reminders,” Ianto says softly, “that even when life sends us into uncharted waters, you can always find your way back with the help of something or someone special.”
The smitten look on Jack’s face inclines he agrees. He catches Ianto by the chin and kisses him sweetly.
“You’re a keeper, Ianto Jones,” Jack tells him. “In every sense of the word.”