Torchwood IMs by a_silver_story
Title: Secrets
Chapter: 94
Characters: Ianto Jones, Jack Harkness, Rhys Williams, Gwen Cooper
Author: a_silver_story
Genre Humour, smut, angst
Rating: G - nc-17
Warnings: M.M
Disclaimer: If I owned anything in this, I'd be a rich rich rich bitch. However, I am not a rich rich rich bitch so you may all, therefore, assume I own nothing. Which I don't. It all belongs RTD and the BBC, in case any of you didn't know.
Summary: See title, really.
FIRST PART | Ianto and Gwen's IM's
PREVIOUS | Torchwood Index/Masterlist
94 |
Gwen wandered into the Hub at nine AM, yawning and hoping that coffee would be up for grabs soon. The lights are all on, which usually means Ianto's around somewhere since Jack had apparently forgotten where the light switch was if it meant he could get a couple of attractive young things alone in the dark.
She set her bag down on her workstation, yawning again and fumbling for the 'power on' button. Ianto, it seemed, had predicted her estimated time of arrival and appeared at her side with a mug of coffee and a 'Good Morning' that didn't quite ring true.
“What's up, love?” Gwen asked with frown, sipping from her mug.
Ianto's face, for a fleeting second, resembled something close to a grimace. “His Harkness is in a strop. Don't expect a civil word from him.”
Gwen made an 'eeek!' face that brought a smile to Ianto's lips.
“He'll get over it eventually. Though sooner rather than later would be nice.”
Gwen nodded and yawned, turning to log in. She raised her head and gave Ianto a pointed look when she realised he was still watching her.
“What?”
“I … erm … I couldn't help but notice … is your secure password, consisting of numbers, letters and symbols and something supposedly uncrackable … gwen<3rhys4eva?”
Gwen flicked her hair haughtily. “What if it is?”
Ianto smirked. “It's remarkably similar to mine, is all.”
She laughed. “ianto<3jack?”
Ianto shook his head. “Oh dear God, no,” he joked, eyes twinkling. “I'd pick Rhys any day!”
“Oi, paws off,” Gwen chastised, giving him a playful shove.
“Mua-ha.”
They were disturbed by the sound of a throat clearing behind them.
“Morning, Jack!” Gwen smiled brightly, her morning coffee already working its magic.
“Morning, Gwen. Could we … y'know … get a bit of work done, please?”
“My station isn't even logged in yet,” huffed Gwen.
“Then think about work while you're waiting,” Jack huffed back.
Ianto rolled his eyes. “Ignore him, Gwen. He's just sour I wouldn't let him buy something he didn't need at the auction yesterday.”
Jack scowled. “You're as sour as I am,” he replied curtly, turned on his heel and slammed the door to his office shut.
Gwen giggled. “You two are funny, sometimes.”
Ianto gave her a strange look, though better than than to question her and sat down at his own workstation.
~*~*~*~
JACK has entered the conversation
JACK: Hi, Gwen. Sorry about that.
GWEN: No problems, love. I understand.
JACK: I don't think I properly said thank you for yesterday.
GWEN: Ohhh that's all right! I was glad to help out.
GWEN: I just can't wait to see Ianto's face.
GWEN: I think he'll explode.
JACK: Please don't give it away.
JACK: If he finds out before I tell him, he will explode!
GWEN: Are you going to be nicer to him?
JACK: He wouldn't let me buy my car. He needs to suffer a little bit first before I tell him about … y'know … the secret phone bidder at the auction ….
GWEN: I'll keep my jacket on, then.
GWEN: That way he won't see my “I'M THE SECRET PHONE BIDDER BUT JACK MADE ME DO IT!” t-shirt.
JACK: Shhhhhhh. He'll hear what you're typing.
GWEN: *whispers* your secret is safe with me as long as you promise to break the news to him when I'm present.
JACK: *whispers back* I'm going to tell him tonight, I think.
GWEN: Yay! I'll write it in my schedule.
GWEN: “Ianto Go 'Splodey - PM”
JACK: Followed by Make Up Man Shagginz?
GWEN: Again … only if I'm present :D
~*~*~*~
JACK has entered the conversation
JACK: Hi
MR JONES: Hi
JACK: Forgiven me yet?
MR JONES: No. You forgiven me?
JACK: No.
JACK: I still don't see why we couldn't have gone with the 'we both get what we want' option.
MR JONES: Because of the principle of the thing, Jack. We can't afford to blow that much money on stuff we didn't really need.
MR JONES: i.e.: that car.
MR JONES: Where there's much more useful things to spend it on.
JACK: … like a Darth Vader action figure?
MR JONES: Exactly.
JACK: You did NOT NEED that toy!
MR JONES: I'm not having this argument again.
MR JONES: He was not a toy. He was a collectible.
MR JONES: … and neither of us got what we wanted. So … the point is moot. We need to hold our heads high and move on - sans classic car and World's Rarest Action Figure.
JACK: *sigh*
MR JONES: *rolls eyes*
MR JONES: This time next week you won't even remember.
JACK: … as if you're not gonna hold you not getting Darth Vader over my head.
MR JONES: Only for a couple of days!
MR JONES: I think we should both just leave it, Jack.
MR JONES: In the end, they were only things.
MR JONES: Very expensive things.
JACK: Yeah. Maybe.
JACK: I have a bit of paperwork to do, so I'll see you when you do your coffee round, kk?
MR JONES: K
JACK has left the conversation
~*~*~*~
RHYS has entered the conversation
RHYS: Gooooood morning, lover.
MR JONES: Morning, dearest.
MR JONES: How be yee, this fair morn?
RHYS: Not too bad.
RHYS: Yourself.
MR JONES: Jack's still sore about the car.
RHYS: And how are you holding up over VaderGate?
MR JONES: … I have no idea how I'm going to explain the absent money away to Jack.
MR JONES: He's bound to notice.
MR JONES: The Lot hardly went cheap.
RHYS: I know. You borrowed me to bid on it.
MR JONES: But you're a good Non-Homosexual Boyfriend, and I knew I could depend on you.
RHYS: I wanna see Jack's face when you tell him.
MR JONES: Ha!
MR JONES: No chance.
RHYS: I could nip to the hub …
RHYS: Claim I'm all out of Danish Swirls, and does the World's Most Efficient Archiving Tea Boy have any?
RHYS: What's that? There's a rather large amount of money missing from your saving account?
RHYS: Tut tut!
MR JONES: Shut up, you. I might accidentally lock you in a cell, completely and utterly convinced you're an imposter that's replaced Rhys in a now foiled attempt to compromise the Hub and pilfer the Archives.
RHYS: … what's scary is that I know you'd be insane enough to do it.
MR JONES: Aww. Thank you!
MR JONES: Anyways, Jack's just metaphorically walked out on our IM conversation. I shall have to cut this sociality short, I'm afraid, before he gets curious as to what I might be saying/bitching about him.
RHYS: Haha okays.
RHYS: Will texting you be safe?
MR JONES: As long as you don't send me any sexts this time.
RHYS: I TOLD YOU
RHYS: THEY WERE FOR GWEN! 'I' AND 'G' ARE CLOSE TOGETHER IN MY CONTACTS LIST!
RHYS: … besides … you sexted back!
MR JONES: Yah - and you freaked out like Gwen vs. Post-It notes.
RHYS: LOL.
MR JONES: ttyl xxx
RHYS: byeeeeeeeeeee xx
MR JONES has left the conversation
~*~*~*~
Ianto set his station to 'Hibernate' and gathered up a few files that needed to go back into the Archives. He checked Gwen and Andy and Jack's desks for any others that might need to go down, and headed for his little office underground to sort them.
He set them down on the table, took a moment to breathe, then carefully opened his desk drawer. He smiled fondly at the undeniably precious little black box he had hidden there.
~*~*~*~*~
Seeing Ianto heading down to the Archives, Jack couldn't help himself. He waited a couple of seconds and unlocked his desk drawer, pulling it open slowly and revealing his new secret inside. He ran his hand over the top of the smooth box that currently kept it safe and comfortable, and bit his lip.
How, exactly, should he tell Ianto?
~*~*~*~
How, exactly, should he tell Jack?
Ianto carefully opened the box, the hinges snapping it open.
With finger and thumb, carefully Ianto pulled out the little metal keys, the Cadillac logo set into the sides and on the key fob.
He needed the perfect way to tell him.
~*~*~*~
He needed the perfect way to tell him.
“Stop calling, stop calling I don't wanna think any more … I left my head and my heart on the dance floor ...” Jack sang, making the little Darth Vader dance across his desk.
He smiled smugly to himself.
Ianto was gonna 'SPLODE ….
FIN
Comments be love, yes?
Previous Part | Torchwood Index | Request a Convo/Prose Fic
Chapter: 94
Characters: Ianto Jones, Jack Harkness, Rhys Williams, Gwen Cooper
Author: a_silver_story
Genre Humour, smut, angst
Rating: G - nc-17
Warnings: M.M
Disclaimer: If I owned anything in this, I'd be a rich rich rich bitch. However, I am not a rich rich rich bitch so you may all, therefore, assume I own nothing. Which I don't. It all belongs RTD and the BBC, in case any of you didn't know.
Summary: See title, really.
FIRST PART | Ianto and Gwen's IM's
PREVIOUS | Torchwood Index/Masterlist
94 |
Gwen wandered into the Hub at nine AM, yawning and hoping that coffee would be up for grabs soon. The lights are all on, which usually means Ianto's around somewhere since Jack had apparently forgotten where the light switch was if it meant he could get a couple of attractive young things alone in the dark.
She set her bag down on her workstation, yawning again and fumbling for the 'power on' button. Ianto, it seemed, had predicted her estimated time of arrival and appeared at her side with a mug of coffee and a 'Good Morning' that didn't quite ring true.
“What's up, love?” Gwen asked with frown, sipping from her mug.
Ianto's face, for a fleeting second, resembled something close to a grimace. “His Harkness is in a strop. Don't expect a civil word from him.”
Gwen made an 'eeek!' face that brought a smile to Ianto's lips.
“He'll get over it eventually. Though sooner rather than later would be nice.”
Gwen nodded and yawned, turning to log in. She raised her head and gave Ianto a pointed look when she realised he was still watching her.
“What?”
“I … erm … I couldn't help but notice … is your secure password, consisting of numbers, letters and symbols and something supposedly uncrackable … gwen<3rhys4eva?”
Gwen flicked her hair haughtily. “What if it is?”
Ianto smirked. “It's remarkably similar to mine, is all.”
She laughed. “ianto<3jack?”
Ianto shook his head. “Oh dear God, no,” he joked, eyes twinkling. “I'd pick Rhys any day!”
“Oi, paws off,” Gwen chastised, giving him a playful shove.
“Mua-ha.”
They were disturbed by the sound of a throat clearing behind them.
“Morning, Jack!” Gwen smiled brightly, her morning coffee already working its magic.
“Morning, Gwen. Could we … y'know … get a bit of work done, please?”
“My station isn't even logged in yet,” huffed Gwen.
“Then think about work while you're waiting,” Jack huffed back.
Ianto rolled his eyes. “Ignore him, Gwen. He's just sour I wouldn't let him buy something he didn't need at the auction yesterday.”
Jack scowled. “You're as sour as I am,” he replied curtly, turned on his heel and slammed the door to his office shut.
Gwen giggled. “You two are funny, sometimes.”
Ianto gave her a strange look, though better than than to question her and sat down at his own workstation.
~*~*~*~
JACK has entered the conversation
JACK: Hi, Gwen. Sorry about that.
GWEN: No problems, love. I understand.
JACK: I don't think I properly said thank you for yesterday.
GWEN: Ohhh that's all right! I was glad to help out.
GWEN: I just can't wait to see Ianto's face.
GWEN: I think he'll explode.
JACK: Please don't give it away.
JACK: If he finds out before I tell him, he will explode!
GWEN: Are you going to be nicer to him?
JACK: He wouldn't let me buy my car. He needs to suffer a little bit first before I tell him about … y'know … the secret phone bidder at the auction ….
GWEN: I'll keep my jacket on, then.
GWEN: That way he won't see my “I'M THE SECRET PHONE BIDDER BUT JACK MADE ME DO IT!” t-shirt.
JACK: Shhhhhhh. He'll hear what you're typing.
GWEN: *whispers* your secret is safe with me as long as you promise to break the news to him when I'm present.
JACK: *whispers back* I'm going to tell him tonight, I think.
GWEN: Yay! I'll write it in my schedule.
GWEN: “Ianto Go 'Splodey - PM”
JACK: Followed by Make Up Man Shagginz?
GWEN: Again … only if I'm present :D
~*~*~*~
JACK has entered the conversation
JACK: Hi
MR JONES: Hi
JACK: Forgiven me yet?
MR JONES: No. You forgiven me?
JACK: No.
JACK: I still don't see why we couldn't have gone with the 'we both get what we want' option.
MR JONES: Because of the principle of the thing, Jack. We can't afford to blow that much money on stuff we didn't really need.
MR JONES: i.e.: that car.
MR JONES: Where there's much more useful things to spend it on.
JACK: … like a Darth Vader action figure?
MR JONES: Exactly.
JACK: You did NOT NEED that toy!
MR JONES: I'm not having this argument again.
MR JONES: He was not a toy. He was a collectible.
MR JONES: … and neither of us got what we wanted. So … the point is moot. We need to hold our heads high and move on - sans classic car and World's Rarest Action Figure.
JACK: *sigh*
MR JONES: *rolls eyes*
MR JONES: This time next week you won't even remember.
JACK: … as if you're not gonna hold you not getting Darth Vader over my head.
MR JONES: Only for a couple of days!
MR JONES: I think we should both just leave it, Jack.
MR JONES: In the end, they were only things.
MR JONES: Very expensive things.
JACK: Yeah. Maybe.
JACK: I have a bit of paperwork to do, so I'll see you when you do your coffee round, kk?
MR JONES: K
JACK has left the conversation
~*~*~*~
RHYS has entered the conversation
RHYS: Gooooood morning, lover.
MR JONES: Morning, dearest.
MR JONES: How be yee, this fair morn?
RHYS: Not too bad.
RHYS: Yourself.
MR JONES: Jack's still sore about the car.
RHYS: And how are you holding up over VaderGate?
MR JONES: … I have no idea how I'm going to explain the absent money away to Jack.
MR JONES: He's bound to notice.
MR JONES: The Lot hardly went cheap.
RHYS: I know. You borrowed me to bid on it.
MR JONES: But you're a good Non-Homosexual Boyfriend, and I knew I could depend on you.
RHYS: I wanna see Jack's face when you tell him.
MR JONES: Ha!
MR JONES: No chance.
RHYS: I could nip to the hub …
RHYS: Claim I'm all out of Danish Swirls, and does the World's Most Efficient Archiving Tea Boy have any?
RHYS: What's that? There's a rather large amount of money missing from your saving account?
RHYS: Tut tut!
MR JONES: Shut up, you. I might accidentally lock you in a cell, completely and utterly convinced you're an imposter that's replaced Rhys in a now foiled attempt to compromise the Hub and pilfer the Archives.
RHYS: … what's scary is that I know you'd be insane enough to do it.
MR JONES: Aww. Thank you!
MR JONES: Anyways, Jack's just metaphorically walked out on our IM conversation. I shall have to cut this sociality short, I'm afraid, before he gets curious as to what I might be saying/bitching about him.
RHYS: Haha okays.
RHYS: Will texting you be safe?
MR JONES: As long as you don't send me any sexts this time.
RHYS: I TOLD YOU
RHYS: THEY WERE FOR GWEN! 'I' AND 'G' ARE CLOSE TOGETHER IN MY CONTACTS LIST!
RHYS: … besides … you sexted back!
MR JONES: Yah - and you freaked out like Gwen vs. Post-It notes.
RHYS: LOL.
MR JONES: ttyl xxx
RHYS: byeeeeeeeeeee xx
MR JONES has left the conversation
~*~*~*~
Ianto set his station to 'Hibernate' and gathered up a few files that needed to go back into the Archives. He checked Gwen and Andy and Jack's desks for any others that might need to go down, and headed for his little office underground to sort them.
He set them down on the table, took a moment to breathe, then carefully opened his desk drawer. He smiled fondly at the undeniably precious little black box he had hidden there.
~*~*~*~*~
Seeing Ianto heading down to the Archives, Jack couldn't help himself. He waited a couple of seconds and unlocked his desk drawer, pulling it open slowly and revealing his new secret inside. He ran his hand over the top of the smooth box that currently kept it safe and comfortable, and bit his lip.
How, exactly, should he tell Ianto?
~*~*~*~
How, exactly, should he tell Jack?
Ianto carefully opened the box, the hinges snapping it open.
With finger and thumb, carefully Ianto pulled out the little metal keys, the Cadillac logo set into the sides and on the key fob.
He needed the perfect way to tell him.
~*~*~*~
He needed the perfect way to tell him.
“Stop calling, stop calling I don't wanna think any more … I left my head and my heart on the dance floor ...” Jack sang, making the little Darth Vader dance across his desk.
He smiled smugly to himself.
Ianto was gonna 'SPLODE ….
FIN
Comments be love, yes?
Previous Part | Torchwood Index | Request a Convo/Prose Fic