(no subject)
Title: Gwen's Late.
Chapter: 65
Characters: Ianto Jones, Jack Harkness, PC Andy Davidson
Author: a_silver_story
Genre Humour.
Rating: R
Warnings: M.M implied, cuss
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: Rhys wakes up in a strange house, wandering the streets lost and trying to piece together the events of the night before. Jack, however, has other means of finding out ....
FIRST PART | Ianto and Gwen's IM's
PREVIOUS | Torchwood Index/Masterlist
65 |
JACK has entered the conversation
JACK: Mornin’ lover ;)
MR JONES: Are you suggesting that ‘lover’ becomes my pet name?
JACK: I think it’s cute
MR JONES: Hmmm ... we’ll put it on the ‘maybe’ list.
JACK: :D
JACK: Whatcha doin’?
MR JONES: Finding Gwen.
JACK: Why the hell isn’t she at her desk?
MR JONES: I don’t know! That’s why I’m trying to find her.
JACK: *sigh* typical bloody Gwen. Never there when you need her.
JACK: She’s probably practising sympathetic faces in the mirror :P
MR JONES: Ommmmmmm!
JACK: Oh come onnnn! We’re both thinking it :p
MR JONES: Thinking it is fine. Actually saying it gets you bollocked.
JACK: Hmmm. I’ll have to get you to ‘bollock’ me sometime soon :-P
MR JONES: We’ll give Gwen five minutes to get her sorry arse up to the main area, and if she’s a no show we can run down to Room 23.
JACK: *innocent whistle*
JACK: We don’t use that room nearly as much as we should. It depresses me.
MR JONES: It’s finding the time ¬_¬
MR JONES: We need to find some new employees, Jack. A doctor and a technician. Especially a doctor. There is no way I’m letting you dress my battle wounds again.
JACK: Hey ... we have fun dressing battle wounds :-P
MR JONES: You do. I’m the one that has to suffer the pain of them after strenuous activities ¬_¬
JACK: :( *huggles Ianto*
JACK: Ooo maybe ‘Huggles’ could be your pet name?
MR JONES: ... do you honestly think I look like a ‘Huggles’ kinda guy?
JACK: That’s a ‘no’ then?
MR JONES: A resounding ‘no’, Jack.
JACK: *pouts*
JACK: How long has Gwen got?
MR JONES: 2 and a half minutes.
JACK: You’ve got your stopwatch ;P
MR JONES: I’ve always got my stopwatch ;)
JACK: Gotta be ready ;)
MR JONES: Unless you’re Gwen ... in which case you’ll dawdle along in your own good mystical time.
JACK: Hehehhe. Bitchy :p
MR JONES: o:-) I have no idea what you mean, sir.
JACK: Honestly, and you told me off for mentioning her practising sympathy faces in the mirror *rolls eyes*
MR JONES: Heyyyyyy ... eye-rolling is my thing!
JACK: Hay rolling is mine ;)
MR JONES: Eugh. no one calls sex “a roll in the hay” these days, Jack.
JACK: I do.
MR JONES: Yeahhh but you’re trapped in the forties.
JACK: Am not!
MR JONES: ... big ... grey ... coat ...
JACK: I’m retro.
MR JONES: Braces and slacks ...
JACK: So?
MR JONES: I’d say: less ‘retro’, more ‘historically accurate’
JACK: shadduppa ya face.
JACK: Can’t I call you honey?
MR JONES: My mad aunts call me ‘honey’.
JACK: Meh.
MR JONES: You can call me God if you like ;P
JACK: Ianto Jones: Harknessian God of Coffee and Stimulation.
MR JONES: Oh great. You’re planning your own religion ...
JACK: Worked for Scientologists.
MR JONES: I think Gwen’s time is up.
JACK: *hmph* You two are supposed to be the reliable ones. What the hell is she playing at? It’ll take all three of us to work this thing, and if she’s not at her station it’s going to go to shit.
MR JONES: We don’t even know if it’s going to work with the three of us.
JACK: We don’t even know what it does.
MR JONES: My money’s on futuristic toaster *crosses fingers*
JACK: I hope it’s a Punctuality Machine. It makes your employees arrive for scheduled experiments on time.
MR JONES: hehehehe. Now who’s the bitch?
JACK: You are. You’re my bitch.
MR JONES: You’re wrapped around my little finger and you know it
JACK: Check your dog tags - who is it you belong to again?
MR JONES: I believe that would be you :)
JACK: Yep ^_^
JACK: You’re my dependable little Ianto ... and you’re never, ever late >:(
MR JONES: Maybe something’s wrong.
JACK: Maybe she got lost on her way from the bathroom to her workstation. She’s done it before
MR JONES: *rolls eyes* In her first week! I had to go down to the Archives and track her. That was joyful.
JACK: I’m going to ring her.
MR JONES: Don’t bother. We’ll do the experiment another time. Let’s go to the den ;)
JACK: Hmmmm. That does sound ohhhh so tempting ...
GWEN: Don’t you dare!
MR JONES: WTF??
JACK: How did ... you can’t follow my conversations without me knowing! You don’t know how!
GWEN: That’s why I’m using Ianto's computer in the Archives. You two are such bitches!
JACK: It’s not us who’s late!
GWEN: I was busy.
MR JONES: So am I, but I managed to get here on time.
GWEN: Yes well ... I was doing something ‘personal’.
JACK: ... don’t you pick your moments.
MR JONES: ‘Personal’? What were you doing that was more important than work ... on work hours?
JACK: Were you on the phone to Rhys again?
MR JONES: I’ll give you a fiver if she was.
JACK: Deal.
GWEN: I was not on the phone to Rhys, actually.
MR JONES: Are you sure?
JACK: We can check the call logs, remember.
JACK: Does this mean I have to give Ianto a fiver?
GWEN: I was doing something personal. Now leave it at that.
MR JONES: *raises eyebrow*
JACK: I told you. Practising expressions.
GWEN: I was NOT!
MR JONES: You were supposed to be here, Gwen! If you get to skive off to be ‘personal’, then we should be allowed to as well!
GWEN: You sneak off like ... three times a day!
JACK: Okay ... even for us that’s an exaggeration.
MR JONES: I certainly don’t have that stamina ...
JACK: Though your coffee definitely helps ...
GWEN: Okay, OKAY! I’ll tell you!
JACK: This had better be good ...
MR JONES: *crosses fingers* mirror mirror mirror mirror
GWEN: If you must know, I’ve just started my period and had to go to the toilet to change my tampon.
GWEN has left the conversation
MR JONES: ... ew.
JACK: That is the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever read.
MR JONES: Clearly, you’ve never read anything by Stephenie Mayer.
JACK: Den?
MR JONES: Den.
JACK: Now.
MR JONES: I’m already on my way xx
MR JONES has left the conversation
FIN
I know I'm asking a lot of questions lately, but I swear it's for your own good. If I know how to make you happy, then I can be happy DESTROYING YOUR HOPES AND DREAMS ... *Ahem* ... I mean ... adhereing to your wants and needs as my audience ...yeah.
Sorry, had an RTD moment there!
Anyhoo, if you could pretty please take the 8 question survey pertaining to this IM fic, I would be forever grateful. Remember, if you don't vote, it'll be your fault when EVERYBODY DIES ... I mean ... *cough* ... the characters you like live happily ever after in the Land of FanFiction and Smut. (aka my journal)
View Survey
(It's java, so when you're done it will come back to this page - technological genius or WOT??)
Next Part | Previous Part | Torchwood Index | Request a Convo/Prose Fic
Chapter: 65
Characters: Ianto Jones, Jack Harkness, PC Andy Davidson
Author: a_silver_story
Genre Humour.
Rating: R
Warnings: M.M implied, cuss
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: Rhys wakes up in a strange house, wandering the streets lost and trying to piece together the events of the night before. Jack, however, has other means of finding out ....
FIRST PART | Ianto and Gwen's IM's
PREVIOUS | Torchwood Index/Masterlist
65 |
JACK has entered the conversation
JACK: Mornin’ lover ;)
MR JONES: Are you suggesting that ‘lover’ becomes my pet name?
JACK: I think it’s cute
MR JONES: Hmmm ... we’ll put it on the ‘maybe’ list.
JACK: :D
JACK: Whatcha doin’?
MR JONES: Finding Gwen.
JACK: Why the hell isn’t she at her desk?
MR JONES: I don’t know! That’s why I’m trying to find her.
JACK: *sigh* typical bloody Gwen. Never there when you need her.
JACK: She’s probably practising sympathetic faces in the mirror :P
MR JONES: Ommmmmmm!
JACK: Oh come onnnn! We’re both thinking it :p
MR JONES: Thinking it is fine. Actually saying it gets you bollocked.
JACK: Hmmm. I’ll have to get you to ‘bollock’ me sometime soon :-P
MR JONES: We’ll give Gwen five minutes to get her sorry arse up to the main area, and if she’s a no show we can run down to Room 23.
JACK: *innocent whistle*
JACK: We don’t use that room nearly as much as we should. It depresses me.
MR JONES: It’s finding the time ¬_¬
MR JONES: We need to find some new employees, Jack. A doctor and a technician. Especially a doctor. There is no way I’m letting you dress my battle wounds again.
JACK: Hey ... we have fun dressing battle wounds :-P
MR JONES: You do. I’m the one that has to suffer the pain of them after strenuous activities ¬_¬
JACK: :( *huggles Ianto*
JACK: Ooo maybe ‘Huggles’ could be your pet name?
MR JONES: ... do you honestly think I look like a ‘Huggles’ kinda guy?
JACK: That’s a ‘no’ then?
MR JONES: A resounding ‘no’, Jack.
JACK: *pouts*
JACK: How long has Gwen got?
MR JONES: 2 and a half minutes.
JACK: You’ve got your stopwatch ;P
MR JONES: I’ve always got my stopwatch ;)
JACK: Gotta be ready ;)
MR JONES: Unless you’re Gwen ... in which case you’ll dawdle along in your own good mystical time.
JACK: Hehehhe. Bitchy :p
MR JONES: o:-) I have no idea what you mean, sir.
JACK: Honestly, and you told me off for mentioning her practising sympathy faces in the mirror *rolls eyes*
MR JONES: Heyyyyyy ... eye-rolling is my thing!
JACK: Hay rolling is mine ;)
MR JONES: Eugh. no one calls sex “a roll in the hay” these days, Jack.
JACK: I do.
MR JONES: Yeahhh but you’re trapped in the forties.
JACK: Am not!
MR JONES: ... big ... grey ... coat ...
JACK: I’m retro.
MR JONES: Braces and slacks ...
JACK: So?
MR JONES: I’d say: less ‘retro’, more ‘historically accurate’
JACK: shadduppa ya face.
JACK: Can’t I call you honey?
MR JONES: My mad aunts call me ‘honey’.
JACK: Meh.
MR JONES: You can call me God if you like ;P
JACK: Ianto Jones: Harknessian God of Coffee and Stimulation.
MR JONES: Oh great. You’re planning your own religion ...
JACK: Worked for Scientologists.
MR JONES: I think Gwen’s time is up.
JACK: *hmph* You two are supposed to be the reliable ones. What the hell is she playing at? It’ll take all three of us to work this thing, and if she’s not at her station it’s going to go to shit.
MR JONES: We don’t even know if it’s going to work with the three of us.
JACK: We don’t even know what it does.
MR JONES: My money’s on futuristic toaster *crosses fingers*
JACK: I hope it’s a Punctuality Machine. It makes your employees arrive for scheduled experiments on time.
MR JONES: hehehehe. Now who’s the bitch?
JACK: You are. You’re my bitch.
MR JONES: You’re wrapped around my little finger and you know it
JACK: Check your dog tags - who is it you belong to again?
MR JONES: I believe that would be you :)
JACK: Yep ^_^
JACK: You’re my dependable little Ianto ... and you’re never, ever late >:(
MR JONES: Maybe something’s wrong.
JACK: Maybe she got lost on her way from the bathroom to her workstation. She’s done it before
MR JONES: *rolls eyes* In her first week! I had to go down to the Archives and track her. That was joyful.
JACK: I’m going to ring her.
MR JONES: Don’t bother. We’ll do the experiment another time. Let’s go to the den ;)
JACK: Hmmmm. That does sound ohhhh so tempting ...
GWEN: Don’t you dare!
MR JONES: WTF??
JACK: How did ... you can’t follow my conversations without me knowing! You don’t know how!
GWEN: That’s why I’m using Ianto's computer in the Archives. You two are such bitches!
JACK: It’s not us who’s late!
GWEN: I was busy.
MR JONES: So am I, but I managed to get here on time.
GWEN: Yes well ... I was doing something ‘personal’.
JACK: ... don’t you pick your moments.
MR JONES: ‘Personal’? What were you doing that was more important than work ... on work hours?
JACK: Were you on the phone to Rhys again?
MR JONES: I’ll give you a fiver if she was.
JACK: Deal.
GWEN: I was not on the phone to Rhys, actually.
MR JONES: Are you sure?
JACK: We can check the call logs, remember.
JACK: Does this mean I have to give Ianto a fiver?
GWEN: I was doing something personal. Now leave it at that.
MR JONES: *raises eyebrow*
JACK: I told you. Practising expressions.
GWEN: I was NOT!
MR JONES: You were supposed to be here, Gwen! If you get to skive off to be ‘personal’, then we should be allowed to as well!
GWEN: You sneak off like ... three times a day!
JACK: Okay ... even for us that’s an exaggeration.
MR JONES: I certainly don’t have that stamina ...
JACK: Though your coffee definitely helps ...
GWEN: Okay, OKAY! I’ll tell you!
JACK: This had better be good ...
MR JONES: *crosses fingers* mirror mirror mirror mirror
GWEN: If you must know, I’ve just started my period and had to go to the toilet to change my tampon.
GWEN has left the conversation
MR JONES: ... ew.
JACK: That is the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever read.
MR JONES: Clearly, you’ve never read anything by Stephenie Mayer.
JACK: Den?
MR JONES: Den.
JACK: Now.
MR JONES: I’m already on my way xx
MR JONES has left the conversation
FIN
I know I'm asking a lot of questions lately, but I swear it's for your own good. If I know how to make you happy, then I can be happy DESTROYING YOUR HOPES AND DREAMS ... *Ahem* ... I mean ... adhereing to your wants and needs as my audience ...yeah.
Sorry, had an RTD moment there!
Anyhoo, if you could pretty please take the 8 question survey pertaining to this IM fic, I would be forever grateful. Remember, if you don't vote, it'll be your fault when EVERYBODY DIES ... I mean ... *cough* ... the characters you like live happily ever after in the Land of FanFiction and Smut. (aka my journal)
View Survey
(It's java, so when you're done it will come back to this page - technological genius or WOT??)
Next Part | Previous Part | Torchwood Index | Request a Convo/Prose Fic