Fic: The Suit That Turned Left - Meme fill for tardisjournal
Title: The Suit That Turned Left
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: George, Ianto (very briefly)
Rating: G
Spoilers/Warnings: None at all
Word Count: 362
Summary: George rises and gets to work on his first morning.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood or any of the characters, except George.
A/N: For tardisjournal , who wanted ‘Ianto’s Little Helper, missing scene. Because I can never get enough of George. I was just thinking of him the other day when I saw "The Suit That Turned Left" as a tw100 prompt. Seemed like a perfect description of that story to me!’
So I tried, and I even managed to make the suit turn left, though it took rather more than 100 words to do it! It’s kind of a prequel to the original fic.
The suit stirred and shook itself, stretching as though waking up. Fumbling a little in the dark, it found the catch and swung the locker door open before easing itself off the hanger and stepping down from the locker, closing the door carefully behind it. It shuffled a little, as if getting its shoes on properly as it made its way over to the long mirror above the sinks.
Checking its appearance critically, it buttoned its shirt, tucking it neatly into its trousers before fastening them, then slid its shirt clad arms through its waistcoat armholes and jacket sleeves, buttoning both garments and smoothing them down. Facing the mirror, it straightened its sleeves then reached up and effortlessly tied its tie.
It stood for a little while, turning this way and that, seeming to study its reflection despite having no head and therefore no eyes to see with. Finally satisfied that its appearance was immaculate, it turned on its heel and headed out of the locker room, on impulse turning left to make its way down to the archives instead of right to go up to the main Hub. Just as it vanished around a corner, Ianto Jones appeared, heading for the locker room to shower, never realising that his spare suit had just left without him.
As Ianto showered, the suit rummaged in the drawer of the desk tucked away in a corner of the archives, finding a set of cufflinks that had been left there a couple of weeks earlier and using them to secure its shirt cuffs. Finally feeling properly attired, it headed back up the stairs to the main Hub. It seemed to recall there was a lot to be done today, and as with every morning, the first job on the agenda was making coffee for Jack.
Bustling about happily, it started the coffee brewing and reached into the cupboard for Jack’s favourite mug, setting it on the counter just as the machine signalled that the coffee was ready. As Jack emerged from his office, it started pouring his morning brew and felt a sense of satisfaction at its perfect timing. All was as it should be.
Continued in ‘Ianto’s Little Helper’