Ficlet: Misdirection
Title: Misdirection
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Jack, Ianto, Owen, Tosh, OC.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Ianto and Jack barely need to use words when working together.
Word Count: 500
Written For: Prompt 491: Gesture, at slashthedrabble.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters. They belong to the BBC.
Most people thought Jack was always larger than life, loud and brash, all wide smiles and lavish gestures, and that was true a lot of the time, but that didn’t mean subtlety was outside his repertoire. He’d been a Time Agent and a conman, and had excelled at both; he was good at drawing all attention to himself in order to provide a distraction, but equally good at deflecting attention if that was required.
Sipping his drink, Ianto allowed his gaze to wander aimlessly around the bar, passing over Jack without lingering. The gesture his lover made was so tiny and insignificant, Ianto wouldn’t even have noticed it if he hadn’t been looking for it: a brief flick of one finger. ‘That one’.
Giving a barely perceptible nod in reply, Ianto slid off the barstool, bumping into the man Jack had indicated, jostling him and spilling his drink.
“Oops, sorry! Wasn’t watchin’ where I was going,” he slurred as if drunk. Grabbing a paper serviette off the bar, he patted ineffectually at the man’s shirt, at the same time deftly dropping a tiny tracking chip into his breast pocket. “Lemme buy you another drink.”
The man made an impatient gesture, brushing Ianto’s hand away. “No, it’s fine, I was just leaving anyway.”
Ianto raised his hands in mock surrender. “If you’re sure.”
“I am.” Pushing past him, the man wended his way through the packed bar towards the door.
Jack joined Ianto at the bar, pushing in beside him. “Okay?” he whispered, signalling the bartender for another water.
“Yep,” Ianto replied, just as quietly, draining his glass before making his way unsteadily towards the back of the bar and the door leading to the bathrooms and a rear exit.
Pulling his Bluetooth from his pocket along with his wallet, Jack paid the bartender, then with his elbow on the bar, slipped the earpiece into place on the pretext of resting his head on his hand as he sipped from his glass.
“Owen, tell Tosh he’s tagged and on the move. Ianto’s on his way out. Pick me up out front in two minutes.”
“Will do.”
Removing the earpiece again, Jack drank the rest of his water, sucked on the slice of lemon that had been in it, and dropped it back in the glass with one hand while tucking the earpiece back in his pocket with the other. Unnecessary misdirection in a bar so crammed with tipsy people, but it didn’t hurt to keep in practice.
Jack sauntered unhurriedly towards the door and stepped out onto the pavement just as the SUV cruised to a halt, a completely sober Ianto now behind the wheel.
“He’s heading towards Newport Road,” Tosh reported as Jack slipped into the passenger seat.
“All we have to do is tag along and keep out of sight,” Jack said with a satisfied smile. He glanced at Ianto. “We should go back to that bar sometime when we’re not tracking alien drug-dealers.”
Ianto nodded. “It’s a date.”
The End
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Jack, Ianto, Owen, Tosh, OC.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Ianto and Jack barely need to use words when working together.
Word Count: 500
Written For: Prompt 491: Gesture, at slashthedrabble.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters. They belong to the BBC.
Most people thought Jack was always larger than life, loud and brash, all wide smiles and lavish gestures, and that was true a lot of the time, but that didn’t mean subtlety was outside his repertoire. He’d been a Time Agent and a conman, and had excelled at both; he was good at drawing all attention to himself in order to provide a distraction, but equally good at deflecting attention if that was required.
Sipping his drink, Ianto allowed his gaze to wander aimlessly around the bar, passing over Jack without lingering. The gesture his lover made was so tiny and insignificant, Ianto wouldn’t even have noticed it if he hadn’t been looking for it: a brief flick of one finger. ‘That one’.
Giving a barely perceptible nod in reply, Ianto slid off the barstool, bumping into the man Jack had indicated, jostling him and spilling his drink.
“Oops, sorry! Wasn’t watchin’ where I was going,” he slurred as if drunk. Grabbing a paper serviette off the bar, he patted ineffectually at the man’s shirt, at the same time deftly dropping a tiny tracking chip into his breast pocket. “Lemme buy you another drink.”
The man made an impatient gesture, brushing Ianto’s hand away. “No, it’s fine, I was just leaving anyway.”
Ianto raised his hands in mock surrender. “If you’re sure.”
“I am.” Pushing past him, the man wended his way through the packed bar towards the door.
Jack joined Ianto at the bar, pushing in beside him. “Okay?” he whispered, signalling the bartender for another water.
“Yep,” Ianto replied, just as quietly, draining his glass before making his way unsteadily towards the back of the bar and the door leading to the bathrooms and a rear exit.
Pulling his Bluetooth from his pocket along with his wallet, Jack paid the bartender, then with his elbow on the bar, slipped the earpiece into place on the pretext of resting his head on his hand as he sipped from his glass.
“Owen, tell Tosh he’s tagged and on the move. Ianto’s on his way out. Pick me up out front in two minutes.”
“Will do.”
Removing the earpiece again, Jack drank the rest of his water, sucked on the slice of lemon that had been in it, and dropped it back in the glass with one hand while tucking the earpiece back in his pocket with the other. Unnecessary misdirection in a bar so crammed with tipsy people, but it didn’t hurt to keep in practice.
Jack sauntered unhurriedly towards the door and stepped out onto the pavement just as the SUV cruised to a halt, a completely sober Ianto now behind the wheel.
“He’s heading towards Newport Road,” Tosh reported as Jack slipped into the passenger seat.
“All we have to do is tag along and keep out of sight,” Jack said with a satisfied smile. He glanced at Ianto. “We should go back to that bar sometime when we’re not tracking alien drug-dealers.”
Ianto nodded. “It’s a date.”
The End