TW-DW Fic: Interrupted
Title: Interrupted
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Eleventh Doctor, Rory, Amy, Jack.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Why is it that Ianto’s rare days off never end up being days off at all?
Word Count: 1251
Written For: Prompt 114 - Unexpected Visitors at fandomweekly.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters. They belong to the BBC.
“Don’t mind us,” the Doctor said airily. “Just carry on with whatever it was you were doing; we won’t get in your way. We just needed somewhere to stop for a bit while I make a few minor repairs. We’ll be gone in few hours, maybe a day, or possibly two. Three at most, provided I can get the parts I need.”
Ianto stood in the middle of his living room, speechless, staring at the TARDIS, which was now sitting right where his new coffee table had been a moment before. The coffee table he and Jack had bought a few days ago, to replace the one Jack had destroyed a couple of weeks earlier while chasing a wasp. He couldn’t seem to find his voice, which was perhaps understandable.
Five minutes ago, Ianto had been happily pottering around at home, wondering what he should do with the rest of his rare day off. He’d already put the laundry on and was doing a spot of cleaning while he considered his options, torn between relaxing with a good book or indulging in a James Bond movie marathon. If the weather had been halfway decent, he would have probably spent some time outside, weeding the flower beds and mowing the lawn, but it was pouring with rain, which gave him the perfect excuse to stay indoors and be self-indulgently lazy. Besides, he figured he'd earned it.
Before he could make up his mind, however, he’d heard the now familiar wheezing, grating sound of the TARDIS materialising behind him, and had turned around just in time to see the door to the Doctor’s time and space machine burst open, and three people stumble out, coughing and choking, thick black smoke billowing around them.
The two humans, who Ianto had just about been able to recognise through their liberal coating of soot as the Doctor’s companion Amy and her husband Rory, had staggered the few feet to his sofa, which was also brand new, and slumped onto it, leaving grimy smudges all over its pristine deep red fabric. The Doctor had simply waved the smoke away, for all the good that did, and turned to face Ianto with the aforementioned cheerfully unconcerned greeting.
Gathering his scattered thoughts, Ianto glared at the Doctor, hands on hips. He put up with enough messy people at work; was it too much to expect uninvited visitors to show him some respect in his own home?
“You flattened my coffee table!”
He wanted to say more, complain about the smoke that was beginning to fill the room, making his eyes water, and wrecking the tasteful décor. He was never going to get the smell out of the furniture; he’d have to completely redecorate. But the Doctor was already speaking again.
“Sorry about that, emergency landing, but I’m sure you can get a new one.”
“It WAS new, I’ve only had it three days!” Ianto waved away any reply the Doctor might have made and asked the question foremost in his mind. “Did you have to land in my living room? Couldn’t you have gone to the Hub?” If the Doctor was having mechanical problems, as he obviously was, surely it would have made more sense for him to seek the assistance of the one person who might possibly be able to help.
“Navigation’s a bit iffy right now, but Jack has a TARDIS key, so I homed in on that. Isn’t he here?”
“No. Isn’t that obvious?”
If Jack had been within hearing distance when the TARDIS materialised, he would have come running to greet his old friend.
Detouring around the Doctor and the smoking police box, Ianto opened the windows to ventilate the room, before going to open the French doors at the other end. It let the rain in, but at least the through draft should clear most of the smoke. He was going to kill Jack for leaving the TARDIS key on the end table last night. And then when he revived, he was going to kill him again!
“Oh well, my mistake. Still, no harm done!”
Ianto’s eyebrows shot up so fast they almost reached escape velocity. “No harm?” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You’ve turned my new coffee table into kindling, ruined my new sofa with soot smudges, and I have a house full of smoke! I get a day off once in a blue moon, one day to relax and enjoy myself, and now I’ll have to spend it cleaning up the mess you’ve made, as if I don’t spend enough time cleaning up after everyone at the Hub!”
“It’s not that bad.” The Doctor wiped at a smudge on the sofa with an even sootier hand, making it ten times worse. “Oops. Nothing to worry about, I’ll soon fix that.” He strode past Ianto, pulling out his sonic screwdriver as he reached for the vacuum cleaner, which was still sitting where Ianto had left it in the middle of the carpet. “You don’t need this, do you?”
“Actually, I was using that.”
The Doctor obviously wasn’t listening, already pointing his screwdriver at various parts of poor, faithful Henry, who’d never done anything to deserve such treatment.
“What are you doing to my vacuum cleaner? There’s nothing wrong with it!”
“Just a few minor improvements. I’ll soon have everything nice and clean again. Amy, Rory, you’d better stand up so I can clean you as well.” The Doctor dragged Henry the hoover around to the other side of the sofa. “Sonic cleaning is much more efficient than soap and water.”
“Uh, Doctor, vacuum cleaners don’t use soap and water,” Rory pointed out uncertainly.
“They don’t? Well, never mind, this will work better anyway.”
“Shouldn’t you be doing something about your TARDIS?” Ianto asked, looking at the blue police box where she stood on the wreckage of his coffee table, tendrils of smoke still drifting through her open door, although there was much less than there had been a few minutes earlier.
“Plenty of time for that, I’ve got to let the engines cool off a bit anyway. Now, let’s see about cleaning up this mess.”
To be fair, the enhanced vacuum cleaner did get the dirt out, even if the sofa ended up several shades lighter in random patches. While that was going on, Ianto phoned Jack to come and help with fixing the TARDIS. The sooner his unwanted visitors could leave, the happier he’d be.
“So much for relaxing; I’m destined never to get a day off,” he muttered to himself, eyeing his patchy sofa gloomily. It no longer matched the chairs, so it would have to be replaced. Again. Maybe he’d donate it as a replacement for the battered, lumpy one in the Hub. That was about all it was good for now.
A whirlwind erupted through the front door as Jack arrived, barely sparing a glance for the devastation inflicted on Ianto’s living room, or for Ianto himself.
“Doctor! What’s the problem?”
“Spot of technical trouble, nothing too serious. I think I might have overloaded a few circuits.”
As Jack vanished into the TARDIS with the Doctor, Amy, and Rory, Ianto gave a resigned sigh; that was probably the last he’d see of his lover for the next several hours at least. “The next thing they’ll be wanting is tea. Suppose I’d better put the kettle on.” Shoulders sagging, he shambled off to the kitchen. He had a feeling it was going to be a very long day.
The End
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Eleventh Doctor, Rory, Amy, Jack.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Why is it that Ianto’s rare days off never end up being days off at all?
Word Count: 1251
Written For: Prompt 114 - Unexpected Visitors at fandomweekly.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters. They belong to the BBC.
“Don’t mind us,” the Doctor said airily. “Just carry on with whatever it was you were doing; we won’t get in your way. We just needed somewhere to stop for a bit while I make a few minor repairs. We’ll be gone in few hours, maybe a day, or possibly two. Three at most, provided I can get the parts I need.”
Ianto stood in the middle of his living room, speechless, staring at the TARDIS, which was now sitting right where his new coffee table had been a moment before. The coffee table he and Jack had bought a few days ago, to replace the one Jack had destroyed a couple of weeks earlier while chasing a wasp. He couldn’t seem to find his voice, which was perhaps understandable.
Five minutes ago, Ianto had been happily pottering around at home, wondering what he should do with the rest of his rare day off. He’d already put the laundry on and was doing a spot of cleaning while he considered his options, torn between relaxing with a good book or indulging in a James Bond movie marathon. If the weather had been halfway decent, he would have probably spent some time outside, weeding the flower beds and mowing the lawn, but it was pouring with rain, which gave him the perfect excuse to stay indoors and be self-indulgently lazy. Besides, he figured he'd earned it.
Before he could make up his mind, however, he’d heard the now familiar wheezing, grating sound of the TARDIS materialising behind him, and had turned around just in time to see the door to the Doctor’s time and space machine burst open, and three people stumble out, coughing and choking, thick black smoke billowing around them.
The two humans, who Ianto had just about been able to recognise through their liberal coating of soot as the Doctor’s companion Amy and her husband Rory, had staggered the few feet to his sofa, which was also brand new, and slumped onto it, leaving grimy smudges all over its pristine deep red fabric. The Doctor had simply waved the smoke away, for all the good that did, and turned to face Ianto with the aforementioned cheerfully unconcerned greeting.
Gathering his scattered thoughts, Ianto glared at the Doctor, hands on hips. He put up with enough messy people at work; was it too much to expect uninvited visitors to show him some respect in his own home?
“You flattened my coffee table!”
He wanted to say more, complain about the smoke that was beginning to fill the room, making his eyes water, and wrecking the tasteful décor. He was never going to get the smell out of the furniture; he’d have to completely redecorate. But the Doctor was already speaking again.
“Sorry about that, emergency landing, but I’m sure you can get a new one.”
“It WAS new, I’ve only had it three days!” Ianto waved away any reply the Doctor might have made and asked the question foremost in his mind. “Did you have to land in my living room? Couldn’t you have gone to the Hub?” If the Doctor was having mechanical problems, as he obviously was, surely it would have made more sense for him to seek the assistance of the one person who might possibly be able to help.
“Navigation’s a bit iffy right now, but Jack has a TARDIS key, so I homed in on that. Isn’t he here?”
“No. Isn’t that obvious?”
If Jack had been within hearing distance when the TARDIS materialised, he would have come running to greet his old friend.
Detouring around the Doctor and the smoking police box, Ianto opened the windows to ventilate the room, before going to open the French doors at the other end. It let the rain in, but at least the through draft should clear most of the smoke. He was going to kill Jack for leaving the TARDIS key on the end table last night. And then when he revived, he was going to kill him again!
“Oh well, my mistake. Still, no harm done!”
Ianto’s eyebrows shot up so fast they almost reached escape velocity. “No harm?” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You’ve turned my new coffee table into kindling, ruined my new sofa with soot smudges, and I have a house full of smoke! I get a day off once in a blue moon, one day to relax and enjoy myself, and now I’ll have to spend it cleaning up the mess you’ve made, as if I don’t spend enough time cleaning up after everyone at the Hub!”
“It’s not that bad.” The Doctor wiped at a smudge on the sofa with an even sootier hand, making it ten times worse. “Oops. Nothing to worry about, I’ll soon fix that.” He strode past Ianto, pulling out his sonic screwdriver as he reached for the vacuum cleaner, which was still sitting where Ianto had left it in the middle of the carpet. “You don’t need this, do you?”
“Actually, I was using that.”
The Doctor obviously wasn’t listening, already pointing his screwdriver at various parts of poor, faithful Henry, who’d never done anything to deserve such treatment.
“What are you doing to my vacuum cleaner? There’s nothing wrong with it!”
“Just a few minor improvements. I’ll soon have everything nice and clean again. Amy, Rory, you’d better stand up so I can clean you as well.” The Doctor dragged Henry the hoover around to the other side of the sofa. “Sonic cleaning is much more efficient than soap and water.”
“Uh, Doctor, vacuum cleaners don’t use soap and water,” Rory pointed out uncertainly.
“They don’t? Well, never mind, this will work better anyway.”
“Shouldn’t you be doing something about your TARDIS?” Ianto asked, looking at the blue police box where she stood on the wreckage of his coffee table, tendrils of smoke still drifting through her open door, although there was much less than there had been a few minutes earlier.
“Plenty of time for that, I’ve got to let the engines cool off a bit anyway. Now, let’s see about cleaning up this mess.”
To be fair, the enhanced vacuum cleaner did get the dirt out, even if the sofa ended up several shades lighter in random patches. While that was going on, Ianto phoned Jack to come and help with fixing the TARDIS. The sooner his unwanted visitors could leave, the happier he’d be.
“So much for relaxing; I’m destined never to get a day off,” he muttered to himself, eyeing his patchy sofa gloomily. It no longer matched the chairs, so it would have to be replaced. Again. Maybe he’d donate it as a replacement for the battered, lumpy one in the Hub. That was about all it was good for now.
A whirlwind erupted through the front door as Jack arrived, barely sparing a glance for the devastation inflicted on Ianto’s living room, or for Ianto himself.
“Doctor! What’s the problem?”
“Spot of technical trouble, nothing too serious. I think I might have overloaded a few circuits.”
As Jack vanished into the TARDIS with the Doctor, Amy, and Rory, Ianto gave a resigned sigh; that was probably the last he’d see of his lover for the next several hours at least. “The next thing they’ll be wanting is tea. Suppose I’d better put the kettle on.” Shoulders sagging, he shambled off to the kitchen. He had a feeling it was going to be a very long day.
The End