Fic: A Bit Of Fun
Title: A Bit Of Fun
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Jack.
Rating: PG-15
Word Count: 2639
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Jack talks Ianto into trying out something they find in the archives.
Written For: Challenge 452: Bounce at fan_flashworks.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
They shouldn’t be doing this, Ianto thinks. Not here. Not in a section of the archives he’s barely begun to sort out, where the shelving is more than a little rickety, badly in need of some reinforcements, and everything the Rift has seen fit to dump on Cardiff between 1950 and 1959 has been bunged willy-nilly wherever it would fit. He has no idea what most of it is, and neither did the Torchwood team back then, judging by how little is labelled, so it would probably be prudent to move to a safer, or at least a less potentially hazardous, location.
But Jack is here, after the best part of a week in London, going over budgetary requirements with Her Majesty, or Lizzie as Jack prefers to call her, and filling the new Prime Minister in on exactly what he needs to know, no more and no less. Torchwood is top secret, after all, and politicians aren’t good at keeping anyone’s secrets but their own, so there’s no mention of aliens or Rifts in the PMs briefing. As far as Downing Street and the Home Office are concerned, Torchwood Three are an elite yet covert counter-terrorism unit under the aegis of the crown. It’s sort of true, in a way; true enough to get away with, at least.
Right now, none of that matters though. Jack is here, and Ianto has missed him. Jack has missed Ianto too, if the amount of kissing and groping going on is any indication. Which, Ianto feels justified in thinking it is. So, grappling with each other, hands and lips doing what they do best as they try to rid each other of inconvenient clothing as quickly as possible without actually breaking contact, they bounce off one set of shelves, making it creak ominously, then rebound across the aisle into the opposing rack with such force that Ianto knows he’s going to have some spectacular bruises.
He doesn’t care. The pain of impact doesn’t dampen his enthusiasm in the slightest, but the sudden avalanche of alien objects a few seconds later does, especially when one of them hits him painfully on the head before falling to the floor.
“Ouch!” He flinches, ducking his head and tensing up in anticipation of whatever might happen next.
“Sorry.” Jack pulls Ianto away from the shelves and to one side as things continue to fall from above, several of them bouncing and skittering away across the pitted concrete. Not that Jack’s looking their way; all his attention is on Ianto, radiating concern, which is sort of heartening, if a little surprising. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I think so. It’s a good thing the Welsh are hard-headed.” It was only a glancing blow anyway, and not especially hard. Ianto rubs the top of his head with one hand, relieved there doesn’t seem to be any real damage aside from a slight sore spot, and watches a few more bits and pieces succumb to gravity. Then silence falls, and they stare at the mess for several minutes, Ianto in pained exasperation, and Jack with a certain amount of guilt, knowing he’s to blame.
“I hope you hadn’t sorted that lot yet.”
Ianto snorts. “Does it look sorted?”
Cocking his head to one side, Jack seems to be considering the question. “Well, it’s hard to be sure, I’m not really up to date with your cataloguing system, although if that’s it, I have to say it doesn’t look very efficient. Then again, what do I know?”
Sometimes Jack makes it impossible not to laugh, even in the midst of disaster. “Twpsyn!” A smirk forms. “If that lot was sorted, it would have labels.”
“Ah, of course,” Jack says, in a serious tone. “I should’ve realised that.”
Then they’re both laughing giddily, because what else can they do?
The laughter continues until a faint sound makes Jack look up, just in time for one last item to roll off the shelves and hit him in the left eye, before bouncing away across the floor and fetching up again the main conglomeration of assorted debris. Jack claps his hand over his abused eye with an indignant “OW!”
Ianto’s own eyes go wide in horror. “Jack…”
“’s okay, I’m fine, no damage done.” Lowering his hand, Jack blinks tears from his eye. “Didn’t even hit me that hard, it’s just…”
“Right in the eye, I know. That always smarts. Did you see what it was?” Ianto winces. “Sorry, stupid question.”
Jack is already bending to retrieve the object, a rubbery, greyish green oval about the size of a duck’s egg. “Oh, I know what this is! There should be five more of them. Check to see if they’re still on the shelf, would you?”
“Uh, which shelf?” The egg thing could have come from anywhere above Jack’s head height.
“Didn’t really have time to notice before there was something in my eye.”
“Right, of course.” Ianto fetches the stepladder from the other end of the row, sets it in place, and climbs up, checking each shelf as he goes, finally finding two more eggs nestled into a dusty corner on the topmost shelf, a good twelve feet above floor level. Hooking them from their hiding place, he carries them back down, dusting off a few cobwebs before handing the curious objects to Jack. “That’s all I could find.”
“Huh. Well, the other three must be around here somewhere. We don’t really need all six, two would be enough to have a bit of fun with, or even just one, but we should probably find the others first. Better to keep them all together and avoid the risk of them accidentally causing mischief.”
That arouses Ianto’s curiosity. “Why? What do they do?”
“I’ll show you in a bit.” Jack looks around, scanning the floor for the other eggs, all the while idly bouncing the one that hit him in the eye.
Ianto isn’t sure that’s the best way to treat alien technology, or whatever it is. “Should you be doing that?”
Jack pauses, snatching the egg out of the air and gripping it lightly. “Perhaps not. Might start getting ideas before we’re ready.”
“What sort of ideas?”
The question draws a chuckle from Jack. “Ah, now that would be telling. Don’t you like surprises?”
“Not as a rule, no.”
“Well, you’re gonna like this one. I hope. Is there a box or something we can put these three in while we round up the others?”
“Let me see.” Rummaging around in his cataloguing supplies, Ianto finds a shallow plastic tray. “Will this do for now? I’ll find something better later. Maybe an eggbox.”
“As long as it keeps them from rolling away and getting lost again.” Jack places the three rubbery eggs on the tray, setting it gingerly on a nearby shelf, before crouching down to dig about amongst the other fallen items. Ianto takes the other side of the pile, and they quickly unearth two of the missing eggs. The sixth one proves more elusive, finally turning up under a shelf two aisles away, where it must have rolled.
“Okay,” Ianto says, putting it on the tray with the others. “You’re sure that’s all of them?”
“Positive. They all came through the Rift at the same time, back in ’78. They were in an ornate glass box, but that got broken on arrival, you know how careless the Rift is with deliveries.” Even things that aren’t broken when they enter the Rift often are by the time Torchwood retrieves them.
“So, you were going to tell me what they’re for.”
“I was. Let’s get rid of the rest of the team first, shall we? It’s getting late, and when I got in, Tosh said it looked like things would be quiet for at least the rest of the day.”
“Late? And I thought I was the one who got hit on the head. It’s barely two in the afternoon!”
“That’s late enough. The others can take the afternoon off, and so will we.”
“Shouldn’t I clean up this mess first?” Ianto frowns at the items scattered across the concrete, hoping none of them are dangerous.
“Why? It’s not going anywhere.”
“Not without my help,” Ianto agrees.
“Besides, we were just getting warmed up when we were so rudely interrupted, and now we have these!” Jack picks up the tray.
“Your mysterious bouncing eggs.” Ianto eyes the six ovoids curiously.
“Oh, they are so much more than they appear. Trust me. The bouncing is sort of a safety feature, so they don’t break if they’re dropped, which can happen when they’re beginning to take effect.”
“Well, that’s certainly enlightening!” From Ianto’s tone, it’s clear he means the exact opposite.
“Put the sarcasm away, Mister Jones, you won’t need it.” Jack grins, clearly amused about something. “Tell me, have you ever wondered what it would be like to have, oh, say, tentacles?” Jack is a man who knows what he likes, and tentacles have always been high on the list.
“Tentacles?” Ianto raises an eyebrow. “No, I think I can safely say I never have.”
“How would you like to find out?”
Slowly, Ianto’s second eyebrow joins the first, hovering uncertainly just below his hairline. “Is that what those things do, give people tentacles?”
“They can, although they’re not limited to that. They can change almost any physical characteristic you can think of, I’m just using tentacles as a convenient example.”
“You’re the only person I’ve ever met who would consider tentacles convenient.”
“Oh yeah, you wouldn’t believe how convenient they can be.” Jack’s smile widens.
“How do they work? The eggs, not the tentacles.” Ianto doesn’t want Jack getting off track, at least not yet. “I’m not seeing any buttons or other controls.”
“That’s because controls aren’t needed. Not the physical kind, anyway. They operate on a psychic level, latching on to strong thoughts, so a certain amount of care is required during handling. If you don’t want them to do anything, it’s best to keep your mind clear of specific thoughts.”
“Right, I’ll keep that in mind.” Ianto wishes Jack had seen fit to impart that little nugget of information sooner. He doesn’t even remember what he was thinking when he was handling them.
“Wise decision.” Jack nods approvingly; Ianto has always been a quick learner. “No one knew what they were when they were brought back to the Hub. I would have warned them if I’d been here, but I was out on other business, and by the time I got back…” He chuckles, remembering. “Lawrence, he was the team’s medic back then, was playing around with one, using it like a stress ball. He almost made himself boneless. It caused a bit of a panic.”
“Understandable. I should think something like that would prove alarming.”
“Most humans don’t have the psychic control to direct the devices,” Jack explains. “They can trigger transformations, alter themselves, but not reverse the effects, so they just have to wait until whatever they’ve done wears off.”
“And how long does that take?”
“A day or so, two at the most. There are built in safety features, the devices won’t do anything that could cause permanent physical harm, but anyone who doesn’t have full control over them… Well, some alterations could get a bit uncomfortable, like if you decided you wanted your arms to be ten feet long for some reason. Might be fun to start with, but after a bit…”
“Yes, I get the picture. And you want to play with them?”
“Calm down! Anyone would think you didn’t trust me. I’m from the fifty-first century, plus I’ve had Time Agency training. Psychic abilities will be a lot stronger in humans a few thousand years into the future than they are now, so there’s nothing for you to worry about. I can control them. Played with them quite a bit back then, until the boss confiscated and hid them. Got tired of me giving myself extra hands, eyes, whatever, but he finally ran out of patience after I gave him a second head. It was an April Fool’s Day prank, everyone thought it was hilarious watching him arguing with himself, but he didn’t take it too well. No sense of humour.”
“Can’t say I blame him.”
“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t do that to you, not even as a joke,” Jack assures his lover. “Doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun though. Or does it?”
“Depends. Why are you so set on tentacles?”
“Because I happen to like them, and I think you’d enjoy them too, given the opportunity. Which we have available right here.” Jack indicates the innocuous looking eggs. “If you’re interested.”
“Tentacles instead of what, though?” Ianto always prefers to get the details sorted before trying something new.
“Doesn’t have to be instead of anything, it could just as easily be as well as. All your regular parts, plus a few tentacles, half a dozen each. What d’you say?”
Ianto thinks back over Jack’s many and varied tales of sexual encounters with tentacled aliens, always described with a great deal of enthusiasm, and maybe it’s a bad idea, but he can’t help but feel tempted. Having tentacles for a few hours could be interesting… Just to see why Jack is so obsessed with them.
“Well, alright, I suppose we could try it, but if I don’t like it…”
“I’ll reverse the effects right away, I swear,” Jack promises. “But I won’t need to, because you’re gonna love it!” He’s practically bouncing with eagerness by now.
“Right, I’ll take these.” Ianto whisks the tray of egg-shaped devices out of Jack’s hands. “Don’t want you starting without me. You go send the others home and I’ll join you in your quarters in a few minutes.”
“Not there.” Jack’s shaking his head. “It’s too cramped. The exercise room. Trust me, we’ll need plenty of space to make the most of our extra… appendages.” Somehow, Jack manages to make that last word sound utterly filthy and Ianto shivers in delicious anticipation. He keeps his voice steady though.
“Fine, I’ll go spread out the exercise mats.” It won’t be the first time they’ve used that room for something other than practising hand-to-hand combat techniques. “Meet you there in ten minutes.”
“You won’t regret it!” Jack heads out of the archives, hurdling the pile of artefacts and narrowly avoiding landing on one, making Ianto flinch.
“Watch where you’re putting your big feet, will you?” he huffs in annoyance, but Jack is already out of sight, and probably wasn’t listening anyway, his head full of ideas featuring Ianto and a multitude of tentacles.
Ianto hopes his lover is right and he won’t wind up regretting this indulgence; he really should have learned by now not to let Jack talk him into things against his better judgement. If not for the unintentional avalanche, they would have been indulging in some enthusiastic and perfectly normal welcome home sex by now, so whatever they do with the aid of the psychic eggs will need to be pretty spectacular to make up for the delay, not to mention the sore spot on his head.
He resolutely turns his back on the mess, hoping that nothing is liable to explode, or do anything equally catastrophic in his absence. Of course, anything truly dangerous ought to be filed away in the secure archives, but he’s uncomfortably aware that a woefully large percentage of Rift arrivals have yet to be identified. Then again, if the world should end while he and Jack are indulging in some afternoon delight, there are worse ways to go.
Smiling, Ianto makes his way out of the archives and along the passageway leading to the training room to get everything ready for their… recreational activities. If nothing else, this should prove educational.
The End
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Jack.
Rating: PG-15
Word Count: 2639
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Jack talks Ianto into trying out something they find in the archives.
Written For: Challenge 452: Bounce at fan_flashworks.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
They shouldn’t be doing this, Ianto thinks. Not here. Not in a section of the archives he’s barely begun to sort out, where the shelving is more than a little rickety, badly in need of some reinforcements, and everything the Rift has seen fit to dump on Cardiff between 1950 and 1959 has been bunged willy-nilly wherever it would fit. He has no idea what most of it is, and neither did the Torchwood team back then, judging by how little is labelled, so it would probably be prudent to move to a safer, or at least a less potentially hazardous, location.
But Jack is here, after the best part of a week in London, going over budgetary requirements with Her Majesty, or Lizzie as Jack prefers to call her, and filling the new Prime Minister in on exactly what he needs to know, no more and no less. Torchwood is top secret, after all, and politicians aren’t good at keeping anyone’s secrets but their own, so there’s no mention of aliens or Rifts in the PMs briefing. As far as Downing Street and the Home Office are concerned, Torchwood Three are an elite yet covert counter-terrorism unit under the aegis of the crown. It’s sort of true, in a way; true enough to get away with, at least.
Right now, none of that matters though. Jack is here, and Ianto has missed him. Jack has missed Ianto too, if the amount of kissing and groping going on is any indication. Which, Ianto feels justified in thinking it is. So, grappling with each other, hands and lips doing what they do best as they try to rid each other of inconvenient clothing as quickly as possible without actually breaking contact, they bounce off one set of shelves, making it creak ominously, then rebound across the aisle into the opposing rack with such force that Ianto knows he’s going to have some spectacular bruises.
He doesn’t care. The pain of impact doesn’t dampen his enthusiasm in the slightest, but the sudden avalanche of alien objects a few seconds later does, especially when one of them hits him painfully on the head before falling to the floor.
“Ouch!” He flinches, ducking his head and tensing up in anticipation of whatever might happen next.
“Sorry.” Jack pulls Ianto away from the shelves and to one side as things continue to fall from above, several of them bouncing and skittering away across the pitted concrete. Not that Jack’s looking their way; all his attention is on Ianto, radiating concern, which is sort of heartening, if a little surprising. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I think so. It’s a good thing the Welsh are hard-headed.” It was only a glancing blow anyway, and not especially hard. Ianto rubs the top of his head with one hand, relieved there doesn’t seem to be any real damage aside from a slight sore spot, and watches a few more bits and pieces succumb to gravity. Then silence falls, and they stare at the mess for several minutes, Ianto in pained exasperation, and Jack with a certain amount of guilt, knowing he’s to blame.
“I hope you hadn’t sorted that lot yet.”
Ianto snorts. “Does it look sorted?”
Cocking his head to one side, Jack seems to be considering the question. “Well, it’s hard to be sure, I’m not really up to date with your cataloguing system, although if that’s it, I have to say it doesn’t look very efficient. Then again, what do I know?”
Sometimes Jack makes it impossible not to laugh, even in the midst of disaster. “Twpsyn!” A smirk forms. “If that lot was sorted, it would have labels.”
“Ah, of course,” Jack says, in a serious tone. “I should’ve realised that.”
Then they’re both laughing giddily, because what else can they do?
The laughter continues until a faint sound makes Jack look up, just in time for one last item to roll off the shelves and hit him in the left eye, before bouncing away across the floor and fetching up again the main conglomeration of assorted debris. Jack claps his hand over his abused eye with an indignant “OW!”
Ianto’s own eyes go wide in horror. “Jack…”
“’s okay, I’m fine, no damage done.” Lowering his hand, Jack blinks tears from his eye. “Didn’t even hit me that hard, it’s just…”
“Right in the eye, I know. That always smarts. Did you see what it was?” Ianto winces. “Sorry, stupid question.”
Jack is already bending to retrieve the object, a rubbery, greyish green oval about the size of a duck’s egg. “Oh, I know what this is! There should be five more of them. Check to see if they’re still on the shelf, would you?”
“Uh, which shelf?” The egg thing could have come from anywhere above Jack’s head height.
“Didn’t really have time to notice before there was something in my eye.”
“Right, of course.” Ianto fetches the stepladder from the other end of the row, sets it in place, and climbs up, checking each shelf as he goes, finally finding two more eggs nestled into a dusty corner on the topmost shelf, a good twelve feet above floor level. Hooking them from their hiding place, he carries them back down, dusting off a few cobwebs before handing the curious objects to Jack. “That’s all I could find.”
“Huh. Well, the other three must be around here somewhere. We don’t really need all six, two would be enough to have a bit of fun with, or even just one, but we should probably find the others first. Better to keep them all together and avoid the risk of them accidentally causing mischief.”
That arouses Ianto’s curiosity. “Why? What do they do?”
“I’ll show you in a bit.” Jack looks around, scanning the floor for the other eggs, all the while idly bouncing the one that hit him in the eye.
Ianto isn’t sure that’s the best way to treat alien technology, or whatever it is. “Should you be doing that?”
Jack pauses, snatching the egg out of the air and gripping it lightly. “Perhaps not. Might start getting ideas before we’re ready.”
“What sort of ideas?”
The question draws a chuckle from Jack. “Ah, now that would be telling. Don’t you like surprises?”
“Not as a rule, no.”
“Well, you’re gonna like this one. I hope. Is there a box or something we can put these three in while we round up the others?”
“Let me see.” Rummaging around in his cataloguing supplies, Ianto finds a shallow plastic tray. “Will this do for now? I’ll find something better later. Maybe an eggbox.”
“As long as it keeps them from rolling away and getting lost again.” Jack places the three rubbery eggs on the tray, setting it gingerly on a nearby shelf, before crouching down to dig about amongst the other fallen items. Ianto takes the other side of the pile, and they quickly unearth two of the missing eggs. The sixth one proves more elusive, finally turning up under a shelf two aisles away, where it must have rolled.
“Okay,” Ianto says, putting it on the tray with the others. “You’re sure that’s all of them?”
“Positive. They all came through the Rift at the same time, back in ’78. They were in an ornate glass box, but that got broken on arrival, you know how careless the Rift is with deliveries.” Even things that aren’t broken when they enter the Rift often are by the time Torchwood retrieves them.
“So, you were going to tell me what they’re for.”
“I was. Let’s get rid of the rest of the team first, shall we? It’s getting late, and when I got in, Tosh said it looked like things would be quiet for at least the rest of the day.”
“Late? And I thought I was the one who got hit on the head. It’s barely two in the afternoon!”
“That’s late enough. The others can take the afternoon off, and so will we.”
“Shouldn’t I clean up this mess first?” Ianto frowns at the items scattered across the concrete, hoping none of them are dangerous.
“Why? It’s not going anywhere.”
“Not without my help,” Ianto agrees.
“Besides, we were just getting warmed up when we were so rudely interrupted, and now we have these!” Jack picks up the tray.
“Your mysterious bouncing eggs.” Ianto eyes the six ovoids curiously.
“Oh, they are so much more than they appear. Trust me. The bouncing is sort of a safety feature, so they don’t break if they’re dropped, which can happen when they’re beginning to take effect.”
“Well, that’s certainly enlightening!” From Ianto’s tone, it’s clear he means the exact opposite.
“Put the sarcasm away, Mister Jones, you won’t need it.” Jack grins, clearly amused about something. “Tell me, have you ever wondered what it would be like to have, oh, say, tentacles?” Jack is a man who knows what he likes, and tentacles have always been high on the list.
“Tentacles?” Ianto raises an eyebrow. “No, I think I can safely say I never have.”
“How would you like to find out?”
Slowly, Ianto’s second eyebrow joins the first, hovering uncertainly just below his hairline. “Is that what those things do, give people tentacles?”
“They can, although they’re not limited to that. They can change almost any physical characteristic you can think of, I’m just using tentacles as a convenient example.”
“You’re the only person I’ve ever met who would consider tentacles convenient.”
“Oh yeah, you wouldn’t believe how convenient they can be.” Jack’s smile widens.
“How do they work? The eggs, not the tentacles.” Ianto doesn’t want Jack getting off track, at least not yet. “I’m not seeing any buttons or other controls.”
“That’s because controls aren’t needed. Not the physical kind, anyway. They operate on a psychic level, latching on to strong thoughts, so a certain amount of care is required during handling. If you don’t want them to do anything, it’s best to keep your mind clear of specific thoughts.”
“Right, I’ll keep that in mind.” Ianto wishes Jack had seen fit to impart that little nugget of information sooner. He doesn’t even remember what he was thinking when he was handling them.
“Wise decision.” Jack nods approvingly; Ianto has always been a quick learner. “No one knew what they were when they were brought back to the Hub. I would have warned them if I’d been here, but I was out on other business, and by the time I got back…” He chuckles, remembering. “Lawrence, he was the team’s medic back then, was playing around with one, using it like a stress ball. He almost made himself boneless. It caused a bit of a panic.”
“Understandable. I should think something like that would prove alarming.”
“Most humans don’t have the psychic control to direct the devices,” Jack explains. “They can trigger transformations, alter themselves, but not reverse the effects, so they just have to wait until whatever they’ve done wears off.”
“And how long does that take?”
“A day or so, two at the most. There are built in safety features, the devices won’t do anything that could cause permanent physical harm, but anyone who doesn’t have full control over them… Well, some alterations could get a bit uncomfortable, like if you decided you wanted your arms to be ten feet long for some reason. Might be fun to start with, but after a bit…”
“Yes, I get the picture. And you want to play with them?”
“Calm down! Anyone would think you didn’t trust me. I’m from the fifty-first century, plus I’ve had Time Agency training. Psychic abilities will be a lot stronger in humans a few thousand years into the future than they are now, so there’s nothing for you to worry about. I can control them. Played with them quite a bit back then, until the boss confiscated and hid them. Got tired of me giving myself extra hands, eyes, whatever, but he finally ran out of patience after I gave him a second head. It was an April Fool’s Day prank, everyone thought it was hilarious watching him arguing with himself, but he didn’t take it too well. No sense of humour.”
“Can’t say I blame him.”
“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t do that to you, not even as a joke,” Jack assures his lover. “Doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun though. Or does it?”
“Depends. Why are you so set on tentacles?”
“Because I happen to like them, and I think you’d enjoy them too, given the opportunity. Which we have available right here.” Jack indicates the innocuous looking eggs. “If you’re interested.”
“Tentacles instead of what, though?” Ianto always prefers to get the details sorted before trying something new.
“Doesn’t have to be instead of anything, it could just as easily be as well as. All your regular parts, plus a few tentacles, half a dozen each. What d’you say?”
Ianto thinks back over Jack’s many and varied tales of sexual encounters with tentacled aliens, always described with a great deal of enthusiasm, and maybe it’s a bad idea, but he can’t help but feel tempted. Having tentacles for a few hours could be interesting… Just to see why Jack is so obsessed with them.
“Well, alright, I suppose we could try it, but if I don’t like it…”
“I’ll reverse the effects right away, I swear,” Jack promises. “But I won’t need to, because you’re gonna love it!” He’s practically bouncing with eagerness by now.
“Right, I’ll take these.” Ianto whisks the tray of egg-shaped devices out of Jack’s hands. “Don’t want you starting without me. You go send the others home and I’ll join you in your quarters in a few minutes.”
“Not there.” Jack’s shaking his head. “It’s too cramped. The exercise room. Trust me, we’ll need plenty of space to make the most of our extra… appendages.” Somehow, Jack manages to make that last word sound utterly filthy and Ianto shivers in delicious anticipation. He keeps his voice steady though.
“Fine, I’ll go spread out the exercise mats.” It won’t be the first time they’ve used that room for something other than practising hand-to-hand combat techniques. “Meet you there in ten minutes.”
“You won’t regret it!” Jack heads out of the archives, hurdling the pile of artefacts and narrowly avoiding landing on one, making Ianto flinch.
“Watch where you’re putting your big feet, will you?” he huffs in annoyance, but Jack is already out of sight, and probably wasn’t listening anyway, his head full of ideas featuring Ianto and a multitude of tentacles.
Ianto hopes his lover is right and he won’t wind up regretting this indulgence; he really should have learned by now not to let Jack talk him into things against his better judgement. If not for the unintentional avalanche, they would have been indulging in some enthusiastic and perfectly normal welcome home sex by now, so whatever they do with the aid of the psychic eggs will need to be pretty spectacular to make up for the delay, not to mention the sore spot on his head.
He resolutely turns his back on the mess, hoping that nothing is liable to explode, or do anything equally catastrophic in his absence. Of course, anything truly dangerous ought to be filed away in the secure archives, but he’s uncomfortably aware that a woefully large percentage of Rift arrivals have yet to be identified. Then again, if the world should end while he and Jack are indulging in some afternoon delight, there are worse ways to go.
Smiling, Ianto makes his way out of the archives and along the passageway leading to the training room to get everything ready for their… recreational activities. If nothing else, this should prove educational.
The End