Fic - I Can Do It Without You
Title: I Can Do It Without You
Fandom: Torchwood
For set2music's prompt #1
My Set2Music Table
Summary: A longer follow-up to my Kathy/Ianto drabbles. 'See, I can do it without you' he thought, but on reflection he wasn't sure just who that 'you' was. Lisa, Jack, Torchwood? Probably all three.
I Can Do It Without You
Ianto rolled over onto his side, sheet slipping down to his hipbone, and caught sight of his well-packed rucksack and walking boots, flung into the corner of the bedroom. What the fuck had that been about? Damned if he knew. But right now he had other things on his mind. It had been eleven months, one week and three days since he'd had sex with a woman. Well no, actually it had been forty five minutes. And before that, five hours and fourteen minutes. But before that…
Well out of his league, Owen had said, even as he'd encouraged him rather crudely and loudly to agree to that first date. The next morning, Owen had pestered him, harassed him, IM-ed him relentlesly, fishing for gossip; but there hadn't been much to tell, had there? A few drinks, some gentle flirting, a great deal of work-related chat avoidance on both their parts. There had been enough of a connection, though, for Ianto to pluck up his courage and take it to the next level.
He'd thought he'd blown it that following night over dinner, choking on a mouthful of wine and sending his glass crashing to the terracotta tiles of the Italian restaurant. As their fellow diners had turned to stare, he'd been horrified, but not by his public display of clumsiness and red-faced embarrassment. His reaction would have been the same if they'd been sharing a private takeaway at home, afterall. How had she known? She'd never even seen them together, had she? But in any event, he hadn't needed to answer her question after that little display, had he?
"I'll take that as a yes, then" she'd whispered, sliding her hand over his, before insisting to the waiter that it was all her fault and could they have a fresh glass and another bottle of red. "Sorry. I really must learn to restrict my interrogations to working hours. Could be why I haven't been getting beyond first dates lately."
"Does it matter?" he'd asked hesitantly, willing the heat in his cheeks to subside. "Whether or not we…"
"Christ, no. None of my business. I swear I won't mention him again. Ever!" She'd smiled mischievously as he'd clutched at the stem of his fresh glass as if his very life had depended on it. "I'm going to have to do something pretty special to make up for this, aren't I?"
Surprise tickets to the international that Saturday had been a good start, especially as she hated rugby. She'd rather enjoyed the post-match cuddling, though, as had Ianto. It had certainly warmed them up again, after a few hours of sitting in the February chill. Or maybe the heat had been down to the kisses, tentative at first, but decidedly more enthusiastic as they'd paused in their stroll around the bay. He'd had misgivings for a moment, but only a moment, as he'd pushed her back against the railings. Owen could've been watching, perving at the CCTV footage, if it was a slow afternoon. Oh, what the fuck! Her lips were so soft and tasted so sweet. They'd only had half an hour before she'd had to go back on duty and oh god, how he'd wanted her!
It had been worth the wait, though. Another few days of text messages and stolen half hours here and there before finally their work schedules had allowed them an entire evening together. Not that Ianto worked to a schedule, of course, but Owen had proved to be uncharacteristically accommodating. "Good for you" he'd said with a leer. "Just keep your mobile close and your condoms closer."
Ianto watched intently now as she padded into the bedroom, as she let the bath-towel slip to the carpet whilst she rummaged through her rather large handbag. He knew why she'd encumbered herself with it now, of course, even though she had refused to tell him before the play, or during the interval. He'd given up after that, but the bag's secrets had been revealed soon enough. Toothbrush, toothpaste, perfume, lipstick, moisturiser, fresh panties, ID, mobile, purse, sensible shoes - well, slightly more sensible than the black strappy numbers she'd been wearing on their date, at any rate.
"Never take a bloke home the first time you have serious designs on his body" she'd gasped out between kisses as they'd stumbled through his front door well after midnight. "Go back to his place. If it all goes pear-shaped you can always up and leave. Saves the awkwardness of trying to get rid of him." She'd laughed at Ianto's affronted expression. "Not that there was ever any real danger of that with you, but old habits die hard."
Her silky-smooth shoulders still glistened from the spray of the shower, and Ianto wriggled happily beneath the sheet. He couldn't believe this was happening to him; wasn't sure he deserved it. She was gorgeous. Beautiful, intelligent, strong, opinionated, devilish sense of humour. Just… gorgeous! 'See, I can do it without you' he thought, but on reflection he wasn't sure just who that 'you' was. Lisa? Jack? Torchwood? Probably all three. But that was okay. He was proving to himself that he could move on, could rebuild his life, could overcome his losses, his sense of duty and responsibility, and actually enjoy himself again.
"Is that you or me?" she asked, glancing over to him as she continued to massage the shea butter into her skin.
"You, I'm afraid" Ianto replied with a sigh. "Couldn't you just ignore it?"
"Ianto Jones, I'm shocked!" Kathy was all mock-outrage. "Whatever happened to protecting the good citizens of Cardiff, then? Or in your case, the whole stupid world" she added with a lift of her beautifully sculpted eyebrows. "Damn it!" she muttered, slickened fingers sliding over her mobile's casing as she tried to flip it open. "Yes? DI Swanson."
Ianto gave a start as his own 'phone began to bleep, tearing his gaze away from Kathy's nipples with some difficulty as he groped around on the bedside cabinet to retrieve the annoying little object. Kathy rolled her eyes and sank down on the edge of the bed, still talking as she ran her fingers across his chest, smiling as Ianto stroked his free hand between her warm thighs.
Funny how everything could change, could turn itself inside out and upside down, in a nano-second. You'd think he'd be used to that by now, in his line of work...
The white noise suddenly filling his head drowned out Kathy's words. He slowly withdrew his hand and sat up in bed, staring wide-eyed at the brief message on the tiny screen. It was hard to focus, with his heart lurching painfully in his chest before finally establishing itself into an alarmingly rapid rhythm. He felt dizzy, disoriented. He'd tried, tried so very hard; had convinced himself that there was more to life, that he could be happy without…
"Ianto, what's wrong?"
He didn't know how long she'd been striving to make him hear her, but she sounded frightened and he hated himself for that. Swallowing hard, he forced himself to meet her anxious look. He wanted to reassure her but in all honesty he didn't think it was within his power. Two months, twenty-one days, seven hours and a handful of minutes since Ianto had last had sex with a man. But the kiss, that final kiss, the kiss that he'd rapidly come to believe was goodbye, burned inside him still.
Deathly pale and dry-mouthed, he handed Kathy his 'phone.
'He's back!'
Two little words. Two little words and everything had changed.
The door to his flat slammed shut behind her.
Fandom: Torchwood
For set2music's prompt #1
My Set2Music Table
Summary: A longer follow-up to my Kathy/Ianto drabbles. 'See, I can do it without you' he thought, but on reflection he wasn't sure just who that 'you' was. Lisa, Jack, Torchwood? Probably all three.
I Can Do It Without You
Ianto rolled over onto his side, sheet slipping down to his hipbone, and caught sight of his well-packed rucksack and walking boots, flung into the corner of the bedroom. What the fuck had that been about? Damned if he knew. But right now he had other things on his mind. It had been eleven months, one week and three days since he'd had sex with a woman. Well no, actually it had been forty five minutes. And before that, five hours and fourteen minutes. But before that…
Well out of his league, Owen had said, even as he'd encouraged him rather crudely and loudly to agree to that first date. The next morning, Owen had pestered him, harassed him, IM-ed him relentlesly, fishing for gossip; but there hadn't been much to tell, had there? A few drinks, some gentle flirting, a great deal of work-related chat avoidance on both their parts. There had been enough of a connection, though, for Ianto to pluck up his courage and take it to the next level.
He'd thought he'd blown it that following night over dinner, choking on a mouthful of wine and sending his glass crashing to the terracotta tiles of the Italian restaurant. As their fellow diners had turned to stare, he'd been horrified, but not by his public display of clumsiness and red-faced embarrassment. His reaction would have been the same if they'd been sharing a private takeaway at home, afterall. How had she known? She'd never even seen them together, had she? But in any event, he hadn't needed to answer her question after that little display, had he?
"I'll take that as a yes, then" she'd whispered, sliding her hand over his, before insisting to the waiter that it was all her fault and could they have a fresh glass and another bottle of red. "Sorry. I really must learn to restrict my interrogations to working hours. Could be why I haven't been getting beyond first dates lately."
"Does it matter?" he'd asked hesitantly, willing the heat in his cheeks to subside. "Whether or not we…"
"Christ, no. None of my business. I swear I won't mention him again. Ever!" She'd smiled mischievously as he'd clutched at the stem of his fresh glass as if his very life had depended on it. "I'm going to have to do something pretty special to make up for this, aren't I?"
Surprise tickets to the international that Saturday had been a good start, especially as she hated rugby. She'd rather enjoyed the post-match cuddling, though, as had Ianto. It had certainly warmed them up again, after a few hours of sitting in the February chill. Or maybe the heat had been down to the kisses, tentative at first, but decidedly more enthusiastic as they'd paused in their stroll around the bay. He'd had misgivings for a moment, but only a moment, as he'd pushed her back against the railings. Owen could've been watching, perving at the CCTV footage, if it was a slow afternoon. Oh, what the fuck! Her lips were so soft and tasted so sweet. They'd only had half an hour before she'd had to go back on duty and oh god, how he'd wanted her!
It had been worth the wait, though. Another few days of text messages and stolen half hours here and there before finally their work schedules had allowed them an entire evening together. Not that Ianto worked to a schedule, of course, but Owen had proved to be uncharacteristically accommodating. "Good for you" he'd said with a leer. "Just keep your mobile close and your condoms closer."
Ianto watched intently now as she padded into the bedroom, as she let the bath-towel slip to the carpet whilst she rummaged through her rather large handbag. He knew why she'd encumbered herself with it now, of course, even though she had refused to tell him before the play, or during the interval. He'd given up after that, but the bag's secrets had been revealed soon enough. Toothbrush, toothpaste, perfume, lipstick, moisturiser, fresh panties, ID, mobile, purse, sensible shoes - well, slightly more sensible than the black strappy numbers she'd been wearing on their date, at any rate.
"Never take a bloke home the first time you have serious designs on his body" she'd gasped out between kisses as they'd stumbled through his front door well after midnight. "Go back to his place. If it all goes pear-shaped you can always up and leave. Saves the awkwardness of trying to get rid of him." She'd laughed at Ianto's affronted expression. "Not that there was ever any real danger of that with you, but old habits die hard."
Her silky-smooth shoulders still glistened from the spray of the shower, and Ianto wriggled happily beneath the sheet. He couldn't believe this was happening to him; wasn't sure he deserved it. She was gorgeous. Beautiful, intelligent, strong, opinionated, devilish sense of humour. Just… gorgeous! 'See, I can do it without you' he thought, but on reflection he wasn't sure just who that 'you' was. Lisa? Jack? Torchwood? Probably all three. But that was okay. He was proving to himself that he could move on, could rebuild his life, could overcome his losses, his sense of duty and responsibility, and actually enjoy himself again.
"Is that you or me?" she asked, glancing over to him as she continued to massage the shea butter into her skin.
"You, I'm afraid" Ianto replied with a sigh. "Couldn't you just ignore it?"
"Ianto Jones, I'm shocked!" Kathy was all mock-outrage. "Whatever happened to protecting the good citizens of Cardiff, then? Or in your case, the whole stupid world" she added with a lift of her beautifully sculpted eyebrows. "Damn it!" she muttered, slickened fingers sliding over her mobile's casing as she tried to flip it open. "Yes? DI Swanson."
Ianto gave a start as his own 'phone began to bleep, tearing his gaze away from Kathy's nipples with some difficulty as he groped around on the bedside cabinet to retrieve the annoying little object. Kathy rolled her eyes and sank down on the edge of the bed, still talking as she ran her fingers across his chest, smiling as Ianto stroked his free hand between her warm thighs.
Funny how everything could change, could turn itself inside out and upside down, in a nano-second. You'd think he'd be used to that by now, in his line of work...
The white noise suddenly filling his head drowned out Kathy's words. He slowly withdrew his hand and sat up in bed, staring wide-eyed at the brief message on the tiny screen. It was hard to focus, with his heart lurching painfully in his chest before finally establishing itself into an alarmingly rapid rhythm. He felt dizzy, disoriented. He'd tried, tried so very hard; had convinced himself that there was more to life, that he could be happy without…
"Ianto, what's wrong?"
He didn't know how long she'd been striving to make him hear her, but she sounded frightened and he hated himself for that. Swallowing hard, he forced himself to meet her anxious look. He wanted to reassure her but in all honesty he didn't think it was within his power. Two months, twenty-one days, seven hours and a handful of minutes since Ianto had last had sex with a man. But the kiss, that final kiss, the kiss that he'd rapidly come to believe was goodbye, burned inside him still.
Deathly pale and dry-mouthed, he handed Kathy his 'phone.
'He's back!'
Two little words. Two little words and everything had changed.
The door to his flat slammed shut behind her.