Don’t bet on it
Title:- Don’t bet on it
Characters/Pairings:- Jack/Ianto
Rating:- Suitable for all
Word count:- approx. 2300
Summary:- Has Jack gone a step too far in his relationship with Ianto?
Disclaimer:- Property of BBC, RTD and others, not me.
oOo
“It’s in my office,” Jack called up to him as he and Gwen ran towards the Hub garage. “The thing we were talking about,” he added cryptically.
Ianto looked up and saw Gwen cast a curious glance at her boss.
“Make yourself comfy,” Jack continued, “and I’ll be back as soon as possible.”
Ianto sighed, he had been hoping to get home soon for a long soak in a hot bath and an early night, and then got back to work.
It took Ianto about another half an hour to finish cleaning up around the Hub. How can two people make so much mess in the course of one day? he wondered, not for the first time. He did not count himself, he at least made an attempt to clean up after himself, unlike Jack and Gwen. By the time he wandered into Jack’s office, mug of coffee in hand, to wait for his lover, he was feeling tired and a bit cranky. The cold he had been harbouring for the last week or so was still having an effect. Automatically, before sitting down, Ianto’s eyes swept the office for anything that was out of place, anything that needed to be tidied away. As his gaze came to rest on the top of Jack’s desk what he saw nearly made him drop his coffee. He reached down to rub the soft red fabric between his fingers, his face screwed up in distaste. This is what Jack thinks is fun? This is his idea of sexy dressing up? Ianto thought in horror. He had done things with Jack, allowed Jack to do things to him, that he would never have thought he would have done, ever. And he had enjoyed them. But this was a step, no, a thousand steps too far.
Slamming his coffee mug down on the desk, Ianto turned on his heel and stalked from the office, up the stairs and out through the fake Tourist Office, pausing only to ensure the Hub was secure behind him.
oOo
“Ianto, Ianto, wherefore art thou, Ianto?” Jack called in his poshest English voice, the one that always made Ianto smirk as he tried to hold back his laughter at how ridiculous Jack sounded. He looked around the Hub curiously as he got no response apart from Myfanwy’s creaking cry from the upper levels.
“Ianto?” he called again, glancing over towards the coffee machine before heading up to his office. Seeing Ianto was not in there he quickly checked his little room under his office but there was still no sign of his lover. Wondering where to check next, Jack moved over to his desk. He was about to sit down when he noticed the mug of cold coffee on the desk surrounded by a puddle where the contents had slopped out onto the surface when it had been put down with not inconsiderable force. He looked around in confusion then looked properly at what was lying on the desk.
“Shit,” he swore as he recalled his parting comments to Ianto. It’s in my office, the thing we were talking about. Hoping against hope he was wrong, Jack called up the internal CCTV footage for the time he and Gwen were out. After a moment or two he found the right time frame. Horrified, he watched as Ianto came into the office and, seeing the clothes on the desk, slammed his mug down and left. A few further keystrokes and the computers confirmed that Ianto was no longer in the building.
Grabbing his coat and the keys to the SUV, Jack swept out of the Hub and headed towards Ianto’s flat.
oOo
Jack was almost within sight of Ianto’s flat when he received a call on his mobile about a Weevil that had come to the surface.
“Shit,” he swore as he turned the vehicle back towards the city centre, knowing that both Ianto and Gwen would have their phones switched off as he had given them the night off. “One of these days I’ll learn not to give them all the same night off,” he moaned.
oOo
Three hours later, a tired and battered Jack returned to the main area of the Hub having herded what had turned out to be three Weevils into the vaults. Collapsing on the sofa behind Gwen’s terminal Jack closed his eyes. “Just five minutes,” he muttered. “Then I’ll head over to Ianto’s and sort out this mess,” he continued, his voice becoming slurred as exhaustion overtook him.
oOo
Jack awoke to the smell of coffee. Blearily he looked around him, his eyes falling on the mug of coffee on the table in front of him. Forgiven, he sighed happily, reaching out for the mug. His face contorted in disgust as the coffee registered on his tastebuds. Instant, decaff and no sugar, he thought. Okay, so maybe I’m not forgiven but at least Ianto is in the building somewhere.
Stiff after his sleep on the couch Jack levered himself upright and used Gwen’s computer to log on to the Hub internal CCTV. Flicking between the different cameras he was unable to locate Ianto. Unthinking, he took another sip of the coffee. Urgh! He put the mug down on the far side of the desk in the hope he would not pick it up again. After nearly three years of Ianto’s coffee anything else just tasted horrible. He turned to the computer screens then back to the coffee. He reached out to pick up the mug and sipped cautiously. Judging by how hot the coffee was Ianto had placed the mug on the table just a couple of minutes before he woke up he guessed. If that’s the case, he considered, then there’s only two places he’s likely to go far enough away from here that he hasn’t reached there yet - the shooting range and the archives.
Without pausing for further thought Jack headed out of the main area towards the archives. As he jogged along the corridors he tried to work out what he was going to say to Ianto but the words would not come. Shrugging inwardly he decided not to plan anything and just take things as they came.
Reaching the archives Jack jogged along the ends of the long bays of shelves laden with boxes and containers of various sizes, all clearly marked with the details of their contents. So different from when Ianto arrived, Jack smiled. When Ianto had arrived the older areas of the archives were still in some semblance of order from the days when Torchwood Cardiff had a much bigger staff and fewer Rift incursions but from around the time Jack had taken over as director until Ianto had arrived the archives were in a complete mess. No one, least of all Jack, had the time or inclination to sort or label the artefacts, they were simply placed, randomly, on shelves and left there.
But here’s not here, Jack realised as he reached the far wall of the archive without any sign of Ianto. He’s been here though, Jack thought as he looked at the papers spread out on the large work desk ready to file. Looking closer he sighed at the papers, all mixed through each other rather than in the neat piles he would expect of Ianto. His concern rose a further notch when he saw the papers were not confined to the desk but had been shoved roughly off the desk onto the floor and then abandoned where they lay.
Swearing under his breath, Jack jogged back to the door of the archives and headed for the other place Ianto was likely to be - the shooting range.
In the shooting range Jack watched Ianto from the shadows. The young man’s stance was perfect, the gun held loosely but securely in his hands and his aim spot on - in short, Ianto was an expert marksman but it had taken many, many hours of practise. Jack smiled softly as he remembered how nervous Ianto had been the first time Jack had brought him here, for weapons training, soon after he relocated to Cardiff (Torchwood 1 had not seen the need for anyone a lowly as Ianto to be weapons trained). Ianto had been so nervous, so reticent to even hold a gun let alone fire it that Jack had wondered if Ianto would ever be able to hit a target. As he looked at the young man in front of him, totally focussed, in complete control, Jack thought about how much had changed between them. Despite Ianto’s obvious attraction to him in the warehouse the night they had captured Myfanwy, in those early days if anyone had told Jack how much Ianto would come to mean to him, how close they would become, he would have thought they were mad. Now, he realised, he would fight tooth and nail to hold on to what they had, to see it develop and grow into whatever future the Rift and Torchwood granted them.
The clip on his gun empty Ianto relaxed his stance and flipped the switch to bring the target automatically down the range as he reloaded. Turning slightly Ianto’s eyes widened as they caught the movement as Jack stepped out of the shadows.
Changing direction smoothly Ianto holstered the gun and began putting the ear defenders and spare ammunition away in the locker as Jack watched.
“If there’s nothing more, Sir, I’ll get back to work.”
Jack flinched slightly at the cold edge to Ianto’s voice as the younger man tried to slip past him into the corridor. Anger flashed in Jack as he grabbed Ianto’s arm, pulling him round so they were face to face. Ianto turned his head away and studied the floor, his body tense.
“Do you really think so little of me, Ianto, that you would just drop me without letting me explain?”
As Ianto turned to look at him Jack could see a flash of anger in his eyes to match his own.
“Explain what, Jack?” Ianto spat out. “That I’m your plaything, your little toy to dress up, to humiliate and then to drop when something better, more exotic, comes along?”
“I would never…”
“But you have Jack. You kissed me in front of everyone, as though I really mattered, and within minutes you were gone. You heard the Tardis’ engines and you ran. Ran to him.”
“Didn’t you hear me when I came back? I meant what I said - I came back for you, for all the team, but especially for you Ianto.” Jack raised his free hand and gently stroked Ianto’s cheek as though he could reassure the young man of his sincerity by touch alone, gratified Ianto did not turn away from the caress.
Feeling Ianto relax a little Jack loosened his grip on his arm but did not let go in case Ianto bolted.
“But why?” Ianto asked, no longer holding Jack’s gaze. “I make good coffee and look good in a suit, but that’s about it. I’m nothing special, just a regular 21st century guy. What can I offer the great Jack Harkness?”
“I don’t know Ianto,” Jack replied, softly, “I can’t put it into words. I don’t know if I’d want to even if I could in case I spooked it but I just know when I’m away from you I feel as though I’m missing something.”
“I feel the same,” Ianto confessed with a sigh, his body relaxing fully and Jack risked letting go of his arm. “When the earth was stolen there were so many other things to think about I didn’t notice too much but last night, thinking of a future without you…, it hurt,” Ianto concluded as Jack pulled him into a hug.
“I would never intentionally hurt you Ianto. You know that don’t you?” Jack said into Ianto’s hair as he held him close. “Unintentionally, unthinkingly, but never deliberately.”
Ianto’s lips quirked against Jack’s shoulder. “You’re not doing a very good sales pitch here you know.”
“But I am being honest.” Jack replied, “I will never set out to hurt you and if I do you must tell me, okay?” Jack paused. “Okay?”
“Yes,” Ianto breathed, then pulled back so he could look Jack in the eye once more. “On one condition.” Jack held his breath as Ianto paused. “You promise to do the same for me. I’m not perfect and neither of us is particularly good at talking about our feelings.”
“Deal,” Jack smiled, relieved. It was going to be okay.
oOo
Once they had spent some time making up and tidied the shooting range Jack and Ianto headed back to the main area of the Hub. Jack could feel Ianto tense beside him as he looked at Jack’s desk.
Jack reached under the clothing on the top and pulled out a carrier bag.
“That isn’t for you, this is,” he explained handing the bag to Ianto.
Ianto’s eyes lit up in pleasure as he pulled the contents from the bag.
“Gieves and Hawkes, Saville Row,” he sighed.
“16 inch collar, red of course. I promised you a special shirt to replace the one that got torn that night…” Jack’s voice trailed off, a dreamy expression on his face, as he remembered exactly how the shirt had got ripped.
Ianto reached forward and kissed Jack fiercely. Pulling back he looked over Jack’s shoulder at the offensive garment still lying on the desk.
“And that?”
Jack turned and picked up the short red and white dress and held it up against himself. “Think about it - thousands, hundreds of thousands of little girls pestering their parents for CDs, DVDs, pom poms, pencil cases, games, themed parties, everything you can think of. It’s like mind control, very subtle, very effective mind control.” Jack paused looking at Ianto’s expression, a mix of confusion and incredulity, then smiled, “I think High School Musical is the work of aliens!”
Characters/Pairings:- Jack/Ianto
Rating:- Suitable for all
Word count:- approx. 2300
Summary:- Has Jack gone a step too far in his relationship with Ianto?
Disclaimer:- Property of BBC, RTD and others, not me.
oOo
“It’s in my office,” Jack called up to him as he and Gwen ran towards the Hub garage. “The thing we were talking about,” he added cryptically.
Ianto looked up and saw Gwen cast a curious glance at her boss.
“Make yourself comfy,” Jack continued, “and I’ll be back as soon as possible.”
Ianto sighed, he had been hoping to get home soon for a long soak in a hot bath and an early night, and then got back to work.
It took Ianto about another half an hour to finish cleaning up around the Hub. How can two people make so much mess in the course of one day? he wondered, not for the first time. He did not count himself, he at least made an attempt to clean up after himself, unlike Jack and Gwen. By the time he wandered into Jack’s office, mug of coffee in hand, to wait for his lover, he was feeling tired and a bit cranky. The cold he had been harbouring for the last week or so was still having an effect. Automatically, before sitting down, Ianto’s eyes swept the office for anything that was out of place, anything that needed to be tidied away. As his gaze came to rest on the top of Jack’s desk what he saw nearly made him drop his coffee. He reached down to rub the soft red fabric between his fingers, his face screwed up in distaste. This is what Jack thinks is fun? This is his idea of sexy dressing up? Ianto thought in horror. He had done things with Jack, allowed Jack to do things to him, that he would never have thought he would have done, ever. And he had enjoyed them. But this was a step, no, a thousand steps too far.
Slamming his coffee mug down on the desk, Ianto turned on his heel and stalked from the office, up the stairs and out through the fake Tourist Office, pausing only to ensure the Hub was secure behind him.
oOo
“Ianto, Ianto, wherefore art thou, Ianto?” Jack called in his poshest English voice, the one that always made Ianto smirk as he tried to hold back his laughter at how ridiculous Jack sounded. He looked around the Hub curiously as he got no response apart from Myfanwy’s creaking cry from the upper levels.
“Ianto?” he called again, glancing over towards the coffee machine before heading up to his office. Seeing Ianto was not in there he quickly checked his little room under his office but there was still no sign of his lover. Wondering where to check next, Jack moved over to his desk. He was about to sit down when he noticed the mug of cold coffee on the desk surrounded by a puddle where the contents had slopped out onto the surface when it had been put down with not inconsiderable force. He looked around in confusion then looked properly at what was lying on the desk.
“Shit,” he swore as he recalled his parting comments to Ianto. It’s in my office, the thing we were talking about. Hoping against hope he was wrong, Jack called up the internal CCTV footage for the time he and Gwen were out. After a moment or two he found the right time frame. Horrified, he watched as Ianto came into the office and, seeing the clothes on the desk, slammed his mug down and left. A few further keystrokes and the computers confirmed that Ianto was no longer in the building.
Grabbing his coat and the keys to the SUV, Jack swept out of the Hub and headed towards Ianto’s flat.
oOo
Jack was almost within sight of Ianto’s flat when he received a call on his mobile about a Weevil that had come to the surface.
“Shit,” he swore as he turned the vehicle back towards the city centre, knowing that both Ianto and Gwen would have their phones switched off as he had given them the night off. “One of these days I’ll learn not to give them all the same night off,” he moaned.
oOo
Three hours later, a tired and battered Jack returned to the main area of the Hub having herded what had turned out to be three Weevils into the vaults. Collapsing on the sofa behind Gwen’s terminal Jack closed his eyes. “Just five minutes,” he muttered. “Then I’ll head over to Ianto’s and sort out this mess,” he continued, his voice becoming slurred as exhaustion overtook him.
oOo
Jack awoke to the smell of coffee. Blearily he looked around him, his eyes falling on the mug of coffee on the table in front of him. Forgiven, he sighed happily, reaching out for the mug. His face contorted in disgust as the coffee registered on his tastebuds. Instant, decaff and no sugar, he thought. Okay, so maybe I’m not forgiven but at least Ianto is in the building somewhere.
Stiff after his sleep on the couch Jack levered himself upright and used Gwen’s computer to log on to the Hub internal CCTV. Flicking between the different cameras he was unable to locate Ianto. Unthinking, he took another sip of the coffee. Urgh! He put the mug down on the far side of the desk in the hope he would not pick it up again. After nearly three years of Ianto’s coffee anything else just tasted horrible. He turned to the computer screens then back to the coffee. He reached out to pick up the mug and sipped cautiously. Judging by how hot the coffee was Ianto had placed the mug on the table just a couple of minutes before he woke up he guessed. If that’s the case, he considered, then there’s only two places he’s likely to go far enough away from here that he hasn’t reached there yet - the shooting range and the archives.
Without pausing for further thought Jack headed out of the main area towards the archives. As he jogged along the corridors he tried to work out what he was going to say to Ianto but the words would not come. Shrugging inwardly he decided not to plan anything and just take things as they came.
Reaching the archives Jack jogged along the ends of the long bays of shelves laden with boxes and containers of various sizes, all clearly marked with the details of their contents. So different from when Ianto arrived, Jack smiled. When Ianto had arrived the older areas of the archives were still in some semblance of order from the days when Torchwood Cardiff had a much bigger staff and fewer Rift incursions but from around the time Jack had taken over as director until Ianto had arrived the archives were in a complete mess. No one, least of all Jack, had the time or inclination to sort or label the artefacts, they were simply placed, randomly, on shelves and left there.
But here’s not here, Jack realised as he reached the far wall of the archive without any sign of Ianto. He’s been here though, Jack thought as he looked at the papers spread out on the large work desk ready to file. Looking closer he sighed at the papers, all mixed through each other rather than in the neat piles he would expect of Ianto. His concern rose a further notch when he saw the papers were not confined to the desk but had been shoved roughly off the desk onto the floor and then abandoned where they lay.
Swearing under his breath, Jack jogged back to the door of the archives and headed for the other place Ianto was likely to be - the shooting range.
In the shooting range Jack watched Ianto from the shadows. The young man’s stance was perfect, the gun held loosely but securely in his hands and his aim spot on - in short, Ianto was an expert marksman but it had taken many, many hours of practise. Jack smiled softly as he remembered how nervous Ianto had been the first time Jack had brought him here, for weapons training, soon after he relocated to Cardiff (Torchwood 1 had not seen the need for anyone a lowly as Ianto to be weapons trained). Ianto had been so nervous, so reticent to even hold a gun let alone fire it that Jack had wondered if Ianto would ever be able to hit a target. As he looked at the young man in front of him, totally focussed, in complete control, Jack thought about how much had changed between them. Despite Ianto’s obvious attraction to him in the warehouse the night they had captured Myfanwy, in those early days if anyone had told Jack how much Ianto would come to mean to him, how close they would become, he would have thought they were mad. Now, he realised, he would fight tooth and nail to hold on to what they had, to see it develop and grow into whatever future the Rift and Torchwood granted them.
The clip on his gun empty Ianto relaxed his stance and flipped the switch to bring the target automatically down the range as he reloaded. Turning slightly Ianto’s eyes widened as they caught the movement as Jack stepped out of the shadows.
Changing direction smoothly Ianto holstered the gun and began putting the ear defenders and spare ammunition away in the locker as Jack watched.
“If there’s nothing more, Sir, I’ll get back to work.”
Jack flinched slightly at the cold edge to Ianto’s voice as the younger man tried to slip past him into the corridor. Anger flashed in Jack as he grabbed Ianto’s arm, pulling him round so they were face to face. Ianto turned his head away and studied the floor, his body tense.
“Do you really think so little of me, Ianto, that you would just drop me without letting me explain?”
As Ianto turned to look at him Jack could see a flash of anger in his eyes to match his own.
“Explain what, Jack?” Ianto spat out. “That I’m your plaything, your little toy to dress up, to humiliate and then to drop when something better, more exotic, comes along?”
“I would never…”
“But you have Jack. You kissed me in front of everyone, as though I really mattered, and within minutes you were gone. You heard the Tardis’ engines and you ran. Ran to him.”
“Didn’t you hear me when I came back? I meant what I said - I came back for you, for all the team, but especially for you Ianto.” Jack raised his free hand and gently stroked Ianto’s cheek as though he could reassure the young man of his sincerity by touch alone, gratified Ianto did not turn away from the caress.
Feeling Ianto relax a little Jack loosened his grip on his arm but did not let go in case Ianto bolted.
“But why?” Ianto asked, no longer holding Jack’s gaze. “I make good coffee and look good in a suit, but that’s about it. I’m nothing special, just a regular 21st century guy. What can I offer the great Jack Harkness?”
“I don’t know Ianto,” Jack replied, softly, “I can’t put it into words. I don’t know if I’d want to even if I could in case I spooked it but I just know when I’m away from you I feel as though I’m missing something.”
“I feel the same,” Ianto confessed with a sigh, his body relaxing fully and Jack risked letting go of his arm. “When the earth was stolen there were so many other things to think about I didn’t notice too much but last night, thinking of a future without you…, it hurt,” Ianto concluded as Jack pulled him into a hug.
“I would never intentionally hurt you Ianto. You know that don’t you?” Jack said into Ianto’s hair as he held him close. “Unintentionally, unthinkingly, but never deliberately.”
Ianto’s lips quirked against Jack’s shoulder. “You’re not doing a very good sales pitch here you know.”
“But I am being honest.” Jack replied, “I will never set out to hurt you and if I do you must tell me, okay?” Jack paused. “Okay?”
“Yes,” Ianto breathed, then pulled back so he could look Jack in the eye once more. “On one condition.” Jack held his breath as Ianto paused. “You promise to do the same for me. I’m not perfect and neither of us is particularly good at talking about our feelings.”
“Deal,” Jack smiled, relieved. It was going to be okay.
oOo
Once they had spent some time making up and tidied the shooting range Jack and Ianto headed back to the main area of the Hub. Jack could feel Ianto tense beside him as he looked at Jack’s desk.
Jack reached under the clothing on the top and pulled out a carrier bag.
“That isn’t for you, this is,” he explained handing the bag to Ianto.
Ianto’s eyes lit up in pleasure as he pulled the contents from the bag.
“Gieves and Hawkes, Saville Row,” he sighed.
“16 inch collar, red of course. I promised you a special shirt to replace the one that got torn that night…” Jack’s voice trailed off, a dreamy expression on his face, as he remembered exactly how the shirt had got ripped.
Ianto reached forward and kissed Jack fiercely. Pulling back he looked over Jack’s shoulder at the offensive garment still lying on the desk.
“And that?”
Jack turned and picked up the short red and white dress and held it up against himself. “Think about it - thousands, hundreds of thousands of little girls pestering their parents for CDs, DVDs, pom poms, pencil cases, games, themed parties, everything you can think of. It’s like mind control, very subtle, very effective mind control.” Jack paused looking at Ianto’s expression, a mix of confusion and incredulity, then smiled, “I think High School Musical is the work of aliens!”