Those who can't write, edit. [fic]
Title: Those who can't write, edit.
Author: shadowbyrd
Rating: PG - 13
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: Sillyness. Mills and Boon extract.
Summary: Jack fancies himself a writer. Unfortunately for Ianto. Written for the Harlequin challenge at jantolution.
Disclaimer: Don't own Torchwood, or the Mills and Boon book "A Christmas Seduction" which is quoted in this fic.
Most nights Ianto sleeps like a log; once he’s out, he’s out and Jack takes great amusement from teasing him about it. Tonight he’s…restless. Fidgety. Which isn’t to say that sleep isn’t coming; it just isn’t coming easy.
Waking up again he checks the clock and lets out a small groan. Four o’clock. For God’s sake -
He rolls over, pressing his face into his pillow and groans more loudly.
“Ianto? You awake?”
Ianto grits his teeth and pulls the pillow over his head. “No.”
“You got any correction fluid?”
Ianto pulls the pillow off his head and sits up. “What?”
“Correction fluid.” Jack repeats. He’s sat on the floor, leaning back against the bed, hunched over a book. He holds up a bottle for Ianto to see and shakes it demonstratively. “This one’s empty.”
Ianto rubs his eyes with the back of his hand, trying to think. “Where did you get that one from?”
“Coffee table in the living room.” says Jack, blowing on one of the book’s pages.
Ianto frowns at him, screwing his eyes shut as he thinks. “There should be another bottle in one of the kitchen drawers.”
Jack, halfway to his feet, stops and stares. “You keep correction fluid in the kitchen?”
“Along with the string and clothespegs.” Ianto mumbles, bunching the blankets up around him, before sitting up again. “What do you want correction fluid for at this time of the morning?”
“Special project.” Jack calls from the hall.
Ianto lies down again listens to Jack thudding down the stairs and frowns. He sits up again and leans over the bed, peering down at the floor. Along with the empty bottle of correction fluid - tipped on its side, Ianto notes, letting out an annoyed sigh - is a pen and a book with a loud pink cover. Reaching down, Ianto rights the bottle and snatches up the book, switching on the bedside lamp and sitting up to read.
It’s one of Tosh’s old Mills and Boon books. Ianto shakes his head in mild disgust and starts flicking through it, hoping to come across a particularly melodramatic or lurid passage to tease Jack with.
Instead he comes across his name. And Jack’s name. Several times.
“There is just one thing.” he murmured, eyes lifting.
Laura Ianto followed his eyes and her his stomach fell away. There, tacked just above the doorway, was a bunch of mistletoe. Her His eyes widened in sudden comprehension, and shot to Quinn’s Jack’s. The blue orbs sent off glittering sparks as he neatly foiled her his attempt to back away.
“No!” she he denied, heart fluttering like a trapped butterfly.
“Yes!” he countered, taking her his mouth.
Ianto covers his eyes, unsure whether to laugh or hurl the thing at Jack’s head when he comes back. Instead he starts flipping through, trying to find one of the sex scenes.
“Hey, hold on, I’m not finished yet!” says Jack, snatching the book back, fresh bottle of correction fluid in hand.
“Tosh is going to kill you.” Ianto sing-songs, settling back down.
“Only if she doesn’t get to you first.” says Jack, putting on a pair of reading glasses and carefully whiting out a “her” he crossed out earlier.
Ianto frowns, stretching. “What d’you mean?”
Jack scoffs. “You don’t think I’d actually do something like this in my own handwriting, do you?”
Ianto just shakes his head and lies back down, intent on getting some sleep.
Around lunchtime the next day Toshiko stomps up to the TIC, book in hand and drops it on the counter in front of him.
“I know you think that these are crappy, but I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t try and edit them to make them “entertaining”.” she says, making quotation marks in the air. She turns sharply and on her heel and stalks out.
She pauses on the door and adds over her shoulder “And by the way - page 247? I don’t care how young or virile you are; you’re not that flexible.”
Ianto flicks to page 247 and grimaces, flushing hotly. Jack is going to pay for this.
Author: shadowbyrd
Rating: PG - 13
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: Sillyness. Mills and Boon extract.
Summary: Jack fancies himself a writer. Unfortunately for Ianto. Written for the Harlequin challenge at jantolution.
Disclaimer: Don't own Torchwood, or the Mills and Boon book "A Christmas Seduction" which is quoted in this fic.
Most nights Ianto sleeps like a log; once he’s out, he’s out and Jack takes great amusement from teasing him about it. Tonight he’s…restless. Fidgety. Which isn’t to say that sleep isn’t coming; it just isn’t coming easy.
Waking up again he checks the clock and lets out a small groan. Four o’clock. For God’s sake -
He rolls over, pressing his face into his pillow and groans more loudly.
“Ianto? You awake?”
Ianto grits his teeth and pulls the pillow over his head. “No.”
“You got any correction fluid?”
Ianto pulls the pillow off his head and sits up. “What?”
“Correction fluid.” Jack repeats. He’s sat on the floor, leaning back against the bed, hunched over a book. He holds up a bottle for Ianto to see and shakes it demonstratively. “This one’s empty.”
Ianto rubs his eyes with the back of his hand, trying to think. “Where did you get that one from?”
“Coffee table in the living room.” says Jack, blowing on one of the book’s pages.
Ianto frowns at him, screwing his eyes shut as he thinks. “There should be another bottle in one of the kitchen drawers.”
Jack, halfway to his feet, stops and stares. “You keep correction fluid in the kitchen?”
“Along with the string and clothespegs.” Ianto mumbles, bunching the blankets up around him, before sitting up again. “What do you want correction fluid for at this time of the morning?”
“Special project.” Jack calls from the hall.
Ianto lies down again listens to Jack thudding down the stairs and frowns. He sits up again and leans over the bed, peering down at the floor. Along with the empty bottle of correction fluid - tipped on its side, Ianto notes, letting out an annoyed sigh - is a pen and a book with a loud pink cover. Reaching down, Ianto rights the bottle and snatches up the book, switching on the bedside lamp and sitting up to read.
It’s one of Tosh’s old Mills and Boon books. Ianto shakes his head in mild disgust and starts flicking through it, hoping to come across a particularly melodramatic or lurid passage to tease Jack with.
Instead he comes across his name. And Jack’s name. Several times.
“There is just one thing.” he murmured, eyes lifting.
Laura Ianto followed his eyes and her his stomach fell away. There, tacked just above the doorway, was a bunch of mistletoe. Her His eyes widened in sudden comprehension, and shot to Quinn’s Jack’s. The blue orbs sent off glittering sparks as he neatly foiled her his attempt to back away.
“No!” she he denied, heart fluttering like a trapped butterfly.
“Yes!” he countered, taking her his mouth.
Ianto covers his eyes, unsure whether to laugh or hurl the thing at Jack’s head when he comes back. Instead he starts flipping through, trying to find one of the sex scenes.
“Hey, hold on, I’m not finished yet!” says Jack, snatching the book back, fresh bottle of correction fluid in hand.
“Tosh is going to kill you.” Ianto sing-songs, settling back down.
“Only if she doesn’t get to you first.” says Jack, putting on a pair of reading glasses and carefully whiting out a “her” he crossed out earlier.
Ianto frowns, stretching. “What d’you mean?”
Jack scoffs. “You don’t think I’d actually do something like this in my own handwriting, do you?”
Ianto just shakes his head and lies back down, intent on getting some sleep.
Around lunchtime the next day Toshiko stomps up to the TIC, book in hand and drops it on the counter in front of him.
“I know you think that these are crappy, but I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t try and edit them to make them “entertaining”.” she says, making quotation marks in the air. She turns sharply and on her heel and stalks out.
She pauses on the door and adds over her shoulder “And by the way - page 247? I don’t care how young or virile you are; you’re not that flexible.”
Ianto flicks to page 247 and grimaces, flushing hotly. Jack is going to pay for this.