Rambling Thoughts of a Neurotic Welshman
Yep. I think this is just gonna be a weekend thing. Because obviously since I HAVE to be asleep now... I'm gonna be awake and writing. Yep. Thats me.
So thus... more Ramblings. :) No angst this time! I know, I feel lost without it! *grins* k. I know you're not here to listen to ME ramble.. you want Yantoes. :)
disclaimers: Jack is a Ianto-thing. Both are BBC-things. But really, they're our-things.. cause we treat them better.
Rambling Thoughts of a Neurotic Welshman
Ianto giggled as he lay in the Queen bed in his flat. He didn’t know why he giggled… He should be asleep. He should’ve been asleep hours ago. He was seeing a trend here.
The bed was chilly again that night, but that’s not why Ianto giggled. Jack was out and about somewhere, doing Jack-things. Ianto didn’t really know what else to call them. They were things that Jack did, thus… Jack-things.
He smiled to himself… wondering if he was a Jack-thing… He was frequently a thing that Jack did… course, that would make Jack a Ianto-thing. The grin on his face broadened. He liked that. He liked Jack as a Ianto-thing. He made a mental note to tell Jack that one, when the bed was warmer.
Ianto had too many post-its up in his head right now. And he had just added a new one… Ianto-things. Abruptly the giggle came again.
Why was it, that when one needed to be asleep the most, it was the most evasive? He wondered. Then he asked. He got no answer, so he asked in Welsh. Then it occurred to him that no one really spoke Welsh enough anymore. He should change that… Start a Welsh-speaking campaign. He liked speaking Welsh. It was a lovely language.
Another post it note. Now… would this Welsh speaking campaign become a Ianto-thing? Hmm. That bared thinking about.
He worried slightly about the amount of post-its in his head. He was so good at cataloguing things… His head was unusually cluttered right now. He blamed Jack, as he did when anything became cluttered. It was usually Jack’s fault. That was a Jack-thing that turned into a Ianto-thing. Cluttering turning into cleaning.
Then he worried that maybe the fridge was too cluttered. Jack had been about, and maybe the fridge needed to be re-alphabetized… He frowned. Added a post-it to the mental mix. And there it went, it was Jack’s fault again. He’d have gone to the fridge and shuffled things.
He told the room at large, in Welsh, that the fridge needed to be cleaned and rearranged. There… he was well on his way with his Welsh speaking campaign. Figured he’d start at himself and then maybe move onto Rhys… Rhys was a proper Welshman… he’d join the campaign. Then wouldn’t it stop it from being a Ianto-thing? It might become a Ianto/Rhys-thing.
Ianto didn’t like the slash in that. It implied things he didn’t want to think about. So he mentally erased that particular post-it and rewrote it (in Welsh, of course) to a Thing of Ianto and Rhys. Which of course read: Peth o Ianto a Rhys. Yes the campaign was going well already… He had two members!
Now, unfortunately it was time to clean up all of those little rubber bits that happen off of the eraser… he swept up the floor in the Archives of his brain and began to slowly file the post-its away.
When Jack returned from chasing down the random Weevil that had interrupted his warm slumber, he found Ianto, smile on his face mumbling to himself in Welsh… shaking his head he placed the glass of chocolate milk he had pulled from the back of the fridge on to the bedside table and lay down, wrapping himself around Ianto, trying not to giggle as he heard a mumbled “Jack-thing” followed by a smattering of murmured vowels. And he fell asleep to the sound of Ianto’s ramblings, like music to his ears.
So thus... more Ramblings. :) No angst this time! I know, I feel lost without it! *grins* k. I know you're not here to listen to ME ramble.. you want Yantoes. :)
disclaimers: Jack is a Ianto-thing. Both are BBC-things. But really, they're our-things.. cause we treat them better.
Rambling Thoughts of a Neurotic Welshman
Ianto giggled as he lay in the Queen bed in his flat. He didn’t know why he giggled… He should be asleep. He should’ve been asleep hours ago. He was seeing a trend here.
The bed was chilly again that night, but that’s not why Ianto giggled. Jack was out and about somewhere, doing Jack-things. Ianto didn’t really know what else to call them. They were things that Jack did, thus… Jack-things.
He smiled to himself… wondering if he was a Jack-thing… He was frequently a thing that Jack did… course, that would make Jack a Ianto-thing. The grin on his face broadened. He liked that. He liked Jack as a Ianto-thing. He made a mental note to tell Jack that one, when the bed was warmer.
Ianto had too many post-its up in his head right now. And he had just added a new one… Ianto-things. Abruptly the giggle came again.
Why was it, that when one needed to be asleep the most, it was the most evasive? He wondered. Then he asked. He got no answer, so he asked in Welsh. Then it occurred to him that no one really spoke Welsh enough anymore. He should change that… Start a Welsh-speaking campaign. He liked speaking Welsh. It was a lovely language.
Another post it note. Now… would this Welsh speaking campaign become a Ianto-thing? Hmm. That bared thinking about.
He worried slightly about the amount of post-its in his head. He was so good at cataloguing things… His head was unusually cluttered right now. He blamed Jack, as he did when anything became cluttered. It was usually Jack’s fault. That was a Jack-thing that turned into a Ianto-thing. Cluttering turning into cleaning.
Then he worried that maybe the fridge was too cluttered. Jack had been about, and maybe the fridge needed to be re-alphabetized… He frowned. Added a post-it to the mental mix. And there it went, it was Jack’s fault again. He’d have gone to the fridge and shuffled things.
He told the room at large, in Welsh, that the fridge needed to be cleaned and rearranged. There… he was well on his way with his Welsh speaking campaign. Figured he’d start at himself and then maybe move onto Rhys… Rhys was a proper Welshman… he’d join the campaign. Then wouldn’t it stop it from being a Ianto-thing? It might become a Ianto/Rhys-thing.
Ianto didn’t like the slash in that. It implied things he didn’t want to think about. So he mentally erased that particular post-it and rewrote it (in Welsh, of course) to a Thing of Ianto and Rhys. Which of course read: Peth o Ianto a Rhys. Yes the campaign was going well already… He had two members!
Now, unfortunately it was time to clean up all of those little rubber bits that happen off of the eraser… he swept up the floor in the Archives of his brain and began to slowly file the post-its away.
When Jack returned from chasing down the random Weevil that had interrupted his warm slumber, he found Ianto, smile on his face mumbling to himself in Welsh… shaking his head he placed the glass of chocolate milk he had pulled from the back of the fridge on to the bedside table and lay down, wrapping himself around Ianto, trying not to giggle as he heard a mumbled “Jack-thing” followed by a smattering of murmured vowels. And he fell asleep to the sound of Ianto’s ramblings, like music to his ears.