Fic: Pilot 3/5 - 5 AU Iantos
Warning: This is not a happy fic.
Title: Pilot
Author: Lopaka Tanu
Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood.
Characters: Ianto, Jack, Owen.
Words: 1325
Prompt: 5 Professions Ianto Never Had
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairing: Owen/Ianto
Rating: Adult
Warnings: Language, Violence, Mention of Partner Betrayal, Threatening Ianto.
Summary: Ianto is the pilot of a plane that disappeared December 17, 1953.
Author's Note: Based upon the episode 'Out of Time' Torchwod: 1x10.
Theme Music: Lullaby - Lamb
______________________________________
"You'll have to forgive Owen, he barely qualifies as Human on his best days." Leaning back against the doorway to the Hub's kitchen, Jack cast a quick glance about the interior. Ianto had certainly made himself at home in the four days he had been employed once more by Torchwood.
Debating slamming the cabinet shut, Ianto forced himself to carefully close so that it made no sound. As he spun to cross the small kitchen, he deliberately sank his eyes to the floor to avoid looking at the older man. "I can handle Mr. Harper just fine, sir."
"Sir." Jack heaved a dreamy sigh as he let his eyes roll skywards. "I love it when you use that official tone. I always have."
"Is there something you need?" Undoing the one holed button on his waist coat, Ianto knelt down in front of another cabinet. Shuffling through the pans, he pulled out an old stove top kettle. He barely gave the other metal dishes a passing glance. Whatever they had been used for, they had never been cleaned of and would take a good scouring to come clean.
Frowning, Jack crossed his arms. "You know, this isn't very fun if you don't at least try to participate."
"Forgive me, but I am rather terribly busy at the moment. If you wish to discuss proper decorum at another time, I would be happy to oblige." After filling the kettle with water, Ianto set it to boil on the stove. He had cleared himself on its use the day before. It had been very easy to figure out, labeled ever so helpfully. Setting it to boil, he dried off his hands on a dish towel next to the sink.
"You don't have to do this. We have Leslie to do all our cleaning." Growing annoyed, Jack pushed off from his post. He crossed the three paces that separated him and Ianto. Grabbing the other man by the arm, he spun him until they were face to face. "Talk to me, damn it!"
"There is nothing to discuss, sir." Ianto punctuated the last word with a slight hiss. Refusing to meet his boss' stare, he focused on the other man's chin. "I suggest you unhand me this instant, else I might be forced to take action."
"Oh?" Jack grinned, raising his eyebrows in challenge. The next instant he was forced back a step as Ianto's fist was planted in his gut. Groaning from pain and having the breath forcibly driven from his body, he desperately clutched at the counter top to stay standing.
Ianto started to step around Jack, but the man's arm shot out and grabbed his sleeve. He squeezed Jack's fingers together until they released. Leaning down to Jack's ear, he twisted his hand up behind his back. "Do not ever presume upon my person again, Captain Harkness." Shoving Jack away, he stormed out of the kitchen.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nursing a bruised gut, Jack swished his chair from side to side. It would be another hour or so before the damage was healed within tolerable limits. Until then, he kept his feet propped up on his desk and his head thrown back. Who knew Ianto Jones had such a mean punch?
He was half asleep when his door flew open. As the blinds shook against the glass, he wished he hadn't let Suzie talk him in to having it installed. That had been a long and bloody argument that had ended with him pinned to the floor under her boots. But they had been such lovely boots.
Jack cracked open an eye to see who dared barge in to his office. He almost regretted doing so with the sight of a near irate Owen standing at this desk, clenching his fists. "What now?"
"Stay the fuck away from the Flyboy!" Slamming his fist down on Jack's desk, he knocked over several knickknacks he found there from the vibration. Owen didn't care. He was near livid and if Jack wanted to do something about it, he was more than willing to handle it. "You will not look at him, you will not speak to him, you will not even acknowledge his existence. Am I making myself clear?"
Taking in the doctor's state of near murderous rage, Jack snorted. "Since when were you promoted to head of Torchwood? I'm sure Suzie and the others will have something to say about it."
"Since you couldn't keep your bloody mits to yourself around what is mine! And I couldn't care less what the others think." He slammed his fist on to Jack's desk again to emphasize his words. "Leave Ianto alone, he's mine and I will fight dirty to keep him."
Having had enough, Jack shoved himself out of his chair to his feet. Rising over his desk, he met Owen's stance with a mirrored one of his own. "You have no idea, Owen Harper, none! I've known him longer than you, I had him before your parents were even born. Don't tell me what I can and can not do with..."
"With what?" The politely curious tone drew both men from near blows to glaring confusion at the door. Hands folded behind his back, Ianto stood at parade rest in the doorway. "I hope this has something pertaining to Torchwood protocols or equipment. Personal matters should be handled on your own time and not in Torchwood offices."
Standing erect, Jack tugged his shirt down under the braces. He took a moment to clear his throat before facing Ianto. "Nothing going on here. What do you need?"
"There are some forms Suzie requests you sign, sir." Pulling his hand from behind him, Ianto walked a file over to Jack's desk. He carefully set the green folder down before turning his attention to Owen. "Are you through?"
Owen cast another calculating gaze over Jack before snorting. "For now." He reached over and grabbed Ianto by the ass before spinning and stomping out of Jack's office.
For his part, Ianto barely reacted to Owen's action. When Jack continued to glare through his office walls towards Owen, Ianto cleared his throat and gestured at the folder. "She needs these now, sir."
Jack remained standing a moment longer before taking a seat. Picking up his pen, he angrily pulled the folder open and began signing all the marked lines. "What happened, Ianto? We were good together, I thought we had something between us, before...," he trailed off, not wanting to mention the fifty year gap.
"Apparently appearances were deceiving, Captain Harkness." Ianto reached to grab the now closed folder off Jack's desk, but was stopped by a hand over his wrist. He looked up to stare at Jack in question.
"Talk to me. What the hell happened? For the last three days, before you disappeared, you wouldn't even so much as look at me to spit on me! Where did we go wrong?" As he spoke, Jack tightened his hold on Ianto's arm until he was squeezing it. The cool lick of metal against his neck had him swallowing and backing away slowly. As he moved back, he saw Ianto was holding a letter opener. "Do you really hate me so much?"
"You took everything from me." Leaning down until his lips were pressed against Jack's ear, Ianto snarled as he whispered. "I saw you. Tell me, Jack, was he worth it? How about the others? Munson, Jennings, Rhys-Morro, Dunlop, I can go on! All came to me, warned me what you do, not to get involved." With a growl, he slammed his fist down, leaving the tip of the letter opener imbedded deep in the desk.
Picking up the folder, Ianto jerked his hand free from Jack's grip. He composed himself to an emotionless state before he walked calmly out of Jack's office.
Standing up, Jack pressed down the front of his shirt. He walked slowly over to his office door and gently shut it.
THE END.................................
Title: Pilot
Author: Lopaka Tanu
Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood.
Characters: Ianto, Jack, Owen.
Words: 1325
Prompt: 5 Professions Ianto Never Had
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairing: Owen/Ianto
Rating: Adult
Warnings: Language, Violence, Mention of Partner Betrayal, Threatening Ianto.
Summary: Ianto is the pilot of a plane that disappeared December 17, 1953.
Author's Note: Based upon the episode 'Out of Time' Torchwod: 1x10.
Theme Music: Lullaby - Lamb
______________________________________
"You'll have to forgive Owen, he barely qualifies as Human on his best days." Leaning back against the doorway to the Hub's kitchen, Jack cast a quick glance about the interior. Ianto had certainly made himself at home in the four days he had been employed once more by Torchwood.
Debating slamming the cabinet shut, Ianto forced himself to carefully close so that it made no sound. As he spun to cross the small kitchen, he deliberately sank his eyes to the floor to avoid looking at the older man. "I can handle Mr. Harper just fine, sir."
"Sir." Jack heaved a dreamy sigh as he let his eyes roll skywards. "I love it when you use that official tone. I always have."
"Is there something you need?" Undoing the one holed button on his waist coat, Ianto knelt down in front of another cabinet. Shuffling through the pans, he pulled out an old stove top kettle. He barely gave the other metal dishes a passing glance. Whatever they had been used for, they had never been cleaned of and would take a good scouring to come clean.
Frowning, Jack crossed his arms. "You know, this isn't very fun if you don't at least try to participate."
"Forgive me, but I am rather terribly busy at the moment. If you wish to discuss proper decorum at another time, I would be happy to oblige." After filling the kettle with water, Ianto set it to boil on the stove. He had cleared himself on its use the day before. It had been very easy to figure out, labeled ever so helpfully. Setting it to boil, he dried off his hands on a dish towel next to the sink.
"You don't have to do this. We have Leslie to do all our cleaning." Growing annoyed, Jack pushed off from his post. He crossed the three paces that separated him and Ianto. Grabbing the other man by the arm, he spun him until they were face to face. "Talk to me, damn it!"
"There is nothing to discuss, sir." Ianto punctuated the last word with a slight hiss. Refusing to meet his boss' stare, he focused on the other man's chin. "I suggest you unhand me this instant, else I might be forced to take action."
"Oh?" Jack grinned, raising his eyebrows in challenge. The next instant he was forced back a step as Ianto's fist was planted in his gut. Groaning from pain and having the breath forcibly driven from his body, he desperately clutched at the counter top to stay standing.
Ianto started to step around Jack, but the man's arm shot out and grabbed his sleeve. He squeezed Jack's fingers together until they released. Leaning down to Jack's ear, he twisted his hand up behind his back. "Do not ever presume upon my person again, Captain Harkness." Shoving Jack away, he stormed out of the kitchen.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nursing a bruised gut, Jack swished his chair from side to side. It would be another hour or so before the damage was healed within tolerable limits. Until then, he kept his feet propped up on his desk and his head thrown back. Who knew Ianto Jones had such a mean punch?
He was half asleep when his door flew open. As the blinds shook against the glass, he wished he hadn't let Suzie talk him in to having it installed. That had been a long and bloody argument that had ended with him pinned to the floor under her boots. But they had been such lovely boots.
Jack cracked open an eye to see who dared barge in to his office. He almost regretted doing so with the sight of a near irate Owen standing at this desk, clenching his fists. "What now?"
"Stay the fuck away from the Flyboy!" Slamming his fist down on Jack's desk, he knocked over several knickknacks he found there from the vibration. Owen didn't care. He was near livid and if Jack wanted to do something about it, he was more than willing to handle it. "You will not look at him, you will not speak to him, you will not even acknowledge his existence. Am I making myself clear?"
Taking in the doctor's state of near murderous rage, Jack snorted. "Since when were you promoted to head of Torchwood? I'm sure Suzie and the others will have something to say about it."
"Since you couldn't keep your bloody mits to yourself around what is mine! And I couldn't care less what the others think." He slammed his fist on to Jack's desk again to emphasize his words. "Leave Ianto alone, he's mine and I will fight dirty to keep him."
Having had enough, Jack shoved himself out of his chair to his feet. Rising over his desk, he met Owen's stance with a mirrored one of his own. "You have no idea, Owen Harper, none! I've known him longer than you, I had him before your parents were even born. Don't tell me what I can and can not do with..."
"With what?" The politely curious tone drew both men from near blows to glaring confusion at the door. Hands folded behind his back, Ianto stood at parade rest in the doorway. "I hope this has something pertaining to Torchwood protocols or equipment. Personal matters should be handled on your own time and not in Torchwood offices."
Standing erect, Jack tugged his shirt down under the braces. He took a moment to clear his throat before facing Ianto. "Nothing going on here. What do you need?"
"There are some forms Suzie requests you sign, sir." Pulling his hand from behind him, Ianto walked a file over to Jack's desk. He carefully set the green folder down before turning his attention to Owen. "Are you through?"
Owen cast another calculating gaze over Jack before snorting. "For now." He reached over and grabbed Ianto by the ass before spinning and stomping out of Jack's office.
For his part, Ianto barely reacted to Owen's action. When Jack continued to glare through his office walls towards Owen, Ianto cleared his throat and gestured at the folder. "She needs these now, sir."
Jack remained standing a moment longer before taking a seat. Picking up his pen, he angrily pulled the folder open and began signing all the marked lines. "What happened, Ianto? We were good together, I thought we had something between us, before...," he trailed off, not wanting to mention the fifty year gap.
"Apparently appearances were deceiving, Captain Harkness." Ianto reached to grab the now closed folder off Jack's desk, but was stopped by a hand over his wrist. He looked up to stare at Jack in question.
"Talk to me. What the hell happened? For the last three days, before you disappeared, you wouldn't even so much as look at me to spit on me! Where did we go wrong?" As he spoke, Jack tightened his hold on Ianto's arm until he was squeezing it. The cool lick of metal against his neck had him swallowing and backing away slowly. As he moved back, he saw Ianto was holding a letter opener. "Do you really hate me so much?"
"You took everything from me." Leaning down until his lips were pressed against Jack's ear, Ianto snarled as he whispered. "I saw you. Tell me, Jack, was he worth it? How about the others? Munson, Jennings, Rhys-Morro, Dunlop, I can go on! All came to me, warned me what you do, not to get involved." With a growl, he slammed his fist down, leaving the tip of the letter opener imbedded deep in the desk.
Picking up the folder, Ianto jerked his hand free from Jack's grip. He composed himself to an emotionless state before he walked calmly out of Jack's office.
Standing up, Jack pressed down the front of his shirt. He walked slowly over to his office door and gently shut it.
THE END.................................