December 13th
Title: The Ways to be Oblivious
Author: etharei
Spoilers: set before episode 10 ‘Out of Time’, so up to episode 9
Rating: PG-13 for language
Pairing: implied Jack/Ianto
Characters: Whole team (Myfanwy’s probably in the background somewhere, chewing on tinsel ^_^)
Summary: He stared at his chair. “Girls,” he called. Gwen and Tosh turned to look at him from their respective stations. “Which of you swapped my seat?”
Author’s Notes: This is my very first Torchwood fic, so please be nice :D And, quite predictably, I got a character I’m not particularly fond of. But let it not be said that I back down from a challenge! There’s a vague reference to the Captain’s Blog on the BBCA website, Entry 9:
Upcoming issues: We will all take shifts watching for the upcoming rift opening. We should get a few hours' warning when it's about to open.
My thanks to the person who mentioned Ianto taking the night shifts, it sparked half of the bunny for this fic! If there's enough interest, I may be persuaded to write the Ianto side of events, but that will most definitely be NC-17 ;)
♥ Season’s greetings to fandom ♥
The Ways to be Oblivious
Owen sat down with a sigh, mind on the report he had to write up on the alien autopsy he’d done the day before.
And immediately sprang back up onto his feet again.
He stared at his chair. “Girls,” he called. Gwen and Tosh turned to look at him from their respective stations. “Which of you swapped my seat?”
They simultaneously shook their heads, glancing at one another. “Why, what’s wrong with it?” asked Tosh.
“Nothing.” Owen grabbed hold of the backrest, moving it about a bit and then spinning the chair around. “At least not that I can tell. But it’s not the same chair I’ve been using since, well.” He made a vague gesture. “Since we’ve been using these chairs.”
“You can tell?” Tosh looked mildly surprised.
“If you waste enough time sitting on your chair doing nothing like he does,” said Gwen, rolling her eyes. “I’m sure you’ll be able to, as well. Owen, if there’s nothing wrong with your chair, stop whining.” Christ, start sleeping with a bird and she thinks she can mother you.
“I’m not whining.” He tentatively tapped the seat with his hand. “It just feels weird, that’s all. That chair was like an old friend.”
“I could tell, from the suspicious stain on the edge along the front,” said a voice from behind him.
“Ianto.” Hands on his hips, Owen turned to face their resident errand boy, who was holding a tray of steaming mugs. “You did this. You swapped my seat because I nicked a pen off the desk upstairs without telling you.”
“Hardly,” Ianto replied dryly. “I gave you decaf last night because you nicked a pen off the desk upstairs without telling me and messed up the filing system in the archives when you were looking for that anatomy chart for your autopsy.”
“That was not decaf.” Sure, it had tasted a little different, but he’d put it down to the smell from the dead alien messing up his senses. It did explain why he’d been so damn cranky, and fell asleep the moment he got home instead of heading out for some pre-Christmas pulling like he’d planned to. “That did not taste anything like decaf.”
“Owen, you should know better than to underestimate Ianto when it comes to coffee.” They all looked up to see Jack making his way down from his office. For some reason, he appeared to be more irritatingly cheerful than usual. “What’s the fuss, boys and girls?”
“Owen’s throwing a fit because somebody messed with his chair,” volunteered Tosh.
“Not messed with. Completely changed.” Owen patted the offending piece of furniture. “I think it’s even brand new.”
“It is.” All eyes shifted to Ianto. “I was about to say that I did change it, just not because you nicked a pen.”
“It’s my fault, really,” Jack interjected before Owen could say something. “I spilled something on your chair last night, Owen, and asked Ianto to bring up a new one from storage to replace it.”
“Couldn’t you have just cleaned it up?” asked Owen suspiciously.
“It was a corrosive agent,” Ianto elaborated as he handed Tosh her coffee. “You’re lucky that it only got on your chair. Dissolved the metal and fiber. It seemed easier to get a new chair than try to replace the damaged parts.”
“I didn’t know you were so attached to it, Owen, or I’d have been more careful,” said Jack, sincerity oozing out of him. “Sorry.”
“Yeah, right.” Owen sat down, making a face at the stiff cushion that had never felt a buttock, and the smoothness of the swivel. Looked like the chair was there to stay; better get started on breaking it in, then.
While he powered up his screen, Tosh was asking Ianto, “How did diagnostics go last night?”
Owen didn’t acknowledge the morning cup that was placed on his desk. “Nothing unexpected came up. Though the recent Rift openings slowed the program down a bit. CCTV in the Hub took an hour longer to come back on.”
The next morning, Owen made a point of coming in a little earlier than usual. This earned him surprised and wary looks from Gwen, Tosh and Jack when they saw him. He ignored it, making a show of diligently working on some paperwork by the time Ianto came around with the coffee.
Tosh was the first to get hers, and as usual immediately took a long sip. She made a startled sound.
“What?” asked Owen nonchalantly, swiveling a little to look at her. “Something wrong with the coffee?”
She was peering into her cup. “Ianto, this is-“
A short moan came from Gwen’s direction, of a kind that Owen knew all too well. “This is gorgeous!” She took another drink. “New blend, Ianto?”
Ianto somehow managed to look polite and secretive and exceedingly pleased with himself at the same time, as he place a mug on Owen’s desk. “Just my little contribution to the festive season, after you and Gwen made the effort to spruce up the Hub and the Information Center yesterday.” The girls thanked him, it was no problem, Gwen had extra decorations anyway, the coffee was a work of genius.
Leaning over Owen in order to reach the mess of pens scattered all over his station, Ianto said in a quieter voice, “Very inspired, Owen, exchanging the beans for decaf. Lucky for me, Jack could smell the difference.”
“Jack?” Owen leaned back on his chair and crossed his arms. “We finished hunting for Weevils at, what, three in the morning? What were you doing here after Jack told us all to go home?”
Ianto raised an eyebrow. “The rift opening that Jack wants us to watch out for? I’ve been on night shift all week.”
Oh, yeah. “Right.” Explained why he looked a little worn out.
Ianto shook his head and moved off. Owen watched him climb the stairs towards Jack’s office, and took an investigative sip of the coffee. Fuck, it was good. If it weren’t for the fact that he was sure Ianto would see it - the man had eyes on the back of his head sometimes - Owen would have closed his eyes and let out a sigh of bliss. He did note that Ianto was moving a little stiffly; probably fell asleep at his desk or something, the workaholic sucker.
He spun around on his chair, idly gazing at the tinsel and wreaths decorating parts of the Hub. Sometimes he wondered if there was something going on between his boss and the teaboy. Especially after the whole incident with Ianto’s cyber-girlfriend trying to kill them all, because by all accounts Ianto should have been discharged and retconned, at the very least. But no, just suspension, and it’s back to work again, everyone just try to forget about it. Yes, Jack, I’ll forget about a semi-converted metallic monster coming at me, because you ordered me to.
But then Jack had been lenient towards Tosh, too. Gwen didn’t even get so much as a rebuke, they’d all been too relieved to get her back safe, and as Jack said, sneaking out a murderer because she wanted to see her dying father was just so Gwen. Clearly Owen’s boss was a bit of a softie.
A burst of laughter from above. Owen ignored it; Jack’s been laughing more often, lately. Maybe it was a seasonal thing. Ianto returned, and for a second Owen thought he caught a glimpse of a smile and a flicker of a glance back towards Jack’s office. Huh. Teacher’s pet, that one. Harkness and Jones, with their bloody love of secrets.
Ianto collected Gwen and Tosh’s mugs, and smiled at the request for more, and those biscuits from yesterday if there were any left. Owen waved him off, his mug only half-empty, eyes now aimed at Jack’s office.
He hated it, this feeling that he was missing something right under his nose.