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antigwenallies Jan. 7th, 2008 09:11 pm)
sparklinglovers.livejournal.com posting in antigwenallies Jan. 7th, 2008 09:11 pm)Title: Pizza
Author: Me,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sparklinglovers
Disclaimer: This didn't happen, even though it would be the best thing I've ever witnessed.
Author's Notes: Prompt #040 from the Gwenbash fic table.
“And this is how we wash the floor, wash the floor, wash the floor… and this is how we wash the floor, with Gwen’s blood some mooooooore,” croons Jack, stirring away at a pot of blood-red sauce on the stove.
He turns, now facing the countertop, and picks up the pizza dough resting there. Grinning devilishly, he pulls out a thin vial, containing some eerily exciting powder, from his apron’s pocket and unscrews the cap with an enthralling ‘pop’.
“Yes,” he murmurs, carefully sprinkling the intriguing powder across the shaped dough, making sure to reach every curve, the smile never leaving his face. “We’re one step closer to being rid of the whore!”
From behind Tosh’s desk, Ianto briskly walks toward the kitchen with a smile. There’s a tray in his hands covered with two full mugs of hot chocolate and a plate of cookies. “Jack, what are you doing?”
“I’m making things right again,” he simply says, reaching for a cookie. “Ianto, do me a favor and dump the rest of this,” – he holds out the powder vial – “into the sauce on the stove.”
Ianto does as he’s told.
After the sauce finishes simmering and it’s dolloped onto the waiting dough, the pair take turns covering every inch of visible redness with cheese and slide it smoothly into the oven.
“And now we wait.”
Coming from the Torchwood morgue, Owen stumbles into the kitchen looking pissed with the world. “I smell pizza,” he says, “And I’m bloody starving.”
Jack laughs heartily. “Sorry, mate, but you can’t have any.”
“And why the fuck not?” he steams, clenching his fists. His eyes are bloodshot, and he looks as though he’s prepared to kill.
“It’s a special pizza for Gwen.”
Owen’s eye twitches as he leans up against the countertop. “It’s not like she needs it, the fat bitch.”
After about 45 minutes, the pizza is finished and, right on cue, Gwen scampers up to the kitchen from where she was hiding, no doubt doing something unproductive like counting the number of spots on the wall.
“Do I smell pizza?” she inquires, eyes large like a cat’s when they see something worth looking at. There’s drool dripping from the corner of her mouth, hitting the floor, and the three of them stare, disturbed.
“Yeah,” Owen finally says, moving out of the drool-splashing range, “Let me get it out of the oven.” He pulls it out of the oven and, almost instantly, Gwen swoops in, sniffing the round pie in front of her. “Fuck! Try not to inhale the cheese, yeah?”
The pizza finally cools and Jack does the honour of cutting the first slice. Handing it carefully to Gwen, she grabs it and devours a first bite, that for her is almost quarter of the slice.
“Mmm, Jack,” she says, shooting random pieces of cheese, dough and sauce flying, “This pizza is delicious. Is that sugar in the crust?”
He grins. “Something like that.”
After Gwen heartily devours the remaining slices of the pizza in the most disgusting way possible, she slumps upon a chair. Her hair is strewn across her face, her eyes are downcast, and a loud belch escapes her lips.
“Ew,” whispers Ianto, hiding behind Jack.
After another 10 minutes, Gwen panics. “Jack,” she screams, “I feel sick! And, my God, I can’t breathe, Jack! Jack, help me! Do something! Jack!” Her eyes are wide, her arms are around her neck, and she’s shaking her head around wildly, screaming all the while.
Owen watches transfixed. “Aren’t you going to do something, there, mate?”
“No. And besides, you’re the doctor,” he chuckles.
Gwen’s now on the floor, thrashing about, and for an instant, Ianto’s scared. “Jack,” he warns, eyes wide, “What the hell…”
And for the last time, still thrashing wildly about, Gwen takes in a breath, strained, no less, but still a breath. Her body’s contorted into a most odd position on the floor. And for the first time, the three of them cheer with happiness.
Entering the hub, Tosh walks into the kitchen and glances down at Gwen’s lifeless body. “What did I miss?”
Owen laughs. “You missed the brightening of the world, Tosh. We’re finally free!” While he skips away happily to his desk, Ianto looks stunned.
“What, perchance, did you put into that pizza, Jack?”
He grins yet again. “Cyanide. A lethal amount, no less.”
Tosh snorts. “Obviously.”
Author: Me,
sparklingloversDisclaimer: This didn't happen, even though it would be the best thing I've ever witnessed.
Author's Notes: Prompt #040 from the Gwenbash fic table.
“And this is how we wash the floor, wash the floor, wash the floor… and this is how we wash the floor, with Gwen’s blood some mooooooore,” croons Jack, stirring away at a pot of blood-red sauce on the stove.
He turns, now facing the countertop, and picks up the pizza dough resting there. Grinning devilishly, he pulls out a thin vial, containing some eerily exciting powder, from his apron’s pocket and unscrews the cap with an enthralling ‘pop’.
“Yes,” he murmurs, carefully sprinkling the intriguing powder across the shaped dough, making sure to reach every curve, the smile never leaving his face. “We’re one step closer to being rid of the whore!”
From behind Tosh’s desk, Ianto briskly walks toward the kitchen with a smile. There’s a tray in his hands covered with two full mugs of hot chocolate and a plate of cookies. “Jack, what are you doing?”
“I’m making things right again,” he simply says, reaching for a cookie. “Ianto, do me a favor and dump the rest of this,” – he holds out the powder vial – “into the sauce on the stove.”
Ianto does as he’s told.
After the sauce finishes simmering and it’s dolloped onto the waiting dough, the pair take turns covering every inch of visible redness with cheese and slide it smoothly into the oven.
“And now we wait.”
Coming from the Torchwood morgue, Owen stumbles into the kitchen looking pissed with the world. “I smell pizza,” he says, “And I’m bloody starving.”
Jack laughs heartily. “Sorry, mate, but you can’t have any.”
“And why the fuck not?” he steams, clenching his fists. His eyes are bloodshot, and he looks as though he’s prepared to kill.
“It’s a special pizza for Gwen.”
Owen’s eye twitches as he leans up against the countertop. “It’s not like she needs it, the fat bitch.”
After about 45 minutes, the pizza is finished and, right on cue, Gwen scampers up to the kitchen from where she was hiding, no doubt doing something unproductive like counting the number of spots on the wall.
“Do I smell pizza?” she inquires, eyes large like a cat’s when they see something worth looking at. There’s drool dripping from the corner of her mouth, hitting the floor, and the three of them stare, disturbed.
“Yeah,” Owen finally says, moving out of the drool-splashing range, “Let me get it out of the oven.” He pulls it out of the oven and, almost instantly, Gwen swoops in, sniffing the round pie in front of her. “Fuck! Try not to inhale the cheese, yeah?”
The pizza finally cools and Jack does the honour of cutting the first slice. Handing it carefully to Gwen, she grabs it and devours a first bite, that for her is almost quarter of the slice.
“Mmm, Jack,” she says, shooting random pieces of cheese, dough and sauce flying, “This pizza is delicious. Is that sugar in the crust?”
He grins. “Something like that.”
After Gwen heartily devours the remaining slices of the pizza in the most disgusting way possible, she slumps upon a chair. Her hair is strewn across her face, her eyes are downcast, and a loud belch escapes her lips.
“Ew,” whispers Ianto, hiding behind Jack.
After another 10 minutes, Gwen panics. “Jack,” she screams, “I feel sick! And, my God, I can’t breathe, Jack! Jack, help me! Do something! Jack!” Her eyes are wide, her arms are around her neck, and she’s shaking her head around wildly, screaming all the while.
Owen watches transfixed. “Aren’t you going to do something, there, mate?”
“No. And besides, you’re the doctor,” he chuckles.
Gwen’s now on the floor, thrashing about, and for an instant, Ianto’s scared. “Jack,” he warns, eyes wide, “What the hell…”
And for the last time, still thrashing wildly about, Gwen takes in a breath, strained, no less, but still a breath. Her body’s contorted into a most odd position on the floor. And for the first time, the three of them cheer with happiness.
Entering the hub, Tosh walks into the kitchen and glances down at Gwen’s lifeless body. “What did I miss?”
Owen laughs. “You missed the brightening of the world, Tosh. We’re finally free!” While he skips away happily to his desk, Ianto looks stunned.
“What, perchance, did you put into that pizza, Jack?”
He grins yet again. “Cyanide. A lethal amount, no less.”
Tosh snorts. “Obviously.”
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:D
STILL LOVE IT
FROM WHEN I READ IT LIKE A MINUTE AGO >:D
FOR WRITING SUCH PWNSOMENESS YOU GET THE SHIRTLESS JOHN SIMM ICON! XD
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ily kellyy! :D
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ilymore obv
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