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antigwenallies May. 21st, 2008 08:51 pm)
adia313.livejournal.com posting in antigwenallies May. 21st, 2008 08:51 pm)Title: A Quiet Night at Work (part three of the “Quiet Night” series)
Pairings: Jack/Ianto, unrequited Jack/Gwen, mentions of past Owen/Gwen
Spoilers: There are vague spoilers through 2.04.
Warnings: Language, off-screen violence, and references to two men in a romantic relationship
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Jack just wanted Gwen to get a little more field experience, but after a routine training exercise goes awry, Gwen can’t come to terms with the consequences.
Word Count: ~2400
*
Part 1
Part 2
Everything had happened so quickly. The last thing that Gwen clearly remembered was the footsteps rushing toward her. She’d been certain that it was the weevil she’d lost track of. When she’d aimed and fired, though, the cry of pain had been all too human. It turned out that Ianto had gotten around the park already, and instead of alerting Gwen, he just started a second sweep. Lucky for him, she’d been so anxious to take out the weevil that she hadn’t aimed very carefully.
She’d only hit his shoulder. But between Ianto’s melodramatic whimpering and the stress of having almost blown someone’s brains out, Gwen couldn’t wait for a heart-to-heart conversation with Jack. She’d been waiting for hours.
Now, she was on the observation deck of the autopsy bay, the harsh fluorescent lights buzzing, the pterosaur screeching, and her head pounding. Leaning over the railing, she watched as Owen disinfected the wound on Ianto’s shoulder. The bullet lay in a tray beside the slab, removed without surgery thanks to an alien magnetic device. At the opposite end of the slab, Jack was pacing, his clothes still sticky with Ianto’s blood. Gwen hoped that Jack would be able to hold back his tirade. Ianto had been careless, sure, by not keeping track of Jack and Gwen’s whereabouts. He’d distracted Gwen, and the weevil had gotten away. Clearly Jack would have to take disciplinary action. But Ianto had been through enough that night. Gwen just hoped she’d be able to convince Jack to wait until morning.
“I’m going to start bandaging it now,” Owen told Ianto. He sounded almost professional. Gwen barely stifled a giggle. Owen was a bit of a bastard, but he could still be cute when he set his mind to it.
Owen took a package of gauze and a roll of surgical tape. Covering the wound on Ianto’s shoulder with a square of the gauze, he said, “Jack’s going to owe you for this. You’ll have to milk this for all it’s worth, yeah? Make him do your laundry, your dishes… feed the pterodactyl…” Owen chattered mundanely as he dressed the wound. Finally, raising Ianto’s pliant body from the slab, Owen fixed a sling around Ianto’s neck and secured his right arm.
So meekly that Gwen’s heart broke for him, Ianto whispered, “Thank you.” Poor Ianto knew the sort of trouble he was in.
“I’m going to give Jack some painkillers for you. Tell him when you need one,” Owen lectured. He tossed an orange vial at Jack. “Doctor’s orders, brat, got it?”
Ianto nodded drowsily and struggled halfway into an extra shirt as Owen left him to speak with Jack. After a quick, quiet conversation with Owen, Jack swooped across the autopsy bay. Gwen wanted to look away from the scene: she might not have been particularly fond of Ianto, but that didn’t mean that she thought he deserved to be screamed at right after he’d been shot. She knew that she’d be able to calm Jack’s temper when they were finally able to be together, but until then, she would hate for anyone else to draw his attention.
Despite knowing that things were going to go to hell, Gwen couldn’t tear her eyes away from Jack. He looked so intense as he wrapped his greatcoat around Ianto’s shoulders. Of course, Ianto couldn’t process what was going on and keep his mouth shut. He mumbled something as his face dropped against Jack’s shoulder. She watched their mouths barely moving as they whispered to each other.
She hadn’t noticed that Owen had left the autopsy bay until he took her elbow and said, “Let’s get this over with.” He’d lost the affected “bedside manner” voice, so once again, he sounded gruff and a little impatient.
“What’s going on?” Gwen asked as Owen practically dragged her into the boardroom. Owen collapsed in his usual chair. He was probably drunk. If Gwen remembered correctly from their brief affair, Owen was usually drunk when he was off duty. Rolling her eyes, she took the seat across from him. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Jack wanted me to debrief you.”
Gwen rolled her eyes. “I’ll wait for Jack.”
“Jack’s going home with Ianto,” Owen said, and his patronizing tone made Gwen’s blood boil. Owen had no right to talk to her this way. He was great in bed, but he didn’t understand relationships like hers and Jack’s. Real emotional connections escaped Owen Harper, and even though Gwen would never give up on teaching him how to appreciate people, she had given up on expecting him to understand her soul connection with Jack. “You’ll be waiting a long time.”
“Owen, love,” Gwen said as patiently as she could, “Jack isn’t leaving the hub before he talks to me.”
Owen snorted. “You don’t want to talk to Jack tonight.”
“Look, I’m sorry you got dragged in on your night out, but—”
The siren sounded, and Gwen turned just in time to see Jack helping Ianto shuffle out of the hub. Where were they going? Nothing was wrong with Ianto’s legs: Jack didn’t need to help him walk. She rolled her eyes, but she tried to smile when she turned back to Owen. “Let me debrief you, and take you home.”
Shaking her head, Gwen said, “I’m okay. I’ll just wait for Jack to come back down, and—”
“I don’t think I can make this any clearer. Jack is going home with Ianto. He told me to take his call sheets for the rest of the week, so I’m guessing that he’ll be there for awhile.”
Gwen’s eyebrows knitted together as she contemplated what Owen had just told her. This was all very confusing. Firstly, it was strange that Jack would leave Owen to make his phone calls when Gwen was his second-in-command. Jack made weekly calls to the Prime Minister, and she was sure that he was due for a call to the Queen. He couldn’t really expect Owen to call the Prime Minister and the Queen. Owen must have misunderstood. Secondly, Jack was too much of a worrywart to sleep with Ianto while Ianto’s arm was in a sling. He coddled the whole team, especially Ianto, who was, frankly, a little hapless. If he was going to spend the rest of the week, four nights and three days, at Ianto’s flat, he must have something cooking.
When Gwen realized what Jack had planned, she felt a little sick. Jack must have figured that Gwen would blame herself for accidentally shooting Ianto. He would go to any lengths to protect Gwen from having to deal with daily reminders and recrimination from Ianto on top of her own guilt. It was all too clear. Jack was going to give Ianto retcon to make him forget how he’d been hurt. Of course, Jack would have to give Ianto twenty-four hours’ warning: that was standard Torchwood procedure when retconning operatives. He couldn’t leave Ianto alone during that time because Ianto was crafty and knew at least as much about the retcon procedure as Jack. Afterward, he’d have to make sure that Ianto didn’t have anything to jog his memory.
“Look, Gwen, I know it was a really rough night,” Owen was saying, “but we need to get this over with. There’s a lot of paperwork to get done. You need to get some rest tonight.”
Gwen’s heart sank. She’d been retconned, and it wasn’t an experience she’d wish on anyone. It was too much for a silly mistake during a weevil hunt. “Tomorrow, Owen, okay?” Gwen said. “I can’t do it now.”
Owen shrugged. “Yeah, fine. But don’t call me at three in the morning and tell me that you’ve changed your mind.”
Smiling widely to reassure Owen, Gwen snagged her keys and made a beeline for the cog door. By the time she reached the parking lot across from the Millennium Center, Ianto’s sedan was gone. She dove into her car and sped away from Torchwood. She had to save Ianto from Jack’s misguided attempts to protect her.
*
Gwen pounded on the door to Ianto’s flat. She’d been knocking for almost five minutes: she was starting to worry that she was too late to save Ianto. Then, she heard heavy footsteps from the other side of the door, and Jack good-naturedly called: “I’m sure it’s great, Mrs. Davies, but we really don’t need—” Jack stopped abruptly when he opened the door. His braces hung from the waistband of his trousers, and his undershirt was soaked through. What in the world had he been doing? He must be very surprised to see her after such a challenging evening, but he would understand soon. He would be touched by her concern for Ianto’s integrity, even though he’d ruined the weevil hunt. “Didn’t Owen tell you to go home?”
“We need to talk, Jack,” Gwen said firmly. She pushed the door aside—and stopped dead in her tracks. The bathroom door was wide open, and Ianto was standing on the bathmat in sweatpants and socks. Gwen heard the sucking noise of the tub emptying. Jack’s wet undershirt suddenly made a lot more sense. But letting subjects take a warm bath wasn’t retcon procedure. “What’s going on?”
Jack walked away from her. “What does it look like?” He called as he helped Ianto down a short hallway.
Gwen followed the men to the doorway of the master bedroom. After turning down the heavy bedding, Jack helped Ianto climb in. “Lay back,” Jack murmured, running his fingers along Ianto’s jaw. As Ianto obeyed, Jack pulled the covers up to Ianto’s chin. He stacked a few pillows where Ianto could rest his injured arm. Even with Gwen watching—what was going on?—Jack kissed Ianto’s forehead. “Try to sleep for a little while. I won’t be long.”
“You’re not staying?” Ianto asked nervously.
“I’m just going to talk to Gwen in the living room. I’m not leaving the flat.”
Ianto said, “Okay.”
“Let’s go. Now,” Jack snapped. He grabbed Gwen’s elbow and guided her into the living room at a clip. “What are you doing?”
Gwen took a deep breath to steady herself. “Listen, Jack, I know things didn’t happen the way they should have tonight. I just wanted to tell you that—I don’t blame Ianto.”
Jack backed away from her. He was always so concerned with seeming put-together and manly that he couldn’t let her see the swell of emotions he felt at her compassionate declaration. That had to be it. Why else would he be backing away from her like this? From the other side of the living room, Jack asked, “Why would you blame Ianto?”
“Well, he doubled back without letting us know where he was going. We lost the weevil because of him.”
“I heard footsteps—”
“Did you talk to Owen?” Jack demanded again. Gwen didn’t understand why Jack sounded so angry. His eyes were flashing dangerously in the dim light from the lamp on a low end table, and he held his shoulders as rigidly as a soldier at attention.
Gwen crossed the living room and took Jack’s hands in hers. His hands were clammy, like he’d just done a whole sink of dishes, and Gwen realized that Jack must have bathed Ianto. “You need to know that I don’t blame Ianto. I know he screwed up, but I don’t want you to—to do anything that you’ll regret later.”
Softly, Jack asked, “Like what?”
“Retcon him, or do something to wipe his memory of the hunt tonight. It’s just not fair to him, Jack. It’ll be tough, but I know we can be adults about it.”
Jack snatched his hands away from Gwen. When she looked at him, Gwen didn’t understand what she saw. He was looking at her like she was something disgusting he’d scraped off the bottom of his shoe. “Standard procedure for a snatch-and-grab is to walk concentric circles around the perimeter until called off. You were cutting across the grid like you’d never seen a map of Bute Park or gone on a retrieval mission in your life. It was amateur hour, and it got Ianto shot. What if you’d aimed differently? He could be dead, Gwen. You could have killed Ianto tonight because you were too stupid or too lazy to confirm positions or to identify yourself before you fired.”
His glare made her entire body shiver, like she was going to freeze. She was rooted to the spot, afraid to breathe or move, afraid to draw attention from the prowling beast across from her, afraid of Jack.
“Jack…” Gwen said helplessly. She’d just known that she needed to catch the weevil: no one else could fight aliens as well as she could. Was she supposed to have trusted the others to get it? Why didn’t Jack understand that she was trying to save the world?
“Shut up,” he snapped. “Go the hell home, before I do do something I’ll regret.” He turned on his heels with something like a growl. Wordlessly, he made his way to the master bedroom. From the hallway, Gwen could hear Jack and Ianto conversing: they spoke in normal tones, like Jack didn’t even care if she was there to be hurt by his behavior.
“I’m sorry,” Ianto offered, sounding so miserable that Gwen was a little ashamed of the wave of disdain she felt.
Rustling fabric covered Jack’s answer. Gwen sneaked down the hallway and peaked into the master bedroom as Jack eased into the large bed beside Ianto. At the foot of the bed, a pile of Jack’s clothes lay in a heap. Jack carded Ianto’s hair with long, powerful fingers as he murmured: “You did screw up, but you weren’t the only one out there. Stop blaming yourself. Concentrate on getting better.”
“I’ll try.”
Jack’s eyes caught Gwen’s as he arched carefully over Ianto’s arm. She’d seen them kiss before, but she’d never seen anyone kiss like this. There was no urgency in the kiss, but there was too much warmth for there not to be passion there. The languorous kiss didn’t end for what felt like ages, and Gwen just stared in dumb amazement. When Jack pulled back to give Ianto a chance to breathe, Jack locked eyes with Gwen. Any other day, she would have loved it: their soulful gazes got her through the most difficult days at Torchwood. Had she been wrong all along? Did Jack care about her at all?
Turning back to Ianto, Jack said fiercely, “You’ll get better. I need you, so you will.”
“Yes,” Ianto said quietly, “I will.”
Gwen was crying like a teenager when she slammed the door to Ianto’s flat.
*
TBC
Thanks for reading! Any comments you have time to leave will be appreciated!
Pairings: Jack/Ianto, unrequited Jack/Gwen, mentions of past Owen/Gwen
Spoilers: There are vague spoilers through 2.04.
Warnings: Language, off-screen violence, and references to two men in a romantic relationship
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Jack just wanted Gwen to get a little more field experience, but after a routine training exercise goes awry, Gwen can’t come to terms with the consequences.
Word Count: ~2400
*
Part 1
Part 2
Everything had happened so quickly. The last thing that Gwen clearly remembered was the footsteps rushing toward her. She’d been certain that it was the weevil she’d lost track of. When she’d aimed and fired, though, the cry of pain had been all too human. It turned out that Ianto had gotten around the park already, and instead of alerting Gwen, he just started a second sweep. Lucky for him, she’d been so anxious to take out the weevil that she hadn’t aimed very carefully.
She’d only hit his shoulder. But between Ianto’s melodramatic whimpering and the stress of having almost blown someone’s brains out, Gwen couldn’t wait for a heart-to-heart conversation with Jack. She’d been waiting for hours.
Now, she was on the observation deck of the autopsy bay, the harsh fluorescent lights buzzing, the pterosaur screeching, and her head pounding. Leaning over the railing, she watched as Owen disinfected the wound on Ianto’s shoulder. The bullet lay in a tray beside the slab, removed without surgery thanks to an alien magnetic device. At the opposite end of the slab, Jack was pacing, his clothes still sticky with Ianto’s blood. Gwen hoped that Jack would be able to hold back his tirade. Ianto had been careless, sure, by not keeping track of Jack and Gwen’s whereabouts. He’d distracted Gwen, and the weevil had gotten away. Clearly Jack would have to take disciplinary action. But Ianto had been through enough that night. Gwen just hoped she’d be able to convince Jack to wait until morning.
“I’m going to start bandaging it now,” Owen told Ianto. He sounded almost professional. Gwen barely stifled a giggle. Owen was a bit of a bastard, but he could still be cute when he set his mind to it.
Owen took a package of gauze and a roll of surgical tape. Covering the wound on Ianto’s shoulder with a square of the gauze, he said, “Jack’s going to owe you for this. You’ll have to milk this for all it’s worth, yeah? Make him do your laundry, your dishes… feed the pterodactyl…” Owen chattered mundanely as he dressed the wound. Finally, raising Ianto’s pliant body from the slab, Owen fixed a sling around Ianto’s neck and secured his right arm.
So meekly that Gwen’s heart broke for him, Ianto whispered, “Thank you.” Poor Ianto knew the sort of trouble he was in.
“I’m going to give Jack some painkillers for you. Tell him when you need one,” Owen lectured. He tossed an orange vial at Jack. “Doctor’s orders, brat, got it?”
Ianto nodded drowsily and struggled halfway into an extra shirt as Owen left him to speak with Jack. After a quick, quiet conversation with Owen, Jack swooped across the autopsy bay. Gwen wanted to look away from the scene: she might not have been particularly fond of Ianto, but that didn’t mean that she thought he deserved to be screamed at right after he’d been shot. She knew that she’d be able to calm Jack’s temper when they were finally able to be together, but until then, she would hate for anyone else to draw his attention.
Despite knowing that things were going to go to hell, Gwen couldn’t tear her eyes away from Jack. He looked so intense as he wrapped his greatcoat around Ianto’s shoulders. Of course, Ianto couldn’t process what was going on and keep his mouth shut. He mumbled something as his face dropped against Jack’s shoulder. She watched their mouths barely moving as they whispered to each other.
She hadn’t noticed that Owen had left the autopsy bay until he took her elbow and said, “Let’s get this over with.” He’d lost the affected “bedside manner” voice, so once again, he sounded gruff and a little impatient.
“What’s going on?” Gwen asked as Owen practically dragged her into the boardroom. Owen collapsed in his usual chair. He was probably drunk. If Gwen remembered correctly from their brief affair, Owen was usually drunk when he was off duty. Rolling her eyes, she took the seat across from him. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Jack wanted me to debrief you.”
Gwen rolled her eyes. “I’ll wait for Jack.”
“Jack’s going home with Ianto,” Owen said, and his patronizing tone made Gwen’s blood boil. Owen had no right to talk to her this way. He was great in bed, but he didn’t understand relationships like hers and Jack’s. Real emotional connections escaped Owen Harper, and even though Gwen would never give up on teaching him how to appreciate people, she had given up on expecting him to understand her soul connection with Jack. “You’ll be waiting a long time.”
“Owen, love,” Gwen said as patiently as she could, “Jack isn’t leaving the hub before he talks to me.”
Owen snorted. “You don’t want to talk to Jack tonight.”
“Look, I’m sorry you got dragged in on your night out, but—”
The siren sounded, and Gwen turned just in time to see Jack helping Ianto shuffle out of the hub. Where were they going? Nothing was wrong with Ianto’s legs: Jack didn’t need to help him walk. She rolled her eyes, but she tried to smile when she turned back to Owen. “Let me debrief you, and take you home.”
Shaking her head, Gwen said, “I’m okay. I’ll just wait for Jack to come back down, and—”
“I don’t think I can make this any clearer. Jack is going home with Ianto. He told me to take his call sheets for the rest of the week, so I’m guessing that he’ll be there for awhile.”
Gwen’s eyebrows knitted together as she contemplated what Owen had just told her. This was all very confusing. Firstly, it was strange that Jack would leave Owen to make his phone calls when Gwen was his second-in-command. Jack made weekly calls to the Prime Minister, and she was sure that he was due for a call to the Queen. He couldn’t really expect Owen to call the Prime Minister and the Queen. Owen must have misunderstood. Secondly, Jack was too much of a worrywart to sleep with Ianto while Ianto’s arm was in a sling. He coddled the whole team, especially Ianto, who was, frankly, a little hapless. If he was going to spend the rest of the week, four nights and three days, at Ianto’s flat, he must have something cooking.
When Gwen realized what Jack had planned, she felt a little sick. Jack must have figured that Gwen would blame herself for accidentally shooting Ianto. He would go to any lengths to protect Gwen from having to deal with daily reminders and recrimination from Ianto on top of her own guilt. It was all too clear. Jack was going to give Ianto retcon to make him forget how he’d been hurt. Of course, Jack would have to give Ianto twenty-four hours’ warning: that was standard Torchwood procedure when retconning operatives. He couldn’t leave Ianto alone during that time because Ianto was crafty and knew at least as much about the retcon procedure as Jack. Afterward, he’d have to make sure that Ianto didn’t have anything to jog his memory.
“Look, Gwen, I know it was a really rough night,” Owen was saying, “but we need to get this over with. There’s a lot of paperwork to get done. You need to get some rest tonight.”
Gwen’s heart sank. She’d been retconned, and it wasn’t an experience she’d wish on anyone. It was too much for a silly mistake during a weevil hunt. “Tomorrow, Owen, okay?” Gwen said. “I can’t do it now.”
Owen shrugged. “Yeah, fine. But don’t call me at three in the morning and tell me that you’ve changed your mind.”
Smiling widely to reassure Owen, Gwen snagged her keys and made a beeline for the cog door. By the time she reached the parking lot across from the Millennium Center, Ianto’s sedan was gone. She dove into her car and sped away from Torchwood. She had to save Ianto from Jack’s misguided attempts to protect her.
*
Gwen pounded on the door to Ianto’s flat. She’d been knocking for almost five minutes: she was starting to worry that she was too late to save Ianto. Then, she heard heavy footsteps from the other side of the door, and Jack good-naturedly called: “I’m sure it’s great, Mrs. Davies, but we really don’t need—” Jack stopped abruptly when he opened the door. His braces hung from the waistband of his trousers, and his undershirt was soaked through. What in the world had he been doing? He must be very surprised to see her after such a challenging evening, but he would understand soon. He would be touched by her concern for Ianto’s integrity, even though he’d ruined the weevil hunt. “Didn’t Owen tell you to go home?”
“We need to talk, Jack,” Gwen said firmly. She pushed the door aside—and stopped dead in her tracks. The bathroom door was wide open, and Ianto was standing on the bathmat in sweatpants and socks. Gwen heard the sucking noise of the tub emptying. Jack’s wet undershirt suddenly made a lot more sense. But letting subjects take a warm bath wasn’t retcon procedure. “What’s going on?”
Jack walked away from her. “What does it look like?” He called as he helped Ianto down a short hallway.
Gwen followed the men to the doorway of the master bedroom. After turning down the heavy bedding, Jack helped Ianto climb in. “Lay back,” Jack murmured, running his fingers along Ianto’s jaw. As Ianto obeyed, Jack pulled the covers up to Ianto’s chin. He stacked a few pillows where Ianto could rest his injured arm. Even with Gwen watching—what was going on?—Jack kissed Ianto’s forehead. “Try to sleep for a little while. I won’t be long.”
“You’re not staying?” Ianto asked nervously.
“I’m just going to talk to Gwen in the living room. I’m not leaving the flat.”
Ianto said, “Okay.”
“Let’s go. Now,” Jack snapped. He grabbed Gwen’s elbow and guided her into the living room at a clip. “What are you doing?”
Gwen took a deep breath to steady herself. “Listen, Jack, I know things didn’t happen the way they should have tonight. I just wanted to tell you that—I don’t blame Ianto.”
Jack backed away from her. He was always so concerned with seeming put-together and manly that he couldn’t let her see the swell of emotions he felt at her compassionate declaration. That had to be it. Why else would he be backing away from her like this? From the other side of the living room, Jack asked, “Why would you blame Ianto?”
“Well, he doubled back without letting us know where he was going. We lost the weevil because of him.”
“I heard footsteps—”
“Did you talk to Owen?” Jack demanded again. Gwen didn’t understand why Jack sounded so angry. His eyes were flashing dangerously in the dim light from the lamp on a low end table, and he held his shoulders as rigidly as a soldier at attention.
Gwen crossed the living room and took Jack’s hands in hers. His hands were clammy, like he’d just done a whole sink of dishes, and Gwen realized that Jack must have bathed Ianto. “You need to know that I don’t blame Ianto. I know he screwed up, but I don’t want you to—to do anything that you’ll regret later.”
Softly, Jack asked, “Like what?”
“Retcon him, or do something to wipe his memory of the hunt tonight. It’s just not fair to him, Jack. It’ll be tough, but I know we can be adults about it.”
Jack snatched his hands away from Gwen. When she looked at him, Gwen didn’t understand what she saw. He was looking at her like she was something disgusting he’d scraped off the bottom of his shoe. “Standard procedure for a snatch-and-grab is to walk concentric circles around the perimeter until called off. You were cutting across the grid like you’d never seen a map of Bute Park or gone on a retrieval mission in your life. It was amateur hour, and it got Ianto shot. What if you’d aimed differently? He could be dead, Gwen. You could have killed Ianto tonight because you were too stupid or too lazy to confirm positions or to identify yourself before you fired.”
His glare made her entire body shiver, like she was going to freeze. She was rooted to the spot, afraid to breathe or move, afraid to draw attention from the prowling beast across from her, afraid of Jack.
“Jack…” Gwen said helplessly. She’d just known that she needed to catch the weevil: no one else could fight aliens as well as she could. Was she supposed to have trusted the others to get it? Why didn’t Jack understand that she was trying to save the world?
“Shut up,” he snapped. “Go the hell home, before I do do something I’ll regret.” He turned on his heels with something like a growl. Wordlessly, he made his way to the master bedroom. From the hallway, Gwen could hear Jack and Ianto conversing: they spoke in normal tones, like Jack didn’t even care if she was there to be hurt by his behavior.
“I’m sorry,” Ianto offered, sounding so miserable that Gwen was a little ashamed of the wave of disdain she felt.
Rustling fabric covered Jack’s answer. Gwen sneaked down the hallway and peaked into the master bedroom as Jack eased into the large bed beside Ianto. At the foot of the bed, a pile of Jack’s clothes lay in a heap. Jack carded Ianto’s hair with long, powerful fingers as he murmured: “You did screw up, but you weren’t the only one out there. Stop blaming yourself. Concentrate on getting better.”
“I’ll try.”
Jack’s eyes caught Gwen’s as he arched carefully over Ianto’s arm. She’d seen them kiss before, but she’d never seen anyone kiss like this. There was no urgency in the kiss, but there was too much warmth for there not to be passion there. The languorous kiss didn’t end for what felt like ages, and Gwen just stared in dumb amazement. When Jack pulled back to give Ianto a chance to breathe, Jack locked eyes with Gwen. Any other day, she would have loved it: their soulful gazes got her through the most difficult days at Torchwood. Had she been wrong all along? Did Jack care about her at all?
Turning back to Ianto, Jack said fiercely, “You’ll get better. I need you, so you will.”
“Yes,” Ianto said quietly, “I will.”
Gwen was crying like a teenager when she slammed the door to Ianto’s flat.
*
TBC
Thanks for reading! Any comments you have time to leave will be appreciated!
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But I think I'll be in my bunk for a bit after that kissing paragraph!
Thank you.
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'Gwen was crying like a teenager when she slammed the door to Ianto’s flat.'
Isn't that how she always cries?
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Gwen's natural state then, lol.
This is great :-)
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Please, may I have some more?
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I adore this series. More soon, I hope?
*memories*
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I love this series. Please, please continue soon!
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