Title: "The Beautiful Lull"
Disclaimer: I'm not RTD, I don't work for the BBC, and as much as I might like to, I don't own Jack or Ianto or any part of Torchwood. I do, however, order pizza under that name on principle.
Pairings: Jack/Ianto
Rating: PG
Notes/Summary: In which a shop owner knows the score. Written for the January 7 prompt at
redismycolour.

Jack gets a little lost at the costume shop, which surprises Ianto not at all. Not literally lost – there aren’t that many nooks and crannies – but he gets a faraway look that Ianto has learned quietly to loathe because it means his Jack is busy. It’s always some other Jack from a long time ago that he gets glimpses of.
More than one, probably.
So Ianto occupies himself chatting about classic menswear with the owner and pretends not to be irritated at how much time Jack is taking to ensure that the building is empty of unwelcome alien influences. He supposes it’s as good a way as any to keep Jack’s cover intact, but considering that on the best of days the two of them already look like they’re headed to a fancy dress party, he isn’t even sure that’s necessary. Plus, Blake – that’s the owner – is starting to show an unwholesome interest in Jack’s coat, and Ianto is running out of polite ways to say no.
He’s just trying to turn the conversation around to something like effects prosthetics or fake blood when Jack comes out of the back of the shop wearing a full chauffeur’s uniform in gray, complete with cap and gloves.
Ianto’s mouth might go a little dry at that point. The owner gives him a knowing look, but he really can’t be bothered with embarrassment on account of how he’s busy working out an elaborate fantasy that involves an old Bentley. And possibly a horse whip of some sort. He’s certain he can find both of these things on short notice if he has to.
“I think we’ve found what we needed,” Jack says, which in addition to its status as code for ‘I have contained the alien object and we have to take it back to the Hub now before it does any more harm’ is magic to Ianto’s ears.
“Yes,” he says hurriedly. “We’ll take it for the weekend.”
The shop owner gives him that same too-aware smirk, but just says, “Take care you read the hiring agreement, and I’ll need the damage deposit in advance along with the fee. And if you ever decide to sell that coat --”
“Oh, no chance of that,” Jack says. “Ianto here loves the coat. Don’t you, Ianto?”
“Yep,” he says as he slides his Torchwood-issued credit card over the counter.
Oh yes. Definitely a horse whip.
Disclaimer: I'm not RTD, I don't work for the BBC, and as much as I might like to, I don't own Jack or Ianto or any part of Torchwood. I do, however, order pizza under that name on principle.
Pairings: Jack/Ianto
Rating: PG
Notes/Summary: In which a shop owner knows the score. Written for the January 7 prompt at
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Jack gets a little lost at the costume shop, which surprises Ianto not at all. Not literally lost – there aren’t that many nooks and crannies – but he gets a faraway look that Ianto has learned quietly to loathe because it means his Jack is busy. It’s always some other Jack from a long time ago that he gets glimpses of.
More than one, probably.
So Ianto occupies himself chatting about classic menswear with the owner and pretends not to be irritated at how much time Jack is taking to ensure that the building is empty of unwelcome alien influences. He supposes it’s as good a way as any to keep Jack’s cover intact, but considering that on the best of days the two of them already look like they’re headed to a fancy dress party, he isn’t even sure that’s necessary. Plus, Blake – that’s the owner – is starting to show an unwholesome interest in Jack’s coat, and Ianto is running out of polite ways to say no.
He’s just trying to turn the conversation around to something like effects prosthetics or fake blood when Jack comes out of the back of the shop wearing a full chauffeur’s uniform in gray, complete with cap and gloves.
Ianto’s mouth might go a little dry at that point. The owner gives him a knowing look, but he really can’t be bothered with embarrassment on account of how he’s busy working out an elaborate fantasy that involves an old Bentley. And possibly a horse whip of some sort. He’s certain he can find both of these things on short notice if he has to.
“I think we’ve found what we needed,” Jack says, which in addition to its status as code for ‘I have contained the alien object and we have to take it back to the Hub now before it does any more harm’ is magic to Ianto’s ears.
“Yes,” he says hurriedly. “We’ll take it for the weekend.”
The shop owner gives him that same too-aware smirk, but just says, “Take care you read the hiring agreement, and I’ll need the damage deposit in advance along with the fee. And if you ever decide to sell that coat --”
“Oh, no chance of that,” Jack says. “Ianto here loves the coat. Don’t you, Ianto?”
“Yep,” he says as he slides his Torchwood-issued credit card over the counter.
Oh yes. Definitely a horse whip.
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