Title: Commiseration
Author: Indigo Night
Summary: Ianto comforts Tosh.
Feedback: Yes please, yay reviews!
Pairing: One-sided Tosh/Owen, implied one-sided Janto (at least emotionally), Tosh/Ianto friendship.
Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood or the characters I'm just borrowing them for fun.
Spoilers: Not really.
Warnings: Vaguely implied slash.
Author's Note: I meant for this interaction to be completely platonic, but readers will interpret as they please. I just really adore Ianto and Tosh's friendship. Read, Review,
Enjoy!
Ianto really hadn't meant to eavesdrop, he truly hadn't. But after spending so much time unobtrusively fading into the background, sometimes he just couldn't help it. So when Tosh made yet another failed attempt to ask oblivious, abrasive Owen out, Ianto bore silent, unnoticed witness.
Ordinarily he would have followed his usual policy by simply pretending he'd seen and heard nothing. For a group of people who spent so much of their time working in such close quarters, privacy was a difficult thing to keep, and Tosh deserved what little he could give her. But when he accidentally stumbled across her crying quietly in the archives he decided perhaps just this once privacy really wasn't the best policy.
She leaned against the desk, an artifact she'd clearly meant to take apart and study spread out before her. Her shoulders were hunched, one hand pressed over her mouth as she stifled the quiet sobs that shook her slender frame.
After a moment's hesitation Ianto quietly approached her and produced a clean handkerchief from his pocket. She looked up, blinking swollen eyes at him in surprise. Her cheeks flushed pink at being caught but she accepted the handkerchief gratefully.
"Owen's a prat," Ianto informed her as she mopped her face. He offered the words as blunt truth, not really expecting a response.
Toshiko sniffled, biting her lip. She wasn't terribly upset or surprised by Ianto's perception; she'd always known there was more to the Welshman than he let on and she trusted him not to intrude beyond her comfort level. "I just don't understand why," she admitted, voice thick with tears, "Am I not smart enough? Not pretty enough?" She would have gone on but Ianto stopped her.
It was an impulse of the sort he would usually check, but he reached out and gently pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "You're brilliant," he told her seriously, "And beautiful."
She blinked, cheeks reddening again, but she quickly tried to brush it off with a shakily laugh. "Well, not right now, obviously," she joked, waving to her blotchy, tear stained face.
"Always," Ianto assured with a small smile, "Owen doesn't know what he's missing out on. He doesn't deserve you."
Tosh sniffed again, but her eyes were dry now. It didn't change anything really, but Ianto's affirmation was sweet and made warmth blossom in her chest. "I think maybe Jack doesn't really know what he's missing either," she told him quietly, making it Ianto's turn to blush.
Neither of them said anything more; they didn't have to. There were so many things they just didn't need to say, because they both knew and that was enough. They gave each other small, understanding smiles and returned to their own tasks, both feeling distinctly less alone.
