I DO NOT OWN. This is strictly oneshot-crack/head-cannon. Gwen-Lovers: Try not to flame, I really don't like her. This is my first published attempt at fanfic. It also hints at my crack-back story creation (daughter of Capt. Jack Harkness and Capt. Jack Sparrow) and disses Ianto's nose. Don't get me wrong, I love the uniqueness of his nose and I- wait….. I'm rambling again. Enjoy!
Torchwood was unnaturally quiet.
Owen had gone to inspect the newly-discovered body at their latest crime scene; Tosh had gone on vacation with a very close "friend" and the great Captain Jack Harkness was on the wrong set doing explicit, unnamed things with the hand of the 10th doctor and another Captain Jack.
So this left Ianto and Gwen. Normally, Gwen would either be snogging someone/thing, or blathering on about "alien rights" but she couldn't do that because all the living aliens were being transported to one of the other Torchwoods for testing purposes and snogging Ianto was simply out of the question. Something about him just irked her. Perhaps it was the fact that his nose was weirdly shaped or more likely because he was the only male on the hub that hadn't noticed her gorgeous tooth-gap. Was he immune? But how? She stopped tacking up random papers to ponder this for a bit. Heck, not even aliens were immune. Season 1 Episode 2 proved that. Maybe it was because-
"Here's your coffee", said Ianto, interrupting her slow thoughts.
After handing her the coffee, he started to head away from her towards the Gwen-free bliss of the other room when-
"Ianto?"
"Yes?"
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Ask away."
"I… forgot."
Ianto mentally rolled his eyes and tried to walk away from Gwen as fast as humanly possible when she called him again.
"Ianto?"
He loathed her. He loathed her stupid tooth-gap, her annoying way of getting emotional at the exact wrong times, he loathed how Jack sometimes-kinda flirted with her and he absolutely despised (with a fiery passion) how she always smelled like a mixture of papayas and guacamole. He detested papayas and guac.
"Yes?"
"What do you do in your spare time?"
Another thing he hated was how everyone wanted to know what his hobbies were. Why did they want to "bond"? Why did they deserve to know that the epic Ianto Jones was a 'primo' ballerina dancer?
"I watch television, eat something, and go to bed", he lied convincingly, his eyes darting back and forth.
"Oh", came the halting reply.
Gwen, despite Ianto's awesome-sauce coffee, was beginning to fall asleep from boredom. She needed to snog someone. Anyone.
"Susie? Nah, she was too… what's the word? Dead."
"The mysterious hand in the jar? No, she couldn't. Jack took it with him, wherever he went."
"What about…" she looked around, spotted it, and grinned. "Perfect."
Tosh came back about a month later, looking forward to work until she walked into the hub and found Gwen shagging the pterodactyl, Owen still clutching the evidence bags, twitch-seizuring on the floor, Jack staring open-mouthedly at the positive pregnancy test in his hand and Ianto in a purple tutu (pink really wasn't his color) putting on a performance of the Nutcracker. Tosh stepped back out, shell-shocked. Maybe she should stay on vacation for a couple more months.
This is a bit irrelevant but my school is having an election for student council so me and a couple friends put up a bunch of "Vote Saxon" posters. Now everyone keeps asking who Saxon is. Someone even scrawled BADWOLF on one of them.
:D
I love life.
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