Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Ianto or Jack, they belong to Russell T and the BBC. If I did own them they would live happily ever after in a magical world of lovely coffee and stopwatches :)
Ianto Jones and the terrifying task
Throughout the years Ianto Jones has learn to cope with almost anything. Although it was obvious from the outset that working for an organisation as obsessively secretive as Torchwood wouldn't be all tea breaks (or coffee breaks, in his case) and awkward water cooler moments, he had at least been expecting some semblance of normality. Perhaps a little bit of quiet filing in an office that wasn't stacked to the ceiling with alien artefacts, or being able to walk down the corridor without being assaulted by various slimy things with far too many teeth.
And yet (as is usually the case with life) the unexpected insisted on occurring on a daily basis. Whether it be gaseous sex monsters or underground weevil fighting rings, biblical demon attacks or the unhealthy obsession of his lover with a hand in a jar, Ianto had seen it all. But as time passed, the gentle Welshman had learned to cope.
Now if a large blubbering mass with too many tentacles suddenly entered the Hub uninvited he only felt a slight wave of panic before making a dash for the weapons cabinet. If Jack turned up for a date with an axe through his head and half an arm missing there was only a brief spell of worry and fear for his other half before he realised his beloved immortal would soon be well.
But there are some things Ianto will never become accustomed to, things too explicably wrong that they make his flesh crawl in disgust. And it was for this reason that Ianto always dreaded the trip down to the cells to fetch the grubby Weevil overalls to give them their monthly wash. For as he readied the soapy water and added Jack's special super strength detergent, Ianto was faced with dealing with something so terrible that it escaped even the twisted minds of the most brutal creatures.
Polyester.