Disclaimer: Don't own anything you recognize.
A/N: I have had a very tough day today, but this idea just came to me in Spanish and I just had to write it. I'd like to dedicate this to someone who is very dear to my heart; John Barrowman! He is an amazing singer and has a wonderful personality.
Stayin' Alive
Ianto Jones walked into the Hub one morning hearing a strange sound. It sounded like an old disco song, and it seemed to be coming from above his head. He searched the hub, looking for the source. Maybe that Sklozian they had caught last week had gotten out of it's cell...again. He really needed to remind Owen about putting the code in after he closed the cell door, as well as before. The closer he got to Tosh's workstation, the louder it got. He was able to discern different words now.
"Well now, I get low and I get high,
And if I can't get either, I really try.
Got the wings of heaven on my shoes;
I'm a dancin' man and I just can't lose.
You know it's all right. It's OK.
I'll live to see another day.
We can try to understand
The New York Times' effect on man."
"Oh god, he's not serious!" Ianto exclaimed, racing up to Jack's office.
He opened the door, and surprisingly, Jack neither saw nor heard him come in. He was facing the other side of the room, singing into the handle of a broom.
'We have a broom?' Ianto wondered.
"Whether you're a brother or whether you're a mother,
You're stayin' alive, stayin' alive.
Feel the city breakin' and everybody shakin', people,
Stayin' alive, stayin' alive.
Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin' alive, stayin' alive.
Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin' alive."
Jack finished out the song nicely and turned around when he heard clapping.
"Bravo sir," Ianto said, "there is some paperwork downstairs that you need to fill out s soon as possible."
"Say, Ianto," Jack stated, "would you like to join me for a song?"