Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood. I would love to. Really, really love to.
Spoiler warning: I'm aware that some of you are new to the fandom (You know who you are, lovelies), so if you haven't finished series two, please come back and read once you have.
A/N: This one was inspired by a fanart I found on DeviantArt. It's called "Team Torchwood Takes a Nap" by awabubbles. I fell in love with this piece and the plotbunny wouldn't leave me alone. Please, feel encouraged to pop by the piece and tell her how talented she is. And beg her to draw more Torchwood fanart.
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It had been a long day. All of Ianto's days were long now that Tosh and Owen were gone. Mixed in with the bone-deep weariness that came from running from one end of Cardiff to the other chasing Weevils, Hoix and even bloody Blowfish, there was the fragileness that came with grief.
Gwen had been sent home around midday, falling asleep on her feet. Jack went out on an Alert about an hour ago, insisting Ianto stay behind to get the files ready for tomorrow's dreaded UNIT video conference.
He had finally finished the last bit of paperwork when his mobile rang. Checking the caller ID, he answered with a gruff "Hullo, Gwen."
"Ianto…hi. Are you busy?"
"No, I was just finishing up. What can I do for you?" It was unusual for Gwen to call him. It wasn't that they weren't close—the awkward distance they'd kept had vanished while Jack was on his mysterious trip with the Doctor and they'd certainly grown closer over the last couple of months when it became just the three of them—but she normally just called Jack.
"I…I was wondering. Oh, it's silly and you can say no, of course, but I just thought…"
"Gwen. Just ask."
"Rhys is working tonight. He had to drive up to Glasgow for a pick up," she said, in one breath. "I just…I don't like being alone now…not since Owen and Tosh…"
Ianto heard her clear her throat delicately.
"I wondered if you could stay at mine tonight. Jack too, if he wants. I just…I don't want to be alone."
Ianto's heart went out to her. He and Jack had each other to turn to in their grief and while Gwen did have her husband…well, he hadn't known them, wasn't part of the team. Rhys was a good bloke but he'd never understand the kind of bond that forms between people who had each other's backs in dangerous situations day in and day out.
"Of course. I'll be there in 15 minutes. "
Fourteen minutes and thirty-seven seconds later, Ianto knocked on the door to Gwen's flat. Her eyes were puffy and bloodshot, but she looked relieved as she pulled it open. Following her through to the main room, he removed his coat and laid it gently on the back of a chair. People were snogging on the television.
"Wine, pet?" Gwen offered.
"Er…sure, why not?"
Ianto stayed quiet while his coworker flittered around the small kitchen, pulling a pair of wine glasses from the cabinet and a bottle from the fridge. He'd always thought her nerves were a bit…fragile for their job. Her bleeding heart had been why Jack had hired her to begin with, but it also made her—to some extent—a liability. It's why the rest of them had given off the air of heartlessness she'd hated so much. They'd learned to choose their battles, learned the hard way how cruel the world was. Jack had watched everyone he'd known die for more than a century. Tosh had committed treason to save her mother, then languished in what was essentially a concrete box for ages until she'd been rescued by Torchwood. Owen had lost the love of his life to an alien brain parasite. Ianto had Canary Wharf and Lisa…Gwen had none of that, none of the life experience that showed her that maybe, sometimes, life was just not fair. That not everything had to make sense.
Nothing showcased that better than the fiasco at the Brecon Beacons, when she'd pleaded with Jack to give her time with the ringleader, just to understand. Ianto himself could not have cared less why. He'd long since given up trying to see the good in the world and he reckoned that the other three had, as well. But Gwen…well, she still wanted the world to be full of rainbows and butterflies. Situations like this, the tragic ones, always seemed to affect her more. He missed Toshiko. He believed that he would still feel that loss at St. Peter's Gates. And, despite all the bickering and bollocks that came along with their medic, Ianto missed Owen. But he suspected that it was different for Gwen, who'd never really experienced loss. He thought it must be different for Jack as well, because he fashioned himself as the team "dad."
They sipped their wine in silence, half watching some inane romantic comedy Gwen had popped in before he arrived.
"I saw this at the cinema," she muttered. "With Tosh."
Ianto made a quiet humming sound, not really knowing what to say but wanting her to know he was listening.
"I thought it was, well, a bit twee, but you know how Tosh is…was. She always wanted to believe in white knights and fairy castles."
He chuckled. "She dragged me down to Castell Caerdydd once, soon after I started. She told so many fanciful tales of princesses in dungeons rescued by the knight in shining armour, who kept her protected and safe 'til she met her handsome prince." It was about a month later that he'd found the paperwork on her UNIT detention in the mess of the Archives. He'd felt guilty, then, about the book he'd given her on the history of Cardiff Castle. It didn't take too much imagination to turn Jack into the brave knight and Owen into her handsome Prince. Or maybe it was Tommy. Ianto had never asked.
"I miss her, Ianto. And Owen. We weren't as close after…well, after we were close, but I miss him just the same. They were too young to die!"
"They were always going to die young, Gwen, and they knew it. We all know it. The moment we stepped foot in the Hub, we started living on borrowed time."
That was apparently the wrong thing to say, because she started weeping. .She launched herself at him from across the couch, settling her weight on his lap and her face in the crook of his neck. He held her while she cried, offering her comforting, meaningless words and rubbing small circles on her back until she calmed.
"C'mon, love. Let's get you to bed. A good sleep will do you good."
Gwen wrapped her fingers in his and allowed herself to be led to her bedroom. Uncharacteristically silent, she pulled the duvet down and started to unbutton her jeans and shimmy them down her hips. Ianto looked away, blushing furiously. It wasn't the first time she'd undressed in front of him and wouldn't likely be the last…she just seemed to forget that, despite his current bedmate being a man, he was attracted to women. At some point, she'd relegated him into "gay best mate" territory and it baffled him.
Once she'd stripped to her satisfaction—the red long-sleeved tee she'd worn all day, her panties and, oddly, fuzzy pink slippers—she sat on the bed and looked at him expectantly. "You can hardly sleep in your suit, Ianto. That tie'll hang you in no time."
It took him a minute, but he finally twigged to what she meant. When she'd asked him to come over this evening, she'd meant as a sleep over. He shot her a soft smile and set about to undoing his tie and kicking off his socks and shoes. The rest of his clothing was staying on, of course, no matter how comfortable Gwen felt in her skivvies. The very last thing Ianto needed was Rhys coming home early to find him half-naked curled up next to his wife. He emptied his pockets onto what he assumed was Rhys's side of the bed. Keys. Wallet. Mobile. Ah…he'd better let Jack know he wasn't at his flat…no need to worry him, was there?
We're sleeping Gwen's tonight. Let yourself in when you're done w/ the alert. x
Gwen was already snoring softly when Ianto's head hit the pillow. He brushed the dark hair out of her face fondly and closed his eyes.
It felt like only minutes later when he was jostled awake by a weight settling in behind him.
"Shhh. Go back to sleep. I didn't mean to wake you," whispered a deep voice with an American accent. A muscular arm snaked under him to pull him closer and the other worked its way under the pillow. "Love you, Ianto."
Ianto smiled and just took in the moment to savor the situation he found himself in. Gwen slept peacefully, facing him with her small fingers wrapped around his arm like he was her cuddly toy. Jack was wrapped around his waist, softly trailing his fingers from his collarbone to his navel, warm breath coming in soft puffs against his neck. The young Welshman intertwined his fingers with his lover's, stilling their absent-minded journey.
His eyes drifted shut. "Love you too, Jack."
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A/N 2.0: Well, there you have it. Please review, tell me what you think.
Also, I have a poll on my profile about what kind of oneshot you'd like to see from me next. It'd be really helpful if you voted!
Peace and love!
