Living the dream
Summary: Someone is entering the minds of the people of Cardiff. Will Captain Jack, Ianto and the team be able to solve the case before Torchwood is compromised and privacy and free will lost? Rated M for sex and violence - not gratuitous. There is a suicide (not a Torchwood member) if this upsets. Some Janto action. Torchwood isn't for kids.
Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood or any of its characters. However, if Jack and Ianto were real, I would be tempted to steal them.
Timeline: Set between Combat and Captain Jack Harkness, late in the first season. Not too many spoilers.
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Enjoy.
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Prologue
Choose him.
Anya looked at the man stretching his quadriceps in the mirrored room. His, his face was wet with sweat from his workout, small droplets sliding down his chin and on to the gym floor. Darker patches stained his t-shirt and shorts which did little to hide the muscle definition of arm, chest, abdomen and legs. Yes he would do. He could be her first.
She watched as he completed his stretching exercise, methodically working through each muscle group. Eventually he grabbed his drink bottle and towel and started towards the door. He would walk right past her. Her heart pumped with excitement. As he neared she dropped her own drink bottle sending it skidding out in front of him, bumping into his feet. He reached down and picked it up, turned and handed it to her. "Thank you" she said. For a brief moment their hands touched. It felt like a small bolt of electricity passed between them.
His hand jerked back. "You shocked me." He rubbed his hand.
"Must be all the energy we've worked up." she said.
He looked her up and down and smiled. "Just a fraction too much friction." He continued walking towards the male change rooms.
Anya grasped her water bottle tightly. Did it work? Did she connect with him? She made her way quickly to the female change rooms and locked herself in a cubicle. She took a few deep breaths, calming herself. She knew what she had to do next. She closed her eyes and thought about the man.
When Anya opened her eyes she was in the open shower of the male change rooms. The part of her that was a man was unmoved by the scene. The part of her that was woman tingled with excitement. Masculine bodies with soft skin over hard muscles. Coarse hair and angles.
His eyes travelled lower and dwelled between the legs of the men. Alfred shook his head puzzled by his interest. He was just as large as any of these men and he had seen it all before. He turned the shower taps on and felt the hot water pour over his body. It was good to wash away the sweat that had built up from his exercise.
His mind wandered to his wife. Sandra would be home now, in the kitchen, preparing his dinner. Thursday, roast beef night. She'd over cook it as usual. He could almost taste the chewy and slightly charred flesh. He should ring her and remind her not to put it on too early. But then again perhaps he wouldn't. If he said he loved it, there was a better chance she'd have sex with him. Probably not worth a burnt meal. She'd probably have a headache and he would have to retire to the bathroom with a box of tissues. Or perhaps he'd give Jane a ring and tell Sandy that he was going to the pub for a beer. Jane might be clingy, but she was always receptive, and grateful. He could just see her face glowing with perspiration, mouth open, a groan escaping her lips as she came with his cock deep inside her.
The shower suddenly gave burst of cold water bringing his mind abruptly back to the present. He glanced down at his semi erection. A smile played over his lips. He might not have to worry but with this monstrosity between his legs he'd make every man in the room insecure and impotent. He watched his penis swell with arrogance. Actually, he thought as he quickly grabbed his towel, he better be careful or they would all think he was queer.
Anya gasped as her mind snapped back into her body. Was that how men felt? All sex and ego. Women just play things for their desires? Or was that just how this man felt. She felt a little unclean like she had just taken a bite of an apple only to discover a worm. The apple might be rotten, but its flesh was still sweet. Anya made a mental note to "visit" Alfred tonight. After the burnt meal of course. She smiled at herself. If she was going to bite the fabled poison apple she might as well eat the whole thing.
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