Owen sauntered into the hub and was surprised to see everyone doing nothing. Gwen, Ianto and Tosh were sitting on the battered old sofa with their feet on the coffee table. Jack was leaning against the entrance to the autopsy room playing with a yo-yo. They were all silent.
"What's going on?" The medic asked.
"Nothing at all is going on," Gwen replied, without even bothering to look at him. "Absolutely nothing is happening."
"It seems that our writer is blocked," Jack told him.
"What the hell are you on about?"
"It seems that Janto Jones is suffering a dry spell," Ianto offered.
"You're telling me that we have a writer and she is named after Tea-boy."
"That's right," Tosh confirmed.
"Why has she spelt Ianto with a J?" Owen asked, clearly puzzled.
"Jack and Ianto are her favourites. Janto is their names mashed together. You know, like Brangelina"
"I'll tell you what I don't get," said Ianto, sounding slightly pissed off. "Why do all these fan-fiction writers enjoy hurting their favourites? Seriously? How often have I been injured or even killed in these stories by people who claim to like me?"
"Tell me about it," The Captain protested. "It's not exactly fun learning all the different ways there are to die."
"At least they write about you," said Tosh, flatly. "Half the time I only turn up to sort out something technical."
"Rhys and I seem to be constantly arguing." Gwen added, with irritation.
"They always have me flirting with anything with a pulse."
As counter-arguments went, this wasn't one of Jack's best.
"Jack, that's not fiction," Ianto replied, with a laugh.
The Captain didn't answer. He simply settled for flashing one of his dazzling smiles.
"There are upsides," Ianto told them.
"Such as?" Gwen queried.
"Jack and I get to have an amazing amount of sex."
"Thanks for the image," Owen muttered with disgust.
"That's all fine and dandy for you Ianto," Gwen said tightly. "Tosh and I get to have a lot of sex also."
This piqued Owen's interest.
"Really? Where do I find all this stuff?"
"Don't even think about it Owen."
The medic sat down on his stool. He was fairly disappointed at not being allowed to read the Gwen/Tosh slash fiction.
"So we just wait here until this Janto Jones comes up with something?" he queried.
"There's no need to worry," Jack told him. "There are plenty of other writers out there who are all too ready to get us all injured."
Silence once again fell as the team waited.
The End.