A/N: So I am officially an idiot. As a friendly commenter pointed out, John should most definitely not be quoting Doctor Who. The paradoxes that introduces… I'm not even going to go there. Let's pretend he referenced Harry Potter, or Britain's Got Talent, or something else unobtrusive, okay?
Also, you know how I said this would be two parts? I lied. When this hit 2k and they hadn't left the Hub, it became clear to me that a succinct two-parter this was not. I'll try for three, though.
"…I swear, half the scrapes he gets himself into. He's a bloody genius, even has the papers to prove it, but he hasn't a clue about how to relate to normal people. He can tell you what you had for breakfast, but he can't understand why you wouldn't want him to."
Ianto laughed. "I know! The number of times Jack's got his arse kicked, flirting with the wrong bloke. I want to blame it on him being from the future, but sometimes I think he gets a kick out of it."
"Yeah, Sherlock's the same way. It's like taunting Anderson is the new national sport, or something."
John and Ianto were sitting in the kitchen, the closest thing the Hub had to a break room. Ianto was sipping coffee, and John had made himself some tea. Jack and Sherlock were still upstairs, discussing whatever it was they were discussing, and none of the other Torchwood team members had made their way to work yet.
"You should see Jack and Owen when their having one of their spats." Ianto agreed. "Oh, and especially when Owen insults me. I tell Jack that I'm an adult, that I can deal with the wanker-"
"Yeah, Sherlock nearly punched Anderson in the face when he called me a cripple."
Ianto winced. "I can only imagine. Jack is bad enough when they call me his 'part-time shag'."
John took a long sip of his tea. "No, it wasn't pretty. It's a ruddy miracle that they still let us on crime scenes, what with the way he treats the police."
Ianto laughed. "That sounds familiar. The Cardiff police probably hate us just as much as the London do you. Jack's seduced and then ignored at least three-quarters of them by now, and the rest are all secretly in love with him. He's a one man home-wrecker, and I'd probably be up to here with it by now if I didn't find it hilarious."
John frowned. "But, aren't you two…?"
"Together? Yeah. But that's fairly recent." Ianto took a sip of his coffee. "I suppose I couldn't ignore what his braces did to me any longer, you know what I mean?" Then he flushed a little. "I mean, I'm not trying to imply anything…"
John raised his hand to head off the awkward apology. "No, it's fine. You should see Sherlock's scarf collection! Christ, I didn't even know I liked men before I met him."
"It was quite the same for me. I used to consider myself strictly heterosexual before I got this job. I suppose I'm rather Jack-sexual now."
John giggled into his mug. "Ooh, that's a good one. I may have to try it out on Harry. 'Sherlock-sexual' has a rather nice ring to it, doesn't it? Harry's my sister." he clarified, in response to Ianto's questioning look. "She's the first person I told about… you know."
"At least you got to tell her on your terms, though." Ianto said. "Mine heard tell of me going on a date with Jack uptown, and then she guilted it out of me. And I think she must have told all her mates, because I keep getting emails from all these girls I've never met moaning about their boyfriend problems."
John winced. "That's bad. My sister's properly gay, so she's not likely to pull one of those on me. But my ex-girlfriend slips up every once in a while. I haven't the heart to tell her that unless her boyfriend sees a corpse as a thoughtful gift, I'm not really the bloke to ask."
"Jack shot my ex-girlfriend." Ianto remarked.
"What? Why?"John asked, in the tone of someone who has completely lost their ability to be surprised.
"Oh, it wasn't like that. There were extenuating circumstances."
"He must have had one hell of an excuse."
"Well, she was trying to murder us all."
John sipped his tea resignedly. "You are going to explain this, aren't you?"
"Well, I used to work in the London branch of Torchwood. And it all started when…"
oOo
"I can't help but wonder why a mad, wonderful, amazing man like Sherlock stays with a worn out doctor like me." John was saying. It was clear that Jack and Sherlock were going to be a while, and as they had both run out of stories, they had adjourned to the autopsy bay. Ianto was showing John a few corpses that Owen hadn't had much luck with, and while he worked, John was finding himself confiding all his worries in the younger man.
Tosh had turned up a while ago, but a small man in an oatmeal jumper who was clearly friendly with Ianto wasn't anything that could phase a seasoned Torchwood operative. Perhaps if it had been a shape-shifting jumper- but no, she had merely nodded hello and then gone off to immerse herself in whatever hr current project was.
"I keep wondering when it's going to stop, you know?" John was saying, as he manipulated the corpses fingers. "When his interest is going to fade. He's going to wake up one morning, and realize that- sorry, did you notice the puncture marks in this tattoo?"
Ianto leaned closer. Sure enough, there were three perfectly round holes partially concealed by the tattoo of a robin on the cadaver's upper arm.
"Good eye." he said, making a note for Owen to investigate further.
"Oh, it's nothing. I guess the deducing wears off a bit, after a while."
Ianto sighed. "Yeah. You were saying? How you're afraid that it will stop? I am too, sometimes." He sat down on the computer chair, and looked at John. It was a relief, for both of them, to have someone to talk to who understood. Someone in a similar situation was not something either of them had held out hope of finding.
"We were just starting, six months ago. I had only just admitted to myself that it was actually happening, that I actually fancy him. And then he left.
"How could I possibly compete with the Doctor? He's wonderful, even I can see that. He travels through time in a police box for god's sakes, he's loud and fascinating and everything I'm not.
"And I know Jack came back, and he's with me and everything is ruddy brilliant. But what happens when the Doctor comes back and says 'all aboard'?"
John nods, and starts putting away the surgical instruments. "Jim Moriarty." he said, wiping off a scalpel with perhaps more force than was necessary.
Ianto looked at him questioningly.
"He's the nuttiest psychopath I've ever met. And when I say that, it means something. He's the only person who can match Sherlock intellectually. Whenever Moriarty's at large, he's all Sherlock cares about. They were practically made for each other, there's no room in that for me. Sherlock disappeared for three years chasing after him, and I had to pick up the pieces of my life. I didn't even know if he was alive.
"Of course, I did push him off a waterfall about a year ago, so there's that. But Sherlock says he might be still out there, somewhere. And I don't want to know what will happen when he comes back." John took off his rubber gloves, and tossed them in the trash. There was silence for a few seconds, and then he started laughing.
"God, look at us." he said. "We're both crazy, you know that? We should start a support group. 'Well-organized-men-who-make-brilliant-tea-and-were-turned-gay-by-their-mad-bastard-boyfriends-who-wear-silly-coats-anonymous. We'd attract new members by the dozens!"
Ianto cracked a smile. "The membership badge would take up your entire chest."
"Are you insulting my size, young man?" John said, raising an eyebrow. "I'll have you know-"
"Oi! Teaboy! Who the hell is this, and what are you doing in my autopsy bay?"
A short, irate man was standing at the top of the stairs. John was slightly put out by the venom in his voice, but Ianto was nonplussed.
"He's your replacement, Owen. He's slightly more qualified than you, as he can actually manage to understand alphabetical order."
"Er, hi." John said, with an awkward wave. "I'm John Watson, and he's kidding. At least, I hope so. I do have a day job, not that anyone seems to care."
A woman with rather unfortunate teeth appeared at the top of the stairs. "Oh, hello there. I'm Gwen Cooper, and this is Owen. And you are?"
"John Watson." he repeated. "I'm just waiting for my colleague to finish his meeting with Captain Harkness. Ianto was just showing me around."
"It turns out we have a lot in common." Ianto said, deadpan.
"Really?" Owen said. "Because if-"
It was then that all hell broke loose.
All of a sudden, there were bright lights flashing and an odd sort of siren blaring. John and Ianto ran up the stairs, only to be greeted by a determined looking Jack and an excited looking Sherlock. Owen and Gwen looked thrown by the sudden presence of two men in ridiculous coats.
The clamour ceased as quickly as it had begun.
"Sorry, sorry!" Tosh called, as the dashed over to the group gathered by the sub-atomic etherizer. "Accident. I didn't mean to- but now that you're all here, we've got two Weevils on the corner of Engels and Main. They're big ones, but three people should do it."
"Right." Jack said. "Ianto, and-"
"John, get your bag. We're coming too." Sherlock said.
"What? You're mad." said Owen. "We don't even know who the hell you are."
"I'm sorry, Doctor Harper. I don't believe we've been introduced." Sherlock said, and he was using his most falsely polite expression. "You see, I do believe discretion will be required on this venture, as the location is so close to an all-night supermarket. And I do believe that is a trait you lack, judging by how poorly you are hiding your affair with Miss Cooper. But I suspect most of the world will not be quite as unobservant as her husband. Excuse me, boyfriend."
Gwen turned a bright scarlet, but Tosh smiled into her hand.
"Sorry." John said, knowing that Sherlock wouldn't. "But four is better than three."
"Oh yes it is." Jack said. "Especially this one time, on-"
"Sir." Ianto said, and Jack stopped, much to John's chagrin. He would have liked to see where that story was going.
Owen scoffed. "Like those two would be any help."
"I think we should bring them along." Ianto said, unexpectedly. "Dr. Watson is rather good at unarmed combat."
Jack raised his eyebrows.
"Two tours in Afghanistan." John said. "Well, two and a half. Army doctor, combat experience."
"And it would be better to have three people left here who know the procedure than two and two visitors who would only get in the way." Ianto added.
"Get in the way!" Sherlock said, as if the very idea was beneath him. "I probably know your procedures better than you do."
"Code Blue." Owen challenged.
"Alien viral disease outbreak in cell blocks B through G. Two team members initiate lockdown, the Archives are sealed, and the Hub is placed in quarantine for no less than two days." Sherlock smiled, and added; "Of course, the quarantine will be an exercise in futility unless the east air vent is replaced with a recycler."
John rolled his eyes. Of course Sherlock would want to show off, even if it meant he was directly contradicting the argument which might get them what they wanted.
"Do we even have an east air vent?" Gwen asked.
"I should hope so." Tosh said. "Or else we'd all have suffocated by now.
Sherlock looked at Owen expectantly. "Well? Am I correct?"
Owen baulked. "How the hell should I know?"
"Yes, you are. And you have a good point about the vents." Ianto confirmed.
"Maybe you two should be replacing him." Tosh muttered.
"Oi, don't you start! I want these freaks out of the Hub." Owen said. Sherlock stiffened at the epithet, and John quickly stepped in before he could cast any more aspersions on the volatile man's character.
"I agree, Doctor Harper." John said. "We should leave the Hub immediately. We have a train to catch. But I'm sure we have enough time before then to help Captain Harkness and Mr. Jones catch a few weevils before we go."
"Well done." Sherlock muttered in his ear. Owen sputtered a little, and Tosh and Gwen seemed to be having difficulty holding back their giggles.
Jack deliberated for a few more seconds, then nodded. "Right. Ianto, Holmes, Watson, with me. Tosh, take the headset. Owen, Gwen-"
"Examine Dr. Watson's notes." Ianto slipped in smoothly. "I believe he had found some new evidence on five of the cadavers."
If Sherlock had been anyone else, you might have described his smile as proud. Of course it would take fiddling around with dead bodies to elicit pride in the man, why would John have ever thought any different?
"Well then, what are we waiting for?" said Captain Jack. He and Sherlock swept out the cog door, with John and Ianto following a little ways behind them. They could hear Owen complaining loudly behind them, but they pointedly paid him no mind.
"Thanks, for that." John said quietly to Ianto. "You didn't have to."
"Hey, we're both members of the same very exclusive society. I had to stick up for you."
"Speaking of which, I think we need a new name."
"What? Is there something wrong with well-organized-men-who-make-brilliant-tea-and-were-turned-gay-by-their-mad-bastard-boyfriends-who-wear-silly-coats-anonymous?"
John raised an eyebrow. "I'm impressed you remembered all that."
"Eidetic memory. It comes in handy."
"I'll bet."
"But what else would you suggest calling our organization? I'd be hard-pressed to come up with as accurate a summary as that."
"In two words? Don't ask."
Ianto smiled. "Yes, that does cover it, doesn't it? The DA. Although it's a bit Harry Potter."
"Fine by me."
"Well, then-"
"Would you two hurry up!" Jack yelled, already in the SUV. "The weevils won't catch themselves, you know!"
"We shouldn't keep them waiting." John grinned. "By the way, what's a weevil?"