Title: The Supremacy of the Suit
Author: Grayswandir
Fandom: Torchwood, MIB
A/N: For those unable to read the warning (on prominent display in the summary), this fic will contain Gwen!bashing. I do not support her as a team member. She is very much stuck in her little universe of everything is black and white. Sorry, she is dumb to some extent in all my interpretations. (This message is meant for a specific reviewer, but as the person has blocked PMs, I could not send it out to them specifically.) Now back to the semi-regularly scheduled program.
~ TW MIB ~
Gwen was furious at her coworker. How dare he not share intel! "Ianto, how do you know who these people are?"
Ianto, recovered from his spat of humor, rounded on his Welsh friend to respond. "I know everything."
Jay laughed. This kid is going to give Kay a run for his money. "Yeah, I know this trick. What's the real truth?"
A slight smirk lit across the young man's face as he turned on the darker agent. "I do know everything." Walking past both of the MiB staff members, he added. "I'm also the archivist. I know how to look up the facts."
"I hate it when he does that!" Gwen growled. Turning to face the two agents, she plastered on her wide doe eyes and gap-toothed smile. "At least with both of you around, he won't be able to pull that stunt, yeah?"
Kay shrugged, following the young Welshman to the front door.
Jay smiled, tucking away his sunglasses. "Unfortunately, Kay can be just as bad." Seeing the other half of the party disappear behind the double door entrance, he gestured outward. "Shall we?"
Gwen huffed as she tagged along aside Jay, following in the wake of the other two. "Don't understand why I'm here. I've been in Torchwood for nearly a year, even been in command."
Jay quietly rolled his eyes as he pulled the door open. Doubt you were in charge. Command, sure. In charge? No. Jay was pleasantly surprised to see the other two were still waiting inside the entry hallway. Kay standing by the elevator doors, the kid stood near the seated guard, apparently carrying on a conversation from a past encounter.
"You still drink hazelnut with a pinch of cinnamon?" Ianto asked, wrapping up his conversation.
The guard moaned, almost obscenely. "That would be heavenly."
Gwen frowned at Ianto, disapprovingly. "Why would you remember that information, Ianto? It's not like he's important." All four males winced minutely at the crass statement.
Ianto turned his own blank face away from his foot-in-mouth associate and tweaked a polite smile the guard's way. "It would be my pleasure." Joining the senior agent at the elevator doors, Ianto took a deep breath in irritation. "So. What's first on the agenda?"
Kay smirked internally as the two others joined them in the elevator. "Let's put it on." He said in his normal deadpan rhythm.
"Put what on?" Gwen chirped happily.
"The last suit you're…" Jay groaned as he saw the quiet smirks on the other males' faces. "The uniform you'll wear while here." He amended, painfully aware of the mischievous eyes glued to him.
~ TW MIB ~
Gwen frowned as she saw the clothing in the locker before her. It was a dull black and white suit that flashed her back to the uniform she wore as a constable. "I'm not wearing that! No chance."
Kay's face morphed into a blank mask of no-nonsense. "While you are here at MiB, you will comply with MiB sanctions. You will eat where we tell you, dress as we tell you, and do as we tell you. You would also live where we tell you, however, as you are Torchwood, we cannot enforce that guideline."
"There are worse outfits to wear." Ianto interceded as he exited from the dressing chamber, his own suit hanging neatly from the hanger. Silently, he bemoaned the loss of color in his wardrobe. Two weeks. Just two weeks, and I'll be back to the sexual harassment and random snoggings.
"Easy for you to say, Ianto." Gwen scoffed. "You choose to wear a suit every day to work. It's part of your identity."
"Hasn't always been." Ianto ground out tersely before heading off to the next room, Jay following behind.
Kay stood, irritated with the woman after a bare five minutes with her. "We operate entirely in secret. Anonymity is our name. You will wear the uniform or you will be returned to your boss without training. Unless I'm mistaken, this training is mandatory." A sardonic brow raise followed.
"Fine." Gwen growled, roughly tugging the uniform from the locker before her.
~ TW MIB ~
Ianto valiantly refrained from laughing as Gwen fidgeted incessantly while they both filled out the written test form. Kay had forced her to pull her flyaway hair up into a professionally tight bun to fit with the quaffed persona that MiB agents exuded. The suit fit properly on her, not snug or tight, nor loose. The row she began, complaining about the loss of her sexual appeal, had been abruptly halted when Jay announced the exam room was ready.
Thankfully, the exam room was different from the one Ianto had the mixed pleasure of visiting on his last round in the States. The chairs were the same egg shaped white but there were bar height tables available to the side, cleverly concealed behind fake shrubbery. Lazily filling out the front page of the exceedingly floppy A3 size exam packet, Ianto watched as Gwen cursed, perforating the paper with her pencil tip. Looking to the biro safely sitting in his own hand, Ianto smirked. Always at the ready.
Finished with the front page, Ianto spied his neighbor's position on the page before fluidly rising to avail himself of the hidden hard surface. Safely hidden away, he opened his packet and swiftly filled in the blanks making it to the third page before a resounding rip filled the air followed by an indignant cry from the Welshwoman. Unable to stop himself, Ianto crumpled halfway to the floor before straightening. Maybe two weeks of wearing the funeral attire will be worth it.
~ TW MIB ~
Jay, Kay and Ianto stood outside the exam room, watching as Gwen worked on destroying a third test packet. Jay blanched as he watched her tear apart the packet before moving to the next seat. "And you let her carry a gun?"
"Of course." Ianto replied in nonchalance. Both agents turned incredulous looks on the Welshman. A quiet smirk lit his face. "Loaded with blanks. She has yet to tell the difference between a .22, .38, and a .453."
TBC
