SPLASH

Chapter Ten

So here it is! Chapter 10! I can barely believe it...this is the longest story I've done on FF so far! –round of applause-

Does anybody else ever have trouble with how to label Jack and Ianto's relationship? Since the 'Date scene' in KKBB, are they officially boyfriends? Or what? Help would be much appreciated!

Here you go then...

Disclaimer: I've asked for Torchwood for my birthday in a couple of weeks AND for Christmas. Does that count?

Owen sat in his cabin and stared at the wall.

He was bored. No, bored was an understatement. Owen was so bored that he would have welcomed even some paperwork, much as he loathed doing it. That was how bored he was.

Who wouldn't be bored, sitting by themselves on a darkened boat with nothing to do all night? Usually Owen would walk at night, just walk. Anywhere. Everywhere. He had already worn out a couple of pairs of shoes in his nightly wanderings.

But he was on a boat. He couldn't go off for a walk now. He had to just sit there and be quiet. And bored.

Owen wriggled, trying to get more comfortable.

He leaned his head back against the polished wooden wall and tried to think of something interesting.

Dissecting Weevils? Nope.

Jack and Ianto having sex? No way. Just...no.

How to get Gwen to lend him her phone so he could prank call everybody on her Contacts list? No. Already done that once – his left ear had never felt the same since.

What to do?

If Owen had still breath, he would have sighed. Loudly. But he didn't, so couldn't. He couldn't work out how he could still talk, when he had no breath, but he didn't really care, grateful for small mercies.

Suddenly a light flicked on in the main cabin and Jack's voice boomed through the boat.

"Right, kids – time to get up!"

Owen rolled his eyes and kicked open his door.

"I wouldn't do that, Owen," Ianto said seriously. He was, surprisingly, in a pair of jeans and a grey sweater, not to mention in trainers. "We do have to pay if we damage the boat, Torchwood mission or not."

Jack grinned and stretched, yawning. "We'll say that aliens did it. Then we won't be liable."

"In your dreams, Jack," Ianto replied, with a half smile.

"Actually, I dreamt about-"

"Yeah, wonderfully erotic as I'm sure your dreams are, Jack, we don't really wanna hear about them," Owen interrupted, doing up the laces on his trainers.

"Spoilsport. Now, down to business – namely, breakfast!" Jack grinned and wandered over to the cupboards, opening them all and rooting around inside. "I'm sure we have some here, somewhere..." he muttered.

Ianto and Owen stared at him.

"Er – Jack? What are you doing?" Ianto asked.

Jack turned to look at them in surprise. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

Owen had the perfect retort, but the captain ploughed on. "I'm making- aha! There you are, you little devil!" he exclaimed, pulling out a loaf of bread.

"What?" said Ianto, puzzled and slightly worried.

"I'm making toast!" Jack announced grandly, grabbing the toaster and jamming in some slices.

"What?" Ianto repeated, sure he must have heard wrong. "You – making toast?"

Jack looked hurt. "I can make toast."

"Last time you tried, you nearly blew up my kitchen," Ianto pointed out.

-----

Ianto rushed out of the bedroom, half-dressed. Black smoke was billowing from the kitchen.

"Jack?" he yelled in confusion.

"Ianto!" Jack emerged from the smoke, waving a plate in the air. "I did it – I worked out your toaster!"

"Jack."

"Yeah?"

"Why is there smoke?"

Jack looked guilty. "Ah. Sorry about that... it went a bit wrong."

He held out the plate, on which there was a blackened square of what was barely recognisable as toast.

"Right."

"Sorry?" Jack tried.

"You tried to blow up my kitchen?"

"Not on purpose, no-" Jack was clearly uncomfortable.

"There is smoke coming from the toaster."

"Yeah."

"What are you going to do?"

"Say sorry?"

"And?"
Jack looked lost. "What?"

"Possibly get the kitchen sorted?"

"Right. OK. Sorry. Will do."

-----

"But that was an accident!" Jack protested. "I can make toast, y'know."

Ianto raised an eyebrow and turned on the coffee machine.

"Look, just try not to blow up the boat by making toast, 'kay?" Owen asked, flopping in the saloon.

Gwen opened her door, brushing her hair and still in her pyjamas. "What's going on?" she asked.

"I smell toast," Toshiko added, slipping past her and sitting next to Owen, already dressed and wide-awake.

"Jack's making it," Owen explained.

Gwen froze in her hair-brushing. "You have got to be kidding me," she said, amused.

Toshiko bit her lip, hiding a giggle behind a polite hand.

"Jack's making us breakfast?" Gwen asked in delight, resuming her hair-brushing. She grinned, showing off the gap that had caused her so much grief from Owen in the past. "That is really weird."

Jack presented a plate of toast, setting it down on the table with a grin. "There you go. Told you I could do it."

Ianto and Owen both rolled their eyes at exactly the same time.

Gwen giggled.

Jack whirled around. "What? Have I got something on my back?"
"You – you're going domestic!"

Jack looked taken aback. "What?"

"You are going domestic," Gwen repeated. "Now, if you'd excuse me, I'd like to close this door whilst I change."

"No, don't," Owen said, earning himself a glare and the finger from the Welshwoman.

Jack turned to Toshiko and Ianto is disbelief. "I don't do domestic. There are thousands of people across the universe that would agree with me."

"Sir, let me remind you of the time I found you doing the washing-up in marigolds and an apron, humming-"

"Yeah, yeah!" Jack said quickly, sitting down. "That was once. For your birthday."

There was a delighted squeal from Gwen and Toshiko's cabin, and seconds later, Gwen emerged, fully dressed.

"You did the washing up?" she asked, stealing a piece of toast and examining it carefully.

"In marigolds?" Toshiko asked incredulously, also taking a piece of toast.

"And an apron?" Owen smirked. "Well I never, teaboy's turned Captain Impossible well and truly domestic."

"Captain John was right when he said you were the wife," Gwen grinned through a mouthful of toast. "Actually, this toast isn't so bad."

"See?"

Ianto raised his eyebrow. "Right, so you can cook the roast when my sister and nephew are coming for lunch."

"They are?" Jack asked in shock. "When?"

"The weekend after we get back," Ianto informed him, taking some toast. "Pass the jam, will you?"

-T-

Ianto and Gwen were doing the washing-up twenty minutes later, Gwen washing and Ianto drying.

Jack was bent over the Sat-Nav with Toshiko as they planned their course, Owen being generally unhelpful and getting in the way.

Suddenly the VHF radio crackled into life. Everybody jumped as a voice echoed through the cabin.

"...Ianto Jones..."

Ianto paled. "Shit," he whispered, dropping the dishcloth.

"...help...us..."

Jack was instantly by the chart table, the radio in hand. He was staring intensely at it, listening to the splashing sounds and the rattling breathing.

"...Harkness..."

Jack's eyes widened.

"...so...sorry..."

Interference crackled crazily, blocking out anything else the voice might have to say.

Jack threw down the radio. "Tosh, see if you can find out where the call was made-"

"On it."

"-Owen, finish off the washing up with Gwen-"

"Why me?"

Jack ignored the doctor and touched Ianto on the shoulder. "You OK?" he asked gently.

Ianto sat down. Hard. "Head-ache," he muttered, putting a hand to his temple.

Jack stroked his back reassuringly.

Suddenly, Ianto slumped, unconscious.

Oops. Cliffie.

R&R? Please? It makes me happy, and a happy writer is a productive writer.

AN: I like domestic Janto. It's fun.