This snippet is inspired by recent RL events and based on an incident in the Dr Who episode 'Tooth and claw' (Expect spoilers if you haven't seen that, but you should watch it anyway. Apart from being a great episode, it results in the founding of Torchwood). The main thing you need to know before reading is that Queen Victoria was exposed to werewolves, with the implication that the 'disease' would be passed down. Hope you enjoy.
Gwen bustled around the Hub with stars in her eyes. Cleaning and tidying and yelling fiercely at anyone who wasn't joining in the effort to eradicate years of grime.
Anyone except Ianto. Ianto was exempt from his usual duties today so that he could – as Gwen announced in hushed tones - 'Prepare'.
Ianto rescued his coffee mug before Gwen took it away to wash it. It had taken quite a while to get the inner patina the way he liked it and he didn't want to risk Gwen scrubbing it all away. Ianto sighed happily and leaned back in his chair, reveling in the sight of someone else dealing with the chaos.
"We should have illustrious guests more often," the young Welshman noted, with an uncharacteristically huge grin decorating his face.
"Who'd have thought she'd be the star-struck sort?" Jack agreed. His own smile spread as Gwen performed a creditable impression of a fishwife at the sight of the Autopsy Bay.
"You'd think she'd be used to it," Ianto commented, chuckling. Owen's protests weakened beneath the torrent of abuse, and silenced altogether when Gwen clattered down the staircase. "I mean, we're right under the Millennium Centre. She sees celebrities all the time."
Tosh shook her head at them from across the expanse of desks. "Men," she said, with no little amount of exasperation. "Do I really need to explain?"
Tosh had escaped Gwen's cleanup campaign, apart from having to empty her half-full wastepaper bin. Ianto suspected she might even be in collusion with it. Admittedly, Tosh's workstation was usually ordered, but today it shone. Polish had been applied, post-it notes removed, and none of it Ianto's doing. All the evidence suggested Tosh wasn't unaffected.
"I'm having such a nice day," Ianto commented. "And yes Tosh, please explain. If I understand the forces at work here, I might be able to replicate them." He sighed and glanced approvingly at the gleaming surfaces of the Hub. Gwen had gone to the extent of taking a scrubbing brush to the walls. She couldn't remove the ingrained dirt of years, but some of more recent blobs were fainter, at least. "And I want to recreate this," Ianto added. "As often as possible."
So do I, Jack thought dreamily. He wouldn't admit it, except perhaps under torture, but his current happiness level had nothing to do with the pending arrival of their esteemed guest. He was, however, quite taken with the sight of a certain Welshman sprawled in his chair, relaxed for a change, and showing every sign of contentment. Jack would happily give far more than a tidy Hub to see this again.
Tosh smiled and made her way around the desks, dropping into the one beside Ianto. Jack wasn't using it. He was perched on the desk instead, looking down at Ianto with a sweet smile that made Tosh feel warm inside. Owen would be retching.
"You'll need another Royal Wedding," Tosh advised. "It's the princess thing. Every girl dreams of being one. If you can't have that, meeting one's next best."
"She isn't a princess yet," Jack objected.
Tosh waved a hand. "As good as. She's qualified for 'The Talk', hasn't she?"
Ianto nodded. "An introduction to the Care and Management of werewolves in English Royal Society. To be delivered by my humble self in," he checked his stopwatch, "Three hours. Think Gwen can keep the excitement going until then?"
"I'd say so," Jack answered, jerking his chin. Heads turned to watch Gwen as she flitted up the stairs from the Autopsy Bay, sporting a victorious smile. It was entirely possible that her feet weren't touching the steps. "He'll have it clear," she reported. "I had to threaten him a bit."
Gwen smiled brightly, turning the full wattage of her most endearing gap-toothed smile onto Ianto. "No coffee for a week if he doesn't. You'll back me, Ianto, won't you?" Which explained why Ianto was getting the smile usually reserved for Jack.
If it got the Autopsy Bay clean without getting Ianto up to elbows in entrails, though, he was all for it. "I will," Ianto agreed. "Have to warn you, though, it doesn't work for me. Owen doesn't mind Starbucks, at a pinch."
Gwen raised her hand, revealing a plastic rectangle. "I've got his loyalty card," she said smugly. "He's due a free one, see?"
It was a master stroke. Owen wouldn't pay for a coffee when he had a free cup owing. She had him. Gwen curtseyed daintily in response to the ensuing patter of applause, making use of the gesture she'd been practicing for the last month. After which she found an unoccupied chair and rolled towards the others, coming to rest not far from Ianto and pinning him with a speculative stare.
"Aren't you nervous, Ianto?" she asked, eyes wide.
"Why aren't you nervous?" Tosh corrected.
"He's done it before," Jack said, his body suddenly tense. "Last century."
"For the last wedding," Ianto explained. "In 1999."
It was a subtle movement, but Tosh noticed Ianto's hand rise to rest on Jack's leg. Owen would have retched again, but Tosh knew he was only providing reassurance. That was a bad year for Jack. The end of it, at least.
"You were still at One, then," Gwen prompted. Her eyes had gone soft, too.
Ianto nodded. His hand closed on Jack's leg, squeezing gently. Tosh strongly suspected it was for his own comfort this time and his next words confirmed that. "Lisa was as much in a flap as you girls are. Changed her mind about which suit I was allowed to wear at least three times." He smiled gently, a wistful smile. "I had to ban her from my wardrobe for the duration." Jack's hand moved to cover Ianto's. Both girls pretended they didn't see the way the men's fingers entwined. It was a special occasion, and they should be allowed to maintain the fiction that they Didn't Bring It Into Work.
"Don't know why Yvonne picked me, really," Ianto continued modestly. "Any of the other researchers would have done just as well."
He smiled impishly up at Jack, looking very young as he blatantly fished for compliments. The soothing touches had done their work. Jack reached forward to tousle Ianto's hair. "None of them could possibly match your charm," he said playfully
Gwen screeched and smacked Jack's hand away. "Don't mess up his hair," she scolded.
Jack removed his hand, resting it carefully by his side where Gwen wouldn't reach it if he re-offended. And where, incidentally, it was in the perfect spot for Ianto to stroke until the sting from Gwen's slap subsided.
"And I bet you looked the best in a suit, too," Jack continued, as if there'd been no intervening incidence of domestic violence.
"Not to mention a voice the BBC would kill for," Tosh added, doing her bit to add to Ianto's ever-shaky self-esteem, which was getting quite a boost today.
"You must have done a splendid job, if they requested you again," Gwen put in. "And she had Welsh ancestry, too, didn't she?"
"And Scottish, I think," Ianto answered, gathering his thoughts, which were getting quite scattered under the onslaught of attention. He was determined not to let any of this go to his head, though. Yes, a personal request from Her Majesty was quite flattering, but even that paled somewhat beside the novelty of Gwen looking at him with respect.
Ianto knew it wouldn't last, which was something of a relief. The appeal of being the centre of attention had its limits, and Ianto was rapidly approaching them. It ought, he thought reflectively, to begin winding down after today. Or after The Wedding, at least. Ianto estimated he'd be back to shoveling pteranodon poo by the end of next week.
Gwen and Tosh were still looking at him as if he had the answer to the meaning of life, though, so Ianto pulled his thoughts into order and continued.
"She was quite lovely, and took it all very well. I suppose it has to be easier when the bridegroom isn't one of those carrying the gene."
Tosh and Gwen leaned further forward, enthralled.
"I thought they all had it," Tosh said breathlessly.
The proximity of his two female team-mates was starting to make Ianto feel a bit flustered. Any closer and one or both of them would be on his lap. And Jack was still perched right in front of him. Ianto paused to wonder whether this was in fact one of his fantasies come true and concluded it was quite possible, especially given that Owen was still clattering about in the Autopsy Bay.
The girls were waiting for a response. Where was he again? Oh yes.
"Previous generations did," Ianto confirmed. "But…um….the current Monarch has been quite amenable to Torchwood's recommendations for ….um…..limiting the possibilities of …..err…."
"Inbreeding," Jack supplied breezily. He shouldn't be enjoying this, but a flustered Ianto was a very cute Ianto. "And getting some common blood into the line helped as well. Crossbreeding always helps with this sort of thing."
Ianto gulped. "It's a recessive gene," he explained. Tosh nodded. Gwen frowned.
"Tough strain, your English commons are," Jack elaborated. "Resist the gene quite nicely."
Ianto gaped. It seemed a very disrespectful way to discuss the Royal bloodline, but he couldn't think of an easier way to explain, and Gwen's perfume was making him lightheaded, so he merely plunged onwards. "Regardless of how, it seems to be working. The current generation exhibits only fifty percent inheritance of the gene."
"So half of them are werewolves," Gwen said, eyes wider than seemed humanly possible.
"Which ones?" Tosh asked eagerly.
Ianto raised an eyebrow at Jack in a silent appeal. "I only know the current generation," he hedged.
"Allow me then," Jack offered, correctly interpreting the eyebrow and deciding reluctantly to let Ianto off the hook. His Welshman had done well, but he obviously wanted to escape the spotlight, and he did have other responsibilities today. And now that Jack thought about it, he seemed to remember he was supposed to have conducted a team brief on this very subject. A week ago, possibly two.
The girls' eyes turned to Jack, and he felt Ianto relax even though they weren't touching anymore. A bit of an oversight, that, and it ought to be remedied. Jack's smile spread. Ianto would be very wound up by the end of the day. He was bound to need help to relax, and Jack was just the man to provide that sort of assistance.
"Actually, Owen might want to hear this, too, given the genetic aspect," Jack said briskly. He paused to bellow for the medic, then turned back. "We might as well take this into the conference room."
"Coffee all around?" Ianto offered, practically leaping for the kitchen.
Gwen's hand landed firmly on his shoulder. "Let me check the autopsy bay first," she said ominously.
"We'll meet in an hour," Jack decided. He didn't expect anyone to get any work done in the interim, but it would give Owen time to earn his coffee. And Ianto needed an opportunity to restore his hair to a level of smoothness acceptable to Gwen, who was rapidly becoming a more fearful audience than a soon-to-be princess of the Realm.
Jack watched the team disperse, and wondered how he'd fill the time until the briefing without inadvertently smudging one of the gleaming surfaces of the Hub, with the inherent risk of reawakening Gwen's wrath. Then it occurred to him that Ianto shouldn't have to wait until tonight to have his stress levels reduced, and suddenly an hour didn't seem quite long enough.
Ianto's hair was already untidy anyway.
I've tried to make it clear who I'm referring to, but it's a bit awkward given the site's ban on using any actual people! Hope you worked it out. *winks* Feel free to PM me if anything's unclear.