Stimulus: Bad Ideas
Spoilers: None
POV: Ianto (I have such a big thing for those beautiful welsh vowels…)
Dedication: To Gareth David-Lloyd (again), and all the vowels he ever has or ever will say.
Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood. If I did, there would be at least three episodes dedicated completely to Janto/welsh vowels. SO good.
AN: Excuse me while I melt with the pure fluffiness of my next project, 'Alternative Ending'… it's dedicated completely to the Janto universe and all that that entails. Hope to see you there…? In the meantime, check out 'Better Left Unsaid' by Captain-Ally :)
-x-
Ianto stifled what had to be the twentieth yawn that night. Long nights: that was what Torchwood meant. Long, long nights. That and the assorted sexual harassment of your Captain. Although Ianto suspected it was only Torchwood Three that dealt with that sort of thing.
Succumbing momentarily to the exhaustion, the young Welshman stumbled over to the coffee machine and switched it on. Trying not to nod off, he poured himself a cup and cradled it in his scarred hands, trying to convince himself that going to sleep would be a very bad idea.
Ten minutes later, he was alerted by a sudden clang somewhere to his left. Shaking his head experimentally – he had not been asleep – he drew his gun and made his way over to his workstation. He frowned at the monitor – he didn't remember switching it off…
"Y'know, when I think the words 'Ianto's weapon' that isn't entirely the first thing that comes to mind."
Ianto grinned, holstering the weapon. "So what do you think of? Do tell."
"I think I can show you…"
The Welshman didn't hesitate in downing his coffee and turning to face his captain. "By all means… go ahead."
He'd been right; falling asleep would have been a very, very bad idea.