(Originally posted 12/03/14)
A/N I live in a houseful of apologies. There are knots in my head that have been hard to unravel.
-OOO-
Toshiko Sato usually slept soundly. Being of a methodical nature, she was adept at arranging her night thoughts into a comprehensive, regulated timetable. Her R.E.M. cycles washed over her with almost digital accuracy. Usually she was the epitome of composure.
Tonight was unusual.
In the back corridor of her mind, she could hear a sound.
A disturbance.
Tap, tap, tap.
It was a monotonous, systematic disturbance.
Tap, tap, tap.
Each tap was tappier than the last.
Tap, tap, tap.
The sound was beginning to cause her teeth to vibrate.
She groaned. She knew this would require more attention than she wanted to give it. Upright, wide-awake attention.
Grief.
Throwing back her goose-down duvet, Tosh moved in the direction of the sound.
The direction of her window.
She was in the habit of leaving her curtains adrift. Always allowing a ribbon of light to be present in the room, meant that Tosh was never totally submerged in darkness. It was a childhood safety-valve that had never been truly shut off.
The taps continued. They sounded sharper now, as though they were meeting an obstacle.
Glass.
Tosh reached her window and peered out, dreamlike.
"Romeo?" She enquired.
"Who?" A voice returned.
"Owen!?"
"You were expecting someone else?"
"What?"
"This Mio guy?"
"Who O?"
"Mio."
"It's Romeo not Mio…have you never heard of the classic play?"
"Nah I'm Sciences not Arts love."
"Oh never mind. What do you want Owen?"
"A straight answer would be nice."
"I mean what are you doing here at dawn-o'-clock?"
Owen shuffled his feet on the loose gravel below.
"We need to talk."
"Now?"
"Looks like it."
"Wait there. I'll come down, let you in."
"Finally." Owen grumbled. "Mission accomplished. It's cold out here; I'm freezing my assets off."
Tosh shot Owen a sharp look through the pane, a quick retort on the tip of her tongue. She went to find a dressing gown.
-O-
Safely ensconced in Tosh's immaculate kitchen, perched at the breakfast bar, Owen took the first breath of the impossibly early morning that did not hurt on the way in.
Tosh busied herself making coffee.
"Sorry it's only instant."
"Where's Tea-boy when you need him?"
"That's not very polite Owen." Tosh gently admonished.
"He doesn't mind." Owen quickly defended himself. "He's used to it …now"
Tosh shook her head, not believing him for a moment. She pushed a-near-to overflowing mug in his direction, and a spoon. She knew how much he liked to stir.
The drink was gratefully received, despite its origins.
"So what's with the break-of-day Morse code?"
"Glad that you recognised it."
"The sound but not the meaning. What's up O?"
"We've hit a problem. Well less of a problem, more of a speed-bump in the road."
"How so?" Tosh took a sip of her beverage. She winced instantly, it was hotter than she was expecting and she opted to blow on it to cool it down.
Her pursed lips grabbed Owen's attention.
He paused.
He swallowed.
He continued.
"My boys think I'm taking the piss. They're not happy."
"Why what's wrong?"
"That DNA sample we gave them, it's a joke. It must've been tampered with."
"It wasn't."
"Well then you must've picked up the wrong hanky, 'cos what they have doesn't work."
"Doesn't work?"
"It's failing all their tests. It isn't even human."
"Not human; but that's impossible."
Owen snorted. "I told them that, but the facts don't lie."
Tosh attempted another sip, she needed the caffeinated clarity that only coffee could bring.
"So what do we do now? Is this a dead-end?"
It took Owen a moment to respond, drawn as he was to the mocha glaze that now dressed Tosh's lips.
"No it's fine, I've sorted it. I've persuaded them to try again. We just need a fresh sample."
"Another sample?" Tosh felt weak. It had taken all of her cunning to obtain the last one. Was she up for this? Looking up straight into Owen's eyes she had her answer.
"When do they need it by?"
Owen exhibited a rare open smile. "Good girl."
-OOO-
Ianto was becoming used to this now. This daily routine that was "getting ready for work".
He welcomed the fact that these familiar movements, allowed him to put his brain on auto-pilot and glide through the breakfast hour. He could wash, dress and colour co-ordinate his outfits with his eyes-closed.
Literally.
His morning commute was equally tranquil. Walking briskly whilst still managing to avoid the cracks in the pavement, took skill, methodology and a touch of mental illness. Ianto knew he was in a class alone.
However even from the other side of the looking glass, Ianto felt happy.
Truly happy.
So happy in fact that he could skip.
He didn't.
Ianto held his face up towards the apprentice sun-rays, which were trying to be so much more. Not even the prospect of being cooped up indoors all day could dampen his spirits.
He glimpsed his workplace up ahead. He made his way towards the main entrance. He allowed the doors to revolve three times before stepping in, missing out the "one for good luck" he usually included.
He felt happy and brave.
-O-
The first person Ianto revolved into was Rhys.
Rhys Williams.
As big, and as bulgingly bicepp-ed as the last time Ianto had seen him.
He held his breath and his nerve.
"Morning."
"Morning Ianto. Good to have you back. You were missed."
Is it? Was I?
Ianto scanned Rhys' face for the hint of sarcasm he felt sure must be nestling there.
He found none.
Rhys merely smiled along with his seemingly genuine greeting, and moved his considerably broad bulk away from Ianto, in the opposite direction. Ianto's light bulb of a mood waned slightly; but then returned to full brightness.
Meltdown avoided.
-O-
Today was already turning out to be topsy-turvy. The turviness continued, Tosh was absent. Tosh was never absent. The sky could fall into the sea and Tosh would still arrive at work on time; however today the clouds still hung above Ianto's head, but Tosh was nowhere to be seen.
This meant that Ianto would be free at lunchtime. Before this notion had had a chance to cross from one side of his brain to the other, Jack had already rung and baggsied his time.
It came with strings attached - of course.
Ianto's mission, should he choose to accept it, was to arrange for a gourmet Thai meal to be delivered to Jack's desk for 12.30.
Ianto's presence was requested for 12.35 (chopsticks optional).
It wasn't a command. Not really, and even if it was Ianto was willing to be compliant.
He wanted to be.
He wasn't ready to look into the reasoning behind this.
This shift.
Not now.
Not today.
12:35. He was punctual; but of course.
So was the food.
Despite the fact they had broken bread before, Ianto watched half fascinated, half disgusted as Jack literally
inhaled his food.
Jack felt his formidable stare and stopped what he was doing.
"What?"
"Or, you could chew."
"Huh?"
"Rumour has it; it's a quirky custom others indulge in."
"Details, smeetails, kiddo. I need to get this fuel inside me a.s.a.p. I've got some romancing to do."
With a cheeky wink Jack resumed his interrupted lunch, well aware Ianto would be appreciative of his energy - later.
-OOO-
Back at his desk Ianto faced a new dilemma, how to be nice to his colleagues (Gwen in particular) and how to keep his eyelids upright.
Food Coma had hit him hard.
Unaccustomed as he was to ingesting heavy carbs in the middle of the day, Ianto felt his whole body falling forwards towards his bench, too many times to be deemed polite. After his head had jerked itself back to its original position for the fourth time, Ianto was willing to admit defeat and curl up under his station to catch some forty-winks. However he could hear buzzing, conversation, nothing that he thought was aimed at him; camaraderie usually hummed straight by him…
"Coffee?"
Ianto knew and liked that word.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Coffee - you look like you could do with one."
Ianto heard angels singing. He turned his head towards the choir, Gwen. Her mass of chestnut curls provided a halo that was easy-on-the-eye.
"Only you'll have to stay awake long enough to tell me how you like it, as I haven't got a Scooby Do."
A gentle smirk passed between them.
"Here I'll show you." Instantly perkier, Ianto was engaged. He'd never knowingly passed up an opportunity to manipulate his magic beans, and he wasn't about to start now. "Follow me" he led the way to his playpen.
It was lucky that they were the only two occupants of the galley that was the staff tea-room.
Gwen was messy.
Incredibly messy.
But enthusiastic.
She haphazardly threw around beans, granules and sugar with the blithe gusto of a teenager, who knows her room will be tidied up by mum. Ianto was appalled and amused in equal measure. He couldn't take it to heart; she was funny, kind too, in a bull in a china shop sort of way. She had potential.
Drinks in hand, (worktops wiped down) they left to return to their desks. Walking in single file seemed the best policy until…
"Hey watch it! Tell me if you're going to stop suddenly." Ianto quickly cradled his cup. Anxious that nothing had spilled.
"Sorry. Hottie alert at 2 o'clock. Don't look."
Ianto did.
"I said don't look." Colour rose on both Gwen's cheeks.
"I have to if I'm going to assess said Hottie." Ianto took another measured look. He wasn't impressed. How to break it to her?
"That's not hot. That's Rhys." Being the messenger Ianto braced himself for gunshot.
"You say tomayto, I say tomato." If Gwen had detected Ianto's sour tone, then she chose to ignore it, for she saw what Ianto couldn't; that if rugby could be personified, it would look like Rhys.
Suddenly aware of a glare, Rhys Williams turned in the direction of his audience.
"Hello again." He nodded his head in recognition of a certain Mr Jones. Gwen spun on her impressive heels.
"You know him?" She exclaimed, her eyes wide, drink forgotten. It was now Ianto's turn to blush.
"Well no, not really. Just his name."
"It doesn't look like he doesn't know you."
"We just passed each other. Today. On the way in." Why Ianto was offering a full and frank explanation, he wasn't sure.
"Where?"
"By the main entrance."
"When?"
"08:37 Captain."
Gwen caught Ianto's eye and burst out laughing, quickly followed by Ianto himself. She rapidly realised how absurd she was being. Trying not to spill a drop of her less than hot refreshment, she continued on her way back to her desk, only craning her neck to stare at Rhys' rear view once.
Ianto followed on, silently sipping on his libation. Second-guessing all possible future moves.
-OOO-
There was nothing Jack liked better than a rendezvous. He even loved the word. It reminded him of damsels in distress, illicit assignations and dalliances in the darkness. It had 17th century written all over it (those were the days). Often Jack felt the modern era was too sterile for romance to truly flourish. He aimed to rectify that.
Feeling energised and antsy, Jack beckoned his favourite Welshman towards him via text.
It wasn't a summons.
Not really.
It was more of an impassioned plea, with a hint of hands on activity.
He knew Ianto would read between the lines.
At 18:04 Ianto arrived flushed at his door having forsaken the lift in lieu of the stairs.
He was keen.
Before a word had been said Jack had his man pressed up against the frosted glass, unzipped and panting.
His mouth found his tender spot on his neck.
His lips got to work.
Ianto threw his head back, drinking in every drop Jack could give.
Jack's swashbuckling bracelets provided the soundtrack to their tryst, his hand pumping overtime for both their benefits. Ianto voiced his appreciation loudly.
A little too loudly.
There was a tap on the steamed up glass.
A light was shone on the suspects.
"Excuse me gentlemen."
"Just a sec." Jack nonchalantly responded.
"Sirs - please."
"Two more secs please, nearly there."
"I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to vacate the building- now."
Jack groaned, "ok, ok, my balloon's deflated anyway." Disappointment filled the air.
Ianto rigid with embarrassment was doing his best to hide behind his paramour. Unable to look either man in the eye, Ianto righted himself, zipped up and silently passed Jack a wet-wipe.
This thoughtful gesture caught Jack's attention more than the appearance of the security guard.
"You really think of everything don't you?"
"The Scouts Motto: Be Prepared."
"They must really miss you."
Ianto didn't know whether to be pleased or insulted, so he merely rolled his eyes.
-O-
The ride home had been pleasant. Jack had offered Ianto a lift, it was the least he could do. Ianto had noted that he had driven one-handed, his free hand never leaving his right thigh.
This is nice.
Jack even walked Ianto to his front door.
Thoughtful.
Although he didn't invite himself in.
Mindful of Ianto's probable stance on PDA's Jack gave his man a heartfelt shoulder squeeze instead.
"This Mr Jones is to be continued."
As he turned to walk away Ianto could only wonder, but for how long Captain Harkness, how long?
-OOO-
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