Title: The Fear of Falling
Author: Published as Finn AUS
Pairing: Jack/Ianto,
Rating: PG-13 Little bit of swearing, but nothing too crazy
Summary: A Meat 2x04 post ep – with a tiny interlude of the last five minutes
Spoilers: Up to and including Meat 2x04
Disclaimer: Yes, yes, we know BBC own them, John Barrowman, Gareth Lloyd-David inhabit them, but please can I play with them?
Feedback: Like that a certain moment in To The Last Man, I love it!
Author Note: My very first Torchwood fic, I’m not quite confident in my Jack and Ianto banter but wanted to roll this baby out before the next episode airs. Another dissatisfied Meat watcher, until you think about a-certain Captain’s moodiness from another perspective. Also, this started so brilliantly in my mind but in writing faded out, so advanced apologies. Hopefully the next muse hangs in there.
He took deep breaths, and closed his eyes. The cupboards were cool against his forehead and it provided some respite to the images flashing through his mind. He could almost hear it, on a continuous loop, the double click of an empty barrel.
Click, click. Shaking himself violently to make the sound recede, Ianto focused on his fingers gripping the tabletop. His thumbs were only now starting to ache, the adrenaline numbing the fact he dislocated both in his effort to free himself. Didn’t know he had that talent but when the time calls for these things, sometimes joints have to move unnaturally.
Click, click. Damn it. He slammed his hand down onto the bench which caused Tosh to raise her head.
‘Out of sugar,’ he smiled, allaying her concern. Focus, breathe, and move. Continue, tick the boxes, check the tasks. Water, that’s right, Jack had asked for a water after Gwen sauntered out with Rhys.
‘Here you go Sir,’ he handed him the bottle, and whilst their fingers grazed momentarily, Jack failed to even look him the eye. Just mumbled a thanks, and then paced his office while Ianto stood there, helpless, hoping for even a moment of worry, or even a congratulations, you handled yourself well today – but no, silence prevailed.
Click, click. Ianto moved forward, quickly, and grabbed the pile of books haphazardly placed on Jack’s desk, tidying, busying himself, doing something. But his fingers had begun to tremble of their own volition and as he turned to shelve the books, they came tumbling out of his hands.
‘Fuck it,’ he cursed, more violently than normal and Jack finally stirred from his melancholy. Still, he said nothing, just walked over to where Ianto was on his knees piling the books and began to help.
Click, click. Then Jack saw it, the tremble, the shake and then he felt it, the unsureness, the lack of confidence that Ianto had begun to encompass. Grabbing his hands, Jack stilled him. And they knelt together in his office for a few moments while Ianto’s breathing slowed, calmed.
‘You were pretty impressive today Ianto,’ Jack murmured.
‘You know me Sir, can’t let you have all the fun,’ he replied, desperate to divert attention from his rapidly crumbling facade.
‘I’d hardly call today fun,’ Jack murmured back.
‘No, me either.’
‘What’s this?’ Jack questioned, gently touching Ianto’s increasingly swollen thumbs.
‘Ah, escaping injury, nothing to worry about,’ he shifted uncomfortably and arose minus the books, just looking for an escape.
‘What’d you do, dislocate your fingers?’ Jack laughed.
‘Yep,’ he replied back.
‘Oh, I didn’t know,’ and he really didn’t.
‘Well, luckily for me they can’t tie ropes or count ammunition, otherwise you’d be short a tea boy.’
‘What?’ Jack was confused.
‘Oh yes, one of the buggers tried to shoot me, thankfully the gun was out.’ Ianto smiled, attempting bravery and falling a little short.
Click, click.
His breath hitched again as he heard it, louder and unfortunately Jack noticed.
‘Hey, hey, sit down, come on’ he guided him towards the chair.
‘Sorry, not quite used to the life and death stuff, just yet ...or that much meat either,’ Ianto sighed.
‘Here, try this,’ and Jack reached into his drawer and pulled out the whiskey, pouring a healthy amount into a glass and handing it towards the still trembling man.
‘Trying to get me pissed in the middle of the afternoon, Sir,’ a vague attempt at lightening the mood.
‘Not today,’ Jack mused. He was about to continue when the unmistakeable sound of the door alarm echoed. Ianto rolled his eyes as he heard Gwen’s voice raised in defiance.
***
And then the air was clear, and silent. She’d left, with Jack storming back past Ianto and him stranded there, unsure. He moved quietly away, toward the kitchen, his whiskey still in hand and no one followed.
Click, click. The whiskey went down fast, faster than he normally would drink it, but fast enough to quieten the sound. And he moved again, moved to collect dishes, moved to sign off on replacement forms, moved to replace resources and reassemble broken items, and moved to avoid it. He didn’t even notice that Tosh and Owen had individually left, leaving a quietened hub and stewing Captain Jack Harkness.
Ianto couldn’t stay for this, he couldn’t act as though the earlier altercation between Gwen and Jack had meant nothing, especially not after Jack’s complete shutdown. God, Ianto had promised himself, time and time again, he was not going to become a sad love-sick git. It led to dangerous places, and dangerous actions. Here he was though, storming around the Hub, longing to be heard, and again, fading into the background. And bugger if that arrogant shite was going to let him feel this way. Grabbing his coat, he headed towards to the exit-
‘Where are you going?’ Jack asked, standing in his doorway, mirroring his earlier stance in front of her.
‘Sorry Sir, thought I’d finished for the day, what did you need?’ Ianto professionally replied.
‘Well, I, I guess I thought you’d stay here,’ the ego was gone, and for a moment Ianto wanted to succumb but no, he would not be a consolation prize.
‘I think it’s a bit crowded in your bed already,’ he curtly replied and tried again for the exit.
‘What the hell does that mean?’ Jack answered, roused from his deflation.
‘Nothing Sir.’
‘Stop fucking calling me Sir, and explain,’ Jack stormed.
‘I know I’m just the tea boy, but I’d rather not be a diversionary shag,’ Ianto steamed.
‘Jesus Christ, are you kidding me?’ Jack yelled towards the ceiling, raising his fists in frustration.
‘If you want her so badly, you should tell her instead of screwing me over’.
‘Her who?’
‘Gwen Bloody Cooper!’ Ianto yelled.
‘Want Gwen?’ And he chuckled.
‘Ianto, I do not want Gwen Bloody Cooper, you daft prick, I want you,’ he smiled.
‘What?’ It was the younger man’s turn to be confused.
‘Yeah, for some reason, I want you in my bed.’
‘Then why the sad eyes just now,’ Ianto, still bewildered.
‘Because, I’m confused,’ Jack stated simply.
‘About what?’
‘About Gwen and Rhys, and whether I retcon him. This is supposed to be a Secret Branch of the Government and we’re not doing a stellar job of the Secret aspect.’
‘Suppose the big black car doesn’t help?’ Ianto replied.
‘No, but my main problem is, I can’t very well demand she stand down because he makes her vulnerable. Pretty damn hypocritical.’
‘Why?’
‘Because you’re beginning to make me just as vulnerable,’ Jack whispered. The two men now stood inches apart, their eyes locked, the air charged.
‘I’m the leader of this team, that’s what I do, and I’m supposed to know better, but when they marched you out there in the ropes today, I just about surrendered.’
‘Usually you like me tied up,’ Ianto joked.
‘Not funny, today that’s not funny. Seriously, what do I next time when you’re held hostage?’
‘There won’t be a next time,’ Ianto soothed.
‘But there’s going to be danger, and I can’t be thinking of you when I’ve got to make some big decisions.’
‘Then what do you suggest?’ Ianto feared the answer.
‘Bed, you in it, and preferably naked but if not I can work around that,’ he smiled.
‘Jack,’ Ianto sighed.
‘I know, but I can’t think about it today. Today you were a hero and I want to show how appreciative I am of that.’
‘Well I definitely think appreciative-ness is an important emotion,’ Ianto grinned. As Jack slowly dragged him towards the office, towards bed, Ianto realized that it was quiet, no clicking, no shaking, or at least of a fear induced nature. And sure, tomorrow was stirring, with its questions and the darkness but tonight, he wanted to forget.
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