m_findlow

Title: Sweet disposition
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack, Torchwood team
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 3,005 words
Content notes: Written for Challenge 11- Sugar at beattheblackdog
Summary: Sugar and spice are not always so nice

Jack could smell the delicious brew long before it reached its rightful place on his desk. He managed a brief smile for the man who delivered it, and received one in return, before refocusing his efforts on the enormous pile of paperwork in front of him.

It didn't last though. The heavenly aroma wafting from the mug was more than he could bear to ignore any longer. How could something so simple smell so good? He cupped the warm mug in his hands, breathing in a large lungful of it before bringing it to his lips and taking his customary large slurp.

The taste assaulted his senses. Oh, sweet goddesses, it was awful! It was as if someone had liquefied a garbage tip and poured it into his mug. What on earth was that? He spat it back out into the mug and contorted his face, the taste still in his mouth, lingering.

What had he done to deserve this? Even his most offensive efforts had only ever earned him instant decaf before. This was a whole other echelon of horrible. No, Ianto would never stoop that low.

'Ianto!' His voice boomed out across the whole hub. It was so loud that Janet probably would have heard it several floors beneath the main level of the hub.

Ianto appeared in the doorway, calm and collected, though sensing Jack's displeasure at something.

'Care to explain this?' Jack asked, lifting the mug off the desk.

Ianto quirked an eyebrow at him, confused. Translating for Jack was a fine art he was still in the process of mastering.

'Okay, let me be clearer. What the hell did I do to piss you off?'

Ianto looked even more confused. 'You haven't done anything. I don't think,' he added, wondering if there was something he hadn't yet discovered that should warrant punishment.

Jack seemed to sense the sincerity in his reply. Then it dawned on him. It tasted bad for a totally different reason.

'What did you do to my coffee? Is it poisoned?'

'No!' he cried, bewildered.

'Then why does it taste so bad?'

'There's nothing wrong with it!' Ianto raised his voice, offended at the suggestion. 'I made it the same way I make it every day, not that you'd notice half the time. Sometimes I don't know why I bother.'

'Fine, then. If there's nothing wrong with it, then you drink it. Prove it.'

Ianto scowled in annoyance. First Jack was insulting his coffee, and now he wanted him to drink it? He accepted that no one drank their coffee the way Jack did, double shot espresso and four teaspoons of sugar. They'd coined it as "industrial strength", and only Jack had the cast iron stomach to digest it. In Ianto's opinion, all that sugar ruined the delicate flavour. Half a teaspoon was perfect just to take the edge off the bitter tannins.

'I'm not drinking that,' he insisted.

'So it is poisoned?'

'No! Would you stop being so ridiculous?'

Jack decided he'd had enough playing games. It was clear that this was not Ianto. He stood up and grabbed him by the back of his collar, twisting his arm up behind his back, and dragged him out of his office. Ianto struggled, but not overly hard. Jack had clearly lost his mind.

'Don't drink the coffee!' he yelled loudly at the team, who stared in shock at the sight of Ianto being dragged across the hub.

'Jack, what the hell are you doing?' Gwen asked.

'I'm taking him down to the cells. He's either possessed or some kind of shape shifter.'

'Please tell me this isn't one of these weird role play games, Harkness,' Owen groaned.

'No jokes, Owen. I want him tested. And the coffee. He tried to poison me. Badly I might add. He might have done the same to yours.'

Gwen paled. 'I already drank mine.'

'You couldn't tell?' Jack said incredulously.

'Because it's not bloody poisoned, you stupid git!' Ianto growled.

'Shut up and move!' Jack replied as he shoved Ianto down the hall and away towards the cells.

The rest of the team sat there stunned. Had that really happened? Sure, Torchwood was fully of aliens, and being possessed was sometimes part of the job, but had an assassin really taken over Ianto?

'Gwen,' Owen's voice shook her from her thoughts. 'Let's get you tested, just to be safe.'

Gwen's results came back clear, which was a huge relief. The samples from all of their coffee mugs, including Jack's, had also come back totally normal.

After fours hours cooped up in the cells, all of Ianto's tests had also come back, putting him in the clear. Jack reluctantly unlocked the cell door and let Ianto out. He wanted to punch Jack, but satisfied himself with a slap to his face instead. He'd been in full on sulk mode for hours, and rightfully so.

'I suppose you think I deserved that?' Jack asked.

'And more probably. I know it's your job, but could you perhaps resist jumping to insane conclusions before you've eliminated the more obvious alternatives?'

'So no chance of coffee?' Jack implored hopefully.

'I'll think about it,' he replied, storming past Jack to rekindle some of his dignity. 'Then again, maybe I'll just put you on decaf for a month.'

No sooner had Ianto been emancipated, than he had to trundle off to fetch lunch for the team. The array of sandwiches and pasties adorned the boardroom table as they made it a working lunch, allowing Tosh to run through what would be an otherwise boring report without the distraction of food.

Ianto tried not to take offense to Jack's opting for a glass of water, whilst the rest of them stuck to their mugs of steaming coffee, a show of support he gratefully appreciated.

Jack reached forward in typical fashion, having a reverse lunch, starting with pastries and then diverting to sandwiches. Owen hated it because it ensured Jack always got the best of the assorted pastries before anyone else.

Just as Tosh was beginning her briefing, there was a hacking sound from the top of the table. Four faces turned toward the sound.

'Oh my God,' said Gwen, 'is he choking?'

Jack was spitting out the large mouthful of chocolate muffin, much to the chagrin of everyone bearing witness.

'What's wrong with you, today?' Ianto complained.

'Blech! That tastes even worse than the coffee this morning.'

'Stop being such a child,' he chastised. He broke off a piece of the muffin and ate it. 'See, it tastes fine. No poison. I didn't even make the damn thing.'

Jack looked horrified that Ianto had eaten it. 'But it's,' he protested.

'It's what, Jack?' Ianto said, narrowing his eyes at him and daring him to explain himself.

'Teaboy's right,' said Owen. 'It tastes fine to me too.'

'Are you saying there's something wrong with my taste buds?'

'That would be the logical conclusion,' Ianto muttered, earning himself a scowl from Jack.

Jack huffed as he perched himself on the edge of Owen's autopsy table.

'I feel fine,' he repeated.

'Sure. You've just accused the team of trying to poison you, and locked up your boyfriend in the cells for a few hours. Apart from that you're perfectly normal.'

Jack let out a vexed sound.

'Normal scans and blood results have come back fine. Time for something more refined.'

He placed an odd shaped hair net on Jack's head, with lots of tiny metal probes sticking out of it. He injected a clear gel into the probes, and Jack winced as the cold gel seeped through the cap and into his scalp underneath.

'What's this for?'

'Helps conduct the electrical signals from your brain into the receptors.'

'You look very attractive,' Ianto added, leaning over the railing and watching them.

'Why do I get the feeling you're enjoying this?'

'I can't imagine why you'd think that.'

Owen smirked. Ianto deserved a bit of revenge after this morning's efforts and he was happy to help facilitate it.

'Okay, Jack. Time to see what's going on inside that head of yours.'

'You only had to ask,' Jack quipped.

'It's not that sort of scan,' Owen replied dryly. 'I think we know all too well, already.'

Owen had lined up a series of little cups, each with a small amount of liquid in it.

'I want you to try each of these and tell me what you can taste.'

'You're not going to swab my tongue?'

'The theory that different parts of the mouth taste different things was debunked years ago. Drink,' he instructed.

Jack picked up the first one and swilled it around his mouth, spitting it out fairly quickly. Owen offered him a glass of fresh water to remove the taste.

'Urgh, that's definitely salt!'

'Okay, next one.'

The second lasted only slightly longer than the first.

'That's the sourest lemon I've ever tasted.' He pursed his lips tightly, and Ianto laughed at the sight.

'I take back what I said earlier,' Ianto interjected, 'I am quite enjoying myself now.'

'How many times do I have to say I'm sorry?' Jack whined.

'A few more yet.'

'Ahem,' Owen coughed. 'If we could keep going?'

They went through a series of tastes. Chilli, peppermint, ginger, something metallic Jack couldn't identify but said it tasted like blood, vinegar, tea, and a few others. Each produced its own expression on his face, but none compared to the results when he tried various versions of sweet. From straight up sugar, to banana to chocolate. Each produced a violent reaction on his taste buds.

Owen studied the encephalograph readings. 'It looks like your neural pathways have rewritten themselves to react to sweet sensations, causing your brain to overload with negative responses and reject them.'

'How it that possible?' Ianto asked.

'No idea.'

'Can you fix it?' Jack demanded.

'Sure, I'll just plug my computer into your brain and reprogram your neurons,' Owen snarked. 'We understand less than one percent of how the human brain works. Without knowing what caused it, there's no way of knowing how to even begin to fix it. It might be a temporary thing. Who knows.'

'Well,' said Ianto, coming down to offer support, 'looks like I'll finally get you on that diet now, at least.'

'Always looking on the bright side, aren't you?' Jack sighed, resignedly.

The next morning, Ianto entered Jack's office, armed with a cup and bowl. Jack looked despondently down at the contents.

'Weetabix and tea? Couldn't I just have buttered toast?'

'You'd be amazed how much sugar is in manufactured bread these days. I figured you wouldn't appreciate the coffee without the usual requisite pound of sugar in it.'

'You're probably right,' Jack sighed. 'Can I at least smell yours?'

'You could learn to drink it without sugar,' he suggested.

'Baby steps, Ianto. Besides, this could sort itself out before we have to resort to that.'

Jack's aversion to sugary foods persisted throughout the week. Ianto had to spend extra time considering their meal options. Fish and chips still seemed safe, pizza far less so, and Jack forced it down, the sugar in the dough and sauce causing his stomach to churn uncomfortably. Chinese was totally off the cards, as was pretty much everything else made from refined ingredients.

'Well here's something I never thought I'd see again,' Ianto observed, watching Jack sitting at his desk munching on a whole carrot.

'I had to raid your food supplies for Myfanwy. Did you realise that we have practically no food in the hub that doesn't contain sugar?'

'We live in a society that has been conditioned towards sweetness. On the other hand, this does have its advantages. When was the last time I could get you to willingly eat raw vegetables?'

'The stallion incident,' Jack reminded him.

'Ah, yes,' he said, remembering the week that Jack spent as a horse.

'At least I had something to show for it last time,' Jack said, not pausing from his chomping.

'Quite.' Ianto cleared his throat, keen to change the subject. He knew precisely what Jack was referring to.

Ianto to tried his best to sympathise with Jack's plight. Overnight he'd gone from sugar hungry human garbage disposal to health conscious obsessive compulsive. Well, not quite obsessive compulsive, that implied a notion of wanting to be that way inclined. If Jack could go back to sugar tomorrow, he probably would.

Instead, he sat with Jack at meal times and ate the same meals as him, comprised of wholegrains, vegetables and meats. No sauces, no sweets, no processed foodstuffs of any sort. Admittedly, even if Jack wasn't feeling any better for it, Ianto certainly was. The reduction in processed foods in his diet had done wonders. He also felt more energetic and slept better. It took a lot longer to prepare, and with Torchwood's schedule, that wasn't an easy feat, but if he could keep it going they might all reap the benefits.

Late one afternoon, when the hub was quiet, and Gwen, Owen and Tosh were out following up a weevil sighting in Splott, Ianto was busted by Jack tucking into a left over pain au choc.

'I thought you were on a diet?' Jack joked.

'It's not a diet, it's moral support. And all things in moderation,' he added.

'It's okay, I don't mind, really. Once upon a time I'd have fought you for that,' he said, eyeing off the pastry. 'I can still remember how good they used to taste, but now my brain says they're yuck.'

'I'm sorry,' Ianto said, putting it down on the desk and feeling ten types of guilty.

'Don't be. I don't want you to give up things that make you happy just because I don't enjoy them anymore.'

'You make me happy,' he blurted out before he'd realised what he'd said.

Jack just smiled. 'You're very sweet, Ianto.'

'That kind of sweet is okay?'

'More than okay,' Jack confirmed, leaning in for a kiss.

After a brief mid-afternoon interlude in Jack's bunker, the pair of them were debating how long until the others might return and whether they had time for another round. Jack spied something from the corner of his eye that distracted him from the debate. He reached over Ianto and grabbed for the box that sat on the small set of drawers.

'I suppose you should have these now,' Jack said, passing the box of chocolates to Ianto, 'seeing as how I can't eat them anymore.'

The box felt light in Ianto's hand. 'Are these the chocolates that fell through the rift from Castrana Major?'

'Yup.'

Ianto opened the box and found it almost empty.

'How many did you eat?' he asked incredulously.

'It wasn't that many,' Jack replied, taking the box back to count the empty spaces. 'Only seven.'

'Seven?'

'It doesn't sound that bad, and we got the box a week ago.'

'But you ate them all in one night! There were only ten in the box.'

'Well, when you say it like that, of course it sounds bad,' Jack conceded.

Ianto was about to go on one of his tirades when something Jack had just said clicked in his mind.

'We only got them a week ago,' he muttered, almost to himself. 'What night did you eat them?'

'Tuesday, I think.'

'The night before your sudden aversion to sugar?'

Jack paused. 'I have to admit, that is a little bit of a coincidence.'

'We should get these to Owen to analyse.'

'They're full of nanogenes,' he confirmed, rising up from his microscope. 'Nanogenes programmed to rewrite neural activity. Thirty second century technology. The equivalent of diet pills to suppress hunger, or in this case, desire for sugar.'

'So how did they end up in a box of chocolates?' asked Gwen, folding her arms over and looking confused.

'Probably someone's idea of a practical joke. Give them a box of chocolates and they end up unable to eat chocolates ever again.'

'Sorry,' Ianto interrupted, 'but when you say never again?'

'Oh, don't worry, we can reprogram the nanogenes to undo the neural rewiring. What do you think Tosh?'

'Definitely,' she confirmed, nodding emphatically.

'Put them in some tofu,' Jack suggested. 'If there's one thing I won't miss eating, it's tofu.'

'What's wrong with tofu?'

Jack raised his eyebrows at Ianto. 'You really have to ask?'

A few hours later, Tosh and Owen announced that they'd managed to reprogram the nanogenes, having first tested them on several lab mice, who were now happily munching away on peanut butter covered chocolate in their cages.

Owen injected the nanogenes into Jack and suggested waiting an hour or two for the neurons to correct themselves. 'You've got a lot more neurons to rewire than the average lab rat,' Owen commented.

'Smarter than the average bear?' Jack enquired.

'Something like that.'

It was late when Ianto hesitantly knocked on Jack's office door, carrying two mugs and a plate of biscuits.

'How are you feeling?'

'Totally normal. No psychopathic tendencies whatsoever.'

'That wasn't my primary concern, but now that you've mentioned it, I'm quite relieved.'

'Is that coffee?' Jack asked expectantly.

'Brewed to perfection as always, then suitably ruined by the quantity of sugar.'

'Big moment,' Jack announced. He carefully took a small sip, followed by a slightly larger one.

'Well?' Ianto couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this nervous.

'That is seriously better than sex,' he declared, taking several more large gulps and chasing it down with two chocolate hobnobs.

'I think I'm going to need to reevaluate my role in this relationship,' Ianto quipped.