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Title: Riding it out
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack, Ianto, Gwen, OC
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 1,000 words
Content notes: None
Author notes: Written for Challenge 207 - Jealousy at
fandomweekly
Summary: : 1,000 words
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack, Ianto, Gwen, OC
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 1,000 words
Content notes: None
Author notes: Written for Challenge 207 - Jealousy at
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Summary: : 1,000 words
Summary: The choppy conditions aren’t the only thing making Ianto’s stomach churn.
Ianto felt a slight damp patch forming between his forehead and the vinyl where it was pressed against it. God how he hated being out in open water, bobbing like a cork. Lying down was only marginally better than standing up, but it also meant that throwing up was less of an effort. It didn't have to travel upwards to escape for a start. Hopefully it'd all be over in a few hours and they'd be back on terra firma.
Loud boots could be heard coming down the steps into the cabin below deck, adding to his nausea induced headache. ‘Found you,’ Jack said.
Genius, Ianto replied in his head. Not a lot of places he could go, and the wheelhouse was already crowded with two captains. Throwing himself overboard might have been a relief.
‘Bad news, I'm afraid,’ Jack reported. ‘Some bad weather is about to set in. Rick is dropping anchor. Too risky to try and steam home to port in it. Just gotta ride it out.’
Ianto kept his eyes shut. Hurrah. As if things couldn't get any worse. More rocking and rolling on this godforsaken tub.
‘Rick said you were feeling a bit green around the gills.’ Jack let out a brief chuckle. ‘He wasn't kidding. You're almost the same colour as the linoleum.’
Gee thanks, Ianto thought.
‘He said he suggested you go below deck and lie down for a bit.’
Rick said this, Rick said that. Ianto couldn't tell if he was nauseous because of the ocean moving up and down underneath him or if it was just having to put up with the captain of their vessel. Mid thirties and good looking, he'd captured Jack's eye all day long. Where was the stereotypical old sea dog with his white beard and filthy dungarees? Rick’s been sailing these waters for over twenty years. Rick knows this place like the back of his hand. Rick will know if there's anything unusual out here that could be alien. Rick, Rick, Rick.
Rick the dick.
Rick who hadn't stopped flirting with Jack since they stepped aboard, and Jack who’d enjoyed every single second of it and flirted back. That was enough to make anyone's stomach churn.
‘Ah, here you are!’ Rick called out, feet clomping loudly down the steps. ‘I was worried maybe you’d succumbed to motion sickness as well. Not that I imagined you would. Guy like you might as well have been born on the waves, am I right?’
God, where was that bucket when you needed it?
Another set of lighter footfalls could be heard. ‘Looks like that storm isn't far off,’ Gwen announced before spotting Ianto lying on the vinyl lounge seat. ‘How're you doing, pet?’ She didn't wait for an answer. ‘Why is he here and not somewhere more comfortable?’
Rick must have shrugged his shoulders. ‘I offered him my bunk. What more do you want?’
Gwen swept past them all to the back of the cabin, peering into the tiny room behind the narrow door. ‘Well, no bloody wonder. The place is a pigsty.’
‘It's not like I have a lot of company on board,’ Rick replied. ‘Not the kind that usually minds, anyway,’ he added, probably winking suggestively at her. ‘Things tend to get rough at sea.’ Christ, he was even worse with the dirty double entendres than Jack.
‘Well, what are you waiting for? An engraved invitation to tidy it up?’
‘I'm the captain of this ship, remember?’
‘Yeah, and Jack calls himself a captain too when it suits him. Doesn't mean we always do what he says either.’ Ianto cracked an eye open long enough to see Gwen point angrily at the doorway. ‘Now. Try not to make it look like something my first boyfriend kept his porno mag collection in.’
There was shuffling and some indistinguishable mutterings at being told what to do until Gwen was in front of Ianto, putting a hand on his shoulder. ‘Help me get him up,’ she said to Jack.
‘I'm still conscious, you know,’ Ianto replied, forcing himself to sit up with as much dignity as he could muster. They moved toward the cabin door but a wave hit the side of the boat and Ianto ended up crunched between them as they tried to navigate him to the bedroom. ‘Sorry,’ Gwen apologised for both of them.
‘Better?’ came the petulant question from their captain as multiple arms guided Ianto down onto the bed.
‘There wasn't much work with, but thank you,’ Gwen said.
‘Well, now that Ianto's all nice and settled in, how about you join me up in the wheelhouse to watch the big show? Reckon we'll get thirty foot waves if we're lucky. Nothing like watching mother nature try to kill you.’
Ianto gave an involuntary groan, more at the thought of Jack clinging to Rick in an enclosed space as they were buffeted together, lips accidentally on purpose finding one another. Hours of roiling ocean underneath him didn't even make front of mind.
There was a gentle hand on his forehead stroking back through his hair. ‘Think I'll stay down below with Ianto. If things are going to get rough we might need someone here ready with the bucket.’
Ah chivalry! Holding a bucket whilst your lover empties their stomach into it.
Ianto didn't even have to open his eyes to picture the look of jealousy flashing across Rick's face. He could use his imagination suitably well and the tiny awkward silent pause was enough to know it for certain.
‘Gwen? What about you?’ Rick asked, trying to mask any disappointment or embarrassment. ‘Once in a year storm? What do you say?’
‘I’m sure a fearless seaman like you doesn't need me getting in the way. No doubt it takes a lot to keep a ship afloat in those conditions.’
‘If you need us, just sing out,’ Jack added.
Ianto nestled into the pillow, almost able to ignore the salty, sweaty scent of it. Best teammates ever.
Ianto felt a slight damp patch forming between his forehead and the vinyl where it was pressed against it. God how he hated being out in open water, bobbing like a cork. Lying down was only marginally better than standing up, but it also meant that throwing up was less of an effort. It didn't have to travel upwards to escape for a start. Hopefully it'd all be over in a few hours and they'd be back on terra firma.
Loud boots could be heard coming down the steps into the cabin below deck, adding to his nausea induced headache. ‘Found you,’ Jack said.
Genius, Ianto replied in his head. Not a lot of places he could go, and the wheelhouse was already crowded with two captains. Throwing himself overboard might have been a relief.
‘Bad news, I'm afraid,’ Jack reported. ‘Some bad weather is about to set in. Rick is dropping anchor. Too risky to try and steam home to port in it. Just gotta ride it out.’
Ianto kept his eyes shut. Hurrah. As if things couldn't get any worse. More rocking and rolling on this godforsaken tub.
‘Rick said you were feeling a bit green around the gills.’ Jack let out a brief chuckle. ‘He wasn't kidding. You're almost the same colour as the linoleum.’
Gee thanks, Ianto thought.
‘He said he suggested you go below deck and lie down for a bit.’
Rick said this, Rick said that. Ianto couldn't tell if he was nauseous because of the ocean moving up and down underneath him or if it was just having to put up with the captain of their vessel. Mid thirties and good looking, he'd captured Jack's eye all day long. Where was the stereotypical old sea dog with his white beard and filthy dungarees? Rick’s been sailing these waters for over twenty years. Rick knows this place like the back of his hand. Rick will know if there's anything unusual out here that could be alien. Rick, Rick, Rick.
Rick the dick.
Rick who hadn't stopped flirting with Jack since they stepped aboard, and Jack who’d enjoyed every single second of it and flirted back. That was enough to make anyone's stomach churn.
‘Ah, here you are!’ Rick called out, feet clomping loudly down the steps. ‘I was worried maybe you’d succumbed to motion sickness as well. Not that I imagined you would. Guy like you might as well have been born on the waves, am I right?’
God, where was that bucket when you needed it?
Another set of lighter footfalls could be heard. ‘Looks like that storm isn't far off,’ Gwen announced before spotting Ianto lying on the vinyl lounge seat. ‘How're you doing, pet?’ She didn't wait for an answer. ‘Why is he here and not somewhere more comfortable?’
Rick must have shrugged his shoulders. ‘I offered him my bunk. What more do you want?’
Gwen swept past them all to the back of the cabin, peering into the tiny room behind the narrow door. ‘Well, no bloody wonder. The place is a pigsty.’
‘It's not like I have a lot of company on board,’ Rick replied. ‘Not the kind that usually minds, anyway,’ he added, probably winking suggestively at her. ‘Things tend to get rough at sea.’ Christ, he was even worse with the dirty double entendres than Jack.
‘Well, what are you waiting for? An engraved invitation to tidy it up?’
‘I'm the captain of this ship, remember?’
‘Yeah, and Jack calls himself a captain too when it suits him. Doesn't mean we always do what he says either.’ Ianto cracked an eye open long enough to see Gwen point angrily at the doorway. ‘Now. Try not to make it look like something my first boyfriend kept his porno mag collection in.’
There was shuffling and some indistinguishable mutterings at being told what to do until Gwen was in front of Ianto, putting a hand on his shoulder. ‘Help me get him up,’ she said to Jack.
‘I'm still conscious, you know,’ Ianto replied, forcing himself to sit up with as much dignity as he could muster. They moved toward the cabin door but a wave hit the side of the boat and Ianto ended up crunched between them as they tried to navigate him to the bedroom. ‘Sorry,’ Gwen apologised for both of them.
‘Better?’ came the petulant question from their captain as multiple arms guided Ianto down onto the bed.
‘There wasn't much work with, but thank you,’ Gwen said.
‘Well, now that Ianto's all nice and settled in, how about you join me up in the wheelhouse to watch the big show? Reckon we'll get thirty foot waves if we're lucky. Nothing like watching mother nature try to kill you.’
Ianto gave an involuntary groan, more at the thought of Jack clinging to Rick in an enclosed space as they were buffeted together, lips accidentally on purpose finding one another. Hours of roiling ocean underneath him didn't even make front of mind.
There was a gentle hand on his forehead stroking back through his hair. ‘Think I'll stay down below with Ianto. If things are going to get rough we might need someone here ready with the bucket.’
Ah chivalry! Holding a bucket whilst your lover empties their stomach into it.
Ianto didn't even have to open his eyes to picture the look of jealousy flashing across Rick's face. He could use his imagination suitably well and the tiny awkward silent pause was enough to know it for certain.
‘Gwen? What about you?’ Rick asked, trying to mask any disappointment or embarrassment. ‘Once in a year storm? What do you say?’
‘I’m sure a fearless seaman like you doesn't need me getting in the way. No doubt it takes a lot to keep a ship afloat in those conditions.’
‘If you need us, just sing out,’ Jack added.
Ianto nestled into the pillow, almost able to ignore the salty, sweaty scent of it. Best teammates ever.