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Fandomweekly Challenge 226 - Under wraps
Title: Under wraps
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack, Ianto, Owen
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 1,000 words
Content notes: None
Author notes: Written for Challenge 226 - Secret at![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomweekly
Characters: Jack, Ianto, Owen
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 1,000 words
Content notes: None
Author notes: Written for Challenge 226 - Secret at
fandomweeklySummary: Ianto panics at being caught by Owen, doing something with Jack he shouldn’t be.
Jack was still holding Ianto’s hand as they descended in the lift down into the main bowels of the hub. That was a new development and one that Ianto didn’t mind since it was just the two of them. He hadn’t fancied Jack to be a hand-holder, or in fact, any kind of romantic. On the whole he wasn’t – or at least hadn’t been so far – but Jack was always surprising him, if not always in ways that he liked. Ianto wasn’t much of a hand-holder himself, but he found himself unable to pull away lest Jack take that as an indication that it made Ianto uncomfortable and stopped doing it. Ianto didn’t want Jack to stop doing anything that resulted in his touching Ianto in any way.
When the lift doors opened, they stepped out. Jack paused to bend down to tie a shoelace that had fallen loose. Ianto wanted to tell him that it wasn’t worth his effort, since the plan would probably be to divest themselves of clothes in about thirty seconds and not put them back on until sometime tomorrow morning.
As he waited for Jack, he caught a glimpse of the hub beyond the tiny reinforced circular window in the cogwheel door and swore. ‘Balls.’
Jack looked up, still down on one knee. ‘What is it?’
Ianto scowled and then felt his face go cold and ashen. ‘Owen.’ What the hell was he doing here at this hour? Everyone had left the hub hours ago, headed home for the night, leaving Ianto as the last person to leave – as always. Everyone assumed that Ianto practically lived at the hub, married to his work, and that going home later than the rest of them, and arriving well before them again each morning, was just how he liked to roll. Ianto presumably didn’t have much of a life outside of Torchwood these days. No one imagined him leaving work on time and hitting the speed dating scene looking for Mrs Right, or going to a martial arts class, or sitting in his flat penning a soon to be best selling novel. Just plain, boring, unassuming Ianto Jones, who enjoyed his job and wasn’t fussed about having anything else to fill his life.
They most definitely would never believe that in the hours between making coffee and feeding weevil inmates that he’d become smitten with their leader and had taken up with him to a point where Ianto might almost describe it as dating. Well, if not dating, certainly friends with exceedingly good benefits.
‘Owen?’ came the question from Jack.
Ianto whipped his head away from the small porthole window, pressing himself back against the door to the right of it, before Owen could catch any movement from the corner of his eye. ‘Yes, bloody Owen!’ he hissed in the lowest whisper he could manage, just in case Owen was also possessed of laser sharp hearing.
Jack shrugged, standing up and dusting off the knee of his trouser. ‘So what?’
Ianto rolled his eyes. He would have thought it was bloody obvious. ‘You want to just walk in there like this?’ Jack frowned at him as if he were speaking another language. Ianto checked himself, just for a moment, and confirmed internally that no, he wasn’t speaking Welsh and Jack could understand him perfectly. ‘Owen isn’t supposed to know about us.’ None of them were, and that was just how Ianto liked it; enjoying what he had without judgement or criticism.
‘No one’s going to care if you come out,’ Jack said, making it sound so blasé.
‘Less concerned about my public sexuality than I am about shagging the boss!’ Not to mention his car keys were on Jack’s desk, so he wasn’t going anywhere without them.
‘I could order them to be okay with it,’ Jack said, still downplaying what was becoming for Ianto the climax of a crisis.
‘Jesus, Jack! Could you just take things seriously for once in your life!’ He began pacing the narrow area behind the cogwheel door, no more than two paces before he was forced to turn and repeat the action. ‘Okay, we could just tell Owen that you got a late call from the Mayor and we all know how terrified you are of her.’
‘Hey!’
‘And that you needed a wingman, but I was the only one still here, and,’ he nodded, ‘yes, that could work. No need to tamper the rift monitor records because she called you on your personal mobile.’
‘That’s a lot of effort for something so small.’ Jack caught the murderous look on Ianto’s face and held his hands up in surrender. ‘Okay, whatever you say. We’re not a thing.’ He swiped the security panel with his access card and the door rolled open before Ianto could argue further. They were going in.
Owen barely spared them a glance as they walked in, Ianto keeping a professional distance from Jack. ‘What are you doing back here?’ Jack asked.
Owen groaned. ‘Gwen’s got me trawling eBay in case that nutter Eugen was trying to flog anything else alien before he went and snuffed himself on the motorway. How come she gets to go on a road trip and I'm stuck here doing all her grunt work, eh?’ He paused and looked at them. ‘What’re you two up to?’
Jack tossed his coat over the railing. ‘Found Ianto working late so we went and grabbed a bite at that cute little Malaysian place on Bute Street.’
Owen grunted again. ‘Should’ve called me. Can’t even get a free feed on the boss’s dime, can I?’
Ianto blinked, taken aback that Jack had so openly ignored their plan, and even more surprised that Owen hadn't so much as blinked at the explanation. It was so ridiculously uncomplicated that Ianto wondered why he hadn’t thought of it. Probably because he thought everyone would see them together and immediately assume something romantic. What a stupid idea. Even he didn’t believe it.
Jack was still holding Ianto’s hand as they descended in the lift down into the main bowels of the hub. That was a new development and one that Ianto didn’t mind since it was just the two of them. He hadn’t fancied Jack to be a hand-holder, or in fact, any kind of romantic. On the whole he wasn’t – or at least hadn’t been so far – but Jack was always surprising him, if not always in ways that he liked. Ianto wasn’t much of a hand-holder himself, but he found himself unable to pull away lest Jack take that as an indication that it made Ianto uncomfortable and stopped doing it. Ianto didn’t want Jack to stop doing anything that resulted in his touching Ianto in any way.
When the lift doors opened, they stepped out. Jack paused to bend down to tie a shoelace that had fallen loose. Ianto wanted to tell him that it wasn’t worth his effort, since the plan would probably be to divest themselves of clothes in about thirty seconds and not put them back on until sometime tomorrow morning.
As he waited for Jack, he caught a glimpse of the hub beyond the tiny reinforced circular window in the cogwheel door and swore. ‘Balls.’
Jack looked up, still down on one knee. ‘What is it?’
Ianto scowled and then felt his face go cold and ashen. ‘Owen.’ What the hell was he doing here at this hour? Everyone had left the hub hours ago, headed home for the night, leaving Ianto as the last person to leave – as always. Everyone assumed that Ianto practically lived at the hub, married to his work, and that going home later than the rest of them, and arriving well before them again each morning, was just how he liked to roll. Ianto presumably didn’t have much of a life outside of Torchwood these days. No one imagined him leaving work on time and hitting the speed dating scene looking for Mrs Right, or going to a martial arts class, or sitting in his flat penning a soon to be best selling novel. Just plain, boring, unassuming Ianto Jones, who enjoyed his job and wasn’t fussed about having anything else to fill his life.
They most definitely would never believe that in the hours between making coffee and feeding weevil inmates that he’d become smitten with their leader and had taken up with him to a point where Ianto might almost describe it as dating. Well, if not dating, certainly friends with exceedingly good benefits.
‘Owen?’ came the question from Jack.
Ianto whipped his head away from the small porthole window, pressing himself back against the door to the right of it, before Owen could catch any movement from the corner of his eye. ‘Yes, bloody Owen!’ he hissed in the lowest whisper he could manage, just in case Owen was also possessed of laser sharp hearing.
Jack shrugged, standing up and dusting off the knee of his trouser. ‘So what?’
Ianto rolled his eyes. He would have thought it was bloody obvious. ‘You want to just walk in there like this?’ Jack frowned at him as if he were speaking another language. Ianto checked himself, just for a moment, and confirmed internally that no, he wasn’t speaking Welsh and Jack could understand him perfectly. ‘Owen isn’t supposed to know about us.’ None of them were, and that was just how Ianto liked it; enjoying what he had without judgement or criticism.
‘No one’s going to care if you come out,’ Jack said, making it sound so blasé.
‘Less concerned about my public sexuality than I am about shagging the boss!’ Not to mention his car keys were on Jack’s desk, so he wasn’t going anywhere without them.
‘I could order them to be okay with it,’ Jack said, still downplaying what was becoming for Ianto the climax of a crisis.
‘Jesus, Jack! Could you just take things seriously for once in your life!’ He began pacing the narrow area behind the cogwheel door, no more than two paces before he was forced to turn and repeat the action. ‘Okay, we could just tell Owen that you got a late call from the Mayor and we all know how terrified you are of her.’
‘Hey!’
‘And that you needed a wingman, but I was the only one still here, and,’ he nodded, ‘yes, that could work. No need to tamper the rift monitor records because she called you on your personal mobile.’
‘That’s a lot of effort for something so small.’ Jack caught the murderous look on Ianto’s face and held his hands up in surrender. ‘Okay, whatever you say. We’re not a thing.’ He swiped the security panel with his access card and the door rolled open before Ianto could argue further. They were going in.
Owen barely spared them a glance as they walked in, Ianto keeping a professional distance from Jack. ‘What are you doing back here?’ Jack asked.
Owen groaned. ‘Gwen’s got me trawling eBay in case that nutter Eugen was trying to flog anything else alien before he went and snuffed himself on the motorway. How come she gets to go on a road trip and I'm stuck here doing all her grunt work, eh?’ He paused and looked at them. ‘What’re you two up to?’
Jack tossed his coat over the railing. ‘Found Ianto working late so we went and grabbed a bite at that cute little Malaysian place on Bute Street.’
Owen grunted again. ‘Should’ve called me. Can’t even get a free feed on the boss’s dime, can I?’
Ianto blinked, taken aback that Jack had so openly ignored their plan, and even more surprised that Owen hadn't so much as blinked at the explanation. It was so ridiculously uncomplicated that Ianto wondered why he hadn’t thought of it. Probably because he thought everyone would see them together and immediately assume something romantic. What a stupid idea. Even he didn’t believe it.