Challenge 864 - Lost and found
May. 11th, 2025 04:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Title: Lost and found
Character: Ianto
Author: m_findlow
Rating: M (language)
Length: 200 words
Length: 200 words
Content notes: None
Author notes: Written for Challenge 864 - Measure at
torchwood100
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Summary: Ianto is big mad over a misplaced item. A double drabble.
‘Fuck,’ Ianto muttered, clutching his diary under his arm as tightly as he could. Fuck, fuck, fuck, his internal monologue carried on in silence after him. He never left his diary lying about. Never. Because he knew what a sticky beak Jack was and how badly he'd been wanting to get his hands on it for ages now. He should have never admitted to keeping a diary.
He stomped down the hallways, making for the archives, feeling his face flushed red with embarrassment, where he might hide until the mortification and anger at his own stupidity dissipated. Why? Why had he ever written about that sodding measuring tape? Why, more importantly, he wondered again, and not for the first time, had he even indulged Jack in measuring them in the first place? What kind of sane person did that? He hadn't even been drinking, so he couldn't blame intoxication. Somewhere during those three days of memories they'd wiped Jack had found his diary.
‘I'm going to burn you,’ he said, threatening the diary as he hurled it onto his desk in frustration, slumping into the chair and scowling at it. ‘Burn you and all the measuring tapes I can find.’
‘Fuck,’ Ianto muttered, clutching his diary under his arm as tightly as he could. Fuck, fuck, fuck, his internal monologue carried on in silence after him. He never left his diary lying about. Never. Because he knew what a sticky beak Jack was and how badly he'd been wanting to get his hands on it for ages now. He should have never admitted to keeping a diary.
He stomped down the hallways, making for the archives, feeling his face flushed red with embarrassment, where he might hide until the mortification and anger at his own stupidity dissipated. Why? Why had he ever written about that sodding measuring tape? Why, more importantly, he wondered again, and not for the first time, had he even indulged Jack in measuring them in the first place? What kind of sane person did that? He hadn't even been drinking, so he couldn't blame intoxication. Somewhere during those three days of memories they'd wiped Jack had found his diary.
‘I'm going to burn you,’ he said, threatening the diary as he hurled it onto his desk in frustration, slumping into the chair and scowling at it. ‘Burn you and all the measuring tapes I can find.’
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Date: 2025-05-11 09:23 am (UTC)