Torchwood: Fanfic: A polished act

[m_findlow]

Title: A polished act
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack, Ianto
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 675 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for m_findlow's prompt "Torchwood, Ianto and/or any, watching him work/clean/organise was like poetry in motion" at fic_promptly
Summary: Cleaning has suddenly become a whole lot more enjoyable

Jack leaned back in his chair, putting his feet up on the desk and stared idly out the window at the view.

Very few people could say that they actually enjoyed cleaning, and with the amount of cleaning required around the hub, that task became even less appealing. Jack however had a new found respect for the cleanliness of the hub, though his own contribution towards that end was minimal at best.

No, he didn't enjoy the act of cleaning, he enjoyed the act of Ianto cleaning. Who would have ever thought that watching someone go about the most mindlessly boring duties would be enjoyable? Yet, watching Ianto move around the hub, taking dishes from desk to dishwasher, was its own kind of elegant beauty. Watching those hands run a cloth over the boardroom table was poetry in motion, and don't even get Jack started on the luscious thoughts that roll through his mind when he watches Ianto polishing the railings on the spiral staircase. It's certainly not the shining metal rods that that he's picturing Ianto's careful hands rubbing up and down along their length.

Ianto says that for him cleaning is very zen; a little place he can take himself where his mind can mull over things, whilst still being efficient in getting something productive done. Jack often wonders what it is exactly that Ianto is thinking about as he draws the mop across the floor or shakes out a fresh bin liner. He hopes it's about him, and he hopes it might be dirty. It would be deliciously ironic to have dirty thoughts whilst cleaning, he decides.

He would be grossly disappointed to discover that most of the time as Ianto is neatly lining up objects and storing away items in their correct positions, that he's actually mulling over intriguing questions such as where do weevils clothes come from, and why have no other dinosaurs ever slipped through the rift, and why is that that a meat feast pizza contains nothing recognisable as actual meat.

For Jack, the zen part is in watching Ianto move around the hub, unhurried, gliding between tasks like an ice skater, or a ballet dancer perhaps. Jack could sit there and watch him all day long, the slow purposeful movements almost hypnotic and soothing. Ianto finds the act of cleaning and organising calming, just as Jack finds the act of chasing after something dangerous calming. It's hard to imagine that the world could end any minute whilst they're moving about the hub, waiting for the next rift alert, and even more impossible to imagine how Ianto ever finds spare time in his already busy day to attend to such menial tasks. Even when Jack is certain that the hub is perfectly spotless and couldn't possibly require more cleaning, Ianto devises new ways to add to his own to do list. When was the last time someone scaled the water tower and used the pressure cleaner to scour away the patches of moss gathering in the cracks between panels?

There's never an inch of paperwork on his desk that isn't strictly required at that very point in time, the rest neatly filed away, and never so much as a stray pen or post it note. Jack couldn't say the same about his own desk, though Ianto does try to remove as much unnecessary detritus as possible, since his desk is already littered with unusual artifacts that change from time to time, but serve no particular function. He's not a hoarder, but he can't stand the spartan emptiness of a desk with nothing on it either, unless of course it's been emptied for the sole purpose of giving them more room on top for other more enjoyable activities.

His thoughts were interrupted as he felt someone swat at his ankle, opening his eyes and finding Ianto standing there, hovering over him with a feather duster in hand.

'Jack, if you don't get up and do something, I'm going to treat you like a piece of furniture and dust you.'

Comments

[jo02]

Yes, that is still one of the great unanswered questions in Torchwood: where do the weevil clothes come from?

[bk_forever]

I rather suspect that Jack would relish being dusted by Ianto!

Weevil clothes are a mystery that will probably never be solved.