m_findlow

Title: The trouble with being Ianto Jones
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Ianto
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 902 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for cyberiad_queen's prompt "Any, any, Day Eight: Still confused" at fic_promptly
Summary: It's not always easy being Ianto

Dear Diary,

Day Eight. Still confused. Is confused the right word? I suppose so. How else are you supposed to feel when everything seems to be turned upside down? This whole "being trapped in the body of woman" thing is harder than it looks. Heels for a start. I mean, how do girls wear them all day long? I come home and feel like my ankles have been shredded, my toes caught in a vice, and don't even start on the aches in the balls of my feet. I'm all for looking good, and admittedly, they do look good - Jack says I have lovely legs - but there must be some kind of compromise between looking good and being able to get on with your day.

The hair is another thing. There's... well, there's just so much of it. It's not the colour I would have picked, which is to say it's not my natural colour, or is it? And no, I'm not checking down there. Bad enough that everything else that used to be down there, isn't anymore. At least it doesn't require nearly as much brushing to keep it line at and in place as I expected, much to Gwen's annoyance. Who thought I'd ever have to worry about Gwen being jealous of my appearance? It seems to have this natural bounce to it, like no matter what I do, it will always fall into place just so. Bizarre.

The rest I guess I'm kind of getting used to. Not that I'm saying I want to get used to this. There must be a way to reverse it... somehow. I definitely don't want to be a woman forever. It's way too much hard work.

Lingerie felt a bit odd at the start, once I had some, that is, but it kind of feels right now. It's like it's keeping everything in place, which, when you're not really sure where it's supposed to be, is a godsend. The suits aren't bad either, but I never realised just how hard it is to get a nicely tailored suit for women. Apparently they don't have bespoke tailors for ladies. Gwen says I shouldn't fuss. Debenhams will do just fine. It's not the same, though. The material isn't anywhere near as good, though the cut does flatter the figure quite nicely.

Ah, and note to self, I hate nylon stockings. End of. They don't keep out the cold, they need hitching up all the time, and they get holes in them just by thinking about moving. If I never have to wear another pair ever again, I'll be happy. And if Jack makes one more joke about fishnets, well, I shudder to think what I might do.

Stopped by the shops on the way home tonight. Decided I needed something that didn't make me smell like a man. Who knew there were so many perfumes? I mean, sure, I've bought the odd one on occasion, gifts, but really, they all smell pretty much the same if you ask me. I hear what you're thinking. How can I, Ianto Jones, king of coffee, not be able to discern oriental from floral, or tell if something has hints of mint over melon? Well, I just can't, that's all there is to it. Not that I'm planning on staying like this forever, just that sandalwood and spice is apparently not the "in thing" for ladies. Fortunately the lady at the counter was very helpful. You just don't get good customer service like that anymore, which is a shame. Her skills are really wasted in a cheap department store like that. Now I just smell like I've fallen headlong into a flowerbed. Hopefully Jack will like it, though. Just not too much.

Ah, yes, Jack. Quite possibly the biggest problem I have right now, which given my current physique, is really saying something. I know I should be happy that he's not weirded out by this, and luckier still that my kissing technique was enough to prove who I really was, but there's no need for him to be quite so... accepting. Trying to stop Jack from wanting to have sex is like trying to tell a salmon it's not allowed to swim upriver against the current. Unfortunately, nothing about this body has stopped his pheromones working on it one iota, but how do you get intimate with someone when your body is completely foreign to you? There's whole bits missing and other bits that simply shouldn't be there.

Jack's already had the odd grope here and there. He seems to be quite enjoying my new, er, assets. At least one of us is. Although, the arse is quite nice. Perky is probably the word for it. I wonder how much exercise it takes to keep it like that? Exercising with Jack is usually enough to keep my old body in check. I half expect he'll be knocking on the door any minute now, wanting some alone time. What do I do if he wants to have sex? Can we have sex? Silly question, yes, I suppose there's nothing physically problematic with that. Oh God, what if he gets me pregnant? Can that happen? Do they have a morning after pill? Should probably check that out right now. Or have thought of it earlier.

Iesu mawr. Just when I thought the most complicated part of my life was being a man in relationship with another man.