Torchwood: Fanfic: A storm is brewing

[m_findlow]

Title: A storm is brewing
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack, Ianto, Owen, Gwen, Tosh
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 447 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for badly_knitted's prompt "Torchwood, Jack/Ianto, "Ianto, the new hurricane's named after me!" "Don't let it go to your head; they were up to J, they might just as easily have called it John."" at fic_promptly
Summary: Jack has take a suddenly interest in the weather forecast.

Jack stared at the TV monitor overhead, grabbing the remote and upping the volume from mute to something audible.

'Ianto, the new hurricane's named after me!' Jack announced.

Ianto barely looked up from the papers in his hand. 'And if it's anything like you, it'll tear through the place in ten seconds flat, leaving nothing but a trail of destruction in its wake that'll take weeks to sort out.'

Jack ignored the backhanded insult. 'I'll bet they've never had a hurricane Ianto.'

'Probably not,' he idly said. 'I'm more of a persistent drizzle.'

'Still, it's exciting isn't it? "Hurricane Jack wreaks havoc over west midlands." "Hurricane Jack floods hundred year old butchers shop." "Hurricane Jack closes schools and disrupts shipping ports."'

'Don't let it go to your head; they were up to J, they might just as easily have called it John.'

'Yeah, but they didn't.'

'But they could have,' he countered. 'They might have called it James.'

'Or Joshua,' Tosh added.

'Jacob,' Owen offered.

'Or Josephine,' Gwen said.

'Nope, sorry Gwen,' Ianto said, 'it would have to be a boy's name. They alternate between girls and boys with each letter.'

'Okay, well Joseph then.'

'Jeremy,' Owen offered.

'Jason,' Tosh replied.

'Justin.'

'Julian.'

'Johann,' Ianto finished.

'Johann?' Jack said. 'Seriously? Who the hell would call it Johann?'

'There's lots of famous Johann's.'

'Such as? Go on, name one.'

'Well, there's Johann Sebastian Bach, Johann Strauss, Johann Pachelbel, Johann van Beethoven...'

Jack groaned. 'Any that weren't boring composers from like a million years ago?'

Ianto shrugged. 'They're still famous, though.'

'Yeah, but I bet there's loads of famous Jack's as well.'

They all sat in silence for a minute, tying to think of one but coming up empty.

'Oh, wait,' Owen said, snapping his fingers. 'I've got one. Jack the Ripper.' The awkward pause hung in the air.

'Yeah,' Gwen said. 'It think you're right Ianto. They should've called it John.'

'Hey,' Jack said, sounding sulky. 'I met Jack the Ripper. He was a seriously misunderstood guy!'

They exchanged uncomfortable looks. 'Yep,' Ianto said, standing up as they all made their way quickly out of the room.

'Come on, guys,' Jack yelled after them. 'It was a joke! As if I'd hang out with crazy, sex obsessed serial killers! Oh,' he said, remembering John Hart. Nevermind.

He turned back to the television screen, watching the weather map and the swirling symbol with his name on it, out in the middle of the Irish Sea, as the weatherman commented on projections of where it might make landfall.

'Batten down the hatches, folks,' Jack said, grinning to himself. 'Because when I come calling, there's nowhere you can hide.'