m_findlow

Title: Nobody's perfect
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Owen, Jack, Ianto
Author: m_findlow
Rating: M
Length: 817 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for fffc May Special Daily Challenge - May 28th - "I am easily satisfied with the very best." (Winston Churchill)
Summary: Everyone needs a little imperfection in their lives.

'Here are your frigging reports,' Owen said, bursting into Jack's office without invitation and dumping the pile unhappily on his desk.

'Good,' Jack replied. 'They're only three days late this time instead of a week. Keep this up and you might eventually get them in on time.'

'I would have, if some bloody nazi hadn't taken his red pen to them, making me redo them all. Let him get the coffee and the pizza; even fuck him for all I care, but don't let him anywhere near my reports from now on, do you hear?' He stormed out before Jack could even think of something good say, nearly bungling into the man himself on his way back towards the medical bay.

'Another happy customer,' Jack announced as Ianto entered, a stack of files under one arm, and a tray of coffee in the other. Jack took the time to admire the figure that moved with the grace of a dancer. The files were an unfortunate thing, though he supposed at least he was equally balanced between pleasure and pain.

'Are those for me?' Jack asked, eyeing off the plate of biscuits that accompanied his faithful blue and white striped mug.

'Ah, I see you've got Owen's reports there,' he said, beaming with pride. 'Here's a few more whilst you're at it, plus all of next month's budget figures,' he said, setting down a pile that were nearly sorted into their various coloured manila folders. He made sure that Jack got a good look at them before he distracted their leader with his current sugar and caffeine hit.

'Wait,' Jack said, double checking the report on top of the pile, picking it up and scrutinizing the cover. 'This one isn't one of yours.'

'I know. It's one of yours. One of many I've had to rework.' He set the coffee and biscuits down before letting his hands settle on his hips. 'Honestly, sometimes I don't know why you bother at all. I might as well do them from start to finish myself. Not that I don't have enough to do, mind.'

'But these are my official reports,' Jack said, pawing through the rest of the pile. 'The ones that get read by other departments.'

'Exactly. Why do you think I've spent so much time correcting them? I can't have people thinking that Torchwood is run by a five-year old.'

'I take offense at that insinuation,' Jack said, straightening himself in the chair. Ianto usually at least referred to him as being somewhere between eight and twelve. Five was just insulting.

'Okay, so they're not written in crayon,' Ianto admitted, 'but they're not that far off.'

'I can't have you putting words in my mouth. These are still my reports.'

'I'm not putting words in your mouth.' In his considered opinion, Jack had quite enough of them in there already. 'I'm merely toning them down and adding in the requisite details which you so often overlook. I never have this problem with Gwen and Tosh.'

Jack folded his arms. 'Is there anyone's reports you're not reading?'

'You put me in charge of administration. It's all part of the job to coordinate our files, in case you'd forgotten.'

Jack let out a huff. 'Are you ever satisfied with anything?'

'I'm easily satisfied with the very best,' he quipped, giving Jack one of his trademark grins.

'Who was it said that, again?' he asked, knowing that Ianto was quoting something he'd heard before.

'Churchill.'

'That's right,' Jack said, leaning back. 'Comes across as a bit of a stick in the mud, doesn't he? Probably a bit of a killjoy. The kind of guy who'd ruin even a game of scrabble.'

Ianto raised an eyebrow. 'What, no story about how the two of you stole away in the middle of the night to make love in some secret World War Two bunker?'

Jack pulled a face. 'Have you ever seen a picture of the man? Even I have my standards.'

'Low as they might be,' Ianto teased.

'You know it doesn't hurt to settle for a little imperfection, sometimes. I've heard it's quite humbling.' He knew full well Ianto didn't consider himself anywhere near perfect, but it didn't stop him from fussing for half an hour in the bathroom every morning until his tie and collar were just right.

'Offering yourself up as an example, are you?' Ianto asked, not that he was complaining.

'I happen to be a model of perfection, I mean, just look at me!

Ianto snorted but took the opportunity to ogle all the same. There was definitely nothing physically imperfect about him, and Jack always left him feeling very satisfied indeed. It was just a shame he was so terrible at paperwork.

'Whatever you say, sir. Just remember next time to at least run the spellchecker on them before you consider sending them off to Her Majesty.'