m_findlow

Title: Shiny and new
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters/Pairings: Ianto, Jack
Word Count: 500 words
Rating: PG
Notes: Written for Challenge 127 - Bald at anythingdrabble
Summary: Jack has to live with the consequences of malfunctioning alien tech - and so does Ianto.

Jack held the small compact mirror up to his face and studied himself in the tiny reflection, taking it in from as many angles as he could. 'So, tell me. On a scale of one to ten, ten being the point at which you divorce me, how bad does it look? I mean, I'm okay with it, I think, but I'd just like to make sure we're on the same page.'

'I don't think there's a numerical scale equivalent capable of describing how I feel right now,' Ianto said, trying hard not to look at the very shiny, bald palate Jack was sporting. He didn't even look like Jack anymore. Sure, he was still dressed the same and those sparkling blue eyes still made him feel like there was no one else in the room when he looked at Ianto, but the lack of hair was beyond disconcerting. Jack's head was so... round.

'Just think how much we'll save on shampoo and hair product,' Jack said, trying to make light of the situation.

'You did say this was a temporary thing, didn't you?' He was going to ban Jack from ever touching anything alien ever again.

'Oh, sure. It'll start growing back in a week or two.' He rubbed a hand over his scalp. 'It's literally all gone, no stubble, nothing. Feel it, Ianto. It's so smooth.'

'Maybe later,' he replied, hoping he never would. He was immensely supportive of Jack and would love him no matter what but he was still entitled to his uninitiated, twenty-first century hang-ups about being weirded out by the effects of alien technology, even if in the future they might be commonplace.

'I wonder if I could get it to work on my face,' Jack mused. 'No more shaving. Or my legs. Just think about those Saturday night drag dates and not having to wax. I could really get some mileage out of those miniskirts then.'

Ianto cleared his throat loudly. 'It's going in the secure archive where it can't cause any more trouble.' He sighed, looking at Jack again and wanted to place a kiss of frustration on that impossibly bald forehead. 'Anwen's christening is next week. You'll probably terrify her looking like that.' Not to mention freaking out the pastor who knew them all, but not exactly what they did.

'I can wear a hat.'

'You can't wear a hat in church.'

'Not even my RAF cap?'

'Even servicemen have to take their caps off inside.' Ianto pulled out his phone. 'Let me make a few calls. I'm sure there's a hairdresser in town who can refer us someone who does high quality wigs. If we send them a photo they can probably do a custom design.'

'A wig?' Jack sounded horrified at the prospect. 'But they're all itchy and made from the hair of some complete stranger. I can't think of anything worse.'

'Well, perhaps you should have thought about all those things before you went and tinkered with alien technology.'