Fffc Bingo Card - Special delivery

[m_findlow]

Title: Special delivery 
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Rhys,, Ianto, Jack
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 1,000 words
Content notes: none 
Author notes: Written for Bingo Card Prompt 20 - Box at fffc
Summary: Rhys is enjoying being the one in charge for once. 

Rhys leaned his elbow out of the driver’s side window, grinning with maniacal glee at the sight of his newest employees. Now this was something he could definitely get used to. 

‘Put your back into it, lads!’ he yelled out as he watched two of them struggling to shift the large box off the wheeled trolley and onto the freight lift that was attached to the back of the truck. They tried twisting it this way and that to get the large object to move an agonising few inches which each motion. Eventually they somehow moved it enough and one of them pressed the lift button, watching the item rise the four feet needed to line it up with the floor of the truck bed. Once it was up there, it took them another quarter of an hour to shift it into position inside the tuck, starting with the far back corner. 

Rhys propped his knee up against the steering wheel and leaned over, picking up the brown paper bag Gwen had given him before he left for work this morning. It was already showing grease spots on the underside where the buttery pastry was leaching through. He unfurled the crimped opening and tugged the danish half out, taking a large bite. Tangy apricot and gooey custard melded with perfect flaky pastry. As he chewed it slowly, trying to make it last, he switched the radio on to block out the sound of the grunting, swearing and general shuffling going on in the back of the truck. 

This was the kind of job he could get used to, Rhys decided. He'd driven lorries all over the country, shipping everything from photocopiers to brushed spuds. It was the kind of job you had to enjoy, being on the road all the time. There were times when it drove him batty, being stuck in a three mile long queue on the A480 because some idiot had decided seven thirty a was the perfect time to break down on the motorway or run out of petrol. It was almost like they'd planned it. 

It was the sitting doing nothing that would drive Rhys spare. There was only so much Red Dragon FM disc jockey wittering he could stomach before having to switch over to Barry Beat for some respite. But he did love being on the road and getting to see the country. One thing he couldn't deny was that his work was varied. Of course, the downside was that no matter where you went, the truck stops were all the same. Happy Eaters adjacent to every major fuel stop on every motorway from Lands End to Gretna Green. It had done nothing for his waistline, he admitted that much. If it weren't for the five on five rugby with the lads on a Saturday, he'd probably be twice his size. He'd be slimmer still if five a side didn't include three pints and three hours of football viewing at the pub afterwards. 

At least there'd been no sitting stuck in that same dreary office day after day waiting for something exciting to happen. Well, at least there hadn't been until he'd applied for the manager's role for the Cardiff branch of Hardwoods. He hadn't really expected to get the job. He assumed someone from another branch would get it, just a transfer more than a promotion, but he'd clearly impressed someone. That or they'd just worked on the theory that Cardiff was a tinpot location so any monkey could run it. 

It hadn't taken Rhys long to get his feet under the table and everything working the way he wanted it to. His drivers respected him because he'd been one of them, and still picked up the odd shift here and there when there was no one else free to do it. 

And it was lucky he was the manager. With all the things he'd been asked to help Gwen with over the years, there was no way he could have kept that hidden from someone else. He was forever driving out there to pick up a van at all hours, dodging up the paperwork and the odometer records to conceal the fact that he'd once again been transporting alien stuff across the city. 

Today however, there was nothing alien about this shipment, and it was nice to be just Rhys Williams, Hardwoods driver, and not Rhys Williams, attempted Torchwood agent and saver of the planet. 

He leaned out the window again as two blue overall covered men shambled past, headed back towards the Warehouse. ‘Hurry it up, would you? I've seen women down the rugby club with more muscle than you two. Still eighteen more fridges to go. Got to get this lot back to the depot before four o'clock.’ 

Jack scowled at being given orders, whilst Ianto paused pushing the trolley. ‘I used to think Gwen was the pushy one,’ Jack retorted. 

‘Just remember who had to bring them all here in the first place!’ Rhys reminded him. ‘You try hauling all these boxes out here hoping some idiot will take notice, pointing them in the direction of the impending alien invasion.’ 

‘I was there, if you recall,’ Ianto moaned. ‘And you were the idiot that was meant to find them.’ 

‘Yeah, and it didn't take nearly as long knicking them off the back of the trucks as it's taking you two clowns now to put them all back on.’ 

Ianto forced the trolley forward again, Jack trailing unhappily behind him. ‘Last time I had to hurry back to prevent the Rain of Fire,’ Ianto grumbled. ‘Didn't get any thanks for it then, either. Or any paid overtime and meal allowance.’ 

‘Yeah, and these outfits are doing nothing for my image,’ Jack added. ‘They're baggy in all the wrong places.’ 

Rhys eased back in the driver's seat, turning the radio up louder as he supervised their work. Thank God they worked for Torchwood because they made absolutely rubbish Hardwoods employees.