Fffc Bingo Card - Sing like no one's listening

[m_findlow]

Title: Sing like no one's listening 
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Torchwood team 
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 1,000 words
Content notes: none 
Author notes: Written for Bingo Card Prompt 95 - Singing at fffc
Summary: Jack takes the team out on a wild night of karaoke. 

A slightly seedy and unattractive young man stepped up onto the tiny makeshift stage by the side of the pub and tapped loudly onto the top of a microphone. 'It's Saturday night and you all know what that means!' he declared loudly. 'KARAOKE NIGHT! Who's going to kick us off? Cheryl is passing around the song books so make your choice and let her know and she'll pop you down on the queue. Don't worry about missing out though, we'll go all night if we have to!' 

Gwen set her glass of scotch down on the cluttered table, full of empty bottles, half eaten bags of crisps and a few beef sliders that had gone slightly cold. 'Oh, you bastard,' she said, grinning at Jack. 'This is why you dragged us here instead of our usual.' 

Jack gave her his best coy smile. 'Who me? I had no idea. Honest. But hey, when in Rome…' He clicked his fingers to make sure Cheryl saw them and dropped off a worn book full of plastic sleeves with crumpled lists of songs shoved in their pockets. 

Owen pulled heavily on his beer. 'You wanted us to get drunk so we'd sing, didn't you?' 

Jack shrugged. 'I paid for that booze. You drank it. Ooh, just look at how many choices there are,' Jack said, flipping through the pages with their tiny print columns ordered by artist and title, so that even the most inebriated patron could eventually find that one song they'd been itching to belt out all week long. 

'Gimme,' Gwen demanded, practically tearing the book from his hands in what he was bound to become a tug of war between them. For now Jack conceded the book, satisfying himself with a large handful of crisps in its place. 

'I don't even know where to begin,' Gwen said. 'Ianto? What do you think?' 

'Sweet Jesus,' Owen groaned. 'Just so long as it isn't the Welsh bloody national anthem.' 

'You know,' Ianto said, waving his bottle of beer around as he began gesticulating, 'you should be careful what you say. This is our country.' 

'Yeah,' Gwen interjected, wrapping an arm around her fellow countryman and pecking him affectionately on the cheek. 

'And,' Ianto carried on, 'that means you should show us some respect.' 

'Respect,' Gwen repeated. 'Go Wales!' 

'Ooh!' Tosh squealed. 'We could sing that! I love Aretha! I bet Jack knows all the words!' 

'I can't tell a lie, Tosh,' Jack beamed. 'Did you know that Aretha and I once went to a bar in New York and got up on the tables to sing? We were an absolute hit, only they thought we were actors. By the end of the night the guy who owned the bar actually paid us for keeping his patrons entertained. It was only a hundred bucks, too. Imagine! The real Aretha Franklin singing for a fifty! Man, those were the days. I should call and see how she's doing.' 

Tosh nearly spat her wine across the table. 'You have a number for Aretha Franklin?' 

'Sure. Doesn't everyone? She's filed right next to Shirley.' He nudged Ianto next to him. 'What do you say, Ianto? Can I interest you in some Bassey? You love Goldfinger.' 

'Well, it just wouldn't be appropriate to sing Girl from Tiger Bay, now would it?' 

I dunno. You'd make a very lovely girl. Maybe next Saturday we could ditch the karaoke bar for the drag club instead. I've got some fishnets in your size.' 

'Of course you do.' 

'I really want to hear Ianto sing,' Gwen implored. 

'He never sings,' Jack replied. 'Not even in the shower when he thinks no one is listening. I should know. I eavesdrop by the door all the time.' 

'You only wanted to get me drunk so I'd sing for you.' 

'I did. But also because you make really loud noises when we have drunken sex.' 

'Overshare!' Owen yelled. 

'How loud?' Tosh asked. 

'Oh! Jack! Please! Yes!' Jack shouted at the top of his lungs, doing his best impersonation whilst Ianto sloppily reached over to try and cover his mouth, failing until he finally locked lips with Jack, at which point the loud kissing noises were shared equally. 

Jack wasn't exactly drunk. It took a fair bit of liquor to get him there and this planet just didn't make the kind of ninety percent proof booze he'd grown up on. Still, it was fun to act drunk even if he wasn't. In fact, it was actually easier to do it sober, or just slightly buzzing, than it was when he was properly drunk. At least he'd remember it, which meant he'd also remember all of the hilarious antics of his teammates. Gods, but they needed more nights out like this. Kicking back with a few beers and pizzas at the hub was okay for the most part, but they hardly ever got a proper night off like this. And even when they did they were usually too scared to go out and get absolutely trashed in case something cropped up unexpectedly. The last thing anyone wanted to do was attempt to save the world when the world was still spinning and no one was quite sure if the pink dancing elephants were real or just imagined. 

By the time he finally let Ianto go, skinny guy was back up on stage. 'Is there an Owen Harper here tonight? We've got the Bon Jovi ready when you are.' 

Owen threw a murderous gate across the table at them. 'Alright, which if you lot stitched me up?' When no one fessed up he snatched the remainder of Jack's barely touched scotch, threw it back and stormed towards the stage, Gwen and Tosh hooting after him. 

Ianto leaned closer to Jack. 'I may be drunk but I still saw you slip that piece of paper to Cheryl.' 

Jack grinned. 'Owen's name wasn't the only one on it, just so you know. Warm up those pipes you sexy thing.'