An Injury to One - Chapter Three
Sep. 16th, 2010 08:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sariagrayTitle: An Injury to One
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sariagray
Chapter: 3
Characters/Pairings: Jack/Ianto, OC
Rating: PG-13 or R or somewhere in between.
Word Count: ~500
Spoilers: Post CoE. Therefore, the whole series. Some Doctor Who - expect up to the 4th Season.
Warnings: Language. Implied sex.
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. Oh, but if it did….
Betas: Thanks tolynnmyth23 for the ideas and edits and enthusiastic response. Any mistakes in here are my own! Feel free to point them out! Or, just point and laugh.
Author’s Note: Apparently I recover faster than I had expected. Two more chapters. Not sure how I feel about these, maybe because they are getting more serious? Also, I really truly love feedback, so please comment! It makes me write faster. Like how chanting "Doctor" brought the Doctor back, or clapping hands helped Tinkerbell recover. True fact.
The night was deepening around them and the street was still, slumbering. He drew his jacket around himself to keep out the cold, the damp, and the dark.
The Doctor shook his head. "Whichever is right."
--------------
“Arthur…” Jack started, then stopped. Opened his mouth again, and then clamped it shut. “Doesn’t feel right.”
"What do you call The Doctor after he regenerates?"
Jack raised his eyebrow.
"Is this...a joke?"
"No, no. I really want to know.”
"Well... I just call him The Doctor." Jack looked uncomfortably unsure of himself for the briefest of moments. A smile of dawning realization spread across his face.
"Ianto," he said with both affirmation and awe.
“If that’s what you want, Sir.” Ianto smiled at him and took a sip of his coffee. “The Doctor called me Ianto Jones Arthur Taylor, but I think he was just being difficult.”
Jack laughed and nodded. “Plus,” he pointed out, “it could prove difficult in certain situations.”
He watched as Ianto first raised his eyebrows in question, then widened his eyes, before finally settling on a blush.
Jack grinned; he had missed that reaction very much, indeed.
--------------
He was amazed (though he realized that he really shouldn’t be) to see that the Hub had been rebuilt. It wasn’t nearly as dark or as dank as he remembered. He was almost disappointed.
He couldn’t find a coffee machine, though, and it took every last bit of strength he had not to comment on its absence.
Jack came up behind him and put a tentative hand on his shoulder.
“So…what were you doing waiting outside?”
“Well, I couldn’t very well ring the doorbell, could I?”
“Hmmm,” Jack thought it over and laughed. “You could’ve dressed up as a delivery boy and then just thrown yourself at me.” He grinned devilishly at the thought.
He crossed to his desk, sat down in his chair, leaned back with his arms behind his head, and kept grinning.
“True, Sir," came the reply, "but then how would you know it was me?”
-------------
It wasn’t until four days later that Jack made any sort of move. It started, simply, with a question.
“What was it like?”
Ianto looked up from the stack of papers he was sorting on Jack’s desk. He had resumed his old position more out of sympathy than anything else; the Hub, though new and clean and bright, was even more disorganized than it had been when he first came to Torchwood 3.
“What was what like?”
“Dying.”
“I…it was dark. There was a voice. But it wasn’t frightening. It was more – soothing. Guiding. And then there was this light…” he paused and closed his eyes. “The next thing I remember, I bumped my knee and someone scooped me up and I was Arthur. It feels like I have another person’s memories in my head. Well, it’s not my head, is it?” He went back to his work.
Jack came around the desk and put his arms around him. Ianto relaxed a little.
“Jack?”
“Hmmm?”
Ianto leaned back a little into the embrace.
“Which do you like me better as? I mean, are you more attracted to me now than you were then?”
Fuck.
So he kissed him quiet.
Author:
sariagray Chapter: 3
Characters/Pairings: Jack/Ianto, OC
Rating: PG-13 or R or somewhere in between.
Word Count: ~500
Spoilers: Post CoE. Therefore, the whole series. Some Doctor Who - expect up to the 4th Season.
Warnings: Language. Implied sex.
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. Oh, but if it did….
Betas: Thanks to
lynnmyth23 for the ideas and edits and enthusiastic response. Any mistakes in here are my own! Feel free to point them out! Or, just point and laugh.Author’s Note: Apparently I recover faster than I had expected. Two more chapters. Not sure how I feel about these, maybe because they are getting more serious? Also, I really truly love feedback, so please comment! It makes me write faster. Like how chanting "Doctor" brought the Doctor back, or clapping hands helped Tinkerbell recover. True fact.
An Injury to One
Chapter Three
"What do I call myself?"Chapter Three
The night was deepening around them and the street was still, slumbering. He drew his jacket around himself to keep out the cold, the damp, and the dark.
The Doctor shook his head. "Whichever is right."
--------------
“Arthur…” Jack started, then stopped. Opened his mouth again, and then clamped it shut. “Doesn’t feel right.”
"What do you call The Doctor after he regenerates?"
Jack raised his eyebrow.
"Is this...a joke?"
"No, no. I really want to know.”
"Well... I just call him The Doctor." Jack looked uncomfortably unsure of himself for the briefest of moments. A smile of dawning realization spread across his face.
"Ianto," he said with both affirmation and awe.
“If that’s what you want, Sir.” Ianto smiled at him and took a sip of his coffee. “The Doctor called me Ianto Jones Arthur Taylor, but I think he was just being difficult.”
Jack laughed and nodded. “Plus,” he pointed out, “it could prove difficult in certain situations.”
He watched as Ianto first raised his eyebrows in question, then widened his eyes, before finally settling on a blush.
Jack grinned; he had missed that reaction very much, indeed.
--------------
He was amazed (though he realized that he really shouldn’t be) to see that the Hub had been rebuilt. It wasn’t nearly as dark or as dank as he remembered. He was almost disappointed.
He couldn’t find a coffee machine, though, and it took every last bit of strength he had not to comment on its absence.
Jack came up behind him and put a tentative hand on his shoulder.
“So…what were you doing waiting outside?”
“Well, I couldn’t very well ring the doorbell, could I?”
“Hmmm,” Jack thought it over and laughed. “You could’ve dressed up as a delivery boy and then just thrown yourself at me.” He grinned devilishly at the thought.
He crossed to his desk, sat down in his chair, leaned back with his arms behind his head, and kept grinning.
“True, Sir," came the reply, "but then how would you know it was me?”
-------------
It wasn’t until four days later that Jack made any sort of move. It started, simply, with a question.
“What was it like?”
Ianto looked up from the stack of papers he was sorting on Jack’s desk. He had resumed his old position more out of sympathy than anything else; the Hub, though new and clean and bright, was even more disorganized than it had been when he first came to Torchwood 3.
“What was what like?”
“Dying.”
“I…it was dark. There was a voice. But it wasn’t frightening. It was more – soothing. Guiding. And then there was this light…” he paused and closed his eyes. “The next thing I remember, I bumped my knee and someone scooped me up and I was Arthur. It feels like I have another person’s memories in my head. Well, it’s not my head, is it?” He went back to his work.
Jack came around the desk and put his arms around him. Ianto relaxed a little.
“Jack?”
“Hmmm?”
Ianto leaned back a little into the embrace.
“Which do you like me better as? I mean, are you more attracted to me now than you were then?”
Fuck.
So he kissed him quiet.
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Date: 2010-09-17 01:20 am (UTC)And thanks as always for reading and commenting! :-D