Use It in a Sentence; Week Five

[sariagray]

Title: Use It in A Sentence; Week 5
Author: sariagray 
Characters: Jack/Ianto, Team
Word Count: 7 not-quite-drabbles ranging from around 200-400 words apiece.
Rating: PG13
Warnings: Some hints at spoilers for the whole series. Unbeta'd so if you're feeling adventurous, go ahead and find the mistakes I've "hidden" throughout.
Disclaimer: This is solely for amusement. Torchwood and all it entails is owned by men and women far better off than I. They make the money. I just get to play in their sandbox.

Author’s Note: Drabbles. *Snort* I don’t know what happened this week. They kind of got away from me. I set limits and then I break them, apparently. This is going to be my last week for a while, because RL is being a bit of a bother. And because I’m working on something absolutely ridiculous for all of you.  I may continue this at another time, who knows? The words can all be found here. Comment and let me know what you've learned! :) 

Previous Weeks: Week One, Week Two, Week Three, Week Four

 

 

 

     

Use It in a Sentence
Week Five

Vagary: An erratic, unpredictable, or extravagant manifestation, action, or notion. “Stock market analysts were pressed to determine whether the sharp decline in prices was a one-day vagary or a sign of more serious economic trouble on the horizon.”
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       Ianto opened the door to his flat, strode in, and froze when he caught sight of Jack.
       "You're not going to get down on one knee are you?" His brow was creased in worry.
       "What? No. Unless you want me to, but it's usually more comfortable when I'm on both," Jack smirked.
       "Oh thank God," he muttered. "Then what's all of this is about?"
       Ianto swept his hand out to indicate a mixed bouquet of flowers, the chilling bottle of (rather expensive, if he was correct in his observation) wine, a pair of candles flickering on the table, and the low hum of soft instrumental music playing. He finished his gesture by nodding toward the small box Jack was clutching nervously.
       "To celebrate one year," Jack said as he glanced down at his feet.
       Ianto thought for a moment. Not their first kiss, surely. He would remember that day his whole life, though for an entirely different reason. Not of their first kiss that meant something other than "Don't die," either (because as much as he'd rather not admit it, he'd always remember that day, too). It wasn't when they met, or when he had started working, or when they caught Myfanwy. It certainly wasn't their first shag, either. It wasn't their first date, as that had only been almost two months ago (exactly 57 days, but he wasn't counting). He looked up at Jack.
       "Of what?"
       "It's...something personal," Jack quietly answered.
       Ianto sighed as though he was being dreadfully inconvenienced but his eyes were smiling. He crossed the room and kissed Jack in a breathless way that indicated complete understanding.
       And that left Jack absolutely terrified; how could Ianto know that exactly one year ago he had been brought to kneel before Jack, bound and bloody, whispering "I love you" before the guard shot him execution style? How could he know that exactly one year ago, Jack realized that he would do anything to get him back if he could?
       "Thank you," Ianto whispered in his ear.
       No matter how, he knew.

Fossick: To search about : rummage; to search for by or as if by rummaging : ferret out. “As teenagers, the twins spent many summer afternoons fossicking for opals in the old mine.”
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       They sat together at the kitchen table, eating their food in silence. A question hung in the air, fluttering around their heads like an errant moth. Neither knew how to give it a voice, both content that moths should remain quiet creatures.
       "Owen wants tomorrow off," Ianto supplied to fill the growing void.
       "He's dead. What's he need a day off for?"
       Ianto shrugged.
       "Why can't he tell me himself?"
       "He insists you'll listen to me."
       "You two have gotten closer. I'm glad, though a little suspicious."
       Ianto laughed mirthlessly and took another bite of his dish. "Yep. The Zombie and the Tea-Boy, plotting to take over the world. Don't worry, though. We'll give you a fancy title."
       The question hovered closer; Ianto gave up ignoring its incessant fluttering of wings and swat at it.
       "Do you, really?" he finally asked.
       Jack started to raise an eyebrow and sighed, relinquishing his feigned confusion.
       "Yes."
       "Oh."
       "Is that all? 'Oh'?"
       "Yes, er, no, it's just...are you sure?"
       "I've been around some time. I'd like to think so."
       "Me, too."
       "You too what?" Jack hated the desperate edge in his voice, but did nothing to quell it.
       Ianto gulped. "I...feel the same..." he fumbled.
       "Are you sure?" Jack echoed as he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.
       "I've been through some things. I'd like to think so," Ianto smiled.
       The question was drawn into the flames where it burned brightly.

Ineluctable: Not to be avoided, changed, or resisted : inevitable. “Even the best athletes have to contend with the ineluctable fact that they will grow older and must someday face opponents who are younger, faster, and stronger.”
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       Ianto rested his head on his hand as he guarded Jack's slumber. Ever since the Captain had returned, the air around him seemed to exude a sentient lethargy, an alien hollowness that was almost as frightening as the desperate need that spilled out from every pore. Now asleep, his brows were furrowed and his lips parted in silent protest.
       With his free hand, Ianto stroked soothing circles across Jack's chest. It felt awkward but the motion seemed to soothe the torment, so he continued.
      Something had happened. Something irrevocable and horrific that he knew Jack would never mention. Ianto had been first scared, then hurt, furious, and finally resigned at Jack's departure. Now his body contained all of those emotions at once and there was little he could do to sort them out, let alone alleviate them or their cause.
      Jack had gone off to be cured by his precious Doctor only to be returned more damaged than when he had left. He was frustrated with the chaotic mess the Doctor had left behind, yet grateful to be the one chosen to pick up the pieces. And he swore that if he ever met the Time Lord, he'd punch him in the face.
       "'What's there to fix?’ " he muttered bitterly to himself before draping his arm around Jack's waist and shifting closer.

Sylvan: Living or located in the woods or forest; of, relating to, or characteristic of the woods or forest; made, shaped, or formed of woods or trees; abounding in woods, groves, or trees : wooded. “We walked along a sylvan path for several miles and then emerged into a clearing.”
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       The Weevil lay at their feet as they collected their breath, short pants materializing as visible white puffs in the cold evening air. It had been a strenuous job tracking the creature through the dark, dense forest for the past hour and both men were paying the price. The wine they had been drinking prior to the alert certainly hadn't helped matters.
       "It's beautiful, isn't it?"
       "What?" Ianto managed to exhale. "A comatose Weevil?"
       Jack shot him a look, complete with raised eyebrow and smirk. "Really? That's the first thing you thought of? I meant the landscape."
       "Yes, it's lovely. Can we go back now?"
       "Cold?" Jack smiled as he approached Ianto and pulled him close.
       "Wouldn't be if you gave me time to grab my coat."
       "Sorry."
       Jack leaned forward and brushed his lips gently against Ianto's, tightening his embrace as he felt a shudder pass through Ianto's body. Gradually, their bodies relaxed and tensed again as the kiss rose in intensity; the firm press of lips and bodies created a bell curve, the ebb and flow of strain in their muscles.
       Pulling away to gulp down much-needed oxygen, Jack pressed their foreheads together.
       "Better?" he breathed, his eyes focused on Ianto's mouth.
       "Much. And the view's drastically improved."

Precentor: A leader of the singing of a choir or congregation. “He was deeply devoted to our congregation, and served as precentor at the church for the last 20 years of his life.”
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       Jack grinned at his shocked team, their faces exhibiting various levels of disbelief that suited them well.
       Owen's mouth was a thin line, his eyes narrowed, as though his features were threatening to implode in on themselves.
       Tosh stood stock still. Her mouth and eyes widened into little "o"s of surprise as the gears turned around in her head. What specifically she was working out, Jack had no clue.
       He wanted to laugh at Gwen's dropped jaw and wrinkled nose. Her eyes, however, spoke of sheer horror as though he had suggested that she should take Janet out on a date.
       But it was Ianto's expression which drew his attention the most. It was completely stoic save for the raised eyebrow and slight twitch of upturned lips. It was indulgent, affectionate, and contained the tiniest hint of exasperation.
       Of course, he was the first to break the shocked silence. Jack had expected as much.
       "Sir," Ianto began, clearing his throat in an attempt to cover his amused tone. "While starting a band would be a disaster, using alien instruments would only serve to herald the end of the known world. Besides, 'Captain Harkness’s Tortured Hearts Club Band' is quite possibly the worst name I've ever heard. Even if it is rather telling."

Armistice: Temporary suspension of hostilities by agreement between the opponents : truce. “The Korean War ended with an armistice signed in July of 1953, though a permanent peace accord was never reached.”
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       "Who's in charge, then?" Owen scowled and crossed his arms over his chest.
       "Ianto?" Gwen asked, hopefully.
       The man in question shook his head and put up his hands defensively.
       "Tosh?" he supplied.
       "Oh right," she replied with a rueful smile. "Because you all listen to me. Gwen?"
       "I don't know enough. Mostly fieldwork. You're all more experienced."
       "How come no one's suggested me yet?"
       Everyone glared at Owen for a moment before Ianto finally spoke up again, thoughtfully.
       "I'll be in charge of handling all administrative tasks. Gwen'll be my second."
       Gwen nodded enthusiastically, having garnered some experience in her previous occupation. Ianto smiled thankfully at her and continued.
       "Tosh's head of Tech; I will be her support. Gwen'll manage Fieldwork, with Owen in her place as necessary. Finally, Owen is in charge of Medical, succeeded by Tosh. Good?"
       He was pleased to see a universal look of relief on the team's faces as they voiced their acceptance. It was far from perfect, but it was better than nothing.
       "All right, then. Gwen, meet me in Jack's office in ten so I can show you what needs to be done in my absence. Owen, do the same with Tosh. We'll switch off in about an hour. I'll go make us some coffee."
       Gwen and Tosh bounced out of the room, grateful to have something to occupy their minds. Owen lagged behind.
       "Hey," the doctor finally spoke as he stood in the doorway, the uncertain tone surprising Ianto. "He'll be back before we need replacements. Yeah?"
       "Yeah," Ianto echoed with the ghost of a smile, not quite sure who needed the reassurance more.

Golden Parachute: A generous severance agreement for a corporate executive in the event of a sudden dismissal (as because of a merger). “When he was hired, John had insisted that his contract include a golden parachute to ensure that he could still live comfortably if his position was ever eliminated.”
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       They were all so human.
       His team was gathered around Owen's computer, laughing almost hysterically at something on the screen. He swore he would have scolded them for not working, but it just didn't seem like the right time.
       When he hired Gwen (requisitioned her, really), he thought that his jaded, callous team needed humanity. He also, secretly, thought that Gwen needed a bit of reality. Now it dawned on him that humanity was always there in each of them.
       Owen was caustic and cruel, but that was a shell. And a way to show he cared and noticed. Annoying, sure, and a bit contrary, but it was really no different than Gwen's sympathetic looks and questions of concern. He would do anything to save a life, to mete out justice in the names of the voiceless, to rail against desperate cruelty with his last breath.
       And Tosh was full of love and compassion. She didn't need Gwen to bring that out; she was like that from the beginning. Maybe she had to be jarred into the real world occasionally, but that sweetness was always, always there. She was generous and kind, that much was true, but her ability to connect data to the human experience belied the tender heart beneath the technical exterior more than any other gesture.
       Then there was the man who, even when once relegated to the shadows, was always there when needed. Despite the countless times Jack has died and revived, Ianto never once took a death for granted. He never took a life for granted either, and was always ready with coffee, food, humor, or a strong dose of reality as the situation demanded. Or particularly mind-blowing sex, but that wasn't for the rest of the team. At least he hoped not. As Jack considered, Ianto looked up and caught his eye, smiling warmly in invitation.
       Gwen was just a piece in the complicated puzzle that was his team, his family. He loved them all. Maybe in different ways, maybe for different reasons, but it was quickly becoming hard fact. Smiling to himself, he crossed to Owen's station to join in the fun.
   Yes, he loved them deeply. And he knew he would do everything in his power to catch each of them should they fall.

End