Are You Free?
Dec. 13th, 2010 06:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sariagrayTitle: Are You Free?
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sariagray
Characters/Pairings: Jack/Ianto, Gwen, Owen, Tosh
Rating: PG, maybe?
Word Count: 1281
Spoilers: Post EOD/Part of KKBB
Warnings: Occasional language, Fluffyish
Beta: Beta'd by the wonderfulthebuttonontop . :)
Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction. No monetary compensation has been or will be garnered from this endeavor. This is purely for entertainment purposes and is no way intended to disrespect the creators/owners of Torchwood.
Author's Note: This was written as a holiday gift tojedi_harkness . She requested: "How about something about watching a marathon [of Are You Being Served?] or better yet, a crossover where they get a rift alert from Grace Bros.? (Pre-CoE team would be good.)" Well, I tried the crossover, but that came out a bit of muck. Then this happened instead, and I think it makes more sense. Also, if you haven't seen the show, here is some pertinent information: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0068040/plotsummary. Also, it's funny, so you should probably watch it if you can.
A/N 2: Oh! Time to be sentimental and sappy now! This fic also holds a special place in my heart. My mom and I bond over British television. (*Shrug* We're nuts). And although she has never seen Torchwood, she always answers the phone "Torchwood Central" (okay, sometimes when she answers, it's "Tanglewood" or "Travel Squad"...she's senile). And whenever she calls, she says "Are you free?" So I also kind of dedicate this to my mom (who now wants me to read it to her).
One night, a little less than a month after Jack had left them without a word, Tosh found herself at the front door of Ianto’s flat. She stood there with a curry and a bottle of red, her fist frozen in its motion to knock on the plain, solid door. She almost didn’t remember how she got to the place, her body on autopilot as she mentally worked through her problems. Shrugging, she let her fist change course and rang the bell instead. A moment later, and Ianto was standing in the doorway, wearing a plain cotton undershirt, track pants, and a worried frown.
“Tosh? Is something wrong?”
She gave him a small smile and held up her offerings. “Have you got clean plates and glasses?”
Grinning, he opened the door and showed her into the kitchen. As she set her bag and bottle on the counter, she heard strange grinding, clanking, ringing sounds (almost like a cash register) coming from his living room. She glanced at Ianto, confused, and he simply smiled in response. Then, as if on cue, the television blared.
Ground floor: Perfumery,
Stationery and leather goods,
Wigs and haberdashery,
Kitchenware and food….
Going up!
------
It started small; an episode here and there on the nights they had free, a bottle of wine and takeout shared companionably on Ianto’s couch. Gradually, Ianto’s boxed set was worked through.
“Ianto,” Tosh called from her station early one morning. “Are you free?”
Ianto looked up from his file and glanced around at the obviously empty space surrounding him. “I’m free!” He crossed over to her, both of them snickering ridiculously.
Gwen and Owen exchanged confused glances.
“Don’t look at me,” Owen muttered, shrugging. “Maybe they’ve finally cracked? It’s always the quiet ones.”
“Hmm. It could just be an evil genius thing,” Gwen suggested helpfully.
“That’s reassuring.”
They ignored the new idiosyncrasies of the pair well into a week before they started calling Gwen ‘Ms. Brahms.’
In her defense, Gwen tried to play it off good-naturedly for a while. “Oh? Is that a compliment or an insult, then, love?” she asked, giggling, as Ianto settled a coffee by her elbow.
He merely shrugged.
Owen was far less patient with the whole bit of nonsense, especially when the pair would only refer to him as ‘Mr. Lucas’.
“Here’s your instant coffee, Mr Lucas.”
Before Owen was able to protest this new abuse, Tosh piped up from across the Hub.
“Why’s it called instant coffee?” she asked.
“Because there is only one instant at which it tastes like coffee.”
They both burst out laughing, tears in their eyes. Owen looked helplessly at Gwen for a moment before huffing angrily.
“What the bloody hell is going on with you two?!”
Tosh and Ianto stopped laughing and glanced at each other. Ianto gave a tiny nod and, grinning, Tosh turned to her two confused teammates.
“Come by Ianto’s tonight. You’ll see. Half seven, I’ll set the rift alert to my mobile. Bring wine. And pizza.”
Completely flummoxed by the new information, Gwen focused on the one thing she could grasp. “You can set the rift alert to your mobile?!”
Ianto chuckled and began to set up the DVD. He heard the vaguely distant voices of Owen and Gwen as they entered and the sounds of paper, cardboard, and ceramics being shuffled around in the kitchen.
“Alright,” Owen said from the doorway, his voice raised. “What’s all this about, then?”
As the trio walked into the living room, Ianto smirked and turned up the volume.
First floor: Telephones,
Gents’ ready-made suits,
Shirts, socks, ties, hats,
Underwear and shoes….
Going up!
------
Less than two days of watching with the whole team, it became a ritual. Tuesdays and Thursdays, rift permitting, they gathered in Ianto’s flat with alcohol and food and the employees of Grace Bros. for company. And work became far more entertaining for them all, as well.
“So,” Gwen started after she swallowed a mouthful of the pizza they had ordered for lunch. “If I’m Ms. Brahms, and Owen’s Mr. Lucas, who are you two?”
The two in question shrugged almost simultaneously.
“I guess I’d have to be Mrs. Slocombe,” Tosh said reluctantly. “Not much to choose from.”
“Well, we already know who Teaboy is,” Owen grinned wickedly.
Gwen blinked. “That fellow what handles the displays and maintenance and things? Mr…Mash, was it?”
“Nah,” Owen’s grin widened. “Mr. Humphries.”
Ianto practically choked on the sip of coffee he had been taking; the others all fell into hysterics.
Soon enough (or not soon at all, depending on the views of each teammate), Jack was back. By unspoken agreement, Tuesday and Thursday nights continued. Jack never questioned where they all disappeared to, assuming it was a pub or restaurant at which they could bitch and moan about their errant boss. Truth be told, he was glad they had grown closer in his absence, even if it had subsequently left him out in the proverbial cold half of the time.
A couple of weeks into his return, Jack had been going over the paperwork filled out in during his hiatus. He was impressed with their work and emerged from his office to offer praise.
“I've been looking over the past few months,” he called out. “You’ve all done very well!”
There was a moment of almost awkward silence as each of his team stared back at him. Then, as though it had been pre-orchestrated, they all burst out laughing.
“What?” Jack scowled at them. “What is it?”
Catching his breath, Owen grinned. “That’s not your line, Captain…Peacock.”
This set everyone into even more pronounced fits of laughter, tears shining in the corners of each of their eyes, their faces red with the exertion.
“Huh?” Jack frowned, his face screwed up in a mixture of confusion and offense.
After they had exhausted themselves, Jack staring at them all the while, they looked at each other and nodded.
“My place,” Ianto called, a twinkle in his eye. “Tonight. Half six. Bring enough pizza and beer for all of us.”
Jack thought of protesting the summons, but changed his mind before he spoke. Instead, he nodded and retreated quickly into his office, wondering what this was all about.
~~~~~
At exactly half six, there was a rapid knocking on Ianto’s door. Grinning, Ianto rose and crossed the living room to open it. Jack stood on his doorstep, three large pizza boxes and a case of beer clutched awkwardly. Ianto took the pizzas from him and they walked side by side into the kitchen.
“So,” Jack began as he opened Ianto’s cabinets and removed five plates. “What’s going on?”
“You’ll see,” Ianto smirked as he checked the pizza boxes to verify that the order was correct.
“Hey,” Jack began. “You know…I…I’m glad…I mean, you’re….”
“Shut up, Jack,” Ianto deadpanned before grabbing him by the lapels of his coat and pulling him into a kiss.
It must’ve lasted longer than either man had realized, because they heard Owen shout, “Stop snogging in there! We’re hungry!”
Over the noise in the living room, Ianto could distinctly hear Tosh cry out, “And I am unanimous in this!”
Chuckling, they pulled away and carted in the food and beer. As they entered the room, Jack could hear the television.
Author:
sariagray Characters/Pairings: Jack/Ianto, Gwen, Owen, Tosh
Rating: PG, maybe?
Word Count: 1281
Spoilers: Post EOD/Part of KKBB
Warnings: Occasional language, Fluffyish
Beta: Beta'd by the wonderful
thebuttonontop . :)Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction. No monetary compensation has been or will be garnered from this endeavor. This is purely for entertainment purposes and is no way intended to disrespect the creators/owners of Torchwood.
Author's Note: This was written as a holiday gift to
jedi_harkness . She requested: "How about something about watching a marathon [of Are You Being Served?] or better yet, a crossover where they get a rift alert from Grace Bros.? (Pre-CoE team would be good.)" Well, I tried the crossover, but that came out a bit of muck. Then this happened instead, and I think it makes more sense. Also, if you haven't seen the show, here is some pertinent information: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0068040/plotsummary. Also, it's funny, so you should probably watch it if you can. A/N 2: Oh! Time to be sentimental and sappy now! This fic also holds a special place in my heart. My mom and I bond over British television. (*Shrug* We're nuts). And although she has never seen Torchwood, she always answers the phone "Torchwood Central" (okay, sometimes when she answers, it's "Tanglewood" or "Travel Squad"...she's senile). And whenever she calls, she says "Are you free?" So I also kind of dedicate this to my mom (who now wants me to read it to her).
One night, a little less than a month after Jack had left them without a word, Tosh found herself at the front door of Ianto’s flat. She stood there with a curry and a bottle of red, her fist frozen in its motion to knock on the plain, solid door. She almost didn’t remember how she got to the place, her body on autopilot as she mentally worked through her problems. Shrugging, she let her fist change course and rang the bell instead. A moment later, and Ianto was standing in the doorway, wearing a plain cotton undershirt, track pants, and a worried frown.
“Tosh? Is something wrong?”
She gave him a small smile and held up her offerings. “Have you got clean plates and glasses?”
Grinning, he opened the door and showed her into the kitchen. As she set her bag and bottle on the counter, she heard strange grinding, clanking, ringing sounds (almost like a cash register) coming from his living room. She glanced at Ianto, confused, and he simply smiled in response. Then, as if on cue, the television blared.
Ground floor: Perfumery,
Stationery and leather goods,
Wigs and haberdashery,
Kitchenware and food….
Going up!
------
It started small; an episode here and there on the nights they had free, a bottle of wine and takeout shared companionably on Ianto’s couch. Gradually, Ianto’s boxed set was worked through.
“Ianto,” Tosh called from her station early one morning. “Are you free?”
Ianto looked up from his file and glanced around at the obviously empty space surrounding him. “I’m free!” He crossed over to her, both of them snickering ridiculously.
Gwen and Owen exchanged confused glances.
“Don’t look at me,” Owen muttered, shrugging. “Maybe they’ve finally cracked? It’s always the quiet ones.”
“Hmm. It could just be an evil genius thing,” Gwen suggested helpfully.
“That’s reassuring.”
They ignored the new idiosyncrasies of the pair well into a week before they started calling Gwen ‘Ms. Brahms.’
In her defense, Gwen tried to play it off good-naturedly for a while. “Oh? Is that a compliment or an insult, then, love?” she asked, giggling, as Ianto settled a coffee by her elbow.
He merely shrugged.
Owen was far less patient with the whole bit of nonsense, especially when the pair would only refer to him as ‘Mr. Lucas’.
“Here’s your instant coffee, Mr Lucas.”
Before Owen was able to protest this new abuse, Tosh piped up from across the Hub.
“Why’s it called instant coffee?” she asked.
“Because there is only one instant at which it tastes like coffee.”
They both burst out laughing, tears in their eyes. Owen looked helplessly at Gwen for a moment before huffing angrily.
“What the bloody hell is going on with you two?!”
Tosh and Ianto stopped laughing and glanced at each other. Ianto gave a tiny nod and, grinning, Tosh turned to her two confused teammates.
“Come by Ianto’s tonight. You’ll see. Half seven, I’ll set the rift alert to my mobile. Bring wine. And pizza.”
Completely flummoxed by the new information, Gwen focused on the one thing she could grasp. “You can set the rift alert to your mobile?!”
~~~~
At quarter to seven, Ianto’s doorbell rang.
Ianto chuckled and began to set up the DVD. He heard the vaguely distant voices of Owen and Gwen as they entered and the sounds of paper, cardboard, and ceramics being shuffled around in the kitchen.
“Alright,” Owen said from the doorway, his voice raised. “What’s all this about, then?”
As the trio walked into the living room, Ianto smirked and turned up the volume.
First floor: Telephones,
Gents’ ready-made suits,
Shirts, socks, ties, hats,
Underwear and shoes….
Going up!
------
Less than two days of watching with the whole team, it became a ritual. Tuesdays and Thursdays, rift permitting, they gathered in Ianto’s flat with alcohol and food and the employees of Grace Bros. for company. And work became far more entertaining for them all, as well.
“So,” Gwen started after she swallowed a mouthful of the pizza they had ordered for lunch. “If I’m Ms. Brahms, and Owen’s Mr. Lucas, who are you two?”
The two in question shrugged almost simultaneously.
“I guess I’d have to be Mrs. Slocombe,” Tosh said reluctantly. “Not much to choose from.”
“Well, we already know who Teaboy is,” Owen grinned wickedly.
Gwen blinked. “That fellow what handles the displays and maintenance and things? Mr…Mash, was it?”
“Nah,” Owen’s grin widened. “Mr. Humphries.”
Ianto practically choked on the sip of coffee he had been taking; the others all fell into hysterics.
Soon enough (or not soon at all, depending on the views of each teammate), Jack was back. By unspoken agreement, Tuesday and Thursday nights continued. Jack never questioned where they all disappeared to, assuming it was a pub or restaurant at which they could bitch and moan about their errant boss. Truth be told, he was glad they had grown closer in his absence, even if it had subsequently left him out in the proverbial cold half of the time.
A couple of weeks into his return, Jack had been going over the paperwork filled out in during his hiatus. He was impressed with their work and emerged from his office to offer praise.
“I've been looking over the past few months,” he called out. “You’ve all done very well!”
There was a moment of almost awkward silence as each of his team stared back at him. Then, as though it had been pre-orchestrated, they all burst out laughing.
“What?” Jack scowled at them. “What is it?”
Catching his breath, Owen grinned. “That’s not your line, Captain…Peacock.”
This set everyone into even more pronounced fits of laughter, tears shining in the corners of each of their eyes, their faces red with the exertion.
“Huh?” Jack frowned, his face screwed up in a mixture of confusion and offense.
After they had exhausted themselves, Jack staring at them all the while, they looked at each other and nodded.
“My place,” Ianto called, a twinkle in his eye. “Tonight. Half six. Bring enough pizza and beer for all of us.”
Jack thought of protesting the summons, but changed his mind before he spoke. Instead, he nodded and retreated quickly into his office, wondering what this was all about.
~~~~~
At exactly half six, there was a rapid knocking on Ianto’s door. Grinning, Ianto rose and crossed the living room to open it. Jack stood on his doorstep, three large pizza boxes and a case of beer clutched awkwardly. Ianto took the pizzas from him and they walked side by side into the kitchen.
“So,” Jack began as he opened Ianto’s cabinets and removed five plates. “What’s going on?”
“You’ll see,” Ianto smirked as he checked the pizza boxes to verify that the order was correct.
“Hey,” Jack began. “You know…I…I’m glad…I mean, you’re….”
“Shut up, Jack,” Ianto deadpanned before grabbing him by the lapels of his coat and pulling him into a kiss.
It must’ve lasted longer than either man had realized, because they heard Owen shout, “Stop snogging in there! We’re hungry!”
Over the noise in the living room, Ianto could distinctly hear Tosh cry out, “And I am unanimous in this!”
Chuckling, they pulled away and carted in the food and beer. As they entered the room, Jack could hear the television.
Second floor: Carpets,
Travel goods and bedding,
Material, soft furnishings,
Restaurant and teas….
Going down!
The End.
Travel goods and bedding,
Material, soft furnishings,
Restaurant and teas….
Going down!
The End.
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Date: 2010-12-16 03:01 am (UTC)brilliant!
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Date: 2010-12-17 12:38 am (UTC)