My Blue Castle

“Don’t take the piss with me. You’ve got to be shagging him.”

John smiled into his pint.

“So everyone says,” he replied, eyes twinkling.

“So you’re…” Lestrade floundered, his face asking what he seemed unable to vocalize.

“Happy?” John asked pointedly, swallowing down his pint and signaling for another.

“Bloody Hell,” Lestrade muttered.

John took pity on Lestrade then.

“Shagging. No.” John said, adding, “Is there a word for people who are more than mates, and less than lovers?”

“Hell if I know.”

John snorted.

“Yeah. That works” and laughed.

“Ianto, stop cleaning that.”

“I’d rather finish, Sir.”

“You’re not going to talk about this, are you?”

“Would you hand me a bin liner?”

Tosh said that you said…”

“I wasn’t at my most objective, just at that moment. I’ll put it in my report.”

“I’m trying to help.”

“You don’t call saving our lives in a most dramatic manner helping?”

“Only if you wanted to live.”

“I’ll be in first thing tomorrow, Jack. You can help me unload the SUV, yeah?”

“Bright and early, Ianto.”

And Jack watched as Ianto went to incinerate the contents of the Hub fridge.

(this has sort of been done to death I know, but that's what came out of my brain today.)
 

been down with a headache for most of the day, but the minute I slack off from committments I've made to myself they all fall apart. So here's today's 100 words.

“Well there’s no use your being such a bitch about it.”

“Rhys, love…”

“Just shut it, Gwen.”

“I can’t just go, not like this.”

“Why should this time be any different?”

“I’m trying to tell you why…”

“Maybe I’m tired of your explanations.”

He stared at her for a long moment before asking, “Well, are you going or aren’t you.”

“I’m not leaving until we talk about this.”

“Just because you want to talk, doesn’t mean I want to listen!”

As Rhys slammed out of their flat, Gwen was left wondering in the kitchen, watching her phone blink simply, “Torchwood.”

Lying there warm and dozy in the darkness, head pillowed on Jack’s chest, he found himself asking a question he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer to.

“What does it feel like, the glove?”

Jack shifted beneath him, “What do you mean?”

Ianto’s hand found one of Jack’s and he twined their fingers together as he asked, “What does it feel like to have the power to bring someone back from the dead?”

Ianto wasn’t entirely surprised when Jack grinned, rolled Ianto onto his back, and slid down between his legs with a cheery, “Well, let’s find out shall we.”

Jack stood there, far in the background, under a shady tree. He watched the simple funeral service. He watched as the mourners paid their respects and left. He knelt next to the gravesite as dusk was shadowing the tombstones of the little cemetery. He started when he felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked up to see Ianto standing next to him, holding a white rose.

“May I?” Ianto asked, gesturing towards the grave.

Jack stood, and took a step back before nodding once.