othercaptjack | (no subject)

(no subject)

It is raining outside the base, in the deceptive manner of English Spring that means what might look like a light shower has left Jack decidedly wet as he swings into the Hub, alarms blaring behind him. It's late in the evening, but his latest Weevil chase had gone on for longer than he had thought it would.

They're getting cunning. He's perversely pleased.

He throws his coat across the couch as he passes, scrubbing a hand through his wet hair and heading for his office. He has no real reason to expect anyone else to be here this late.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Jack won't mind even if Ianto is, because he's irritatingly casual about that kind of thing.

He rolls his eyes tolerantly and swings the towel around his shoulders.

"Since you ask so nicely, go on then," he says, and privately thinks it's lucky that his rapid healing is limited to when he actually dies. "And why don't you tell me what you've been up to today while you're at it. I can only stand written reports for so long."

Ianto pulls over a chair and sits, and presses the ice pack carefully to the worst of the bruises.

"I have been transcribing interviews from 1954 for the sightings database. And reading the latest GQ," he adds, because why not be honest. -ish.

"You don't have any scrapes that need cleaning, do you? Weevil infections can be so nasty."

"Excellent," Jack approves, smiling just slightly more widely as Ianto attands to his bruises, because it's him.

"Think I manages to avoid any this time," he continues. "Which is good, because I seem to tear up shirts like tissue paper most of the time. One of these days I'm going to start going on missions naked just to save on bills. Think we might get complaints?"

Ianto smirks and says quietly, "Only from prudes. Though I think you'd get cold eventually."

"For the sake of my poor shirts, I would withstand it," Jack says nobly, and tries to hide a wince as the towel touches one of the deeper bruises.

"We'll just have to get you more shirts," Ianto says, and adds, "Oh, sorry," as he moves the ice pack. "Maybe you ought to get off your feet."

"Yes, Ianto," Jack says with smirking obedience, feeling his way backwards to his chair.

Ianto gives him an exasperated look. "And all this time I thought looking after you was part of the job description."

"And you are nothing if not dutiful, hmm?" Jack says, raising an eyebrow, but voice a little less bright.

Ianto gives him a puzzled look. "If I were merely dutiful I might have left you with the towel. Now, turn 'round and let me help you, please."

That makes Jack oddly pleased, and he pauses for ajust a moment too long, smiling oddly.

"Sure," he says eventually. "Thank you."

"Fighting me every step of the way," Ianto says, under his breath but not really, and gives Jack's hair an affectionate brush with his fingers. "Like you think you're indestructible."

Jack looks back over his shoulder, moving the towel obligingly out of the way.

"I've survived this long," he says, matter-of-fact but almost sadly.

Ianto doesn't speak for a moment or two, then very quietly, "Your skin's cold."

And not just in a 'duh, I've been holding ice to it' kind of way.

"It seems to me," he adds, "or rather, it has been pointed out to me lately, that mere survival is not always enough."

...Touche.

"Rather me getting a bit beat up occasionally than someone less experienced getting killed," he says firmly.

"I worry when you go out alone," Ianto says simply.

Jack turns around properly to look back at Ianto.

"Hey," he says, almost surprised. "I'm not going anywhere." And then, just a little dryly, "I promise."

"I'm not saying you are," Ianto says, surprised as well. "Just that, maybe, you ought to take me with you.

"Weevil-hunting."

He's fairly certain he's not talking about anything else right now.

Oh, now, taken literally, that could be awkward.

Jack... well, Jack does know why he doesn't tell his staff that he's immortal, and it's his experiences of being experimented on in the early days. But sometimes it's hard, like when you have to explain the risks you take to someone who offers to share them...

But there's that meaning, and then there's the other meaning.

"Do you think you'd be all right?" Jack says instead, watching Ianto's face.

"Yes," Ianto says, meeting Jack's scrutiny steadily. "I always have your back, Jack. And I know you'd have mine."

Damn it. He's right.

"Tell you what," Jack says. "We'll try it. You get hurt, though, and I'm grounding you."

He points a mock-stern finger at Ianto's face.

"Yes, sir," Ianto says, so meekly it should probably cause some suspicion.

Jack steps in, just a little more serious.

"Don't think I don't mean that literally. I don't like my people getting hurt."

Except, you know, when they fight.

"I know you don't," Ianto says, and adds, with an odd sort of nostalgia, "I don't remember much after Breton Becons but I remember how you were."

Jack's gaze slips sideways.

"I was rather hoping you wouldn't. I think I got a little out of control there."

He also feels that trees sort of grow out of the earth.