I've been obsessed with Torchwood lately, and Jack and Ianto, and god, how furious Ianto was after Cyberwoman, how hurt and aching and angry -- at Jack, too, mainly because it let him deny his own involvement in Lisa's death.
A few days after, Ianto's trying to pretend that everything is normal. The rest of the team locks up, goes home, but Jack and Ianto are left -- like they always are. So Ianto brews some coffee and takes it down into the Hub, and as he sets the mug down on the desk next to Jack, he can't help it, the word monster slips from his lips, low and hissed.
And Jack loses it, has had enough and taken too much, and launches up out of his chair and grabs Ianto around the neck and throws him, just, hurls him into a wall. And Ianto hits, slides down to the floor and sits there, slumped and panting, clutching at his throat with one hand, eyes wide and looking up at Jack with obvious, honest fear.
"You need to forget it," Jack tells him, taking slow steps toward Ianto, predatory and careful. "You need to move on."
"I loved her," Ianto chokes out. Jack, the bastard, laughs.
"You loved a robot. That's ... that's very you, Ianto." And he reaches down and offers Ianto a hand to help him up.
Ianto glares at him and bats his hand away, and Jack's face twists with fury and he grabs the front of Ianto's shirt, hauls him to his feet and slams him back against the wall, Jack's forearm braced against Ianto's shoulders, pinning him there.
"Forget her," he snarls, and presses his mouth against Ianto's.
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Date: 2006-12-08 12:06 am (UTC)A few days after, Ianto's trying to pretend that everything is normal. The rest of the team locks up, goes home, but Jack and Ianto are left -- like they always are. So Ianto brews some coffee and takes it down into the Hub, and as he sets the mug down on the desk next to Jack, he can't help it, the word monster slips from his lips, low and hissed.
And Jack loses it, has had enough and taken too much, and launches up out of his chair and grabs Ianto around the neck and throws him, just, hurls him into a wall. And Ianto hits, slides down to the floor and sits there, slumped and panting, clutching at his throat with one hand, eyes wide and looking up at Jack with obvious, honest fear.
"You need to forget it," Jack tells him, taking slow steps toward Ianto, predatory and careful. "You need to move on."
"I loved her," Ianto chokes out. Jack, the bastard, laughs.
"You loved a robot. That's ... that's very you, Ianto." And he reaches down and offers Ianto a hand to help him up.
Ianto glares at him and bats his hand away, and Jack's face twists with fury and he grabs the front of Ianto's shirt, hauls him to his feet and slams him back against the wall, Jack's forearm braced against Ianto's shoulders, pinning him there.
"Forget her," he snarls, and presses his mouth against Ianto's.
And then I zone out from hot.