Fic: "We're Very Casual Here" Jack/Gwen
Title: We're Very Casual Here
Author: 51stcenturyfox
Pairing: Jack/Gwen UST, Rhys/Gwen + other pairings suggested
Wordcount: 790
Summary: Gwen's (first) Torchwood proposition. Cracky fluff
Rating: R for language
A/N: Set during Day One, after the team return from the nightclub where Carys nailed her first victim. So to speak.
Gwen perused the coroner's report over Jack's shoulder as he sat as his desk. She wrinkled her brow.
"Now, this bit.." she said as she gestured at the printout, "...is just bloody weird. How did you lot get this, anyway, and so quickly?"
"You lot? Never mind. You'll discover that Torchwood has access to pretty much everything that's officially secret and secretly official." Her brand new boss chucked the report onto the desk, swiveled in his chair and regarded her with a serious look.
"How'd you like to have sex, Gwen Cooper?"
"What?" Gwen's mouth fell open.
"You were just whispering sort of huskily into my ear, not to mention brushing your...bosom against my shoulder, which is, as I'm sure you know, arousing. Were you trying to suggest to me that you'd, as you might say, fancy a shag?"
At the last, Jack switched to a pathetically poor rendition of a London accent. In fact, Gwen thought he sounded something like that Owen bloke, which was rather disconcerting given the context of his words. First impressions, but Owen seemed a bit of a wanker. She couldn't imagine shagging him.
"Well?" Jack raised his eyebrows.
Gwen straightened, leaned back on her heels and stared at Jack, eyes wide. This sort of exchange had certainly never happened between colleagues at the Cardiff Constabulary. To her knowledge. And had Jack Harkness just used the word "bosom"?
"No answer? It's a pretty simple query with two possible replies: 'Do you want to have sex with me?' Yes or No? Tick a box, any box."
"Sir -"
"Gwen, we're very casual here. 'Jack' is fine. Unless you have a kink I'm not aware of. Yet. In that case, by all means, go with 'Sir'. I like that too. It's been done, but..."
Gwen felt a twinge at the back of her brain at that. Hadn't Ianto Jones mentioned something about "sexual harassment"? She struggled to remember. The last few days had been a bit of a blur. Alien gas escaping from a meteorite, a man being screwed to death in a nightclub loo...
"I think... this is what's called sexual harassment," she managed, with a weak smile.
"Oh!" Jack brightened. "Well, we're outside the government. Far, far outside. You already know that we routinely cover up more world-shattering events than a little office sex. So, what do you say?"
"I... have a boyfriend," Gwen murmured, faintly. She was sure she'd mentioned that. Fairly sure. Hadn't she?
"I know you do. And I have a delicious slice of leftover pizza sitting in the fridge, thanks to you, but I'm going to order out for lunch anyway. Chinese sounds good."
He's just having a laugh, she thought, relieved. She swatted at Jack's shoulder lightly as he continued:
"It doesn't have to be here. I do like offices, but we have that sofa downstairs which would suffice, unless you prefer activities which require a larger surface area." Jack rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Conference table?"
"Oh, don't think so, too hard," Gwen smirked, playing along.
Jack glanced pointedly down at his lap, then back at her, with a naughty grin.
"Oh my God!" Gwen chortled, covering her face with her hands.
"What's wrong? Do I smell funny?"
"Maybe a little," Gwen remarked. She peeked through her fingers, keeping her eyes trained on his hairline. "I've just recently seen you come back to life after being shot in the head. Is it possible you've... gone off?"
"I'm often told I smell good, actually," Jack replied, looking wounded.
Gwen leaned forward and sniffed at his neck, then backed away quickly. "Well, okay, not bad at all. Your scent is very... pleasant, in fact. "
"Well, that's a relief. Shag, then?"
"No!" she giggled.
"You don't find me attractive? Just a bit?" he wheedled.
"Oh, come off it. Now you're just fishing for compliments. You're an... extremely handsome fellow. I'm sure you're more than aware of that," Gwen said.
"Thank you. I find you appealing as well. Stunning, in fact. So, how 'bout that offer? You? Me? Sex?"
Gwen blushed, while she struggled to maintain a straight face. "Thank you, but no thank you. Though I'm... erm, flattered?"
"A kiss, then? Come on, just one?"
Gwen offered a wide smile and shook her head. "Nope. Taken. So I won't be kissing you, either," she said. "Never ever. No way!" Gwen turned to leave, swinging her arms with comic exaggeration as she headed for the door.
"Never say never, Gwen Cooper!" Jack called out.
"Why didn't anyone warn me that he was such a piss-taker?" she addressed the ceiling as she left the office, her laughter fading with her retreat.
Jack sat back in his chair, knitted his fingers together behind his head and spoke to the ceiling as well. Maybe it had the answers.
"Why do the new hires always think I'm joking?"
Author: 51stcenturyfox
Pairing: Jack/Gwen UST, Rhys/Gwen + other pairings suggested
Wordcount: 790
Summary: Gwen's (first) Torchwood proposition. Cracky fluff
Rating: R for language
A/N: Set during Day One, after the team return from the nightclub where Carys nailed her first victim. So to speak.
Gwen perused the coroner's report over Jack's shoulder as he sat as his desk. She wrinkled her brow.
"Now, this bit.." she said as she gestured at the printout, "...is just bloody weird. How did you lot get this, anyway, and so quickly?"
"You lot? Never mind. You'll discover that Torchwood has access to pretty much everything that's officially secret and secretly official." Her brand new boss chucked the report onto the desk, swiveled in his chair and regarded her with a serious look.
"How'd you like to have sex, Gwen Cooper?"
"What?" Gwen's mouth fell open.
"You were just whispering sort of huskily into my ear, not to mention brushing your...bosom against my shoulder, which is, as I'm sure you know, arousing. Were you trying to suggest to me that you'd, as you might say, fancy a shag?"
At the last, Jack switched to a pathetically poor rendition of a London accent. In fact, Gwen thought he sounded something like that Owen bloke, which was rather disconcerting given the context of his words. First impressions, but Owen seemed a bit of a wanker. She couldn't imagine shagging him.
"Well?" Jack raised his eyebrows.
Gwen straightened, leaned back on her heels and stared at Jack, eyes wide. This sort of exchange had certainly never happened between colleagues at the Cardiff Constabulary. To her knowledge. And had Jack Harkness just used the word "bosom"?
"No answer? It's a pretty simple query with two possible replies: 'Do you want to have sex with me?' Yes or No? Tick a box, any box."
"Sir -"
"Gwen, we're very casual here. 'Jack' is fine. Unless you have a kink I'm not aware of. Yet. In that case, by all means, go with 'Sir'. I like that too. It's been done, but..."
Gwen felt a twinge at the back of her brain at that. Hadn't Ianto Jones mentioned something about "sexual harassment"? She struggled to remember. The last few days had been a bit of a blur. Alien gas escaping from a meteorite, a man being screwed to death in a nightclub loo...
"I think... this is what's called sexual harassment," she managed, with a weak smile.
"Oh!" Jack brightened. "Well, we're outside the government. Far, far outside. You already know that we routinely cover up more world-shattering events than a little office sex. So, what do you say?"
"I... have a boyfriend," Gwen murmured, faintly. She was sure she'd mentioned that. Fairly sure. Hadn't she?
"I know you do. And I have a delicious slice of leftover pizza sitting in the fridge, thanks to you, but I'm going to order out for lunch anyway. Chinese sounds good."
He's just having a laugh, she thought, relieved. She swatted at Jack's shoulder lightly as he continued:
"It doesn't have to be here. I do like offices, but we have that sofa downstairs which would suffice, unless you prefer activities which require a larger surface area." Jack rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Conference table?"
"Oh, don't think so, too hard," Gwen smirked, playing along.
Jack glanced pointedly down at his lap, then back at her, with a naughty grin.
"Oh my God!" Gwen chortled, covering her face with her hands.
"What's wrong? Do I smell funny?"
"Maybe a little," Gwen remarked. She peeked through her fingers, keeping her eyes trained on his hairline. "I've just recently seen you come back to life after being shot in the head. Is it possible you've... gone off?"
"I'm often told I smell good, actually," Jack replied, looking wounded.
Gwen leaned forward and sniffed at his neck, then backed away quickly. "Well, okay, not bad at all. Your scent is very... pleasant, in fact. "
"Well, that's a relief. Shag, then?"
"No!" she giggled.
"You don't find me attractive? Just a bit?" he wheedled.
"Oh, come off it. Now you're just fishing for compliments. You're an... extremely handsome fellow. I'm sure you're more than aware of that," Gwen said.
"Thank you. I find you appealing as well. Stunning, in fact. So, how 'bout that offer? You? Me? Sex?"
Gwen blushed, while she struggled to maintain a straight face. "Thank you, but no thank you. Though I'm... erm, flattered?"
"A kiss, then? Come on, just one?"
Gwen offered a wide smile and shook her head. "Nope. Taken. So I won't be kissing you, either," she said. "Never ever. No way!" Gwen turned to leave, swinging her arms with comic exaggeration as she headed for the door.
"Never say never, Gwen Cooper!" Jack called out.
"Why didn't anyone warn me that he was such a piss-taker?" she addressed the ceiling as she left the office, her laughter fading with her retreat.
Jack sat back in his chair, knitted his fingers together behind his head and spoke to the ceiling as well. Maybe it had the answers.
"Why do the new hires always think I'm joking?"