Add A Little Spice
Title: Add A Little Spice
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack/John before they were Jack and John
Summary Some people are just drawn to trouble. And chickens. And, as rescues go, this one sucked.
Words: 545
Rating: 15
Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Torchwood
Spoilers:None
AN: Written for torchwood_fest. Prompt was: Jack/John Hart, back when they were still time agents, one of them gets into some trouble on a planet because they break a rule they weren't aware of. This was stupidly troublesome for such a little fic, so huge thanks to the ever-wonderful beta brilliance of emyrldlady who helped beat me and it into shape.
Identical doors to two small cells clunked shut and sealed with a soft metallic “schnick”. The first cell held a man with blue eyes that danced with mischief, and cheekbones lesser mortals would kill for. He regarded his cell door with an amused pout.
In the mirror-image cell next to him a pissed off expression was forming on the face of a taller, broader man, with the type of handsome good looks that could talk him into anyone. As the footsteps belonging to the guards that had brought them here faded down the corridor he finally spoke.
“Well. Well done. Again.”
“Well how I supposed to know it was illegal here?”
“Common decency would give you a clue.”
There was a beat and then both men burst into hearty peals of laughter.
Finally sobering the shorter man sat down on a hard bench and began sorting through the various weapons and pieces of tech that he had managed to keep hidden when he was searched.
“Seriously though, I am sorry.”
“You’re always sorry,” said the other man, as he moved around, examining the walls surrounding him. “Where did you get that chicken from anyway?”
“The chicken wasn’t the problem. It was getting that much bubble wrap at short notice that was difficult.”
“But, the Emperor’s daughter; sorry, virgin daughter! What were you thinking?”
“I was thinking that you were already with the Emperor’s son.”
The dark haired man smiled; “Oh yeah... But I was smart enough not to get gardening equipment involved.”
The smaller man pulled a face that he knew couldn’t be seen but made him feel better as his counterpart continued talking.
“I don’t think much of the hospitality here. These cells aren’t exactly roomy.”
“Well they’ll be coming to take us for our execution any minute so we won’t have to worry about it for too long.”
“That’s true. So how are you getting us out of this?”
“Why me?”
“Because you are the brains of this outfit whereas I am clearly the beauty and because if I hadn’t decided to defend your arse and come to your rescue, in quite a dashing and romantic way if I do say so myself, when you got arrested, I wouldn’t be here now.”
The other man snorted, “You call this a rescue?”
“Okay, maybe not one of my best. I did look dashing though didn’t I?”
The smaller man rolled his eyes but allowed himself a grin; “I admit the swinging on the chandelier was quite dashing. But I didn’t think much of the dismount.”
“You’ve never complained about my dismount before.”
“That’s because…” the other man’s retort was cut off by the sound of footsteps echoing in the corridor.
“I’d hurry up with that plan if I were you. I could still be with a very eager to please young Emperor-in-waiting.”
“Actually I already have a plan. Remember the Alpha Two job?”
The dark haired man gave a broad grin. “Oh yeah.”
“Add a little spice to that.”
With that the two men both stood to face their respective cell doors, one with a wide legged stance, broad hands planted firmly on hips, the other with fingers hooked through belt loops, accentuating his cocky posture, as they waited for the fun to start.
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack/John before they were Jack and John
Summary Some people are just drawn to trouble. And chickens. And, as rescues go, this one sucked.
Words: 545
Rating: 15
Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Torchwood
Spoilers:None
AN: Written for torchwood_fest. Prompt was: Jack/John Hart, back when they were still time agents, one of them gets into some trouble on a planet because they break a rule they weren't aware of. This was stupidly troublesome for such a little fic, so huge thanks to the ever-wonderful beta brilliance of emyrldlady who helped beat me and it into shape.
Identical doors to two small cells clunked shut and sealed with a soft metallic “schnick”. The first cell held a man with blue eyes that danced with mischief, and cheekbones lesser mortals would kill for. He regarded his cell door with an amused pout.
In the mirror-image cell next to him a pissed off expression was forming on the face of a taller, broader man, with the type of handsome good looks that could talk him into anyone. As the footsteps belonging to the guards that had brought them here faded down the corridor he finally spoke.
“Well. Well done. Again.”
“Well how I supposed to know it was illegal here?”
“Common decency would give you a clue.”
There was a beat and then both men burst into hearty peals of laughter.
Finally sobering the shorter man sat down on a hard bench and began sorting through the various weapons and pieces of tech that he had managed to keep hidden when he was searched.
“Seriously though, I am sorry.”
“You’re always sorry,” said the other man, as he moved around, examining the walls surrounding him. “Where did you get that chicken from anyway?”
“The chicken wasn’t the problem. It was getting that much bubble wrap at short notice that was difficult.”
“But, the Emperor’s daughter; sorry, virgin daughter! What were you thinking?”
“I was thinking that you were already with the Emperor’s son.”
The dark haired man smiled; “Oh yeah... But I was smart enough not to get gardening equipment involved.”
The smaller man pulled a face that he knew couldn’t be seen but made him feel better as his counterpart continued talking.
“I don’t think much of the hospitality here. These cells aren’t exactly roomy.”
“Well they’ll be coming to take us for our execution any minute so we won’t have to worry about it for too long.”
“That’s true. So how are you getting us out of this?”
“Why me?”
“Because you are the brains of this outfit whereas I am clearly the beauty and because if I hadn’t decided to defend your arse and come to your rescue, in quite a dashing and romantic way if I do say so myself, when you got arrested, I wouldn’t be here now.”
The other man snorted, “You call this a rescue?”
“Okay, maybe not one of my best. I did look dashing though didn’t I?”
The smaller man rolled his eyes but allowed himself a grin; “I admit the swinging on the chandelier was quite dashing. But I didn’t think much of the dismount.”
“You’ve never complained about my dismount before.”
“That’s because…” the other man’s retort was cut off by the sound of footsteps echoing in the corridor.
“I’d hurry up with that plan if I were you. I could still be with a very eager to please young Emperor-in-waiting.”
“Actually I already have a plan. Remember the Alpha Two job?”
The dark haired man gave a broad grin. “Oh yeah.”
“Add a little spice to that.”
With that the two men both stood to face their respective cell doors, one with a wide legged stance, broad hands planted firmly on hips, the other with fingers hooked through belt loops, accentuating his cocky posture, as they waited for the fun to start.