TW fic: "Fantastically Drunk" (PG, post S2, Jack/Ianto/Gwen, 635 words)
Title: Fantastically Drunk
Rating: PG
Setting: Post S2; implicit spoilers
Pairings: very very mild Jack/Ianto/Gwen
Word Count: 635
Series: The Alcohol Annals
Summary: Gwen is one of those happy drunks.
Teaser: Ianto looked very handsome with orange strokes of sunset slathered on his nose and cheeks, although that might not have been on purpose, or even very helpful. Jack appreciated it anyway. Gwen appreciated Jack's coat buttons, and rubbed them with the tips of her fingers.
Fantastically Drunk
Gwen was fantastically drunk. She giggled and rubbed her cheek against Jack's coat-front as he tried to keep her upright. Ianto helpfully folded Gwen's jacket over his arm. He also looked very handsome with orange strokes of sunset slathered on his nose and cheeks, although that might not have been on purpose, or even very helpful. Jack appreciated it anyway. Gwen appreciated Jack's coat buttons, and rubbed them with the tips of her fingers.
"We'll simply explain to Rhys that it was an accident," Ianto said in that bright tone of voice that indicated that no, it was not a viable idea, but a niggling sense of optimism demanded that he suggest it anyway.
"Oh, sure," said Jack distractedly. "Gwen, honey, I need you to at least try to support your own weight."
"Yes," Gwen said carefully. "Yes," she said again, brows crinkling together with intense concentration. She drew herself up, pressing her palm lightly against Jack's belly for support, and then fell over.
Jack roped his arms around her waist before she completely toppled over, spent a few useless moments trying to steady her, then admitted defeat and simply picked her up. "So much for that idea," he muttered. He turned back to Ianto. "That'll go over real well. 'Say, Rhys, sorry that your wife is puking on your couch, but you see, we ran into this alien that was basically a blob of vodka and it sort of exploded when she shot it.'" Jack shook his head, shifting Gwen around (she would keep wriggling.) "Maybe if Gwen didn't spend so much time with her mouth gaping open, this wouldn't have happened," he muttered.
Ianto put a hand on Jack's elbow to guide him around the most slippery bits of pavement as they headed for the SUV. "She could have absorbed it through her skin," he said charitably. "Like a frog."
"Well!" said Jack. He wrinkled his nose as a particularly acrid whiff of exploded-vodka-blob assaulted his nose. "When you put it that way, I'm sure he'll understand."
Gwen clutched the back of Jack's neck, her hair flailing out behind her. "Rhys is-" she paused to give a lady-like burp. "-very understanding. You've swept me off my feet," she added to Jack, and giggled. She kicked her feet too, just to demonstrate.
Ianto darted forward to catch her left green Converse (blotched dark with vodka-slime) as it flew off. "Shall I keep ahold of this for you?" he asked Gwen.
Gwen's eyes glistened with grateful tears. "You're so chival-shi-" The rest of the word slurred into oblivion. She reached out to pat the side of Ianto's neck (she may have been aiming for his shoulder, or possibly his cheek.) "I love you," she said seriously.
Ianto smiled and removed her hand, kissing the back of it. "Merely doing my duty," he said, and winked.
"Ooooh," said Gwen, and tried to wink back as he tucked her hand securely next to her belly. The wink was slow and seemed confused as to which eye was supposed to be performing the gesture, but the point got across nonetheless. She lolled her head back to look at Jack. "I love you too," she said. "You're so dashing."
Jack grinned. "Everybody loves everybody," he said, and clasped her a little closer. "We're going to take you home to Rhys," he said, leaning down to murmur in her ear. "You love Rhys, don't you?"
"Yes," Gwen said emphatically. Her face lit up with a slow, sloppy smile. "He's got such nice eyes."
Jack exchanged an amused glance with Ianto and brushed his lips against Gwen's brow. "Everything's going to be fine," he said, almost to himself. "We're going to take good care of you."
"I know," mumbled Gwen, and laid her head against his chest.
.
Rating: PG
Setting: Post S2; implicit spoilers
Pairings: very very mild Jack/Ianto/Gwen
Word Count: 635
Series: The Alcohol Annals
Summary: Gwen is one of those happy drunks.
Teaser: Ianto looked very handsome with orange strokes of sunset slathered on his nose and cheeks, although that might not have been on purpose, or even very helpful. Jack appreciated it anyway. Gwen appreciated Jack's coat buttons, and rubbed them with the tips of her fingers.
Fantastically Drunk
Gwen was fantastically drunk. She giggled and rubbed her cheek against Jack's coat-front as he tried to keep her upright. Ianto helpfully folded Gwen's jacket over his arm. He also looked very handsome with orange strokes of sunset slathered on his nose and cheeks, although that might not have been on purpose, or even very helpful. Jack appreciated it anyway. Gwen appreciated Jack's coat buttons, and rubbed them with the tips of her fingers.
"We'll simply explain to Rhys that it was an accident," Ianto said in that bright tone of voice that indicated that no, it was not a viable idea, but a niggling sense of optimism demanded that he suggest it anyway.
"Oh, sure," said Jack distractedly. "Gwen, honey, I need you to at least try to support your own weight."
"Yes," Gwen said carefully. "Yes," she said again, brows crinkling together with intense concentration. She drew herself up, pressing her palm lightly against Jack's belly for support, and then fell over.
Jack roped his arms around her waist before she completely toppled over, spent a few useless moments trying to steady her, then admitted defeat and simply picked her up. "So much for that idea," he muttered. He turned back to Ianto. "That'll go over real well. 'Say, Rhys, sorry that your wife is puking on your couch, but you see, we ran into this alien that was basically a blob of vodka and it sort of exploded when she shot it.'" Jack shook his head, shifting Gwen around (she would keep wriggling.) "Maybe if Gwen didn't spend so much time with her mouth gaping open, this wouldn't have happened," he muttered.
Ianto put a hand on Jack's elbow to guide him around the most slippery bits of pavement as they headed for the SUV. "She could have absorbed it through her skin," he said charitably. "Like a frog."
"Well!" said Jack. He wrinkled his nose as a particularly acrid whiff of exploded-vodka-blob assaulted his nose. "When you put it that way, I'm sure he'll understand."
Gwen clutched the back of Jack's neck, her hair flailing out behind her. "Rhys is-" she paused to give a lady-like burp. "-very understanding. You've swept me off my feet," she added to Jack, and giggled. She kicked her feet too, just to demonstrate.
Ianto darted forward to catch her left green Converse (blotched dark with vodka-slime) as it flew off. "Shall I keep ahold of this for you?" he asked Gwen.
Gwen's eyes glistened with grateful tears. "You're so chival-shi-" The rest of the word slurred into oblivion. She reached out to pat the side of Ianto's neck (she may have been aiming for his shoulder, or possibly his cheek.) "I love you," she said seriously.
Ianto smiled and removed her hand, kissing the back of it. "Merely doing my duty," he said, and winked.
"Ooooh," said Gwen, and tried to wink back as he tucked her hand securely next to her belly. The wink was slow and seemed confused as to which eye was supposed to be performing the gesture, but the point got across nonetheless. She lolled her head back to look at Jack. "I love you too," she said. "You're so dashing."
Jack grinned. "Everybody loves everybody," he said, and clasped her a little closer. "We're going to take you home to Rhys," he said, leaning down to murmur in her ear. "You love Rhys, don't you?"
"Yes," Gwen said emphatically. Her face lit up with a slow, sloppy smile. "He's got such nice eyes."
Jack exchanged an amused glance with Ianto and brushed his lips against Gwen's brow. "Everything's going to be fine," he said, almost to himself. "We're going to take good care of you."
"I know," mumbled Gwen, and laid her head against his chest.
.