Quiet night out [fic]
Title: Quiet night out
Author: shadowbyrd
Rating: G
Fandom: Torchwood/Harry Potter
Prompt: On a date for jantolution
Word Count: 1118
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Summary: Jack's attempts at light dinner conversation are terrifying.
“- but by then we’d opened the school,” Jack continued, pouring more wine “I’d slain a couple of dragons and, well. If you’re known for your work the way we were there comes a time in your life and you just know that your best days are behind you. Better to quit while you’re ahead.”
Ianto nodded along absently, desperately waiting for common sense to make an appearance. It had vanished from the evening all too suddenly, like a dinner guest that had excused themselves to the toilet only for the next person to pay a visit to find an open window and billowing curtains.
While they’d been preparing for this operation, Owen had suggested they make up personas to use. Ianto had gotten as far as a name (Tim Green), a step which Jack seemed to have skipped over altogether, going straight for the back story and motivation. It was all very interesting, this crap Jack was spouting, but he seemed to be getting a little too into it. It was rather unnerving.
“Really?”
“Oh yeah. Can’t be a legend if you don’t die,” said Jack wisely.
Ianto sniffed at his wine. “I don’t know, Harry Potter seemed to manage alright.” he said, opting to fight fire with fire.
“Well of course; he’s the exception that proves the rule.” said Jack, with a touch too much conviction. “And look at him; he started getting the backlash at fourteen. That’s what happens when you hang around too long, don’t bring anything new to the act.”
“He’d defeated Voldemort three times by then hadn’t he?” asked Ianto
Jack snorted “Yeah, the one time that he was famous for, one time that didn’t get reported because Dumblebore would have lost his job, and as for that last one - figments from the past don’t count.”
“Well of course not.” said Ianto “And his name’s “Dumbledore”.”
“You’d call him Dumblebore too if you’d had to sit through one of his lectures on dragon’s blood.” said Jack rolling his eyes “An excellent work, certainly, but my God the man was an awful speaker back then, even Ravenclaw agreed with me on that.”
“As in Rowena Ravenclaw?” Ianto asked. Wonderful. Not only was Jack pretending to be someone from Harry Potter, he was apparently being a notable character.
Jack coughed. “We don’t call him Rowena anymore.” he said in a low voice.
“Him?” said Ianto, resisting the urge to pour himself more wine.
“Yes, well you see, a while back, when we’d gotten the hang of running the school, Salazar proposed a challenge; that we each try to create a spell that would grant us eternal life. Without a philosopher’s stone - that would have been too simple.” Jack added, waving a hand. “Ravenclaw and Salazar both developed this spell that allows them to regenerate their bodies, change them completely. Anyway, somewhere along the line Rowena changed into a male body, found she was more comfortable like that.”
“Really?” said Ianto “So what do you call her now?”
“Him.” Jack corrected “And he doesn’t really have a name. We just call him the Doctor.”
Ianto stared. “You are kidding me.”
“No.” said Jack with a grin. “Anyway, I managed a spell too. No need to regenerate - because why mess with perfection, right?”
“Right.” said Ianto draining the wine into his glass.
Jack glanced at the empty bottle. “You want some more?” he signalled a passing waiter over “Excuse me, my companion and I would like some more wine.”
The waiter nodded, then did a double take at Jack and reached behind his back.
But not before Jack reached into his pocket and tossed what looked like a coin towards their waiter. The second it hit him, lightning erupted from it, electrocuting him. He dropped to the floor, still twitching, attracting the attention (and horror) of the other diners and waiting staff. Jack stood, raising his hands.
“Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention; this man is under arrest and will be taken into custody momentarily. Please continue with your meals.”
The diners collectively exchanged glances and shrugged, carrying on with one eye on Jack and the waiter who he had slung over his shoulder. When Ianto made to stand, Jack waved at him to sit back down.
“That goes for you too, you finish your wine. That’s the good stuff.”
All very well for him to say, Ianto thought miserably as Jack sashayed out, unconscious pseudo-human comfortably over one shoulder. As soon as he left, attention shifted to Ianto.
He smiled bravely at the nearest table. “Policemen,” he said, rolling his eyes “can’t take them anywhere.”
*
Back at the Hub Owen and Toshiko had had a whale of a time watching the restaurant’s CCTV. After a few hours “interrogation” the waiter, a young Kalahai male gave Jack the equivalent of his parents’ phone number and they collected him within the hour.
“I think next time we could do with coming up with more credible disguises,” said Ianto.
“Hm?” Jack raised an eyebrow.
“Oh, come on,” Ianto said “All that wizarding stuff you were coming out with earlier. J.K. Rowling could probably sue you for that.”
“Authors do have a strange belief that they control the characters that they write about.” Jack mused, sitting back in his chair.
Ianto paused. “What the bloody hell’s that supposed to mean?”
Jack looked innocent.
“Oh, come off it. I’d have to mentally ill to believe that. And my councillor says I’ve made excellent progress with my PTSD these last few months.”
Jack just smiled, halo still in place.
Ianto leant over him, a little annoyed the smirk didn’t go away. “Jack. I’m not going to fall for it. So just forget it.” He turned around, snatching up Jack’s empty cup out of habit and strode calmly to the door.
“Accio.”
Ianto jerked backwards off his feet and somehow dragged through the air, landing rather uncomfortably in Jack’s waiting lap.
“What just -?”
Jack’s smirk was still firmly in place. “I take it you’ve never read Wilde.”
“I don’t -”
Jack pointed at one of the walls. As Ianto turned to look, Jack waved a hand and something seemed to appear out of the wall. It was a sheathed sword, hanging on the wall by the belt. The pommel had rubies the size of eggs. “Give a man a mask and he will tell you the truth. Wise gent, Oscar.”
“Oh, and I suppose you’ve “been there”, have you?” asked Ianto, just managing to restrain himself from rolling his eyes.
Jack had no such restraint. “No, I was studying cross-breeding various breeds of dragons back then. Were you listening at all to what I was saying over dinner?”
Author: shadowbyrd
Rating: G
Fandom: Torchwood/Harry Potter
Prompt: On a date for jantolution
Word Count: 1118
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Summary: Jack's attempts at light dinner conversation are terrifying.
“- but by then we’d opened the school,” Jack continued, pouring more wine “I’d slain a couple of dragons and, well. If you’re known for your work the way we were there comes a time in your life and you just know that your best days are behind you. Better to quit while you’re ahead.”
Ianto nodded along absently, desperately waiting for common sense to make an appearance. It had vanished from the evening all too suddenly, like a dinner guest that had excused themselves to the toilet only for the next person to pay a visit to find an open window and billowing curtains.
While they’d been preparing for this operation, Owen had suggested they make up personas to use. Ianto had gotten as far as a name (Tim Green), a step which Jack seemed to have skipped over altogether, going straight for the back story and motivation. It was all very interesting, this crap Jack was spouting, but he seemed to be getting a little too into it. It was rather unnerving.
“Really?”
“Oh yeah. Can’t be a legend if you don’t die,” said Jack wisely.
Ianto sniffed at his wine. “I don’t know, Harry Potter seemed to manage alright.” he said, opting to fight fire with fire.
“Well of course; he’s the exception that proves the rule.” said Jack, with a touch too much conviction. “And look at him; he started getting the backlash at fourteen. That’s what happens when you hang around too long, don’t bring anything new to the act.”
“He’d defeated Voldemort three times by then hadn’t he?” asked Ianto
Jack snorted “Yeah, the one time that he was famous for, one time that didn’t get reported because Dumblebore would have lost his job, and as for that last one - figments from the past don’t count.”
“Well of course not.” said Ianto “And his name’s “Dumbledore”.”
“You’d call him Dumblebore too if you’d had to sit through one of his lectures on dragon’s blood.” said Jack rolling his eyes “An excellent work, certainly, but my God the man was an awful speaker back then, even Ravenclaw agreed with me on that.”
“As in Rowena Ravenclaw?” Ianto asked. Wonderful. Not only was Jack pretending to be someone from Harry Potter, he was apparently being a notable character.
Jack coughed. “We don’t call him Rowena anymore.” he said in a low voice.
“Him?” said Ianto, resisting the urge to pour himself more wine.
“Yes, well you see, a while back, when we’d gotten the hang of running the school, Salazar proposed a challenge; that we each try to create a spell that would grant us eternal life. Without a philosopher’s stone - that would have been too simple.” Jack added, waving a hand. “Ravenclaw and Salazar both developed this spell that allows them to regenerate their bodies, change them completely. Anyway, somewhere along the line Rowena changed into a male body, found she was more comfortable like that.”
“Really?” said Ianto “So what do you call her now?”
“Him.” Jack corrected “And he doesn’t really have a name. We just call him the Doctor.”
Ianto stared. “You are kidding me.”
“No.” said Jack with a grin. “Anyway, I managed a spell too. No need to regenerate - because why mess with perfection, right?”
“Right.” said Ianto draining the wine into his glass.
Jack glanced at the empty bottle. “You want some more?” he signalled a passing waiter over “Excuse me, my companion and I would like some more wine.”
The waiter nodded, then did a double take at Jack and reached behind his back.
But not before Jack reached into his pocket and tossed what looked like a coin towards their waiter. The second it hit him, lightning erupted from it, electrocuting him. He dropped to the floor, still twitching, attracting the attention (and horror) of the other diners and waiting staff. Jack stood, raising his hands.
“Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention; this man is under arrest and will be taken into custody momentarily. Please continue with your meals.”
The diners collectively exchanged glances and shrugged, carrying on with one eye on Jack and the waiter who he had slung over his shoulder. When Ianto made to stand, Jack waved at him to sit back down.
“That goes for you too, you finish your wine. That’s the good stuff.”
All very well for him to say, Ianto thought miserably as Jack sashayed out, unconscious pseudo-human comfortably over one shoulder. As soon as he left, attention shifted to Ianto.
He smiled bravely at the nearest table. “Policemen,” he said, rolling his eyes “can’t take them anywhere.”
*
Back at the Hub Owen and Toshiko had had a whale of a time watching the restaurant’s CCTV. After a few hours “interrogation” the waiter, a young Kalahai male gave Jack the equivalent of his parents’ phone number and they collected him within the hour.
“I think next time we could do with coming up with more credible disguises,” said Ianto.
“Hm?” Jack raised an eyebrow.
“Oh, come on,” Ianto said “All that wizarding stuff you were coming out with earlier. J.K. Rowling could probably sue you for that.”
“Authors do have a strange belief that they control the characters that they write about.” Jack mused, sitting back in his chair.
Ianto paused. “What the bloody hell’s that supposed to mean?”
Jack looked innocent.
“Oh, come off it. I’d have to mentally ill to believe that. And my councillor says I’ve made excellent progress with my PTSD these last few months.”
Jack just smiled, halo still in place.
Ianto leant over him, a little annoyed the smirk didn’t go away. “Jack. I’m not going to fall for it. So just forget it.” He turned around, snatching up Jack’s empty cup out of habit and strode calmly to the door.
“Accio.”
Ianto jerked backwards off his feet and somehow dragged through the air, landing rather uncomfortably in Jack’s waiting lap.
“What just -?”
Jack’s smirk was still firmly in place. “I take it you’ve never read Wilde.”
“I don’t -”
Jack pointed at one of the walls. As Ianto turned to look, Jack waved a hand and something seemed to appear out of the wall. It was a sheathed sword, hanging on the wall by the belt. The pommel had rubies the size of eggs. “Give a man a mask and he will tell you the truth. Wise gent, Oscar.”
“Oh, and I suppose you’ve “been there”, have you?” asked Ianto, just managing to restrain himself from rolling his eyes.
Jack had no such restraint. “No, I was studying cross-breeding various breeds of dragons back then. Were you listening at all to what I was saying over dinner?”