When Team Angel visits Team Torchwood
This is for strangecreature's birthday.
Little Minions grow big. ::Tear::
Anyway, FG wrote fic. Of course FG's muse is totally dead and she wrote this at work so... Prepare for the worst.
They're drabbelish. We love drabbles don't we? No plot, no timeline, no rating, no beta! ::gasp::. Just Wesley, Ianto, Angel, Jack, Gwen, Cordy, Tosh, Gunn and Owen. Oh and a pterodactyl.
Suit
“Just look at him,” Cordelia said, pointing none to subtly at Ianto. “He looks *Great * in that suit!” She glanced at Wesley when she said this.
Pressing his lips into a thin line, Wesley scowled at Cordelia. “Your point, Cordelia?” he muttered. He didn't think Ianto - as much as he liked the man - looked all that dapper in those suits. Just-- far to overdressed for the work he did. And if he mentally put a 'so there' after that line of thought he wasn't going to admit it to anyone. Not even himself.
“So?” Cordelia mimicked Wesley's voice, including his accent which made him cringe. “Come one, Wes,” Cordy was ruthless, “We fight crime and demons and slime and shit on a daily basis. I still manage to look totally hot. Angel looks cool in his dark mysterious 'I'm to sexy for my brood' kinda way. Even Gunn can pull off the 'I'm to street and cool to worry about fashion and still look good' clothes. And then there's you.”
She gave him a once over, which made Wesley narrow his eyes dangerously, and wrinkled her nose. “God! Wesley, don't you have *anything * that doesn't scream 'Look at me! I'm totally gay!'? Why can't you wear a suit?”
“I wore suits!” Wesley said indignant, “you said I wasn't allowed to wear them anymore.”
“You looked like a coffee-field owner!” Cordelia rolled her eyes. “Besides, they were tweed, Wesley. Who in the hell wears tweed?”
Wesley just scowled and let a long suffering huff of the eternally insulted.
Myfanwy
Gwen realised that she should’ve listened to the meek guy with the glasses when he told her ‘Don’t tell Gunn its name’.
“Myfanny? What the fuck kinda name is Myfanny?”
“Myfanwy,” Gwen said with the patience of someone who’d said it far too many times.
Gunn looked unconvinced as he stared up at the ceiling at the hub with a sense of awe at the Pterodactyl flying around there. “It’s a stupid name,” he declared.
Gwen scowled. “I suppose you woulda called it Tiger or Jaws or something equally macho,” she groused.
Quirking an eyebrow Gunn snorted. “It’s gotta beak, why would *anyone * call it Jaws. Seriously.” He tilted his head to the side and looked at the magnificent creature floating around. “I woulda called it Thunder Ptero! Yeah,” he declared and glanced at Gwen with a smug look.
Gwen sighted. Yeah, next time she was gonna listen to the skinny guy with the glasses.
Foliage
“It’s rather dramatic isn’t it?” Wesley said as he looked at the plant hissing and spitting in their direction.
“Tragic almost,” Ianto agreed, tilting his head to the side, blinking when said plant - tulip really - spat at him next.
Weevil hunting turned out very different each time Team Angel went out with anyone from Team Torchwood. But for some reason when Ianto Jones paired up with Wesley Wyndam-Pryce they ran into the *weirdest * things.
Such as, quite possibly, a demonic (or alien, the end of that argument wasn’t even close to near) tulip.
“Does it have a name you reckon?” Ianto asked, since Wesley seemed to be even more an encyclopaedia on legs then he. Which had bothered him at first but-he coped.
“Can’t say I’ve ever seen, heard or read anything of this sort,” Wesley said, taking an involuntary step back when the foliage seemed to work itself into a hissy fit. Complete with trembling leaves and petals. “Any suggestions?”
“Ianto!”
Both men looked up at the anguished cry to see Captain Jack Harknes barrelling toward them, coattails flapping dramatically after him.
“I was thinking-- Tulip de Harknes,” Ianto said dryly.
Wesley nodded his approval and sighed when he noticed Angel stomping after Jack with a brooding look on his face, coat bellowing after him. “Wesley!” he cried out, trying to overtake Jack in their haste to get to their respective partners.
“Tulip de Harknes it is,” Wesley muttered while both he and Ianto waited with the resignation of men who have done this hundreds of times before. He shrugged when Ianto looked at him and said, “Why do you think there is a multitude of Angel foliage?” he shrugged, nodding his head toward the vampire.
Stupid.
“You did what?” Wesley pulled his glasses off and started to polish them ferociously.
Angel, par de course, looked at him in complete confusion. “What?” he had the audacity to ask.
“You didn’t?” Wesley muttered, planting his glasses back on his nose to glare at his-manpire. “You did. For goodness sake, Angel! Have you lost your mind?”
“What?!” Angel wanted to know, now looking completely lost. “What did I do? Did I put my feet on the table? Did I leave a mug of blood around for Ianto to find, what?”
Gunn watched with fascination as Wesley took a deep breath and counted to ten. In several languages the street fighter suspected. He admired the English man’s patience but he was starting to get curious now what his vampire boss had done now.
“You realize, Angel,” Wesley sighed, “that we still have to go *back * to Los Angeles?”
Angel still looked confused. Wesley narrowed his eyes dangerously. “I can’t believe you did that. You cannot be that dense.”
Gunn’s curiosity got the better of him. “What he do now?” he asked, blinking when Wesley looked at him with the eyes of a man who lost all hope.
“Gwen and Toshiko took Cordelia to London for the weekend,” he sighed.
So? Gunn thought and then voiced this. “So?”
“Angel gave her the company credit card,” Wesley said after several seconds of ominous silence.
Gunn’s eyes widened as he looked at Angel, casting around for several things to say before settling on “Shit, you’re a dumfuck.”
Twins
“It’s the coat.”
Cordelia stood on the fist level of the Hub looking down at Angel and Jack while they, as she had dubbed it, ‘pawed the ground with testosterone’.
Gwen and Tosh both stood on either side, mug of coffee in their hands - and Cordelia was *so* gonna kidnap Ianto Jones just for the coffee alone - looking at their respective bosses.
“And the brooding,” Gwen added after a moment. She sipped her coffee and leaned on the banister.
“On the roof,” Tosh agreed.
“Huh,” Cordelia snorted. “He does that too? Seriously? Weird.”
“It’s sexy,” a male voice said from behind them. Somewhere to the left. The girls jumped guilty and glanced at Ianto who stood there with Wesley. Both men were not looking at the girls, however, but at Angel and Jack who were now involved in an intense glaring contest.
“Very sexy,” Wesley agreed with a soft murmur.
They stared at the immortals for a moment longer - the girls suspected they were checking out their asses more likely then anything else - before they both visibly shook themselves and scurried away.
“I say we step up this DNA thingy,” Cordelia said after a moment.
“They gotta be related,” Gwen agreed.
“Who?” Tosh asked, scowling at her now empty mug of coffee, “Wes and Ianto or Jack and Angel?”
“Both, fourth, erm, whatever,” Cordelia decided after a moment’s consideration.
Fine
“Sit the fuck down, teaboy!” Owen scowled at his collegue, followed by a glower which had Ianto sinking down on the stainless steel table with a sigh.
“I’m fine,” he declared, ruefully fingering the tear in his shirt. The blood stains so were never gonna come out, the shirt was a lost cause. Shame, Jack had really liked this shirt. Red and all.
“And just when the fuck did you get your medical degree?” Owen wanted to know and then pointed a finger, “Oi! Where’dfuck you think you’re going, Pryce? Sit down!”
“Really doctor Harper,” Wesley tried, squaring his shoulders, “I’m fine.”
Own threw up his hands in expiration. “For the last fucking time!” he all but yelled, “*I* will be the damn judge of that! What is *wrong* with you two, Jesus holy fuck.”
Ianto and Wesley looked at each other before shrugging. This, in retrospect, was a stupid thing to do, since they both winced at the movement.
“Really, Owen, I’m fine,” Ianto tried again.
Owen just looked at him and then viciously pressed his thumb into the wound. Ianto went pale, gasped and the glared at Owen. “What the hell did you do that for?!”
“Makin’ a point,” Owen said and *looked* at Wesley. “Get up again and I’m gonna make a fuckin’ point with you too!”
Wesley meekly sat down and shared a look with Ianto.
“Okay, here’s the deal tossers,” Owen ranted on, getting various gauges, needles and threads from god only knew where. Wesley was rather certain he didn’t *want* to know from where. “Since I’m the one with the fuckin’ doctor degree here, I get to say who’s fine or not. The next one of you who’s gonna say he’s fine is gonna find himself on the receiving end of an overprotective boyfriend! Got it?”
He glared at Ianto, then at Wesley and was satisfied with the brief flare of panic in their eyes. Then they nodded, sat down and let the good doctor do whatever he wanted. Well, almost whatever he wanted.
Later Cordelia cornered Owen and point blank asked mister smug just how he got Wesley stop saying ‘he was fine’. Cause she’d been trying for years.
Owen just looked, if that was even possible, more smug and for the first time in his *life* said, “Patient doctor confidentiality.”
Clever
“Where’s Wesley?” Angel asked, glaring at Jack just out of principle.
Jack barely noticed or pretended not to notice anyway and shrugged. “Ianto took him down into the archives to show him some stuff.”
Angel seemed to consider this - no doubt going through all the dangers Wesley *might* get into in the archives - and nodded when finding none.
“Oh yeah, that’s a really good idea,” Cordelia snorted as she passed them both, the heels of her new Gucci’s clunking on the metal floor of the Hub.
“What?” Jack asked, giving her a confused frown before the dazzling smile - which seemed to have no effect on Cordelia for some disturbing reason - returned.
“Let the guy who’s salivating at the sight of alien artefacts take the guy who has an orgasm if he so much as passes a *bookstore* ‘show the archives’,” she stretched the last words and even raised her hands to use the ‘air quotes’.
One point two seconds, Cordelia timed, before both Jack and Angel looked at each other horrified and hurried down the Hub’s basement.
Growl
“So hi there handsome, come here often?” Captain Jack Harknes slid up next to Wesley and gave him the trademark Harknes grin.
For all of one second before a low, vicious growl made him take two steps back. Confused he looked around, a frown forming on his face and the smile slowly fading away.
Ianto looked at the scene from above with amusement as the Englishman reached out and fondly patted the vampire on his arm before returning to the text he was reading. As though nothing had just happened.
“What was that?” Jack wanted to know, turning around and looking startled when noticed Angel glowering at him.
“Mine,” growled Angel.
Jack held his hands up and quickly backed away. Man, but the vampire was territorial. Geeze.
Ianto sipped his coffee and made a mental note to ask Wesley later how he'd trained Angel to do that. Cause wow, that was hot. He *so * was gonna train Jack to do that too.
Shiver down his spine. Totally.
Bragging
“Ianto is a master at making coffee.”
“Wesley drinks tea, like a proper Englishman.”
“You're Irish!”
“So?”
“Ianto is really cute.”
“Wesley's cuter.”
“I am *not* cute, Angel!”
“Ianto has several university degrees.”
"Sir...?"
“Wesley was a Watcher.”
“Ianto's a phenomenal shag.”
“Sir!”
“Don't you dare, Angel.”
“And he knows about five different languages.”
“Wes knows twenty-five...”
“--twenty-six.”
“...and about a hundred demonic--”
“--Alien.”
“... and dead languages too.”
“Why would anyone want to learn a dead language?”
“Same reason someone goes wild over a knife to kill extinct demons.”
“Aliens.“
“You're just mad because I compared your brownies to bricks.”
“Ianto knows---”
“Oh for fucks sake! D'you want me to go down the autopsy bay and get out the measuring tape? Just so we can make sure?”
“I'd win. Measuring tapes don't lie.”
“Are you alright, Ianto? Coffee go down the wrong way?”
“This is getting really disturbing. And I hunt demons for a living. I was cool before I met y'all.”
“If we're gonna measure who *is* the biggest dick it's gonna be a tie.”
“Hey!”
“Hey!”
“He's not even really a captain.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“......”
“Well you got stupid hair!”
Little Minions grow big. ::Tear::
Anyway, FG wrote fic. Of course FG's muse is totally dead and she wrote this at work so... Prepare for the worst.
They're drabbelish. We love drabbles don't we? No plot, no timeline, no rating, no beta! ::gasp::. Just Wesley, Ianto, Angel, Jack, Gwen, Cordy, Tosh, Gunn and Owen. Oh and a pterodactyl.
Suit
“Just look at him,” Cordelia said, pointing none to subtly at Ianto. “He looks *Great * in that suit!” She glanced at Wesley when she said this.
Pressing his lips into a thin line, Wesley scowled at Cordelia. “Your point, Cordelia?” he muttered. He didn't think Ianto - as much as he liked the man - looked all that dapper in those suits. Just-- far to overdressed for the work he did. And if he mentally put a 'so there' after that line of thought he wasn't going to admit it to anyone. Not even himself.
“So?” Cordelia mimicked Wesley's voice, including his accent which made him cringe. “Come one, Wes,” Cordy was ruthless, “We fight crime and demons and slime and shit on a daily basis. I still manage to look totally hot. Angel looks cool in his dark mysterious 'I'm to sexy for my brood' kinda way. Even Gunn can pull off the 'I'm to street and cool to worry about fashion and still look good' clothes. And then there's you.”
She gave him a once over, which made Wesley narrow his eyes dangerously, and wrinkled her nose. “God! Wesley, don't you have *anything * that doesn't scream 'Look at me! I'm totally gay!'? Why can't you wear a suit?”
“I wore suits!” Wesley said indignant, “you said I wasn't allowed to wear them anymore.”
“You looked like a coffee-field owner!” Cordelia rolled her eyes. “Besides, they were tweed, Wesley. Who in the hell wears tweed?”
Wesley just scowled and let a long suffering huff of the eternally insulted.
Myfanwy
Gwen realised that she should’ve listened to the meek guy with the glasses when he told her ‘Don’t tell Gunn its name’.
“Myfanny? What the fuck kinda name is Myfanny?”
“Myfanwy,” Gwen said with the patience of someone who’d said it far too many times.
Gunn looked unconvinced as he stared up at the ceiling at the hub with a sense of awe at the Pterodactyl flying around there. “It’s a stupid name,” he declared.
Gwen scowled. “I suppose you woulda called it Tiger or Jaws or something equally macho,” she groused.
Quirking an eyebrow Gunn snorted. “It’s gotta beak, why would *anyone * call it Jaws. Seriously.” He tilted his head to the side and looked at the magnificent creature floating around. “I woulda called it Thunder Ptero! Yeah,” he declared and glanced at Gwen with a smug look.
Gwen sighted. Yeah, next time she was gonna listen to the skinny guy with the glasses.
Foliage
“It’s rather dramatic isn’t it?” Wesley said as he looked at the plant hissing and spitting in their direction.
“Tragic almost,” Ianto agreed, tilting his head to the side, blinking when said plant - tulip really - spat at him next.
Weevil hunting turned out very different each time Team Angel went out with anyone from Team Torchwood. But for some reason when Ianto Jones paired up with Wesley Wyndam-Pryce they ran into the *weirdest * things.
Such as, quite possibly, a demonic (or alien, the end of that argument wasn’t even close to near) tulip.
“Does it have a name you reckon?” Ianto asked, since Wesley seemed to be even more an encyclopaedia on legs then he. Which had bothered him at first but-he coped.
“Can’t say I’ve ever seen, heard or read anything of this sort,” Wesley said, taking an involuntary step back when the foliage seemed to work itself into a hissy fit. Complete with trembling leaves and petals. “Any suggestions?”
“Ianto!”
Both men looked up at the anguished cry to see Captain Jack Harknes barrelling toward them, coattails flapping dramatically after him.
“I was thinking-- Tulip de Harknes,” Ianto said dryly.
Wesley nodded his approval and sighed when he noticed Angel stomping after Jack with a brooding look on his face, coat bellowing after him. “Wesley!” he cried out, trying to overtake Jack in their haste to get to their respective partners.
“Tulip de Harknes it is,” Wesley muttered while both he and Ianto waited with the resignation of men who have done this hundreds of times before. He shrugged when Ianto looked at him and said, “Why do you think there is a multitude of Angel foliage?” he shrugged, nodding his head toward the vampire.
Stupid.
“You did what?” Wesley pulled his glasses off and started to polish them ferociously.
Angel, par de course, looked at him in complete confusion. “What?” he had the audacity to ask.
“You didn’t?” Wesley muttered, planting his glasses back on his nose to glare at his-manpire. “You did. For goodness sake, Angel! Have you lost your mind?”
“What?!” Angel wanted to know, now looking completely lost. “What did I do? Did I put my feet on the table? Did I leave a mug of blood around for Ianto to find, what?”
Gunn watched with fascination as Wesley took a deep breath and counted to ten. In several languages the street fighter suspected. He admired the English man’s patience but he was starting to get curious now what his vampire boss had done now.
“You realize, Angel,” Wesley sighed, “that we still have to go *back * to Los Angeles?”
Angel still looked confused. Wesley narrowed his eyes dangerously. “I can’t believe you did that. You cannot be that dense.”
Gunn’s curiosity got the better of him. “What he do now?” he asked, blinking when Wesley looked at him with the eyes of a man who lost all hope.
“Gwen and Toshiko took Cordelia to London for the weekend,” he sighed.
So? Gunn thought and then voiced this. “So?”
“Angel gave her the company credit card,” Wesley said after several seconds of ominous silence.
Gunn’s eyes widened as he looked at Angel, casting around for several things to say before settling on “Shit, you’re a dumfuck.”
Twins
“It’s the coat.”
Cordelia stood on the fist level of the Hub looking down at Angel and Jack while they, as she had dubbed it, ‘pawed the ground with testosterone’.
Gwen and Tosh both stood on either side, mug of coffee in their hands - and Cordelia was *so* gonna kidnap Ianto Jones just for the coffee alone - looking at their respective bosses.
“And the brooding,” Gwen added after a moment. She sipped her coffee and leaned on the banister.
“On the roof,” Tosh agreed.
“Huh,” Cordelia snorted. “He does that too? Seriously? Weird.”
“It’s sexy,” a male voice said from behind them. Somewhere to the left. The girls jumped guilty and glanced at Ianto who stood there with Wesley. Both men were not looking at the girls, however, but at Angel and Jack who were now involved in an intense glaring contest.
“Very sexy,” Wesley agreed with a soft murmur.
They stared at the immortals for a moment longer - the girls suspected they were checking out their asses more likely then anything else - before they both visibly shook themselves and scurried away.
“I say we step up this DNA thingy,” Cordelia said after a moment.
“They gotta be related,” Gwen agreed.
“Who?” Tosh asked, scowling at her now empty mug of coffee, “Wes and Ianto or Jack and Angel?”
“Both, fourth, erm, whatever,” Cordelia decided after a moment’s consideration.
Fine
“Sit the fuck down, teaboy!” Owen scowled at his collegue, followed by a glower which had Ianto sinking down on the stainless steel table with a sigh.
“I’m fine,” he declared, ruefully fingering the tear in his shirt. The blood stains so were never gonna come out, the shirt was a lost cause. Shame, Jack had really liked this shirt. Red and all.
“And just when the fuck did you get your medical degree?” Owen wanted to know and then pointed a finger, “Oi! Where’dfuck you think you’re going, Pryce? Sit down!”
“Really doctor Harper,” Wesley tried, squaring his shoulders, “I’m fine.”
Own threw up his hands in expiration. “For the last fucking time!” he all but yelled, “*I* will be the damn judge of that! What is *wrong* with you two, Jesus holy fuck.”
Ianto and Wesley looked at each other before shrugging. This, in retrospect, was a stupid thing to do, since they both winced at the movement.
“Really, Owen, I’m fine,” Ianto tried again.
Owen just looked at him and then viciously pressed his thumb into the wound. Ianto went pale, gasped and the glared at Owen. “What the hell did you do that for?!”
“Makin’ a point,” Owen said and *looked* at Wesley. “Get up again and I’m gonna make a fuckin’ point with you too!”
Wesley meekly sat down and shared a look with Ianto.
“Okay, here’s the deal tossers,” Owen ranted on, getting various gauges, needles and threads from god only knew where. Wesley was rather certain he didn’t *want* to know from where. “Since I’m the one with the fuckin’ doctor degree here, I get to say who’s fine or not. The next one of you who’s gonna say he’s fine is gonna find himself on the receiving end of an overprotective boyfriend! Got it?”
He glared at Ianto, then at Wesley and was satisfied with the brief flare of panic in their eyes. Then they nodded, sat down and let the good doctor do whatever he wanted. Well, almost whatever he wanted.
Later Cordelia cornered Owen and point blank asked mister smug just how he got Wesley stop saying ‘he was fine’. Cause she’d been trying for years.
Owen just looked, if that was even possible, more smug and for the first time in his *life* said, “Patient doctor confidentiality.”
Clever
“Where’s Wesley?” Angel asked, glaring at Jack just out of principle.
Jack barely noticed or pretended not to notice anyway and shrugged. “Ianto took him down into the archives to show him some stuff.”
Angel seemed to consider this - no doubt going through all the dangers Wesley *might* get into in the archives - and nodded when finding none.
“Oh yeah, that’s a really good idea,” Cordelia snorted as she passed them both, the heels of her new Gucci’s clunking on the metal floor of the Hub.
“What?” Jack asked, giving her a confused frown before the dazzling smile - which seemed to have no effect on Cordelia for some disturbing reason - returned.
“Let the guy who’s salivating at the sight of alien artefacts take the guy who has an orgasm if he so much as passes a *bookstore* ‘show the archives’,” she stretched the last words and even raised her hands to use the ‘air quotes’.
One point two seconds, Cordelia timed, before both Jack and Angel looked at each other horrified and hurried down the Hub’s basement.
Growl
“So hi there handsome, come here often?” Captain Jack Harknes slid up next to Wesley and gave him the trademark Harknes grin.
For all of one second before a low, vicious growl made him take two steps back. Confused he looked around, a frown forming on his face and the smile slowly fading away.
Ianto looked at the scene from above with amusement as the Englishman reached out and fondly patted the vampire on his arm before returning to the text he was reading. As though nothing had just happened.
“What was that?” Jack wanted to know, turning around and looking startled when noticed Angel glowering at him.
“Mine,” growled Angel.
Jack held his hands up and quickly backed away. Man, but the vampire was territorial. Geeze.
Ianto sipped his coffee and made a mental note to ask Wesley later how he'd trained Angel to do that. Cause wow, that was hot. He *so * was gonna train Jack to do that too.
Shiver down his spine. Totally.
Bragging
“Ianto is a master at making coffee.”
“Wesley drinks tea, like a proper Englishman.”
“You're Irish!”
“So?”
“Ianto is really cute.”
“Wesley's cuter.”
“I am *not* cute, Angel!”
“Ianto has several university degrees.”
"Sir...?"
“Wesley was a Watcher.”
“Ianto's a phenomenal shag.”
“Sir!”
“Don't you dare, Angel.”
“And he knows about five different languages.”
“Wes knows twenty-five...”
“--twenty-six.”
“...and about a hundred demonic--”
“--Alien.”
“... and dead languages too.”
“Why would anyone want to learn a dead language?”
“Same reason someone goes wild over a knife to kill extinct demons.”
“Aliens.“
“You're just mad because I compared your brownies to bricks.”
“Ianto knows---”
“Oh for fucks sake! D'you want me to go down the autopsy bay and get out the measuring tape? Just so we can make sure?”
“I'd win. Measuring tapes don't lie.”
“Are you alright, Ianto? Coffee go down the wrong way?”
“This is getting really disturbing. And I hunt demons for a living. I was cool before I met y'all.”
“If we're gonna measure who *is* the biggest dick it's gonna be a tie.”
“Hey!”
“Hey!”
“He's not even really a captain.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“......”
“Well you got stupid hair!”