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Excerpt from the Sons of Don verse: after an eventful night with Captain John, PC Andy heads off to the office for work.
Yeeeah, I don't know, I really don't.
"Well, someone got lucky last night," Ianto says.
"Bugger off," Andy says, because it's far too early in the morning to be dealing with this, but he can feel the pink flush creeping up toward his ears, and he knows it's giving him away.
He is still hung over from last night, and his hair is a knotted mess, and his mouth tastes like he licked a car tire, and there is a psychotic murdering time traveler in his flat right now probably eating all of the week's groceries and mucking up his bathroom, and the last thing he needs on top of all that is Ianto being smug.
He doesn't know why he thought he could hide it from Ianto to begin with. It's like having their own office ninja, except that instead of poisoning and stabbing people, Ianto makes coffee and collects gossip. The scary thing is, Andy doesn't know if Torchwood trained him to do it, or if was always that way and Torchwood just gave him the chance to abuse it horribly.
He suspects the latter. Judging from Jack, Torchwood does not deal well in subtlety.
"Now come on, tell us what happened last night," Ianto says with a wicked gleam in his eyes.
"What us?" Rhys shouts from his desk across the room, not bothering to turn his chair around. "I don't care what he gets into in his spare time. I already hear enough about that sort of thing from you, Mister of course I wasn't shagging my boyfriend in the supply closet, I was just showing him around."
"There's nothing to tell," Andy growls, and that's the god's honest truth.
Well, okay, not so much. There's probably quite a lot to tell in how he went from getting pissed in the pub to chasing a wanted time traveling criminal through the Cardiff club scene to waking up this morning with said criminal in his bed and hickeys in some very awkward places. But he really, really doesn't want to tell it, and that's close enough, right?
"You'd think he'd be more cheerful, considering," Ianto says, and that's damn well enough of that.
"You're a prat, Ianto, and don't we have actual work to be doing? Or have we given up on the alien hunting business in favor of having a go at me?"
Ianto waves a large manila envelope at him. "Funny you should mention it, but Jack dropped this by this morning. Thought it would be more up our alley than theirs."
"Well, give it here," Andy says, pulling up his chair.
Yeeeah, I don't know, I really don't.
"Well, someone got lucky last night," Ianto says.
"Bugger off," Andy says, because it's far too early in the morning to be dealing with this, but he can feel the pink flush creeping up toward his ears, and he knows it's giving him away.
He is still hung over from last night, and his hair is a knotted mess, and his mouth tastes like he licked a car tire, and there is a psychotic murdering time traveler in his flat right now probably eating all of the week's groceries and mucking up his bathroom, and the last thing he needs on top of all that is Ianto being smug.
He doesn't know why he thought he could hide it from Ianto to begin with. It's like having their own office ninja, except that instead of poisoning and stabbing people, Ianto makes coffee and collects gossip. The scary thing is, Andy doesn't know if Torchwood trained him to do it, or if was always that way and Torchwood just gave him the chance to abuse it horribly.
He suspects the latter. Judging from Jack, Torchwood does not deal well in subtlety.
"Now come on, tell us what happened last night," Ianto says with a wicked gleam in his eyes.
"What us?" Rhys shouts from his desk across the room, not bothering to turn his chair around. "I don't care what he gets into in his spare time. I already hear enough about that sort of thing from you, Mister of course I wasn't shagging my boyfriend in the supply closet, I was just showing him around."
"There's nothing to tell," Andy growls, and that's the god's honest truth.
Well, okay, not so much. There's probably quite a lot to tell in how he went from getting pissed in the pub to chasing a wanted time traveling criminal through the Cardiff club scene to waking up this morning with said criminal in his bed and hickeys in some very awkward places. But he really, really doesn't want to tell it, and that's close enough, right?
"You'd think he'd be more cheerful, considering," Ianto says, and that's damn well enough of that.
"You're a prat, Ianto, and don't we have actual work to be doing? Or have we given up on the alien hunting business in favor of having a go at me?"
Ianto waves a large manila envelope at him. "Funny you should mention it, but Jack dropped this by this morning. Thought it would be more up our alley than theirs."
"Well, give it here," Andy says, pulling up his chair.
