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fandomweekly2025-08-03 12:47 pm
m_findlow) wrote in fandomweekly2025-08-03 12:47 pm
Entry tags:
[#269] YOU ONLY LIVE TWICE (TORCHWOOD)
Theme Prompt: #269 - Self-indulgence
Title: You only live twice
Fandom: Torchwood
Rating/Warnings: PG
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 1,000 words
Summary: Ianto decides to take full advantage of Jack’s generous offer of a day off.
Ianto didn't really do days off. The job just didn't allow it so when Jack leaned back in his chair and told everyone that it was a non-negotiable day off, they exited stage left before the rift decided to have other ideas.
Ianto didn’t think they were off to the pub on their one day off. Who really knew what any of them actually did on their days off. Perhaps they had hobbies that no one knew about. Maybe they liked to cultivate and clip bonsai, maybe they hopped on their bike and were in training for the next Tour de France, or maybe they treated themselves to a hot bath and a bottle of champagne, soaking and listening to equally steamy, pornographic audiobooks.
Or maybe, like him, they would simply end up pottering around the house. He would have a pile of laundry waiting for him at home – shirts that needed scrubbing for stains that hadn’t come out the first three times he’d washed them, and a mountain of socks that had lost their partners in the mystery that was his tumble dryer. Then of course there was his annual pantry cleanout, working his way through all the cans and packets of food that were past their use-by and needed tossing out, before spending just as much time at the supermarket buying up new versions of the same items, destined to be thrown out in much the same way in another year from now.
Even when he found himself with a bit of spare time, he often filled it with work. There were always projects that got neglected and he didn’t mind using his time off to catch up on them, but today he decided that a little bit of selfish indulgence had been earned, setting aside all the backlogged projects and some overdue dusting and polishing. He waved his goodbyes to the team as they filtered out and then made his way up to the tourist office, closing the door behind him and flipping over the little sign on the outward facing door that now read “Sorry, we’re closed.”
No, today he was going to indulge in a James Bondathon. As many James Bond films as he could fit in, watched in the order they had been made, as they should be.
It wasn’t exactly the cinematic experience on the boxy fifteen inch computer screen on his desk with its tinny speakers, surrounded by pamphlets for local attractions and naff trinkets for sale. Nor was his leather swivel chair the optimal seating for such a viewing. He could have gone home to his flat and lounged on the sofa that was barely used, in front of the thirty eight inch monstrosity of a television he owned but never watched more than the morning news. His living room was perfect for a binge session, but he still liked to stay close to the hub, even on a day off, just in case Jack needed anything, which didn’t necessarily only include work-related things. He hadn’t told Jack his plans, and hadn't necessarily wanted Jack to watch with him. Sometimes things were just better when you enjoyed them alone. Plus Jack could never sit still for more than ten minutes at a stretch, even if Ianto was sitting on top of him.
He loaded up the playlist of films, each carefully extracted from their original DVD format onto a thumb drive that he could keep in a drawer nearby should the occasion ever arise when he had hours of nothing to do. It was more of a backup in case they got locked down by the hub’s security protocols, and failing any disaster that needed their immediate attention, had inordinate amounts of time to burn. Everyone concerned themselves with their physical needs at a time like that – having sufficient provision of emergency food and water, blankets and batteries. None of them worried about their mental needs – except Ianto.
He clicked play and eased back in his chair as the film began. It didn’t take long before the tourist office surroundings faded from view and he was totally engrossed by his screen. He might have quoted the screenplay, word for word, but he switched off from that, treating it as if he’d never seen them before, just letting himself get lost in the story.
Dr No was quickly consumed without interruption, then From Russia with Love carried on from where they’d left off. After Klebb and Bond struggled and Klebb attempted to stab Bond with a venom-tipped blade in one of her shoes, Ianto began to feel peckish, reminded that he'd missed lunch. He didn't really want to stop, having gotten right into the stream of things and looking forward to moving on to what was his favourite Bond film and, in his own humble opinion, the greatest Bond film of all time, Goldfinger. Instead he ordered a pizza from Jubilee, delivered directly to the tourist office door, perfectly timed to arrive just as the credits were rolling.
The pizza – Meat Feast with extra capsicum and mushrooms – smelled twice as good as usual. Perhaps it was because he planned to savour it rather than scoff it in haste, or maybe it was just the fact that he didn’t have to share. He unlooped his tie and dropped it on the desk in a messy heap, undoing the top two buttons of his shirt. That was much better, given it was his day off after all. Then he looked down at his feet. The shoes went, as did the socks, and then, in an absolute fit of extravagance, he lifted them onto the desk, lounging as far back as the chair would go. It’s just once, he told himself. The pizza box joined his lap and the lid flipped open, pepperoni wafting out.
"Mr. Ramirez and his friends will be out of business," Ianto mimed happily through a large mouthful of pizza. "At least they won't be using heroin-flavoured bananas to finance revolutions."
Title: You only live twice
Fandom: Torchwood
Rating/Warnings: PG
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 1,000 words
Summary: Ianto decides to take full advantage of Jack’s generous offer of a day off.
Ianto didn't really do days off. The job just didn't allow it so when Jack leaned back in his chair and told everyone that it was a non-negotiable day off, they exited stage left before the rift decided to have other ideas.
Ianto didn’t think they were off to the pub on their one day off. Who really knew what any of them actually did on their days off. Perhaps they had hobbies that no one knew about. Maybe they liked to cultivate and clip bonsai, maybe they hopped on their bike and were in training for the next Tour de France, or maybe they treated themselves to a hot bath and a bottle of champagne, soaking and listening to equally steamy, pornographic audiobooks.
Or maybe, like him, they would simply end up pottering around the house. He would have a pile of laundry waiting for him at home – shirts that needed scrubbing for stains that hadn’t come out the first three times he’d washed them, and a mountain of socks that had lost their partners in the mystery that was his tumble dryer. Then of course there was his annual pantry cleanout, working his way through all the cans and packets of food that were past their use-by and needed tossing out, before spending just as much time at the supermarket buying up new versions of the same items, destined to be thrown out in much the same way in another year from now.
Even when he found himself with a bit of spare time, he often filled it with work. There were always projects that got neglected and he didn’t mind using his time off to catch up on them, but today he decided that a little bit of selfish indulgence had been earned, setting aside all the backlogged projects and some overdue dusting and polishing. He waved his goodbyes to the team as they filtered out and then made his way up to the tourist office, closing the door behind him and flipping over the little sign on the outward facing door that now read “Sorry, we’re closed.”
No, today he was going to indulge in a James Bondathon. As many James Bond films as he could fit in, watched in the order they had been made, as they should be.
It wasn’t exactly the cinematic experience on the boxy fifteen inch computer screen on his desk with its tinny speakers, surrounded by pamphlets for local attractions and naff trinkets for sale. Nor was his leather swivel chair the optimal seating for such a viewing. He could have gone home to his flat and lounged on the sofa that was barely used, in front of the thirty eight inch monstrosity of a television he owned but never watched more than the morning news. His living room was perfect for a binge session, but he still liked to stay close to the hub, even on a day off, just in case Jack needed anything, which didn’t necessarily only include work-related things. He hadn’t told Jack his plans, and hadn't necessarily wanted Jack to watch with him. Sometimes things were just better when you enjoyed them alone. Plus Jack could never sit still for more than ten minutes at a stretch, even if Ianto was sitting on top of him.
He loaded up the playlist of films, each carefully extracted from their original DVD format onto a thumb drive that he could keep in a drawer nearby should the occasion ever arise when he had hours of nothing to do. It was more of a backup in case they got locked down by the hub’s security protocols, and failing any disaster that needed their immediate attention, had inordinate amounts of time to burn. Everyone concerned themselves with their physical needs at a time like that – having sufficient provision of emergency food and water, blankets and batteries. None of them worried about their mental needs – except Ianto.
He clicked play and eased back in his chair as the film began. It didn’t take long before the tourist office surroundings faded from view and he was totally engrossed by his screen. He might have quoted the screenplay, word for word, but he switched off from that, treating it as if he’d never seen them before, just letting himself get lost in the story.
Dr No was quickly consumed without interruption, then From Russia with Love carried on from where they’d left off. After Klebb and Bond struggled and Klebb attempted to stab Bond with a venom-tipped blade in one of her shoes, Ianto began to feel peckish, reminded that he'd missed lunch. He didn't really want to stop, having gotten right into the stream of things and looking forward to moving on to what was his favourite Bond film and, in his own humble opinion, the greatest Bond film of all time, Goldfinger. Instead he ordered a pizza from Jubilee, delivered directly to the tourist office door, perfectly timed to arrive just as the credits were rolling.
The pizza – Meat Feast with extra capsicum and mushrooms – smelled twice as good as usual. Perhaps it was because he planned to savour it rather than scoff it in haste, or maybe it was just the fact that he didn’t have to share. He unlooped his tie and dropped it on the desk in a messy heap, undoing the top two buttons of his shirt. That was much better, given it was his day off after all. Then he looked down at his feet. The shoes went, as did the socks, and then, in an absolute fit of extravagance, he lifted them onto the desk, lounging as far back as the chair would go. It’s just once, he told himself. The pizza box joined his lap and the lid flipped open, pepperoni wafting out.
"Mr. Ramirez and his friends will be out of business," Ianto mimed happily through a large mouthful of pizza. "At least they won't be using heroin-flavoured bananas to finance revolutions."