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fandomweekly2026-03-22 06:23 pm
m_findlow) wrote in fandomweekly2026-03-22 06:23 pm
Entry tags:
[#293] BACK AND FORTH (TORCHWOOD)
Theme Prompt: #293 - Rough seas
Title: Back and forth
Fandom: Torchwood
Rating/Warnings: PG.
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 1,000 words
Summary: Ianto is having a tough time with their latest assignment.
Ianto had never been a big fan of open water. He didn't even particularly like swimming. Sure, he appreciated a nice ocean view just as much as the next person, but that was the whole point. The ocean belonged in a view, not underneath him causing his stomach to roil in sync with the turbulent tides.
It wasn't even a small boat, he conceded, yet it still felt very much like a tiny cork bobbing up and down in a relentless ocean of unforgiving waves. He hated to think what this would have been like in a smaller vessel as he popped another mint in his mouth, determined to keep his stomach and its contents where they were.
He gripped the railing hard as he tried to navigate himself from the port side of the ship to the main bridge. Jack had suggested he get some fresh air to help with the nausea, but all he'd really achieved was a sodden layer of spray that now attached itself to his clothes and his hair, and the sense that he was the only thing moving in the midst of a completely still ocean, as opposed to when he'd been in the cabin and everything had at least been been moving relative to him.
Typically, Jack was loving every minute of their adventure, and looked the very part of some slightly insane sea Captain. All he really needed was a crazy talking parrot to complete the look. ‘Cheer up, Ianto. This is supposed to be fun.’ The green face that glared at him suggested otherwise, as he stumbled into Jack, having been knocked by another wayward wave. ‘You don't look so good, and it breaks my heart to say that.’
‘Thank you, Captain Obvious.’
‘They're predicting storms later this afternoon.’
Ianto cringed. ‘Wonderful.’
‘You’re gonna need your sea legs if we get caught out in bad weather.’
‘I think we should focus on sea stomach first,’ Ianto complained, feeling another urge to be sick.
‘I'd suggest you go lie down, but I suspect you'd only spend more time thinking about it. We just need to keep your mind occupied.’
He was tempted to tell Jack that he'd already tried that, dedicating the last half hour to making a list of ways to get his revenge on Jack for dragging him out here in the first place. Gwen was wrapped up cosy and dry back at the hub. Pregnancy had gotten her out of a lot of disagreeable jobs lately. ‘How much further is it?’ Ianto asked, trying to read the GPS display but not being able to keep steady long enough to focus on it.
‘Well, you remember how I said it was out in the Bristol Channel? It's more like the Irish Sea.’
‘Urgh,’ Ianto moaned.
Another large wave tossed the ship half on its side, sending them both careening into the far wall. ‘I think that storm's come early,’ Jack stated.
He didn't receive a reply, just the hand that flew to Ianto's mouth as he dived out of the cabin to empty his stomach over the side of the vessel. Well at least he’d paid attention to Jack’s briefing before they’d boarded. “Never turn your back on the sea,” Jack warned him. He didn’t fancy dealing with a man overboard situation.
‘Feel better?’ Jack asked when he finally returned inside, wiping a hand across his mouth.
‘Loads,’ came the dry remark.
‘Well at least your sarcasm is still intact. Here, take this and lie down.’ He handed over a bottle of white pills.
Ianto couldn't be bothered arguing. Anything had to be better than this.
Jack watched him disappear into the main cabin below deck. With any luck, the tranquiliser he'd given him would put him out cold for a few hours. Ianto would just think they were anti-nausea tablets. Jack didn't love doing it, but they were hours from their destination and he couldn't bear to watch the man suffer through more of the same, or worse if the weather kept deteriorating.
Two hours later Jack had conceded defeat against the stormy seas. Try as he might to continue navigating towards their destination, the ocean had other ideas, pushing their vessel in almost the opposite direction. They'd be back in Cardiff at this rate. Instead, Jack did the only thing he could. He radioed in to say they wouldn't be back tonight and that the team shouldn't worry. He dropped anchor and battened down the hatches, literally, before retreating to the cabin below, to wait the storm out.
Down in the main cabin, he passed through the kitchenette and into the small stateroom where he found Ianto curled up on the bed, breathing slowly and easily, still completely out of it. He pulled the covers out from under him and crawled into bed, tucking them back tightly around the pair of them. The boat continued to yaw heavily, and the last thing they needed was to be rocked right out of bed.
The storm was bad, but Jack had been through rougher seas than this. He dozed lightly, always just moments from action should they get hit by a rogue wave that attempted to capsize their craft. All the while, Ianto remained asleep, wrapped in Jack’s arms and bedcovers. Jack suddenly regretted sedating his lover in case they needed to abandon ship. A heaving Ianto was undoubtedly more useful in a crisis than an unconscious one.
Fortunately the storm petered out, and before Jack realised it, he too was fast asleep after a long tumultuous night. Alien hunting would recommence in the morning, but it was likely to start late, long after sunrise crested the horizon. For now, the much gentler sway and bob of the vast ocean underneath them had rocked them both to sleep, still dressed in clothes that now reeked of salt and seaweed. It was far from glamorous or comfortable, but it was part of the job. With luck, tomorrow would bring calmer seas.
Title: Back and forth
Fandom: Torchwood
Rating/Warnings: PG.
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 1,000 words
Summary: Ianto is having a tough time with their latest assignment.
Ianto had never been a big fan of open water. He didn't even particularly like swimming. Sure, he appreciated a nice ocean view just as much as the next person, but that was the whole point. The ocean belonged in a view, not underneath him causing his stomach to roil in sync with the turbulent tides.
It wasn't even a small boat, he conceded, yet it still felt very much like a tiny cork bobbing up and down in a relentless ocean of unforgiving waves. He hated to think what this would have been like in a smaller vessel as he popped another mint in his mouth, determined to keep his stomach and its contents where they were.
He gripped the railing hard as he tried to navigate himself from the port side of the ship to the main bridge. Jack had suggested he get some fresh air to help with the nausea, but all he'd really achieved was a sodden layer of spray that now attached itself to his clothes and his hair, and the sense that he was the only thing moving in the midst of a completely still ocean, as opposed to when he'd been in the cabin and everything had at least been been moving relative to him.
Typically, Jack was loving every minute of their adventure, and looked the very part of some slightly insane sea Captain. All he really needed was a crazy talking parrot to complete the look. ‘Cheer up, Ianto. This is supposed to be fun.’ The green face that glared at him suggested otherwise, as he stumbled into Jack, having been knocked by another wayward wave. ‘You don't look so good, and it breaks my heart to say that.’
‘Thank you, Captain Obvious.’
‘They're predicting storms later this afternoon.’
Ianto cringed. ‘Wonderful.’
‘You’re gonna need your sea legs if we get caught out in bad weather.’
‘I think we should focus on sea stomach first,’ Ianto complained, feeling another urge to be sick.
‘I'd suggest you go lie down, but I suspect you'd only spend more time thinking about it. We just need to keep your mind occupied.’
He was tempted to tell Jack that he'd already tried that, dedicating the last half hour to making a list of ways to get his revenge on Jack for dragging him out here in the first place. Gwen was wrapped up cosy and dry back at the hub. Pregnancy had gotten her out of a lot of disagreeable jobs lately. ‘How much further is it?’ Ianto asked, trying to read the GPS display but not being able to keep steady long enough to focus on it.
‘Well, you remember how I said it was out in the Bristol Channel? It's more like the Irish Sea.’
‘Urgh,’ Ianto moaned.
Another large wave tossed the ship half on its side, sending them both careening into the far wall. ‘I think that storm's come early,’ Jack stated.
He didn't receive a reply, just the hand that flew to Ianto's mouth as he dived out of the cabin to empty his stomach over the side of the vessel. Well at least he’d paid attention to Jack’s briefing before they’d boarded. “Never turn your back on the sea,” Jack warned him. He didn’t fancy dealing with a man overboard situation.
‘Feel better?’ Jack asked when he finally returned inside, wiping a hand across his mouth.
‘Loads,’ came the dry remark.
‘Well at least your sarcasm is still intact. Here, take this and lie down.’ He handed over a bottle of white pills.
Ianto couldn't be bothered arguing. Anything had to be better than this.
Jack watched him disappear into the main cabin below deck. With any luck, the tranquiliser he'd given him would put him out cold for a few hours. Ianto would just think they were anti-nausea tablets. Jack didn't love doing it, but they were hours from their destination and he couldn't bear to watch the man suffer through more of the same, or worse if the weather kept deteriorating.
Two hours later Jack had conceded defeat against the stormy seas. Try as he might to continue navigating towards their destination, the ocean had other ideas, pushing their vessel in almost the opposite direction. They'd be back in Cardiff at this rate. Instead, Jack did the only thing he could. He radioed in to say they wouldn't be back tonight and that the team shouldn't worry. He dropped anchor and battened down the hatches, literally, before retreating to the cabin below, to wait the storm out.
Down in the main cabin, he passed through the kitchenette and into the small stateroom where he found Ianto curled up on the bed, breathing slowly and easily, still completely out of it. He pulled the covers out from under him and crawled into bed, tucking them back tightly around the pair of them. The boat continued to yaw heavily, and the last thing they needed was to be rocked right out of bed.
The storm was bad, but Jack had been through rougher seas than this. He dozed lightly, always just moments from action should they get hit by a rogue wave that attempted to capsize their craft. All the while, Ianto remained asleep, wrapped in Jack’s arms and bedcovers. Jack suddenly regretted sedating his lover in case they needed to abandon ship. A heaving Ianto was undoubtedly more useful in a crisis than an unconscious one.
Fortunately the storm petered out, and before Jack realised it, he too was fast asleep after a long tumultuous night. Alien hunting would recommence in the morning, but it was likely to start late, long after sunrise crested the horizon. For now, the much gentler sway and bob of the vast ocean underneath them had rocked them both to sleep, still dressed in clothes that now reeked of salt and seaweed. It was far from glamorous or comfortable, but it was part of the job. With luck, tomorrow would bring calmer seas.