In The Back Door
Sep. 4th, 2008 10:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
randomlingWritten to cheer up another good friend who's in lots of pain this week.
Summary: Ianto's work trip to Florida doesn't go quite as he expected.
Warnings: Boybands, RPF.
Also: Thank you for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
phaballa for beta.
Forvaudevilles.
In The Back Door
"Okay," Jack said, "Gwen and Owen, you take those two houses. Tosh and I will take these on the left. Ianto, that one over there."
Ianto nodded to Jack and the five of them parted ways - Owen and Gwen bickering quietly as usual. Ianto hadn't actually expected to be brought all the way to Orlando, figuring that someone would have to stay in Cardiff and hold the fort, but here he was. Taking orders from Jack, using one of the IDs he'd spent two-and-a-half days working on back at the Hub. Apparently, Jack had someone to baby-sit the Rift while they were gone.
Their Rift, rather. Not the one right under their feet.
The house was big and white, and there was a large lawn in front that wasn't kept very neatly, though someone had made an attempt at mowing it in vaguely recent times. Pretty house, nice car in the front; and, well, in a gated community like this it wasn't too surprising that anyone who lived here was well off. Ianto strode up the path and knocked briskly on the door.
There was no answer for a long time.
Ianto sighed, knocked again, and considered the costs and benefits of forcing entry to the house. Security would probably a bitch without access to Jack's gadgets, it was true. So he waited, knocked a third time, and was finally rewarded with a shout of, "All right, I'm comin', I'm comin'!" A few seconds later the door opened.
"Hello," Ianto said with a smile, and stopped. The guy who'd opened the door was short and dark, bearded, with dark eyes which were narrowed as he peered up at Ianto. He was wearing a red T-shirt with some sort of alien printed on it, and he was... shit. He was Chris from N'Sync. Ianto had had a serious crush on him as a kid. Back in the late '90s, when Chris had been the weird-looking one with braces and braids and stupid glasses, Ianto had wanted to be just like him.
"Hello," Ianto said again.
"Help you?" Chris said.
"Um," Ianto said, fumbling his pocket for the ID, "yes." He held out the card; Chris took it and looked at it suspiciously for a moment. Then he handed it back.
"Okay, Mr Jones, what's the problem?"
Ianto regained his composure quickly. "I'm afraid, there's been a problem with the gas supply in this area," he said. "I need to check your mains, please."
"Sure," Chris said, and stepped back to let Ianto into the house.
Ianto checked the scanning device in his pocket as Chris showed him through to the back of the house. Nothing; there'd be a discreet beep if the signal they were looking for was detected. The corridor through the middle of the house was long, and from in front of Ianto, Chris asked, "We don't need to evacuate, do we?"
"No, sir."
"Good. That'd be a pain in the ass."
Ianto smiled politely, though Chris wasn't looking at him. The butler smile. "Yes."
"Mains are in the basement," Chris said, before turning sharply left and pushing open a door. He switched a light on, and sure enough, there were stairs down. Ianto followed Chris at the deferential distance of two paces back. There was a whole art to be pretending to be a serviceman. He'd perfected it working for Jack.
He pulled the scanning device out of his pocket as they hit the floor and held it up towards the pipes hopefully. The thing they were looking for liked basements, and they'd tracked it to this general area, but... nope. Not a thing. He kept scanning though, along the pipeline, keeping up the ruse.
"That looks kind of high-tech," Chris said. "What does it do?"
"It's looking for abnormalities in the composition of the gas," Ianto said smoothly.
"Oh."
Chris hung back while Ianto pretended to finish his work. After Ianto had reached the point where the pipes disappeared into the cellar wall, Chris said, "You're British, right?"
"Yes, I am." He smiled. The butler smile again. "Welsh, actually."
"So how'd you end up working for the gas company in Florida?"
"Oh, it's a long story," Ianto said.
"Hey," Chris said, smiling, "I'm an ageing-but-spry pop star who appears on reality TV. I got time."
Ianto was scanning back along the pipes, making it look like he was double-checking. Meticulous and conscientious, that was the effect he was going for. He didn't answer, pretending to be absorbed in his work. "I guess you don't, huh?" Chris said after another few seconds. "Other houses to check?"
"That's right."
"Shame," Chris said, and when Ianto looked around, Chris was staring openly at his arse.
Interesting.
This time, Ianto smiled a different smile. This was the smile he used on Jack when a serious distraction was needed. "Well," he said softly, "I suppose I could spare a few minutes. But let's not talk about my job."
"Okay." Chris's eyes were very dark and intense. "Talk about something, though. I like the accent."
Ianto pocketed the scanner, and crossed to where Chris was sitting on the stairs. "So what should I talk about?" he asked.
"I changed my mind," Chris said, and stood up to kiss him.
It lasted about ten seconds before Ianto had to sigh and pull back, because his earpiece was buzzing discreetly. "Excuse me," he said to Chris, and tapped it. "Yes?"
"Ianto," Jack's voice said. "We got a lead. I'm in number six, get over here now."
"Oh."
"Plus, there's this model that lives here, she is..."
"I'll be right there," Ianto said, cutting Jack off, and tapped his earpiece again to end the call. "I've got to go," he said. "We've found the source of the problem."
Chris nodded and stood up to let Ianto pass him on the stairs. "Okay," he said, and he slipped something small and thin and cold into Ianto's hand. "Back door. Later."
Ianto nodded once and took the stairs two at a time, then bolted out of the house and over to number six, slipping the cold thing into his pocket next to the scanner. He forgot all about it until much later, when the five of them were sitting in a downtown bar, drinking bad American beer and discussing containment options for transporting their bounty back across the Atlantic. When he remembered, he excused himself, and in the neon light of the bathroom, pulled the thing out of his pocket. It was a key.
Ianto turned it over once in his hand and smiled. This would take a little subterfuge, a little caution, a little planning; but it could be done.
Twenty minutes later, he paid for his round of drinks at the bar, tipped the barmaid generously, stepped out onto the street, and called a cab.
Summary: Ianto's work trip to Florida doesn't go quite as he expected.
Warnings: Boybands, RPF.
Also: Thank you for
phaballa for beta.For
vaudevilles.In The Back Door
"Okay," Jack said, "Gwen and Owen, you take those two houses. Tosh and I will take these on the left. Ianto, that one over there."
Ianto nodded to Jack and the five of them parted ways - Owen and Gwen bickering quietly as usual. Ianto hadn't actually expected to be brought all the way to Orlando, figuring that someone would have to stay in Cardiff and hold the fort, but here he was. Taking orders from Jack, using one of the IDs he'd spent two-and-a-half days working on back at the Hub. Apparently, Jack had someone to baby-sit the Rift while they were gone.
Their Rift, rather. Not the one right under their feet.
The house was big and white, and there was a large lawn in front that wasn't kept very neatly, though someone had made an attempt at mowing it in vaguely recent times. Pretty house, nice car in the front; and, well, in a gated community like this it wasn't too surprising that anyone who lived here was well off. Ianto strode up the path and knocked briskly on the door.
There was no answer for a long time.
Ianto sighed, knocked again, and considered the costs and benefits of forcing entry to the house. Security would probably a bitch without access to Jack's gadgets, it was true. So he waited, knocked a third time, and was finally rewarded with a shout of, "All right, I'm comin', I'm comin'!" A few seconds later the door opened.
"Hello," Ianto said with a smile, and stopped. The guy who'd opened the door was short and dark, bearded, with dark eyes which were narrowed as he peered up at Ianto. He was wearing a red T-shirt with some sort of alien printed on it, and he was... shit. He was Chris from N'Sync. Ianto had had a serious crush on him as a kid. Back in the late '90s, when Chris had been the weird-looking one with braces and braids and stupid glasses, Ianto had wanted to be just like him.
"Hello," Ianto said again.
"Help you?" Chris said.
"Um," Ianto said, fumbling his pocket for the ID, "yes." He held out the card; Chris took it and looked at it suspiciously for a moment. Then he handed it back.
"Okay, Mr Jones, what's the problem?"
Ianto regained his composure quickly. "I'm afraid, there's been a problem with the gas supply in this area," he said. "I need to check your mains, please."
"Sure," Chris said, and stepped back to let Ianto into the house.
Ianto checked the scanning device in his pocket as Chris showed him through to the back of the house. Nothing; there'd be a discreet beep if the signal they were looking for was detected. The corridor through the middle of the house was long, and from in front of Ianto, Chris asked, "We don't need to evacuate, do we?"
"No, sir."
"Good. That'd be a pain in the ass."
Ianto smiled politely, though Chris wasn't looking at him. The butler smile. "Yes."
"Mains are in the basement," Chris said, before turning sharply left and pushing open a door. He switched a light on, and sure enough, there were stairs down. Ianto followed Chris at the deferential distance of two paces back. There was a whole art to be pretending to be a serviceman. He'd perfected it working for Jack.
He pulled the scanning device out of his pocket as they hit the floor and held it up towards the pipes hopefully. The thing they were looking for liked basements, and they'd tracked it to this general area, but... nope. Not a thing. He kept scanning though, along the pipeline, keeping up the ruse.
"That looks kind of high-tech," Chris said. "What does it do?"
"It's looking for abnormalities in the composition of the gas," Ianto said smoothly.
"Oh."
Chris hung back while Ianto pretended to finish his work. After Ianto had reached the point where the pipes disappeared into the cellar wall, Chris said, "You're British, right?"
"Yes, I am." He smiled. The butler smile again. "Welsh, actually."
"So how'd you end up working for the gas company in Florida?"
"Oh, it's a long story," Ianto said.
"Hey," Chris said, smiling, "I'm an ageing-but-spry pop star who appears on reality TV. I got time."
Ianto was scanning back along the pipes, making it look like he was double-checking. Meticulous and conscientious, that was the effect he was going for. He didn't answer, pretending to be absorbed in his work. "I guess you don't, huh?" Chris said after another few seconds. "Other houses to check?"
"That's right."
"Shame," Chris said, and when Ianto looked around, Chris was staring openly at his arse.
Interesting.
This time, Ianto smiled a different smile. This was the smile he used on Jack when a serious distraction was needed. "Well," he said softly, "I suppose I could spare a few minutes. But let's not talk about my job."
"Okay." Chris's eyes were very dark and intense. "Talk about something, though. I like the accent."
Ianto pocketed the scanner, and crossed to where Chris was sitting on the stairs. "So what should I talk about?" he asked.
"I changed my mind," Chris said, and stood up to kiss him.
It lasted about ten seconds before Ianto had to sigh and pull back, because his earpiece was buzzing discreetly. "Excuse me," he said to Chris, and tapped it. "Yes?"
"Ianto," Jack's voice said. "We got a lead. I'm in number six, get over here now."
"Oh."
"Plus, there's this model that lives here, she is..."
"I'll be right there," Ianto said, cutting Jack off, and tapped his earpiece again to end the call. "I've got to go," he said. "We've found the source of the problem."
Chris nodded and stood up to let Ianto pass him on the stairs. "Okay," he said, and he slipped something small and thin and cold into Ianto's hand. "Back door. Later."
Ianto nodded once and took the stairs two at a time, then bolted out of the house and over to number six, slipping the cold thing into his pocket next to the scanner. He forgot all about it until much later, when the five of them were sitting in a downtown bar, drinking bad American beer and discussing containment options for transporting their bounty back across the Atlantic. When he remembered, he excused himself, and in the neon light of the bathroom, pulled the thing out of his pocket. It was a key.
Ianto turned it over once in his hand and smiled. This would take a little subterfuge, a little caution, a little planning; but it could be done.
Twenty minutes later, he paid for his round of drinks at the bar, tipped the barmaid generously, stepped out onto the street, and called a cab.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-09-04 10:23 pm (UTC)And I know I've already said this but he'd be so much better off doing Ianto than doing Gone Country. And I'd be happy if they televised it. Or something.
no subject
Date: 2008-10-14 10:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-05 09:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-14 10:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-05 06:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-14 10:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-07 01:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-14 10:30 am (UTC)Thank you!
no subject
Date: 2008-09-08 04:32 pm (UTC)This is made of so much win!
no subject
Date: 2008-10-14 10:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-14 10:42 am (UTC)So have one more ;)