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lullabelle

Stoled from

thepyromanical1! And pretty much everyone else....

I'm offering up fic (of >150 words) to the first 5 people who comment with a pairing or characters and a prompt or two, of which I'll chose one. But in return, you have to post this in your own journal. (It doesn't have to be fic offered though, it can be art or picspams or meta or vids or whatever, and you can chose the number).

My specialties are Torchwood and NuWho. I reserve the right to take for-freaking-ever to finish because I have the attention span of a red squirrel, and I might need to wait for ~*~inspiration~*~ (or vodka) to strike.

Current Mood: apathetic

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

heddychaa.livejournal.com

John/Ianto, revenge/cheating/general backstabbing nastyness.

:D

From:

http://users.livejournal.com/_lullabelle_/

John Hart is, on the whole, incredibly misunderstood. For one, there seems to be the misconception that he lacks stealth. Absolutely untrue. If it were true he wouldn't be in the Torchwood hub right now, quiet as a cat, sneaking through the dim red light, and about to pull one over on Captain Jack Harkness right under his big, stupid nose.

Also, the idea that he is obsessed with Jack. Bollocks! Jack's not the primary reason he's here, now, in 2005 Cardiff. The primary reason is the absolutely astounding pile of money he stands to make should he succeed in this little heist. Screwing Jack is just a bonus -- and isn't it always?

Sneaking in is ridiculously easy. He just uses his rift manipulator to 'port right inside -- the only downside being that he's unable to use the abundant rift energy to boost his power, since such an action would no doubt trip an alarm. Oh, well. Still. Like taking candy from a baby. Or a Xaavarian matter converter from an embarrassingly inept super secret organization in the 21st century. Amateurs. A 51st century Dreaksian warlord is offering a king's ransom for one of the little buggers. They're rare, nearly impossible to find in their proper time, but John has it on good authority that there's one sitting in the bowels of the Torchwood hub, deposited by the rift, and due to explode in 2009 along with everything else in this unrepentant shithole. The thing is destined to be destroyed, so stealing it now is a victimless crime anyway.

What he isn't expecting is the maze of tunnels that make up the hub's lower levels. He knows from some unfortunate experience that the cells are to the left. So he goes right, and is greeted with a labyrinth of tunnels.

"Wonderful."

He tries door number one. Mechanical room. Door number two contains nothing but folding chairs and a few cardboard boxes. Not the archive, hopefully. From there, the hallway branches again, and John has a choice. Right or left.

But then there's a soft female voice calling, "Ianto? Ianto, is that you?" all soft and tear-choked. It's not the tech-head, because he's made sure she was out, and it's not the other one, the copper, because he's heard her nattering enough at this point to recognize her voice.

Every instinct he has screams at him to ignore her and continue his mission, but his curiosity speaks to him louder than instinct, and he has guns of both the stunning and bullet-dispensing variety at his disposal, as well as a pocketful of retcon. Just a peek.

He follows the voice to a pair of heavy iron doors and peers in the window. Inside is a woman on a table, plated in metal and lit in blue.

He recognizes the tech. What the fuck is Jack playing at?

"Ianto?" she calls again.

Behind him comes the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked. "Turn around slowly."

Ah, this is a voice he recognizes. He does as he's told, slowly bringing his hands up to rest behind his head. "Hello, Eye Candy."

Ianto's eyes are steely, but confusion creeps in at the edges at the familiar form of address. "Who are you?" He looks haggard, worn, like he hasn't slept in days.

"I'm a friend of Jack's." Not a total lie, just a liberal stretching of the truth. "You have a partially converted Cyberman in your basement., but I'm guessing you knew that." He cocks his head. "And I'm guessing Jack doesn't."

From:

http://users.livejournal.com/_lullabelle_/

Ianto doesn't answer, but he doesn't need to. His eyes are darting back and forth between John and the door housing the Cyberman. He looks utterly trapped, despite being the one with the gun.

"You can't turn me over to Jack, because then Jack will wonder why you're still here, and discover your little girlfriend here." John gives his most trustworthy smile. "I think there's a way we can both get what we want."

"You think so? Well, friend-of-Jack's, tell me: does anyone know you're here?"

The earnestly delivered statement makes John laugh out loud. It bubbles up out of him without warning, surprising them both. "Did you just threaten to kill me? I think we both know you're not going to kill me. What kind of person would that make you?"

He continues to chuckle, and this time when Ianto's eyes dart to the door, John is able in one fluid motion to close the distance between them, grab Ianto's wrist, and twist viciously. Ianto yelps, but manages to maintain his grip on the weapon, and John compensates by propelling him back against the wall and twisting again. This time the weapon clatters to the floor.

John holds his gaze, grinning like a madman. "I think I like you, but I'm only saying as much because you won't remember it later." A sudden thought occurs to him: a way to make this little caper even sweeter. "Are you fucking Jack yet, Eye Candy?"

"What?" Ianto demands, indignant.

John repeats the question, slowly, like he's talking to an idiot, which considering the threat to life-and-limb that's being harbored down here, he just might be. He's got one hand keeping Ianto's gun hand pinned to the wall, while his opposite forearm is pressed firmly to his throat. John decides to risk some leverage by pushing their lower bodies flush together. It's not much of a risk; Ianto's not much of a fighter, not yet.

"I'm not."

"Ah, but you look so guilty. You've thought about it. And who wouldn't? The Captain is a great lay." John pushes his hips forward, grinds just a little and Ianto's eyes go wide. John dims the wattage on his smile, down to a knowing smirk. He's hard already, spurred on by Ianto's disinterest. Despite frequent claims to the contrary, John has always liked to work for it; the chase, the con, makes the payoff so much sweeter. He moves his restraining hand away, compensating by pressing harder against Ianto's windpipe, making it momentarily impossible to breathe.

When John's hand reappears, it's holding his gun to Ianto's head. He backs off, allowing his captive to gasp and choke for breath. When the coughing has subsided, John orders, "On your knees."

Ianto stares at him in disbelief, but does as he's told when John presses the cold tip of the pistol against his temple. He sinks to his knees and looks afraid, which is pointless because John can't really hurt him without fucking up the timeline.

"Don't look at me like that, I'm about to teach you some useful life skills." And then immediately make you forget them. "Take me out. Use your mouth. And watch the teeth. I have a gun."

Ianto rolls his eyes at the reminder. The gun is still digging into the thin skin of his temple. He's not likely to forget. Then he goes back to staring at John's crotch like he's forgotten how to work a zip, which maybe he has.

From:

http://users.livejournal.com/_lullabelle_/

"Let's go, Eye Candy. The sooner you do this, the sooner you can get back to tending your tin can, and the sooner I can get out of your hair."

Ianto's hand reaches out to tentatively unbuckle John's belt, just before every muscle in John's body jolts and he lands in a heap on the floor. When Ianto scrambles back from him, he's holding John's stun gun. John's stupid fucking stun gun.

Fine. He doesn't really have time for this anyway. John manages to rally his rebellious limbs just enough to sweep out with one leg and knock Ianto's feet out from under him. Ianto lands on his butt with an "umph!" and then John's on top of him, forcing his mouth open and jamming two little white pills into the back of his throat with his fingers, one hand on his jaw like a vice to keep him from clamping down. When John pulls his hands away he holds Ianto's mouth closed and strokes his throat the way he would an uncooperative animal until the man beneath him stops struggling and his eyes roll back in his head.

Finally, John pulls himself to his feet and straightens himself up, trying to regain some sense of dignity. As soon as he gets what he came for, he'll be able to have all the sex he wants with people who know what they're doing. Give him a whore over a virgin any day.

He spares one last glance for the man crumpled on the floor, and robot in the metal bikini, and then gets down to business.