Torchwood: Frequency

[fajrdrako_fic]

Title: Frequency
Author: fajrdrako
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack/Ianto, Gwen
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine, no claims, all property of the BBC.
Notes: Cross-posted to my lj, and to torch_wood. With thanks to flautopiccolo for the beta.


Frequency

From time to time Gwen noticed a certain smile on Ianto's face, a quiet, secret smile that was so very typical of him that it made her smile herself to see it. Under most circumstances, Ianto was good at keeping his thoughts private. It reminded her of something, but she couldn't place it.

One day when she was helping him fix the controls on one of the Weevil cells, she realized where she'd seen that smile before. Not in art, not on television, not on any random occasion, but on Ianto's face, right after she'd walked in on him and Jack as they were messing around in the hothouse.

That was not a moment she was likely to forget. The indelible hotness of it made her warm with the memory. She found herself smiling broadly, and carefully wiped the smile off her face before Ianto noticed. It wouldn't be the the best thing, to let your coworker know how much you enjoyed the sight, or the embroidered fantasy version of the memory, of catching them in flagrante.

But it did trigger a certain train of thought. So when they sat back with their coffee and the timelock set (six minutes, carefully timed by Ianto's stopwatch), Gwen said, "Ianto, can I ask you something personal?"

He gave her an inquisitive glance. "How personal?"

"Well, uh, very. Not really, though. I just wondered. How often do you and Jack have sex? On average?"

Ianto raised his eyebrows. It was difficult to tell whether he was amused, embarrassed, or annoyed. Jack would have made it an occasion for a bit of innuendo, but Ianto was simply impassive, drat him. "For comparison's sake?" he asked.

"Well... yes. Sort of."

He said, rather gently, "Rhys isn't Jack, Gwen. Comparisons wouldn't be fair."

"No, I know, but.... Are you going to tell me?"

"How do you define 'sex'?"

"More than a kiss or a touch. Say... deliberate encounters leading to orgasm."

"Including phone sex?"

She should have known. Jack, Jack, Jack, with his Bluetooth at the ready. She hid another smile, not very successfully. "If it seems appropriate."

He shrugged. "You want to know frequency per day, per week, per month, per millennium?"

That made her laugh. "Whatever you like."

"Average?"

"Yeah, average."

He considered.

"About twenty times, average, I'd guess. Without," he smiled briefly, and it was the kind of smile that had brought her to the question in the first place, "consulting my diary."

"Twenty times per month?" That was slightly demoralizing. She wasn't sure, given the time constraints of her jobs and Rhys's, that they even saw each other twenty times per month. As for sex - well, when they saw each other, when they weren't too busy, when they didn't just fall asleep whether they meant to or not -

"No," explained Ianto patiently. "Per week."

Gwen choked on her coffee. "Per week?"

"Per seven day period, yes."

"Ianto, you do know they say most people only do it about three times per week, average."

"Most people are not Jack. Or me."

"Well, no, but... Are you telling me the truth?"

"Yes." There was a certain gleam in his eyes. Good memories? Or was he teasing her?

"How do you find the time? I mean, quickies are all very well, but... We've been working, all of us. Working hard. Long hours. You and Jack included. You aren't even together all the time. And - Ianto, that's like three times per day, every day."

"We both like sex. And it's not every day," corrected Ianto. "That's an average. Sometimes we're too busy."

"Smug," she said. "That just means there are days you do it more. So most days you just slip up to the hothouse several times?"

"Or the infirmaries. Or the storage rooms. Or - well, there are all sorts of places, in and out of the Hub. Including his bed under his office. My place, too. He doesn't sleep. We try to get together late evening, before I go to bed, if I get the chance to go to bed. And before, or when, I come in to work. And often sometime between, if possible."

"It's a wonder Myfanwy ever gets fed. You have secret signals or something?"

"What are you imagining? We talk. Or message. We don't need secret signals. We know what we want."

She groaned, dropping her head. "I feel like a failure now. A total sexual failure." Even when she'd been having a torrid thing going on with Owen, they'd never done it that much. Nothing like. Even though she'd felt obsessive about it.

"You did ask. You could try the phone sex thing with Rhys."

"Yeah. Thanks."

It was time to check the cell controls. Ianto tested them carefully, methodically. They were working perfectly now, responsive at the touch of a button. He hesitated before saying, "Gwen, you know.... Remember that time you walked in on us? When you were going after the Flat Holm thing?"

"Hard to forget," admitted Gwen.

"Remember Jack said you could join us? I just wanted to say... the offer's still open. From him. From me. We'd like it. Not to embarrass you, but... he meant it."

"Not likely," she said gloomily. "You're a dear, Ianto, but Jack won't even touch me. He has this thing about me being faithful to Rhys - and I am, of course," she added hastily, "and it's as if he's some sort of guardian angel for my marriage. I can look but I can't touch, you know?"

"You think so?"

"Free Love, Harkness style might be on offer to others, but not to me."

"He wants what's best for you. Mostly he thinks Rhys is best, and what you deserve. Sometimes he wishes he was. You can take a man out of the fifty-first century, but you can't take the fifty-first century out of the man.... He's afraid of getting things wrong. The last century has been hard on him, adjusting and understanding. He's trying to get it right, because he loves you. Doesn't want to make mistakes that might make you come to hate him."

"You aren't jealous?"

"Sometimes I'm jealous, but I'm never jealous of you." His smile was almost bashful. "It's what I'm saying. He loves you. I love you. Not to get too sentimental about it, but - we're both here for you, is all."

"Sexually and otherwise?" She was teasing because she was touched. Ianto was sometimes so sweet.

"Your call."

She squeezed his hand. "You're a pet. Are you going to tell Jack about this conversation?"

Ianto slowly blushed. Very, very slowly, the pinkness spread across his cheeks. "I'd rather not."

"Don't, then." She kissed his cheek, lightly. "Now, back to work. We have things to do."

"We always do," said Ianto, and followed her out of the cells.

- end -