Fic: Frazzled
Sep. 7th, 2026 06:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
badly_knittedTitle: Frazzled
Author:
badly_knittedCharacters: Jack, Ianto.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Set after CoE, but Ianto survived.
Summary: The new, improved Hub is about to have its grand opening, and Ianto is panicking.
Word Count: 1245
Written For: Prompt 244 – Picture-Perfect at
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fandomweekly.Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters. They belong to the BBC.
Ianto was cleaning again, and to Jack’s eyes he was starting to look decidedly frazzled. That wasn’t an altogether bad thing, under most circumstances; Jack found a frazzled Ianto rather delectable, especially considering the amount of hands-on attention that would be required to get him un-frazzled. That was always enjoyable for both of them. Today, however, Ianto’s state of frazzlement was inconvenient. There wasn’t going to be time for Jack to employ his usual method of un-frazzling, and he doubted Ianto would be in the mood anyway, so he’d have to take a less enjoyable approach involving more words, and less hands and other body parts.
“Calm down, Ianto! Everything doesn’t have to be perfect and clean enough to eat off; no one’s going to care about the odd speck of dust or discarded sweet wrapper. I guarantee they won’t even notice.”
That turned out to be entirely the wrong thing to say, which was why Jack preferred the hands-on approach to the one involving words: there was less chance of making a tactical error.
A panicked expression crossed Ianto’s face. “Sweet wrapper? Where?”
Jack sighed; he should have known Ianto would overreact to any mention of the scrap of overlooked litter. “Under Gwen’s desk. It probably fell out of the bin when you were emptying them.”
Only Ianto would insist that the rubbish bins, which existed for the sole purpose of putting rubbish in, should be completely empty when their guest arrived. He immediately stooped and scrabbled around under the desk until he found the errant scrap of paper, then straightened up and stood there holding it as if he didn’t know what to do with it.
“Put it in the bin,” Jack suggested.
“I can’t do that, not when I already emptied them! It would look messy!” Ianto hastily shoved the wrapper in his pocket instead, where no one was likely to see it.
Jack leaned back casually against one of the immaculately clean and empty workstations, folding his arms over his chest as he fixed his lover with his sternest look. “I don’t know what you’re so worried about. It’s not like the press are going to be here, taking photos, and snooping under the desks, looking for anything you might have missed.”
Ianto stared at Jack like he’d sprouted a second head, which wasn’t completely out of the question, this being Torchwood. “That’s not the point, Jack! I want to make a good impression, and that’s not going to happen if the place looks dirty!”
“It’s not dirty, it can’t be! We only just completed the rebuild and redecorating, we’ve barely even used the place yet. It’s all still shiny and new. Especially since you’ve spent the last two days cleaning and polishing everything to within an inch of its life. Much more of that and you’ll have worn off all the shiny newness.”
All that got Jack was a sullen glare from Ianto. “Excuse me for caring about cleanliness and order!”
“You’re not just caring; you’re being obsessive, and there’s no need. Like I told you before, it doesn’t have to be perfect.”
“Of course it does! How often do we entertain royalty?”
“It’s only going to be a brief visit. Lizzie just wants to take a quick look around to see how her money’s been spent, which is only fair. She did give us quite a generous budget increase on top of the money for rebuilding. As long as she’s satisfied that we’ve spent what she gave us wisely, she’ll be happy.”
Instead of reassuring Ianto, that just made his face turn even paler than it usually was. “Oh God!”
Jack gave an exasperated sigh. As much as he loved Ianto, the Welshman had an unfortunate tendency to overreact, getting upset over the slightest little thing. “Now what?”
“I never should’ve suggested the murals, and I definitely shouldn’t have let you talk me into the one with the beer bottles! Whatever will Her Majesty think of us spending her money to paint inappropriate pictures on the walls?”
“A couple of dragons, a beach scene, and a few beer bottles are hardly inappropriate, Ianto. They give the place character, make it feel homey and welcoming.”
“But it’s not a home! This is where we work!”
“That doesn’t mean it has to be all cold and clinical. Well, apart from the med bay, the operating theatre, and the research labs, and we didn’t paint murals in those.”
“But we shouldn’t have been spending the Queen’s money on… on… fripperies!”
“We didn’t. I paid for all the decorating supplies, paints, brushes, cushions, rugs, and stuff out of my own pocket. Considering the hours we work, I figure we deserve some home comforts.”
“I don’t know how you can be so calm about this! The Queen of England is going to be here in…” Ianto checked his wristwatch and somehow managed to turn even paler. “Less than an hour!” He looked around frantically, as if half expecting Her Royal Highness to materialise out of the woodwork before he was ready for her. Although, the way he was behaving, he was NEVER going to be ready.
“Then perhaps you should go and freshen up. You said you wanted to put on a fresh suit before she got here.”
“But I haven’t finished cleaning!” Ianto’s voice rose perilously close to a squeak.
“Yes you have, don’t be so dramatic. Anyone would think you had OCD. I suppose I should be thankful you didn’t try to have a solid gold toilet and washbasin installed for the queen’s personal use on her one and only visit. Now THAT would have been considered wasting her money on fripperies.”
“Gold would be too cold to sit on, not to mention impractical. There’s a perfectly nice, unused washroom off the medical suite. I put brand new fluffy towels in there, and the best soap, just in case.”
“Of course you did, you think of everything. Now go, get changed, and stop worrying. Once Lizzie sees how well we’ve equipped this place, she’ll be more than satisfied. We’ll give her the grand tour, then the Doctor will return her to Buckingham Palace. As far as anyone else will know, she was there the whole time.”
“If we end up locked in the Tower, I’m blaming you!” Ianto took a quick look around, grabbed his cleaning supplies, and started across the new Hub to put them away just as a screech echoed from overhead, bringing him to an abrupt halt. He turned to stare at Jack with narrowed eyes. “You’d better not have let Myfanwy out! The last thing we need is to have her getting overexcited and divebombing everyone!”
“She’s fine, just a bit fractious over being shut in. Still getting used to her new eyrie. Now hurry along; Lizzie might arrive early. You know what the Doctor’s like when it comes to timekeeping.”
“Oh God! That would be all we need!”
Jack smirked as Ianto scurried away. Maybe he’d take a photo himself, for posterity; a nice candid shot of the Queen inspecting Torchwood Three’s newly renovated base of operations. They could enlarge and print out a copy, hang it on the wall in the new boardroom. After all, Lizzie was technically their commander in chief, and it would be a nice memento of the New Hub’s grand opening, adding the perfect finishing touch to the place.
Then again, maybe not. He had a feeling Ianto wouldn’t approve at all.
The End
“Calm down, Ianto! Everything doesn’t have to be perfect and clean enough to eat off; no one’s going to care about the odd speck of dust or discarded sweet wrapper. I guarantee they won’t even notice.”
That turned out to be entirely the wrong thing to say, which was why Jack preferred the hands-on approach to the one involving words: there was less chance of making a tactical error.
A panicked expression crossed Ianto’s face. “Sweet wrapper? Where?”
Jack sighed; he should have known Ianto would overreact to any mention of the scrap of overlooked litter. “Under Gwen’s desk. It probably fell out of the bin when you were emptying them.”
Only Ianto would insist that the rubbish bins, which existed for the sole purpose of putting rubbish in, should be completely empty when their guest arrived. He immediately stooped and scrabbled around under the desk until he found the errant scrap of paper, then straightened up and stood there holding it as if he didn’t know what to do with it.
“Put it in the bin,” Jack suggested.
“I can’t do that, not when I already emptied them! It would look messy!” Ianto hastily shoved the wrapper in his pocket instead, where no one was likely to see it.
Jack leaned back casually against one of the immaculately clean and empty workstations, folding his arms over his chest as he fixed his lover with his sternest look. “I don’t know what you’re so worried about. It’s not like the press are going to be here, taking photos, and snooping under the desks, looking for anything you might have missed.”
Ianto stared at Jack like he’d sprouted a second head, which wasn’t completely out of the question, this being Torchwood. “That’s not the point, Jack! I want to make a good impression, and that’s not going to happen if the place looks dirty!”
“It’s not dirty, it can’t be! We only just completed the rebuild and redecorating, we’ve barely even used the place yet. It’s all still shiny and new. Especially since you’ve spent the last two days cleaning and polishing everything to within an inch of its life. Much more of that and you’ll have worn off all the shiny newness.”
All that got Jack was a sullen glare from Ianto. “Excuse me for caring about cleanliness and order!”
“You’re not just caring; you’re being obsessive, and there’s no need. Like I told you before, it doesn’t have to be perfect.”
“Of course it does! How often do we entertain royalty?”
“It’s only going to be a brief visit. Lizzie just wants to take a quick look around to see how her money’s been spent, which is only fair. She did give us quite a generous budget increase on top of the money for rebuilding. As long as she’s satisfied that we’ve spent what she gave us wisely, she’ll be happy.”
Instead of reassuring Ianto, that just made his face turn even paler than it usually was. “Oh God!”
Jack gave an exasperated sigh. As much as he loved Ianto, the Welshman had an unfortunate tendency to overreact, getting upset over the slightest little thing. “Now what?”
“I never should’ve suggested the murals, and I definitely shouldn’t have let you talk me into the one with the beer bottles! Whatever will Her Majesty think of us spending her money to paint inappropriate pictures on the walls?”
“A couple of dragons, a beach scene, and a few beer bottles are hardly inappropriate, Ianto. They give the place character, make it feel homey and welcoming.”
“But it’s not a home! This is where we work!”
“That doesn’t mean it has to be all cold and clinical. Well, apart from the med bay, the operating theatre, and the research labs, and we didn’t paint murals in those.”
“But we shouldn’t have been spending the Queen’s money on… on… fripperies!”
“We didn’t. I paid for all the decorating supplies, paints, brushes, cushions, rugs, and stuff out of my own pocket. Considering the hours we work, I figure we deserve some home comforts.”
“I don’t know how you can be so calm about this! The Queen of England is going to be here in…” Ianto checked his wristwatch and somehow managed to turn even paler. “Less than an hour!” He looked around frantically, as if half expecting Her Royal Highness to materialise out of the woodwork before he was ready for her. Although, the way he was behaving, he was NEVER going to be ready.
“Then perhaps you should go and freshen up. You said you wanted to put on a fresh suit before she got here.”
“But I haven’t finished cleaning!” Ianto’s voice rose perilously close to a squeak.
“Yes you have, don’t be so dramatic. Anyone would think you had OCD. I suppose I should be thankful you didn’t try to have a solid gold toilet and washbasin installed for the queen’s personal use on her one and only visit. Now THAT would have been considered wasting her money on fripperies.”
“Gold would be too cold to sit on, not to mention impractical. There’s a perfectly nice, unused washroom off the medical suite. I put brand new fluffy towels in there, and the best soap, just in case.”
“Of course you did, you think of everything. Now go, get changed, and stop worrying. Once Lizzie sees how well we’ve equipped this place, she’ll be more than satisfied. We’ll give her the grand tour, then the Doctor will return her to Buckingham Palace. As far as anyone else will know, she was there the whole time.”
“If we end up locked in the Tower, I’m blaming you!” Ianto took a quick look around, grabbed his cleaning supplies, and started across the new Hub to put them away just as a screech echoed from overhead, bringing him to an abrupt halt. He turned to stare at Jack with narrowed eyes. “You’d better not have let Myfanwy out! The last thing we need is to have her getting overexcited and divebombing everyone!”
“She’s fine, just a bit fractious over being shut in. Still getting used to her new eyrie. Now hurry along; Lizzie might arrive early. You know what the Doctor’s like when it comes to timekeeping.”
“Oh God! That would be all we need!”
Jack smirked as Ianto scurried away. Maybe he’d take a photo himself, for posterity; a nice candid shot of the Queen inspecting Torchwood Three’s newly renovated base of operations. They could enlarge and print out a copy, hang it on the wall in the new boardroom. After all, Lizzie was technically their commander in chief, and it would be a nice memento of the New Hub’s grand opening, adding the perfect finishing touch to the place.
Then again, maybe not. He had a feeling Ianto wouldn’t approve at all.
The End
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Date: 2026-09-07 06:26 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2026-09-07 06:37 pm (UTC)Thank you!