Title: Cease and desist
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack, Ianto
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 1,054 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for Challenge 469 - Duty
Summary: Sometimes the hardest thing is to simply do nothing.



Jack and Ianto were sharing dishwashing duties – or at least that was how Jack described it. Mostly it was Ianto washing dishes, rinsing them and setting them in the dish drainer, whilst Jack took them out, dried them, and then proceeded to leave them arranged on every square inch of available bench space, rather than putting them away, which would inevitably fall to Ianto as well. Jack claimed he didn't know where things went in this house because it was new and not technically theirs. Funny, Ianto thought, he never seemed to know where things went in Ianto's flat either, and it wasn't as if it would kill him to open a few cupboard doors and find out. He was about to make that a verbal suggestion when the sound of something outside made him freeze on the spot, marigolds still plunged in the hot water, ceasing their movement so that he could listen more carefully.

Jack slid one dinner plate loudly on top of another and Ianto shushed him. ‘Listen!’ He strained his ears and then was forced to slowly withdraw his gloved hands from the scalding water before it burned through to the skin, careful not to make any loud dripping noises or disturb the mounds of suds that were happily crackling on their own without help. The noise came again, eerily familiar. ‘Did you hear that? he whispered.

Jack's gaze was fixed on the kitchen window, staring blankly out into the darkness, unable to see anything. ‘Weevil,’ he replied, confirming Ianto’s suspicions.

Ianto snatched the tea towel from Jack and dried his hands before stripping off the gloves. ‘Let's go.’

‘Ianto, we can't. We're off duty,’ he said, clearly referring to their current assignment which required them to be undercover as a normal couple, trying to smoke out an alien sleeper cell.

‘When are we ever off duty!’ Ianto snapped. ‘There's a bloody weevil out there.’ They could hear its mewling groans, far from the sewers that they usually prowled beneath the city, feeding on whatever they could find down there. Weevils roaming residential streets spelled trouble. Weevils attracting attention to themselves, even more so.

‘So we call the others to come in and deal with it,’ Jack said.

‘That's mad!’ Since when did Jack ever shy away from running headlong first and asking questions later? ‘We've got everything we need right outside in the SUV. Hand clamps, weevil spray, reinforced metal betting…’ Of course, to everyone else the SUV just looked like one of those fancy Range Rovers, not a car designed with the defence of the planet in mind, armed to the teeth with weapons and technology. It was all thanks to the perception filter that they had installed, along with the ones they wore themselves, helping to maintain the illusion of their cover story. There was enough of an arsenal in the SUV to take down a dozen weevils with hand clamps left over.

Jack didn't look impressed by the suggestion. ‘You wanna have to explain to the neighbours why we decided to suddenly take off at ten o'clock at night for a little night time joy ride? Besides, it's not far away if we can hear it. What if we're seen?’

Will that really matter if the weevil sees them first? You want Bob or Mary to get mauled to death by a weevil? I doubt that will suddenly make them ineligible to win “Best front the lawn of the month!” They’d probably be awarded posthumously since they sodding won everything.

Jack didn't reply. He simply grabbed his phone and was waiting for someone on the other end to pick up. ‘Gwen? Yeah, got a weevil roaming around the Serenity Plaza Estate. Need you to grab Owen or Tosh and deal with it. Call me back just as soon as you've got it in custody, okay?’ He snapped the phone shut. Fait accompli. ‘They’re on their way.’

‘And were right here right now,’ Ianto reminded him. For all they knew, the weevil was on the move and they were missing the one opportunity to grab it before anyone else got hurt.

Jack fixed him with a serious expression. ‘If we go out there we'll blow our cover. What's more important, capturing one rogue weevil or an entire paramilitary vanguard of aliens bent on the destruction of our entire planet? We have to find and stop Cell 114 whatever the cost. We've made it this far without anyone suspecting we're not who we say we are. We can't afford to screw it up now.’

Ianto leaned back against the kitchen counter and huffed in frustration. Jack came to stand in front of him, hands rubbing up and down his arms placatingly. ‘I know,’ Jack said, empathising with that burning desire to do more. ‘Just this once though you've got to trust me. The others can handle it. We just have to sit tight and let them do their job whilst we do ours.’

Ianto stared gloomily at the now sparkling clean wine glasses and pasta bowls. It wasn't much of a job, this pretending to be normal. Especially not for Ianto who was trapped in the confines of the neighbourhood for days on end without seeing the outside world, and even then, it only included the supermarket. He'd have given anything for a bit of normal weevil chasing. At least then he'd feel like he was doing something, fulfilling what felt like his duty, not doing cosy little home cooked dinners for two every night. ‘I really miss chasing weevils,’ he finally said.

‘I know that too,’ Jack replied. ‘But, you know what? It doesn't have to be a total waste. As soon as we get the all clear from Gwen, what's say you and I recreate a little bit of post weevil action. Hmm?’

Ianto managed a small smile. ‘Yes, well I suppose Ken and Ifan wouldn't be totally out of character having loud, desperate sex.’

Jack leaned in close, hot breath against Ianto’s neck. ‘We’ll tell the neighbours there was nothing good on telly if they ask.’

‘Hopefully we're not that loud.’ Bad enough that Vanessa at number twelve undressed them with her eyes every time they went out their front door.

‘All in the line of duty, Ianto Jones. All in the line of duty.’