Characters: Ianto, Jack.
Word Count: 763
Spoilers: Mentions Lisa, and Ianto’s time at Torchwood One.
Summary: Ianto really doesn’t understand why Jack is so fascinated with, not to mention turned on by, offices.
Written For: Challenge 209: Office at fan_flashworks.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
Jack and his office fetish! Ianto looked around; there was nothing even remotely romantic about an office, and he should know. Hadn’t he worked for several years in one at Canary Wharf? Torchwood Tower had been packed with state-of-the-art offices. Oh, there’d been storage areas, and laboratories, and communal areas such as break rooms and the cafeteria. There’d even been archives, which deserved the designation a whole lot more than Torchwood Three’s cluttered jumble of rooms and passageways beneath the main Hub ever would, but for the most part it had been an office building, much like you’d find in any big city, Cardiff included.
Ianto had been one among several hundred employees on the clerical side of things, a junior researcher with his own little cubicle in one of the big offices, containing his desk, chair, computer, internal phone, wastebasket, and a small cupboard. Personalisation of cubicles was encouraged, up to a point, as long as decorations were tasteful and not overdone, but really they all looked pretty much alike.
Naturally the senior employees had their own much bigger office spaces, and were allowed greater scope when it came to layout and furnishings. Director Hartman’s office was unsurprisingly the biggest of all, but yet quite Spartan in comparison to those assigned to her subordinates. If people thought Ianto was a bit on the OCD side, he was nothing compared to the uber-boss. Yvonne liked everything to be just so; she wasn’t big on anything that distracted from the business of running Torchwood and arming the British Empire.
This place brought back a lot of memories from before the Battle, but it also served to baffle Ianto. Why Jack found offices exciting, he couldn’t begin to imagine. Rows of people working away at their desks, with occasional pauses for a chat around the water-cooler, or a coffee in the break room… Yes, there had been office romances at Torchwood One; he and Lisa were a case in point and they’d been far from the only ones. There’d been a certain amount of intrigue too; gaining promotion was a bit of a cutthroat business at One, involving making yourself look good and everyone else look incompetent. Sabotaging the competition’s projects was not unheard of, and while it wasn’t openly encouraged, it also wasn’t punished, unless carried out so sloppily that everyone knew who’d done it.
Photocopying of body parts, however, would have been considered unbelievably crass. Hartman had made it clear that the photocopiers were for work use only; any unauthorized copying was prohibited. It was one of her main office rules, as was not using Torchwood’s computers for anything of a personal nature. Even the internal Instant Messenger service was to be used only to communicate with other employees or departments regarding work. If anyone wanted to arrange to have lunch with a colleague, or an interlude in a storage closet, they did so using their mobile phone and made damn sure not to be caught doing it. Internal memos were monitored; getting caught misusing them was… not good and could lead to demotion, or worse. It wasn’t worth the risk.
Ianto shook his head. Safe to say, whatever the reason behind Jack’s fascination with offices, he didn’t understand it, never mind share it. Offices were cold, clinical, boring even; all harsh fluorescent lights, pale painted walls, hardwearing carpets, and standard furnishings. They certainly didn’t inspire thoughts of romance in him.
Jack’s own spacious office at the Hub was another matter entirely; it mirrored and complemented the Captain’s personality and style, more like an extension of him than a workspace. It was the fitting setting for Jack in all his glory, and no one could say Jack wasn’t glorious. While Ianto wasn’t prepared to indulge Jack’s fetish in the uninspiring environs of a modern office building such as this one, which frankly left him completely unaroused, being draped over Jack’s antique desk was a far more appealing prospect. The scent and texture of the polished wood stimulated his senses, and its solidity was reassuring. Unlike the flimsy modern desks that surrounded him, it could take the weight of two grown men with ease, as well as being quite roomy. He didn’t have to worry that it might suddenly collapse and dump them unceremoniously on the floor.
In Ianto’s considered opinion, Jack could keep his office fetish to himself; Ianto had a far more understandable Jack fetish, and where better to indulge it than in Jack’s natural environment, surrounded by the ephemera of his lover’s long existence? That was far more to Ianto’s tastes.