Characters: Jack, Ianto, Owen.
Summary: Ianto has picked up an annoying habit.
Word Count: 500
Written For: Prompt #418: Top 5 Patsy Cline Songs, at slashthedrabble.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters. They belong to the BBC.
A/N: This one’s on the cracky side. I could not resist the temptation.
Having a lover who was immortal and self-healing was a bit of a mixed blessing Ianto decided as he searched the dirty alley by torchlight, looking under and behind the various bits of rubbish strewn there for the elusive missing piece. He’d found the other three, so it had to be around here somewhere… The beam of his torch suddenly illuminated something gleaming wetly under a discarded newspaper.
“Aha! Got it!”
“About time,” Owen muttered. “Hurry up, before he grows a replacement.”
Snatching up Jack’s missing finger, Ianto hurried back to the SUV parked at the end of the alley, where Jack sat waiting. A quick rinse with some bottled water and the finger was good to go; Ianto passed it to Owen, who stitched it back in place so it would reattach neatly. It was all in a day’s work.
“You’re sure you stitched them back on in the right order?” Jack asked, looking at his hand. “They look a bit odd.”
“Course I did!” Owen sounded offended, but he double-checked anyway. “They all match up perfectly, see? They only look odd because they’re a bit mangled by that thing’s teeth.”
“Huh.” Jack looked at his hand dubiously. “Suppose I’ll have to take your word for it.”
“At least they were easier to find and reattach than your ear the other week,” Ianto consoled Jack, sliding into the back seat beside him. “And a lot less unpleasant than the time your head was sliced off.”
“Don’t remind me,” Jack said with a shudder. “I was still alive for a few seconds after that, you have no idea what it’s like to look at your own body from several metres away.”
“Sorry. You’re more or less all in one piece now though.” Ianto looked at Jack’s abused hand. “I think it’s healing already, you’ll be good as new by the time we reach the Hub.”
“I take it you expect me to do the driving,” Owen grumbled, getting in behind the wheel and adjusting the seat. “Not only do I have to perform emergency surgery, I get to be the chauffeur too.”
“I thought you liked driving the SUV. You’re always complaining about Jack and I hogging it; now we’re letting you have a turn and you’re still complaining. There’s just no pleasing some people.”
Owen didn’t reply, just started the engine and pulled away from the kerb.
Ianto settled back in the rear seat, his arm around his captain, humming to himself.
Abruptly, Jack pulled away and glared at his lover. “You’re doing it again,” he said peevishly.
“Hmm?” Ianto looked at him questioningly. “Doing what?”
“Humming that song again! Every time something like this happens you start humming it, and it’s not funny.”
“Oh, I hadn’t realised. Well you’ve only got yourself to blame. I would probably never even have heard of Patsy Cline if you hadn’t bought her Greatest Hits LP, so it’s your own fault that I’ve got ‘I Fall to Pieces’ stuck in my head.”