Fic, Just Desserts: Chapter 2, "Piatto Speciale Per Due"

[loveslashangst]

Story: Just Desserts
Author: the Tired-but-Satisfied ophymirage
Beta and Manager: Our Gracious Hostess loveslashangst
Characters: Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones
Rated: Adult for (eventual) slash, bisexuality, mature content, language, and pornographically good food.
Disclaimer: If I owned Torchwood, it would be all smut, all the time. Yes, even more than it is now.
Spoilers: AU, but mildly so: Takes place somewhere in between Kiss Kiss Bang Bang and Reset. If you know that Jack asked Ianto on a date (awww!), you're good to go.
Summary: Set in the Faithful!Verse. Jack takes Ianto out to dinner, with surprising results.

Author's Notes: I've said before that LSA and I spend a LOT of time on IM working on backstory for nearly everything about Faithful. This is another story-from-backstory-work, set right around "Out Standing in His Field." Though you don't need to have read that to read this, my second-timer's ego would love it if you did. :D


(In which the relative conversational merits of the plant and animal kingdoms are pondered.)



Yes honey, you can have more. Ah-hah, Yan. That’s my fingers.

Oops.

You’re not exactly looking contrite there.

As if that wasn’t your intention to start with. Jack.

Ah, you’ve discovered my clever plan. I’d kiss you as a reward, but the waiter’s hovering again. Perhaps you should open your eyes for a minute and consider entrees.

3.

“Chicken marsala, please.”

“The ravioli dell'aragosta con zafferano, thanks very much.” Also, boring. You get that every time we go for Italian.

I like it, thanks. And I might add, it’s that sweet/salt flavor you were claiming to enjoy so much earlier.

I must have had something slightly different in mind.

Of course, sir.

Sir again, huh? Then “Stop checking your Blackberry under the table” is an order. Don't look at me like that. You may be discreet, honey, but you’re not that sneaky.

I’ll keep that in mind, the next time you accuse me of hiding the binder clips.

I wasn’t *actually* going to use them anywhere inappropriate, you know.

I’m well aware of that, sir. Especially since I’m the only one who understands the espresso machine.

You drive a hard bargain, Jones Ianto Jones.

I prefer to think of it as preemptive negotiation.

Hahaha. What did Owen say, anyway?

Owen says that he and the plant have had quite enough of each other, Tosh has apparently left for Chinese food (along with a comment I won’t repeat),

- That’s all right, I can guess the general gist –

Yes, and that he has forwarded himself and all calls to the local pub. He suggests, barring Armageddon, we get as well fucked as he intends to. Shall we switch to water?

Nope. We’re going to trust Owen. - Ianto, what are you doing?

Checking for pupil dilation - someone’s apparently placed Retcon in your wine, sir.

Ianto. We are going to relax, eat a wonderful dinner, finish the wine, and trust. Owen. I even promise not to utter the words “what could go wrong?”, okay?

Are you making that an order, sir?

Only if it’s needed to keep you in your chair. Was Owen examining the fern we picked up yesterday?

Yes, he spent most of today on it. We’ve all been drafted at various points. I was testing soil mixtures for caretaking. Rich topsoil went over well generally, but the one it liked best, well...

Have we got another one that likes blood?

No – on a hunch, he tried a compound that’s mildly radioactive. Nothing strong enough to hurt us, but it really liked that. Reacted almost as if – well, as if it were starving. We’ll have to monitor the effects long-term.

Does he think the plant’s radioactive? Some kind of mutant or something?

He said something about the structure of it, that it’s terrestrial, but that that species of fern has over 1400 chromosomal pairs, and they’re all active, which isn’t, er, standard. He also muttered something about Tunguska and the X-Files, but I don’t think he was serious.

He may be on to something there. Not even Torchwood knows what happened at Tunguska. Oops - incoming.

“Thank you, yes, that looks wonderful.”

“Perfect, thank you.”

Ooh, this does look rather good. Lots of mushrooms. Good for soaking up the – Jack. You’re moaning again.

I can’t – mmm – help it. Ooh, this may be better than the figs.

What did you order, anyway? I caught ‘ravioli,’ but not the rest of it.

Ravioli dell'aragosta con zafferano. Ravioli with lobster in a saffron cream sauce.

...

I’d say by the way your eyes just glazed over that you’d like a bite?

That would be entirely acceptable, I think, sir.

Lean closer then – I’d hate to get cream sauce on that lovely tie.

Wouldn’t be the first time.

Ha ha. Come here.

... ohhhhh...

Ianto? You’re moaning. In case you were unaware.

With all due respect, sir, shut up. ‘m – oooh – trying to enjoy it with no distractions.

I can tell. That’s the first time I’ve seen that exact expression on your face in public.

My god. That was delicate, and rich, and – and exquisite.

It’s the saffron, the touch of the exotic in all that sweet richness. Makes it completely decadent.

Yes, that’s the word I wanted.

Did you want another bite along with the word?

Oh, yes, please.

... Yan, watching your face when you taste that – you’re gorgeous, seeing you surrender so utterly to the experience.

Oh god... Jack.

Have another taste. You’re so lovely, Ianto. Makes me want to take you so many places. Mmm. There’s a restaurant in the Cassiopeia sector, 26th century, that makes the most divine chocolate-cinnamon sauce. Meant to be served off warm skin. Ha. I had a dinner there with -

You’ve actually told me that one, sir.

I have?

Something about the local indecency laws and the number of partners at your table?

More that Rose shouldn’t have actually been ON the table, but –

Of course. Foolish of me to have forgotten the details.

It was a long time ago, Yan. No need to remember it. ... How’s the marsala, by the way?

Actually, it’s excellent. The mushrooms are a wonderful sponge for the sauce. Would you like some?

A trade? Yes, I think I would. Mmmm. You’re right, they do that very well. Good sherry in the base.

Jack – at least use your OWN fingers.

Yours taste much better. ... Have some of the cream sauce. You’ll see what I mean.

Sir -

You wouldn’t want me to drip on that rather stunning armani – ah. HAH.

Hmmm. You’re quite right sir. It does taste rather good that way.

You... Ha. You never fail to surprise me, Yan.

You could always reward me with more ravioli, sir. Ah – fork this time, please.

Well. Lean in closer then. ... – Now, see, I missed. You’ve got sauce just – there – at the corner of your – here, let me – mmmm. MMMM. Tastes even better than your fingers.

... jack...

Hmmmnn? What’s on your mind, honey?

We – we worked, all of us, today, on empathic p- p- ro-OH!- jections with the fern.

Yan, I’m feeding you... lobster ravioli from god’s own kitchen, and.. mm, you.. want to talk about ferns?

WE – oh. Yes, we definitely should. Mmm – yes, more please...

‘Kay. If you’re... absolutely... certain.

Sir, god, yes, I’dliketofinish– Jack!

Okay – we’ll talk about ferns. And you can feed me some of your marsala, since you’re so... enamored of my ravioli.

I thought, at the house, you tried projecting – mmm – comfort at it. Or something similar.

Yes, well, close enough, anyway. – Hmmm. Some of the chicken, if you don’t mind. No, sweetheart, NO forks.

People will stare.

It’s late, Yan, the only ones here are Silvio and the cooks, and they’re inside. Relax, honey. Have another taste.

I – I – think it also reacted to Owen – fear and hostility. When it grabbed him, reacted aggressively.

Mm-hmmm. But it held him out of the way.

Yes, it – oh. It didn’t react violently. And I’m sure it was playing with the dog.

Playing?

Sir, if the dog were my Aunt Imelda’s calico, it would have gone mad for those dangling vines. I think the dog was getting the hang of it as well, whatever Mrs. ap Williams thought.

Hmmm. You’re entirely too coherent, you know. Want another bite? Oh - yes, Ianto, that’s... that’s really good. Really really. Mmm. Tell me about Gwen.

Er - what?

About Gwen and Tosh. I saw them go in at one point.

They, yes, they... oh, that’s lovely...

Gwen and Tosh?

Yesss, ohhh, sir - It didn’t respond to Gwen at all – I’m only a rank-1 empath, but I couldn’t feel anything off her either. But I never have.

I think her abilities – oh, nip my nose, will you? we’ll ruin that silk tie, gorgeous, but I’ll play – her abilities lie elsewhere. Mmm. You’ve got marsala on your chin.

And you’ve got it on your cheek. Hold still... Tosh – it didn’t notice Tosh, but then she touched it, and it was as if the whole plant woke up and focused.

Interesting. What did it actually do when she touched it?

Directed more leaves and those frond, stalk, things over to her. It was like watching a dance. She would touch each leaf or frond or whatever reached out, and it would shiver, retreat, then come back.

Like this? Show me.

More like – here... Oh. Yes. Well, ah! not there. I think a few of the frond-things touched her independently. Her hair, her hands, and maybe her face?

Hmmm. Was she smiling? Happy?

Delighted. You know Tosh, it’s a new toy.

Yep – give her something she hasn’t seen before and she’ll play for hours. Ah, we’ve nearly finished the wine – looks like – we’ll have to share the last of it.

... ah... j... mmmm...

Very mmmm. You always taste so good with reds. Kiss me again, Yan. Don’t be... so... stubborn...

...s- s- still... in public... sir...

So we are... Well. Ferns... Owen’s notes said that it rotated to follow you, extended tendrils out, when you were working on projecting at it.

...Yes, well, it... I...

Yan?

I was... I...

Honey, you’re blushing. You only blush like that when... Well, well, Ianto Jones. What WERE you thinking about?

I don’t think we need discuss it, sir. Your... ego appears to be big enough already.

OH, I think we do need. Have another ravioli.

That’s hardly playing fair, sir, I – mmmm. Oooohhhhhh...

That’s it, beautiful, tell me what wicked thoughts you were having...

I... I was bored. I was walking around, projecting at the plant – anger, happiness, sadness, whatever I could try – and I wasn’t feeling any response from it.

It wasn’t... registering... the emotions?

My attention was wandering, and I wasn’t really focusing on – ooohhh – what I was doing, I’m afraid. I happened to look up, and you were standing on the walkway drinking your coffee.

Coffee.

Yes. And I... I started thinking about your...

Mm-hmm?

About your mouth. I started thinking about you kissing me.

Did you. About doing this?

... Jack...

Or possibly... a little...

OH. yes... that’s when it started to –

And It responded to you thinking about... fantasizing about... us?

I...

About this?

S-s-s-SIR. yes. it – hhh – it was –

“Silvio!”

Hhhah - Jack? What are you doing?

Science waits for no man. “Silvio, something’s come up – can you get the check for us?”

Jack, we haven’t even finished dinner.

OOOOH, right, good idea. “And an order of tiramisu, to go!”

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Link to previous Faithful!Verse stories

Crossposted to jackxianto, torchwoodslash