I don’t own Torchwood or Buffy the Vampire Slayer … I do however own the cracked story idea – and proud of it, thankyouverymuch!  I don’t own the title of this story either, however, that was thought up by the wonderful </a></b></a>ickle18(I say wonderful because anyone who can come up with this title must be), the daughter of </a></b></a>missthingsplace</a></a>  THANK YOU!

Saturday 27th July
18:41

“Coward.”

 “Would you quit saying that?”

 “No. Coward.”

Ianto rounded on Jack. “Stop it!”

 “But you are a coward. Even your sister agreed.  You’re a cowardy, cowardy custard!”

 “Okay, just because my sister started chanting that by the front door does not give you clearance to start singing it!”

 “Come on, Ianto, what would it have taken to say ‘he’s my partner’?  But no, you said best friend. Are you ashamed of me or something?”

Sighing, Ianto leant back in his seat in his car and sighed. “No,” he promised. “I just ...” He paused. “Hang on ... why are you driving?”  He had followed Jack out of the house and sat in the passenger seat on autopilot.

 “I drive better than you.”

 “This is my car!” Ianto sighed. “Are we going to the hub?”

Jack nodded. “I don't like leaving them alone for too long.”

“Buffy won’t be happy,” Ianto informed him. “She was looking forward to her leadership buzz.”  The car pulled up in the car park and Jack and Ianto got out, starting off towards the tourist office.

 “Well, she’ll get over it.  Ianto ... I want you to answer me, honestly. Are you ashamed of us?” He pointed at the two of them to imply what he meant.

 “No!  No, Jack ... I’m not ashamed.  I’m just scared of my parents’ reaction.  I will tell them about us. I promise.” Jack eyed him suspiciously as he hit the button inside the tourist office to open the doorway. “I promise.”  He walked over to Jack and kissed him softly. “Now let’s go see if Torchwood has been destroyed from the inside yet.”

Laughing, the two of them walked through the corridor, went down the lift and waited for the cog to slide to one side.  When it did, they stepped inside.

Their laughter ceased instantly, being replaced by surprise.

Buffy and Owen were sat on the autopsy trolley, caked in mud and green slime.  Xander and Anya were using the computers, their clothing covered with and their hair full of the same green slime. Gwen was sitting on the sofa, looking thoroughly pissed off, a large bandage around her ribs and her hair going in all different directions thanks to the dried green goop.

Ianto was the first to react to the scene. He laughed. Soon, Jack had joined him, laughing just as hard over the five of them, all glowering at each other (except Buffy and Owen, who were just ignoring each other’s existence).  “What ... what happened?” Jack spluttered, through laughter.

Buffy jumped off the autopsy table, walked up to Jack and emptied a bucket of green goop over his head. “Next time,” she said, frostily, “lead your own damn team.”

17:19

Buffy stepped out of Jack’s shower and wrapped a towel around her waist and hair before walking into his ex-bedroom. “I said I was sorry,” she said, for the fourth time in ten minutes, to Jack, who was sat on his bed with a towel draped around his waist.

 “It wasn’t my fault you went after this demon and it turned out to have little green gloopy buddies,” Jack grumbled, rubbing his hair with the towel.  He’d been trying to get the last of the goop out of his hair all the time Buffy had been using his shower.

 “Yeah, but it’s your bloody rift’s fault that we were brought to Cardiff, where it never seems to stop raining!” Buffy griped, shaking out her hair.

 “It’s not that bad,” he said, tossing a hairdryer at her.

 “I have always hated Slaying in the rain. Whenever I ended up hitting the ground I’d end up muddy.  Do you have any idea how hard it is to get mud out of my jacket?”  She sighed. “Let alone unidentifiable green alien gloop.”

At that moment, Ianto descended the ladder carrying two sets of clothes. “Here,” he said, tossing one set at Buffy and one at Jack.

 “Thanks, Ianto,” Buffy said, retreating back into the bathroom to put the clothes on.

 “Owen wants to know when he can use the shower,” Ianto informed Jack. “And I told you that you should keep a spare set of clothes here...”

Jack rolled his eyes. “I wanted to move into your flat completely, not leave half my stuff in the hub.”

Ianto sat down on the bed as Jack pulled on his clothes.  “You are the only person I’ve ever known who can still look gorgeous even with congealed green goop in your hair.” Jack grinned at him. “But, then again, I’ve never known anyone else end up with congealed green goop in their hair.” The grin faded to be replaced with a scowl.  Ianto laughed and kissed Jack. “I’ll tell Owen he can use the bathroom next.”

Still scowling, Jack grumbled, “Alright,” and stared at Ianto’s backside as he climbed up the ladder, a faraway look on his face. “I could die happy with that image in my head,” he said, with a sigh.  “If I could die.”

As Ianto reached the top of the ladder, his phone beeped to alert him that he had a new text message.  He flipped open the phone, grumbling to himself that Jack had, yet again, changed his ring tone, and read the message.

U r a biger coward than I thort! I cant believe u didn’t even tell mum Jack was ur boss!

Ianto rolled his eyes and texted his sister back.

If I’d told her he was my boss, it would have made the whole ‘he’s living with me and sharing my bed’ conversation harder.

It took him five minutes to write the text as he opposed short-hand and didn’t text very often.  His sister, however, sent fifty text messages an hour on a slow day, and had replied within seconds.

U didnt even tell em! So wat wud it have mattered?!

Ianto rolled his eyes, deciding to not even try and respond to that as he closed his phone and put it in his pocket, wandering across the hub towards Owen. “You can use the shower once Buffy is done with it,” he informed the muddy doctor, who glowered darkly at him and muttered something about women taking forever in bathrooms.

Ianto chuckled as he approached Anya, who was still caked in goop. “While you’re waiting for access to the bathroom,” he said, “would you like a cup of coffee?” Anya glowered darkly at him.  “I’ll take that as a no...”

17:39

 “We really should make an appearance,” Tosh said, softly, running her fingers through Willow’s hair as she lay on top of her chest, both of them completely naked. “We’ve celebrated for eight hours on and off now ... I think work is a good idea.”

 “Or we could say you still weren’t feeling well and hang around here for longer ... then we could move my stuff over here tomorrow morning and make an appearance around lunchtime?” Willow asked, tracing lazy circles around Tosh’s navel.

 “Will ...” Tosh whined. “I miss my computer and my translation programs ... and my laptop. I want my laptop back!”

Willow pulled a face, sitting up in bed to look at Tosh. “Fine,” she said, irritably. “We’ll go into work for a few hours, then come home.”

Tosh nodded. “That sounds like a plan.”

18:27

 “Are you okay?”

 “No. I can’t get this goop out of my hair – and it’s your fault my favourite jacket got covered in mud.” Buffy turned around to glower at Owen. “Why did you tackle me like that? I’m the slayer! I can look after myself!”

 “You were about to have you head lopped off,” Owen replied, deadpan.

 “And I was going to duck ... eventually,” Buffy griped as she pulled out some more sticky goo. The autopsy trolley grumbled as Owen sat down on the metal next to her, grabbing some bottle from nearby and putting a little of the liquid on his fingers.
“Hold still,” he said, surprisingly softly, reaching out and stroking his fingers through her hair, separating the sticky strands from each other.  Buffy closed her eyes and relaxed, enjoying the attention.

 “What are you using?” she asked.

 “It’s an alien compound we found,” Owen informed her. “I ran some tests on it ... it’s a shampoo, basically, that burns away dirt. I made sure it didn’t hurt skin or hair before using it on anything.”

Buffy smiled mildly as she felt Owen’s fingers removing the green slime. “It feels nice,” she said with a sigh, leaning towards him slightly.

 “I’m sorry I pushed you into the mud,” Owen said, with a grin. “I thought you were about to die.”  Buffy sighed contentedly, but said nothing. “Thanks for trying to save my life, Owen! No problem, Buffy ...”

Giggling, Buffy said, “Thank you for trying to save my life. You owe me a leather jacket.” She leant back as Owen worked his fingers through her fringe from behind, leaning her head on his chest.

 “Can’t I work it off some other way?” Owen purred in her ear, and was gratified to feel a shiver go through her.

 “Owen ... I ...” Buffy started, but at that moment the cog door opened and Spike swaggered in.

She hopped off the autopsy trolley and ran up the steps towards Spike, who greeted her with, “What the bloody hell happened to you?”

Buffy made a small whining sound. “It’s that noticeable?” she asked, in a small voice.

 “Well, yeah, love ... you’re wearing green frills,” Spike pointed out, gesturing at her shirt.

 “Oh ... oh! Yes ... we had a small run in.” She gestured at Xander and Anya, who were still covered in mud, waiting for Gwen to be done in the shower. “I had to borrow some of Gwen’s clothes.” She pulled a face. “She has no fashion sense.”

Spike grinned and pulled her in to kiss her, softly. “You look sexy anyway,” he complimented her, making her laugh.  A bottle came sailing towards her head through the air and she caught it without looking. “Thanks Owen,” she called out, not looking his way. “Mind helping me with this?” she asked Spike.

 “What is it?”

 “Alien shampoo. It gets this green stuff out of my hair.” She pulled a strand of her blonde hair out in front of her face and glared at it, going cross-eyed in the process. 

Spike was about to agree to helping her, when Jack strode across. “You want to tell me what happened exactly now?” he asked, picking green goop out of the front of his hair as he walked.

Buffy sighed. “Fine,” she said, throwing the bottle back at Owen, who failed to catch it, being conked on the head instead.  Glowering darkly at her, he picked it up from the floor, rubbed his forehead, and went back to whatever he was doing.  Buffy kissed Spike on the cheek and wandered off into Jack’s office, where she sat on the chair with a sigh.

 “Alright, talk,” Jack said, after a moment.

 “I came in and Gwen assaulted me immediately, saying there was a M'Fashnik demon on the loose robbing banks.  So me, Owen and my axe took the SUV out to kill this demon. The problem was, though, that this M'Fashnik demon had a posse with him. These four green ... things ... which attacked us.  Owen, being Owen, began firing his gun at them, which achieved a massive nothing ...”

 “Of course.”

 “... so after trying to get these demons or aliens or whatever they were for twenty minutes, we called in the others as Xander and Anya had arrived.  Gwen, Xander and Anya turned up just as one of the green things almost lopped my head off. Owen, being the hero he isn’t, shoved me, rolling us through the mud to avoid my unlikely decapitation.”

Jack blinked, but decided not to comment.

 “Gwen, Xander and Anya charged in, falling all over the place, rolling in the mud in Gwen’s case, and hacking, slashing, shooting ... it was quite ...”

 “Exciting?”

 “Stupid.”

 “Oh.”

 “Anya, finally, was the one that announced there was a little black dot on the green things’ chests, and we had to stab it right there to kill it.” She paused. “Very strange, in my opinion. I mean, who has a ‘stab here to kill me’ sign on them?” She pulled a face. “Weird.” She took a deep breath. “Anyway ... so Xander, Gwen and I charged them ... I stabbed two, straight through their stupid dots, and they ... exploded ... showering us with the green goop.  Owen took two buckets of it back to the hub for experiments and we had to try and dispose of the bodies. Which wasn’t fun ... digging in the rain is never nice.”

 “You buried them?”

 “Yep ... wasn’t anything else we could do.” Jack nodded as he leaned back in his chair, trying to stop himself from laughing. Buffy rolled his eyes. “I know it was funny. Laugh if you want.”  Jack grinned.

 “I’m not going to laugh,” he said. “Although, I have to say, the idea of the five of you getting showered with gloop and rolling in the mud is comical.”

 “How was your day off?” Buffy asked, changing the subject.

Jack shrugged. “I met Ianto’s parents,” he said, surprised by his own honesty. Usually he kept everything to himself, but he found himself talking to Buffy more and more.  “He was supposed to be introducing me as his partner ...”

 “But he didn’t?”

Jack sighed. “No, he didn’t.”

 “And you’re disappointed.”

 “Yes.” Jack leaned forward, putting his elbows on his desk and resting his chin on his knuckles. “It’s like he’s ashamed of us.”

Buffy nodded. “Maybe ... maybe he just doesn’t know how to tell those he loves that he’s in a ... nonstandard ... relationship.  Trust me, I’ve been there.”

 “But you faced it,” Jack said. “You just ... revealed yourself and Spike.”

 “And look where that got me,” Buffy said. “Xander hasn’t spoken to me properly for four months. I’m sure Ianto has noticed that ... maybe he just doesn’t want to risk the same thing happening to him with his family.”

 “So it’s your fault then?” Jack said, with a grin and a wink.

Buffy rolled her eyes. “I guess it is,” she said, running her fingers through her hair and coming back with green gloop. “This is getting ridiculous,” she commented, annoyed. “I’m sorry I threw a bucket of slime over your head, by the way,” she said, quietly, making Jack chuckle.

 “That’s slime under the bridge,” he said. Then, after a pause, he commented, “I noticed you and Owen have grown close.”

 “Yeah, we’re friends,” Buffy replied. “Sometimes.”

 “Be careful...” Jack warned her, his eyes telling her he was being absolutely serious.

 “Of what?” Buffy responded, letting go of her hair and focussing on Jack. “He’s not an alien is he?”

Jack laughed a bit before answering, “Not as far as I know, no. Just ... be careful.” Jack smiled at her. “For me.”

There was a knock on the office door and Buffy stood up. “I’ll ... keep that in mind,” she said, before walking to the door and opening it. “He’s all yours,” she told Ianto, who smirked and walked past her, sitting down on the desk, looking down at Jack.

 “Guess what?” he said.

 “What?”

 “My parents have invited me to Sunday lunch tomorrow,” he said. “And I thought you could come, too.” He smiled at Jack. “I can come clean.”

 “You don't have to,” Jack informed him. “Not if you’re worried about how they’ll react.”

 “Oh, I’m not worried.” Jack quirked an eyebrow at Ianto. “I’m terrified of how they’ll react.”

Jack smirked. “They’ll be fine. We’ll win them over with the combined Harkness-Jones charm.”

Ianto grinned. “I like that,” he said.

 “What?”

 “Harkness-Jones.” Smiling, Ianto bent down to kiss Jack gently. “It has a nice ring to it.”

Jack smiled back. “It does, doesn’t it?”

 “I was thinking ...” Ianto said, quietly. “Back when you told me about Cole ... I suggested that maybe we could try for ...” The office door swung open and Faith stormed in, the door smashing against the wall with the power she hit it with.

 “What the hell is this?” she demanded, throwing a slip of paper down on the desk.

Jack looked apologetically at Ianto, who sighed and stood up. “Faith, Ianto and I were talking ... kindly come back later,” Jack snapped.

 “It’s fine,” Ianto said, hastily. “It wasn’t anything important.” Jack looked sceptical.

 “You mentioned Cole, Ianto,” Jack said. “That makes it important.”

Ianto shook his head, backing towards the door. “No, no, really, it wasn’t even slightly important. Not even slightly.” He mumbled something more as he fled through the door, although Jack didn’t catch it.

Seconds later he was back, poking his head around the door frame. “So ... tomorrow ... lunch ... yes?”

 “Yes,” Jack replied. “Lunch.”

Nodding almost erratically, Ianto ran away again.

Jack picked up the piece of paper, glancing at it briefly. “It’s a warning,” he said.

 “Read it,” Faith commanded.

 “I don't have to,” Jack retorted, annoyed. “I wrote it.”

 “You’re threatening to RetCon me!”

 “If you don't stop telling strangers you meet in bars about Torchwood, yep, I am.”

 “How dare you? You’re willing to leave me alone in Cardiff, with no memory of anything to do with Torchwood or being the Slayer?!”

Jack nodded. “Yep.”

Infuriated, Faith leant forward over the desk, obviously trying to intimidate Jack. It didn’t work. “It is my choice who I tell about my work,” she snarled.

 “No, it’s not,” Jack informed her. “You put everyone’s life in danger every time the words ‘alien’, ‘demon’ and ‘Torchwood’ leave that mouth. It may help you persuade some random guy …” He glanced at the paper. “… or girl …” he amended, “… to come home with you, but it endangers us.” Faith growled, angrily and Jack stood up, standing inches from her, staring into her face. “I don’t have a problem with you having an active sex life. Hey, I sailed through a whole century shagging every pretty face I saw.” Faith raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. “But unless you stop running of at the mouth ... I will RetCon you and leave you in the street. And, you know what? I might even leave you thinking you’re a nun! You have the name for it, after all.”

Grabbing the sheet of paper, Faith yelled, “Fuck you!” and stormed out of the office, leaving Jack to lean against his desk and sigh.  It took only seconds for Buffy to arrive in the doorway.

 “Don't say I didn’t warn ya,” she said, with a grin. He glowered good-temperedly at her and she giggled before leaving again.

Jack sighed again. He couldn’t help thinking that he did not sign on for this. Well, he didn’t really have a choice to sign on, but that wasn’t the point.  If he’d known he’d be trying to run this lot ... he probably would have chosen to stay in the vaults for all eternity.  

Anything had to be less stressful than this.

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