Time Enough to Dance
Jul. 18th, 2008 02:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
custodianTitle: Time Enough to Dance
Disclaimer: Being a bloke who likes to slash pretty men doesn't make me RTD, I don't work for the BBC, and as much as I might like to, I don't own Jack or Ianto or any part of Torchwood. I do, however, order pizza under that name on principle.
Pairings: Jack/Ianto
Rating: PG
Notes/Summary: In which Ianto is aware of his own mortality, and Jack offers a history lesson. Written for the July 18 prompt at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
horizonssing.
If I didn't care more than words can say
If I didn't care would I feel this way?
If this isn't love then why do I thrill?
And what makes my head go 'round and 'round
While my heart stands still?
If I didn't care would it be the same?
Would my ev'ry prayer begin and end with just your name?
And would I be sure that this is love beyond compare?
Would all this be true if I didn't care for you?
-- The Ink Spots, "If I Didn't Care"
“Doo-wop?” Ianto asked with a chuckle as he brought Jack his morning coffee. “I can’t tell if you’ve gone forward or backward a decade.”
Jack took the mug and passed Ianto the record sleeve. “1939, actually. The year after Germany annexed Austria, and the same year Russia and Japan started fighting over borders. This is American, though. America didn’t get the War until 1941.”
Ianto traced his fingers over the cover of the old 78 RPM record. “This is an original pressing, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. I bought it, in –” Jack hesitated and took the sleeve back. “Well, a long time ago.”
“1939?” Ianto’s eyes glinted with mischief.
Jack chuckled. “Something like that.”
That was one thing about Jack that still caught Ianto off-guard at times. As close as they’d become, and as much as Jack had begun to share with him, Jack’s immortality would always be an impassable gulf. Even if he was lucky enough to live to see old age, he’d never do it with Jack. Not properly, at least, and not like normal people. Jack had all the time in the world.
With a determined set of his jaw, Ianto set his own coffee mug on the corner of Jack’s desk. “Gwen’s not due in for another twenty minutes or so.”
“So?”
“So,” Ianto said, and took hold of Jack’s hand. “You have time enough to dance with me.”
Disclaimer: Being a bloke who likes to slash pretty men doesn't make me RTD, I don't work for the BBC, and as much as I might like to, I don't own Jack or Ianto or any part of Torchwood. I do, however, order pizza under that name on principle.
Pairings: Jack/Ianto
Rating: PG
Notes/Summary: In which Ianto is aware of his own mortality, and Jack offers a history lesson. Written for the July 18 prompt at
horizonssing.If I didn't care would I feel this way?
If this isn't love then why do I thrill?
And what makes my head go 'round and 'round
While my heart stands still?
If I didn't care would it be the same?
Would my ev'ry prayer begin and end with just your name?
And would I be sure that this is love beyond compare?
Would all this be true if I didn't care for you?
-- The Ink Spots, "If I Didn't Care"
“Doo-wop?” Ianto asked with a chuckle as he brought Jack his morning coffee. “I can’t tell if you’ve gone forward or backward a decade.”
Jack took the mug and passed Ianto the record sleeve. “1939, actually. The year after Germany annexed Austria, and the same year Russia and Japan started fighting over borders. This is American, though. America didn’t get the War until 1941.”
Ianto traced his fingers over the cover of the old 78 RPM record. “This is an original pressing, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. I bought it, in –” Jack hesitated and took the sleeve back. “Well, a long time ago.”
“1939?” Ianto’s eyes glinted with mischief.
Jack chuckled. “Something like that.”
That was one thing about Jack that still caught Ianto off-guard at times. As close as they’d become, and as much as Jack had begun to share with him, Jack’s immortality would always be an impassable gulf. Even if he was lucky enough to live to see old age, he’d never do it with Jack. Not properly, at least, and not like normal people. Jack had all the time in the world.
With a determined set of his jaw, Ianto set his own coffee mug on the corner of Jack’s desk. “Gwen’s not due in for another twenty minutes or so.”
“So?”
“So,” Ianto said, and took hold of Jack’s hand. “You have time enough to dance with me.”