Title: Withdrawal
By: minimumstitch
Pairing: gen
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Torchwood is not owned by me but is owned by the BBC and RTD and I am just enjoying playing with their characters.
Summary: Ianto suffers caffeine withdrawal and the team move into red alert.

***

Ianto closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. The pressure behind his eyes seemed to be growing exponentially and his brain was the site of frequent nuclear strikes. He squeezed his eyes shut as the pain mushroomed and subsided.

He picked up the freshly made mug of coffee, and just as he raised the mug to his lips Jack's voice sounded in his ear. "Ianto, rift activity. Need you to check it out. It's probably nothing but better to be safe than sorry. I'll brief you on the way."

Ianto looked longingly at his mug and tried to ignore the way his hands shook as he picked up the keys to the SUV. With one last look at the mug, he strode out of the Tourist Office, locking up behind him.

Ianto returned two hours later carrying a small pet carrier containing a six-legged lizard the size of a Yorkshire terrier; the rifts latest gift. Ianto sighed; his pet collection was growing so fast, that he was beginning to think of setting up an animal shelter for abandoned rift pets. For just two pounds a month you could sponsor a mefuvilan raginisk. He wondered if Christopher Timothy would do the voice over for the advert.

After he had got the lizard settled in its new home, he headed towards the coffee machine. He inhaled the rich, earthy aroma as the coffee began to drip into the pot. As he handed out the coffee he glanced up at the monitor to see Janet huddled in a foetal position. He placed his mug on Gwen's desk and turned up the volume on the monitor. As soon as he heard her moans resonating with pain he turned and ran down to the cells.

He had sat with the weevil for hours, trying to find out where she was hurting. Jack and Gwen had both come down to the cells with him but had left as soon as she had begun to vomit, the stench causing them both to turn a pale shade of green.

As Ianto mopped the cell, he dreamt of a large double chocolate mocha. He could almost feel the caffeine rush. It had been almost 36 hours since his last caffeine fix. In that 36 hours he had brewed 12 pots of coffee and as yet, he had been unable to take even a single sip. He was sure the rift was conspiring with Jack and Gwen to cure him of his caffeine addiction, but he was not ready to give up just yet.

As Ianto finished cleaning the cell his comm crackled into life. "Ianto, can you come up here?" Ianto sighed and put away the mop and bucket before trudging up to Jack's office.

Jack grinned at the sight of the Welshman entering his office, but his smile dimmed and a frown creased his brow as he actually looked at the young man. Ianto looked pale, his eyes were closed in pain and Jack could see his hands trembling at his sides.

"You needed to see me?" Ianto asked.

"Yes, I need these files before tomorrow's conference with the Prime Minister. I know I've left it until the last minute, but could you be an angel? Please?" He handed Ianto a list two pages long.

"Certainly, sir. I'll get right on it. Was there anything else?" Ianto asked, trying to mask his look of frustration, it would take him hours to find the files.

"No, that's all for now." Jack dropped his attention back to the papers on his desk, effectively dismissing the young archivist. As soon as Ianto left, Jack pulled up the CCTV for the last day. He knew that it would be useless to ask Ianto what was wrong, the man was impossibly independent and refused to acknowledge any possible signs of weakness.

Jack looked through the CCTV and grimaced. Shit! He knew he didn't have long before Ianto erupted. He mentally replayed the last time Ianto had become caffeine deprived and surged out of his chair.

"Gwen. I'm going out, hold the fort and for god's sake, whatever you do, do not go near Ianto!" Jack shouted as he ran out of the hub towards the Tourist Office.

"What? Jack what's going on?" Gwen's eyes had widened in panic.

"Caffeine deprivation! At least 12 hours, possibly more." He knew he didn't have to say anything more. They wouldn't forget the last time Ianto had gone without caffeine; Gwen would have carried the scars if Jack hadn't placed himself between them; as it was it had taken Jack several hours to heal.

"Shit! Hurry!" She moved to the bank of monitors and brought up the CCTV for the archives, ready to flee if it looked like Ianto was approaching.

Jack returned in record time carrying two travel mugs. He had bypassed Starbucks and Costa's, knowing that the inferior coffee would just provoke his young lover. Instead he had gone to the small coffee place that he knew Ianto frequented. When he had explained, the girl at the counter's eyes had grown wide and she had fixed up a batch of double espresso double chocolate mochas.

"Oh thank god! You're back!" Gwen glanced at the monitor fearfully. "He's almost here."

"Here!" Jack pushed one of the travel mugs into her hand. "Just hold it out to him, no sudden movements."

Ianto left the archives, cursing. Bloody Jack Harkness, he couldn't organise a piss up in a brewery. If he thought he was getting any tonight he had another thing coming! He snarled, the pain in his head becoming unbearable.

Ianto stopped and sniffed the air. Those fucking wankers, they had been at his coffee machine. He was going to tear them apart. If they had hurt his machine, their lives wouldn't be worth living.

As the smell of coffee got stronger, so did his rage. He stalked into the hub, narrowing his eyes, sniffed the air and homed in on the scent. He barely noticed Gwen's eek! as he swiped the mug from her hand.

Ianto swallowed deeply, ignoring the burning sensation as the hot drink coated his throat. He felt his body tingling as the caffeine invaded his bloodstream. The pain in his head began to subside slowly. As he finished the first mug another one was pushed into his hand, the empty one wrestled from his grasp.

He automatically began to drink and as he did he registered the two people standing an arm's length away, ready to flee if necessary. He smiled sheepishly. "That was cutting it close."

***