Title: A Tale of Pterodactyls
By: Ceefax
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Rating: PG-13
Note: Tiny little ficlet I bashed out during an accidentally musicless bus ride.
Summary: Jack/Ianto. Myfanwy's missing, and Ianto's worried.***
It was cold on the roof, even with his own and half of Jack's coat wrapped around him. He snuggled a little closer and scanned the sky again. Jack pressed his cheek against his neck and nuzzled his way upwards. Lest he receive a tongue in his ear, Ianto turned into the kiss. The angle was awkward, and Jack, true to form, didn't tolerate that for long. He shifted onto his knees and cupped Ianto's face in his gloved hands, pulling them together and deepening the kiss.
"Mmmph... Jack..."
"Ianto?"
He pulled back, trying to look apologetic. "We'll miss her."
Pout. Puppy-dog eyes.
"Aren't you worried about her?"
Jack sat back down and slipped his arm around Ianto's waist. "It's a large, ferocious, terrifying beast. Personally, I'm more worried about whatever it decides to have for breakfast."
"She's never been gone this long before. What if she's been run over?"
"I feel sure we would have heard. From the insurance claim if nothing else."
"Maybe she got shut in somewhere."
"We could put up posters. 'Have you seen this pterodactyl? Answers to the name 'Myfanwy'. Enjoys pigeons and unattended alien body parts'."
"This isn't fucking funny. Sir."
Jack gave him an apologetic squeeze. "Tell you what, we'll hang around here 'til six, then find someplace that does breakfast, hmm? Huge mounds of grease, your favorite? And you might even persuade me to try... Hey! There it is!"
And indeed there was a large, winged, reptilian figure silhouetted against the pre-dawn glow. Jack got to his feet and dug in his pocket for binoculars.
"Er... Slight problem, sir. That's not ours."
"How many other pterodactyls do you imagine reside in Cardiff?"
"I don't know, but this one's too big, the head's the wrong shape, and... And that's Myfanwy, there."
Jack swung the binoculars to find the second winged silhouette closing quickly on the first. "Great. Just what we need. Prehistoric dogfight." He stuck the binoculars back in his pocket and buttoned his coat. "OK, call the others in. I'll take the SUV, have Gwen and Owen meet me. We'll go for breakfast afterwards." He kissed Ianto on the cheek, sprinted towards the edge of the roof...
"Yes, sir, I..."
...and plummeted.
"...really really hate it when you do that."
***
"I think, on the whole," Owen commented, taping down the bandage wrapped around Gwen's hand, "I enjoyed the first pterodactyl hunt the best. There were fewer irate bin men. Also, we had sandwiches. Ianto, your standards are slipping."
"How long until the dope wears off?" Jack asked.
"Dunno. Couple of hours, hopefully. We could just shoot it, you know."
"It's a shame we didn't get an archaeopteryx this time," Ianto observed. "That way we could've clipped its wings."
"I think it's a different species to ours," Tosh said hesitantly. "The colouring's different, and look at the shape of its beak. That's probably why they were fighting."
"I wouldn't be too sure," Jack said grimly. "I was there before you guys, and what those two were doing was definitely not fighting."
"Oh god. I'm telling you right now, Harkness, if we end up with a bloody pterodactyl breeding colony, I'm transferring to Scotland."
***
the end***
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