Jack places the lead-lined black box on Tosh's desk and makes a face as he drops a piece of rotting turkey in with a set of tongs.
"This thing is attracted... to meat, Jack?" she asks.
"Yeah. And it's cornered. Put this in the room, pull back and observe from a distance - and when it's in the box cover it and seal it very carefully."
"Is it that dangerous?" Ianto asks.
"It won't kill you," Jack replies, "but... just seal the box, all right? Toshiko, take Ianto with you."
As billed, the alien form - a small quadriped with an alarming number of eyes - slithers into the box almost as soon as it senses the bait.
Ianto rushes in, drops the lid on the container and bundles it into the back of the SUV as Tosh calms the freaked-out owner of the music shop with gentle words and a Starbucks triple-mocha latte laced with Retcon.
"Hold on," Tosh says, her hand on Ianto's sleeve, when they return to the alley where they'd parked. "I've noticed something odd." She clambers into the backseat of the SUV and punches a command into the touchscreen interface. "Give me a hand, will you?"
Obligingly, Ianto gets into the backseat and shuts the door. Tosh motions for him to hold the screen steady as she makes adjustments. As he leans in, he catches the scent of her perfume and inhales. She smells of sweet pears and... flowers, perhaps. His gaze skips along her profile to study the fine line of her jaw.
And then a sound - a hiss from the back of the vehicle- competes with the beeps Tosh is calling forth from the touchscreen.
"Sounds angry," he says, before he hears Tosh cough and his vision swims - a miasma of golden lights. Ianto loses his grip on the screen and leans backward, grabbing Tosh from behind as he does and pulling her away from the interface.
"What- " she begins, and her voice sounds as if she is very far away.
His hands grasps her hips, eyes on the straight seam bisecting her bottom, close enough to count each machine-made stitch in the grey gabardine, he suddenly wants to... press his lips to the fabric, so he does. Her spine straightens and he can hear her intake of breath.
"Ianto?"
And then she is spinning in his arms and slipping beneath him, hands sliding up his chest and her lips seeking his as their legs tangle against the cool leather of the seat. She is kissing him and he is desperate to kiss her back and it's suddenly so perfect so good so warm and he feels as if his chest will burst unless-
His palm slips hard and fast along her thigh and beneath fabric to find warmth and his fingers loop beneath a scrap of silk and tear it away, plunge inside. Oh God, it's Tosh. Tosh... he thinks - and she's so wet and the taste of her tongue is delicious and she's pulling... pulling at his belt, both hands intent on their task until he is free and they're wrapping around him and he lifts his head and moans.
"Tosh. I want..."
"Yes. Yesyesyes," comes her harsh whisper in reply as her thumb rolls softly against the tip of his cock and he gasps, pushes the skirt up further and pulls her hips roughly upward as he pushes inside and oh... yes. This. This is heaven and the air is golden, like fairy dust, he thinks with wonder, as they begin to move in rhythm.
"Feels... so good," she murmurs as her hand twists around his tie and she pulls him to her to seal her lips to his again, right before she shifts her hips and tightens her muscles and he groans and speeds in response, falling into the sensation like he's tipping off a cliff as she drops her head back and bares the fine skin of her throat and tumbles after.
Torchwood: Ianto/Tosh (AMTDI, SUV) 1/2
"This thing is attracted... to meat, Jack?" she asks.
"Yeah. And it's cornered. Put this in the room, pull back and observe from a distance - and when it's in the box cover it and seal it very carefully."
"Is it that dangerous?" Ianto asks.
"It won't kill you," Jack replies, "but... just seal the box, all right? Toshiko, take Ianto with you."
As billed, the alien form - a small quadriped with an alarming number of eyes - slithers into the box almost as soon as it senses the bait.
Ianto rushes in, drops the lid on the container and bundles it into the back of the SUV as Tosh calms the freaked-out owner of the music shop with gentle words and a Starbucks triple-mocha latte laced with Retcon.
"Hold on," Tosh says, her hand on Ianto's sleeve, when they return to the alley where they'd parked. "I've noticed something odd." She clambers into the backseat of the SUV and punches a command into the touchscreen interface. "Give me a hand, will you?"
Obligingly, Ianto gets into the backseat and shuts the door. Tosh motions for him to hold the screen steady as she makes adjustments. As he leans in, he catches the scent of her perfume and inhales. She smells of sweet pears and... flowers, perhaps. His gaze skips along her profile to study the fine line of her jaw.
And then a sound - a hiss from the back of the vehicle- competes with the beeps Tosh is calling forth from the touchscreen.
"Sounds angry," he says, before he hears Tosh cough and his vision swims - a miasma of golden lights. Ianto loses his grip on the screen and leans backward, grabbing Tosh from behind as he does and pulling her away from the interface.
"What- " she begins, and her voice sounds as if she is very far away.
His hands grasps her hips, eyes on the straight seam bisecting her bottom, close enough to count each machine-made stitch in the grey gabardine, he suddenly wants to... press his lips to the fabric, so he does. Her spine straightens and he can hear her intake of breath.
"Ianto?"
And then she is spinning in his arms and slipping beneath him, hands sliding up his chest and her lips seeking his as their legs tangle against the cool leather of the seat. She is kissing him and he is desperate to kiss her back and it's suddenly so perfect so good so warm and he feels as if his chest will burst unless-
His palm slips hard and fast along her thigh and beneath fabric to find warmth and his fingers loop beneath a scrap of silk and tear it away, plunge inside. Oh God, it's Tosh. Tosh... he thinks - and she's so wet and the taste of her tongue is delicious and she's pulling... pulling at his belt, both hands intent on their task until he is free and they're wrapping around him and he lifts his head and moans.
"Tosh. I want..."
"Yes. Yesyesyes," comes her harsh whisper in reply as her thumb rolls softly against the tip of his cock and he gasps, pushes the skirt up further and pulls her hips roughly upward as he pushes inside and oh... yes. This. This is heaven and the air is golden, like fairy dust, he thinks with wonder, as they begin to move in rhythm.
"Feels... so good," she murmurs as her hand twists around his tie and she pulls him to her to seal her lips to his again, right before she shifts her hips and tightens her muscles and he groans and speeds in response, falling into the sensation like he's tipping off a cliff as she drops her head back and bares the fine skin of her throat and tumbles after.