Title: Workplace Hazards
Author: halfspokenwords
Pairings: Jack/Ianto, Tosh
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 865
Summary: On the dangers of office relationships, particularly when the office in question is Torchwood Three.

***

"Here," Ianto mumbled against Jack's mouth, pushing him back until his shoulders bumped against the nearest filing cabinet. Jack acquiesced, allowing Ianto to set the pace of lips, tongue, grinding hips. The kiss was fierce, a crash of teeth and wordless pleas for more into each other's mouths.

While Ianto concentrated on the other man's shirt, wanting more skin, more touch, Jack had one hand at his back, beneath the jacket, and one teasing at his belt. When he could no longer hold back, he tightened his hold and slid a hand beneath the waistband of Ianto's trousers--

And something cold hit them both, spreading large quantities of unfamiliar green foam in the process.

Ianto was rarely armed within the Hub; he instinctively moved to one side as Jack pulled his gun in the split second that followed. As he did, he noted that his shoes made a rather unattractive squelch against the floor.

"It's all right, it's me," the culprit called, causing Jack and Ianto to exchange glances-- first both were surprised, but slowly the latter turned to discomfort. Their attacker was Toshiko, holding a modified fire extinguisher as if it were a rifle.

Jack stood still for a pause, looking like he couldn't decide whether to raise his hands in surrender or take disciplinary action. Meanwhile, Ianto occupied himself with the removal of the largest bits of foam, which had taken quite well to clinging to one of his favorite suits. His breathing, quickened from the kiss, slowly calmed, and he with it.

"What--" And just like that, Jack seemed to find his words. "Let me tell you, now that's what I call ruining the mood. Foam; that's a new one." He reached up to wipe a handful from where it stuck gracelessly to his cheek.

"Sorry," Tosh huffed, revealing that she was out of breath-- and, as Ianto realised with detached interest, suspiciously missing the jacket she'd been wearing when she arrived this morning. "I didn't have time to explain."

"Well, explain now."

"Pheromone gas." She put down the extinguisher, sheepishly, and tucked some hair behind one ear. "We're getting reports from all over Cardiff. Owen and I put these together, based on the last exposure to this kind of gas; the spray should render the pheromones inert."

"Good work," Jack said, seemingly honestly; far be it from him to be ashamed of being indisposed during a-- albeit minor-- crisis. He was rewarded with a smile. "So, tell me why you're down here spraying us inside of up there spraying them?"

"Neither of you were answering your comms--" Jack held up one finger in a 'wait' gesture, then pulled two earpieces from his pocket. Ianto retrieved one and tried to clean it off with his fingers, only to find that the attempt made it that much worse. Tosh ducked her head and went on, "So I looked for you on the CCTV."

"We're in a blind spot," Ianto protested mildly. At the glances from the other two, he shrugged. "I know the internal surveillance systems better than anyone."

"I couldn't track you, so I ran a thermal scan. It's protocol when team members aren't responding."

"Yeah, thanks." Jack rolled his eyes. "I'm starting to regret my own rules."

"From the readings, it looked as if you were-- as if you were compromised."

"We were," Ianto supplied quickly-- too quickly, but that didn't appear to be too obvious. "Must have been."

In the brief and slightly awkward silence that followed, he once again turned his attention to his suit. It was near ruined; the foam had a smell, too, which he hadn't noticed at first. As he began to inspect the immediate vicinity for damages to the archives, he was vaguely aware of Tosh fidgeting, looking like she wished she had something to say.

Finally, she found something. "Owen and Gwen are out, hopefully containing the largest outbreaks. They took both SUVs, should be reporting in soon."

"Right. Good. You keep working on that. I'm--" Jack looked down at himself, soaked and green, and sighed. "Going to go get cleaned up. If my coat's ruined, Tosh..."

"I'll run it to the dry cleaners, sir," Ianto offered quietly, self-consciously tugging at his own cuffs and closing the file drawer. "Before it dries."

"Sorry, Jack." Tosh gave them both a faint smile, hefted up the fire extinguisher once again, and then headed off toward the main area of the Hub.

As she got further away, Jack cast one more mournful look at his greatcoat and crossed his arms. His expression, which was fixed on Ianto, suddenly turned to one of amusement. "You know, we could have just told her."

"I know. But I didn't have the heart." Ianto half-smiled and shook his head as he reached to help unbutton Jack's half-open, thoroughly soaked shirt. "Should I take this too?"

Jack chuckled and caught his hand, fingers relentlessly stroking the inside of his wrist. "Change of plans," he murmured as there was an audible hitch in Ianto's breathing. "Cleaners can wait. Fancy joining me for that shower?"

"Yes, sir," was all Ianto could manage before his back was against a wall and Jack's hands were slowly stripping him of his suit.

***