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Who: Ianto and House.
What: Who knows.
Where: Kitchen area.
When: March 16, evening.
Rating: TBD.
Status: Started.
He didn't know why the conversation with the new man had put him so on edge, but it had. This was why he didn't talk to people much. They always made him feel uneasy and he could practically feel the anxiety like a cloying taste in the back of his throat. He didn't want to have a panic attack while talking to the other man, even though he knew Jack couldn't see him, and he'd retreated as quickly as possible to his sanctuary. Not his room. No. His room was safe, but it wasn't peaceful like this.
He stood in the kitchen, making tea on a sort of autopilot. He didn't drink it, but the routine of it helped to calm him down. Making hot drinks. He'd done that before. One of his administrative responsibilities at Torchwood One. But best not to think about that. He just prepared the kettle to make tea, and while the kettle was on he made coffee. When the kettle was ready, he poured the water into mugs and, watching as it slowly turned the perfect shade and he removed the tea bags, tossing them out. He preferred real tea, remembered a time when he had made proper tea, but that was a long time ago and beggers can't be choosers. He poured the coffee into cups too, not right but better than instant, adding milk and sugar. He stopped, staring at the cups on the counter. A waste really. Now he'd wash them out and start again.
What: Who knows.
Where: Kitchen area.
When: March 16, evening.
Rating: TBD.
Status: Started.
He didn't know why the conversation with the new man had put him so on edge, but it had. This was why he didn't talk to people much. They always made him feel uneasy and he could practically feel the anxiety like a cloying taste in the back of his throat. He didn't want to have a panic attack while talking to the other man, even though he knew Jack couldn't see him, and he'd retreated as quickly as possible to his sanctuary. Not his room. No. His room was safe, but it wasn't peaceful like this.
He stood in the kitchen, making tea on a sort of autopilot. He didn't drink it, but the routine of it helped to calm him down. Making hot drinks. He'd done that before. One of his administrative responsibilities at Torchwood One. But best not to think about that. He just prepared the kettle to make tea, and while the kettle was on he made coffee. When the kettle was ready, he poured the water into mugs and, watching as it slowly turned the perfect shade and he removed the tea bags, tossing them out. He preferred real tea, remembered a time when he had made proper tea, but that was a long time ago and beggers can't be choosers. He poured the coffee into cups too, not right but better than instant, adding milk and sugar. He stopped, staring at the cups on the counter. A waste really. Now he'd wash them out and start again.