InsaneJournal

WHO: Jack Harkness & Ianto Jones
WHAT: Good morning sunshine! Have a mutilated body in your bed!
WHERE: the Museum
WHEN: early morning; day 23.
RATING: G rated of course! Would I lie?
STATUS: Active


There had been a multitude of things running through Jack's head lately as he tossed and turned in their bed. Well, not so much tossing and turning as holding tight to Ianto and staring blankly out into space. Right then. The talk of zombies the past few days had been one that was less than pleasant. Jack knew he had taken the coward's way out and hid but this? This was one thing he didn't know if his body coul handle. so in this instance, he had thought it better to err on the side of caution and stay where he knew he was safe.

Now, though... if they were still around, Jack was ready to start kicking ass and taking names. Shoot first, ask questions later -- which would have been all well and good had Jack had a pistol in his possession.

Right, then.

Jack nestled closer to Ianto, an arm curled protectively around his lover's waist and kept him pulled in against his chest. It was strange -- for so many Vas Captio was a place of horror -- which it was for the two of them, mind. But at the same time, it was a place that had pulled them even closer together as of late. Things Rose had said -- had chided him on, even were starting to sink in bit by bit.

Yes, Jack was completely aware of just how deep he'd gotten over the past few weeks. Amazing what a state of constant fear would do to a person. He, however, did not want to admit to Rose that she was right, damn her.

And what was that?

Frowning, Jack almost gagged on a scent he knew far too well: decomposing flesh. There wasn't anything like it in the world. Turning his head, Jack found himself looking into the lifeless eyes of one Martha Jones.

"Fuck," Jack swore, hips pushing Ianto to get him to move. "Ianto, whatever you do, don't look behind me."