Title: Of Day's Off and Unplanned Drunkenness

Author: finkpishnets

Fandom: Torchwood

Rating: PG-13

Characters/Pairing: Ianto, Gwen (some Jack)

Spoilers: post Exit Wounds

A/N: Written for such_heights who prompted day off. I don't know what happened – one minute I had all these plans for Ianto and Gwen to have a nice, serious heart to heart, and instead they decide to go get drunk. Figures. I apologise profusely for this; there really are no excuses for the sheer randomness .

The Rift has decided that, for the first time in weeks, it's going to behave itself which is both a relief and very slightly worrying. Nevertheless, Jack buggers off to God knows where, throwing a wink in Ianto and Gwen's direction and telling them to take a day off, do normal things like go get ice cream, catch a show. Ianto wonders how long it's been since Jack updated his encyclopaedia of fun activities for people under the age of eighty.

Since it's been about four years since his last lay in, Ianto's up and dressed by six a.m., bypassing his suits for the casual wear he keeps at the back of his wardrobe, and sets about cleaning his already spotless flat for something to do. By the time he realises that if he scrubs the work surfaces any longer he's going to remove paint, it's lunch time. He really doesn't know how people with normal jobs can survive without going out of their minds.

There're a few tins of soup in the back of a cupboard and one of those 'stick in the oven' baguettes in the freezer which may or may not turn out disastrously, but he figures at least it's not take away. He's just trying to remember where he keeps his can opener when there's a knock at the door, and he can't quite keep the 'oh, thank God' from slipping past his lips and he practically races to answer it.

Gwen's standing on the other side, Tesco bag in hand and a sheepish smile on her face as she offers him a bottle of wine.

"Sorry," she says, pushing passed him without invitation, "but if I'd had to sit alone in that flat for another minute I may have resorted to prank calling UNIT. Fun, but Martha wouldn't have been too impressed."

"Trust me, that may still be an option," he tells her, closing the door and putting the wine on the coffee table. "I can't remember what I used to do with my time."

"I know," Gwen agrees, unpacking groceries onto the kitchen counter. "I swear daytime TV used to be a lot more watchable and a lot less..."

"Clearly run by aliens?" Ianto suggests, pouring crisps into a bowl.

"Exactly," she snorts, handing him a sandwich. "Especially Property Ladder; gravity clearly does not exist where Sarah Beeny's tits are concerned."

This isn't the first time that Gwen and Ianto have hung out together in a non-working capacity, even before everything went to shit and they lost Tosh and Owen; during Jack's extended absence Gwen had taken it upon herself to make sure that Ianto was alright, even though he'd frequently told her he was. She'd kept him constantly occupied through a myriad of Starbucks visits and dinner invitations. Even Rhys had got in on the act, believing whatever lie Gwen had spun him, and invited Ianto to numerous rugby games and pub crawls.

"So," Ianto says when they're both seated in his living room, Gwen's legs curled underneath her on the sofa, "what exactly do people – normal people, I mean – do on their days off?"

Gwen bites her lips, forehead crinkling slightly as she thinks. "I suppose they do chores and go shopping and things," she says after a moment. "Shit, it's only been a few years and I've forgotten already."

"Bloody Torchwood," they say simultaneously with a laugh.

"We could go to a theme park," Gwen suggests after a few minutes. Ianto just raises an eyebrow. "Right, sorry, silly suggestion. Well, there's only one thing for it then."

"What?"

"We get completely and utterly pissed," she grins, the gap between her teeth making her look even more mischievous.

"Gwen, it's two o'clock in the afternoon," Ianto points out, but even as he says it he's getting to his feet to grab the glasses.

"People with normal lives can get drunk whenever they choose; we don't know when we're next going to get the opportunity so we might as well take it whilst it's here," Gwen tells him, taking her drink out of his hands.

"Works for me," Ianto says, clinking their glasses together.

Three hours later they're well and truly sloshed, the empty wine bottle joined by the gin Ianto had been given from his cousin last Christmas and six cans of lager that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

"I can't believe he did that!" Gwen giggles, sinking her face into a pillow and hiccupping loudly.

"He did," Ianto tells her, "he did. And then he said 'well, at least now we know it's a bad idea to have sex outside the stadium on game night.'"

Gwen snorts loudly, pulling her knees to her chest. "The most excitement I get is when Rhys decides we should try a new brand of condom," she says, shakily pouring herself another gin and tonic. "Not that the sex is bad. Shit, no, I mean, the sex is bloody fantastic, it's just, you know, not naked hide and seek and stadium sex."

"Thank God," Ianto mutters, stretching his legs.

"If you had to choose, would you rather shag Jack or George Clooney," Gwen asks suddenly, blinking as she sits upright.

"What?" Ianto asks, mildly confused at the question, but not enough so that he doesn't answer. "Jack."

"Okay," Gwen continues, "Jack or Brad Pitt."

"Jack."

"Jack or Angelina Jolie?"

"Angelina Jolie," he says, Gwen copying his answer a split second later and collapsing off the sofa in a fit of giggles.

"Did you ever sleep with Tosh?" she asks ten minutes later when they've both fallen into silence, sounding purely curious.

"No," Ianto says, swirling the liquid around his glass and watching as some of it sloshes over the side onto his jeans. "She was just a really good friend. Gorgeous, but just a friend."

"Hmm," Gwen murmurs, and Ianto gets the feeling that things may be about to turn serious which cannot end well with this much alcohol in their systems.

"I did sleep with Owen, though," he says with a grin, and that's all it takes to set Gwen off again.

Sometime after trying to recite the alphabet backwards and playing a rather violent game of snap which ends in a knee shaped bruise on Gwen's thigh and a bite mark on Ianto's shoulder, Gwen's phone starts ringing cheerfully. It takes them a few seconds to locate it under the armchair.

"Hullo! Gwen and Ianto's house of cross-dressing and chicken...or is that cross-dressing chickens?...Ianto, stop kicking me," she says, answering, and Ianto presses his forehead against the carpet as he continues to laugh. "Oh, hi love! No, I won't be home for a while – Ianto and I are paralytic and I don't think I should drive...What? Oh no, we're not actually cross-dressing...Yes, I promise to take pictures if I get Ianto into a dress...Okay, love you!"

"You realise he's never going to look at me the same?" Ianto says when she finally manages to hang up after the third try.

"Nope," she agrees cheerfully, swinging her arm out and hitting Ianto's hip. "I don't think I can actually move."

"I never realised how comfy my floor was," Ianto concurs.

"I never realised that when I gave you the day off you'd use it to get completely drunk," Jack says from above them, arms crossed over his chest and a look of pure amusement on his face.

"Jack!" Ianto exclaims, grinning up at him widely.

"How'd you get in?" Gwen asks, eyes wide in comical surprise, digging her elbows into Ianto's rib cage as she rolls over.

"With my key," Jack replies as if he's talking to a child, lips tugging up.

"He has a keeeeey," Gwen laughs into Ianto's chest, her breath damp against his t-shirt.

"Shuddup," Ianto groans, thumping his head backwards and knowing without a doubt that, if Gwen's hangover doesn't obliterate it, he's never going to hear the end of this one.

"I think it's rather lucky I do," Jack says, "or you two would pass out here and I'd never know why you weren't at the Hub in the morning. There would probably be panicking and calls to UNIT."

"Oooh, we never did prank call them," Gwen tells Ianto, apparently choosing to ignore Jack.

"Next time," Ianto agrees, nodding his head and then regretting it when all he can feel is painohpain behind his eyelids.

"However fun that sounds, I think it's time you two tried to sleep this off. I got a call this afternoon about a housing estate literally vanishing into thin air and I'm going to need you both on your game tomorrow."

"Aye aye, Captain!" Gwen salutes, and Ianto snorts.

Jack just sighs and goes off to call Rhys.

"You know," Jack says, forty minute later as he's holding a glass of water against Ianto's lips and trying to manoeuvre him towards the bed, "next time you and Gwen decide to get pissed and roll around together like that, I really hope you think to invite me."

"Shut up," Ianto moans, dropping his head into his hands. "It's your fault anyway. You're the one that gave us the day off."

Jack just grins.