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On What to Do With a Drunken TARDIS

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Ianto Jones never received visitors down in the Archives, simply because no one wanted to face his wrath if anything was disturbed.  He had a certain reputation around Torchwood Three as being a bit of a tyrant where the Archives were concerned, and had just recently proved it once more when Andy, their newest teammate, had stumbled down there by accident and knocked over a shelf of alien jewelry that had taken Ianto weeks to arrange in order of planet, power, and just plain prettiness.  He’d put Andy on decaf for a week and had hidden the wererabbit’s stash of spinach.  That had been a lesson that Andy had learned very quickly.

That didn’t stop Jack though, but then he liked it when Ianto punished him.

So, when a rather large and noisy blue box suddenly appeared between sections F and G, Ianto knew there was going to be trouble.

“Jack,” he said into his comm., “I think you need to get down here.”

“What is it?”  Jack whispered in his ear, a leer in his voice.

Ianto didn’t even bother to try keeping the eye rolling under control.  “If I told you that, it would be spoilers.”

“The Doctor is there?”

He knew Jack would get it.

Ianto sighed, turning off the comm., confident that Jack would be on his way.  The older immortal still had a hero worship streak for the Time Lord at least a mile long, and Ianto knew it would be best if he just got out of the way.

But, by the time Jack had found his way down, the TARDIS doors still hadn’t opened.   Ianto glanced at his lover, eyebrow raised in a manner guaranteed to turn Jack on.  “He seems to be ignoring us.”

    “No sign of him yet?’  Jack looked like he either wanted to be confused, or he wanted to throw Ianto over the nearest flat surface. 

    “Nothing.  I don’t even know which one it is.”

    Jack moved toward the TARDIS, apparently the notion of the time machine and the Time Lord visiting more exciting than a rousing game of ‘Let’s Bend Ianto into as Many Interesting Shapes as Possible in the Pursuit of Mind-Blowing Sex’…and Ianto wasn’t sure how he felt about that. 

    Oh yeah, he did.

    Darn it, Ianto flatly refused to be jealous.

    It didn’t work.

    Jack stroked the blue wood of the ship, cocking his head as if he was listening to something.  His eyebrows drew down in confusion.  “She’s…singing.”

    “She sings all the time,” Ianto said waspishly, crossing his arms and not giving in to the urge to touch the TARDIS.

    “Drinking songs?” Jack asked, trying very hard to hide a chuckle.

    Now, that got Ianto’s attention.

    He joined Jack, placing his own hand against the warm skin of the ship.  And just about swallowed his tongue in an attempt to keep from laughing out loud.

     

     

    “What do you do with a Drunken TARDIS?

    What do you do with a Drunken TARDIS?

    What do you do with a Drunken TARDIS?

    Earl-eye in the morning!”

     


    Actually, for a sentient time ship, the TARDIS had quite a nice voice.

    “Jack,” he said, disbelieving, “I think the TARDIS is shit-faced.”

     

     

    “Way hay and up she rises

    Way hay and up she rises

    Way Hay and up she rises

    Earl-eye in the morning!”

     


    “I didn’t think she could get drunk,” Jack answered, but it was obvious he’d reached the same conclusion.

     

     

    “Put her in the Archives with Captain Jack,

    Put her in the Archives with Captain Jack,

    Put her in the Archive with Captain Jack,

    Earl-eye in the morning!”

     


    That verse was accompanied by a girlish, very drunk giggle.

    “I think she’s flirting with you,” Ianto observed.  It was hard to be jealous of a sloshed spaceship.

    Jack leered.  “Who can blame her?”

     

     

    “Throw her in a cell with a Sexy Welshman,

    Throw her in a cell with a Sexy Welshman,

    Throw her in a cell with a Sexy Welshman,

    Earl-eye in the morning!”

     


    This was accompanied by yet another very girlish giggle, although this one was quite frankly coquettish.  If the ship had had eyelashes, she would certainly be batting them.

    “Now I think she’s flirting with you,” Jack teased.

    Ianto flatly refused to blush.  He removed his hand, to avoid hearing any other verses the TARDIS might have come up with.

    Jack pouted.  “You’re no fun.”

    The TARDIS door suddenly popped open, and a thin strand of golden light trickled from the opening. If Ianto stopped to consider it he’d think the TARDIS had just belched.

    “If the TARDIS is drunk,” he mused, “do you think the Doctor is too?” Now, that would have been something Ianto would have paid to see.

    “Let’s find out.”  With that, Jack stepped into the TARDIS.

    Thinking that he might be making a mistake, Ianto followed.

    He could tell immediately that this version of the TARDIS belonged to the Eleventh Doctor…he had a better sense of interior decorating than  his previous regeneration.  The control room was empty though; there was no sign of Time Lord or Companions.

    A sudden slamming sound caused both men to spin around, and found the doors now firmly shut.

    Yet another giggle sounded in both their heads, and suddenly Ianto found himself flat on the floor as the TARDIS took off.

    “Bloody hell,” he fairly shouted, “we’re being kidnapped by a smashed time ship!”

    “And she can’t fly worth shit!” Jack cried, from his own position on the jerking deck. 

    “Someone should have taken away her keys,” Ianto snarked.

    The TARDIS apparently thought that was funny, because not only did she giggle again, but she actually shimmied, and Ianto felt himself get a bit motion sick.  And he wondered, if the TARDIS threw up, what exactly would it entail? 

    That was a scary thought.

    Jack managed to get to his knees and slide across the shuddering floor, aiming for the console.  Ianto decided to leave him to it, content to try to keep from flying all over the place as the TARDIS bucked like a horse on speed.   

    There were several things that Ianto gave Jack grief about: his inability to remain mature for more than ten minutes at a time; his penchant for eating in bed and getting crumbs everywhere; and that well-used VHS copy of “Xanadu” and the fanfic Ianto had found in the Archives filed under O for ‘OTP=Kira/Danny’. 

    But, when it came down to it, Jack knew his way around futuristic technology.  He might not be able to use a toaster without blowing it up, or how to program a VCR, but give Jack a piece of future tech and he could tell you how it worked, who made it, and how to fix it if it was broken.  Ianto knew for a fact that Jack could have fixed his Vortex Manipulator a long time ago, if he hadn’t minded getting on the Doctor’s bad side by having a working time machine.

    Personally, Ianto believed the Doctor only wanted to have a monopoly on working time tech.  After all, if everyone could do it, the Time Lords wouldn’t be so special…

    Jack had almost made it when the TARDIS suddenly grew still, just as the TARDIS started mentally singing at them again.  Ianto had to wonder just where and when she’d been exposed to John Thorogood…

     

     

    “One bourbon, one scotch, one beer

    No, I ain’t seen my baby since the night before last,

    Gotta get a drink man I’m gonna get gassed…”

     


    “Too late,” Ianto muttered, getting to his feet.  He tried to ignore her, joining Jack at the console…just in time to hear what sounded very much like a burp come from the time rotor, and a thin stream of golden light that wafted upward.   “So,” he drawled, “got any idea where we are?  Or where the Doctor is?”

    “Dumped him off…he was no fun!”

    Ianto looked at Jack, and wondered if he looked as surprised as his lover did.  “Where’d you dump him off at, Gorgeous?” Jack asked.

    The TARDIS let out a noise that sounded suspiciously like a raspberry. 

    “That’s us told,” Ianto rolled his eyes.

    “Pretty boys….partyin’ with my pretty boys…love my pretty boys…”

    “I always knew the Doctor was talking out his ass when he said that the TARDIS ran away from me,” Jack crowed.  “She loves me!”

    “Doctor’s got a skinny arse…” The TARDIS blew another raspberry.  “Yan’s arse is pretty…”

    “Did she just call me ‘Yan’?” Ianto demanded, scandalized.   Just when he was starting to really like her, too!

    “But she has a point,” Jack grinned.  “Your ass is really very pretty.”

    “I am not pretty!  And my name is ‘Ianto’.  It’s not hard!”

    “No, you’re right…your ass is spectacular…magnificent…pert…”

    “Fantastic…glorious…a work of art…”

    “What is this…gang up on Ianto day?” the younger immortal snapped, although he was secretly pleased by the flattery.  He just didn’t want them to think so.

    Wait…

    “The TARDIS is hitting on me!”

    “She has good taste,” Jack said, winking.

     

     

    “As I was goin’ over the Cardiff Rift in Space

    I saw Captain Jack and his Ianto he was kissin’

    I first produced a condom and then produced my lube

    I said “Stand and Deliver, the better I can take ya – “

     


    God, now she was filking “Whisky in the Jar” with dirty lyrics…

    “Damn,” Jack said, in awe.  “She gets horny when she’s drunk!”

     

     

    “Whackin’ my Ianto-o

    Whackin’ my Jack-o

    There’s whiskey in the jar-o…”

     


    “I think we need to find her stash,” Jack said. “Anything that good, I have to try.”

    It was moments like this, when Ianto had been kidnapped by a tipsy TARDIS who insisted on putting new words to drinking songs, and who was apparently horny, that the younger immortal realized just how insane the universe truly was. 

    And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

     

    *****

     

    The TARDIS was more than willing to show them where she was getting her alcohol buzz from.

    “It’s a still!” Jack exclaimed, rushing over to examine the cobbled together apparatus that had been tucked away in what would have been a two room flat anywhere else, but was apparently a broom closet on the massive time ship, judging from the rather disheveled broom in the corner.

    The TARDIS was now humming some song Ianto didn’t recognize, but the chorus had the words “Do Wacka Do” in it, because she would suddenly belt them out at the top of her mental voice, making both men cringe.  Then she’d go back to humming.

    Jack was scampering about the still like a little child with a really neat toy.  “I wonder who made it…”

    “That nice young man, Rory,” the ship answered, then began a new song, this chorus bearing the memorable lyrics “Chug-a-lug”.

    Well…it usually was the quiet ones…

    “He’s routed the fermenting coil through the secondary circulatory system,” Jack murmured, almost in awe.  “No wonder the girl’s sloshed; that would be like giving her straight alcohol in an IV drip.”

     

     

    “Oh…I’ve got Friends in Low Places…”

     


    God…not Garth Brooks…

    “We need to unhook her,” Ianto said.  “I can’t stand the songs she’s singing any longer.”

    “Yan’s no fun,” the TARDIS said, an evident pout in her voice.

    “So, I’m the bad guy now?” He stood there, his arms crossed.  “At least I’m not calling you by some silly nickname.”

    “We do need to fix this, Gorgeous,” Jack said, sounding almost sad.  “You can’t go through time and space drunk off your extrapolator shielding.”

    “Only if you let me have some fun, first.”

    Ianto was afraid to ask, but he knew he had to.  “And what sort of fun did you have in mind?”

     

     

    *****

     

     

    Twelve hours later


    Ianto was sore in ways he hadn’t been in a very long time.

    He couldn’t move; Jack was draped over him, practically stuck to Ianto’s chest by the sheer amount of bodily fluids they’d excreted last night.  Surrounding them on the mattress were the various toys and gadgets that the TARDIS had extruded, in order to join them in their fun. 

    And yes…it had been amazingly fun.

    Never again would Ianto look at the time machine the same way.  Who would have guessed she’d be such a kinky minx?

    Ianto prodded Jack off him, in order to get up out of bed.  He desperately needed a coffee; the TARDIS might have been the one drunk, but Ianto seemed to have the hangover. 

    No…shower first.

    He’d managed to stumble to the en suite and to stand under the six showerheads that graced the glass-lined stall when Jack joined him.  That had led to a short session – without the TARDIS this time – and by the time they were clean again Ianto’s headache had subsided.

    Although it appeared the TARDIS was suffering dramatically.

    And it was dramatic, judging from the moans that followed the two men from the kitchen. 

    “Thank you for removing the still,” her usually calm voice was more of a painful croak.

    “Can I get you anything, sweetheart?” Jack asked.

    “Some of that wonderful smelling coffee would be lovely…you know just where to pour it…”

    “On my way.”  Jack took one of the mugs that Ianto had prepared and left the kitchen.

    “I would have thought you’d have asked for tea,” Ianto commented, sipping his own very hot and very tasty beverage.

    The TARDIS snorted.  “Tea is the Doctor’s drink.  I never get coffee anymore…oh, that is wonderful.  Your coffee is the best that’s ever been poured over my extrapolation matrix.”

    Jack must have made it to wherever it was he needed to pour the coffee.  “Thank you.  If you need any more…”

    “One should be plenty.  I’m already feeling better.”

    Ianto was glad.  After last night, he had an entirely new appreciation of the TARDIS.   “We should be getting back to Cardiff,” he said, feeling quite sad about it.

    “And I should be going to fetch the Doctor and his Companions.  Although…perhaps we should keep this to ourselves?  He wouldn’t understand.”

    “I think we can agree with that,” Jack said as he re-entered the kitchen.  “But if you ever want a repeat performance…”

    “I shall keep that in mind, my Captain.  And I do apologize for the bad nickname, Ianto.  Would…you object if I called you my Welshman?”

    Ianto was actually touched.  “Not at all.  And feel free to stop by anytime.”

    “I will.  With or without the Doctor.”

    “And I promise I won’t ask you about all that spoilers crap he gets up to.”

    She laughed.  “That’s good.  Although I will say it’s a good thing.”

    All in all, a very interesting time indeed.

     

     

    *****

     

     

    Three months later


    The unmistakable sound of the TARDIS tearing apart time and space in her bid to materialize cut through the Hub, sending Myfanwy into a screeching frenzy and Ianto toward the kitchen to make the inevitable tea.  Maybe he could sneak some coffee into the TARDIS…

    The time machine’s doors flew open, and the Doctor launched out of his craft with all the righteous indignation of a Grand Inquisitor.  “Jack! Ianto!” he bellowed angrily, causing Myfanwy to answer back by marking a section of floor near with Time Lord with a little gift.

    Ianto forgot the coffee, joining Jack in facing the highly irate Time Lord.  “What can we do for you?” Jack asked, trying not to look like a little kid who’d just got his hand caught in the biscuit jar.

    “Which one of you was it?” the Doctor demanded, his face gone all red.

    Ianto worried for his blood pressure.   “What do you mean?” Ianto asked serenely, even though he was highly confused by the alien’s behavior.

      “You know exactly what I mean!” The Doctor waggled a finger at them, then seemed to think twice and pulled it away.  Instead, he put his hands on his hips and tried to look intimidating.

      It would have worked if his hair hadn’t taken that opportunity to flop over his high forehead as if it had a life of its own.

      “No Doc…we don’t,” Jack said, crossing his arms over his chest.   “Why don’t you tell us what’s bothering you over tea or something – “

      “Don’t try to patronize me, Captain!” Then he spun on Ianto.  “And I thought you were better than him, Mr. Jones.  How could you?”

      “You’re going to have to make some sense,” Ianto snapped, feeling insulted for both himself and Jack.

      The Doctor looked between the two, his eyes narrowing.  “I want to know which one of you impregnated my TARDIS!”