Dogs and Cats

***

The alarm woke Rhys at six. He gave a heartfelt moan of protest and buried his face in the pillows, groping blindly at the bedside table until silence fell.

After a few minutes, Gwen kicked him. "Go on. S'the last time."

He just moaned again.

She latched on to her edge of the duvet and rolled, leaving herself in a snug cocoon, and leaving him naked and defenceless.

"Fuck's sake, woman..." He struggled to his feet and rubbed his eyes.

Gwen beamed happily, her eyes still closed. "Mmm, cosy..."

Twenty minutes later, Rhys was blinking blearily at the early morning as Ianto tugged impatiently at the lead. He tied him up outside a little sandwich shop, stood in the long but fast-moving line for coffee, and left the shop just in time to witness Ianto's altercation with an Alsatian.

The other dog was pulling at his lead, straining to get as close to Ianto as possible, and barking in a solid, furious way that suggested he could carry on all day if necessary. Ianto was sitting with his back to him, studiously ignoring his existence. As Rhys stepped towards him, meaning to get him out of there as soon as possible, Ianto got to his feet, turned around, fixed his light blue eyes on the other dog, and gave a low, threatening growl that had Rhys stepping quite involuntarily backwards. The Alsatian's barks ceased. He whined and backed away, his tail curled miserably between his legs. Ianto advanced a step, still growling.

Rhys hastily unhooked him from the railing and pulled him away. A fusillade of barks followed them. Ianto turned back, but Rhys dragged him firmly forwards. "Oi, leave it," he snapped. Ianto relented, but cast frequent glances back towards his adversary. "Just a couple more days, and you can go back to booting them up the arse like the rest of us," Rhys assured him.

By the time they got to the park, Rhys's coffee was cool enough to drink and, judging by his waving tail, Ianto had regained his good humour. Rhys parked himself on a bench and sipped his drink. Ianto vanished into the undergrowth of some flower beds for a few minutes, and Rhys tried to look as if he didn't know anything about any dogs, just in case anyone tried to object.

Ianto emerged, shook the mud off his paws, and trotted off across the grass, where he was accosted by a rather cheeky black greyhound. She bounded over to him, bowed on her elbows in an invitation to play, and when he leant forward, cautiously sniffing at her, she nipped him and ran away.

He gave chase, but she effortlessly outstripped him, her small, sleek ears held back against her streamlined head. She circled back, once it was obvious he wasn't going to catch her, darting within his reach and out again, grinning right across her face and obviously having a wonderful time.

Rhys watched, cautiously. The Alsatian incident had worried him a little - Ianto hadn't acted aggressively to any other dogs before - but he seemed quite happy for the greyhound to run rings around him. Not that there was much Rhys could do in any case - while slower than a greyhound, Ianto was certainly faster than he was.

He finished his coffee, then took a slow stroll around the path. It was oddly relaxing watching dogs play. Before all this, he'd never really paid them much attention.

A small child discovered Ianto, and he tolerated the attention until the child's mother disentangled herself from her pushchair and other child to pull him away. Rhys could just about make out the louder parts of her admonishments not to play with strange dogs.

The greyhound was having a fun game of running away from her increasingly frustrated owner. With mischievous smugness, Rhys waited until his stroll took him up close to them before calling Ianto back.

He came bounding across the grass, his ears flapping back with every stride, circled Rhys twice, apparently to lose momentum, then sat down in front of him, panting happily. Rhys clipped the lead to his collar, then ruffled his ears. "Good dog. Nice morning, isn't it?" he added to the greyhound's owner. The man ignored him.

***

When they got back, Gwen was sitting at the breakfast table in her dressing gown. Jack was buried in a bowl of scrambled eggs, and just flipped an ear at them. "What's it like out there?" Gwen asked.

"All right." He kissed her temple. "Bit breezy." He helped himself to the saucepan of eggs still sitting on the stove, dumped the rest into Ianto's bowl, and made a couple of rounds of toast to go with it.

They ate in peaceful, companionable silence, to the soundtrack of steady chomping from floor level. When Jack tried to jump up onto the oven they yelled at him in perfect synchronicity, then grinned at each other. Jack looked startled and leapt down, only to be pounced on by Ianto, who licked the remains of breakfast from his nose and whiskers. As soon as he was released, Jack shot away, and Ianto ran after him, claws clicking and scraping on the kitchen floor.

"You know, I think I'm gonna miss 'em," Rhys said, watching as the chase suddenly reversed for no apparent reason.

"Oh? There was this fella in bed with me this morning moaning about getting up to walk the dog. Wonder who that could've been."

"You know what I mean. It's been nice. Us two looking after them."

Gwen bit her lip and kept her eyes on her plate.

"So, what do you think?" Rhys persisted. "I mean, you always said you wanted kids, and we..."

She took his hands across the table and looked up at him with wide eyes. "We've only just got the wedding out the way, that's enough planning for now, isn't it? And we'll talk about it properly later. Maybe when we haven't got an audience." She jerked her head towards the living room.

Resigned, Rhys nodded. He supposed she did have a point. There were many aspects of the whole human-animal transformation issue that he was still unclear on, including how much of the experience they would remember afterwards. There were a few points he hoped could be glossed over, especially the time he'd removed Jack from the sink by the simple expedient of turning on the cold tap. In his defence, he'd been in a hurry.

Gwen locked her fingers together and stretched her arms over her head with a deep yawn. Rhys's eyes flicked automatically to her breasts. "I'd better get a shift on," she said. "Round up Jack for me, would you?"

She went to get dressed. Rhys picked up the cat carrier.

Jack and Ianto were lying on the floor in front of the window in a beam of morning sunlight. Jack was splayed on his back like a comfortably basking corpse.

Not wanting to listen to the mewls of complaint the whole time Gwen was getting ready, Rhys postponed the cat-catching and plonked himself down on the sofa. Ianto turned his head and gave him a solemn stare, then turned back to Jack and swiped a possessive lick over his neck and shoulder. Jack contracted inwards and attacked Ianto's nose in a sleepy, half-hearted fashion, before flomping back to the carpet.

Ianto left him and padded around, restlessly. He picked up a fluffy ring from the pile of mostly untouched chew toys, and brought it over to Rhys. When Gwen emerged, dressed and made-up, they were having an enthusiastic game of tug-of-war.

"Oh, Rhys! I asked you to get him in his box! And that's where all them grass seeds are coming from," she added, levelling an accusing finger at Ianto. She dug a brush out of the pet paraphernalia. "You, come here. Sit. You, go get Jack."

Ianto and Rhys exchanged a look, and did as they were told.

***

Gwen brushed the park detritus from Ianto's coat. He stayed still, but shot them both occasional pleading looks. Rhys manhandled Jack into the carrier, and they were subjected to his mournful wails of protest.

"I'll be off, then," Rhys said. "I'll see you later." He kissed and hugged her, trying to avoid the fluffy clouds of shed fur, and left.

"There we go," Gwen announced, scraping up the worst of the fur into a wastepaper basket, "all clean and beautiful. You wanna fetch your lead for me?" He shook himself and trotted off.

She lifted the cat carrier on to the sofa, and sat on the floor so she could peer inside. Jack stuck his paw out and hooked his claws into the upholstery.

"Shall I get you a little tin mug to bash on the bars?"

"Mmmwowwr..."

She stroked the back of his paw with her fingertip. "Calm down. We'll be at work soon, and then I'll let you out again. Besides, it's Friday today. That means you've only got today and tomorrow to go, then you turn back on Sunday."

"Mwrowwww..."

Ianto reappeared and dropped the lead at her feet.

***

Tosh had set up her experimental animal communications device again. Gwen let Ianto off the lead and crouched down to release Jack, after casting a wary eye upwards for any signs of the pterodactyl. So far, she'd been very good about not eating anyone, but it didn't hurt to be cautious.

Tosh's communications device was basically a keyboard, oversized for easy operation by paws. She'd tried organising the letters and symbols in a number of different configurations, but coherent communication had not been reached. There had been some attempts to find sense in the pages of gibberish produced, and Tosh swore blind that one of Ianto's epistles was a sarcastic comment about Skinner boxes, but progress had been curtailed when Jack got distracted by the flashing cursor, tried to catch it, and knocked Tosh's mug of soup over the power transformer.

"Morning," Gwen said, watching Jack streak away with new-found freedom. "Coffee on?"

"I think so. Owen was hanging around up there earlier."

"Sharn't get my hopes up, then." She perched on the edge of a desk and watched Tosh arrange the pressure pad 'keys' on the floor, Ianto trotting after her, keeping a close eye on what she was doing.

Owen appeared, bearing mugs. Ianto abandoned Tosh without a second thought and circled his legs. "Fuck off, you're not getting any," he snapped, lifting the mugs out of harm's way as Ianto bounced up onto his hind legs.

"We let him have coffee," Gwen said, relieving him of her mug.

"Well, that just makes you an irresponsible pet owner then, doesn't it? Fuck off, Ianto."

Gwen wrapped her fingers around warm porcelain. "You reckon it'll work this time?" she asked, nodding towards Tosh's apparatus.

"Probably not," Tosh replied, with a rueful smile, "but I thought I'd have one last go at it before they change back. Not that it makes much difference at this point." She fished a packet of polos out of her pocket and held one out. "Ianto! Come here!"

He had been sitting at Owen's feet, staring hopefully upwards, while Owen resolutely pretended he wasn't there. At the sound of Tosh's voice, he ran back to her. She lifted the mint out of his reach.

"Do you want this? Hmm?" She pointed with her free hand at the ouija-board-like 'yes' and 'no' keys.

Ianto sat patiently at her feet. His tail thumped against the key behind him, and a line of 'H's began appearing on the screen.

Owen shook his head. "Tosh, give it up, it ain't working. He's a fucking dog. Maybe if we'd got a chimp you'd've been in with a chance, but..."

"I suppose you're right," she said, despondently, holding out the polo to Ianto. He took it, crunched it, then walked off across the keys, leaving the screen reading 'HHHHHHHMFRTWE'. "It's just a shame," Tosh continued. "It's such a fascinating phenomenon, and we've learned absolutely nothing from it. Are you sure you don't remember anything about being a rat last time?"

Owen got to his feet with a scowl. "For the last fucking time, no." He turned and stomped away.

"Bit defensive, isn't he?" Gwen said, loudly.

He spun around. "Look. I don't remember anything about it, I don't want to remember anything about it. All right?"

"Very defensive," Gwen said with a grin.

"You did make rather a cute rat," Tosh said, offering Owen a rather more apologetic smile. "Except for all the biting."

Owen folded his arms. "Me and all my little sharp pointy metal friends say this topic is closed." He over-enunciated the final word, dragging out the 'o'. "You got that? Good." He fixed them each in turn with an angry glare, turned, and headed away towards the autopsy bay.

Gwen exchanged an amused glance with Tosh, and went up to the boardroom to get on with some work. On the way, she encountered Owen's lab coat hanging on the back of a chair. Where the hem hung to the floor, there was a suspicious bulge with a dark, fluffy tail sticking out.

She poked the tip of the tail. It flicked away. She poked at the bulging lab coat, and Jack did his best to playfully attack her through the fabric. She fished him out and hoisted him into her arms. "Come on up with me, otherwise Tosh'll be experimenting on you all day."

He slept peacefully on her lap until around eleven, at which point he suddenly decided the shiny black buttons on her blouse were a dire threat to humanity and pounced.

Gwen yelled and batted him off.

Tosh stuck her head in the door. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Gwen said, looking down sadly at the fresh crop of pulled threads. "No harm done, it'll go nicely with those black jeans he tried to climb up." She raised her voice. "Ever hear of de-clawing, Jack?"

Tosh crouched down and held out enticing fingers. Jack trotted over and rubbed his sleek cat cheek affectionately against her hand. "You're a very bad kitty," she told him, solemnly. He flopped onto his side, and, with the beginnings of a purr, stretched himself backwards into an arc, his head almost touching his spine. The paler fur on his belly fanned out against the floor.

Despite herself, Gwen could feel the soppy grin spreading across her face. "Get away with murder, you do," she muttered, and bent over to stroke him.

***

After the relatively quiet morning, Gwen and Owen's afternoon was taken up by a Hoix that had invaded a nearby KFC. When they got back to the hub, Ianto met them at the door, waiting just out of range of the swinging metal bars, tongue hanging between his teeth and twitching upwards with every panting breath.

"What is it, Ianto?" Owen asked in mock enthusiasm, bending forward, hands on his knees. "Is little Timmy trapped down the old well? Hmm? Speak, boy!"

"Leave him alone," Tosh chided, gently, her eyes not moving from the screen in front of her.

Gwen sniffed at her sleeve. "Oh, I'm gonna smell like chicken for a month. C'mon, Ianto, I'll hold the phone book, you point to a good cleaning service for me."

Owen clattered down the metal stairs to the armoury. "I still say we should've just left it," he called over his shoulder. "It would've eaten everything else, then climbed into the fryer after the hot stuff. One extra-crispy alien - everything sorted. See, nine times out of ten, you ignore a problem and it ju - holy fuck!" There was a clang, a thud, an indignant yowl, and Jack came shooting out across the hub, Owen thundering after him.

"He does it on purpose!" he bellowed after the fleeing cat. "He waits where he knows I'm gonna tread, trips me up, then acts all self-righteous about it, like he's trying to guilt-trip me for him getting in my way! Hairy little fucker!"

Tosh ran after Jack, calling his name. Ianto followed.

"Or, you could try looking where you're going," Gwen said, not bothering to disguise her smirk.

"He hides. He bloody camouflages himself."

"Yes, well, if you're relatively uninjured after your epic showdown with the cat, we could try and get this thing into the cells, hmm?"

"I think he feels threatened cos I'm the alpha male now. Cos he doesn't do it to you two, just to me."

"Yes, Owen."

"He does."

"Yes, Owen."

***

They shut the Hoix in a cell and left it with half a bag of flour that had been sitting in the back of the kitchen cupboard since 1998. Gwen shut Jack in his carrier and began to gather her possessions.

"You know, Ianto just let him run around. Last time, I mean," Tosh said, over the wails of feline despair. She pushed her fingers through the bars to comfortingly stroke what fur she could reach. On the floor beside them, Ianto's ears pricked up at the mention of his name.

"Well then, Ianto trusts him more than I do." Gwen heard the angry snap in her own voice, and saw Tosh's shoulders tense. "Sorry. I just... I know what you mean, it gets to me too, but I am not having Jack end up as road kill on my watch. Besides, it's only one more day. You hear that?" She leant over to talk through the bars, her voice rising to a higher register of its own accord, "just one more day, you noisy thing." She hoisted up the carrier, slung her handbag over her other shoulder, and reeled in Ianto's lead. "We'd best be off, then. I'll see you back here on Sunday for the grand transformation."

A smile of genuine excitement spread across Tosh's face. "I can't wait to see what readings we get. The conservation of mass issue alone could..."

"Yes, well, I've gotta go," Gwen said, hastily. "Rhys'll have dinner on the table."

***

Saturday night.

Gwen had just reached the softly floating stage that came before sleep, when Rhys's voice pulled her back to reality.

"I forgot to say, Ruth's got Cats Protection coming round hers next week."

She rolled onto her side to face him, tucking her hand under the pillow. "So, because of us lot, some homeless little kitty's going to get adopted?"

"Yep." He grinned and reached out a hand to stroke her hair. "Unless they find a cat-meat sausage factory in her basement or something."

Gwen's eyes drifted closed, then, after a short pause, drifted open again. "See, now I can't stop thinking about them leftover sausages in the fridge." She heaved a sigh. "It's no good, I'm gonna have to 'ave 'em."

"You've just brushed your teeth, they'll taste all minty."

She climbed out of bed, staggered, and gripped the doorframe to haul herself upright. "I'm not still pissed," she protested in the face of Rhys's smirk. "I'm just tired."

"Bring me back one," he called after her.

She made her way across the darkened living room, navigating by memory and the glow from curtain-muffled streetlights. The night air was cold against her bare limbs.

Ianto was stretched out on the sofa, nose on his paws, fast asleep. Jack was squeezed in by his side, sandwiched against the sofa's back. As she came closer, he lifted his head and made his odd chirruping sound of greeting. Ianto slept on.

"Shh, everyone's asleep." She ran a hand down his back, then, on impulse, bent over to kiss the top of his head. She half-expected him to follow her into the kitchen, but when she returned with two brown sausages prised free from their furrows in solidified fat, he was sleeping against Ianto's side.

***

Ianto awoke with a panicked start as his centre of gravity shifted far enough to tip him over the edge of the sofa. He automatically flung out a hand to catch himself, his palm thumping into the carpet and sending a painful jar up to his elbow.

He shoved himself back and up, swinging his feet onto the floor, and brought both hands up to the red collar cinched tightly around his throat.

Behind him, Jack propped himself up on his elbow. "Ahh," he said with relief and satisfaction, "cognitive reasoning. Opposable thumbs. But you see what I mean, though, it is kinda fun."

Ianto was still groping at the collar. "Bloody Gwen," he muttered, "I'll kill 'er."

"Look on the bright side, at least she got an elastic one. You'd really be in trouble, otherwise." He sat up and laid his hands on Ianto's shoulders. "Here, let me."

"Not a word," Ianto said warningly as Jack unbuckled the collar and dropped it onto the coffee table.

"Would I?"

"Past experience would suggest so. Ugh, I need a shower. I need two showers. And a brillo pad."

"I'll get you started." He dragged his tongue up Ianto's neck to his earlobe.

"Get off, get off. You don't have an excuse any more."

Jack laughed happily and pulled him back down on the sofa to cuddle like spoons.

Ianto let himself be arranged. "We can't stay here," he said, lifting his head and arching his neck back to press his cheek against Jack's. "I mean, we're naked in Gwen's living room."

"Mmm-hmm." He settled into a slightly more comfortable position. "So, what'd ya think of life in the animal kingdom?"

"...Interesting. It's all sort of... fading. Like you said last time, I can just remember bits and pieces. But at least nobody nearly died this time."

"Hey, he was a rat! Me, cat - him, small scampery furry thing. It wasn't my fault."

"Yes, obviously someone forced you to try and bite Owen's spine in two."

"You were very heroic," Jack said, placatingly. "Now, that's one of the images that did stay, you lifting him high with blood dripping down to your elbow... Practically statuesque, I thought. The Saviour of Rats."

Ianto held up his hand and tilted it until the light fell on the tiny twin scars at the base of his forefinger. "Mmm. Some people can be very ungrateful. Especially when they're rodents."

Jack's hand slid up his belly to press against his chest, right over his heart. "What time is it?" he asked.

Ianto craned his neck to take in the display in the front of the DVD recorder. "Gone four."

He could hear the grin in Jack's voice. "Got a few hours to kill, then."

***

Gwen clawed her way muzzily back to consciousness. Beside her, Rhys was sitting up against the headboard. "So," he said, "turn back on Sunday, you reckon?"

"Oh god... That's not...?"

"Unless you left the TV on. With porn playing."

She hid her face in the pillows and giggled, helplessly.

An unmistakable moan of passion, slightly muffled by its journey through the plasterboard wall, floated across the room. "Bloody 'ell," Rhys said.

"Oh god," Gwen repeated, clasping her hands over her face to hide her broad grin.

There came a harsh thumping crash, almost drowning out the loud cry beneath it. Rhys set his jaw, leaned out of bed, and banged his fist against the wall. "Oi!" he bellowed. "Shut up out there, it's four in the morning!"

"Rhys!" Gwen gasped through her horrified giggles.

"Sorry!" Jack called, cheerfully.

Gwen buried her face in the pillow again.

"Oh, what?" Rhys asked her. He jerked a thumb at the bedroom door. "That's just inconsiderate."

***

Jack pressed his hand over Ianto's heart. "What'd you think?" he asked softly, his breath ghosting over his ear.

Ianto turned until they were belly to belly, their rapidly filling cocks jostling for space. "We do have some time to kill."

"Mmm-hmm." He reached between them, wrapped a fist around both their cockheads, and gently squeezed. "Oh, yeah," he said over Ianto's gasp of surprise and pleasure, "opposable thumbs. Missed those. Missed a few other things as well."

They kissed. Ianto's body responded with a desperate hunger that took him quite by surprise. But it's only been a week, he thought, incredulously, as he hooked his hands around Jack's neck, thumbs pressed against his jawline, to pull him closer still. Being a dog - good for the libido. Who knew?

It seemed Jack had been affected in much the same way. With none of the usual preamble he pulled them upright, spread his legs wide, one foot on the floor, the other flat on the seat of the sofa, and wrapped his fingers firmly around Ianto's cock.

"Yeah," Ianto breathed, his eyes falling closed. It felt perfect and wonderfully exciting, and Jack's big, strong fingers knew just how to touch him...

A glance downwards told him Little Jack was bobbing and drooling with anticipation. He reached out a hand to return the favour, and was rewarded with a deep groan. "Yeah, that's so good..." The arm around Ianto's waist tightened and, taking the hint, he shifted closer, hooking one knee over Jack's thigh.

Jack licked his way up his throat and nibbled gently at his earlobe. His rough cheek scratched at his skin, and the thick, heady scent of him filled his nostrils.

Ianto brought up his hand to grab a fistful of Jack's hair, dragging him in for a kiss made clumsy by hasty desperation. He could feel his orgasm approaching, building and climbing, much stronger than usual, almost frightening in its potential intensity. The small part of his mind not focused solely on the delicious sensations in his cock noticed Jack was making those short, open-mouthed gasps that meant he was close. He doubled the speed of the hand tugging along Jack's shaft.

With a loud moan, Jack's head rolled back, and streams of silky come spilled out over Ianto's fist.

"Oh... Oh, wow." He pounced on Ianto, pushing him against the sofa's padded back, kissed him with gleeful gratitude, and used his own slick semen to pump Ianto to his own climax.

The sudden change in sensation sent Ianto rocketing over the edge. He cried out, barely registering that his foot had caught the edge of the coffee table, kicking it over and sending the heavy earthenware bowl it had supported crashing to the floor.

His orgasm had been not only quick, but as promised, hard and powerful. Riding the aftershocks, he let his eyes drift closed in satisfied exhaustion, and rested his head on Jack's shoulder. In his state of sated afterglow, he had completely forgotten the bizarre week they had just spent, their current surroundings, everything save the man in his arms. He felt muzzily disconnected from existence itself, and had the strong urge to roll over and take a nap.

He was jerked rudely back to reality by a wall-muffled thumping and Rhys's voice raised in protest.

"Oh, god," he whispered in mortification, even as Jack yelled a cheery apology over his shoulder.

***

Gwen infiltrated Rhys's side of the bed, pressing her back to his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, one hand on her stomach, the other resting on her breastbone. "Wish we hadn't bothered keeping quiet for their benefit," he complained.

"Hey," she said, rubbing her hand over his forearm, "d'you remember that holiday in Cornwall? With that old couple next door...?"

"Stop it. You tryin' to put me off sex altogether?"

She said nothing, but he could feel her shake against him with repressed laughter.

"You shouldn't even remember how to do it at that age." His voice became a wavery high-pitched pastiche of an old lady: "Oh, Colin... Oh, Colin..."

Gwen's giggles became audible.

"I wouldn't even've minded so much," Rhys continued, "but then, when they 'ung their washing out - great big pink granny-pants, like bloody parachutes. And I just couldn't stop thinking I know where those've been."

They laid quietly together, listening to the sounds of voices from the other side of the wall, now too faint to make out words.

"I feel a bit bad for the sofa," Gwen said, sleepily. "It's our sofa, no-one else's ever shagged on it before."

"Unless someone took it for a test drive at the furniture place."

She screwed up her nose in disgusted reproach.

"So..." He touched her breast, lightly. "Want to?"

"Contrary bastard, you are, Rhys Williams."

"We'll give them a run for their money, then?"

She grinned and turned in his arms to kiss him.

***

Jack reclined naked on the sofa and watched Ianto dash around, tidying like a teenager twenty minutes before his parents were due home. He had wrapped the throw from the armchair around himself like a toga, but it was a somewhat loose weave, and the effect whenever he stepped between Jack and the soft, warm glow thrown from the table lamp was rather interesting.

"Ianto..." He seized his wrist as he passed, bringing him to a halt. "Calm down. Stop panicking."

He straightened his spine, deep in the adorable flustered-but-ever-so-prim-and-proper thing he did when he was embarrassed. "I'm not panicking, I'm cleaning."

"It's just sex. Something I'm sure those two in there are familiar with." He clasped both his hands, thumbs moving in soothing circles over his wrists.

Ianto began to relax, but then abruptly tensed and pulled away as his eyes fell on the sofa cushions. He darted away towards the kitchen, stopped, and turned back with indecision written all over his face.

"What?" Jack asked, nonplussed.

"We've got come on the sofa."

"Well, that's hardly surprising."

Ianto hitched up his makeshift toga. "You're supposed to wait for it to dry, then get it out with a brush, but I don't think we've got time..." He vanished into the kitchen and reappeared with a damp sponge.

Jack watched with a fond smile as he got to his knees beside to come-spattered sofa and began scrubbing. "I think you got it," he told him firmly, five minutes later.

He got to his feet and examined his work, dubiously. "I suppose we'll have to wait and see how it looks when it's dry." He turned on the spot, subjecting the room to a careful analysis. "I think that's everything. You see anything else?"

"Looks great to me. C'm'ere."

Ianto climbed onto the sofa, studiously avoiding the wet patch, to settle at Jack's side. "God," he said, sniffing down at himself, "what do I smell like?"

"Like you," Jack told him, pulling him close. "I like the way you smell."

Ianto made a disbelieving 'huh' noise.

"Honestly, you people." He pushed a hand under Ianto's toga to rest it on his thigh. "You're so ashamed of your own bodies, you douse yourselves in chemicals to hide all your natural signals. Then you wonder why the divorce rate keeps climbing."

"That's easy for you to say," Ianto complained, "with your futuristic sweat glands..."

He broke off, and they both listened intently to the remains of sounds that had made it through the wall.

"See?" Jack said, with a wide grin, "told you they knew all about sex."

***

Gwen rode Rhys, one hand clutching at the top of the headboard, the other pressed over his mouth. For all their talk of outperforming her colleagues, they were still trying their best to be quiet, although her attempt at restraint had quickly devolved into having her fingers sucked.

She moved in slow, even strokes, feeling the poised spring of pleasure within her wind tighter and tighter with every thrust. Even the soft brushes of the blankets against her bare thighs were driving her closer and closer.

With her teeth pinched into her lower lip to keep back her gasps of pleasure, she let her head roll back, feeling the soft prickle of her hair brushing against the skin of her back. She deliberately exaggerated the movements of her upper body, making her breasts bounce, at least until Rhys reached up to knead them firmly in his hands. She leaned into the touch, taking a little of her weight off her shoulder, and looked down at him, her hair falling forward to surround her face. They met each other's eyes and smiled.

"Gwen," he said, half-whispering, moving one hand down to tug at her waist.

She lifted herself off him, then followed his prompts until she was positioned on her hands and knees. She spread her legs, turning back to watch him over her shoulder.

"Oh, yes," he said with a delighted grin, running his hands up her inner thighs, using his thumbs to spread her wide open.

She made a little 'Now? Please?' noise, and he took his cock in his hand, rubbing the head between her moist pink lips, until she pushed herself back onto him. "Yes?" he asked, breathlessly, pressing slowly forward until his hips were flush to her buttocks.

"Yes." She arched her back, moving her pelvis in little circles, moving him inside her like a pestle in a mortar.

"Not gonna last much longer, love," he told her, reaching around her hip to rub the ball of his thumb over her clitoris.

She laughed. "That's fine, neither am I."

He gripped her hip and began to thrust. She braced her arms against the headboard and shoved herself back to meet him. His cock pushed into her again and again, and his hand moved between her clitoris and her breasts, stroking and squeezing, and the tight little spring inside her, wound to capacity, released.

"Ah, fuck, yes, Rhys..." Her arms were shaking too much to hold her up, so she let her shoulders fall to the mattress, leaving her rear end elevated; a position very much like that of a dog bowing in an invitation to play.

Feeling the waves of her orgasm squeezing him over and over, Rhys gave three more short thrusts, then closed his eyes and rocked his head back as his own climax took him.

Both panting for breath, they flopped down onto their backs, turning their heads to face one another. They exchanged satisfied lazy smiles, and Gwen reached up a hand to cup his cheek and bring him in for a kiss.

"Should get cleaned up, I suppose," he said, "before we fall asle..." The end of the sentence was lost in a yawn.

Gwen wiped away a droplet of come that was tickling her as it trickled down the junction between buttock and thigh. "S'pose..." She followed suit with a deep yawn.

"Tell you something," he said, his eyes already closing, "s'gonna be a bit awkward in the morning."

***

The next morning, Ianto, feeling much better after hitting the bathroom and stealing a spare toothbrush, a disposable razor, and copious amounts of soap, still found himself quite unable to meet anyone's eyes. Jack, by contrast, was wearing a wide damn-right-I-got-laid-last-night grin.

Rhys's wardrobe was raided in preparation for the journey home. The sight of Jack in jeans, Ianto thought, was downright unsettling.

"Poor Tosh," Gwen was saying. "She's going to be so disappointed."

"Well," Jack said, offering a hand to Rhys, "your hospitality was greatly appreciated."

"Sorry about everything," Ianto chimed in.

"Don't worry about it," Rhys replied, shaking Jack's hand and clapping Ianto on the shoulder. "Oh, but, Jack? Do everyone a favour and stay away from my secretary, yeah?"

A dreamy, far-away look spread across Jack's face. "Ah, Ruth," he said. "I like her."

Ianto gave him a look.

"What?" He pressed his hands to his chest in indicate himself: "Cat!" then flung them wide to indicate the state of the world: "No morals!"

"Oh yeah?" Gwen was leaning against the wall, arms folded, grinning at the exchange. "So what's your usual excuse?"

"See, this is why I need the coat. 'Cos without it - no respect." He pulled open the front door and made to step through.

"Um, Jack?" Ianto nodded to the flash of red just peeking out of his back pocket. "Leave the collar."

***

Gwen dropped Ianto off at home and drove Jack to the hub. She parked in the space next to Tosh's car, and they exchanged glances of resigned apprehension.

But once inside, the base seemed deserted. "Tosh!" Jack yelled, bounding up the metal stairs setting them clattering and ringing. "Toshiko!"

"Her bag's here," Gwen called, pointing to the handbag sitting slumped before Tosh's console. "I'll check the ladies'."

Inside the women's toilets, one of the stalls was indeed locked.

"Tosh, you're not gonna believe this, but they've turned back early," Gwen said apologetically, checking her hair in the mirror. "Right on my bloody sofa at some godawful time in the morning... Tosh? You okay?" She tapped on the flimsy partition door. "Tosh?"

No response. Gwen crouched down to peer beneath the door, inhaling sharply at the sight of the collapsed set of clothes, spike-heeled boots sitting at the base.

"Oh, god," she muttered, "not again..." She scrambled to her feet, slammed at the swing door hard with the heels of her hands, and raced back up to the main hub, yelling Jack's name as she went.

He was standing near Tosh's station, his back to her. As she approached, he pushed a hand back towards her, palm out in a 'stop, wait' gesture. She moved slowly and cautiously forward, craning around to see what had caught his attention. The sound of wings made her glance automatically upwards, but there was no sign of the pterodactyl. When she looked back, a large African Grey parrot was swooping towards Jack.

He held out a hand, and winced as sharp claws closed on his forearm. The bird bobbed its head almost apologetically, its bright scarlet tail dipping and twitching to maintain its balance, and shuffled sideways to grip onto the wide band of leather around Jack's wrist with one scaled foot.

Gwen moved forward, eyes wide. Jack reached up with his free hand and ran his forefinger over the thick soft grey feathers of the parrot's head. "...Toshiko?"

***

the end

***