nysalogs | [ FINISHED/CLOSED ]

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[ FINISHED/CLOSED ]

Who: John Sheppard & Ianto Jones
What: I Held My Tongue For Like 30 Minutes What More Do You Want?
When: Backdated to the, 24th/25th of May?
Where: Leaving main Wyver for Khalo
Warning(s): Weird Tension, fyrra use

John's best lead for the whole thing is going to be Khalo, but they can at least meander through the main hub first so Ianto can get a drink before he collapses on the floor. He can explain it once Ianto is a little more alert. John is benevolent enough to suggest this without letting on it's mostly for Ianto's sake, even though they both know it is. It's fine, though, he knows the theoretical timeline they're working on -- and since the the whole altar thing was a bust (probably he should mention that, too) this is more firefighting than anything.

He waves off another kid trying to get suspiciously close to him and his bag, mouths scram as he waits for Ianto to get his drink (which, no doubt, he won't enjoy as much as his own fancy coffee) and skims his phone again. It's heating up enough that his jacket is stowed in his bag, and he eyes Ianto idly wondering if he's put on any sunblock. His own arms are getting browner every minute, and he probably has tan lines.

"So," he says, stowing his phone and squinting up at the sky thoughtfully. Clear so far, it's only going to get hotter then. "Your boyfriend seemed in a good mood."

Ultra smooth. Nailed it.

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"Fine," John accepts, and he turns to face Ianto -- gives an exaggerated, sardonic sort of shrug. "I don't care."

He shoves up his sunglasses up again and turns back to the road, trying to clamp down on the waves of irritation. Get it together, John.

"I wouldn't recommend Khalo for relaxing anytime soon, that's our most likely bandit hideout. We buying you shoes or not?"

If Ianto has any of the money he gave him left, that is. Not that he needed it for a room, so unless he's been splurging on something he should. Not that it's any of his business. Ianto can buy whatever he wants.

"Don't you?" Ianto asks, frowning at the other man as he turns away again, his eyebrows furrowed. "I do. And I certainly care what you think of me, at any rate, but if that's how it is."

He lets out a sigh, running a hand over his face before taking a fortifying swallow of his coffee. He really wishes the other man would just tell him what was wrong. Whether it's something he's done so that he can apologize for it or who knows. Explain himself. He hasn't had enough caffeine for this yet. And he really wishes he would stop turning the conversation around.

"Jim was right. I should probably get something better than these, and if I don't want to draw attention to the ring, I should probably get something to put over it as well." Though the thought of wearing gloves in this heat makes him feel a little queasy.

"Shoes take time to walk in, they'll hurt your feet at first. You probably want to not wear them right away if we're going on a lengthy walk. Soaking them first will help."

He dodges around some people and adjusts direction to head toward where he thinks the shops are, trying to remember if he saw a shoe shop. Probably? Not that he was exactly looking for shoes at the time, more for people and likely trouble hot-spots.

"And finish that so you can put some sunblock on," he adds, because he hasn't forgotten that Ianto still isn't wearing any.

And he's back to fussing about the sunblock again. And now the shoes. As if he hadn't had a defensive outburst there about how he was 'just trying to be nice', and Ianto knows, he knows there's more to this than that.

He doesn't protest the attention or the advice. He supposes that John has a point -- to all of it, really. But it eats at him. Leaving the rest of it unresolved. Especially after John's latest jabs. I don't know what your problem is. I don't care.

Ianto takes another sip of his coffee, giving himself the excuse not to respond right away, before finally he asks, "How do you propose we do that, if we're headed to Khalo, then?" Soaking his shoes, that is.

"I was thinking we'd figure something out when we get there, but if you want to just try walking them in be my guest. I'm not carrying you when your feet hurt."

He squints up at the sun, takes a deep breath and digs out his phone as he walks to check something. The heavy overhangs of foliage provide intermittent shade, but more than that John is silently keeping himself aware of people around them. Whatever the shamans are up to, there's equally no reason to think they'd wouldn't be aware anyone who'd been with the wagon could be looking for them and could be a threat. He pauses for a second to glance back, scanning Ianto idly until he's a few steps closer before continuing to walk.

"I'm not asking you to," Ianto replies, glancing aside at the other man as he lets him catch up to his side, before away again. Quietly frowning as he sips at his coffee. John's deflections bother him. John's behavior bothers him. A lot about this situation bothers him, and most of all the way the other man has taken to lashing out at him for pushing him.

"Whatever you think is best," he says, continuing to sip at his coffee and wishing a bit as though he could crawl into his cup and hide from the world at this point instead of dealing with John's odd mood or this trip to Khalo or the mess that might meet them there or any of it. "I shall defer to your expertise." He supposes that John would know how to treat boots after all, having been in the military.

His expertise. Right. John's face twitches at that, some mild twist of irritation. He can't tell if Ianto is digging at him on purpose or if he's just projecting, but either way he can feel himself tensing up again -- as if preparing for another round of attack.

"Maybe you should," he drawls, even though it's not exactly done a lot of good so far. His supposed expertise hadn't helped when the carriage was attacked. He supposed expertise hadn't stopped him being stabbed or Ianto being hit in the head. He glances down at his phone again, agitated, and quickly types a message before stowing it away again. "You need anything else while we're here?"

Other than shoes, apparently, and gloves. John has a little food and water packed, but he doesn't know what Ianto picked up while he was lingering around Wyver. Or what Kirk might have givn him, for that matter.

Ianto glances down at the phone in John's hands and the way he keeps pulling it out, but he doesn't ask. Not yet. Is he allowed to? If he does, would the other man see it as a breech of his privacy? He's obviously got a problem with all the other questions Ianto's been asking.

"Well, another weapon wouldn't hurt," he answers, honestly. "The stun gun can only do so much. But it's rather a moot point I suppose. Unless they're selling firearms around here anywhere, I'm not really trained on anything else. So boots and gloves it is. Maybe an extra canteen or two. Unless you've spotted anything else of note."

"I don't even have a gun," John points out, so really -- if for some reason there are discount gun shops around here then he's buying one for himself first. Still, he slows down again as they begin to pass through some ramshackle things that are beginning to look like shops. Here, everything slowly begins to be more built up -- bit by bit more lit up and noisy as they get further into the more urban areas of Wyver's central sprawl. John turns toward Ianto and starts to dig out his wallet, begins counting out money without really looking up at Ianto.

"Just -- buy whatever you want," he says finally, and holds out what amounts to most of his money. It's not as if it really matters, anyway. It's not a huge amount to begin with, since he's already covering the bulk of everything else. John is not brilliant at saving.

Edited (moodier icon tbh) 2018-06-05 00:41 (UTC)

John may not be great at saving, but Ianto is. At this rate Ianto might wind up having a small fortune himself with all the money John keeps shoving at him to buy himself things. He thinks about commenting to say as much, but there's something about the other man's behavior that stops him. Has him reaching out to take it and carefully hiding it away in his bag (with the rest) before glancing back at the other man, thinking about saying something else, and then thinking better of it.

"...thanks," he says. Feeling a little as though he's being treated like a child, but he doesn't have any money so what right does he have to complain for being given them. "Look, I... Just don't go anywhere, yeah? If you're not coming with me." That's the last thing he needs is John up and disappearing or leaving him behind here.

For a second John looks around and seems as if he's considering the merits of just bolting, of making an excuse for why he has somewhere he needs to go.

"Sure," he says finally, and his tone is light and airy in contrast to the awkward stiffness in his body-language. "Pick a place and I'll wait outside or something, make sure nobody jumps us." You know, shamans or bandits or just people who dislike refugees. He begins to walk again, reflexively reaching out to touch Ianto's arm for a second and draw him along in his wake. "Though you should know I have limited opinions on fashion, so I'd just recommend waterproof and sturdy. Aren't any tailors in my family."

Unlike Ianto's dad, apparently.

Ianto doesn't make any comment on the subject, though there is a definite inward flinch at the words. "Lucky for you and I that I've got taste, then," he quips in return, glancing up at the shops as they pass them before stopping at a particular place. Its leather goods don't seem any different than the next, but Ianto can tell quality when he sees it. He'll just have to hope they won't cost an arm and a leg, or that he can haggle the price down if they do.

He casts a look aside at the other man. "I'll try not to take too long," he says, before raising a single eyebrow at him to continue and add, "Stay."

He doesn't wait to see what sort of a reaction that earns him, ducking into the shop to see what he can do to get himself a nice, sturdy pair of boots that might actually fit him correctly, and a pair of gloves as well. Waterproof both, the gloves light and surprisingly cool. He pulls out the ring to make certain it will fit beneath them, which in retrospect is something of a blessing as well as a mistake. Mistake because of the attention it earns him and slow rise in murmuring throughout the shop the longer he stays. Blessing because the owner essentially starts throwing things at him for free at that point. A couple of canteens for holding water. An extra belt or two. Refusing even the money Ianto pulls from his bag as he makes the attempt to pay for something. He's not going to complain as he graciously rounds it up and folds it into his bag, but as he tucks the ring back into his pocket, he doesn't take his time in making his way out of the store. Feeling a little as though he's just robbed the place. He's no hero, after all. He doesn't even live in Wyver.

"We need to go," he says, hooking a hand in John's elbow and doing his best to tug him as quickly as he can away from the shop itself.

Stay.

John shoots a wary look at Ianto as he heads inside, watches him moving around deciding for a few minutes before just propping himself up against the door-frame and digging out his phone again. He's paying more attention to the street outside than Ianto, so when he feels a hand on his arm and gets drawn along John snaps to attention with a degree of alarm. It's the hurry that really catches him the most, and he complies without a thought -- moving alongside Ianto quickly and freeing his arm to rest a hand on Ianto's back protectively. Just in case he needs to do some literal body guarding, or flatten him out of the way.

"What happened?" he whispers after a moment, when they're a few paces away but seemingly not being... pursued? His eyes dart warily along the lines of shops either side of them, just in case he's missing something. How on earth did Ianto upset people just buying shoes? Were they recognised? What is going on?

Ianto casts as subtle a glance as he can behind them but it doesn't appear as anyone is following, which is a relief. Still, he doesn't think it's very wise to linger, and he appreciates the fact that even though John is asking questions, he's doing so while listening to Ianto's request as well.

"The ring," he says quietly. "I had it out, the shopkeeper saw. He started to make a fuss. People were talking." He looks back to John. "Let's just make sure we get a few blocks between here and ourselves, yeah?" Spare him the awkward social situation that might arise. Spare the pair of them anything worse that might come from it for that matter. He doesn't think they really want the attention, given the present circumstances.

Ring? John squints, and it takes him a moment to put everything together before he finally works out exactly what they're talking about.

"Right," he says, with something like -- resignation? Mild irritation? "The thing Kirk gave you."

He didn't say 'Hot Date' or 'Boyfriend', at least, so that's one thing. Herding Ianto through the streets John largely tries to block line of sight to Ianto where he can until they're back out of the built up area, into slightly more wild paths -- for good or ill. His hands steer him vaguely, flitting between his shoulders and his back just in case he needs to yank him away at a moments notice. Eventually, though, they're away from the crowds. His eyes flit around, still, as if wary of something surprising them, but so far nothing has. So far, either anyone following them lost track or lost interest.

"Tell me you at least got something before we left," he says finally, because it doesn't feel like they should walk back after making a rapid exit like that.

He hears a note of — something in John's voice at that. He isn’t calling Jim names anymore and he suspects it’s because he had told him off for it. But there is still something there and now without the guise of the mild insults it stands out more.

His expression furrows at the other man. “I’m not completely useless,” he bites back, because he can’t help but be defensive at the comment. “Yes, the ring he gave me. I wanted to see that it would fit under the gloves I was looking at. The shopkeeper saw it. He thought it marked me as some hero that I’m obviously not, and started shoving things at me and making a fuss. And now here we are.”

He stops in his tracks and turns towards the other man, shaking his head. Unable to hold himself back from asking, “Look, why does this bother you so much?”

He's about to protest that surely Ianto doesn't have to wear it all the time when he grinds to a halt suddenly, and John is walking close enough that he barely avoids bumping into him before taking a step back.

"What?" he responds, and then realises that isn't perhaps eloquent. Then -- "Well, I guess it bothers me if you're getting in trouble because of this thing."

Since it does, after all. Whatever sort of gift it's meant to be, it isn't a good one if they're fleeing a shop because of it. Gifts that put you in danger are bad gifts, however fancy or expensive they might be.

Ianto lets out a scoffing noise that's not all that far away from a snort because honestly it's more than that and he knows that but if that's how John wants to play things then fine. He can play too, he supposes.

"I made a mistake," he replies, exasperatedly. "And he didn't give it to me to get me in trouble. He gave it to me to get me out of it. There's a spell or something on it. I don't know. I think it only works the one time, but it's a fail safe. In case I run into trouble. It's why he told me to wear it if I'm in danger, it's supposed to protect me. It could have spared me a literal headache back at the carriage if I had only remembered I had the damn thing in the first but I suppose if we're going up against these people again or worse, a dragon as well, it's better I saved it for the real fire fight I suppose."

"Fine," John says, because fine is the theme he's going for. "Sorry I didn't do a good enough job."

His hands drop away from Ianto completely at last, and he takes another step away to put more comfortable breathing space between them.

"Are we done here?"

With this, with shopping, in general he supposes.

"John," Ianto snaps back, because the other man is pushing him at this point. He's not even doing anything wrong per se, he's just avoiding his questions, hedging on specific topics, and being overly defensive on others, and Ianto wishes he knew why, he wishes that he'd just tell him, because they live together for god's sake, and John had gone off on his own yesterday and all but given him his blessing to spend the night with Jim, and now this? "For christ's sake."

No, they most certainly are not done.

"You ran off after a bandit and I was on my own and I should have put the damned ring on but I forgot and I thought I could handle myself and I nearly didn't. Is that what you want to hear? Because it's what happened. I'm sorry that I denied you from saving the day in two places at once. And for that matter if I had another I'd give it to you as well although perhaps I'd have to glue it to your damn finger because I certainly don't see you wearing anything that keeps yourself safe otherwise." Yes, John, that was a dig at your levels of self-preservation.

Saving the day.

John scowls openly and darts his eyes away, temper simmering under the surface and threatening to burst through any minute.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

He's fine, he's wearing what he normally wears -- besides his P90 and his sidearm anyway. How is it his fault the Natha took those off him? He's doing the best he can, but maybe that just isn't enough.

"Anyway I don't know what carriage you were escorting, but I'm pretty sure no saving the day happened! In fact I'm pretty sure we lost our cargo and now the whole of this place is probably going to be drowning in dragon fire! All because I was stupid, because of course they attacked us. I should have seen it coming! I did see it coming and I still --"

Still messed the whole thing up. He takes a controlling breath, flinches sharply and paces away from Ianto a few steps. He wants to punch something, to break something but he clamps down on the desire and squashes it as best he can.

Edited (belated typo correction) 2018-06-06 00:23 (UTC)

There is a silence that hangs in the air between them for a few seconds as John cuts himself off and steps away, because Ianto can’t honestly believe that he’s hearing him correctly. All because...?

“You can’t honestly blame yourself for what happened out there,” he says, a little incredulously because apparently John can, and he does. “It was a trap. We were outnumbered, and they were far better organized. You and the guard — you did the best you could. And you kept me out of trouble.” Mostly.

He takes a step towards the other man, shaking his head. “If there’s anyone at fault, then it’s me for distracting you. Weighing you down. But you’re only one man, John. You can’t do it all.”

"Yes I can," John says, and he means it. "That's my job. It was my job to keep this from happening."

He didn't, and now here they are. Rubbing at his face John tries to take a steadying breath, to count backwards, to try and think what Heightmeyer would say to him. Then it occurs to him with a jolt that Heightmeyer is dead because of him, too. Momentarily queasy, he moves toward one of the large tree trunks and leans a hand on it -- tries to rein himself back in bit by it.

"You weren't weighing me down," he adds finally, because sure -- maybe Ianto could do with a little more combat training but he was at least helping. He was stunning people. He wasn't just sitting there cowering while John worked around him. That all counts for something.

It hurts to hear John blame himself. Hurts because he can hear he believes himself, and it’s easy for him to say otherwise to the other man, but a lot more difficult for him to prove it to be true. He watches him struggle to take a deep breath before moving to lean on a nearby tree, and he feels wretched because John looks for a moment as though he’s about to be sick and it’s all because of his stupid sense of responsibility.

He wants to hold him and tell him that it will be okay but he settles for stepping forward to tentatively place a warm hand on the other man’s back, in quiet support. His voice is soft and low when he speaks.

“Well I don’t blame you. I think you were up against insurmountable odds, and you saved my skin out there more than once. More than twice. You’re not a superhero, but that’s why we’re supposed to keep an eye out for each other, yeah?” Though apparently Ianto's done a pretty poor job of it so far.

He tenses at the touch for a moment, forces himself to relax and calm the way his stomach is clenching.

"Yeah, well, impossible odds are kind of my thing. I should be good at it by now. It's just like a Thursday, right? Never could get the hang of Thursdays."

Although he's made that joke once already today, hasn't he? Off his game. This is no good. Pushing back away from the tree John presses his lips together unhappily, skips his eyes around the area as he tries to work out how to gently redirect. His eyes drop to where Ianto's hand has moved up to his arm and John fumbles for something to say, for some reassuring witticism, but the words all die before they even begin and he's just left regarding Ianto warily from behind his sunglasses.

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