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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Wow, okay. John can tell Ianto's upset, in fact he's pretty sure people back in Olympia can feel the ice from the glare he's giving off. He ignores it for the moment, focuses on shucking off his pants and sliding into the water -- ducking his head under then shaking water out of his hair a little. It feels instantly better, although John can still feel the threads of exhaustion clinging to him here and there.

"Just pretend we're at the beach," he says softly, "a... nudist fairy beach."

Which in a way is essentially... not far off.

Pretend that he's at the beach. Perhaps that's part of the reason he feels so irritable. He's never really cared for the ocean. Or the water in general. Not from this close up, at any rate. He didn't mind the quay so much, and working near the river had been fine. But it all comes back to things like swimming and camping and surfing and Ianto would much rather take a clean shower over a dip in a nudist fairy pool any day. He's trying not to be too negative, trying to appreciate what he has and the gestures that have been done for him, but there's so much to grate on him as well, and it's wearing him down. He feels worn down.

"You're so in your element," Ianto comments at last. His words equally soft and quiet, since they are in a public spot but he needs to get them out. To try and explain himself, so he feels less like a child throwing a tantrum, even if that is how he looks. "Even in a place like this. You just make me feel so..."

His face scrunches up at that, and John wades a little closer so he can keep his voice down.

"If you think I have experience with nudist fairy beaches, you'd be wrong."

John doesn't feel in his element at all, he's just compartmentalising. Maybe he's become too good at that, though. So good at pretending it just seems real.

It irritates him because he knows that John understands that isn't what he's meant, and that he decides to reply like that anyway. Irritates him because he's already irritated, and why not just turn the notch up further. It's not completely John's fault, and he recognizes that. Not his fault he's better at dealing with this, that he's better at climbing vines, that he's better in the outdoors, better at survival and combat skills and so many things they've needed in the past few days. It's not John's fault that Ianto isn't good at any of it, and that it bothers him he's not. That he doesn't feel as if he's very good at much at all and coming down off that high and being so confused as to what John wants from him doesn't help much either.

"I work in a basement in Cardiff," Ianto says, staring down into the water in front of him. "It may be the basement of an secret organization, but it's a basement nonetheless. It's my job to staff the tourist office. I make coffee. I order food. I clean up trash. I do research. I... Take care of Jack's dry cleaning. I do everything they need me to, and I'm good at my job. I like what I do, and I'm good at it. And now I'm here. In one of the most beautiful places I've ever been. On an alien planet. Surrounded by the most amazing things and I just." He laughs bitterly, raising his hands out of the water to run over his face before he looks up at the other man. "I don't know where I fit in. It's not like you really even need me here, I've only just slowed you down the whole way."

John studies Ianto for a long moment, taking in his uncertainty, then tilts his head slowly.

"Well, I worked in a floating ancient city. My job was to keep it safe and lead a reconnaissance team on missions. A team, because I'm pretty sure nobody who has ever met me would put me in charge of meeting new people alone. See, the point of a team is that everyone is good at different things. So you're here because you're good at things I'm not good at, and since we're here together to research dragons and bandits I think you have exactly the right skill set. I just had to get you here alive."

So really, if there's nobody to fight John is pretty sure his skill set is quickly going to go to waste here -- no matter what Ianto might believe. He's probably better suited to solving this puzzle.

Ianto takes in a long breath, letting it out slowly as he tries to force himself to relax. John is right, of course. He shouldn't expect so much of himself. He's used to working in a team scenario himself, and he never handled it all on his own there. Tosh did computers, Owen did medical, Gwen handled the people, and Ianto handled the research. The logic. Helping to piece their findings together and give them more to work with, so that Jack might direct them where to go from there. Or at least try to.

He watches the other man for a long moment, before loosening his arms across his chest. He really isn't angry with John. Like he's said, he had set out to get him here alive. And he'd done exactly that. He'd gone above and beyond in doing that, as far as Ianto was concerned. In fact...

"And part of that task was insuring that I didn't sunburn?" he asks, but the words are mild now. Because as irritable as he is, he knows he's not being fair, and he hasn't missed the small self-deprecating bit of what John's said, reminding him of why he had insisted on joining him. Even if he really isn't very well-equipped for, well, any of this.

Okay, smart-ass. John lofts an eyebrow slowly, makes a big show of judging Ianto.

"Red's not your colour. Water reflects and amplifies the sun, by the way, just a reminder."

Since Ianto is in the water right now, and hasn't re-applied his sunblock in a bit. He drops under the water again for a second, rolls his shoulders with a wince and rubs water over his face and neck.

"Anyway, about two-thirds of my skill set is absolutely useless on this planet remember. There are no helicopters or planes to fly, the most modern thing is my phone, my extremely questionable knowledge of alien technology doesn't apply and nobody cares about Deadpool. Your skills are at least transferable!"

Ianto raises an eyebrow at Deadpool, John, really? But doesn't comment on it (for now). He sinks into the water a little further at the mention of his lack of sunblock though (thanks for that John) until everything but his head is submerged. He'll find it within himself to dunk under eventually, he just. Needs to build himself up to it.

"You sell yourself short," he says, after a moment. He'd built them a shelter out of leaves for god's sake. He'd saved Ianto from -- he doesn't even know how many bandits. If he had actually had a concussion then Ianto doesn't doubt he'd have taken remarkable care of him then as well. There is so much more to him than he understands. And maybe that's John's point as well, he supposes. About himself.

"Anyway, I know for a fact that you have more interests than that," he adds, quirking a little smile at him in turn. "You quote far too many pop culture references at me for it to be otherwise."

"Sure, but most of the people here don't know what they are. I had to explain what a movie was to someone."

To Cain, actually, but it's more the principle than the individual here. He wades back toward his bag and stands on the shore rummaging a moment, pulls out a tin with a bar of soap and begins lathering it into his hands.

"Besides, the point was that you are selling yourself short -- so don't give me that."

It was his point first, you can't steal it!

His smile flicks wider at John's chiding before Ianto heaves out a sigh and, reluctantly, dips his head fully under the water. Surfacing and scrubbing his hands over his face to keep it out of his eyes. Unlike John, Ianto has no soap he's brought with him so unless he feels like sharing, he'll just have to settle for a soak and hope he gets clean enough.

"Look, I just. It's hard to feel so helpless. That's all. I don't meant to be." He gestures vaguely at himself, to indicate the mercurial mood he's fallen into. "Like this. I just. I don't know." He floats his hands around in the water around himself, not quite looking at the other man as he continues, "I've never liked feeling so far out of my depth. I'm sorry that I'm not..." Handling any of this very well, truth be told.

"You're fine," he says, and equally he knows what Ianto means -- but this isn't about him, as much as it would be easy to make it that way. Soapy fingers run vaguely though his hair in a weak attempt to try and get it cleaner. It will probably dry in wild spikes, but maybe he can pass it off as a fashion statement. Then, leaving the soap dish on the ground, he wades back into the water and ducks himself under -- rinsing off the soap and shaking water from his hair again. "Anyway," he continues, "your feet are still touching the bottom as far as I can see. So you're not out of your depth yet!"

... If this is meant to be literal or figurative is anyone's guess.

"Grab the soap if you want it," he adds. He's fine sharing.

Ianto watches as the other man washes his hair, floating his hands on the water because he's not really brave enough to float himself. He huffs out something of a laugh at the comment about his depth -- he really should have expected something as much, all things considered -- before turning to look aside at the other man at his offer. Sharing the soap. Well, he would like to get clean... "I, ehm. Sure, thanks."

Hesitantly, because he'd largely been using the water to hide his body, he wades out to fetch the soap and work up a lather between his hands before working it into his hair. Trying to do it all as fast as he can so he can get back into the coverage of the water as quick as he can. Once he's satisfied he's done enough, he wades back into the water and dunks himself again as well. Gasping slightly as he surfaces once more and rinses the soap out. It's easier to feel more human when he's cleaner, that's for certain.

"Well," he says, after a moment. "At least you won't have to start holding your breath around me."

"Trust me, you're not that bad."

John has definitely been around worse smells in his life, and sweaty people are something he's used to. He ducks to rinse his hair again, runs fingers through it and checks they're coming away without any soap on them.

"Feeling better?"

Since he was definitely not feeling great before. Glancing sideways again John tries to study Ianto for a reaction, to assess if there's something more to it he's missed or if it's just been a tiring few days.

Ianto sinks further into the water a little self-consciously, because he knows how he was acting and he knows that John was aware of it too. And no, he was most certainly not feeling great before at all.

After a small pause to contemplate his response and feel himself out, he nods. "Yeah," he replies. "Yeah, I do. Look, I'm. Sorry. I don't mean to..." He trails off awkwardly, because he doesn't really think either of them want him to say more about the why or the hows. John's support does mean a lot to him, though, and he hasn't meant to imply otherwise.

He sighs softly. "Anyway, we're here now. Hopefully with a little food and a decent night's rest, we'll both feel a little more human come tomorrow morning, yeah?"

"Nothing to apologise for."

Really, it's fine. John doesn't mind too much. It's not as if he's never caused Ianto problems, he knows he's been nonsensically difficult now and then.

"Don't like water?" he prompts finally, because Ianto is a little fidgety and he figures it might be partly that. Maybe he's not a strong swimmer, worried about getting out of his depth? Which is nothing to judge -- John thinks it's healthy to be afraid of water. The ocean, for example, is something anyone with common sense should be nervous of. He loves it anyway though, with a healthy dose of respect.

Ianto's eyes slide to the side towards John as he questions him, before he shakes his head slightly in response. Is it that obvious? He supposes it must be. Or perhaps John is just getting to know how to read him pretty well, after spending all this time with him.

"Not really, no," he admits. Losing some of the bravado he'd adopted when they'd spoken at the Coalition, about John teaching him surfing. In truth, he gets drowning dreams and it's probably not a good idea to venture out further than he can stand. "City boy, remember?" he points out. "I prefer to keep my head above the water. Both literally and figuratively."

John thinks for a moment then moves closer to Ianto, holding out a hand to him.

"It's pretty sensible to be afraid of water, but there's no tide here. No waves. If you don't trust the water, trust me. I've had water egress training. That means they strap me upside down in a fake cockpit, throw me in a pool and I have to get myself out. If I can get myself out of that, I can definitely get you out of here without breaking a sweat."

So, if you want to try and practice swimming without drowning? John is okay with helping you out here. There's no better place to try it, after all. This is much safer than the ocean.

He isn't sure why John is reaching out to him at first, but Ianto reaches out to take the hand that John offers him nonetheless. Water egress training. Ianto's frown deepens as he listens to John describe it and tries to imagine the training itself. It honestly sounds like some of Ianto's more vivid drowning nightmares, truth be told.

"Trust you?" Ianto echoes, a question in his tone as he does. Trust him to do what? Not that he doesn't. Trust John, that is. He probably trusts him the most out of anyone on the planet, in all honesty. It's the water that Ianto doesn't trust. And why shouldn't he? It's like John had said, it's only sensible. Especially because Ianto himself is really no swimmer at all.

In answer, he takes a slow step deeper into the water.

"Can you swim at all?" he prompts, because it's possible Ianto can't -- but it's also possible he can and just had a bad experience, or is nervous in anything that isn't a pristine man-made pool. "It's fine either way, we can work with it."

There's no judgement in his tone, either. He doesn't mind. It's something that's important to learn, so he can be patient.

Is he supposed to be following John out towards the deeper water? Because if so he's definitely staying put right where he is, his hand still in John's though there's a dubious look on his face as the other man moves.

"A little," he supplies. Because it's true. He'd probably be able to make it from point A to point B if his life depended on it. But it's by no means a solid stroke of any sort, and he'd probably tire out quickly. He's well aware of all of those points. He's also got vivid memories of Lisa -- or the cyberman that used to be Lisa, he supposes -- throwing him across the Hub and face-first into one of the pools of standing water. And everything going dark from there. That hadn't necessarily been a matter of swimming however so much as the fact that he'd landed on his head.

"What are we working with, exactly?" he asks warily.

"You," John prompts, "and water. I recommend letting yourself float a little. You'll want to tense up at first and that's okay, we'll stay where you can put your feet down and I'll be here."

Ready to help if he starts splashing and flailing around. Ianto isn't likely to drown. Honestly, it's far more likely he'd drown John first by getting into a panicking and pulling him under -- but John isn't going to tell him that.

Ianto stares at the other man for a long second. Letting himself float. He supposes he should have seen this coming, all things considered. He supposes that there's nothing for him to truly be afraid of in such a situation either, considering the fact that his feet do still touch the ground and John is still right there. All the same, he can feel the tension in his body rising even at just the thought of it.

"Floating," Ianto repeats, before glancing around them at the water itself. "You do realize that this is what amounts to a communal bath, yeah? And you're trying to teach me swimming techniques in it?" It's a weak argument, he knows. It's the first thing that comes to his mind at the thought of trying to lay back and float in the water, though. All the same, he doesn't let go of the other man's hand or step back to shallower water.

"I do, and like I said. There's no tide here. No current. The water is perfectly still, and I'm standing next to you. So, if you're going to try anywhere this is the safest you can possibly get."

He lofts a eyebrow at him, doesn't try to encourage him any deeper or let go. It's Ianto's choice in the end, after all. If he really doesn't want to that's fine too. They can finish up and get something to eat instead.

Ianto takes in a deep breath as he glances around the area once again, letting it out slowly before shaking his head at the other man. “If we both drown because of this, it will be on your head, you know,” Ianto gripes, his hand tightening on John’s before with another sigh he steps closer still.

“Alright, fine,” he says. “Just tell me what I’m supposed to do. I told you I’m not good at this. It wasn’t a figure of speech, you know. I’m goinf to sink like a rock.” If he’s supposed to be doing something here he’s going to need coaxing through every step. He will do it. Just very reluctantly.

"You're not going to drown. Here, just -- keep hold of my hand and try to float on your back."

He runs an arm around behind Ianto, bracing him ready to take his weight. Maybe this will work? Maybe not, he'll see.

"You will feel like you're going to sink if you're tense, but I'll hold you up -- alright? Trying to breathe, to relax."

Then, eventually, he might calm down enough to float on his own.

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