nysalogs | [Open/Closed] There is life outside your apartment...

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[Open/Closed] There is life outside your apartment...

Who: Rodney McKay (

doubledoctornocitrus) & Annie Walker (

smithsonian), & TJ Johansen (

stargatemedic), & Felicity Smoak (

alergictonuts), & Ianto Jones (

torchwoodteaboy), & Various/Open
What: November Catchall
When: Various dates in November
Where: Olympia
Warning(s): Rodney is basically his own warning. I'm sorry.

Evening, Olympia (Closed to Annie Walker)

"You!"

Apropos of Nothing (Closed to Felicity)

Are you planetside?

Do you have a roommate?

Re: Your Destiny. (Closed to TJ)

This time, Rodney avails himself of the tools he's given, and looks up 'Tamara Johansen' in the little social media applet that's been treating him surprisingly well. With her as a medic, he should have figured she'd work in a clinic, and it's convenient that she's actually in Olympia. And, well, it's also convenient that the clinic is in Olympia as well, because he's stopped off at the...healers(????) once or maybe twice and if Beckett had practiced mystic bullshit, this planet's idea of the medical arts is beyond the pale.

Regardless. Rodney shows up at TJ's work with a smile and asks for her specifically.

A Stopped Clock (Closed to Ianto)

Whereas Rodney had, prior to his discussion with John, resolved to be Nice(tm) to Ianto, the discussion had had the surprise side-effect of forcing him to realize he actually needed to make an effort. Conveniently, the cafe-like place within which the discussion took place has pretty good coffee, which is as good an offering as any. And...honestly...Rodney has next-to-no clue what Ianto is actually like or would actually like.

Which probably wasn't good, considering the whole vague hand-gesture-y situation.

Armed with cafe coffee not made by someone whose optimal brew was 'nearly caustic with pesticide levels of caffeine', Rodney attempts to hunt Ianto down using his vague recollections of things that weren't his work and were also people-related, all while nervously trying not to admit to himself that it's important to not fuck up this actual human relationship. It's not even his relationship, which is somehow worse, because if he fucks up then it's not him who is going to be suffering the most.

And so, Ianto, Rodney comes bearing one (1) gift.

Making a Racket (Open -- Thesean Starter Housing)

Rodney keeps odd hours, even considering that they're on new planet and sometimes it can take a while for daily circadian rhythms to synchronize with diurnal cycles. Which means he's up in the middle of the night and there's crackling noises and flickering light coming from beneath his door as he does the Mad Science thing. He's bound and determined to learn how to make this world's technology for himself--and then try and apply a bit of his own know-how to it. But to do that, he's gotta break some eggs. So speak.

It's just very, very late and the apartments aren't very far apart.

Wildcard (Open -- Anywhere)

[Poke me for a custom starter elsewise! I'll match brackets or prose. Plx plot with me. :D]

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Ianto's pretty well aware that Rodney didn't really care much about who he was or -- anything about him really, he could barely even remember his name never mind anything else, beyond the fact that he had been a friend of John's. He does have a point, though. If they're to be living together, Rodney should at least try to make an effort. For John's sake, if not for his.

(Ianto's been trying all along, personally. Though he'd be lying himself if he didn't say that was also in part because he'd hoped that he could learn more about John from the other man in turn.)

He regards the other man for another long moment, sighing heavily before raising the coffee to take a sip of it. It's at least of decent quality, if nothing else.

"I've only got a little while," he says, resigning himself to this conversation. "I am technically only on break here. This being my place of work." He pauses a moment, before he has to ask, "How did you know I worked here, anyway? Was it John? -- Did he ask you to come here?" It is worth asking.

Rodney spares a moment for triumph when Ianto accepts his offering. His tiny internal fistpump translates into a brief, smug flash of a smile.

"Yes, yes, that's fine. This won't take very long." A waved hand dismisses that particular concern. "And John told me, yes, but no. He didn't ask me to come here and I certainly didn't tell him I was coming."

This was all Rodney's idea. Sorry, Ianto. Probably also why it's a...reasonably long time after lunch and the coffee is not quite as hot as it probably should be. He had to find the place, after all.

Mentally reviewing his list of John's-Boyfriend questions as well as the Acceptable Roommate questions, he doesn't waste any time in asking the first one that made it onto both lists:

"When do you usually go to bed? For your information, I often get distracted working on projects and stay up rather later. Am I going to need earplugs? I will buy earplugs, but I'd like to know up front if I'm going to need them."

Edited (ie the "is Ianto a Screamer" allusion edit) 2018-11-20 09:01 (UTC)

Ianto isn't certain what Rodney has come here to ask him but he certainly hadn't been expecting that. He opens his mouth and then shuts, fairly certain he's blushing dark enough that people would be able to see it from across the room if they wanted to, before he opens his mouth and does his best to collect himself enough to formulate a response.

"Well," Ianto says, raising his eyebrows as well as his coffee to take a careful sip from it in turn. "Are you asking me whether I'm going to continue to have sex with John, or are you asking me whether I think that you're going to be able to hear it? Because the answer to the first question is a definite yes, and the answer to the second question is -- maybe you should just buy the earplugs and then you'll have them either way."

He takes another careful sip of his coffee.

It's not that Rodney's deliberately trying to embarrass Ianto. His jaw is set and he has a gleam in his eye, sure, but this is, above all, a fact-finding mission. "Yes, yes, of course you were going to continue." He's trying not to sound annoyed and rather failing. "I was under the impression that was the whole point in sharing a room. Or a bed. Or whatever. Which is what precipitated this little meeting, if you'll recall."

More than annoyed, though, he's exasperated when he says, "That's why I asked ahead of time. Loud sex or snoring or literally anything else that might be an inconvenience to your roommates. I can't stand snoring, awake or asleep, especially." He can't get any more exasperated, but he can explain, "This is part of what you ask a roommate. They have lists full of important compatibility type questions."

The face that Ianto's making at Rodney is neither here nor there, but he's certainly not excited about being asked these questions about his personal life. More so because he's getting the feeling that the other man really does honestly want to know the answers to all of it, for better or worse.

"No, I don't snore," he replies, wearily. "And I'm not going to go out of my way to be obnoxious about sleeping with your friend, but I'm not going to go out of my my way to be quiet about it either. I don't know whether it's loud or not, alright? Why don't you ask him how loud I am yourself?"

These are not exactly bonding questions, Rodney.

"Because he's not going to answer me if I ask him," Rodney tells Ianto. Scandalous. John doesn't kiss and tell. At least Rodney assumes he's not going to when it's serious. That would be a by-proxy invasion of privacy and Rodney would never. (Ahem.) "And even if he would, the point isn't to ask him, it's to ask you."

He doesn't give Ianto any time to reply to that, however, before pouncing on the next ticky on his checklist of questions. "So." He snaps his fingers several times, half contemplative as he recalls what he'd wanted to ask, half prompting to make sure Ianto knows he's still in the hot-seat. "Foods. Favorites. Usual fare. Do you cook? You've, of course, been informed that all manner of citrus is thoroughly banned. Notwithstanding your excellent coffee, and of course whatever you make here--if you cook here do you prefer not to when you're home?"

Rapid-fire, half-on-top-of-each-other questions and observations, the lot of them, and Rodney half-turns at the end to actively start fishing around for his tablet to bring it out.

Ianto blinks slightly as Rodney snaps at him. Appreciating the thought that Rodney knows John well enough to understand that he'd probably not answer any of these questions for himself if he'd asked them of him about Ianto. Especially not the question about how loud he is. He's definitely not going to be living that one down anytime soon.

He takes another sip of his coffee to fortify himself against these rapid-fire questions before he can even attempt to answer them. Supposing he should be grateful that he's not continuing along the line he had started down.

"Yes, I cook," he answers. "I'm not a Michelin star chef, but I'm not terrible," he continues. "I've lived on my own for a while now and takeaway is expensive to eat all the time. I mean, not that I don't enjoy it but. I can make a mean spag bol?"

Tablet secured, Rodney settles it on the tabletop and nods rather impatiently at Ianto's answer. "Good, good. I can't cook." Ah. "Not that I want you to cook for me, I'm just. Sharing. That I don't cook. I'm often too busy. Or, maybe not busy, but preoccupied."

Yeah, Rodney's taking notes. His memory is like a vice—just not for people. He's going to play to his strengths here.

Next on the checklist. "So you'll tell me what places you do like for take out so I can also have your order. I prefer to be efficient when it comes to food, and there is a certain amount of food parity that is essential in a roommate situation." That's. Not actually question. The next is, however, an he reads it off verbatim. "Do you have hobbies?"

There. That's a getting-to-know question, isn't it? Just because it's on the list doesn't mean it's not also friendly. Rodney frowns at his tablet, then checks himself. "Uh, I mean. You must have hobbies. You can't simply mend socks and sleep with people's friends as your primary off-work preoccupations. So, ah, what. Are they?"

Ianto watches as the other man pulls out his tablet and does his best not to be exasperated. Honestly it's almost comedic, Rodney's commitment to this. Tracking him down nearly immediately after his conversation with John, while Ianto's still at work, asking questions and taking notes.

He raises his coffee to take another sip of his coffee and almost chokes on it again as Rodney continues. Mend socks and sleep with people's friends as your primary off-work preoccupations... It takes him a few moments to swallow and keep from further inhaling any more coffee before he can reply.

"Well, I do have a job," he points out, rather tetchily. He can't help himself. He feels more than a little on edge, to be so thoroughly investigated. And truth be told, he's no idea how to answer some of the questions Rodney's throwing at him in the first place, not knowing how he'd answer them in general, never mind with this man asking them.

Rodney peers at Ianto, eyebrows raised. "Yes, but a job isn't a hobby. That's a...a thing you do for money. I can't hardly imagine that working here is your life's calling any more than working at the Institute is going to satisfy me after calling Atlantis home."

No offense to the cafe. Rodney's sure it's lovely.

"Fine, though. No hobbies on record. Do you have a calling then? Are you going to stay here? You were, you were a..." Rodney was tipsy at the time, but he's a hundred times more likely to remember occupations than. Names. "Researcher. Torchwood. From that to coffee? Please."

No, a job isn't a hobby. Ianto's job used to consume his entire life and now that he's here in Nysa without it, he doesn't know what to do with himself. So no, Rodney, he doesn't really know what to tell you. He makes coffee. He takes care of John -- or tries to. But those aren't really the answers you're looking for.

He glances down at the drink in his hand, frowning at it before glancing away at the crowd around the cafe. Yes, Rodney. From Torchwood Field Agent, Archivist, everything in between, to a barista. Because he doesn't know what else to do with himself but he's got to do something to start helping John pay the bills.

He thinks of giving him a sarcastic answer -- it would serve him right for asking him such direct, personal questions. But he means well so in the end he replies, a bit hesitantly, "John has suggested that I... Re-purpose my skills from Torchwood and become a detective."

He does like digging around, solving puzzles, after all.

...Ianto might be attributing more good-will to Rodney than is at all deserved. Of course, of all the answers to his question about calling, Rodney did not expect the one given to him. It actually makes him pause over his tablet and blink.

"Really?" A detective? With only a guard force and not a police force, that would mean that John had literally suggested to Ianto that he become sort of private eye. A—a Sherlock Holmes. Of all the things that could possibly utilize the skills of someone with organizing a clandestine organization on their resume. With a frown, Rodney asks, "Did he suggest it because of your accent?"

Without even a breath after the question, he adds, somewhat more thoughtfully, "That's...actually not a terrible idea, considering the aliens. Would they have been the hiding-on-earth kind?"

Ianto raises an eyebrow at the other man's question. Because of the accent. Because of the accent, Rodney, really? (Is that really why John would have suggested such a thing? No, it can't be. Even Rodney seems to recognize that he has some sort of investigative talents. 'Considering the aliens' indeed.)

"They were indeed the 'hiding-on-earth kind'," Ianto replies, airily. Forgive him, Rodney, but you are beginning to bring out his snark. "They were in fact the hiding-on-earth, wanting-us-dead kind. In one form or another. Some of them had a more complicated plan than the next. There were the ones who wanted us to mess with the rift in time and space and essentially bring about the fracturing of time itself. And then there were those who just wanted to eat our faces off. Frankly, I preferred the latter. Much less trouble in the long-run," he adds, raising his coffee and tipping back another bracing swallow. Should he really be drinking another establishment's fare in his workplace? Probably not. Does he care at this point. God no.

"Wanting us dead, well. That's familiar," Rodney says, not even registering the snark. He gets that tone a lot. It's never impacted him before and it's probably not going to start now. "I can't say that I prefer the 'eat our faces off' kind, but it does make things a lot more simple. Time travel and...time anything, really, just takes so many resources and you really never have enough."

A note on his tablet now that they're back on track.

"So that's 'detective work' as a long-term goal." He gives the tablet a satisfied nod, then looks up at Ianto with that same satisfaction. His coffee offering had been accepted. "Good. Yes, well. I don't want to keep you too long, so just one more question."

He narrows his eyes and then asks, "Why John?"

And yes. The face he's wearing? He's definitely going to judge the answer.

Well, that's very well and good, as Ianto's definitely going to give Rodney his own face in return.

Why John? Does he really want the answer to this question, or is he asking out of some misguided sense that he ought to protect his friend from -- what exactly. Him? He doubts that -- no, he knows that he's not exactly what one might picture John going for, but. Is it really that difficult to imagine? That John might be interested in him too?

Ianto's face goes through another somersault of emotions before he picks up his coffee and takes a sip of it to hide behind for a moment and gather himself once more. God help him, does he even need to answer Rodney's question? What if his answer isn't good enough?

What if he isn't good enough.

"He believes in me," he says, finally. "It's who he is. A giver. From the first day I met him, he's been nothing but supportive and -- kind to me." He glances back up at Rodney in turn. "But you know John. He'd give you the shirt off of his back if he could." He twitches the other man the hint of a smile. "I'm just trying my best to make sure he's got another spare for himself again, if you catch my meaning."

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[Open/Closed] There is life outside your apartment...

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