Disclaimers: Torchwood, Jack and Ianto belong to the BBC, RTD, etc. The monkey is Ianto's.

Request on my LiveJournal for a Jack/Ianto drabble, prompt 'monkeys'.

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The monkey stared at him. Jack stared back. "Yan, why the hell do you have a monkey on your bedside cabinet?"

"It was my favourite toy as a child, sir. I like to keep him around."

Jack shrugged and went back to the task at hand; ravaging the aforementioned Ianto Jones to within an inch of his life. A kiss here, a caress there, and a pinch just there. Ianto was putty in his hands, and yet something seemed... off. Jack could play Ianto like a finely tuned instrument normally, yet tonight...

He could feel the beady eyes of the monkey staring at him. His shoulder blades itched under its scrutiny, and he had the unsettling feeling that the thing was judging him. "It's no good, Ianto, I can't do this. The monkey is watching us."

Ianto burst into amazed laughter. "You're from the 51st century where there are no sexual taboos, and will proposition anything that smiles at you. You've watched Owen and Gwen shag on the CCTV, and you don't give a damn who sees us going at it in the Hub... yet a stuffed monkey puts you off your stride?"

"It's irrational, I know!" Jack admitted. "I don't know why the stupid monkey is unnerving me so much. I've never had a problem with them before!"

"Maybe you know it knows you're trying to steal my virtue," Ianto suggested, biting his lip to stop himself laughing again. He reached out and turned the monkey so it was facing the other way. "There, now he's looking at the neighbours who are no doubt watching us through the window. Better now?"

Jack gave the back of the monkey's head a filthy look before turning his attention back to Ianto. "Yeah, much better. Now, where were we..."

As Ianto's snorts of laughter turned into moans of delight, the monkey glared furiously at the wall.

Fin.