Just Imagine...

Two Pans and a Pimp Suit

"Jack, you've got to be fucking kidding." Sam sighed, trying very hard to sit in a position that wasn't like the one John Hart was in. Jack could tell she meant business by the fact that she hadn't called him 'Jacksie'.
"What?" Jack asked indignantly.
"We can't possibly be about to go on a wild goose chase to look for some mysterious, probably imaginary objects because a stranger in a pimp suit told us to."
"He's not a stranger, Mom."
"And what's wrong with my clothes?" John spoke up, though he didn't seem at all offended by Sam's words. Probably because he didn't understand what she meant, Sam thought. "I thought pink was a good color in the twenty first century."
"Is there a time period where pink isn't a good color?" Tosh asked, sounding both curious and concerned.
"It just goes in and out of style a lot," John shrugged, "I just couldn't pass it up this time though. It matches the flag."
"What flag?" Gwen inquired.
"Can you guys stop giving him clout?" Sam hissed, "there's nothing he knows that we need to know."
"It's the, uhh..." John mused, ignoring her completely, "oh, what's the twenty first century english word for it? Pansexual! It matches the pansexual flag."
Sam abruptly set her coffee mug on the table to avoid crushing it in her hand.
"What? Did I say something wrong?" John asked innocently, "is that not the word for it? Jack?"
"Uh... no, that's it." Jack murmured, looking at Sam.
"I'm panphobic now." Sam said dryly.
"Aren't you pansexual, Sam?" Ianto asked, fighting back laughter.
"And that's important because?" Sam snarled at him.
"Wow, really?" John laughed, looking incredibly smug, "so we have something in common, then? Besides the hair-"
"IT'S NOT THE SAME COLOR!" Sam snapped, "Jacksie, are we done here?"
"Yes, go ahead," Jack murmured, hiding a smile, "Tosh, Owen, you two take the warehouse, Ianto, you and I can search the office building. Gwen, stay here for a minute, I wanna talk to you before you go out."
"I'm going with Owen and Tosh." Sam said firmly, though she was sweating a little.
"Fine." Jack replied, knowing that arguing was pointless.

Owen and Tosh laughed the entire way to the warehouse. Sam sat in the back, arms folded tightly across her chest and her cane rested across her lap.
"So what if he's pansexual too?" She muttered, "that doesn't mean we're the same. That doesn't mean I have to like him. Maybe he's a biphobic asshole, huh? That bastard."
"Sam, shut up, I'm driving." Owen chuckled, almost pleadingly.
"You think this is funny??" Sam demanded, "it's not funny!!"
"Sam, why are you upset about this?" Tosh asked, trying not to allow laughter into her voice, "it's alright if you and John label your sexuality the same way."
"I-" Sam began, then sighed, "it just grinds my gears, that's all. And I know he's gonna use it against me!"
"How could you possibly know that? You just met him."
"I know his type. Cocky sly motherfucker-"
"Does this bother you because it's another similarity you have to him?"
"WHAT?"
"Sam, you both sit the same way, you have the same attitude, similar personalities, the same fashion sense-"
"I would never wear that ungodly pink trash."
"Yes you would and you know it."
"Can you stop psychoanalyzing me??"
"I'm not! I'm just trying to help you understand why finding out that you and John Hart are both pansexual made you so mad."
"It didn't make me mad."
Tosh turned around in the passenger seat to give her a look. Sam's scowl deepened and she avoided eye contact.
"Fine," she sighed eventually, "it made me mad. Everything about this guy makes me mad."
"Because he's just like you and you can't stand it?" Tosh pressed.
Sam looked at her with an almost pleading expression.
"I can't possibly be that insufferable! Am I that insufferable???"
Owen had to pull over to avoid crashing the car. Once he and Tosh finally managed to stop laughing he simply said;
"No, Sam. You're not insufferable. You make us laugh too much for that."
"I guess that's one thing you don't have in common with John," Tosh added with a giggle, "you're funny."
"I wasn't trying to be funny..." Sam muttered, but she was covering her face to hide her blushing. "Don't try to make me feel better!"
Owen pulled the car back onto the road.
"Whatever you say, mate." He murmured.