Ficlet: Hot Weather Food

[badly_knitted]

 


Title: Hot Weather Food
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Owen, Ianto, Jack, Team.
Rating: G
Word Count: 558
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Cardiff is languishing in a heatwave, so Ianto has organised a suitably cool lunch for the team.
Written For: My Mini Summer Bingo Prompt ‘Watermelon’ at fffc.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
 
 

 
“Ugh,” groaned Owen, slumping back into his chair, one arm dangling. He looked as limp as a wet rag, his t-shirt sticking to him uncomfortably. Plucking at it with thumb and forefinger, he tried to peel it away from his chest only to have it stick again the moment he let go, so after a couple of tries, he gave up. “This is disgustin’, it’s way too hot! Someone remind me why I was looking forward to summer before it got here?”

 
“Because you were tired of being cold and wet all the time?” Ianto suggested mildly.
 

“Oh yeah, I dimly remember. I must’ve been out of my mind! Now I’ve gone from cold and wet to hot and sticky, which is even worse. What I wouldn’t give for some cooling Welsh rain right about now. I’d even go out and stand in it; anything to cool off. Feels like I might melt if I so much as move.” He frowned down at his damp t-shirt. “On second thoughts, maybe I already am.”
 

“Suck it up, Owen. It got way hotter than this on the Boeshane peninsula where I grew up,” Jack said, leaning on the railing outside his office and smirking at his medic’s discomfort. He looked as cool as the proverbial cucumber, not a drop of sweat in sight. In fact, unlike the rest of his team he seemed to be relishing the heatwave.
 

“Leave off, Jack,” Ianto chided. “It might be fine for you, but we’re British, not Boeshanian; we weren’t designed for these kinds of temperatures.”

 
Jack raised his hands in surrender. “Fine, I just thought I’d mention it.”
 

“Well don’t.” Even Ianto had given in to the heat and for once was dressed in a short-sleeved cotton shirt and loose trousers instead of one of his trademark tailored three-piece suits. “It just makes us feel worse than we already do. Wouldn’t be so bad if we were lazing around on a beach, but we’ve still got to work. We don’t have the luxury of skiving off.”
 

“Alright, don’t bite my head off!” Jack grinned unrepentantly, not the least bit fazed by his lover’s grumpiness. “Speaking of biting, is lunch ready yet? I’m starving!”
 

“Oh God, please don’t tell me you ordered pizza, not today!” Owen’s tone was perilously close to a whine. “It’s way too hot for that!”
 

“Would I do that to you on a day like this?” Ianto asked innocently.
 

“Wouldn’t put it past you,” Owen grouched. “You can be a sadistic bastard when you feel like it, taking fiendish revenge on us we least expect it.”

 
Ianto conceded that point with a slight nod. “That’s true, but I’m not a masochist. I wouldn’t inflict hot pizza on myself when I already feel like I’m roasting; I thought we’d all prefer something cold.” Ianto disappeared in the direction of the kitchen only to reappear a few minutes later carrying a tray laden with sandwiches, and dishes of something Owen couldn’t quite make out from where he was sprawled at his workstation.

 
“What’s in the dishes?”
 

“Cold watermelon straight from the fridge; refreshing and thirst-quenching, just the thing to keep us all hydrated on a hot day.”
 

“Watermelon? Gimme!” Owen said, pushing himself upright in his seat and making grabby hands until Ianto passed him one of the dishes and a spoon. “Don’t let it go to your head, mate, but sometimes you’re a bloody genius!”

 
Ianto smiled. “Thank you, Owen; nice of you to notice.”
 

 
The End