Fic: One Sunny Morning
Mar. 6th, 2025 05:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
badly_knittedTitle: One Sunny Morning
Author:
badly_knittedCharacters: Ianto, Jack.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: A trip into the Brecon Beacons on a glorious spring day turns out to be a lot less enjoyable than Ianto and Jack expected.
Word Count: 1284
Written For: Prompt 218 – Caught In The Rain at
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fandomweekly.Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters. They belong to the BBC.
The weather had been glorious over the last few days, the kind of idealised spring conditions everyone dreamed about but almost never got to experience, because… well, that was Britain, wasn’t it? Whatever the season, you could practically guarantee that it would be wet, and probably cold. When good weather happened, it tended to take people by surprise.
Thanks to the blue skies and mild temperatures, for the first time in memory, the thought of having to make the long trek out to the Brecon Beacons to deal with an emergency landing didn’t fill Ianto with dread, even though it was so early that the sun had barely risen. A brisk hike in the country on a bright, sunny morning sounded like the perfect way to start the day, especially since it would just be him and Jack.
Naturally, someone would have to stay behind and man the Hub, just in case anything should happen. It wasn’t as if they could switch the Rift off while they went out of town, and Cardiff’s Weevil population couldn’t be counted on to behave even when there was someone around to deal with them, but since the rest of the team weren’t in yet, they’d been nominated for the task of minding the store. Ianto almost wished he could see their faces when they found the notes Jack had written and stuck to their computer screens; maybe he’d check the Hub’s CCTV later. In the meantime, the trip out to the Beacons was proving delightful. They drove with the SUV’s windows rolled down so they could fill their lungs with the fresh, fragrant spring air.
In the driver’s seat, for once not driving like he was trying to break the land speed record, Jack was all smiles. “Days like this, it feels good to be alive!”
Ianto didn’t bother replying; he’d been thinking exactly the same thing, but he was perfectly content to put his brain on standby and simply bask in the warmth while Jack took care of getting them where they needed to go.
Things didn’t start to go downhill until after they’d parked the car, as close as possible to where the distress signal was originating from, and they’d set out on foot. Jack, in order to avoid having to make what he considered an unnecessary detour, decided they should cut through a field of cows, which seemed fair enough; Ianto couldn’t see any reason why they shouldn’t, as long as they took the time to properly close the gate behind them. It wouldn’t do for the cows to get out and wander onto the road.
Unfortunately, what they both failed to notice was that one of the cows was a bull, and he didn’t take kindly to their intrusion. By the time they’d sprinted to the far side of the field and scrambled through the fence, scratching themselves to glory in the process, they were both gasping for breath, and Ianto was reasonably certain he’d just smashed his own personal record for the two-hundred metre dash.
“Well, that was bracing,” he said when he was finally able to speak. He eyed the bull, which was glaring belligerently at them over the fence. “But when we come back, I think we should consider taking the long way around instead of challenging him to another race.”
“Might be wise,” Jack agreed. “We got lucky this time, we had a head start on him, but I’m not eager for a re-match.” He slapped Ianto on the back. “Right, no point standing here all morning. Onward and upward!”
That was more than merely a figure of speech. Hefting their backpacks onto their shoulders again, they set off up the steep slope, wending their way ever deeper into the Beacons, putting the bull out of their minds and focusing on the task ahead of them.
It took them almost two hours of steady hiking to reach the high valley where the damaged ship had landed, and a further two-and-a-half hours to help the quartet of Gilvanians to repair the damage to their directional jets. They’d become clogged when the Rift had spat their small craft out somewhere above Radyr, in the midst of a flock of feral pigeons. Alien craft were seldom designed to cope with large quantities of shredded pigeon gumming up their engines.
While Ianto wasn’t especially upset about the demise of the pigeons, which were something of a nuisance in and around Cardiff, cleaning their remains out of the ship’s air intakes was a messy and tedious business, and he made a mental note to add heavy-duty rubber gloves to the standard equipment in every field kit. Latex gloves were fine for most things, but they weren’t especially durable; they’d destroyed every pair they had with them in the first half hour. When the job was finally finished, he and Jack went through an entire packet of wet wipes just cleaning the worst of the muck off their hands.
“I look like I’ve been working in a slaughterhouse,” Ianto muttered to himself, picking shredded, bloodstained feathers off his jeans as Jack exchanged a few final words with the grateful Gilvanian captain. He straightened up to watch as the small spacecraft lifted into the air, rising rapidly into a blue sky now marred with clouds. Then the main drive kicked in, and it was out of sight before he could blink.
“Right, now the fun’s over we should probably head back.” For want of anything else he could use without incurring Ianto’s wrath, Jack wiped his hands as clean as he could manage on the short grass before hoisting his backpack onto one shoulder.
Ianto glanced around the shallow valley, littered with pieces of pigeon, and decided that in this case cleanup was unnecessary; scavengers would deal with the carnage far better than he could. Picking up his own backpack, he followed Jack back up onto the ridge, feeling the wind beginning to tug at his clothes. He frowned up at the gathering clouds; being out in the middle of nowhere suddenly seemed a lot less appealing, and he hurried to catch up with his lover, who was striding along oblivious to the rapidly deteriorating weather.
They’d gone no more than half a mile before the first heavy raindrops started to fall, and Ianto hunched his shoulders, wishing he hadn’t left the rain gear in the car in order to make more room in their packs for tools and equipment.
“Great,” he grumbled to Jack. “Not only are we adorned with bits of pigeon, now it looks like we’re going to get drenched.” Before he’d finished speaking, a gust of wind drove a squall of icy rain straight into their faces. Ianto flinched, shuddered, but trudged doggedly on.
Jack glanced at him in surprise. “Didn’t you bring an umbrella? I thought you always had one in your bag of tricks.”
Ianto graced his lover with his best withering look. “What use would an umbrella be in this wind?”
“Waterproofs then.”
“They’re in the car, because you insisted on bringing that alien welder thing, the one that weighs five pounds and that we didn’t even use. The only way I could fit it in your pack was by taking a few of the bulkier items out.”
“Oh.”
At that moment, the heavens opened, rain hammering down on them, and nothing remotely resembling shelter in sight, not even a few rocks that might shield them from the biting wind. Ianto groaned. “So much for the beautiful spring weather. Today just keeps getting worse.”
Jack shrugged. “Look on the bright side; at least the rain’s washing away the pigeon bits.”
Ianto sighed. Some days he really hated his job.
The End
Thanks to the blue skies and mild temperatures, for the first time in memory, the thought of having to make the long trek out to the Brecon Beacons to deal with an emergency landing didn’t fill Ianto with dread, even though it was so early that the sun had barely risen. A brisk hike in the country on a bright, sunny morning sounded like the perfect way to start the day, especially since it would just be him and Jack.
Naturally, someone would have to stay behind and man the Hub, just in case anything should happen. It wasn’t as if they could switch the Rift off while they went out of town, and Cardiff’s Weevil population couldn’t be counted on to behave even when there was someone around to deal with them, but since the rest of the team weren’t in yet, they’d been nominated for the task of minding the store. Ianto almost wished he could see their faces when they found the notes Jack had written and stuck to their computer screens; maybe he’d check the Hub’s CCTV later. In the meantime, the trip out to the Beacons was proving delightful. They drove with the SUV’s windows rolled down so they could fill their lungs with the fresh, fragrant spring air.
In the driver’s seat, for once not driving like he was trying to break the land speed record, Jack was all smiles. “Days like this, it feels good to be alive!”
Ianto didn’t bother replying; he’d been thinking exactly the same thing, but he was perfectly content to put his brain on standby and simply bask in the warmth while Jack took care of getting them where they needed to go.
Things didn’t start to go downhill until after they’d parked the car, as close as possible to where the distress signal was originating from, and they’d set out on foot. Jack, in order to avoid having to make what he considered an unnecessary detour, decided they should cut through a field of cows, which seemed fair enough; Ianto couldn’t see any reason why they shouldn’t, as long as they took the time to properly close the gate behind them. It wouldn’t do for the cows to get out and wander onto the road.
Unfortunately, what they both failed to notice was that one of the cows was a bull, and he didn’t take kindly to their intrusion. By the time they’d sprinted to the far side of the field and scrambled through the fence, scratching themselves to glory in the process, they were both gasping for breath, and Ianto was reasonably certain he’d just smashed his own personal record for the two-hundred metre dash.
“Well, that was bracing,” he said when he was finally able to speak. He eyed the bull, which was glaring belligerently at them over the fence. “But when we come back, I think we should consider taking the long way around instead of challenging him to another race.”
“Might be wise,” Jack agreed. “We got lucky this time, we had a head start on him, but I’m not eager for a re-match.” He slapped Ianto on the back. “Right, no point standing here all morning. Onward and upward!”
That was more than merely a figure of speech. Hefting their backpacks onto their shoulders again, they set off up the steep slope, wending their way ever deeper into the Beacons, putting the bull out of their minds and focusing on the task ahead of them.
It took them almost two hours of steady hiking to reach the high valley where the damaged ship had landed, and a further two-and-a-half hours to help the quartet of Gilvanians to repair the damage to their directional jets. They’d become clogged when the Rift had spat their small craft out somewhere above Radyr, in the midst of a flock of feral pigeons. Alien craft were seldom designed to cope with large quantities of shredded pigeon gumming up their engines.
While Ianto wasn’t especially upset about the demise of the pigeons, which were something of a nuisance in and around Cardiff, cleaning their remains out of the ship’s air intakes was a messy and tedious business, and he made a mental note to add heavy-duty rubber gloves to the standard equipment in every field kit. Latex gloves were fine for most things, but they weren’t especially durable; they’d destroyed every pair they had with them in the first half hour. When the job was finally finished, he and Jack went through an entire packet of wet wipes just cleaning the worst of the muck off their hands.
“I look like I’ve been working in a slaughterhouse,” Ianto muttered to himself, picking shredded, bloodstained feathers off his jeans as Jack exchanged a few final words with the grateful Gilvanian captain. He straightened up to watch as the small spacecraft lifted into the air, rising rapidly into a blue sky now marred with clouds. Then the main drive kicked in, and it was out of sight before he could blink.
“Right, now the fun’s over we should probably head back.” For want of anything else he could use without incurring Ianto’s wrath, Jack wiped his hands as clean as he could manage on the short grass before hoisting his backpack onto one shoulder.
Ianto glanced around the shallow valley, littered with pieces of pigeon, and decided that in this case cleanup was unnecessary; scavengers would deal with the carnage far better than he could. Picking up his own backpack, he followed Jack back up onto the ridge, feeling the wind beginning to tug at his clothes. He frowned up at the gathering clouds; being out in the middle of nowhere suddenly seemed a lot less appealing, and he hurried to catch up with his lover, who was striding along oblivious to the rapidly deteriorating weather.
They’d gone no more than half a mile before the first heavy raindrops started to fall, and Ianto hunched his shoulders, wishing he hadn’t left the rain gear in the car in order to make more room in their packs for tools and equipment.
“Great,” he grumbled to Jack. “Not only are we adorned with bits of pigeon, now it looks like we’re going to get drenched.” Before he’d finished speaking, a gust of wind drove a squall of icy rain straight into their faces. Ianto flinched, shuddered, but trudged doggedly on.
Jack glanced at him in surprise. “Didn’t you bring an umbrella? I thought you always had one in your bag of tricks.”
Ianto graced his lover with his best withering look. “What use would an umbrella be in this wind?”
“Waterproofs then.”
“They’re in the car, because you insisted on bringing that alien welder thing, the one that weighs five pounds and that we didn’t even use. The only way I could fit it in your pack was by taking a few of the bulkier items out.”
“Oh.”
At that moment, the heavens opened, rain hammering down on them, and nothing remotely resembling shelter in sight, not even a few rocks that might shield them from the biting wind. Ianto groaned. “So much for the beautiful spring weather. Today just keeps getting worse.”
Jack shrugged. “Look on the bright side; at least the rain’s washing away the pigeon bits.”
Ianto sighed. Some days he really hated his job.
The End
(no subject)
Date: 2025-03-06 11:55 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2025-03-07 11:26 am (UTC)Thank you!