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m_findlowTitle Home for Christmas - Part 11
Author/Artist m_findlow
Length/Size of work 477 words
Summary Ianto wanted Jack home for Christmas, but got Jack’s home instead.
Rating PG
Warnings None
Other content notes Using Prompt #4 - Silent
Fandom Torchwood
Pairing Jack/Ianto
Disclaimer Torchwood sadly doesn’t belong to me, but I treat it better.
Jack reached into his pocket and extracted the heavy wad of keys that usually resided there. With a bit of picking through them, he located one that fit into the lock on the front door and twisted it.
Ianto raised an eyebrow at him. ‘You always keep a key on you for a place you probably haven't visited in twenty years just in case?’
Jack looked at him in askance. ‘Don’t be silly. I spent half the afternoon trawling through my old stuff looking for this baby. I was starting to think I’d never find it.’ He really did have way too many keys, and far too many that he no longer remembered what they belonged to. The lock was a bit stiff, full of crusted salt air, but with a bit of persuasion, the twisting motion finally released the tumblers. Age before beauty, he said, gesturing for Ianto to precede him inside.
The smell of mustiness hit them both as they crossed the threshold. Jack fumbled in the dark trying to find the light switch he knew was near the door, fingers brushing the plastic knob and flipping it. When nothing happened he flipped it back the other way.
'Someone hasn't been paying their power bills,' Ianto teased. He pulled off his gloves and pocketed them before bringing out his phone and using its ambient light to see better. Jack did the same, activating the torchlight on it. Ianto had forced the upgraded device on him last month, having given up sourcing Jack's old model which was by now about five years out of production, for every time he broke one in the line of duty. he still couldn't quite get used to all the glass screens and funny menus, but having a torch on it was a definite bonus. Ianto had yet to upgrade his own. His wasn't a regular casualty of the job.
'Well, it’s got your same atrocious taste in furnishings,' Ianto commented, running a finger over a dust laden chintz armchair that had been the height of fashion when Jack had first moved in. It was a chair Jack remembered sitting in, his baby daughter clutched in his arms as he cooed at her, long before Lucia had left him. The house he’d abandoned but not the chair that hung heavy with good memories. 'I think I'm glad for the blocked nose,' Ianto said. 'I don’t think I could take the smell of so much neglect.'
'I’m never going to win housekeeper of the year,' Jack replied.
'Not even close.'
Inside there was nothing but silence which was giving the place a sense of creepiness. Even the wind outside was barely a muffled breeze.
'I think I liked it better when it was creaking,' Ianto said. 'Noisy houses are so much nicer than quiet ones where trouble lies in wait for you.'
Author/Artist m_findlow
Length/Size of work 477 words
Summary Ianto wanted Jack home for Christmas, but got Jack’s home instead.
Rating PG
Warnings None
Other content notes Using Prompt #4 - Silent
Fandom Torchwood
Pairing Jack/Ianto
Disclaimer Torchwood sadly doesn’t belong to me, but I treat it better.
Jack reached into his pocket and extracted the heavy wad of keys that usually resided there. With a bit of picking through them, he located one that fit into the lock on the front door and twisted it.
Ianto raised an eyebrow at him. ‘You always keep a key on you for a place you probably haven't visited in twenty years just in case?’
Jack looked at him in askance. ‘Don’t be silly. I spent half the afternoon trawling through my old stuff looking for this baby. I was starting to think I’d never find it.’ He really did have way too many keys, and far too many that he no longer remembered what they belonged to. The lock was a bit stiff, full of crusted salt air, but with a bit of persuasion, the twisting motion finally released the tumblers. Age before beauty, he said, gesturing for Ianto to precede him inside.
The smell of mustiness hit them both as they crossed the threshold. Jack fumbled in the dark trying to find the light switch he knew was near the door, fingers brushing the plastic knob and flipping it. When nothing happened he flipped it back the other way.
'Someone hasn't been paying their power bills,' Ianto teased. He pulled off his gloves and pocketed them before bringing out his phone and using its ambient light to see better. Jack did the same, activating the torchlight on it. Ianto had forced the upgraded device on him last month, having given up sourcing Jack's old model which was by now about five years out of production, for every time he broke one in the line of duty. he still couldn't quite get used to all the glass screens and funny menus, but having a torch on it was a definite bonus. Ianto had yet to upgrade his own. His wasn't a regular casualty of the job.
'Well, it’s got your same atrocious taste in furnishings,' Ianto commented, running a finger over a dust laden chintz armchair that had been the height of fashion when Jack had first moved in. It was a chair Jack remembered sitting in, his baby daughter clutched in his arms as he cooed at her, long before Lucia had left him. The house he’d abandoned but not the chair that hung heavy with good memories. 'I think I'm glad for the blocked nose,' Ianto said. 'I don’t think I could take the smell of so much neglect.'
'I’m never going to win housekeeper of the year,' Jack replied.
'Not even close.'
Inside there was nothing but silence which was giving the place a sense of creepiness. Even the wind outside was barely a muffled breeze.
'I think I liked it better when it was creaking,' Ianto said. 'Noisy houses are so much nicer than quiet ones where trouble lies in wait for you.'
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Date: 2022-12-11 10:44 am (UTC)