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Entry tags:
Drabble_weekly Challenge 413 - Needs work
Title: Needs work
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 300 words
Content notes: None
Author notes: Written for Challenge 413 - Use your imagination at ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
drabble_zone
drabble_zoneSummary: Ianto isn't quite as enthusiastic about Jack's little renovation project as hoped. A triple drabble.
'It's awful,' Ianto said, unflinching in his disparagement. 'And you lived here? Seriously?'
Jack frowned. 'Hey, it was the seventies.'
'I can tell. The mustard, olive and tangerine colour scheme give it away.' It also reeked of dust and mildew and things Ianto didn't like to dwell on. Right now he wouldn't have even offered up this place as short term accommodation for aliens with nowhere else to go. It was simply too embarrassing to think they hadn't suffered enough already.
'So picture it in shades of pale grey and white, all clean lines and nice new furniture,' Jack insisted.
Ianto stared around the crumbling house, squeezed his eyes shut hard and then opened them again. 'Nope.'
'Use your imagination. I know you've got one.'
'I did and all I saw was dirty swingers parties, stale beer and someone ending up murdered in the bathtub.'
Jack rolled his eyes at his lover. 'All we have to do is rip out a few tiles, tear up a bit of carpet and give it a lick of paint.'
'We?'
'Well, not us, obviously. We'll pay someone to come in and do all that.'
'Of course.' This wasn't the hub. They didn't have any secret alien technology or, God forbid, aliens living here. They could bring in anyone they wanted without having to confiscate their phones and retcon them at the end of the day. Repair jobs at the hub were a bloody nightmare, having to remind the tradesmen what they'd done yesterday and what they still had to finish, all on account of them not being able to remember where they got to the day before.
'It'll be great,' Jack assured him. 'You'll see.'
Yes, he would, because the way things were now it would need to be seen to be believed.
'It's awful,' Ianto said, unflinching in his disparagement. 'And you lived here? Seriously?'
Jack frowned. 'Hey, it was the seventies.'
'I can tell. The mustard, olive and tangerine colour scheme give it away.' It also reeked of dust and mildew and things Ianto didn't like to dwell on. Right now he wouldn't have even offered up this place as short term accommodation for aliens with nowhere else to go. It was simply too embarrassing to think they hadn't suffered enough already.
'So picture it in shades of pale grey and white, all clean lines and nice new furniture,' Jack insisted.
Ianto stared around the crumbling house, squeezed his eyes shut hard and then opened them again. 'Nope.'
'Use your imagination. I know you've got one.'
'I did and all I saw was dirty swingers parties, stale beer and someone ending up murdered in the bathtub.'
Jack rolled his eyes at his lover. 'All we have to do is rip out a few tiles, tear up a bit of carpet and give it a lick of paint.'
'We?'
'Well, not us, obviously. We'll pay someone to come in and do all that.'
'Of course.' This wasn't the hub. They didn't have any secret alien technology or, God forbid, aliens living here. They could bring in anyone they wanted without having to confiscate their phones and retcon them at the end of the day. Repair jobs at the hub were a bloody nightmare, having to remind the tradesmen what they'd done yesterday and what they still had to finish, all on account of them not being able to remember where they got to the day before.
'It'll be great,' Jack assured him. 'You'll see.'
Yes, he would, because the way things were now it would need to be seen to be believed.