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Entry tags:
Challenge 839 - Holier than thou
Title: Holier than thou
Character: Ianto, Coat
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 200 words
Length: 200 words
Content notes: None
Author notes: Written for Challenge 839 - Hole at ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
torchwood100
torchwood100Summary: Coat has taken a beating but Ianto will be there to mend it. A double drabble.
There was a vexed sigh from Ianto as he sat on the sofa, gently turning Jack’s coat this way and that, until he spotted the worst of the damage, gingerly poking his finger through the hole to inspect it more closely. ‘You really have been in the wars, haven’t you?’
Coat sighed as well, then slumped back in Ianto’s lap. The wars? It had plenty of stories it could tell Ianto about being in the war, and none of them compared to the kind of damage it sustained in the here and now. During the war it had faced air raids and plane crashes, machine gun fire and being shelled in the trenches. Nowadays though it was weevil claws and corrosive alien saliva and laser weapons and explosive devices. Poor Jack might have suffered, but he always came back, perfectly healed. Coat wasn’t always so lucky.
Ianto opened a small sewing kit and unspooled a long piece of grey cotton, threading the needle on the first attempt. ‘Alright, well, nothing we can’t fix with a bit of master tailoring,’ he said, reaching underneath Coat’s wounded spot and lifting it up, readying to make the first stitch.
Thank you, Coat replied.
There was a vexed sigh from Ianto as he sat on the sofa, gently turning Jack’s coat this way and that, until he spotted the worst of the damage, gingerly poking his finger through the hole to inspect it more closely. ‘You really have been in the wars, haven’t you?’
Coat sighed as well, then slumped back in Ianto’s lap. The wars? It had plenty of stories it could tell Ianto about being in the war, and none of them compared to the kind of damage it sustained in the here and now. During the war it had faced air raids and plane crashes, machine gun fire and being shelled in the trenches. Nowadays though it was weevil claws and corrosive alien saliva and laser weapons and explosive devices. Poor Jack might have suffered, but he always came back, perfectly healed. Coat wasn’t always so lucky.
Ianto opened a small sewing kit and unspooled a long piece of grey cotton, threading the needle on the first attempt. ‘Alright, well, nothing we can’t fix with a bit of master tailoring,’ he said, reaching underneath Coat’s wounded spot and lifting it up, readying to make the first stitch.
Thank you, Coat replied.
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