m_findlow

Title: Home is where the heart is
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack, Ianto
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 2,792 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for Challenge 75 - Temporary at beattheblackdog
Summary: Wild weather forces the boys into temporary accommodations.

The loud crashing sound startled them both awake, though how they could tell over the sound of the howling wind and driving rain was anyone's guess.

It had been a wild autumn, full of blustery winds and torrential rain, and tonight had been no exception. After pouring down all day, the rain had finally let up a little bit, only to be replaced with gale force winds that tore up and down the city streets.

They both jumped out of bed to find out what had happened, only to feel a breeze rushing down the hall against them. In the spare room, next to their own bedroom, the sound became immediately apparent, looking on in horror as half the room was collapsed in on itself. There was also a new addition, being the top of the large tree that had once stood tall and proud at the front of their house. There were no words to describe their shock, nor thoughts that if the wind had blown a little more to the right, that the tree would have come crashing through their own bedroom whilst they were still in it.

Ianto handed out the last mug to a very appreciative man in bright yellow coveralls, and stood there, surveying their work. Emergency services had been called out within half an hour of the incident and had worked throughout the night, first to winch the tree away from the house, then to begin the task of stitching tarpaulins across the enormous hole it had left in its wake. The whole time, it hadn't stopped raining or blowing, impeding their efforts.

Only in the first light of morning could he really appreciate the damage. The tree was now lying flat across the ground, waiting to the chopped up and taken away. The entire root system had been torn from the ground. Around the base of it, the ground was boggy, having soaked up two weeks worth of rain, loosening its grip around the mighty arbor. The wind had done the rest.

It wasn't just the spare room either. When the tree had come crashing sideways, it had taken out part of the lower floor as well, mangling their living room, crushing in the brick facade like someone crushing a soda can. Now the whole thing was covering in patches of bright blue sheeting, being tethered down tight by exhausted men, knowing that more wild weather was on its way.

Jack sidled up behind him, placing hands on his shoulders.

'Our beautiful house,' Ianto said, feeling despair.

'It'll be okay,' Jack said, though thinking the same thing.

One of the emergency workers approached them as the drizzle began to fall again.

'Done as much as we can,' he reported. 'Structurally the house is sound, but you're not going to be able to live there until it's fixed. Probably going to take a few weeks. Lot of tradesmen fully booked up given all the storm damage we've had. Should be enough to keep the water out though. You got some place you can stay?'

Jack nodded absently as men began walking back to their trucks, leaving their house with a long blue gash running up and down its front. He could feel how upset Ianto was beneath his hands.

'Thank you,' he said.

Once the last person had left, they headed back inside to get a better look and start cleaning up some of the mess. Everything was moved away from the damaged areas, and the water and debris tidied and mopped up.

'Guess we should start packing,' Ianto sighed. They could come back for stuff, but they'd be living out of suitcases for the most part. 'You pack some clothes and toiletries, I'll grab the rest.'

Ironically, it didn't take long before they had the boot full of basic items. Jack had packed their clothes, whilst Ianto had grabbed towels and sheets, and a box of food from their pantry. Valuables went in a second smaller box, but both were surprised at how little was in the box, mostly items that no would be burglar would have bothered with anyway. Appliances could be replaced, as could books or DVDs, even clothes. All that went into the box were photos and mementos, trinkets and trivial things that only held value to their owners.

Locking the front door, he let out another wistful sigh as Jack grabbed the last box in his arms. 'I'll start calling around for contractors this afternoon,' he said.

Fortunately it had been a quiet day. It seemed the weather had put the rift out of action, deciding to hole up until the weather was better for causing chaos. By the time they were ready to call it a day, Ianto had several people lined up to inspect the damage and provide quotes.

'We done for the day?' Jack asked.

'I think so,' Ianto said, feeling tired from having been up since 2am. 'You can drive,' he said, yawning wide.

'Drive?' Jack said. 'Where are we going?'

'Home, of course. Well, I mean, not home, just... home.'

Jack hated it how Ianto never made any sense when he was this tired. 'I thought we were staying here?' Jack had assumed that was why they'd packed up their stuff. They hadn't had time to unload it from the car, back into Jack's old bunker.

'We can't stay here,' Ianto replied.

'Why not? We lived here for years.'

'I wouldn't call it living,' Ianto said. 'We need somewhere that's not here.'

Jack frowned. 'What's wrong with here?'

'Jack, we need a wall between work and home. I've gotten used to being able to set this all aside for a few hours so that we can have somewhere that's just us.'

Jack folded his arms. 'So, what do you have in mind?'

Jack pulled up out the front of the narrow terrace and peered through the SUV's window.

'I don't remember this one,' he said referring to the long list of houses on Torchwood's books as safehouses and places that could be used to settle aliens who couldn't return home.

'It's been out of commission for a while now,' Ianto replied. 'I've been meaning to organise for it to be completely renovated.'

'So, it's no good for aliens but it's okay for us?'

Ianto pushed open the door. 'It's just temporary, okay?'

Temporary wasn't the word that came to mind when Jack stuck his head in through the door, coming face to face with the narrow staircase and the dingy living room off to the side.

'It's a dump,' he declared.

Ianto rolled his eyes. 'It's outdated is all. No one's done anything with it since it was built in the seventies. I thought you'd feel right at home. It's old and needs bringing into the modern age, just like you.'

He flipped on a light switch, and a small bulb flickered overhead in a fitting that was so covered with grime that it could barely let the light escape.

'Love what you've done with the place,' Jack teased.

'Come on,' Ianto said, indicating the stairs.

Jack became less and less impressed with the place the more he looked around. He remembered houses just like this one, all garish yellows and greens, tangerine and brown. They were the colours of the seventies and unlike many things from that era, they weren't looking like making a fashionable comeback any time soon. The curtains were ugly and patterned, the linoleum floors scuffed and browning, carpets worn, false timber fascias peeling at the edges, and the whole place smelled old. He'd never given all that much thought to their own house, but it was a palace by comparison. It was bright in tones of white and pale grey, with lots of natural light, and it was spacious and airy and warm. This place was cramped and dark and cold.

'You could've picked a better house,' he complained.

'This was the only one not in use,' Ianto replied, hanging up clothes in the narrow closet.

'So, why didn't we just but a new one?'

'Jack, we're not buying a whole other house. This is just temporary for a few weeks. Besides, you wouldn't get settlement on any property in less than thirty days, assuming you found something that you liked that you wouldn't mind donating back to Torchwood.'

'Hmph,' Jack muttered. 'I still say we should've stayed at the hub.'

'Well, we're here now. The weather outside isn't getting any better and I don't fancy going back out there.' As if to emphasise the point, he began changing into his pajamas.

Jack stared disdainfully down at the bed. Even it looked unappealing.

He wasn't far wrong. It had a noticeable slump in the middle which sent them both rolling towards it, not something Jack would have normally minded. It was lumpy though and too soft, like all the springs had worn out. Not like their nice firm bed back home.

'It's manky,' Jack moaned, shuffling uncomfortably. 'It could be infested with weevils or something.'

'The sheets and blankets are clean and the pillows are ours,' Ianto muttered, pulling them up around his ears and turning away from Jack. 'And unless the weevils are at least seven foot tall I wouldn't worry about it.'

Jack found it strange that his lover could be so flippant. Ianto was usually the first to fuss over cleanliness and germs. Perhaps he was right and Jack had nothing to worry about, or perhaps he was just too tired to care.

'Night, cariad,' Ianto mumbled into the pillow, already halfway asleep as Jack's arms snuck around him.

'Night, Ianto.'

Ianto was already asleep as Jack lay there, listening to the loose slate tiles rattle on the roof in the wind, the overgrown tree by the side of the house scritch scratching its naked branches against the window, and the house's general creaking and groaning, shifting like and old man. Everything about the place kept him from sleep.

It's just for a few weeks, he told himself.

He couldn't remember finally falling asleep but before he knew it, it was morning already, hearing Ianto's watch softly beeping out its alarm. Outside he could hear the rain still pouring down and hoped that their own home wasn't being slowly flooded. Perhaps he'd swing by on the way to work and check on it.

Whilst Ianto was pulling out clothes for the day, giving them a quick press after their haphazard packing by Jack, Jack stepped into the bathroom looking forward to a hot shower. There was nothing like a hot shower to ease out the tension of a rough night's sleep.

The bathroom was even narrower than the rest of the rooms; one long space about five feet wide and no more. The toilet was tucked right at the end, practically behind the shower stall that took up most of the room's width. It too was small; certainly not big enough for both of them to shower together, Jack thought glumly. And it had one of those awful shower curtains that clung to you like a magnet.

He turned the taps and held his arm out, testing the temperature of the water which barely trickled through the small showerhead. He tweaked the taps, more hot, less cold, but still it ran ice cold no matter how he tried. Great.

'Ianto, there's no hot water,' he complained, stepping back into the bedroom, feeling cold standing there in no clothes and moving over to hover in front of the radiator.

'Did you remember to check the pilot light was on before you went to bed last night? It's a gas hot water service.'

No, of course hadn't. It hadn't even occurred to him that it wouldn't be lit. Thinking back now it made sense, though. With the house unoccupied, it was for safety that it should be switched off.

Jack groaned out a sigh. 'I'll go turn it on now.'

'Clothes, Jack,' Ianto said, thrusting his dressing gown at him. 'No sense giving the neighbours a show this early in the morning. You never know who might be living next door.'

'Right,' Ianto said, once Jack had returned, hopping from one foot to the other and hugging himself from the cold outside, having trundled around to the side of the house barefoot. 'That's going to take at least an hour to heat the water tank. Suppose we should have breakfast while we wait.'

Even breakfast was a sad affair by Jack's standards. On a morning where they weren't in a rush, he would have looked forward to tucking into scrambled eggs and crispy bacon, all smothered in tomato sauce, or maybe pancakes with maple syrup. Instead there was only cereal and long-life milk, being included in the few provisions Ianto had boxed up to take with them. There were jars of jam and honey and peanut butter in there as well, but no bread for making toast. That assumed the toaster worked, he added as an afterthought. Even the bag of coffee was abandoned in favour of teabags, at least until they could make another trip back to bring over the coffee machine.

'It's just temporary,' Ianto said, watching Jack pulling faces at the mug of tea. 'Now that the fridge has been on all night, I can go buy some proper groceries.'

Jack scowled at the mug again. Even the crockery was ugly, and that was to say nothing of the hard plastic chair underneath him, or the scratched laminate table that was meant to be a dining table.

The days and weeks wore on, most of their time was spent keeping busy at the hub, and there were a few nights where neither of them even made it home at all. Still despite that, having to come home, and he used the term loosely, to this place filled Jack with dread. He hated it. Everything was run down, old, not working properly or just plain ugly. He missed their comfy couch and their television, shower and its nice hot jets of water, their soft carpets and sweeping staircase, and the neat gardens adorning both the front and back of their house, and their spacious kitchen. Everything here felt dirty, even if it wasn't. How was Ianto not going mad on the inside?

To make matters worse, fixing their house was taking longer than expected. The brickwork and supports were more badly damaged than first thought, which meant delays in getting plasterboard put in, new roof tiles sorted, windows replaced, walls repainted and electrical work done. The list of things not yet done seemed to be getting longer rather then shorter. Even if it was still only half done, Jack was ready to move in just as soon as someone told him the outside was fixed and their kitchen had running power again. The rest he could live without just so long as he could be back under his own roof.

'They think it's another three weeks away, at least,' Ianto reported once he was off the phone with the project manager. He leant back against the sagging couch cushion whilst the tiny television flickered in the corner of the room, Jack's eyes glued to it despite hating the programme that was playing. There was no DVD player, and no subscription TV, just whatever free to air channels could offer, which wasn't much.

'Three weeks?' Jack exclaimed, tearing his eyes away from the television.

'It could be worse,' Ianto replied. He missed home too, but despite being old and in need of some fresh paint and furniture, the place they were staying was okay. It was clean, despite Jack's protestations, and it was a roof over their heads. They didn't have to love it because they didn't have to live there forever. He couldn't understand why Jack was so put out.

'Worse? Ianto, it's horrible. I'd rather be camped out on Owen and Tosh's couch than spend one more night in this dump. Wouldn't you?'

'I love Owen and Tosh,' Ianto replied. 'I'd never subject them to you twenty four hours a day. Certainly not for more than one night.'

Jack sighed loudly. 'What am I missing, Ianto? Why are you so okay with this? I thought you'd hate a place like this and be spending every last minute sugar soaping the walls and vacuuming what's left of the carpet.'

He leaned forward and kissed Jack. 'You're here,' Ianto said. 'So long as I've got you, the rest really doesn't matter all that much.'

'I suppose,' Jack sighed letting his arms rest comfortably around Ianto's waist.

'Besides it's only-'

Jack's snatched Ianto's lips in a kiss. If he heard the word temporary again he might just lose it.