Torchwood: Fanfic: Overgrown

[m_findlow]

Title: Overgrown
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Ianto, Jack
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 1,092 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for badly_knitted's prompt "Any, any, the garden was more weeds than plants" at fic_promptly
Summary: Ianto has a big job ahead of him.

Ianto sighed at the view that confronted him. He'd known it was bad, but somehow it looked even worse now than when he last remembered seeing it.

The previous owners of his new house had clearly not been avid gardeners, or gardeners at all. The entire backyard was overgrown, more of a jungle than a garden, really. But since he'd taken possession of the place, all the late nights and long days had added up, resulting in it becoming even more sad and neglected than when it first started.

Oh boy, he thought, pushing open the back door and stepping out. It was really more weeds than plants out here, assuming he could find any plants for the mountain of weeds that had taken over. Somewhere right down at the back of the property was a sad little potting shed, though he could only just make out the top two feet of the structure from his perch of safety on the top step that lead down into his own Peruvian jungle.

This really was a bigger job than he'd anticipated. The small bucket and hand tool he held really weren't up to the job. When had he ever thought he'd be able to fight his way through this armed with what amounted to children's toys?

He sighed. One day off. That's all you've got. No way are you going to sort this out in one day. You'll be lucky to reclaim the first yard of patio.

Yes, there was a patio under here somewhere. It had been on the photos he'd seen when he first spied the house online. They must have been taken a long time ago, or doctored by the estate agent to remove the vegetation. He stepped down the three steps and perched himself on the lowest one, setting down the bucket and trowel. Why hadn't he conned Jack into helping him? He lived here just as much as Ianto did. Well, there'd be plenty left to do, that much was assured. Their next weekend off was going to be booked out as a working bee.

He picked up the trowel and began chipping away at the weeds that were sprouting out of the pavers, making sure to dig deep enough to get them roots and all, before dropping them into the bucket. It was full within ten minutes of effort. Where to put it now? He didn't have a compost bin yet. Perhaps there was one buried out there somewhere. For now he'd have to live with putting it out with the rest of their garbage, grabbing the black bin liners from the kitchen drawer and dumping out the contents into one.

By lunchtime he was on hands and knees, having cleared a solid yard across the patio, the knees of his jeans filthy from crawling around, and two big black bags full of weeds now tied up by the back door, with a third half full already.

After a brief break and lunch, he attempted to find the back of the yard, checking what might have been left in the potting shed that could be of any use. In the process he startled a fox who'd taken up residence between two very scrubby looking plants. He couldn't tell which of them was more startled by the sudden intrusion, though the fox very quickly made its escape, sneaking through the tall grasses and out through a very narrow gap in bottom of the back fence. By the time Ianto eventually cleared the yard, there'd be no room for foxes. There'd be neat garden beds with tiny box hedges lining them, and plants that flowered but didn't require a lot of care. There'd also be a vegie patch where he could have beans and carrots, cabbages and a lemon tree. Let it not be said by Jack anymore that he didn't eat his vegetables. He'd have his own personal supply. Add to that some nice furniture for the patio for those rare sunny days so they could sit out and enjoy the sunshine and it would finally be a proper little garden.

Once he finally reached the potting shed, he found it padlocked and chained. He returned to the house and retrieved his lock picking kit, knowing it would be quicker than trying the handful of random keys he still hadn't found a use for that the solicitors had handed him when he finalised the papers. They surely opened something, though what he wasn't sure.

Inside the shed he found a rake, shovel, broom and an old hand push mower. Clearly the previous owners didn't want them, or perhaps had inherited them from the owners before them. They were a little rusty and worse for wear, but probably just needed some oil and a good scrub. They'd certainly come in handy later on, once he managed to take back the patio from the clutches of his overgrown verge. He left the implements where they were, excepting the broom, which he grabbed and took it back with him, helping to clear up the bundles of weeds he'd dug out of the paving, now scattered all around.

By six o'clock, he surprised himself with just how much patio there actually was. There was even space for a few potted herbs along one side, once he pictured where he wanted the furniture to go.

When Jack arrived home at six thirty, he bemoaned the fact that Ianto hadn't cooked dinner yet. He'd been starving, having scoffed the last of the biscuits several hours ago, and having forgotten where Ianto kept the backup supplies.

'I've been busy clearing the garden,' Ianto replied.

Jack poked his head out the back door and saw the small patch of paving that now greeted him. 'Didn't get through very much,' he said. 'And you still didn't have time for tea?'

Ianto gave him a look that could've killed. 'You want to sleep on the sofa tonight? You have no idea how long it took to clear that many weeds. It's a wonder I made it out of there alive before they claimed me as an easy source of food.'

Jack took heed of the warning stare and the implications if he continued down this path. 'I was just going to say I think we should go out for dinner tonight.'

'I think that is a very fine idea, Jack.'

Phew, Jack thought. He'd very newly ended up in the doghouse, and judging from the state of their yard, he wasn't even sure they had one out there for him.

Comments

[bk_forever]

Ianto is being a bit optimistic if he thinks he'll grow a lemon tree in Cardiff without a heated and insulated glasshouse, he might do better with plums, lol!

We used to have a hand mower like that. I remember dad using it to cut the grass. Oh the good old days!

Jack had better volunteer to help with the clearing the garden if he really wants to get back on Ianto's good side and stay there.