m_findlow

Title: Cold as ice
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack, Owen
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 300 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for Advent Calendar Day 5 - Nothing burns like the cold - George R.R. Martin at fffc
Summary: Owen is forced to patch up Jack's hands in the wake of his own stupidity.

'You're a moron, you know that, don't you?' Owen asked, suppressing an eye roll as Jack winced at the sensation of the water running over his hands. 'Grow up. It's hardly even lukewarm.'

'It burns,' Jack complained, studying his hands which were at this point far redder than they had been twenty minutes ago. Before that they'd been almost as white as snow.

'Yeah, well, that's what you get for mucking around in the snow,' Owen replied, pulling them back out of the water basin for a moment to let them acclimatise. 'Haven't you learnt after all these years that exposure to extreme cold is not good for you?' Owen was certain Jack must have frozen to death at some point in his ridiculous life.

'I grew up on a planet that was all desert and beaches. We didn't have cold weather, let alone snow.'

'And a hundred years living in Cardiff doesn't count for anything,' Owen surmised.

'I couldn't help it,' Jack insisted. 'And Cardiff doesn't get snow all that often. You have to enjoy it and make the most of it.'

'And by making the most of it you of course mean building a snowman next to the water tower and following up that up with a snowball fight.' There were still flecks of snow stuck in Jack's hair which were only melting just now that he was in the relative warmth of the hub.

'In my defense, Ianto started the fight,' Jack protested. 'And he had mittens on.'

'Which at least makes him smarter than you,' Owen replied

'If we'd stopped at just the snowman, it would have been fine.'

Owen snorted. 'Considering what you put us through every day, if I had the chance to lob a ball of ice at your head, I would too.'