m_findlow

Title: Baked happiness
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack, Ianto
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 824 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for Prompt - Cinnamon at torchwood_fest
Summary: Jack is brought undone by Ianto's heavenly baking skills.

Jack threw open the front door and sucked in a deep breath. Ah, Ianto's big baking day, he remembered, relishing the delicious scents of flour and vanilla and spice. His mouth was already watering by the time he'd hung up his coat and marched down the hall towards the kitchen.

'The house smells amazing,' Jack announced. 'I wish it smelled like this all year round.'

Ianto grinned, untying the around from around his middle and dropping it on the kitchen counter. 'A nice consequence of baking cinnamon cookies all day long, though it doesn't have quite the same impact when you've been smelling it all day.' Ianto set his hands on his hips and arched backwards. Jack heard the audible pop of his spine as he stretched.

'I'm glad we only get a few days off a year. Today had been more exhausting than anything Torchwood could throw at me. I think I'm going to need a massage to work the tightness out of my back from bending over to open and close the oven door all day. How about you? Good day?'

Jack ran a hand over his face, his good mood vanishing in the blink of an eye at the reminder. 'Really not. Everything that could have gone wrong did.'

Ianto rounded the island bench and set his arms around Jack's middle, sympathising. 'Well, if everything had gone wrong I'm sure we wouldn't be standing here now. You would have called me if things were that bad.'

Jack sighed, leaning into his lover's embrace. 'Well, almost everything, then. I'm tired and starving. I haven't had anything to eat since breakfast.' He gave a glance around the kitchen, noticing it was its usually pristine state. You'd never know anyone had been whipping up a storm in here if it weren't for the smell. 'So, where are all the cookies?'

Ianto's face fell at the question. 'Oh, the foundation already came by this evening and collected them all. I think even they were floored by just how many we had. They said it's going to take all day to put them in little bags to hand out. Maybe I should have bagged them up to save them the trouble, though I don't how I would have managed it all in one day. You only missed them by about twenty minutes. I've just been cleaning up. The kitchen was still a mess when they got here. They must have thought I was mad or something.'

Jack pulled back from Ianto's arms. 'They're all gone? All of them?' Jack made a show of collapsing theatrically on the floor. 'The day from hell, absolutely starving, and I come home to a house full of the scent of cinnamon cookies and you're telling me there's not a single one left? You might as well kill me now!'

Ianto rolled his eyes at the histrionics. He went into the pantry and rifled behind the cans of soup and green beans before extracting a plastic box. 'I was going to get a nice jar and put these one in it for you for Christmas, but I suspect you won't live that long,' Ianto said, opening up the container to reveal two dozen sugary golden cookies. 'I made them in alien and flying saucer shapes just for you. I tried looking everywhere but no one sells a pterodactyl shaped cookie cutter. You can get T-Rex and triceratops and those ones with the long necks...'

'Brachiosaurus,' Jack supplied, unconsciously aware he had that useless piece of information locked away somewhere.

'That's the one,' Ianto said, too tired to remember the name. 'But no pterodactyls. Ridiculous, isn't it?'

Jack grabbed one and was halfway through it before Ianto could even offer a coffee to go with it. 'Oh my God, these are so good!' Jack exclaimed. 'Have I ever told you how much I love you?'

Ianto smirked at him, never looking quite as happy as he did when he knew he'd made Jack happy. 'Yes, but it never hurts to hear it again,' he replied, unable to wipe the grin from his face at the sheer delight Jack got from something as simple as a freshly backed cookie.

'Want one?' Jack asked, holding the container out towards him.

'So generous of you,' Ianto quipped, 'since I was the one baking them all day.'

'Well, you did say these ones were mine,' Jack argued.

'True,' he said, extracting a cookie and nibbling the edge. 'But they won't be around for long at this rate. We'll have eaten a quarter of them before bed.'

'I can think of worse ways to spend an evening after the day I've had,' Jack replied.

'True also,' Ianto said, flipping the kettle on. 'I can always sneak in one last batch before Christmas to replace them.'

'Make it a double batch,' Jack ordered. 'Then I won't resent having to share them with you.'

Ianto chuckled. 'You're all heart.'