Ficlet: A Bright Autumn Day
Title: A Bright Autumn Day
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Jack.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Autumn weather in Cardiff is as unpredictable as it is the rest of the year, so you have to make the most of nice days whenever you get them.
Word Count: 522
Written For: slippy’s prompt ‘Any, any, it could feel almost like winter one day and then it's like it's summer the next,’ at fic_promptly.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters. They belong to the BBC.
Autumn in Cardiff was much the same as the rest of the year, which was to say changeable. One day it would be bitterly cold and you’d practically be able to smell snow on the wind, and the next so mild it would almost make you believe that summer hadn’t quite ended yet. Truth be told, all around Britain autumn and spring were often warmer than summer, when it just seemed to rain a lot.
In other countries, people might switch over their wardrobes from winter to summer and back again, changing their clothing choices according to the seasons, but as any sensible person knew, British weather was not that predictable. You were as likely to need a hat, scarf and gloves in June as in the depths of winter, and Ianto had known Februaries warm enough that he could go outside in a t-shirt without being chilly.
Now here it was, early November, and the trees were already fast losing their leaves. The day had dawned sparkling with frost, a sharp chill in the air and everything edged with a fine white trim. That had been when Ianto had left his house at just after six in the morning, but now it was a little past noon, the sun was shining brightly in a crystal clear sky, and the temperature was already well into the sixties. It made being outside a pleasure and Ianto was in no rush to pick up the team’s lunch, strolling leisurely across the Plas with a light breeze tossing dry leaves and bits of rubbish past his feet. Best to make the most of the sunshine while it was there because knowing Welsh weather as he did, it would probably be raining by mid-afternoon, and then who knew how long it would be before he saw the sun again, let alone had the opportunity to bask in its warmth?
He wasn’t the only one relishing the warm temperatures; there were people sitting out on the benches, having lunch in their shirtsleeves, which seemed like an excellent idea. Ianto picked up the pace a bit; maybe he could tempt the team out of their underground lair to eat up here too; they were all looking a bit pale from spending too much time indoors, and it would do them good to get some fresh air during daylight for once.
He pulled out his phone on his way back towards the Plas and pressed speed dial. Jack answered on the second ring.
“Ianto! What’s up? Please tell me they haven’t run out of meatballs.”
“No, you’re safe; I got your meatball sub, but if you want it you’ll have to come up to the Plas.”
“I will, will I?”
“Yep, and you can bring the others with you. We’re dining al fresco today; it’s far too nice out to waste the good weather hidden away underground. A bit of sunshine will do everyone a world of good.”
“In that case we’ll be right up,” Jack promised.
Smiling, Ianto found a vacant bench overlooking Cardiff Bay and settled down to wait for the rest of the team to arrive.
The End
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Jack.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Autumn weather in Cardiff is as unpredictable as it is the rest of the year, so you have to make the most of nice days whenever you get them.
Word Count: 522
Written For: slippy’s prompt ‘Any, any, it could feel almost like winter one day and then it's like it's summer the next,’ at fic_promptly.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters. They belong to the BBC.
Autumn in Cardiff was much the same as the rest of the year, which was to say changeable. One day it would be bitterly cold and you’d practically be able to smell snow on the wind, and the next so mild it would almost make you believe that summer hadn’t quite ended yet. Truth be told, all around Britain autumn and spring were often warmer than summer, when it just seemed to rain a lot.
In other countries, people might switch over their wardrobes from winter to summer and back again, changing their clothing choices according to the seasons, but as any sensible person knew, British weather was not that predictable. You were as likely to need a hat, scarf and gloves in June as in the depths of winter, and Ianto had known Februaries warm enough that he could go outside in a t-shirt without being chilly.
Now here it was, early November, and the trees were already fast losing their leaves. The day had dawned sparkling with frost, a sharp chill in the air and everything edged with a fine white trim. That had been when Ianto had left his house at just after six in the morning, but now it was a little past noon, the sun was shining brightly in a crystal clear sky, and the temperature was already well into the sixties. It made being outside a pleasure and Ianto was in no rush to pick up the team’s lunch, strolling leisurely across the Plas with a light breeze tossing dry leaves and bits of rubbish past his feet. Best to make the most of the sunshine while it was there because knowing Welsh weather as he did, it would probably be raining by mid-afternoon, and then who knew how long it would be before he saw the sun again, let alone had the opportunity to bask in its warmth?
He wasn’t the only one relishing the warm temperatures; there were people sitting out on the benches, having lunch in their shirtsleeves, which seemed like an excellent idea. Ianto picked up the pace a bit; maybe he could tempt the team out of their underground lair to eat up here too; they were all looking a bit pale from spending too much time indoors, and it would do them good to get some fresh air during daylight for once.
He pulled out his phone on his way back towards the Plas and pressed speed dial. Jack answered on the second ring.
“Ianto! What’s up? Please tell me they haven’t run out of meatballs.”
“No, you’re safe; I got your meatball sub, but if you want it you’ll have to come up to the Plas.”
“I will, will I?”
“Yep, and you can bring the others with you. We’re dining al fresco today; it’s far too nice out to waste the good weather hidden away underground. A bit of sunshine will do everyone a world of good.”
“In that case we’ll be right up,” Jack promised.
Smiling, Ianto found a vacant bench overlooking Cardiff Bay and settled down to wait for the rest of the team to arrive.
The End