Double Drabble: Centrepiece
Title: Centrepiece
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Jack.
Rating: G
Written For: Challenge 582: Dial at tw100.
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Jack comes home with something that definitely isn’t what he went out to get.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Double drabble.
Ianto rolled his eyes as Jack entered their flat, struggling with his unwieldy burden.
“What on earth have you got there? You only went to the garden centre to get some winter pansies!”
“I know, but on the way there I saw this and I though it would be the perfect centrepiece for the round flower bed. It’s an antique, the real thing, not a modern replica.” Jack set it down at the top of the steps, too tired to carry it any further by himself.
Coming to join his husband Ianto studded the weathered, lichen spotted stone, the tarnished brass dial and gnomon; there was no doubt it was as old as it looked, and he had to admit it had a certain charm. He thought of the circular bed he and Jack had constructed, surrounded by artificial grass. The original idea had been to put a tall plant in the centre, maybe a dwarf conifer, but Jack was right; this would be better.
“What do you think?” Ianto was so silent Jack was staring to worry.
“It’s going to look wonderful. Now, why don’t you go get the pansies? I need to research how to position a sundial.”
The End
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Jack.
Rating: G
Written For: Challenge 582: Dial at tw100.
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Jack comes home with something that definitely isn’t what he went out to get.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Double drabble.
Ianto rolled his eyes as Jack entered their flat, struggling with his unwieldy burden.
“What on earth have you got there? You only went to the garden centre to get some winter pansies!”
“I know, but on the way there I saw this and I though it would be the perfect centrepiece for the round flower bed. It’s an antique, the real thing, not a modern replica.” Jack set it down at the top of the steps, too tired to carry it any further by himself.
Coming to join his husband Ianto studded the weathered, lichen spotted stone, the tarnished brass dial and gnomon; there was no doubt it was as old as it looked, and he had to admit it had a certain charm. He thought of the circular bed he and Jack had constructed, surrounded by artificial grass. The original idea had been to put a tall plant in the centre, maybe a dwarf conifer, but Jack was right; this would be better.
“What do you think?” Ianto was so silent Jack was staring to worry.
“It’s going to look wonderful. Now, why don’t you go get the pansies? I need to research how to position a sundial.”
The End