Fic: The Great Pumpkin
Title: The Great Pumpkin
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Jack, Rhiannon.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Jack thinks he has a brilliant idea for their Halloween costumes. Ianto doesn’t agree. Who will win?
Word Count: 1325
Written For: m_findlow’s prompt ‘Any, any, dressed as a pumpkin,’ at fic_promptly.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters. They belong to the BBC.
“No, Jack, not on your life!” Ianto was used to Jack coming up with weird ideas, and some of them turned out to be fun, but this time he was putting his foot down.
“But Ianto…”
“Don’t you ‘but Ianto’ me, Jack Harkness! I said ‘no’ and I meant it. There’s no way in Hell I’m dressing up as a bloody pumpkin for Rhi’s Halloween party, and that’s final!”
“But why not? I thought it was a great idea! I mean, what’s more fitting for Halloween than a pumpkin? Then I could dress up as a scarecrow and be your protector, frightening all the nasty ghoulies and ghosties and things away from my precious pumpkin!”
Ianto couldn’t quite manage to repress his grin at Jack’s ridiculous idea. “Nice try, but it’s not happening,” he chuckled. “I’d never hear the end of it from Johnny. I’ll just go as a vampire, like I’d planned; all I need for that is my tux, some hair gel, and a cape.”
“You’re such a spoilsport, and your idea for a costume is lame. Half the guests are gonna be dressed as vampires; there’s nothing original about that!”
“Maybe not, but it’s a classic, and at least I won’t wind up being a laughingstock.”
Jack shook his head. “You spend far too much time worrying about what other people think. Halloween is a time for dressing up and having fun!”
“And exactly how much fun could a fat, round, orange pumpkin have?” Ianto shot back. “I wouldn’t be able to dance with you, or sit down, or anything!”
“Not so; you wouldn’t be hard and solid, you’d be… squishy.”
“Squishy?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t even want to know.” Ianto left Jack’s office to go and make coffee. As far as he was concerned the matter was settled.
A few days later, Jack was pacing impatiently outside Ianto’s bedroom. “Aren’t you ready yet? I’m usually the one holding us up.”
“I’m not coming out. I look ridiculous! You’ll have to go on your own.”
Opening the door without asking, Jack marched in. “For the last time, Ianto, you do not look ridiculous, you look adorable. Your leaves are crooked. Here, let me just…” Jack tweaked the leaves sticking out around Ianto’s neck, and Ianto glared out at him from the pumpkin stalk that surrounded his head.
“I still don’t know how you talked me into this,” he grumbled.
“Don’t be a sourpuss. Lighten up, we’re going to a party!”
“That’s what you think! I’m not even sure I’ll fit through the bedroom door, and as for getting in the car…”
“Will you stop worrying? It’ll be fine. Now come on; you don’t want to make us late. You know how cranky Rhiannon gets.”
“Fine, but if I get laughed at, I will kill you, and then when you revive I’ll kill you again!”
“No you won’t. Come along, my little pumpkin!” Taking Ianto by the elbow, Jack steered him towards the door.
Ianto made one final attempt. “Orange doesn’t even suit me!”
“Of course it does, you’re a pumpkin, and you look good enough to eat!”
“Ha ha, very droll.”
To Ianto’s surprise, he did fit through the bedroom door, just; the pumpkin costume wasn’t as big as he’d expected and was quite flexible. He was wearing black jeans underneath it, along with a long-sleeved sweatshirt Jack had dyed orange so his arms, sticking out of holes cut into his pumpkin sides, matched his body.
Jack was dressed in tattered dungarees and an old shirt, with a battered, oversized jacket over the top, and a crumpled hat on his head. Straw, which in reality was lengths of pale brown wool carefully stitched in place since Ianto had vetoed using the real thing, stuck out of his sleeves and trouser legs, and made a kind of wig beneath his hat. A blue bandana was tied around his neck. He was the smiliest scarecrow Ianto had ever seen, which made up a little for Ianto’s own less than cheery expression. All he felt like doing was scowling at the man who’d persuaded him to wear this ridiculous outfit.
Getting into the car was a bit tricky, he had to sort of reverse onto the seat and then swivel to get his legs in, but Jack had done a good job with the pumpkin; it was indeed squishy, and not uncomfortable to sit in, although it tended to bulge up around his chin. Wearing a seatbelt was impossible though.
“You’d better drive carefully, because if you have to brake suddenly…”
“Your costume would protect you,” Jack assured his lover. “It’s like wearing an airbag. But I will be careful, I promise; as your scarecrow, protecting you is my only responsibility and I take that task very seriously.” He started the engine, and away they went, with Ianto still wishing he’d stuck to his guns and gone the vampire route.
Galling though it was, when they reached Rhi’s house Ianto had to admit that his lover had been right. There were lots of witches and zombies at the party, some demons, a couple of ghosts, a mangy werewolf, a creepy clown, and an overabundance of vampires, at least eight of them, one of whom was Johnny Davies. While Ianto knew he would have made a far more suave and sophisticated vampire than his brother-in-law did, perhaps it was better that he wasn’t wearing a similar costume. It didn’t really make him feel all that much better about being round and orange, but at least no one else there was dressed like him.
“Ianto, Jack, about time! I thought you’d never get here!” Rhi came bustling to greet them, a fine figure of a witch. “Look at you two! Your costumes are amazing! Wherever did you get them?”
“Jack made them,” Ianto admitted. “This was all his idea. I was coerced.”
“Ianto didn’t want to be a pumpkin, but I talked him into it,” Jack said with his trademark grin. “After all what’s a scarecrow without a pumpkin to protect?”
“Well, there’s no way my brother can sneak out of the party without anyone noticing this time, that’s for sure!” Rhi giggled. “Right, let’s get you two a drink. The bar’s in the kitchen and the buffet table’s over there.” She pointed towards the far end of the room, then paused, looking at Ianto. “Why don’t you help yourselves to food and I’ll bring you your drinks. The kitchen’s a bit cramped with everyone in and out, probably isn’t room for a pumpkin. Beer okay for you? Johnny got half a dozen cases of Brains.”
“An appropriate choice for Halloween,” Jack said with a grin.
“That’s more or less what Johnny said.”
Ianto forced a smile. “Beer will be fine. Thanks, Rhi.”
As Rhiannon bustled away, Jack turned his grin on Ianto.
“What did I tell you, Pumpkin? You’re a hit!”
“Will you stop calling me that?”
“Never. You are, and will always be, my precious Pumpkin, and don’t you forget it!”
“I have a feeling no one’s ever going to let me,” Ianto muttered as he trailed behind Jack towards the buffet table.
“Would you stop being the Great Pumpkin of Doom? This is a party; you’re supposed to be having fun!”
Ianto just sighed. Maybe he should go tell Rhiannon to forget the beer; what he really wanted was something stronger. A stiff drink, or possibly several, might serve to make his situation more bearable, except that it was difficult enough for him to manoeuvre in his costume while sober. Drunk, he’d be like an out-of-control bowling ball, which would probably not be good. It looked like he’d just have to make the best of things, forget what he looked like, and try to enter into the spirit of things. But next year, no matter what Jack said or what tempting inducements he offered, Ianto was determined he’d be the one to pick their costumes!
The End
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Jack, Rhiannon.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Jack thinks he has a brilliant idea for their Halloween costumes. Ianto doesn’t agree. Who will win?
Word Count: 1325
Written For: m_findlow’s prompt ‘Any, any, dressed as a pumpkin,’ at fic_promptly.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters. They belong to the BBC.
“No, Jack, not on your life!” Ianto was used to Jack coming up with weird ideas, and some of them turned out to be fun, but this time he was putting his foot down.
“But Ianto…”
“Don’t you ‘but Ianto’ me, Jack Harkness! I said ‘no’ and I meant it. There’s no way in Hell I’m dressing up as a bloody pumpkin for Rhi’s Halloween party, and that’s final!”
“But why not? I thought it was a great idea! I mean, what’s more fitting for Halloween than a pumpkin? Then I could dress up as a scarecrow and be your protector, frightening all the nasty ghoulies and ghosties and things away from my precious pumpkin!”
Ianto couldn’t quite manage to repress his grin at Jack’s ridiculous idea. “Nice try, but it’s not happening,” he chuckled. “I’d never hear the end of it from Johnny. I’ll just go as a vampire, like I’d planned; all I need for that is my tux, some hair gel, and a cape.”
“You’re such a spoilsport, and your idea for a costume is lame. Half the guests are gonna be dressed as vampires; there’s nothing original about that!”
“Maybe not, but it’s a classic, and at least I won’t wind up being a laughingstock.”
Jack shook his head. “You spend far too much time worrying about what other people think. Halloween is a time for dressing up and having fun!”
“And exactly how much fun could a fat, round, orange pumpkin have?” Ianto shot back. “I wouldn’t be able to dance with you, or sit down, or anything!”
“Not so; you wouldn’t be hard and solid, you’d be… squishy.”
“Squishy?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t even want to know.” Ianto left Jack’s office to go and make coffee. As far as he was concerned the matter was settled.
A few days later, Jack was pacing impatiently outside Ianto’s bedroom. “Aren’t you ready yet? I’m usually the one holding us up.”
“I’m not coming out. I look ridiculous! You’ll have to go on your own.”
Opening the door without asking, Jack marched in. “For the last time, Ianto, you do not look ridiculous, you look adorable. Your leaves are crooked. Here, let me just…” Jack tweaked the leaves sticking out around Ianto’s neck, and Ianto glared out at him from the pumpkin stalk that surrounded his head.
“I still don’t know how you talked me into this,” he grumbled.
“Don’t be a sourpuss. Lighten up, we’re going to a party!”
“That’s what you think! I’m not even sure I’ll fit through the bedroom door, and as for getting in the car…”
“Will you stop worrying? It’ll be fine. Now come on; you don’t want to make us late. You know how cranky Rhiannon gets.”
“Fine, but if I get laughed at, I will kill you, and then when you revive I’ll kill you again!”
“No you won’t. Come along, my little pumpkin!” Taking Ianto by the elbow, Jack steered him towards the door.
Ianto made one final attempt. “Orange doesn’t even suit me!”
“Of course it does, you’re a pumpkin, and you look good enough to eat!”
“Ha ha, very droll.”
To Ianto’s surprise, he did fit through the bedroom door, just; the pumpkin costume wasn’t as big as he’d expected and was quite flexible. He was wearing black jeans underneath it, along with a long-sleeved sweatshirt Jack had dyed orange so his arms, sticking out of holes cut into his pumpkin sides, matched his body.
Jack was dressed in tattered dungarees and an old shirt, with a battered, oversized jacket over the top, and a crumpled hat on his head. Straw, which in reality was lengths of pale brown wool carefully stitched in place since Ianto had vetoed using the real thing, stuck out of his sleeves and trouser legs, and made a kind of wig beneath his hat. A blue bandana was tied around his neck. He was the smiliest scarecrow Ianto had ever seen, which made up a little for Ianto’s own less than cheery expression. All he felt like doing was scowling at the man who’d persuaded him to wear this ridiculous outfit.
Getting into the car was a bit tricky, he had to sort of reverse onto the seat and then swivel to get his legs in, but Jack had done a good job with the pumpkin; it was indeed squishy, and not uncomfortable to sit in, although it tended to bulge up around his chin. Wearing a seatbelt was impossible though.
“You’d better drive carefully, because if you have to brake suddenly…”
“Your costume would protect you,” Jack assured his lover. “It’s like wearing an airbag. But I will be careful, I promise; as your scarecrow, protecting you is my only responsibility and I take that task very seriously.” He started the engine, and away they went, with Ianto still wishing he’d stuck to his guns and gone the vampire route.
Galling though it was, when they reached Rhi’s house Ianto had to admit that his lover had been right. There were lots of witches and zombies at the party, some demons, a couple of ghosts, a mangy werewolf, a creepy clown, and an overabundance of vampires, at least eight of them, one of whom was Johnny Davies. While Ianto knew he would have made a far more suave and sophisticated vampire than his brother-in-law did, perhaps it was better that he wasn’t wearing a similar costume. It didn’t really make him feel all that much better about being round and orange, but at least no one else there was dressed like him.
“Ianto, Jack, about time! I thought you’d never get here!” Rhi came bustling to greet them, a fine figure of a witch. “Look at you two! Your costumes are amazing! Wherever did you get them?”
“Jack made them,” Ianto admitted. “This was all his idea. I was coerced.”
“Ianto didn’t want to be a pumpkin, but I talked him into it,” Jack said with his trademark grin. “After all what’s a scarecrow without a pumpkin to protect?”
“Well, there’s no way my brother can sneak out of the party without anyone noticing this time, that’s for sure!” Rhi giggled. “Right, let’s get you two a drink. The bar’s in the kitchen and the buffet table’s over there.” She pointed towards the far end of the room, then paused, looking at Ianto. “Why don’t you help yourselves to food and I’ll bring you your drinks. The kitchen’s a bit cramped with everyone in and out, probably isn’t room for a pumpkin. Beer okay for you? Johnny got half a dozen cases of Brains.”
“An appropriate choice for Halloween,” Jack said with a grin.
“That’s more or less what Johnny said.”
Ianto forced a smile. “Beer will be fine. Thanks, Rhi.”
As Rhiannon bustled away, Jack turned his grin on Ianto.
“What did I tell you, Pumpkin? You’re a hit!”
“Will you stop calling me that?”
“Never. You are, and will always be, my precious Pumpkin, and don’t you forget it!”
“I have a feeling no one’s ever going to let me,” Ianto muttered as he trailed behind Jack towards the buffet table.
“Would you stop being the Great Pumpkin of Doom? This is a party; you’re supposed to be having fun!”
Ianto just sighed. Maybe he should go tell Rhiannon to forget the beer; what he really wanted was something stronger. A stiff drink, or possibly several, might serve to make his situation more bearable, except that it was difficult enough for him to manoeuvre in his costume while sober. Drunk, he’d be like an out-of-control bowling ball, which would probably not be good. It looked like he’d just have to make the best of things, forget what he looked like, and try to enter into the spirit of things. But next year, no matter what Jack said or what tempting inducements he offered, Ianto was determined he’d be the one to pick their costumes!
The End