Ficlet: Sweet Relief
Title: Sweet Relief
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Jack.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Like most of the country, Cardiff is in the middle of a heatwave, but relief is at hand.
Word Count: 500
Written For: Prompt 248: Frozen at anythingdrabble.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
“This isn’t a heatwave,” Ianto muttered. “I’ve lived through heatwaves. This is…” He shook his head. “I don’t think there’s a word for what this is.”
“Hot?” Jack suggested.
Ianto gave his lover the kind of look that would have shrivelled the average person where they stood, or in this case, sat. Under present circumstances, however, the effect probably wouldn’t be noticeable. The heat was shrivelling everything.
“Thank you for that completely useless understatement.”
“Hotter than hot? Roasting? Boiling?” Jack tried.
“Closer. I feel like I’m in a sauna with my clothes on.” Ianto mopped his forehead and took a drink of warm water from the bottle in his hand. Much longer and it would be hot enough to make coffee with.
“You sort of are,” Jack pointed out.
Although the windows were closed and the air conditioning going full blast, the interior of the SUV was stifling and airless.
Even Ianto, with his impeccable sense of style and his preference for sartorial elegance, wasn’t foolish enough to wear a three-piece suit on a day like this. He was kitted out in a white sleeveless t-shirt, tan cargo shorts, sneakers, sunglasses, and a thorough coating of sunscreen. Jack had left his trademark coat and blue shirt back at the Hub, leaving him in t-shirt and trousers. He was more accustomed to the heat, having grown up at the edge of a desert; despite the high temperatures Cardiff was currently languishing under, Boeshane had been hotter.
“How much further?”
Ianto checked the onboard computers. “We just passed it. Sorry, I zoned out.”
“It’s fine.” Jack slammed his foot on the brakes and Ianto spilled water down his front. “Oops, sorry.”
“No you’re not. ‘Sides, it’ll dry.”
The SUV reversed. “Say when.”
Checking the computer again, Ianto dutifully said, “When.”
Jack stopped the SUV but left the engine running. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.” He hopped out, shutting the door behind him.
“Why did you bring me if I’m not needed?” Ianto asked the empty car.
The minutes ticked past until Jack returned, sliding into the driver’s seat. “Found it!”
“Found what, exactly?” As Jack dropped something in his lap, Ianto’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh! I know what this is! It’s a Thalaxian kettle!”
“Don’t say the Rift never gives you anything.” Jack made a U-turn, heading back towards the Hub.
“Wonder if it’s in working order…” Ianto muttered, fiddling with the small device. It was a bit mucky, so he dug wipes out of the glove compartment, cleaned it, then wiped it off on the edge of his t-shirt before turning it on. Adjusting the temperature gauge, he thrust the business end into his water bottle. In seconds the contents had frozen solid. “Oops, a bit too cold. Or maybe not.” Turning the ‘kettle’ off again, Ianto rolled the ice-cold bottle against his forehead, then along his arms, relishing the sensation. As the ice gradually melted, he drank the water, quenching his thirst.
Sometimes alien tech could be bloody ingenious!
The End
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Jack.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Like most of the country, Cardiff is in the middle of a heatwave, but relief is at hand.
Word Count: 500
Written For: Prompt 248: Frozen at anythingdrabble.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
“This isn’t a heatwave,” Ianto muttered. “I’ve lived through heatwaves. This is…” He shook his head. “I don’t think there’s a word for what this is.”
“Hot?” Jack suggested.
Ianto gave his lover the kind of look that would have shrivelled the average person where they stood, or in this case, sat. Under present circumstances, however, the effect probably wouldn’t be noticeable. The heat was shrivelling everything.
“Thank you for that completely useless understatement.”
“Hotter than hot? Roasting? Boiling?” Jack tried.
“Closer. I feel like I’m in a sauna with my clothes on.” Ianto mopped his forehead and took a drink of warm water from the bottle in his hand. Much longer and it would be hot enough to make coffee with.
“You sort of are,” Jack pointed out.
Although the windows were closed and the air conditioning going full blast, the interior of the SUV was stifling and airless.
Even Ianto, with his impeccable sense of style and his preference for sartorial elegance, wasn’t foolish enough to wear a three-piece suit on a day like this. He was kitted out in a white sleeveless t-shirt, tan cargo shorts, sneakers, sunglasses, and a thorough coating of sunscreen. Jack had left his trademark coat and blue shirt back at the Hub, leaving him in t-shirt and trousers. He was more accustomed to the heat, having grown up at the edge of a desert; despite the high temperatures Cardiff was currently languishing under, Boeshane had been hotter.
“How much further?”
Ianto checked the onboard computers. “We just passed it. Sorry, I zoned out.”
“It’s fine.” Jack slammed his foot on the brakes and Ianto spilled water down his front. “Oops, sorry.”
“No you’re not. ‘Sides, it’ll dry.”
The SUV reversed. “Say when.”
Checking the computer again, Ianto dutifully said, “When.”
Jack stopped the SUV but left the engine running. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.” He hopped out, shutting the door behind him.
“Why did you bring me if I’m not needed?” Ianto asked the empty car.
The minutes ticked past until Jack returned, sliding into the driver’s seat. “Found it!”
“Found what, exactly?” As Jack dropped something in his lap, Ianto’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh! I know what this is! It’s a Thalaxian kettle!”
“Don’t say the Rift never gives you anything.” Jack made a U-turn, heading back towards the Hub.
“Wonder if it’s in working order…” Ianto muttered, fiddling with the small device. It was a bit mucky, so he dug wipes out of the glove compartment, cleaned it, then wiped it off on the edge of his t-shirt before turning it on. Adjusting the temperature gauge, he thrust the business end into his water bottle. In seconds the contents had frozen solid. “Oops, a bit too cold. Or maybe not.” Turning the ‘kettle’ off again, Ianto rolled the ice-cold bottle against his forehead, then along his arms, relishing the sensation. As the ice gradually melted, he drank the water, quenching his thirst.
Sometimes alien tech could be bloody ingenious!
The End