Ficlet: A Perfect Christmas
Title: A Perfect Christmas
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Jack.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Just once, Ianto would like a Christmas that wasn’t interrupted by work, but that would never happen. Or would it?
Word Count: 950
Written For: The newyearcntdown prompt ‘Peaceful’.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
Just because any alien invasions over Christmas generally took place in London didn’t mean that Torchwood Three had is easy over the festive season. The Rift was active all year round, and although it did have occasional slow spells, there was no way to schedule them to fit in with the team’s plans.
Even on those occasions when the Rift was being unusually well behaved, there was no guarantee that the Weevils wouldn’t act up, or that a lost or damaged spaceship wouldn’t crash somewhere and have to be dealt with. There were always plenty of other things that could go wrong too. Disaster tended to gravitate towards the Welsh capital, which was possibly a side-effect of the Rift’s presence, although no one had ever been able to prove it.
“Wouldn’t it be nice,” Ianto said as he decorated the small and tasteful tree in the tourist office, “if we could have a quiet, peaceful Christmas for once?”
Jack, who was leaning against the counter watching his lover, smiled ruefully. “You do know you’ve probably jinxed any possibility of that happening, right?”
“Jinxed? Since when have you been superstitious?”
“I’m not, I just know the way things work, especially around the Rift and all the alien tech in the archives. Plus, Murphy’s Law, anything that can go wrong probably will, and at the worst possible time, so after what you just said…” Jack trailed off with a shrug.
“So I should’ve said I hope we get run off our feet over Christmas with everything happening at once?” Ianto set a silver star on top of the tree and stepped back to admire it; the red and silver decorations made an appealing contrast to the deep green of the tree. It was artificial, but it looked realistic enough to fool most people.
“No, sorry; doesn’t work that way. Hope for complete chaos and you’d probably get it, because you don’t really want it. Hope for something you DO want, and you’ll never get it.”
“So why did you write a letter to Santa listing all the things you wanted for Christmas?” Ianto teased.
“Because you asked what I’d like, and I know you’re my own personal Santa Claus.” Pushing away from the counter, Jack pulled Ianto into his arms and kissed the tip of his nose.
“Just to be clear, you won’t be getting a pony,” Ianto deadpanned. “We’ve got nowhere to keep one.”
“Aw, shucks.” Jack pouted. “I’ve been asking for one for years, but I guess I’m destined to be forever disappointed.”
“You wouldn’t know what to do with one even if you got it.”
“I’d ride it, and groom it, and feed it apples.”
“A pony would be too small for you; you’d need a horse if you intended to ride it. And no, you’re not getting one of those either.”
“So what am I getting?”
“I’m not telling you; you’ll find out when we open our gifts on Christmas morning. Assuming we’re not too busy dealing with rogue Weevils, crashed spaceships, lost travellers, and the ninety-seventh random object to fall through the Rift.”
“But Christmas Day is still two weeks away!”
Ianto smirked. “Savour the anticipation. Now, don’t you have paperwork to do?”
“I was hoping you’d forgotten about that.”
“Like that’s ever going to happen.”
Grumbling, Jack headed back down to the Hub.
Two weeks later, Christmas morning found Jack and Ianto waking up together in Ianto’s king-sized bed after an almost unheard-of full night’s sleep. The Rift alarm hadn’t gone off once, neither had any of Torchwood’s other alerts, making Jack poke at his VM in consternation, checking that it was working.
Beside him, Ianto stretched. “I can’t remember the last time I had an uninterrupted night’s sleep.” He sat up. “Nadolig Llawen, Jack.”
“Happy Christmas, Ianto.” Jack smiled. “Shall we go and see what Santa bought us?”
“No need to rush, is there?” Ianto pushed the covers back, reminding Jack they were both still naked from the previous night.
“Well, when you put it that way…”
It was another hour before they finally got out of bed, shared a shower, and dressed in jeans and the novelty Christmas sweaters Jack had made the previous year. Ianto’s had Rudolph on the front, with a large red bobble for a nose, while Jack’s had a sparkly Christmas tree, complete with detachable decorations.
Downstairs, they opened the curtains to reveal a world of whiteness.
“It’s snowing!” Jack gasped, excited.
Ianto wasn’t quite so thrilled, thinking about all the problems the snow would cause them, but he pasted on a smile, not wanting to spoil Jack’s happiness. “So it is.”
They had breakfast, got dinner cooking, and opened their presents, all without a peep from Jack’s VM. Ianto allowed Jack to drag him outside, appropriately bundled up against the cold, to build a snowman and have a snowball fight. After that, once they’d got themselves warmed up again, they were even able to enjoy their Christmas dinner without being interrupted, practically eating themselves into a food coma and spending the rest of the afternoon and evening sprawled in front of the TV.
Later, they pulled crackers, played scrabble using the filthiest words they could come up with, ate mince pies hot from the oven, dragged themselves into the kitchen to wash the dishes, then snuggled on the window seat watching fresh snow falling.
“Looks like I didn’t jinx Christmas after all,” Ianto said, leaning against Jack. “Today has been perfect.”
“Almost perfect,” Jack corrected. “I still didn’t get a pony.”
Ianto snorted. “Twpsyn.”
Back at the Hub, the silver star on top of the Christmas tree twinkled, sparkled, glowed from within, and then vanished. Its job was done.
The End
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Jack.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Just once, Ianto would like a Christmas that wasn’t interrupted by work, but that would never happen. Or would it?
Word Count: 950
Written For: The newyearcntdown prompt ‘Peaceful’.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
Just because any alien invasions over Christmas generally took place in London didn’t mean that Torchwood Three had is easy over the festive season. The Rift was active all year round, and although it did have occasional slow spells, there was no way to schedule them to fit in with the team’s plans.
Even on those occasions when the Rift was being unusually well behaved, there was no guarantee that the Weevils wouldn’t act up, or that a lost or damaged spaceship wouldn’t crash somewhere and have to be dealt with. There were always plenty of other things that could go wrong too. Disaster tended to gravitate towards the Welsh capital, which was possibly a side-effect of the Rift’s presence, although no one had ever been able to prove it.
“Wouldn’t it be nice,” Ianto said as he decorated the small and tasteful tree in the tourist office, “if we could have a quiet, peaceful Christmas for once?”
Jack, who was leaning against the counter watching his lover, smiled ruefully. “You do know you’ve probably jinxed any possibility of that happening, right?”
“Jinxed? Since when have you been superstitious?”
“I’m not, I just know the way things work, especially around the Rift and all the alien tech in the archives. Plus, Murphy’s Law, anything that can go wrong probably will, and at the worst possible time, so after what you just said…” Jack trailed off with a shrug.
“So I should’ve said I hope we get run off our feet over Christmas with everything happening at once?” Ianto set a silver star on top of the tree and stepped back to admire it; the red and silver decorations made an appealing contrast to the deep green of the tree. It was artificial, but it looked realistic enough to fool most people.
“No, sorry; doesn’t work that way. Hope for complete chaos and you’d probably get it, because you don’t really want it. Hope for something you DO want, and you’ll never get it.”
“So why did you write a letter to Santa listing all the things you wanted for Christmas?” Ianto teased.
“Because you asked what I’d like, and I know you’re my own personal Santa Claus.” Pushing away from the counter, Jack pulled Ianto into his arms and kissed the tip of his nose.
“Just to be clear, you won’t be getting a pony,” Ianto deadpanned. “We’ve got nowhere to keep one.”
“Aw, shucks.” Jack pouted. “I’ve been asking for one for years, but I guess I’m destined to be forever disappointed.”
“You wouldn’t know what to do with one even if you got it.”
“I’d ride it, and groom it, and feed it apples.”
“A pony would be too small for you; you’d need a horse if you intended to ride it. And no, you’re not getting one of those either.”
“So what am I getting?”
“I’m not telling you; you’ll find out when we open our gifts on Christmas morning. Assuming we’re not too busy dealing with rogue Weevils, crashed spaceships, lost travellers, and the ninety-seventh random object to fall through the Rift.”
“But Christmas Day is still two weeks away!”
Ianto smirked. “Savour the anticipation. Now, don’t you have paperwork to do?”
“I was hoping you’d forgotten about that.”
“Like that’s ever going to happen.”
Grumbling, Jack headed back down to the Hub.
Two weeks later, Christmas morning found Jack and Ianto waking up together in Ianto’s king-sized bed after an almost unheard-of full night’s sleep. The Rift alarm hadn’t gone off once, neither had any of Torchwood’s other alerts, making Jack poke at his VM in consternation, checking that it was working.
Beside him, Ianto stretched. “I can’t remember the last time I had an uninterrupted night’s sleep.” He sat up. “Nadolig Llawen, Jack.”
“Happy Christmas, Ianto.” Jack smiled. “Shall we go and see what Santa bought us?”
“No need to rush, is there?” Ianto pushed the covers back, reminding Jack they were both still naked from the previous night.
“Well, when you put it that way…”
It was another hour before they finally got out of bed, shared a shower, and dressed in jeans and the novelty Christmas sweaters Jack had made the previous year. Ianto’s had Rudolph on the front, with a large red bobble for a nose, while Jack’s had a sparkly Christmas tree, complete with detachable decorations.
Downstairs, they opened the curtains to reveal a world of whiteness.
“It’s snowing!” Jack gasped, excited.
Ianto wasn’t quite so thrilled, thinking about all the problems the snow would cause them, but he pasted on a smile, not wanting to spoil Jack’s happiness. “So it is.”
They had breakfast, got dinner cooking, and opened their presents, all without a peep from Jack’s VM. Ianto allowed Jack to drag him outside, appropriately bundled up against the cold, to build a snowman and have a snowball fight. After that, once they’d got themselves warmed up again, they were even able to enjoy their Christmas dinner without being interrupted, practically eating themselves into a food coma and spending the rest of the afternoon and evening sprawled in front of the TV.
Later, they pulled crackers, played scrabble using the filthiest words they could come up with, ate mince pies hot from the oven, dragged themselves into the kitchen to wash the dishes, then snuggled on the window seat watching fresh snow falling.
“Looks like I didn’t jinx Christmas after all,” Ianto said, leaning against Jack. “Today has been perfect.”
“Almost perfect,” Jack corrected. “I still didn’t get a pony.”
Ianto snorted. “Twpsyn.”
Back at the Hub, the silver star on top of the Christmas tree twinkled, sparkled, glowed from within, and then vanished. Its job was done.
The End