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slashthedrabble Mar. 19th, 2018 05:41 pm)
bk_forever posting in slashthedrabble Mar. 19th, 2018 05:41 pm)Title: Going Green
Fandom: Torchwood
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Jack
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Jack is intent on celebrating St. Patrick’s Day like any good Irishman…
Word Count: 500
Written For: Prompt 480: Shamrock.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters. They belong to the BBC.
A/N: A slightly longer version of this ficlet can be found on my journal.
Entering Jack’s office with coffee, Ianto stopped dead in his tracks. “Jack, what’ve you done to your hair?”
Jack beamed happily. “You noticed!”
“It would be difficult not to.” Ianto approached Jack’s desk.
“D’you like it?”
“It’s green.”
“Yep!”
“Why?”
“For St. Patrick’s Day, of course.”
“You’re not Irish.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“St. Patrick is Ireland’s patron saint,” Ianto explained patiently.
“I know that, I’m not stupid.”
“You’re in Wales, not Ireland, and weren’t you recently insisting you’ve been here long enough to be a Welsh citizen?”
“Well I have!”
“But now you’re celebrating an Irish national holiday?”
Jack pouted. “I like St Patrick’s Day, I wanted to join in the festivities.”
“You couldn’t just pin a shamrock to your lapel?”
“Oh, I’ve got one of those as well, and I got one for you too, so we could match!”
“I’m Welsh!”
“Don’t you want to show support for your neighbours across the sea?”
“Fine, just don’t expect me to dye my hair.”
“I knew you wouldn’t go for that so I got you this.” Jack slid a box across the desk towards Ianto, the kind a tie would come in. Ianto almost groaned with despair. If Jack had got him some tasteless tie covered in leprechauns and shamrocks… “Aren’t you going to open it?”
“Got my hands full, haven’t I?” Ianto indicated the tray he was holding. “Why don’t you open it for me?”
“I can do that!” Jack opened the box and lifted out the tie.
The tension drained out of Ianto. “It’s lovely, Jack. Thank you.” The tie was slate grey with narrow diagonal stripes in pleasing shades of mossy green.
“I almost got you one with shamrocks on, but I didn’t think you’d wear it. Besides, this one can be worn all year round.”
“You really thought this through, didn’t you?”
“I’m not just a pretty face. So, will you wear it? Should go well with your shirt.”
Ianto looked down at his plum coloured shirt and the black and grey tie he was wearing with it. “I believe you’re right. Clear some space so I can put this down.” He held up the tray. “Coffee’s getting cold.”
“Can’t have that.” Jack moved some files so Ianto could slide the tray onto his desk, then snagged his mug as soon as it was within reach, draining half its contents in a couple of big gulps.
Ianto slipped his tie off and folded it neatly. Taking the new tie, he settled it around his neck and tied it with the ease of long practice. “How do I look?”
“Good enough to eat, not to mention appropriately festive. Just one thing missing.” Jack held out one hand, palm up.
Sighing, Ianto accepted the shamrock and pinned it to his lapel. “I hope you won’t expect me to celebrate St George’s Day with you.”
Jack looked horrified at the very idea. “Perish the thought; that’s so boring not even the English bother celebrating it.”
The End
Fandom: Torchwood
Author:
badly_knittedCharacters: Ianto, Jack
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Jack is intent on celebrating St. Patrick’s Day like any good Irishman…
Word Count: 500
Written For: Prompt 480: Shamrock.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters. They belong to the BBC.
A/N: A slightly longer version of this ficlet can be found on my journal.
Entering Jack’s office with coffee, Ianto stopped dead in his tracks. “Jack, what’ve you done to your hair?”
Jack beamed happily. “You noticed!”
“It would be difficult not to.” Ianto approached Jack’s desk.
“D’you like it?”
“It’s green.”
“Yep!”
“Why?”
“For St. Patrick’s Day, of course.”
“You’re not Irish.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“St. Patrick is Ireland’s patron saint,” Ianto explained patiently.
“I know that, I’m not stupid.”
“You’re in Wales, not Ireland, and weren’t you recently insisting you’ve been here long enough to be a Welsh citizen?”
“Well I have!”
“But now you’re celebrating an Irish national holiday?”
Jack pouted. “I like St Patrick’s Day, I wanted to join in the festivities.”
“You couldn’t just pin a shamrock to your lapel?”
“Oh, I’ve got one of those as well, and I got one for you too, so we could match!”
“I’m Welsh!”
“Don’t you want to show support for your neighbours across the sea?”
“Fine, just don’t expect me to dye my hair.”
“I knew you wouldn’t go for that so I got you this.” Jack slid a box across the desk towards Ianto, the kind a tie would come in. Ianto almost groaned with despair. If Jack had got him some tasteless tie covered in leprechauns and shamrocks… “Aren’t you going to open it?”
“Got my hands full, haven’t I?” Ianto indicated the tray he was holding. “Why don’t you open it for me?”
“I can do that!” Jack opened the box and lifted out the tie.
The tension drained out of Ianto. “It’s lovely, Jack. Thank you.” The tie was slate grey with narrow diagonal stripes in pleasing shades of mossy green.
“I almost got you one with shamrocks on, but I didn’t think you’d wear it. Besides, this one can be worn all year round.”
“You really thought this through, didn’t you?”
“I’m not just a pretty face. So, will you wear it? Should go well with your shirt.”
Ianto looked down at his plum coloured shirt and the black and grey tie he was wearing with it. “I believe you’re right. Clear some space so I can put this down.” He held up the tray. “Coffee’s getting cold.”
“Can’t have that.” Jack moved some files so Ianto could slide the tray onto his desk, then snagged his mug as soon as it was within reach, draining half its contents in a couple of big gulps.
Ianto slipped his tie off and folded it neatly. Taking the new tie, he settled it around his neck and tied it with the ease of long practice. “How do I look?”
“Good enough to eat, not to mention appropriately festive. Just one thing missing.” Jack held out one hand, palm up.
Sighing, Ianto accepted the shamrock and pinned it to his lapel. “I hope you won’t expect me to celebrate St George’s Day with you.”
Jack looked horrified at the very idea. “Perish the thought; that’s so boring not even the English bother celebrating it.”
The End
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