Characters: Ianto, Jack, Gwen, Tosh, Owen.
Summary: Welsh pride on show, Ianto’s going all out for St. David’s Day.
Word Count: 997
Written For: Prompt 015 - Patriotism at fandomweekly.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters. They belong to the BBC
Ianto arrived at the Hub bright and early on March first, sporting a cheery yellow daffodil pinned to his lapel, and several bunches of them in the crook of his arm.
“Morning, Jack,” he called to his lover. “Hapus dydd dewi sant.”
Ianto stopped dead and turned to look up at Jack, on the catwalk outside his office. “Happy St. David’s Day, twpsyn! How long have you lived in Cardiff? Somewhere around a century, isn’t it? And still the Welsh language escapes you.”
“Hey, I know some Welsh words!”
“Most of which can’t be used in public.”
“Ah, but you don’t complain when I use them in private,” Jack smirked, earning himself an eye roll. “So, today’s St. David’s Day?”
“Just like every year.”
“Right. Your daffodil looks nice. Did you bring me one to wear?”
“So I can look patriotic too.”
“You’re not Welsh, Jack, you’re Boeshanian, which I suppose means you’re technically a foreign immigrant, just from a little further afield than most.”
“But like you said, I’ve lived here for over a century, so wouldn’t that make me a naturalised Welsh citizen?” Jack gave a hopeful smile.
“Well, when you put it that way…”
“So do I qualify for a daffodil? Or I’d settle for a leek.”
Ianto snorted with amusement. “There are a couple of leeks in the kitchen, but they might be a bit big. I was going to make leek soup later, but if you have a burning need to pin a giant leek to your coat, be my guest.”
“I’ll pass. I was thinking more along the lines of those artificial ones I saw people wearing last year.”
“Paper leeks are okay, but a bit plain; daffodils are more cheerful.” Ianto selected a bloom from one of his bunches. “I guess I can spare one from the Hub decorations.”
Beaming, Jack bounded down the steps, reaching for the bloom, but Ianto held it out of the way.
“You can’t wear it like this! Let me shorten the stem and find a pin. Kitchen.” He pointed the way and Jack obediently headed in the indicated direction.
By the time the rest of the team arrived, both Ianto and Jack were proudly wearing their daffodils, and vases of the flowers were dotted around the Hub, making it look quite festive.
“Happy St. David’s Day, Ianto,” Gwen said as Ianto set a coffee mug on her workstation.
“Hapus dydd dewi sant, Gwen,” he replied. “Where’s your daffodil?”
Gwen looked sheepish. “I don’t know. I did have one when I left home, but I was running late and in a hurry; it must’ve fallen off somewhere along the way.”
“There are a few spares in the kitchen. Are you going to the parade later?”
“Rift permitting. Are you?”
Ianto shook his head. “I’ve signed up for the run. By the time my race is over, I’ll probably have missed it.”
“You’re braver than me! It’s really chilly out; not the weather for wearing shorts.”
“Who’s wearing shorts?” Jack wanted to know, wandering over to retrieve his mug from Ianto’s tray.
“I am, or I will be in a while,” Ianto replied. “I told you last week that I’d only be in first thing today.”
“You did? Um, refresh my memory?”
“I’m running in the 10k race, which starts at noon, so I’ll be leaving here at eleven to get changed into my running clothes and check in. You’re sponsoring me.”
“You signed the form.”
Jack frowned. “I sign everything you put in front of me.”
“Of course. What else would you expect?”
“I’ll sponsor you too, Ianto.” Tosh came up behind him. “Where do I sign?”
Ianto pulled the form from his inside pocket; it was already almost full of signatures alongside varying amounts of money pledged per kilometre. Jack leaned over Tosh’s shoulder as she added her name, looking for his own. “You put me down for ten quid a kilometre? That’ll be a hundred if you finish!”
“When, not if. You can afford it, Jack. It’s for a good cause.”
“Fair enough. I’ll even add a bonus if I can wait at the finishing line to wrap you in a blanket,” he winked.
“Alright, but only if you promise to run with me next year, Mr. naturalised Welsh citizen.”
“It’s a deal.” They shook on it while Gwen persuaded a reluctant Owen to add his name to Ianto’s sponsorship form.
“50p a kilometre, Owen? Don’t be so bloody stingy,” Gwen snapped, snatching the pen from him and changing his pledge to five pounds, the same as hers and Tosh’s.
True to his word, Jack was waiting with a blanket at the ready when Ianto pounded across the finish line, breathing hard and sweating despite the cold wind and persistent rain. The rest of the team were there too, Tosh producing a towel so he could wipe off the worst of the rain before being wrapped in Jack’s blanket and Gwen offering a bottle of water, which he accepted gratefully.
“Not bad goin’, mate.” Owen clapped him on the back. “Forty-fourth place in just under thirty-eight minutes.”
Ianto brightened at the news. “That’s better than I expected in these conditions. Would’ve been faster without the headwind though. I was hoping to break thirty-five minutes, but I’m not that far off.”
“I’m sure you’ll do it next year,” Tosh told him encouragingly.
Jack nodded agreement. “We’ll train together for next year’s event.”
“I’ll believe that when I see it,” Ianto teased, sipping water.
“You doubt me?”
“I’ll have you know I can be every bit as patriotic as you are for my adopted home,” Jack stated indignantly.
“Does that mean I can count on your support against Owen, cheering on the home side the next time Wales play England at rugby?” Ianto chuckled as he walked away. It wasn’t often he could leave both Owen and Jack speechless; he intended to savour the moment.