Characters: Ianto, Jack, Tosh.
Summary: The Rift has dropped its first gift of the year in another really inconvenient place. Ianto is not happy.
Word Count: 500
Written For: Prompt 69: Ivy at anythingdrabble.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
The Rift was playing games with them again, that was how it felt to Ianto. He’d lost count of how many times he’d complained about the way it seemed to delight in dropping its gifts in the most awkward places possible, and now it had done it again.
“Happy New Year,” he grumbled sourly. “What could possibly be a more perfect start to the year than trying to find something small and possibly made of wood in this?” His sweeping gesture encompassed what might once have been a suburban garden but was now a jungle, comprised of two of the fastest-growing plants in the British Isles, namely blackberry brambles and ivy. “We don’t even have much idea what we’re looking for!”
“Tosh said it was small and made of a woody substance,” Jack said helpfully.
“And exactly how small is ‘small’?” Ianto asked. He’d meant it rhetorically, but Jack answered anyway.
“Unknown, but probably smaller than an apple.”
“How enlightening.” Ianto knew he was being snippy, but this wasn’t the start to the year he’d been hoping for.
It wasn’t Tosh’s fault she couldn’t provide more accurate information; all the data on Rift spikes had to be collected during the fraction of a second that elapsed as an object passed through the energy field separating Cardiff from the void. She collected as much information as she could, but despite the software she’d developed to analyse it, and all her technical know-how, in most cases all she could provide was a rough estimate of size and some indication of whether or not the new arrival was alive. On rare occasions it was possible to determine what an item was made of, in this case something with similarities to wood, but it wasn’t much to go on, especially not when faced with a search area that included trees and bushes buried beneath the more vigorous plants. Even using their scanners to detect Rift energy, finding the right bit of wood was going to take time.
Still, there was nothing to be gained from just standing around.
“Best get on with it then.” At least, Ianto reflected, he’d had the foresight to change into jeans when he’d been told the location. He didn’t need pulled threads all over one of his suits; jeans were much more hardwearing, not to mention easier and cheaper to replace.
The brambles turned out to be less of a problem than the ivy. Yes, the thorns snagged on sleeves and trouser legs, but the ivy would around ankles, constantly tripping both men and slowing their search down because they kept having to stop and disentangle each other.
“This place needs a gardener,” Ianto muttered, picking himself up off the ground yet again.
“I don’t know,” Jack said, “I sort of like it; must be a paradise for wildlife. Maybe we could come back in summer and pick blackberries.”
“Let’s just find what we’re looking for and go home.”
The rest of 2019 had to be better than this!