Characters: Ianto, Jack.
Summary: It’s a cold, rainy day, and the last thing Ianto and Jack want is to be out in it.
Word Count: 500
Written For: Prompt 108: Dry at anythingdrabble.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
“It’s impossible to stay dry in this,” Ianto grumbled, tilting his umbrella in an effort to block the rain as the wind changed direction yet again. The sharp gusts tugged at the fabric, pulling this way and that, threatening to turn the umbrella inside out and at times almost yanking the handle from his grip. That just made him clench his gloved hand more tightly around it, not wanting to lose what little protection he had from the weather.
Beside him, Jack cursed as the top half of his brolly was abruptly ripped away to roll down the middle of the street like a brightly coloured tumbleweed, leaving him standing there with only the handle. He made as if to give chase, perhaps thinking he might be able to put the two parts back together again and restore his umbrella to functionality, then stopped as an oncoming car ran right over it, mangling the ribs beyond any hope of repair.
“My umbrella!” Jack’s face fell as he witnessed its demise. “I really liked that one.” Wandering into the road as soon as it was clear, heedless of the rain pouring down on him, Jack retrieved the tattered remains and returned to Ianto, sad-eyed and mournful. “It’s dead,” he informed his lover before shooting a murderous glare in the direction the car had gone. “Did you get the number plate of that car? I want to press charges!”
“I don’t think it’s technically illegal to run over umbrellas,” Ianto pointed out. “It’s not like they’re living creatures.”
“How do you know? They might have feelings! How would you like it if someone ran right over you and you got smooshed?”
“Well I’m sure it didn’t suffer for long.”
Rain was running down Jack’s face now, dripping from his nose and streaming from his soaking wet hair, darkening the fabric of his coat.
“Don’t just stand there getting drenched; get under here.” Ianto tilted his own umbrella, offering Jack what shelter it could provide, but Jack shook his head.
“Not much point now, it’s not like I can get much wetter, and I don’t want to drip on you. Besides, we’re not far from home now.”
“Fine, let’s just get back and into the dry then, before we both drown.” Head down into the wind, Ianto ploughed forwards once more and a few minutes later pushed open the gate of his small end-terrace house.
Shaking his umbrella he left it in the stand in the enclosed porch, hung his coat up to drip dry, and left his shoes on the mat. Jack trailed in after him, dropping the remains of his umbrella on the tiles and stepping into the welcome warmth, where Ianto offered him a towel to dry his hair.
“All this because we needed bread. I just hope we don’t have to go out there again tonight,” Ianto grumbled, staring out the window.
“Same here. The best place to be when it rains is indoors where it’s warm and dry.”