badly_knitted (badly_knitted) wrote,
badly_knitted
badly_knitted

  • Mood:

Ficlet: Just A Cold

Title: Just A Cold
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Jack, Gwen, Owen, Tosh, Mickey, Nosy.  
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Ianto has caught a bad cold, but he’s trying not to let it affect his work.
Word Count: 500
Written For: Prompt 641: Sick (Cold/Flu) at slashthedrabble.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters. They belong to the BBC.




The peace and quiet was shattered as a deafening sneeze echoed throughout the Hub. Down in the autopsy bay, Owen dropped his scalpel with a clatter and cursed. Tosh squeaked in alarm and spilled her tea. Gwen fell off her chair, there was a yelp from Mickey in the garage as he hit his head on the SUV’s undercarriage, and Nosy took refuge under the sofa. The only reason Andy didn’t jump out of his skin was that it was his day off, but even though he was at home, he’d probably still heard the sneeze; it was that loud.


Jack came out of his office, sucking the finger he’d just accidentally stapled. “Bless you!” he shouted, startling everyone again.


“Thag you,” Ianto muttered, as he emerged from the stairwell leading down to the archives, where he’d retreated with his germs a few hours earlier. His eyes were red and watery, his nose even redder and sore from constant blowing, but he managed a weary smile. “Zorry ‘bout dat.”


“You should’ve stayed home, sweetheart,” Gwen chided gently, as Ianto walked past her workstation on his way to the kitchen to make himself a drink. Everyone else was fending for themselves to avoid catching his cold, except for Nosy, who had a natural immunity, and Jack, who’d been the one to give Ianto the cold in the first place. Of course, Jack had been fully recovered within a day, thanks to his rapid healing, while Ianto was enduring his fourth day of misery.


“I feel fide, jus’ zneezy an’ a bit bunged ub,” Ianto insisted, pulling another tissue from the box under one arm, blowing his nose, and dropping the used tissue in the binbag he’d taken to carrying around with him. “God lods ob worg needs doin’. Archibes won’ zort demselbs.”


“Gwen’s right, Ianto.” Jack approached his lover, a little warily in case of another sneeze. “I know you can still manage your job, and I know you’re being careful not to spread germs, but you’re scaring Nosy and causing injuries. I stapled myself!”


“Zorry.” Ianto’s shoulders slumped.


Jack wrapped both arms around him in a consoling hug. “Come on, I’ll drive you home, where you can sneeze in peace without disturbing anyone. Alright?”


Ianto gave a snuffly sigh. “Ogay.”


Pressing a kiss to Ianto’s hair, Jack steered him towards the underground garage. “I really should’ve insisted you stayed home.” He felt guilty for letting his lover come to work in his condition.


“Iz jud a code,” Ianto replied, before sneezing so hard he would have fallen over if not for Jack’s arm around his shoulders.


“No such thing as just a cold, and anyway, you’ll get over it much faster if you rest. I’m gonna take you home, get you settled on the sofa, and make you soup for lunch. You can spend the rest of the day watching DVDs and napping. I’ll even bring home takeout for dinner. How does that sound?”


Ianto sneezed.


“That’s what I thought.”



The End











Tags: fic, fic: one-shot, fic: pg, ficlet, gwen cooper, ianto jones, jack harkness, jack/ianto, mickey smith, nosy, nosy-verse, owen harper, slashthedrabble, torchwood fic, toshiko sato
Subscribe

  • Post a new comment

    Error

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.
  • 2 comments