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Title: "A Bad Bargain"
Disclaimer: I'm not RTD, I don't work for the BBC, and as much as I might like to, I don't own Jack or Ianto or any part of Torchwood. I do, however, order pizza under that name on principle.
Pairings: Jack/Ianto
Rating: PG
Notes/Summary: In which snow days do not occur. Written for the January 9 prompt at [livejournal.com profile] redismycolour.



"The white of the dusting of snow
lingers in the shadows, on the fallen leaves,
the cooler spots in the yard,
in the lee of the shrubs, the crooks of the branches
in subtle and still ways, remaining
a little longer, cooling the world,
providing fringe and accent
before the sameness of winter
when shades of gray in the snow
will mark its edges, dimensions
now it remains trim around the edges
in little and small places, in the calm
away from sun and activity
hiding a while before fading
slowly, slowly, away
before the winter coming"

-- Raymond A. Foss, "Winter Coming"


“The ground’s too warm,” Ianto said as he slid his belt through its loops. “It won’t stick.”

“It will if there’s enough of it.”

He did up the buckle with a sigh. “Which there won’t be short of some kind of freak occurrence.”

Jack laughed and flopped back onto the bed from where he’d been peering out Ianto’ s window. “Yeah, because nothing freakish ever happens in Cardiff.”

“You really should get dressed.”

“It’s snowing.” Jack sighed after a moment, and sat up to watch Ianto do up his tie. “You know, we didn’t have snow days where I grew up. Now that I’m in charge of a super secret organization, you’d think people wouldn’t mind when I tried to make up for lost time.”

Ianto snorted. “This is not a snow day. I can still see tarmac. All of the tarmac.” He threw a pair of underpants at Jack’s head. “Get a move on or Gwen will beat us to the Hub.”

“So?” Grudging, Jack put on the pants. “She can turn on all the lights for us and start making telephone calls so that when we get in and–”

“—I’ll owe her twenty quid,” Ianto grumped. “Now hurry up. You’re offsetting my geographic advantage.”

Jack tugged his trousers up. “So wait. If Gwen gets in first, you owe her, but if you’re in earlier…?”

“Whichever one of us begs off first on account of snow loses, but since I’m always in early, Gwen getting in first means a forfeit on my side. Ergo, the twenty quid.”

“I’m beginning to think I don’t give you two enough work.”

Ianto picked up his messenger bag and his keys. “I’ve got excellent time management skills. Now get the rest of your things. You can get dressed in the car.”
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