sariagray: (Default)
[personal profile] sariagray
Title: Christmas in the Hub
Author[livejournal.com profile] sariagray 
Characters/Pairings: Jack/Ianto, Gwen/Rhys, Owen, Tosh, Myfanwy
Rating: PG13-ish?
Word Count: 1409
Spoilers: Nothing really. Owen and Tosh are still alive. Everyone is happy, so this may just be an AU.
Warnings: Occasional language, Fluff!, Christmasy, all the usual stuff.
Beta: Beta'd by the wonderful [livejournal.com profile] thebuttonontop . :)
Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction. No monetary compensation has been or will be garnered from this endeavor. This is purely for entertainment purposes and is no way intended to disrespect the creators/owners of Torchwood.

Author's Note: This was written as a holiday gift to [livejournal.com profile] badly_knitted . She requested: "Myfanwy joining in the team's christmas celebrations! Preferably with Tosh and Owen still alive. And Rhys!" I hope this fits the bill. Also, follows on from Not So Secret, so read that first, yeah? It isn't necessary, but it makes all of this slightly more sensible. :) In any case, enjoy!


 
Christmas In The Hub

Despite having been inducted into what he termed the “secret lift club,” the plummeting sensation of traveling downward without a bit of railing to keep him from tumbling off always unnerved Rhys. That he was uncomfortably clutching a precarious tower of presents didn’t help matters. The bloody swooping pteranodon wasn’t much of a comfort, either.

“Father Christmas!” Ianto shouted from somewhere below him. Rhys didn’t dare to look down, but he could hear the teasing grin in his voice.

“Aw, I told him to dress up. Rhys, love, I even rented you a costume!”

The lift made its final lurch as it slotted into place and Rhys stepped off with a prayer of gratitude on his lips. He thrust the packages at Gwen and breathed a sigh of relief as he glanced around. The Hub looked exactly the same, except for a pathetic-looking twig of a tree and a few haphazardly strewn fairy lights.

“Nice. Looks…homey. If you live in a dungeon, anyway,” he commented.

A hand clapped him on the shoulder and Rhys turned to face Jack. “Yeah, well, some of us do.”

That bloody pteranodon shrieked overhead and Ianto laughed. “Like her. We tried to do more, but we haven’t had much time.” He shrugged.

“Put the presents under the tree. Owen and Tosh were on a retrieval, but they’re on their way back now. Oh, and there’s cocoa, so I’m told,” Jack said as he made for his office, Ianto at his side.

If they noticed the two men subconsciously grasping for each other’s hands, they didn’t say a thing. Rhys turned to his beaming wife and smiled back, taking a few of the packages from her stack. As he followed her to the tree (and he used the term loosely), she looked back at him.

“Thanks,” she said softly. “I know you wanted a proper Christmas, but –“

“This is a proper Christmas, love,” he winked. “Now hurry it up. I want some of this cocoa.”

----

This was new. Strange. The tree in the middle of her home was a bit unsettling, more so because it was covered in flashing stars and colored metal rocks. Trees weren’t supposed to look like that. And everyone was calm, quiet, happy.

Her pet human had been humming something today, something unfamiliar and light, and his mate caught him and hummed along. They laughed. They also kissed a lot, but that wasn’t new. Not new at all, except that whenever they did, they were under a plant. In fact, those strange plants were hanging everywhere. She tried to eat one, but it didn’t taste green or real. Not that she particularly liked the taste of green, but this was bizarre.

She liked that her home smelled of that warm, sweet, dark thing he fed her, though. It made her mouth water; try as she might, she couldn’t find the source. It filled the air but was nowhere to be seen.

And then the man came with big things that sparkled and they put them under the tree. And the others added to the pile. She hadn’t seen them do it before. Maybe her pet and his mate were finally building a nest? Well! It was about time.

The other two humans, the ones who had the longest mating ritual she had ever witnessed, came back carrying more of the things. Some were small, some were large, but they all had colorful blobs on them. And those were added to the nest, too. She wanted to tell them that they needed to build higher up so that the young would be safe, but she knew that they wouldn’t understand her.

-----

Gwen tore the paper off of her Secret Santa gift with exuberance. Bits and pieces of it ended up in a semicircle around her and Ianto struggled to remain silent. Jack must’ve noticed, because he began to shift the shreds into a more manageable pile with the toe of his boot.

The last of the paper finally removed, she held the large box away from her to better examine it.

“It’s a…pasta machine? Er, thanks Ianto!” Her fallen face brightened instantly in a mask of joy. “I love pasta! How did you know?”

Ianto smiled sweetly at her. “I know everything.”

His cover would’ve been entirely successful if Rhys had been able to contain his laughter. As it was, Gwen caught on quickly. She whirled around to face her husband.

“You put him up to this, didn’t you?” She groaned. “Right, then my real present is you making me homemade pasta for a week!”

Rhys grinned at the prospect, still gasping a bit as he calmed down. “Of course, love!”

“All right,” Gwen said, shaking her head in amusement as she set down her new pasta machine. “Ianto’s the last to receive.”

Jack grinned and gestured for all of them to follow him. They exchanged glances but did as bidden. Ianto noticed that Rhys was still chuckling, but he couldn’t tell if this was residual laughter or if something new was afoot.

He decided it was the latter when Jack and Rhys shuffled together to block his view.

“What? What is it?” He tried to peer over them to see what they were hiding, but they stood firm.

Jack laughed at his lover’s eagerness and watched him try to balance on his toes to see more clearly.

Looking at each other, the two men standing as barriers parted. Ianto gasped. He wasn’t alone; Owen, Tosh, and Gwen echoed the sound like a chorus.

In place of his old, decrepit coffee maker was a sleek new model, all stainless steel and smooth lines. It was a work of art unto itself and could quite possibly service an entire café on its own.

“Jack, I –“ Ianto began before being cut off.

“I kept your old one, too, just in case this one…wasn’t right,” Jack explained, worry creasing his brow.

“It’s…perfect,” he breathed. “How did you get it in place so fast? It wasn’t here when I made cocoa.”

“A Christmas miracle?” Jack suggested hopefully.

Ianto chuckled and approached the machine, running his hand gently over the cool surface.

“Jack!” Gwen exclaimed once her shock (and, admittedly, delight) had passed. “When I said £20, I meant British currency. I did not mean twenty pounds of gold!”

The admonished Captain gave her a sheepish grin. “Well, Rhys told me that the rule was you had to multiply the limit by how many times you’ve kissed the person you picked. And, uh, I hadn’t counted. So I just estimated.”

Yet again, Gwen rounded on her husband, who simply beamed at her.

“What?” he asked, defiantly. “I owed Ianto for buying the pasta machine! Besides, you’re all benefitting, too!”

“All right, all right,” she gave in easily. “Well, now presents are done, can we sing carols?”

“Not yet,” Ianto shook his head, breaking away from his new love with great reluctance (and wasn’t Jack having second thoughts about his gift now?). “Still one more gift.”

Gwen sighed. “I know I can’t sing, you don’t have to procrastinate. I promise I’ll be real quiet about it.”

Laughing, Ianto put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “No, I’m serious.”

Curiosity piqued, the others followed him back into the main area of the Hub. They were surprised when he bade them stay put and retreated behind Suzie’s old station. They were even more surprised when he struggled to drag out a large box, taller and bigger around than he was.

-----

Now her human pet was moving a big human-sized thing to the center of her home and gesturing at the other creatures. Myfanwy watched curiously from her perch as he removed the lid and whistled while the others moved far back.

Wait, that was her whistle! She descended quickly and gracefully. He pulled the sides of the thing and they fell apart. Inside was…was…that dark stuff. The delicious thing! As she chomped down happily, she heard one of them say something that sounded like “Father Christmas,” but she wasn’t really paying attention.

-----

“You…you gave your dinosaur a giant dark chocolate Father Christmas?” Owen looked at Ianto like he had five heads. “Is she going to start eating people now, thinking they’re made of chocolate?”

“It’s doubtful. She associates the smell, I think. Not the image.”

Jack chuckled. “Happy Christmas, Myfanwy.”

The pteranodon looked up at the mention of her name. Jack swore she winked.

The End
 

Date: 2010-12-13 03:26 pm (UTC)
bk_forever: (Don't Call Me A Woobie)
From: [personal profile] bk_forever
Ooooh! Fluffy fluff! *bounces wearily*

My mum is 79, so she doesn't work, but she's forever moaning to me that she doesn't have time to do any of the things she wants to do - embroidery, sketching, painting etc. I grit my teeth and don't say anything. I'd love to point out to her that she'd have plenty of time to do all that and more if she didn't watch TV from the minute she gets up until she goes to bed, but if I did, she'd just get in a stroppy mood and be unbearable to live with. In between programmes, she moans about the adverts - she dislikes practically everything that's being advertised. Actually, she moans about everything. When she goes out shopping, she comes home moaning about the bus drivers, the shop assistants, the other shoppers, on and on about how they have no manners, then she shoves past me without so much as an 'excuse me', nearly knocking me over, (she weighs a good 3 stone more than I do) and leaves me to put everything away. I'm not surprised people are so unpleasant to her - she has no manners! I never have problems like that when I go out!

Wonder how much grumpy old women sell for on ebay...

Profile

sariagray: (Default)
sariagray

November 2011

S M T W T F S
   1 23 4 5
67 89 101112
13 14 15161718 19
20 21 22 23242526
27282930   

Most Popular Tags

Page Summary

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jun. 8th, 2025 03:04 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios