Title: Building a better mousetrap
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 1,280 words
Content notes: None
Author notes: Written for Challenge 381 - Amnesty using Challenge 21 - Wire
Summary: Ianto has pests in the garden that need dealing with.
‘Woah,’ Jack said, stepping out into the small deck that led down towards their courtyard garden. It was barely light, even now at eight in the morning, but lo and behold, this was where he found his lover. He'd been missing from their bed when Jack woke, and judging by the industry going on outside, he'd been awake for some time. He was currently kneeling on the deck in front of a large roll of tightly woven chicken wire, spreading it out and cutting it into very specific and carefully measured shapes.
‘I didn't know we had chicken wire in the shed,’ Jack remarked without actually asking the obvious question of why Ianto was messing around with it in the first place.
‘We didn't,’ came the reply. ‘I popped down to the hardware store first thing this morning and got it.’
‘Okay…’ Ianto was always doing things that made little sense to Jack but it tended to make him more endearing, rather than less. ‘Is there a reason why we needed it first thing this morning?’ It was Saturday and they should have been sleeping in, enjoying a rare day off. Jack had a mind to drag him to his feet and back to bed regardless of the explanation. Surely nothing could be more important than Saturday morning cuddles in bed.
Ianto scowled at him and then pointed accusatorially. ‘That's why,’ he said, mood changing with the flick of a switch from intensely focused to suitably annoyed.
Jack's eyes followed his slender accusing finger towards a large terracotta pot. He tried to remember what had been in there, now just a straggling mess of chewed off stems. ‘That,’ Ianto explained, sensing Jack's confusion, ‘used to be our coriander. It was actually looking really good a few days ago, nice and bushy and just about ready for us to start clipping off a bit to use in our cooking. Not now, though,’ he said, adding a bitterness to his voice. ‘Some other bugger decided to get to it first. Completely decimated overnight. And not for the first time either. It was missing a few leaves about two weeks ago and I didn't think much of it, but now… once bitten twice shy, Jack. We've got rats - or squirrels - but most likely rats. And they're eating our little veggie patch.’
Jack nodded. ‘Right. So this?’ He indicated Ianto's project. He could already see a few more advanced examples, shaping the wire into cube like shapes with an open bottom that looked ready to place over the top of endangered pots of mint and basil.
‘A pre-emptive strike to protect what we've got left.’
‘Don't you think this all looks a bit, I don't know, brutal?’
Ianto's look was withering. ‘Oh sure, today it's the coriander, tomorrow it'll be the radishes and the sugar snap peas, and then after that once they've eaten everything out here they'll come inside in the middle of the night and eat our faces off and-’
‘Ianto, you're being melodramatic.’
‘I am NOT being melodramatic!’ he fumed, knowing full well he'd employed some of Jack's histrionic traits. ‘We're being invaded by creatures who have no respect. This isn't some huge veggie patch. It's a little kitchen garden for two - that's me and you. Not every other creature that fancies popping by to have a snack whenever they want. When they spend as much time and energy looking after it and making sure it grows then they can share in the bounty. As it stands, we haven't had any of it and I'm the one doing all the work!’
Jack surveyed the scene again. This felt like going to extreme measures rather than slowly escalating their options. ‘If it's rats couldn't we just put out a bunch of rat traps?’
‘Oh yes, let's,’ came the overtly sarcastic remark. ‘Do you want to have to navigate our back deck every morning worrying about how many times your toe gets caught in one? I certainly don’t want to be dealing with a first aid crisis every other day. Not to mention having to go and remove the dead rats, or worse, still alive and squealing.’
It was hard to believe they were getting hung up over a few rodents. Then again, Ianto was very house proud, even if he staunchly denied it, and the garden was definitely one of the things that he was most invested in. ‘You deal with weevils and worse for a living.’ Jack reminded him.
Ianto's eyes narrowed at him. ‘Not the point. And you talk about rat traps like it's a once and for all solution. Kill one rat and three just take its place.’
‘I don't think there's that many rats in Cardiff.’ With the number of weevils prowling the city’s sewers, the rat population really didn't stand a chance. It was at the bottom of a ruthless food chain when it came to living in Cardiff’s underground metropolis.
‘Well, there's enough to eat our veggies and herbs. At least this way we stop them from getting at what they want. Hopefully then they'll get the message that there's nothing here for them and then move on to some other poor sod’s property.’
‘I suppose that's fair enough. Still…’
Ianto’s head cocked sideways even as he still gripped the wire cutters. ‘What?’
‘Just…’ Jack tried to find a polite way to explain it and then decided to go for honesty instead. ‘It just looks like you've turned our little patch into a prison camp. I've spent a bit of time in prisons over the years and some would find this scene triggering.’
Ianto’s brow furrowed in concern. ‘Not you, though.’
‘No. Not me,’ Jack assured him.
‘This is an anti-prison,’ Ianto replied. If anything, I'm trying to keep the nasties out, not in. I did think about this before I started. It wasn't just a flight of rage or madness.’
‘Oh, I don't know. I'll. Bet there was a fair bit of rage there.’ And madness, he didn't add. When Ianto got fixated on something, there was little going to change his mind.
‘Be that as it may, my designs are meant to protect the plants with minimum intrusion. They're like little cloche cages. Easy to lift and remove when we want to get access, and to get rid of if we find the rats have moved on. It's this or just go back to growing posies. They might look nice but they'll be useless in cooking.’
Jack cringed at the prospect. He'd gotten used to having fresh garden produce ready to pick at a moment's notice. When you worked the hours they did, the shops weren't always open for a quick few items on the way home and their fridge and pantry were usually filled with items that had a long shelf life, just in case. Still, nothing beat a handful of fresh herbs and a crunchy capsicum tossed into an otherwise boring garden salad. Not that theirs were boring. There were always lettuce leaves ready for picking and eating.
‘Okay. If you say this is the only way…’
‘I do. It's the rats or us. I choose us. Sure, a few wire cages are never going to win us any prizes at Chelsea but we'll at least have our hard earned food.’
Jack couldn’t help the amused grin that crossed his face as Ianto placed one of his newest creations securely over their flourishing crop of basil. ‘And you keep telling me you're anti-bondage.’
Ianto smirked. ‘If I have enough left over maybe I'll think about making a bigger one for sexy playtime. This whole exercise shouldn’t be a complete waste of effort.’
‘Woah,’ Jack said, stepping out into the small deck that led down towards their courtyard garden. It was barely light, even now at eight in the morning, but lo and behold, this was where he found his lover. He'd been missing from their bed when Jack woke, and judging by the industry going on outside, he'd been awake for some time. He was currently kneeling on the deck in front of a large roll of tightly woven chicken wire, spreading it out and cutting it into very specific and carefully measured shapes.
‘I didn't know we had chicken wire in the shed,’ Jack remarked without actually asking the obvious question of why Ianto was messing around with it in the first place.
‘We didn't,’ came the reply. ‘I popped down to the hardware store first thing this morning and got it.’
‘Okay…’ Ianto was always doing things that made little sense to Jack but it tended to make him more endearing, rather than less. ‘Is there a reason why we needed it first thing this morning?’ It was Saturday and they should have been sleeping in, enjoying a rare day off. Jack had a mind to drag him to his feet and back to bed regardless of the explanation. Surely nothing could be more important than Saturday morning cuddles in bed.
Ianto scowled at him and then pointed accusatorially. ‘That's why,’ he said, mood changing with the flick of a switch from intensely focused to suitably annoyed.
Jack's eyes followed his slender accusing finger towards a large terracotta pot. He tried to remember what had been in there, now just a straggling mess of chewed off stems. ‘That,’ Ianto explained, sensing Jack's confusion, ‘used to be our coriander. It was actually looking really good a few days ago, nice and bushy and just about ready for us to start clipping off a bit to use in our cooking. Not now, though,’ he said, adding a bitterness to his voice. ‘Some other bugger decided to get to it first. Completely decimated overnight. And not for the first time either. It was missing a few leaves about two weeks ago and I didn't think much of it, but now… once bitten twice shy, Jack. We've got rats - or squirrels - but most likely rats. And they're eating our little veggie patch.’
Jack nodded. ‘Right. So this?’ He indicated Ianto's project. He could already see a few more advanced examples, shaping the wire into cube like shapes with an open bottom that looked ready to place over the top of endangered pots of mint and basil.
‘A pre-emptive strike to protect what we've got left.’
‘Don't you think this all looks a bit, I don't know, brutal?’
Ianto's look was withering. ‘Oh sure, today it's the coriander, tomorrow it'll be the radishes and the sugar snap peas, and then after that once they've eaten everything out here they'll come inside in the middle of the night and eat our faces off and-’
‘Ianto, you're being melodramatic.’
‘I am NOT being melodramatic!’ he fumed, knowing full well he'd employed some of Jack's histrionic traits. ‘We're being invaded by creatures who have no respect. This isn't some huge veggie patch. It's a little kitchen garden for two - that's me and you. Not every other creature that fancies popping by to have a snack whenever they want. When they spend as much time and energy looking after it and making sure it grows then they can share in the bounty. As it stands, we haven't had any of it and I'm the one doing all the work!’
Jack surveyed the scene again. This felt like going to extreme measures rather than slowly escalating their options. ‘If it's rats couldn't we just put out a bunch of rat traps?’
‘Oh yes, let's,’ came the overtly sarcastic remark. ‘Do you want to have to navigate our back deck every morning worrying about how many times your toe gets caught in one? I certainly don’t want to be dealing with a first aid crisis every other day. Not to mention having to go and remove the dead rats, or worse, still alive and squealing.’
It was hard to believe they were getting hung up over a few rodents. Then again, Ianto was very house proud, even if he staunchly denied it, and the garden was definitely one of the things that he was most invested in. ‘You deal with weevils and worse for a living.’ Jack reminded him.
Ianto's eyes narrowed at him. ‘Not the point. And you talk about rat traps like it's a once and for all solution. Kill one rat and three just take its place.’
‘I don't think there's that many rats in Cardiff.’ With the number of weevils prowling the city’s sewers, the rat population really didn't stand a chance. It was at the bottom of a ruthless food chain when it came to living in Cardiff’s underground metropolis.
‘Well, there's enough to eat our veggies and herbs. At least this way we stop them from getting at what they want. Hopefully then they'll get the message that there's nothing here for them and then move on to some other poor sod’s property.’
‘I suppose that's fair enough. Still…’
Ianto’s head cocked sideways even as he still gripped the wire cutters. ‘What?’
‘Just…’ Jack tried to find a polite way to explain it and then decided to go for honesty instead. ‘It just looks like you've turned our little patch into a prison camp. I've spent a bit of time in prisons over the years and some would find this scene triggering.’
Ianto’s brow furrowed in concern. ‘Not you, though.’
‘No. Not me,’ Jack assured him.
‘This is an anti-prison,’ Ianto replied. If anything, I'm trying to keep the nasties out, not in. I did think about this before I started. It wasn't just a flight of rage or madness.’
‘Oh, I don't know. I'll. Bet there was a fair bit of rage there.’ And madness, he didn't add. When Ianto got fixated on something, there was little going to change his mind.
‘Be that as it may, my designs are meant to protect the plants with minimum intrusion. They're like little cloche cages. Easy to lift and remove when we want to get access, and to get rid of if we find the rats have moved on. It's this or just go back to growing posies. They might look nice but they'll be useless in cooking.’
Jack cringed at the prospect. He'd gotten used to having fresh garden produce ready to pick at a moment's notice. When you worked the hours they did, the shops weren't always open for a quick few items on the way home and their fridge and pantry were usually filled with items that had a long shelf life, just in case. Still, nothing beat a handful of fresh herbs and a crunchy capsicum tossed into an otherwise boring garden salad. Not that theirs were boring. There were always lettuce leaves ready for picking and eating.
‘Okay. If you say this is the only way…’
‘I do. It's the rats or us. I choose us. Sure, a few wire cages are never going to win us any prizes at Chelsea but we'll at least have our hard earned food.’
Jack couldn’t help the amused grin that crossed his face as Ianto placed one of his newest creations securely over their flourishing crop of basil. ‘And you keep telling me you're anti-bondage.’
Ianto smirked. ‘If I have enough left over maybe I'll think about making a bigger one for sexy playtime. This whole exercise shouldn’t be a complete waste of effort.’
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