Title: Spicing things up
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack, Ianto
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 620 words
Content notes: None
Author notes: Written for Challenge 489 - Amnesty, using Challenge 54 - Spicy
Summary: Ianto is having difficulty enjoying Jack’s cooking.


Jack lifted the spoon to his mouth, pausing just long enough to take in the aroma and then shovelled it in, chewing thoughtfully. ‘Mmm…’ he finally said, passing judgement on it. ‘Delicious. Even if I do say so myself.’ He reached for his glass of wine and took a sip before returning to the meal in front of him.

Across the table from him Ianto dangled his spoon, toying with the food so lovingly prepared, pushing the casserole from one side of the bowl to the other. He had a mouthful or two but then went back to toying with it before finally putting that spoon down and pushing out his chair.

Jack’s head angled to one side. ‘Not hungry?’

‘Hungry,’ Ianto replied, allaying Jack's concerns, ‘just needs some salt and pepper,’ he added, padding across the kitchen towards the butler’s pantry that was like a treasure trove in the depths of space, where one could find anything that was hard or impossible to come by in many sectors of space. It was an occupational hazard in their line of work to be isolated for weeks and months at a time, far from any civilisation or marketplace. Cooking for so many consecutive weeks required a large repertoire of meals and an even larger stock of foodstuffs.

Jack put his spoon down and frowned at Ianto. ‘It doesn't need salt.’ His scowl deepened. ‘Or pepper. It's perfect.’ Jack should know. He'd spent two hours perfecting it. It was robust and delicate all at the same time, with just the right amount of herbs and spices.

‘Well, it tastes bland to me,’ came Ianto's reply, scrutinising the shelves for what he was looking for.

Jack growled under his breath. ‘Everything is bland according to you,’ he said. ‘Ever since you had that cold.’

Ianto huffed. ‘Well, it's not my fault that my senses of smell and taste were killed off. If it didn't taste bland I wouldn't need to spice it up. They said it could take weeks for everything to get back to normal.’

‘And until then you're going to ruin beautifully prepared dishes with unnecessary seasoning?’

‘Chilli flakes…’ Ianto mused loudly. ‘We had a bottle of chilli flakes in here, didn't we?’

‘We did,’ Jack said, ‘until someone used them all last week on my spag bol, chicken stir-fry and pizza.’ Each one had been a small indignity that Jack had suffered because he empathised with Ianto’s plight. Even coffee didn’t taste the same, so he'd been told, and to Jack, that was about as bad as things could possibly get.

‘I like spicy food,’ Ianto said. ‘You know that.’

‘This is not meant to be spicy,’ Jack argued. ‘It's meant to be flavoursome.’

‘Hmm…’ Ianto sounded disappointed at not being able to find what he wanted. ‘We've got hot paprika here. I suppose that would be a reasonable alternative.’

‘Ianto, for the love of God would you just sit down and eat the damn food I made you! If it’s bland, just deal with it.’

Ianto pouted, coming back to the table empty-handed like a naughty child, dropping into his chair and picking up the spoon like he had no choice. Jack knew he didn't mean to offend but it was hard not to take things like that personally.

Ianto chewed and swallowed, then did the same on repeat. ‘It's truly delicious,’ he said, though with the flat intonation of slight mockery not going unnoticed.’

‘Eat all your vegetables like a good little boy and I might let you have dessert.’

‘Just so long as dessert involves a bed and not something that comes in a bowl.’

Well, that would scupper plans for any chocolate body paint tonight.