Title: Somewhere that’s green
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Ianto, Jack
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 2,097 words
Content notes: None
Author notes: Written for Challenge 493 - Garden
Summary: Jack has a proposition for Ianto that includes something he’s never had before.


Ianto resisted slightly as Jack held his hand, tugging him forward from the car across the street. 'What's the rush?' Ianto asked.

'We've only got a couple of hours off this afternoon and I don't want to be wasting it with you being a naysayer and a stick in the mud.'

'You haven't even told me why we're here or what we're doing,' Ianto said, forcing himself to follow behind Jack as Jack continued to tug his arm, never letting go of his hand for even a moment.

'You told me you were looking for a new place to live,' Jack said. 'All I'm trying to do is help you make the decision on where your next forever home should be.'

'Forever home?' Ianto asked, raising an eyebrow at him as he continued to be dragged along the pavement. 'I never said anything about it being a forever home.'

'Well, maybe it will be,' Jack replied. 'You just never know. This could be the one.'

'The one?' Ianto asked, finally tugging free of Jack's grip. 'I'll get round to looking at properties when I can. It's not exactly a priority. I've still got another two months on my lease. That's plenty of time to find a new flat to rent.'

'Rent?' Jack asked. 'Who said anything about renting? I thought you meant to buy something proper this time.'

'Proper? What was wrong with the place I have?'

'Well, I mean apart from the fact that you're renting it?' Jack replied. 'It's not yours, is it really?'

'Well, not technically no,' Ianto replied, 'but that's sort of beside the point. Lots of people rent. Most people can't afford to buy a house. Not with the eye watering mortgages these days.' He paused and frowned at Jack from a moment. 'You're not showing me something you think I'm going to buy, are you?'

'Of course,' Jack replied. 'No more renting for you, Mr Jones. Time you grew up and joined the real world.'

Ianto rolled his eyes, as if Jack had ever truly joined the real world. The man thought the bunker under his office counted as a home. He certainly didn't come under the classification of “adulting” particularly well. ‘I'll eventually sort things out with an agent,’ he said. ‘I really don't need any help looking for properties.’

‘Well, this one just happens to be on the market,’ Jack replied.

‘And how would you know that?’

‘Because it's mine,’ he replied.

Oh great, Ianto thought. Not only was Jack trying to get him onto the property ladder, he was also trying to swindle him by selling him doozy of a property that once had been the crash pad of Captain Jack Harkness. God knew what state it would be in. It probably still had all of its original green linoleum, orange wallpaper and flaking yellow paint, pink bathtub and garish curtains. That would have been just Jack’s style. Not just in the 70’s but today in 2007 as well.

‘I don't think I want to live somewhere that's yours,’ Ianto replied. ‘And I mean that in the nicest way possible.’

‘Oh shush,’ Jack said, undeterred and dragging him up the front path, pulling a large wad of keys from his trouser pocket. He must have had about fifty keys on that key chain, Ianto thought. How he could ever figure out which one actually belonged to this house was beyond him. Yet somehow Jack managed to find the right one, slipping it into the lock and twisting it with ease before pushing the door open. ‘I think you'll be quietly surprised, Ianto.’

Ianto also thought he'd be surprised, though probably not quietly. Horrified might be the more accurate term.

The house was in fact quite surprising. It wasn't old at all on the inside. It was like it had been renovated in the last couple of years; all nice fresh white paint and modern interior, clean tiles, no linoleum. Even the carpets look virtually new and hardly worn. ‘And when exactly did you acquire this?’ Ianto asked.

‘Oh, I've had it kicking around in the back lot of assets for a few years,’ Jack replied, keeping things non-specific. One of these days Ianto was going to get the truth out of Jack Harkness but clearly today was not that day.

Jack dragged Ianto around upstairs downstairs, into rooms, inspecting the laundry, inspecting the toilet, inspecting the dishwasher. He actually seemed quite proud. ‘And the best part you haven't even seen yet,’ Jack told him.

Jack dragged him towards two wide sliding glass doors that looked out from the living room onto a small deck and courtyard. ‘Look at all that garden out there,’ he said, beaming with pride. ‘Three bedrooms, two bathrooms, off street parking and even a place for your very own veggie patch.

Ianto peered out through the sliding glass doors without actually stepping out into the courtyard. Jack wasn't wrong, it was a lot more space then he'd ever had before and it was very green, bordering on overgrown. ‘Not sure I know how I feel about having a garden,’ he said.

‘Oh, tut,’ Jack said. ‘You have one bad experience with a blood-sucking plant trying to take over your mind and suddenly every plant is a hazard.’

Jack had a point. He was still a little bitter about the plant that somehow convinced him that he was an excellent source of food, using a scalpel to cut away his own skin feeding it the blood that needed, whilst keeping him in some sort of co-dependent hypnotic trance. That was not something he cared to repeat anytime soon, or at all, if truth be told. He'd never had a garden, technically. He'd had the odd pot plant in his flat but mostly they tended to die on kitchen windowsills from neglect. It was barely enough that he could keep his pantry stocked and his washing machine from overflowing with weeks worth of laundry. Anything more than that was dedication. Torchwood just simply didn't allow for things like that.

‘Do you really think I'm cut out for a house with a garden?’ Ianto asked.

‘I don't see why not,’ Jack replied. ‘Gardening is apparently great stress relief.’

‘Yes, well, our lives don't need a lot more stress in them do they? He added with a smirk. ‘I just don't know where I'm going to find time for gardening though,’ he said. ‘You tend to keep me pretty busy, and that's just with the actual work.’ he added. He couldn't quite picture himself on a Saturday morning ripping out the lawn mower and the hedge trimmer, sweeping, pruning and snipping cut flowers. Then again, he'd also never pictured himself dating a 51st century time agent who also happened to be bloke and terribly attractive. His life had changed more than once. What was to say he couldn't change again?

‘And you want me to buy this place from you?’

‘Not buy,’ Jack replied, laughing. ‘It's yours if you want it.’

‘Jack, that makes absolutely no sense,’ Ianto replied. ‘I can't just have a house because it was yours and not pay for it.’

‘Well, I don't really have any use for it,’ Jack replied, ‘so you might as well have it.’

‘I could rent it,’ Ianto suggested. He didn’t want to feel like a kept man.

Jack frowned. ‘Why would you do that? I just said you could live in it. You don't have to pay me rent. And if you say not, I’m only going to have to sell it to someone else. Nice houses like this don’t come along every day.’

Ianto looked out at the garden again. Maybe it would be time for a change. He’d always lived in tiny little pokey spaces with one bedroom barely enough room to keep his clothes let alone those of anyone else who might stay over. This was an upgrade of epic proportions by comparison. Maybe he could try his hand a little bit of gardening, assuming he could find the time. It might be nice to have a few carrots and lettuce that he could pluck from the garden. Or even just some nice flowers to look at after coming home, neck deep in weevil blooding guts, fed up with snarky doctors and technical geniuses making his head hurt.

Maybe it would actually be nice just to sit out in nature for five whole minutes and not be thinking about the next thing that was going to come through the Rift. He definitely wasn’t a green thumb and wouldn't deign to say he knew anything about plants. He occasionally tended to the things that grew in the hub's hothouse but it was mostly just a bit of watering. It was more Owen's thing than his, trying to figure out what plants wanted light, what plants wanted water, and disturbingly through his own lived experience, which ones preferred blood. He couldn't remember much of that time, but it was enough to have put him off going up there and spending any considerable time with the greenery. Perhaps Earth-based plants would be more forgiving and less dependent on having a human host to feed them. Petunias would be a safe choice, and maybe some daffodils. Something that didn't need pruning into a prescribed shape every weekend, not that Ianto had weekends as it were.

He really hadn't had time to think about moving, an absence of weekends notwithstanding. It didn't matter that his lease was up in two months. Truthfully, he probably just would have ended up looking for the first property he found, checking it actually had a bedroom at a toilet, running hot water and heating, and wasn't miles from work, and just said yes, signed the lease there and then let that be that. He hadn't really given a thought to proper amenities or even whether it was a nice house on a nice street, let alone whether it had any greenery around the back. ‘Is that a potting shed right there at the back?’

Jack leaned toward the window and peered out of it as if he'd never seen it before. ‘Looks like it,’ he replied.

‘You mean you've owned it for however long you've owned it and you've never even noticed?’

Jack shrugged. ‘I never really had time for gardening myself.’

Just the image of Jack pushing a lawnmower forced a smile onto his face, trying not to laugh. They'd once pretended to be a nice normal couple, living undercover in a leafy Cardiff suburb, but Jack's outdoor activities were limited to washing the car, and even then not doing much of a job of it. It was Ianto who'd had to do all the hard scrubbing, drying off the water and polishing whilst Jack flirted with their neighbours. Ianto had taken pride in their front yard, if only because there was competition and he hated to admit it, but he really didn't like to lose. ‘Why doesn't it surprise me?’ Ianto replied.

‘Well, maybe you'll convince me, Mr Jones. It wouldn't be the first time you've convinced me to try something new.’

It was Ianto’s turn to laugh. He tried to picture Jack in wellington boots, thick hide gloves and a pair of secateurs, trimming the roses.

‘What's so funny?’ Jack was frowning. He didn't like to be the butt of Ianto's jokes particularly when he didn't even know what the joke was.

‘Oh, nothing, Ianto replied. ‘Just considering the possibilities.’ He fixed Jack with a serious look. ‘And you can reassure me that it doesn’t have any baggage I should know about? Shifting rooms, a tear in the space-time continuum, ghosts that might get jealous and try to kill me?’

‘Nothing like that, I promise. So… is that a yes?’

Ianto swivelled his head, taking in the living room and kitchen once more. ‘Well, I haven't really looked at anything else yet,’ he replied, ‘but unless I spot something else which has the fully manicured Chelsea Gardens around back I'd say this is probably going to be the one I pick.’

Jack was beaming. ‘See, I knew you'd see sense. It's like you were meant to have it.’

‘I get the feeling that you benefit out of this as well,’ Ianto replied. Now you've got someone to keep it in good knick.’

‘There's that,’ Jack admitted. ‘But it's much nicer thinking that you're kicking around between the walls. A house needs someone to make it a home,’ he said, ‘and Ianto Jones, I think this is the perfect one for you.’