[#111] Seasonal Fun (Torchwood)

[badly_knitted]

Theme Prompt: #111 – Pumpkin Patch
Title: Seasonal Fun
Fandom: Torchwood
Rating/Warnings: G
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 1000
Summary: It’s Jack and Ianto’s day off, so Jack has planned a day packed with fun, seasonal activities.



“I always thought pumpkin patches were more of an American thing,” Ianto said mildly as he looked out across acres of large orange gourds, and smaller patches of variously lumpy, warty, weird shaped white and green and yellow objects, dotted around like a bizarre rash.

Jack raised an enquiring eyebrow. “But British people buy Halloween pumpkins too! You get one every year yourself!” A note of suspicion entered his voice. “Wait a minute, aren’t you supposed to know everything?”

An exasperated sigh greeted his words. “That was supposed to be a joke!”

“What, the thing about the pumpkin patches?”

With an impressive roll of his eyes, Ianto turned a withering gaze on his lover. “No, twpsyn, the thing about knowing everything!”

“What?” Jack’s eyes went wide, and he stared at Ianto in disbelief. “Are you telling me don’t actually know everything?”

“Nobody can know everything, Jack, not even the Doctor; brains, human or otherwise, simply aren’t big enough. I know considerably more than most people do, thanks to a near photographic memory, but I’m not a walking encyclopaedia on every subject under the sun. I’ve never paid much attention to pumpkins beyond buying one at the supermarket to carve up for Halloween.”

“Oh. Huh.”

There was an odd, unreadable expression on Jack’s face. Ianto couldn’t tell whether the other man was disappointed about his lack of omniscience or relieved. Maybe it was a bit of both.

“What are we doing all the way out here anyway?” It seemed prudent to change the subject before Jack could start wondering just how many times Ianto had lied when he’d claimed to already know something. He never had, of course, not exactly; there’d been plenty of times he’d known Jack wasn’t telling him something, but he’d only known exactly WHAT he wasn’t being told on perhaps half of those occasions.

“It’s pumpkin season, everyone knows that! Pick your own pumpkins! I saw the sign a few days ago when I was out this way dealing with that group of Dinoom scientists who thought there were still herds of dinosaurs roaming the earth.” Jurassic Park had a lot to answer for. “It sounded like a fun thing to do, something a bit different. We wander through the pumpkin patch and pick out the ones we want, then take them home, carve them, and I can make pumpkin pies from the insides! You’re always complaining I never take you anywhere new.”

“It’s certainly different, but just how many of these pumpkins are you planning on purchasing?” Ianto was amused; who but Jack would think pumpkin picking made for a perfect date?

“Oh, not too many, just three or four, half a dozen at the most. Maybe we could get a few for carving and pie-making, then some of the weirder kinds just for decoration. What d’you think?”

“I think you’re certifiable, but okay, they’re probably a lot fresher and nicer than the ones at the supermarket, and I’m all for supporting local businesses. But I draw the line at anything that would take two people to carry it. Whatever we pick has got to fit in the car.”

Jack, who’d been scanning the fields for the biggest pumpkin he could find, deflated slightly. “Spoilsport. Okay, fine, no oversized pumpkins.”

“And nothing that’s already going squishy. I don’t want pumpkin ooze in the back seat.”

“What d’you take me for? Squishy pumpkins don’t make for good pies.”

“Ah, of course.” Ianto smiled teasingly. “Pie grade only. So, shall we wend our way in search of a perfect, not too large, non-squishy pumpkin or three?”

“We shall.” Jack grinned, holding out his hand, which Ianto accepted as they set off across the field, picking their way carefully over the uneven ground. It was a pleasantly mild autumn day, the sky pale blue between the patchy clouds, just right for being out and about perusing pumpkins.

They studied each orange globe they passed, evaluating them carefully for size, colour, and firmness. A substandard pumpkin would never do. Far off across the fields, other people in ones, and twos, and family groups, were doing the same, and occasionally Jack would get a look in his eye, as if he was worried that the pumpkins over where the other people were might be better than the ones they were looking at, but as Ianto reminded him, they couldn’t look at every single pumpkin in the patch before making their choices; that would take days.

“We could walk all the way over there only to find those pumpkins are nowhere near as good as the ones we’re already looking at. How about this one? Good size, nice, bright colour, and not at all squishy.”

Jack examined it and nodded. “Good choice.” He put a marker beside it to indicate it was reserved, and they continued their search.

Two hours later, with three fine pumpkins and four bizarre, colourful, warty gourds selected, they paid up and transported their purchases to the car. The gourds went in the boot, settled carefully so they wouldn’t bounce around and be damaged, while the pumpkins sat in a row on the backseat, each one safely strapped in, like children.

“You do know you’re weird, right?” Ianto asked as Jack secured the final seatbelt.

“There’s nothing weird about it. You’d be the first one to complain if they fell off and went splat.”

“Which isn’t going to happen with me driving.”

“What if someone steps out in front of the car and you have to slam the brakes on?”

Ianto inclined his head in acknowledgement of the possibility. He was an experienced, sensible driver, but there were a lot of idiots about.

“Everyone secure?”

“Yep!” Jack beamed at him. “We’re going to have the best carved pumpkins in the neighbourhood, and the best pumpkin pies! I love Halloween!”

“I noticed.” Smiling, Ianto slid behind the wheel as Jack jumped into the passenger side. “Maybe we should go pumpkin picking every year.”

“See? I knew you’d enjoy it!”


The End