Double Drabble: Kitchen Mishap
Nov. 28th, 2021 04:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bk_forever
Title: Kitchen Mishap
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Jack.
Rating: G
Written For: Challenge 684: Sharp at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
tw100.
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Jack needs to be more careful in the kitchen.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Double drabble.
“I should know better than to leave you alone with sharp implements,” Ianto said with a sigh. He’d come running into the kitchen when he’d heard his lover’s pained cry, to find Jack with the fingers of one hand jammed in his mouth, and smears of blood on the chopping board he’d been using. “You were supposed to be cutting up the rhubarb, not your fingers.”
“Mmpf,” Jack agreed mournfully.
“It was an easy enough mistake to make, I suppose. The two things do look similar.”
“MMPF!” The indignation came through clearly; it was quite remarkable the way Jack could change the meaning of something that wasn’t even a proper word, simply by altering tone and emphasis.
“It’s a good thing you didn’t cut your fingers right off.” A horrible thought crossed Ianto’s mind. “You didn’t, did you? I don’t want to find stewed fingers in that pie.”
“Mmpf!”
“Right, silly of me to think that. There would’ve been a lot more blood if you had.” Ianto picked up the knife and chopping board. “Well, I’ll just wash these off and rinse the rhubarb; by then you should be healed. Just promise you’ll be more careful in future?”
“Mmpf.”
“Thankyou.”
The End
Author:
badly_knittedCharacters: Ianto, Jack.
Rating: G
Written For: Challenge 684: Sharp at
tw100.Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Jack needs to be more careful in the kitchen.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Double drabble.
“I should know better than to leave you alone with sharp implements,” Ianto said with a sigh. He’d come running into the kitchen when he’d heard his lover’s pained cry, to find Jack with the fingers of one hand jammed in his mouth, and smears of blood on the chopping board he’d been using. “You were supposed to be cutting up the rhubarb, not your fingers.”
“Mmpf,” Jack agreed mournfully.
“It was an easy enough mistake to make, I suppose. The two things do look similar.”
“MMPF!” The indignation came through clearly; it was quite remarkable the way Jack could change the meaning of something that wasn’t even a proper word, simply by altering tone and emphasis.
“It’s a good thing you didn’t cut your fingers right off.” A horrible thought crossed Ianto’s mind. “You didn’t, did you? I don’t want to find stewed fingers in that pie.”
“Mmpf!”
“Right, silly of me to think that. There would’ve been a lot more blood if you had.” Ianto picked up the knife and chopping board. “Well, I’ll just wash these off and rinse the rhubarb; by then you should be healed. Just promise you’ll be more careful in future?”
“Mmpf.”
“Thankyou.”
The End
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