Stimulus: Baking
Spoilers: None.
POV: Ianto
Dedication: Laura, who is a celiac (allergic to gluten/wheat); you have made my day a lot more hectic than it would have been, you intolerant-to-gluten-and-made-me-make-gluten-free-cakes-when-I-didn't-have-any-gluten-free-flour-FOOL!!
Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood.
AN:
-x-
The siren from the cog-door was only just about enough to drown out the sound of the alarm.
Beepbeepbeepbeepbeeeeeeeeppp…
He froze, frowning. Was that… was that what he thought it was? Had Jack finally got so sexually frustrated that he'd spontaneously combusted?
Well, he thought, smoothing down his suit jacket… we all knew it was going to happen some day.
And then he thought; is that really the kind of thing I say first thing in the morning when I haven't had any coffee yet? Heaven help us.
And then he ran to the kitchen.
Coughing and spluttering could only just be heard over the alarm and Jack's panicked yells; Ianto's eyes widened. What could have gotten Jack this scared? He rushed in.
There, sitting in the middle of the floor and covered in cake mixture was a very disgruntled looking Jack Harkness. "I don't like baking," the immortal pouted.
And then he laughed. He laughed so hard that tears rolled onto the smoky floor. He laughed so hard, he thought his ribs had cracked. The look on his bosses face had been priceless.
He probably shouldn't have laughed.
Then again, he reflected later from the cells, it had been so worth it.