Author's Notes: Well, this is rather short and also another comic relief chapter, because the next one is the last one and I think I won't be the most loved person out there when I finish it. The prompt was a bit weird and therefore unlike anything I've written before in this story, but I hope you like it.
There's a character - I'll avoid spoiling it for you - that has been mentioned but actually shows up for the first time, so I hope I did it well.

Day Twenty-Nine: Cooking/Baking

Several days had passed since they'd got back in the TARDIS and Jack had forgotten the accident that had actually put end to their otherwise nice-going honeymoon. They'd got back to the usual routine – if there was such a thing as a routine in their life – and one morning, in search of Ianto who hadn't been in bed when Jack had woken up, he'd ended up in the kitchen for the first time since he was on board.

The Doctor was sitting on the table, eating something that looked like white plasma with yellow dots scattered all over it. "What is that?" Jack asked in disgust, the Ianto case momentarily forgotten. He had noticed that all of his fellow travellers had the strangest taste for food and yet, this won all the awards at once.

"Boiled eggs!" The Doctor said, poking the thing with his spoon. "Ianto made them for me."

"Oh." Jack's eyes widened. "God, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

"Of course I am." The Doctor frowned, eyes dancing suspiciously between his plate and Jack. "What do you mean?"

"Ianto can't cook," Jack said, lowering his voice just in case the man in question was somewhere about. "He really, really can't. He knows the theory - he knows the theory of everything - but can't actually do anything with it to save his life. Look at these things." He nodded to the Doctor's eggs. "Seriously, he means good, but I wouldn't eat it if I were you."

"I see you've went back to degrading my cooking skills," Ianto's voice came from the door opposite of Jack – all roads led to the kitchen, it seemed – and he looked up to see his lover leaning against the doorframe, a lazy smile playing on his lips and a towel wrapped around his hips. "The eggs would have been brilliant if the hot plate wasn't older than the Solar System and plus, the Doctor seems to like them. Don't you?"

The Doctor just nodded and gave hi the thumbs up and Jack noticed, with increasing worry, that his mouth was actually full with the eggs - or whatever had remained of them after Ianto's treatment.

"Where've you been?" Jack asked while also deftly avoided to comment on the food. "I've been looking for you."

"I wanted to try the pool. And don't change the topic," he added as he apparently noticed the way the Captain was eyeing him up and down appraisingly (after all, not even potential food poisoning could be a distraction enough from Ianto in nothing but a towel), and turned to the Doctor. "Don't listen to the lies he's feeding you. I'm an amazing cook."

"Yeah, remember what happened last time?"

"What happened last time?" The Doctor asked warily, dropping the spoon as if it had burned him. Jack shook his head forlornly, "Don't ask. It's a very sad story involving a pile of pancakes and a tank of prehistoric fish."

"That had nothing to do with me," Ianto retorted with all the dignity he could muster. "It's not my fault the toaster exploded."

"You do not put pancakes in the toaster, Ianto."

"No, but I was making them near the toaster. Tosh was the one to make it explode."

"Told you. He's alive only because I cook for the both of us since I started coming to his flat at all," Jack said as he went to the toaster here – one, he hoped, that would be more reliable than the one in Torchwood – to get his breakfast and yawned as he poured milk for himself, feeling Ianto's arms wrap around his waist and his hot breath in his ear. "If you're good enough at cooking to keep bragging about it, are you willing to teach me, Captain?"

"Seriously, do you have to do that?" Jack looked over his – and Ianto's – shoulder and saw the Doctor looking at them in disgust. "What is it with everyone and..." he flailed his arms expressively, "this, all the time?"

Ianto laughed heartily and, as the Doctor left the kitchen hastily, he looked back at Jack with the kind of flame in his eyes that never meant something good – even if what was currently on his mind was the most harmless idea in the world.

"Okay," Jack said, his toasts forgotten. "Let's end this once and for all."

o.O.o

"You're doing it wrong," Jack chastised, trying to take the spoon out of Ianto's hands, only to have him yank it back stubbornly.

"That's what the instructions say, Jack," the Time Lord said, now pouring even more water into the bowl. "There isn't another way to do it. This is easier than instant coffee." The disdain in his voice only showed how much he valued Jack's advises on the whole situation.

"It might be," Jack agreed halfheartedly, then immediately was forced to change his mind. "But it's not supposed to smell like that, Ianto!"

They both jumped away from the oven as Ianto's first not potentially lethal attempt at cookery – pasta – started letting out something that smelled like rotten tomatoes and the door opened to let in Amy, her nose scrunched.

"What's going on here?" She asked, frowning as she fanned her hand in front of her face. "Oh. It's you lot. What are you doing?" She approached the bowl on top of the oven and poked it tentatively.

Ianto smiled bravely. "Cooking. That's – that was – supposed to be lunch."

"Cooking?" She asked skeptically, then a knowing smile curled her lips. "You two? Cooking? And you just got married, too. What's next, children?"

It seemed to be a joke and she walked out of the kitchen right after it, not giving it much thought, but Jack looked at Ianto and saw the same silent horror hidden in his eyes at her simple words.

o.O.o

Several hours later Ianto nearly poisoned them all with whatever it was he called dinner – and what he had told Jack that he could do by himself without needing help and had served proudly afterwards – and had left poor Rory still trying to get rid of whatever of it had remained in his stomach, Jack had accidentally set fire to his and Ianto's bed while trying to tell the TARDIS to fix the heating, and they answered Amy's breezily thrown in question.

"No kids," Jack said decisively as he kept his shirt in front of his face as a shield as the smoke slowly started disappearing.

Ianto shook his head in panic. "No kids," he repeated. "Not now. Not ever."