Drabble: In Trouble
Title: In Trouble
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Jack, Owen.
Rating: G
Written For: Challenge 492: Fake at tw100.
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Owen probably should have told the truth…
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Double drabble.
“When Owen gets in, would you ask him to take a look at Smiley? He seems a bit down in the mouth and I want to be sure he’s not ailing,” Ianto said, setting Jack’s coffee in front of him, along with a plate of bacon butties for breakfast. The big-mouthed alien was a new arrival and Ianto was still trying to figure out what it needed to thrive.
Jack shook his head. “Sorry, you might have to figure out Smiley’s problem for yourself; Owen called in sick a little while ago.”
Ianto frowned, hands on hips. “Really? Well you can just call him right back and tell him to get his arse in here right away. He’s not sick, I saw him not twenty minutes ago queuing up outside the box office and he looked the picture of health to me.”
“The box office? You’re sure it was Owen?”
“Positive. Tickets for the computer game convention he’s been on about go on sale today. He’s probably been queuing all night; he’s right up near the front.”
Jack sat up straight. “The fake! And here I was feeling sorry for him!”
Ianto smirked. That would teach Owen not to lie.
The End
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Jack, Owen.
Rating: G
Written For: Challenge 492: Fake at tw100.
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Owen probably should have told the truth…
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Double drabble.
“When Owen gets in, would you ask him to take a look at Smiley? He seems a bit down in the mouth and I want to be sure he’s not ailing,” Ianto said, setting Jack’s coffee in front of him, along with a plate of bacon butties for breakfast. The big-mouthed alien was a new arrival and Ianto was still trying to figure out what it needed to thrive.
Jack shook his head. “Sorry, you might have to figure out Smiley’s problem for yourself; Owen called in sick a little while ago.”
Ianto frowned, hands on hips. “Really? Well you can just call him right back and tell him to get his arse in here right away. He’s not sick, I saw him not twenty minutes ago queuing up outside the box office and he looked the picture of health to me.”
“The box office? You’re sure it was Owen?”
“Positive. Tickets for the computer game convention he’s been on about go on sale today. He’s probably been queuing all night; he’s right up near the front.”
Jack sat up straight. “The fake! And here I was feeling sorry for him!”
Ianto smirked. That would teach Owen not to lie.
The End