Double Drabble: Being Supportive
Title: Being Supportive
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Tosh.
Rating: G
Written For: Challenge 681: Ache at tw100.
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Tosh is suffering from too much time staring at her computers.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Double drabble.
Ianto expected to see Owen slumped over his desk, suffering the after-effects of a night on the town; that was business as usual. He came to work hungover at least once a week. Tosh was a different matter, but there she was, computer keyboards shoved aside, and her head pillowed on her arms.
“Hey,” he said quietly. “Headache?”
“Got one already, thanks,” Tosh mumbled. She’d been staring at her computers most of the day, going through thousands of lines of code, looking for whatever might be preventing her Rift prediction programme from working properly. Now her eyes were burning, her head was pounding, her shoulders throbbed dully because of how tensely she’d been holding herself, and she still hadn’t found the elusive error.
“Do you want me to get you some painkillers?”
Tosh’s head rocked slightly from side to side. “I already took a couple, just waiting for them to work.”
“How about a shoulder rub then?”
“That would be lovely. If you’re not too busy.”
“I’m general support. The way I see it, giving shoulder rubs counts as being supportive. If Jack wants to complain about his coffee being late, he’s welcome to. Right now, your needs are greater.”
The End
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Tosh.
Rating: G
Written For: Challenge 681: Ache at tw100.
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Tosh is suffering from too much time staring at her computers.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Double drabble.
Ianto expected to see Owen slumped over his desk, suffering the after-effects of a night on the town; that was business as usual. He came to work hungover at least once a week. Tosh was a different matter, but there she was, computer keyboards shoved aside, and her head pillowed on her arms.
“Hey,” he said quietly. “Headache?”
“Got one already, thanks,” Tosh mumbled. She’d been staring at her computers most of the day, going through thousands of lines of code, looking for whatever might be preventing her Rift prediction programme from working properly. Now her eyes were burning, her head was pounding, her shoulders throbbed dully because of how tensely she’d been holding herself, and she still hadn’t found the elusive error.
“Do you want me to get you some painkillers?”
Tosh’s head rocked slightly from side to side. “I already took a couple, just waiting for them to work.”
“How about a shoulder rub then?”
“That would be lovely. If you’re not too busy.”
“I’m general support. The way I see it, giving shoulder rubs counts as being supportive. If Jack wants to complain about his coffee being late, he’s welcome to. Right now, your needs are greater.”
The End