Double Drabble: Exaggeration
Title: Exaggeration
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Owen, Ianto, Myfanwy.
Rating: PG
Written For: Challenge 731: Nip / Nippy at tw100.
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Owen prides himself on his medical skills but his current patient is less than impressed.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Double drabble.
“It bit me!” Owen yelped, clutching his arm and whirling to glare at Ianto. “Your bald chicken bloody well bit me!”
Ianto rolled his eyes. “Don’t act like such a wimp, Owen; that wasn’t a bite, it was just a little nip to let you know she didn’t like what you were doing. If she’d bitten you, there’d be blood, and you’d most likely be missing a few fingers.” That was an exaggeration, Myfanwy had never bitten anyone’s fingers off, but Owen didn’t need to know that.
“She’s not gettin’ MY fingers!” Owen thrust both hands behind his back. “I’m a surgeon, I need them!”
“If you want to prove you’re a surgeon, don’t just stand there talking about it, get on with treating your patient.”
“What if it bites me again? It might have my whole arm off next time!”
“If you want to avoid getting nipped, stop tickling her. She doesn’t like it.”
“How am I supposed to clean the wound then?” Myf had cut herself on a branch during the previous night’s storm.
“Just do it, and stop trying to be gentle. She’s tough, you won’t hurt her.”
“I’m more worried about her hurting me,” Owen grumbled.
The End
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Owen, Ianto, Myfanwy.
Rating: PG
Written For: Challenge 731: Nip / Nippy at tw100.
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Owen prides himself on his medical skills but his current patient is less than impressed.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Double drabble.
“It bit me!” Owen yelped, clutching his arm and whirling to glare at Ianto. “Your bald chicken bloody well bit me!”
Ianto rolled his eyes. “Don’t act like such a wimp, Owen; that wasn’t a bite, it was just a little nip to let you know she didn’t like what you were doing. If she’d bitten you, there’d be blood, and you’d most likely be missing a few fingers.” That was an exaggeration, Myfanwy had never bitten anyone’s fingers off, but Owen didn’t need to know that.
“She’s not gettin’ MY fingers!” Owen thrust both hands behind his back. “I’m a surgeon, I need them!”
“If you want to prove you’re a surgeon, don’t just stand there talking about it, get on with treating your patient.”
“What if it bites me again? It might have my whole arm off next time!”
“If you want to avoid getting nipped, stop tickling her. She doesn’t like it.”
“How am I supposed to clean the wound then?” Myf had cut herself on a branch during the previous night’s storm.
“Just do it, and stop trying to be gentle. She’s tough, you won’t hurt her.”
“I’m more worried about her hurting me,” Owen grumbled.
The End