Double Drabble: Last Resort
Title: Last Resort
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Team.
Rating: PG
Written For: Challenge 738: Spare at tw100.
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Sometimes the team has to make do with what’s available.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Double drabble.
Everyone working at Torchwood Three for more than a week quickly came to understand why it was important to keep at least two changes of clothes in their locker at all times. Fieldwork could be messy in many ways, from the usual trifecta of rain, mud, and blood, to all kinds of disgusting substances, including but not limited to slime, goo, gunk, sludge, gloop, ooze, and gunge.
Being prepared for all eventualities was key, but sometimes even a well-stocked locker wasn’t enough. Forty-eight hours of non-stop Rift activity that had the team trudging through muddy fields, stinking sewers, and tidal pools, had left everyone dressed in the last wearable items they had available. That was before the injured alien they brought back to the Hub expired as it was being carried to the medical bay and unhelpfully exploded over everyone.
Cleaning up the remains as best they could, everyone trooped down to the showers, stripped off, threw their clothes into an empty cubicle to wash the worst off, then realised they had nothing to wear.
Sighing, Ianto wrapped a towel around himself. “I’ll see if I can find some spare Weevil coveralls. They’re not glamorous, but it’s better than nothing.”
The End
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Team.
Rating: PG
Written For: Challenge 738: Spare at tw100.
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Sometimes the team has to make do with what’s available.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Double drabble.
Everyone working at Torchwood Three for more than a week quickly came to understand why it was important to keep at least two changes of clothes in their locker at all times. Fieldwork could be messy in many ways, from the usual trifecta of rain, mud, and blood, to all kinds of disgusting substances, including but not limited to slime, goo, gunk, sludge, gloop, ooze, and gunge.
Being prepared for all eventualities was key, but sometimes even a well-stocked locker wasn’t enough. Forty-eight hours of non-stop Rift activity that had the team trudging through muddy fields, stinking sewers, and tidal pools, had left everyone dressed in the last wearable items they had available. That was before the injured alien they brought back to the Hub expired as it was being carried to the medical bay and unhelpfully exploded over everyone.
Cleaning up the remains as best they could, everyone trooped down to the showers, stripped off, threw their clothes into an empty cubicle to wash the worst off, then realised they had nothing to wear.
Sighing, Ianto wrapped a towel around himself. “I’ll see if I can find some spare Weevil coveralls. They’re not glamorous, but it’s better than nothing.”
The End