Fic: Escape Artists
Title: Escape Artists
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Jack, aliens.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1111
Spoilers: Nada. Set in the Nosy-Verse.
Summary: Jack and Ianto are having problems with a litter of baby alien animals.
Written For: Weekend Challenge Prompt: Children / Baby Animals at 1_million_words.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
“Life was a lot easier before they could get around by themselves,” Ianto commented, carefully extracting one of the alien creatures from where it was trying to sneak up inside his trouser leg.
“Reminds me of when the twins were starting to crawl.” Jack returned to the supposedly escape-proof pen they’d set up with one creature in each hand. “Turn your back for a second and they’re off again, getting into mischief.” He dumped his escapees back with the other five. “How are they getting out? Can they climb?”
“No idea; like Gareth and Jenna, they wait to make their move until we’re not looking, but at least with them we only had two to keep an eye on, and several willing helpers, so we weren’t doing all the work by ourselves. Now we have eight of whatever these are, and where’d the mother go?”
“She probably needed a break. Can you blame her?”
“No, but I don’t see why we have to be the babysitters.”
With some difficulty, trying to be careful because the little monsters looked so fragile, Ianto persuaded number eight to let go of his sock and put it back where it belonged. They were stronger than they appeared, five inches of fuzzy, six-legged, brown and tan striped tenacity with beady yellow eyes, stubby kitten tails, and twitchy shrew noses.
The mother had fallen through the Rift three weeks earlier, and five days later had produced a litter of eight tiny furballs. Worried that the cells were too cold for the little family, Jack, softy that he was, had immediately moved them up to the pen he’d had Ianto set up, where they’d be warm, and the team could keep an eye on them.
They were mammals of a sort, and the youngsters had grown quickly on a steady diet of mum’s milk. The mother herself, according to Owen’s scans, was an omnivore, greedily gulping down whatever she was offered, from tinned cat food to fresh vegetables, leftover pizza, and sausage rolls. She needed to eat a lot to keep up with the demands of her growing family.
What they were remained a mystery. Jack, despite being familiar with a wide variety of alien species, both animal and sentient, had never seen their like before. Ianto had searched the archives, especially the files they’d rescued from the ruins of Torchwood One, but hadn’t found anything resembling them. That was disappointing, but not entirely unexpected; there were so many inhabited planets in the universe, and Torchwood had only encountered a fraction of what existed out there. Tasked with giving the species a name, Ianto had thought long and hard before dubbing them Snozzles.
“We might have to put a lid on the pen to keep them from getting out,” Ianto said, doing a quick headcount to make sure all eight of the babies were present.
“We can’t do that! How would Doris get in and out?”
Ianto turned incredulous eyes on his husband. “Doris? You named her?”
“Can’t just keep calling her Mama Snozzle, it doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue.”
“Why do we have to call her anything?”
“Why shouldn’t we? She’s tame, and obviously housebroken, must have been somebody’s pet.”
“In which case, I’m sure she already has a name.”
“Which we don’t know.”
Hands on hips, Ianto scowled at Jack. “We’re not keeping them. We already have Fluffs.”
“Fluffs are family, not pets.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Jenna wants a kitten.”
“No, Jack, just no! She’s four, that’s way too young for pets. You know how rough she is on her stuffies, I’m always having to sew ears and tails back on. A living creature wouldn’t survive five minutes of being loved by her, and Gareth is nearly as bad.”
“The only thing Gareth wants for a pet is a giraffe, and I’ve told him we don’t have the space.”
“He takes after you.” Ianto recalled only too well the weird and wonderful creatures his husband wanted to keep as pets; the stegosaurus and Ozzie the ostrich came to mind. “The only reason the Flufflets are still in one piece is because they’re tough and resilient.”
“Just like us.”
Even after several years of tests, Owen had yet to discover anything that could cause a Fluff more than momentary discomfort; even a massive electric shock had only made Nosy’s fur stand on end for a few hours. Despite their overall fluffiness, Fluffs were practically indestructible, a useful trait for anything involved with Torchwood.
“No pets until the twins are at least seven, and even then, only if they’ve learned to be gentle. You wouldn’t want these little guys to get squished to death, would you?”
“Of course not!” Jack lunged to intercept an escapee, plucking it up before it could disappear down a hole. He gave it a stern talking-to before putting it back where it belonged. “They must be climbing!”
“No, I think they’re squeezing under the bottom.” Ianto was investigating, trying to solve the Great Escape problem before they lost all the babies. “There’s a small gap where the floor dips slightly. You keep watch while I find something to block it with.”
Ianto disappeared to rummage through the equipment lockers, returning five minutes later with a heavy metal toolbox to find Jack watching in fascination as a baby Snozzle squeezed its way through the gap.
“Looks like you were right,” he said, crouching to retrieve the little creature.
“This should stop them.” Ianto set the toolbox down against the side of the pen, effectively blocking the escape route. “As long as they don’t figure out how to climb.”
“The speed they’re growing, in a few days they’ll be too big to fit through the hole anyway.”
“Good, because that’s Mickey’s toolbox. When he gets back, I’ll have to warn him not to move it. Otherwise, we’ll have Snozzles all over the place, which would be bad, considering the way everyone blunders around here not looking where they’re going.”
Immediate crisis averted, Ianto headed for the kitchen to make coffee. He could only hope whoever owned Doris had some means of retrieving her and her offspring, because if they didn’t, he’d soon be faced with the problem of what to do with nine adult Snozzles, and how to prevent a potential population explosion once the youngsters reached breeding age. He could just see the look on Owen’s face if he was asked to neuter the tiny creatures. That, however, was a problem for another day. Right now, all he wanted was coffee and a few minutes rest. If the Snozzles got out again, someone else could deal with them.
The End
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Jack, aliens.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1111
Spoilers: Nada. Set in the Nosy-Verse.
Summary: Jack and Ianto are having problems with a litter of baby alien animals.
Written For: Weekend Challenge Prompt: Children / Baby Animals at 1_million_words.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
“Life was a lot easier before they could get around by themselves,” Ianto commented, carefully extracting one of the alien creatures from where it was trying to sneak up inside his trouser leg.
“Reminds me of when the twins were starting to crawl.” Jack returned to the supposedly escape-proof pen they’d set up with one creature in each hand. “Turn your back for a second and they’re off again, getting into mischief.” He dumped his escapees back with the other five. “How are they getting out? Can they climb?”
“No idea; like Gareth and Jenna, they wait to make their move until we’re not looking, but at least with them we only had two to keep an eye on, and several willing helpers, so we weren’t doing all the work by ourselves. Now we have eight of whatever these are, and where’d the mother go?”
“She probably needed a break. Can you blame her?”
“No, but I don’t see why we have to be the babysitters.”
With some difficulty, trying to be careful because the little monsters looked so fragile, Ianto persuaded number eight to let go of his sock and put it back where it belonged. They were stronger than they appeared, five inches of fuzzy, six-legged, brown and tan striped tenacity with beady yellow eyes, stubby kitten tails, and twitchy shrew noses.
The mother had fallen through the Rift three weeks earlier, and five days later had produced a litter of eight tiny furballs. Worried that the cells were too cold for the little family, Jack, softy that he was, had immediately moved them up to the pen he’d had Ianto set up, where they’d be warm, and the team could keep an eye on them.
They were mammals of a sort, and the youngsters had grown quickly on a steady diet of mum’s milk. The mother herself, according to Owen’s scans, was an omnivore, greedily gulping down whatever she was offered, from tinned cat food to fresh vegetables, leftover pizza, and sausage rolls. She needed to eat a lot to keep up with the demands of her growing family.
What they were remained a mystery. Jack, despite being familiar with a wide variety of alien species, both animal and sentient, had never seen their like before. Ianto had searched the archives, especially the files they’d rescued from the ruins of Torchwood One, but hadn’t found anything resembling them. That was disappointing, but not entirely unexpected; there were so many inhabited planets in the universe, and Torchwood had only encountered a fraction of what existed out there. Tasked with giving the species a name, Ianto had thought long and hard before dubbing them Snozzles.
“We might have to put a lid on the pen to keep them from getting out,” Ianto said, doing a quick headcount to make sure all eight of the babies were present.
“We can’t do that! How would Doris get in and out?”
Ianto turned incredulous eyes on his husband. “Doris? You named her?”
“Can’t just keep calling her Mama Snozzle, it doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue.”
“Why do we have to call her anything?”
“Why shouldn’t we? She’s tame, and obviously housebroken, must have been somebody’s pet.”
“In which case, I’m sure she already has a name.”
“Which we don’t know.”
Hands on hips, Ianto scowled at Jack. “We’re not keeping them. We already have Fluffs.”
“Fluffs are family, not pets.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Jenna wants a kitten.”
“No, Jack, just no! She’s four, that’s way too young for pets. You know how rough she is on her stuffies, I’m always having to sew ears and tails back on. A living creature wouldn’t survive five minutes of being loved by her, and Gareth is nearly as bad.”
“The only thing Gareth wants for a pet is a giraffe, and I’ve told him we don’t have the space.”
“He takes after you.” Ianto recalled only too well the weird and wonderful creatures his husband wanted to keep as pets; the stegosaurus and Ozzie the ostrich came to mind. “The only reason the Flufflets are still in one piece is because they’re tough and resilient.”
“Just like us.”
Even after several years of tests, Owen had yet to discover anything that could cause a Fluff more than momentary discomfort; even a massive electric shock had only made Nosy’s fur stand on end for a few hours. Despite their overall fluffiness, Fluffs were practically indestructible, a useful trait for anything involved with Torchwood.
“No pets until the twins are at least seven, and even then, only if they’ve learned to be gentle. You wouldn’t want these little guys to get squished to death, would you?”
“Of course not!” Jack lunged to intercept an escapee, plucking it up before it could disappear down a hole. He gave it a stern talking-to before putting it back where it belonged. “They must be climbing!”
“No, I think they’re squeezing under the bottom.” Ianto was investigating, trying to solve the Great Escape problem before they lost all the babies. “There’s a small gap where the floor dips slightly. You keep watch while I find something to block it with.”
Ianto disappeared to rummage through the equipment lockers, returning five minutes later with a heavy metal toolbox to find Jack watching in fascination as a baby Snozzle squeezed its way through the gap.
“Looks like you were right,” he said, crouching to retrieve the little creature.
“This should stop them.” Ianto set the toolbox down against the side of the pen, effectively blocking the escape route. “As long as they don’t figure out how to climb.”
“The speed they’re growing, in a few days they’ll be too big to fit through the hole anyway.”
“Good, because that’s Mickey’s toolbox. When he gets back, I’ll have to warn him not to move it. Otherwise, we’ll have Snozzles all over the place, which would be bad, considering the way everyone blunders around here not looking where they’re going.”
Immediate crisis averted, Ianto headed for the kitchen to make coffee. He could only hope whoever owned Doris had some means of retrieving her and her offspring, because if they didn’t, he’d soon be faced with the problem of what to do with nine adult Snozzles, and how to prevent a potential population explosion once the youngsters reached breeding age. He could just see the look on Owen’s face if he was asked to neuter the tiny creatures. That, however, was a problem for another day. Right now, all he wanted was coffee and a few minutes rest. If the Snozzles got out again, someone else could deal with them.
The End