Red Is My Colour Prompt for Day Thirteen (Part Three) - corrected
Ms. Bristow turned to him as Mr. Vaughn crossed to the fallen right wardrobe, tugged out its bar, and helped Dr. Charles out. “So. Leslie. You have five minutes to convince us not to use one of these on you. Start talking.”
***
In the end, they decided to leave him there. Leslie, or Santa, or X’Fibrililoo was banished from roaming and restricted to a two-square kilometer area of Wales, Earth. For the first fifteen years of his punishment, Leslie had gone insane every day. Then, well, who says Stockholm Syndrome doesn’t work on aliens? Leslie decided he liked it there. If he strayed outside his designated area, he would literally explode, which gave him quite a lot of incentive to like his surroundings. The Xenthorian assassin was an overzealous sort who thought that killing Leslie would increase his standing in the fleet. Unfortunately for the four dead earthlings, he was also a bit of an idiot.
“A fucking wanker,” Owen, who was also Mr. Charles, agreed, nodding.
“Alright, Leslie. You’re going to have to register with us now, so we can keep an eye on you,” Suzie, who was also Dr. Charles, said. “How did you keep this place open, with the murders going on, by the way?” she asked curiously.
“Swansea Winter Cottages are the best in the business, mum! A little murder isn’t going to interrupt tourist season!”
Suzie shook her head, bemused.
“Alright, gang, our work here is finished,” Jack decreed from his place stretched out on the floor. “Ianto, help me up.” Jack took the opportunity to drape himself around Ianto’s frame as they shuffled to the stairs.
Suzie frowned after them. “Why does Jack need helping?”
“He has no strength.” Tosh smiled to herself. “The violet Xenthorian was quite a bit stronger than our Leslie.”
Torchwood trooped outside and surveyed their two vehicles. “So . . .” Owen began, eyeing Tosh’s legs. “Tosh? You want a turn driving the SUV?”
Tosh looked at him, surprised. “Jack - ”
“I’m not driving anywhere just yet,” Jack interrupted. “You should take that behemoth, Tosh.”
Suzie had already clambered into the backseat, still sore from the falling wardrobe. Owen hopped into the passenger seat and Tosh got behind the wheel.
“Hey, Tosh!” Jack yelled, propping himself on Ianto’s car. “You look super sexy in that pencil skirt! Mwroar!”
Tosh blushed, but she was grinning as she drove away.
Ianto cut his eyes over at Jack.
“What? You look super sexy in your pinstripes, too,” Jack told him earnestly.
“Careful, Sir. That’s harassment.”
“Is it?”
Ianto just looked at him for a minute, before looking away. “Come on, Sir, it’s time to get back.”
He got into the car and fastened his seat belt, Jack doing the same, only slower. Finally they were both settled and Ianto turned the key in the ignition. Before he backed out, though, he turned to Jack, dipping a hand into his inner jacket pocket. “70% cacao with whole hazelnuts. Would you like a piece?”
Jack grinned. “I would indeed.”
***
In the end, they decided to leave him there. Leslie, or Santa, or X’Fibrililoo was banished from roaming and restricted to a two-square kilometer area of Wales, Earth. For the first fifteen years of his punishment, Leslie had gone insane every day. Then, well, who says Stockholm Syndrome doesn’t work on aliens? Leslie decided he liked it there. If he strayed outside his designated area, he would literally explode, which gave him quite a lot of incentive to like his surroundings. The Xenthorian assassin was an overzealous sort who thought that killing Leslie would increase his standing in the fleet. Unfortunately for the four dead earthlings, he was also a bit of an idiot.
“A fucking wanker,” Owen, who was also Mr. Charles, agreed, nodding.
“Alright, Leslie. You’re going to have to register with us now, so we can keep an eye on you,” Suzie, who was also Dr. Charles, said. “How did you keep this place open, with the murders going on, by the way?” she asked curiously.
“Swansea Winter Cottages are the best in the business, mum! A little murder isn’t going to interrupt tourist season!”
Suzie shook her head, bemused.
“Alright, gang, our work here is finished,” Jack decreed from his place stretched out on the floor. “Ianto, help me up.” Jack took the opportunity to drape himself around Ianto’s frame as they shuffled to the stairs.
Suzie frowned after them. “Why does Jack need helping?”
“He has no strength.” Tosh smiled to herself. “The violet Xenthorian was quite a bit stronger than our Leslie.”
Torchwood trooped outside and surveyed their two vehicles. “So . . .” Owen began, eyeing Tosh’s legs. “Tosh? You want a turn driving the SUV?”
Tosh looked at him, surprised. “Jack - ”
“I’m not driving anywhere just yet,” Jack interrupted. “You should take that behemoth, Tosh.”
Suzie had already clambered into the backseat, still sore from the falling wardrobe. Owen hopped into the passenger seat and Tosh got behind the wheel.
“Hey, Tosh!” Jack yelled, propping himself on Ianto’s car. “You look super sexy in that pencil skirt! Mwroar!”
Tosh blushed, but she was grinning as she drove away.
Ianto cut his eyes over at Jack.
“What? You look super sexy in your pinstripes, too,” Jack told him earnestly.
“Careful, Sir. That’s harassment.”
“Is it?”
Ianto just looked at him for a minute, before looking away. “Come on, Sir, it’s time to get back.”
He got into the car and fastened his seat belt, Jack doing the same, only slower. Finally they were both settled and Ianto turned the key in the ignition. Before he backed out, though, he turned to Jack, dipping a hand into his inner jacket pocket. “70% cacao with whole hazelnuts. Would you like a piece?”
Jack grinned. “I would indeed.”