TORCHWOOD: A Way With Words
Title: A Way With Words
Characters/Pairing: Jack, Owen, Ianto, Gwen and Tosh
Word Count: 265
Rating: PG
Summary: Working for Torchwood, you learn a lot of things you'd really rather not know. Owen does not help with this.
Notes: Written for the alphabet meme for dreamsofstar's request, "Jack and Owen, toast". This was half-written to distract myself from the sketch I am writing for other requests. It worked rather well, to tell the truth.
Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood or any of its characters. That is all.
The Torchwood team had all gotten uncomfortably familiar with the smell of blood. Rotting flesh. Burnt flesh. A couple other scents that involved flesh in a state you generally preferred it not to be in.
Today, the body on the autopsy table was definitely burnt. Everyone but Owen stood in the gallery, overlooking the table - no one wanted to get any closer to that smell than they had to. Gwen held a handkerchief over her nose, apparently in an attempt to block the smell, Tosh kept wrinkling her nose periodically while attempting to maintain composure, and Jack and Ianto just studied the body fro a distance with matching expressions of distaste. Owen seemed to have become inured to it.
"Alright, Owen," Jack said at last. "We're all waiting with bated breath for your brilliant explanation."
"Mostly because we prefer not to breathe at all right now," Ianto added. Jack allowed himself a bit of a smirk.
"Alright," Owen said, looking up to the team lined along the railing above. "Best guess is that our newest visitor from the Rift has a sort of... defense mechanism. It gets agitated, and flash-heats the air around it. Anyone caught near by gets charred on the outside, but the heat dissipates quickly enough that the insides are more or less untouched. Kind of like a toaster oven, but with aliens."
Gwen looked vaguely nauseated - more than she had been already. Jack couldn't blame her. "You know, Owen, you've got a real knack for description."
Owen raised an eyebrow at him, but answered, "Well, I try."
"Stop it."
Characters/Pairing: Jack, Owen, Ianto, Gwen and Tosh
Word Count: 265
Rating: PG
Summary: Working for Torchwood, you learn a lot of things you'd really rather not know. Owen does not help with this.
Notes: Written for the alphabet meme for dreamsofstar's request, "Jack and Owen, toast". This was half-written to distract myself from the sketch I am writing for other requests. It worked rather well, to tell the truth.
Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood or any of its characters. That is all.
The Torchwood team had all gotten uncomfortably familiar with the smell of blood. Rotting flesh. Burnt flesh. A couple other scents that involved flesh in a state you generally preferred it not to be in.
Today, the body on the autopsy table was definitely burnt. Everyone but Owen stood in the gallery, overlooking the table - no one wanted to get any closer to that smell than they had to. Gwen held a handkerchief over her nose, apparently in an attempt to block the smell, Tosh kept wrinkling her nose periodically while attempting to maintain composure, and Jack and Ianto just studied the body fro a distance with matching expressions of distaste. Owen seemed to have become inured to it.
"Alright, Owen," Jack said at last. "We're all waiting with bated breath for your brilliant explanation."
"Mostly because we prefer not to breathe at all right now," Ianto added. Jack allowed himself a bit of a smirk.
"Alright," Owen said, looking up to the team lined along the railing above. "Best guess is that our newest visitor from the Rift has a sort of... defense mechanism. It gets agitated, and flash-heats the air around it. Anyone caught near by gets charred on the outside, but the heat dissipates quickly enough that the insides are more or less untouched. Kind of like a toaster oven, but with aliens."
Gwen looked vaguely nauseated - more than she had been already. Jack couldn't blame her. "You know, Owen, you've got a real knack for description."
Owen raised an eyebrow at him, but answered, "Well, I try."
"Stop it."