Random Torchwood ficlet!
Ok, so I opened my TW fic folder to re-read the Mysterious Sexless NC-17 Jack/Tosh/Ianto fic (I'm still hoping I can write the 700 or wods needed for the middle and post it, you know, two years later) and found this WiP ficlet. I know I posted the first section but I don't think I posted the much longer second section.
SO HERE IT IS.
What is the premise of this fic? Why, the tried-and-true fandom trope wherein "Character X turns into a cat."
Shut up I'm not predictable. >>
Torchwood fic: 578 words, PG, Team T3
"Everyone, it's going to be ok," Jack said, his hands splayed out soothingly. "This has happened before."
Gwen's eyes and mouth got really big. "Are you serious?" she said.
"When?" Tosh demanded. "How did you fix it?"
"I'm finding this all pretty hilarious myself," drawled Owen.
Ianto glared and thrashed his tail.
--
Some minutes later, Tosh finally reached the end of her patience and took the small blue cube away from Jack.. "I don't care if you say we don't need it," she snapped. "I need to scan it, and you shouldn't be playing catch with it. What if you drop it and it breaks?"
Ianto meowed indignantly in agreement, then froze. He looked bewildered at the sound he had just produced. "Mrow?" he added tentatively.
"Maybe you still have a Welsh accent," Jack said, eyebrows leaping halfway up his forehead in excitement. "Have you ever heard a cat with a Welsh accent?" he asked Tosh. Tosh's eyes were very round and hard, and Jack thought she might pull them from her sockets like marbles and chuck them at his head, which would hurt. He turned back to Ianto. "That's not a bad accomplishment, you know, being the first known cat to have a Welsh accent."
Ianto narrowed his eyes and turned his back on Jack. Tried to turn his back, rather; he rose up on his hind legs, wobbled, and thumped back down on the autopsy table.
"...you've got four legs there, Ianto," Jack said helpfully.
"Unfortunately," Owen called out as he came down the steps, pulling on his lab coat, "that also means he's got two left feet." He sounded very pleased at his own joke, with the little smirk to prove it.
Ianto, splayed out, growled low in his throat.
"Aw, is the poor ickle kitty upset?" Owen said.
Tosh gave Owen a half-hearted glare. "This can't be very fun for him," she said. "What if you were suddenly turned into a rat or something? You wouldn't like that very much, would you?"
"Of course not," said Owen. "But then, I wouldn't have a skilled and charming doctor there to help me out. Now, I'm not a veterinarian," he said, snapping on some latex gloves, "but I did dissect a lot of cats in med school."
"OWEN!" Gwen shrieked Owen's name at the same time as Tosh did as she came clattering down the stairs. Some of the clatter might have been important bits of technology that fell out of her arms on the way, but mostly the clatter was caused by righteous indignation. Jack still didn't know how Gwen managed to do that.
"No-one's getting dissected," Jack said, slipping behind Gwen (being mindful of the elbows) to collect the stuff she'd dropped. "We have all of this fancy bio-scanning equipment that works from the outside."
Owen sighed and put down his scalpels. "I was going to string them along for a little bit longer, Jack," he said in disappointment. "Now you've ruined all my fun."
"It's not supposed to be fun!" Gwen yelled.
"I could think of a few things-" started Jack, but was very rudely interrupted by four distinctive shouts: Owen was thoroughly disgusted, Tosh was appalled, Gwen was really going to town with her indignation and Ianto seemed to have discovered how to yowl. He was a quick study. "Just a joke," Jack added feebly and decided not to make a quip about thermometers. With age comes wisdom and all that.
SO HERE IT IS.
What is the premise of this fic? Why, the tried-and-true fandom trope wherein "Character X turns into a cat."
Shut up I'm not predictable. >>
Torchwood fic: 578 words, PG, Team T3
"Everyone, it's going to be ok," Jack said, his hands splayed out soothingly. "This has happened before."
Gwen's eyes and mouth got really big. "Are you serious?" she said.
"When?" Tosh demanded. "How did you fix it?"
"I'm finding this all pretty hilarious myself," drawled Owen.
Ianto glared and thrashed his tail.
--
Some minutes later, Tosh finally reached the end of her patience and took the small blue cube away from Jack.. "I don't care if you say we don't need it," she snapped. "I need to scan it, and you shouldn't be playing catch with it. What if you drop it and it breaks?"
Ianto meowed indignantly in agreement, then froze. He looked bewildered at the sound he had just produced. "Mrow?" he added tentatively.
"Maybe you still have a Welsh accent," Jack said, eyebrows leaping halfway up his forehead in excitement. "Have you ever heard a cat with a Welsh accent?" he asked Tosh. Tosh's eyes were very round and hard, and Jack thought she might pull them from her sockets like marbles and chuck them at his head, which would hurt. He turned back to Ianto. "That's not a bad accomplishment, you know, being the first known cat to have a Welsh accent."
Ianto narrowed his eyes and turned his back on Jack. Tried to turn his back, rather; he rose up on his hind legs, wobbled, and thumped back down on the autopsy table.
"...you've got four legs there, Ianto," Jack said helpfully.
"Unfortunately," Owen called out as he came down the steps, pulling on his lab coat, "that also means he's got two left feet." He sounded very pleased at his own joke, with the little smirk to prove it.
Ianto, splayed out, growled low in his throat.
"Aw, is the poor ickle kitty upset?" Owen said.
Tosh gave Owen a half-hearted glare. "This can't be very fun for him," she said. "What if you were suddenly turned into a rat or something? You wouldn't like that very much, would you?"
"Of course not," said Owen. "But then, I wouldn't have a skilled and charming doctor there to help me out. Now, I'm not a veterinarian," he said, snapping on some latex gloves, "but I did dissect a lot of cats in med school."
"OWEN!" Gwen shrieked Owen's name at the same time as Tosh did as she came clattering down the stairs. Some of the clatter might have been important bits of technology that fell out of her arms on the way, but mostly the clatter was caused by righteous indignation. Jack still didn't know how Gwen managed to do that.
"No-one's getting dissected," Jack said, slipping behind Gwen (being mindful of the elbows) to collect the stuff she'd dropped. "We have all of this fancy bio-scanning equipment that works from the outside."
Owen sighed and put down his scalpels. "I was going to string them along for a little bit longer, Jack," he said in disappointment. "Now you've ruined all my fun."
"It's not supposed to be fun!" Gwen yelled.
"I could think of a few things-" started Jack, but was very rudely interrupted by four distinctive shouts: Owen was thoroughly disgusted, Tosh was appalled, Gwen was really going to town with her indignation and Ianto seemed to have discovered how to yowl. He was a quick study. "Just a joke," Jack added feebly and decided not to make a quip about thermometers. With age comes wisdom and all that.