WiP ficlet dump: TW, 970 words, teamfic, PG-13
This was originally going to be Tosh's installment of the Alcohol Annals but it was. Um. Listen, I often use mind-altering substances in fic to give myself a cushion for potential OOC, but this was just too far and thus got scrapped. So, ya know, proceed at your own risk. :/
Takes place between S1 and S2, when Gwen is in charge.
"Bet you 20 quid she's drunk," said Owen.
Gwen rolled her eyes. "Don't be ridiculous," she said. "Tosh isn't drunk." She glanced over at Toshiko's station, where the computer was buzzing along like it normally did and Tosh was clacking away at the keys, grinning maniacally. "Don't be ridiculous," Gwen said again, somewhat uncertainly. "Tosh would never-did you finish that report for me?" She turned her treacle eyes on Owen-a sort of syrupy tractor beam-and crossed her arms.
Owen tilted back in his chair until it squeaked. "It must've slipped my mind, Boss." The sarcasm on the last word was lilting but no less effective.
Gwen glared at him for a moment, breath huffing loudly. "I'm not doing this for a whim, Owen. All incident reports need to be completed within three days. You know that."
"So what are you going to do if I don't follow regulations?" Owen asked. "Fire me?"
"Anytime you want to take a turn at being in charge, be my guest," Gwen snapped then walked off.
"No thanks!" Owen called after her. "I don't want to deal with all the troublesome employees!"
"You're a real prick, you are!" Gwen shouted back as she disappeared around a corner into the lower levels.
Tosh looked up, wide eyes skittering from Owen to where Gwen had been.
"Don't worry about it, Tosh," drawled Owen. "Just business as usual."
"Maybe you two should go back to sleeping together," Tosh chirped.
Owen blinked, then laughed despite himself. "You really should get pissed more often," he said. "You're loads more fun."
"You just think that because whenever you get drunk, you become a pathetic adolescent," Tosh said, keyboard clacking away. "Well, maybe 'become' isn't the right word for it."
Owen popped up from his chair. "You've got to tell me what you're on," he said, sauntering over there. "It must be some damn good liquor."
"I haven't had any liquor," Tosh said. "I've almost finished my modifications to the fire-fighting system, look," she said. She pointed a the corner of her monitor, which showed the CCTV of the tourist office where Ianto was typing something up. "I've set individual comtrols for the water sprinklers and integrated them with the air control vents so I can remotely target a fire without damaging any surrounding equipment. Like so," she said, and tapped some keys.
On the CCTV footage, Owen watched as Ianto was propelled away from the computer by a sudden burst of air, then drenched in a concentrated stream of water. As he lay gasping in the aftermath, a few glops of flame-retardant foam drifted down onto his belly.
Tosh giggled.
Owen gaped. "Are you sure you haven't had anything to drink today? What about drugs, are you on drugs?"
"No," said Tosh, carefully copying the past few minutes of CCTV footage to her hard drive. "Do you think I should upload this to YouTube?" she asked. "I haven't had time to drink. I've been too busy installing controls in the air ventilation shafts."
Owen sighed. "I'm guessing you had to go into the shafts to do that, am I right?" He speed-dialed Gwen on his mobile. When she picked he said, "Turns out I was on the right track, just a little wrong in the responsible substance. Let's just say you owe me fifteen quid."
"What on Earth are you talking about, Owen?" Gwen asked wearily.
"You better get up here," said Owen. "And bring a toxicology kit."
"Shit!" said Gwen, and hung up.
Tosh was wriggling in her seat as she watched Ianto on the CCTV, heading down to the Hub. "I've got another sprinkler set up at the end of the corridor," she said. "I wonder if I can time it right to get him when he walks under it."
"It breaks my heart that this won't last," said Owen.
_____
"I'm really glad you're not mad at me," Tosh said, swinging her feet from the autopsy table.
Ianto, wearing bleach-stained jeans and one of Jack's shirts (a little big around the waist) smiled wanly. "You're under the influence," he said. "You can't be held accountable for your actions."
Tosh smiled like she was wearing the prettiest hair bow on the playground.
"You notice she hasn't apologized," said Owen.
"I had noticed, actually," muttered Ianto, and turned away to scrub his head with the towel some more.
Gwen was biting her lip, hovering in the zone of maximum inconvenience between the autopsy table and the counter with the toxicology kit. "I don't understand how this happened," she said. "Don't the ventilation shafts keep the air clean?"
"Supposed to," said Owen. "But if parts of the system are offline due to repairs, who knows what toxins it could drudge up from the lower levels."
Tosh reached out to pet Ianto's elbow when he wandered into range. "I would've soaked Owen, but I was afraid his bitching would be too annoying," she said.
"That's reasonable," said Ianto. "Although I'm sure you could figure out a way to prevent that. Something in the water to temporarily silence him, perhaps?"
Tosh gave Owen a calculating look. "That just might work," she said.
"Oi!" yelled Owen.
"No more pranks," said Gwen. "We're supposed to be a team."
"My apologies," said Ianto, with a nod that was almost believable.
"Jack would've thought it was funny," Tosh whispered loudly.
Gwen threw up her hands and walked away.
"He would!" Tosh called defensively. "Ow!" She glared accusingly at Owen, who had just stabbed her with a syringe.
"Sorry," said Owen. "I probably should have warned you about that. I need to draw some blood."
"That's alright," said Tosh. She leaned in close and said, "We should play Doctor more often."
Owen raised his eyes to the heavens. "Please, God," he pleaded, "Let it be permanent."
Takes place between S1 and S2, when Gwen is in charge.
"Bet you 20 quid she's drunk," said Owen.
Gwen rolled her eyes. "Don't be ridiculous," she said. "Tosh isn't drunk." She glanced over at Toshiko's station, where the computer was buzzing along like it normally did and Tosh was clacking away at the keys, grinning maniacally. "Don't be ridiculous," Gwen said again, somewhat uncertainly. "Tosh would never-did you finish that report for me?" She turned her treacle eyes on Owen-a sort of syrupy tractor beam-and crossed her arms.
Owen tilted back in his chair until it squeaked. "It must've slipped my mind, Boss." The sarcasm on the last word was lilting but no less effective.
Gwen glared at him for a moment, breath huffing loudly. "I'm not doing this for a whim, Owen. All incident reports need to be completed within three days. You know that."
"So what are you going to do if I don't follow regulations?" Owen asked. "Fire me?"
"Anytime you want to take a turn at being in charge, be my guest," Gwen snapped then walked off.
"No thanks!" Owen called after her. "I don't want to deal with all the troublesome employees!"
"You're a real prick, you are!" Gwen shouted back as she disappeared around a corner into the lower levels.
Tosh looked up, wide eyes skittering from Owen to where Gwen had been.
"Don't worry about it, Tosh," drawled Owen. "Just business as usual."
"Maybe you two should go back to sleeping together," Tosh chirped.
Owen blinked, then laughed despite himself. "You really should get pissed more often," he said. "You're loads more fun."
"You just think that because whenever you get drunk, you become a pathetic adolescent," Tosh said, keyboard clacking away. "Well, maybe 'become' isn't the right word for it."
Owen popped up from his chair. "You've got to tell me what you're on," he said, sauntering over there. "It must be some damn good liquor."
"I haven't had any liquor," Tosh said. "I've almost finished my modifications to the fire-fighting system, look," she said. She pointed a the corner of her monitor, which showed the CCTV of the tourist office where Ianto was typing something up. "I've set individual comtrols for the water sprinklers and integrated them with the air control vents so I can remotely target a fire without damaging any surrounding equipment. Like so," she said, and tapped some keys.
On the CCTV footage, Owen watched as Ianto was propelled away from the computer by a sudden burst of air, then drenched in a concentrated stream of water. As he lay gasping in the aftermath, a few glops of flame-retardant foam drifted down onto his belly.
Tosh giggled.
Owen gaped. "Are you sure you haven't had anything to drink today? What about drugs, are you on drugs?"
"No," said Tosh, carefully copying the past few minutes of CCTV footage to her hard drive. "Do you think I should upload this to YouTube?" she asked. "I haven't had time to drink. I've been too busy installing controls in the air ventilation shafts."
Owen sighed. "I'm guessing you had to go into the shafts to do that, am I right?" He speed-dialed Gwen on his mobile. When she picked he said, "Turns out I was on the right track, just a little wrong in the responsible substance. Let's just say you owe me fifteen quid."
"What on Earth are you talking about, Owen?" Gwen asked wearily.
"You better get up here," said Owen. "And bring a toxicology kit."
"Shit!" said Gwen, and hung up.
Tosh was wriggling in her seat as she watched Ianto on the CCTV, heading down to the Hub. "I've got another sprinkler set up at the end of the corridor," she said. "I wonder if I can time it right to get him when he walks under it."
"It breaks my heart that this won't last," said Owen.
_____
"I'm really glad you're not mad at me," Tosh said, swinging her feet from the autopsy table.
Ianto, wearing bleach-stained jeans and one of Jack's shirts (a little big around the waist) smiled wanly. "You're under the influence," he said. "You can't be held accountable for your actions."
Tosh smiled like she was wearing the prettiest hair bow on the playground.
"You notice she hasn't apologized," said Owen.
"I had noticed, actually," muttered Ianto, and turned away to scrub his head with the towel some more.
Gwen was biting her lip, hovering in the zone of maximum inconvenience between the autopsy table and the counter with the toxicology kit. "I don't understand how this happened," she said. "Don't the ventilation shafts keep the air clean?"
"Supposed to," said Owen. "But if parts of the system are offline due to repairs, who knows what toxins it could drudge up from the lower levels."
Tosh reached out to pet Ianto's elbow when he wandered into range. "I would've soaked Owen, but I was afraid his bitching would be too annoying," she said.
"That's reasonable," said Ianto. "Although I'm sure you could figure out a way to prevent that. Something in the water to temporarily silence him, perhaps?"
Tosh gave Owen a calculating look. "That just might work," she said.
"Oi!" yelled Owen.
"No more pranks," said Gwen. "We're supposed to be a team."
"My apologies," said Ianto, with a nod that was almost believable.
"Jack would've thought it was funny," Tosh whispered loudly.
Gwen threw up her hands and walked away.
"He would!" Tosh called defensively. "Ow!" She glared accusingly at Owen, who had just stabbed her with a syringe.
"Sorry," said Owen. "I probably should have warned you about that. I need to draw some blood."
"That's alright," said Tosh. She leaned in close and said, "We should play Doctor more often."
Owen raised his eyes to the heavens. "Please, God," he pleaded, "Let it be permanent."