Torchwood fic: Spruce Moose

[sharpest_rose]

So, Hope and I are still at the conference. The very serious work conference, featuring international humanitarians of great reputation and world-class speakers. Last night we had a very serious work dinner.

With free wine.

Oh dear.

Spruce MooseBy Mary and Hope though it's mostly Hope's fault, so all credit and blame goes in that direction

Comments

[narrelle]

--"Right. I'm going to assume there's a good reason for this," Ianto said, though really he was assuming that his mother hadn't known the half of it when she'd gotten teary after he came out, because she'd been worried it would mean he had a hard life.

I have a chest cold and a nasty cough, and this one line had me laughing so hard I a) sounded like Muttley laughing his doggy laugh for several minutes before b) darn near needing an oxygen tank to restore function.

I will henceforth approach all microwave ovens with DEEP CAUTION.

[black_samvara]

Perfect! ...and yet not. Deeply wrong. Let there be more serious dinners with free wine.

[irradiatedsoup]

Canon.

[immelmanturn]

Does the Cloister Bell ring when someone's in danger of forgetting to use lube?

[copracat]

You are both so wrong that words don't exist to describe the breadth of your wrongness, much less the depth and height. I will be having wrong microwave-related flashbacks for some time.