Double Drabble: Unforeseen Danger
Title: Unforeseen Danger
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Owen, Jack, Ianto.
Rating: PG
Written For: Challenge 589: Graze at tw100.
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Injuries can occur at the most unexpected moments.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Double drabble.
Working for Torchwood was dangerous; injuries occurred almost every week. Occasionally they would be serious; gunshot wounds, laser burns, stabbings, broken bones, head trauma resulting in concussion, and in Jack’s case, death. Most of the time though, the damage was relatively minor.
Strains and sprains were common; it was easy to twist an ankle or wrench a shoulder while capturing a Weevil. Bruises, cuts, and scrapes, bites of the insect or small animal variety, splinters, and allergic reactions to various kinds of alien goo were also par for the course. Owen had a whole host of specially prepared salves to treat just about any kind of rash that could afflict his teammates. Grumpy sod he might be, but he was a good doctor and he took his responsibilities seriously.
Aside from carrying out alien autopsies however, his services hadn’t been in demand for several weeks.
Until today.
“What the fuck did you do to ‘im?” Owen asked, glaring at Jack.
“Nothing! This isn’t my fault, I swear!”
“I don’t know why everyone’s making a fuss,” Ianto grumbled. “It’s just a graze.”
“What happened?”
Ianto blushed. “I hit my head getting into my new car. It’s lower than I’m used to.”
The End
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Owen, Jack, Ianto.
Rating: PG
Written For: Challenge 589: Graze at tw100.
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Injuries can occur at the most unexpected moments.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Double drabble.
Working for Torchwood was dangerous; injuries occurred almost every week. Occasionally they would be serious; gunshot wounds, laser burns, stabbings, broken bones, head trauma resulting in concussion, and in Jack’s case, death. Most of the time though, the damage was relatively minor.
Strains and sprains were common; it was easy to twist an ankle or wrench a shoulder while capturing a Weevil. Bruises, cuts, and scrapes, bites of the insect or small animal variety, splinters, and allergic reactions to various kinds of alien goo were also par for the course. Owen had a whole host of specially prepared salves to treat just about any kind of rash that could afflict his teammates. Grumpy sod he might be, but he was a good doctor and he took his responsibilities seriously.
Aside from carrying out alien autopsies however, his services hadn’t been in demand for several weeks.
Until today.
“What the fuck did you do to ‘im?” Owen asked, glaring at Jack.
“Nothing! This isn’t my fault, I swear!”
“I don’t know why everyone’s making a fuss,” Ianto grumbled. “It’s just a graze.”
“What happened?”
Ianto blushed. “I hit my head getting into my new car. It’s lower than I’m used to.”
The End