Double Drabble: Anatomy Lesson
Title: Anatomy Lesson
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Owen.
Rating: G
Written For: Challenge 633: Vain / Vein at tw100.
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Ianto is intrigued by whatever it is Owen’s working on.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Double drabble.
Setting a streaming mug of coffee down on Owen’s workstation, Ianto leaned over the medic’s shoulder to look at his computer screen.
“What’s that supposed to be then, a map of your brain?”
“Har har, think you’re a comedian do you?”
“I have my moments. Seriously though, what is it? I’ve never seen anything like that before, it looks like something my niece might draw and she’s only seven.”
The screen was showing a tracery of thin lines, hardly more than threads, some of them light pink and some more of a violet shade, most of them radiating out from two slightly thicker lines in the upper portion of the screen. The threads ran into and out of various funny shaped blobs, also generally pinkish or purplish in colour.
“If you must know, I’m mapping the circulatory system of the Torchwood Snock. I’ve got Scrap under the scanner; he’s a very obliging little chap, happy to stay still if I bribe him with a nice fat dust bunny.”
“So those are the veins and arteries of a Snock?”
“And the capillaries, and organs. Heart, stomach, lungs, and brain. Next time a Snock gets hurt I’ll know how to fix it.”
The End
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Owen.
Rating: G
Written For: Challenge 633: Vain / Vein at tw100.
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Ianto is intrigued by whatever it is Owen’s working on.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Double drabble.
Setting a streaming mug of coffee down on Owen’s workstation, Ianto leaned over the medic’s shoulder to look at his computer screen.
“What’s that supposed to be then, a map of your brain?”
“Har har, think you’re a comedian do you?”
“I have my moments. Seriously though, what is it? I’ve never seen anything like that before, it looks like something my niece might draw and she’s only seven.”
The screen was showing a tracery of thin lines, hardly more than threads, some of them light pink and some more of a violet shade, most of them radiating out from two slightly thicker lines in the upper portion of the screen. The threads ran into and out of various funny shaped blobs, also generally pinkish or purplish in colour.
“If you must know, I’m mapping the circulatory system of the Torchwood Snock. I’ve got Scrap under the scanner; he’s a very obliging little chap, happy to stay still if I bribe him with a nice fat dust bunny.”
“So those are the veins and arteries of a Snock?”
“And the capillaries, and organs. Heart, stomach, lungs, and brain. Next time a Snock gets hurt I’ll know how to fix it.”
The End