Double Drabble: Waste Of Time
Title: Waste Of Time
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Jack, Owen.
Rating: PG-13 - it’s a bit gory.
Written For: Challenge 704: Switch at tw100.
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Jack is injured, and Owen is being fussy.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Double drabble.
“I’m fine,” Jack grunted, levering himself into the driver’s seat against doctor’s orders.
“You’re not fine!” Owen snapped back. “Doesn’t take a doctor to see that. Half of your innards are trying to get out through that slash in your stomach, and since I do happen to be a doctor, in my professional opinion, you’re in no condition to drive. What if you pass out from blood loss and crash? What if you drop dead? It’s not just your life you’ll be putting on the line if I let you behind that wheel. We’re switching places, just slide on over into the passenger seat and I’ll drive.”
“There’s no need,” Jack insisted through gritted teeth. “Okay, so maybe I’m not fine right now, but I will be. There’s no sense messing about over a little scratch.”
“Little? That Weevil practically disembowelled you!”
“You’re exaggerating as usual.”
Owen snatched the car keys. “You’re not driving and that’s final. We won’t be going anywhere until we switch seats.”
Groaning, Jack shuffled his way past the gear-lever and Owen climbed in the driver’s side, adjusting the seat, the rear-view mirror, the wingmirror…
Jack sighed, exasperated. “I’m healed now. Told you I’d be fine.”
The End
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Jack, Owen.
Rating: PG-13 - it’s a bit gory.
Written For: Challenge 704: Switch at tw100.
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Jack is injured, and Owen is being fussy.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Double drabble.
“I’m fine,” Jack grunted, levering himself into the driver’s seat against doctor’s orders.
“You’re not fine!” Owen snapped back. “Doesn’t take a doctor to see that. Half of your innards are trying to get out through that slash in your stomach, and since I do happen to be a doctor, in my professional opinion, you’re in no condition to drive. What if you pass out from blood loss and crash? What if you drop dead? It’s not just your life you’ll be putting on the line if I let you behind that wheel. We’re switching places, just slide on over into the passenger seat and I’ll drive.”
“There’s no need,” Jack insisted through gritted teeth. “Okay, so maybe I’m not fine right now, but I will be. There’s no sense messing about over a little scratch.”
“Little? That Weevil practically disembowelled you!”
“You’re exaggerating as usual.”
Owen snatched the car keys. “You’re not driving and that’s final. We won’t be going anywhere until we switch seats.”
Groaning, Jack shuffled his way past the gear-lever and Owen climbed in the driver’s side, adjusting the seat, the rear-view mirror, the wingmirror…
Jack sighed, exasperated. “I’m healed now. Told you I’d be fine.”
The End