Double Drabble: No Hands
Title: No Hands
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Owen, Nosy.
Rating: G
Written For: Challenge 710: Twist at tw100.
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Ianto is injured and having problems.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Double drabble.
Ianto was not in a good mood; the team were out on a mission, but thanks to a freak accident the day before that had left him among the walking wounded, he’d been left at the Hub, alone and helpless.
Okay, not completely alone, and not totally helpless, but he was having what he felt was a justified wallow in self-pity, because damnit, he was in pain, and everyone had deserted him in his hour of need!
“Painkillers,” Owen had told him the day before, after bandaging his scalded hands. “Take two every six hours, and no skipping a dose because you think you can manage. I know what you’re like. You’ve got a martyr complex.”
That wasn’t true, Ianto simply preferred not to take strong painkillers because they made him sleepy, interfering with his ability to do his job. Not that he could do much at present. Still, he’d been taking the pills on schedule, knowing Owen would bitch if he didn’t, only now he was stuck because the bottle had a childproof twist top, and he couldn’t open it.
“Hum,” Nosy said firmly, taking the bottle and somehow twisting the top off.
“Thanks.”
Childproof apparently didn’t mean Fluff-proof.
The End
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Owen, Nosy.
Rating: G
Written For: Challenge 710: Twist at tw100.
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Ianto is injured and having problems.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Double drabble.
Ianto was not in a good mood; the team were out on a mission, but thanks to a freak accident the day before that had left him among the walking wounded, he’d been left at the Hub, alone and helpless.
Okay, not completely alone, and not totally helpless, but he was having what he felt was a justified wallow in self-pity, because damnit, he was in pain, and everyone had deserted him in his hour of need!
“Painkillers,” Owen had told him the day before, after bandaging his scalded hands. “Take two every six hours, and no skipping a dose because you think you can manage. I know what you’re like. You’ve got a martyr complex.”
That wasn’t true, Ianto simply preferred not to take strong painkillers because they made him sleepy, interfering with his ability to do his job. Not that he could do much at present. Still, he’d been taking the pills on schedule, knowing Owen would bitch if he didn’t, only now he was stuck because the bottle had a childproof twist top, and he couldn’t open it.
“Hum,” Nosy said firmly, taking the bottle and somehow twisting the top off.
“Thanks.”
Childproof apparently didn’t mean Fluff-proof.
The End