Double Drabble: Weakling
Title: Weakling
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Jack, Owen, Tosh.
Rating: PG
Written For: Challenge 786: Weak at tw100.
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Owen needs to get in shape, he’s letting the team down.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Double drabble.
“Lift your end higher, Owen!” Jack snapped at Torchwood’s medic. “We’ll never get it in the boot at this rate!”
“I’m lifting it as high as I can!” Owen gasped, panting with exertion.
“Well it’s not high enough! What’s the matter with you? Between us, Ianto and I can shift Weevils twice as heavy as this piece of junk with no trouble at all!”
“Yeah, well, Ianto’s not here, in case you ‘aven’t noticed!”
“And whose fault it that?” Jack scowled at Owen. “If you hadn’t shot him with the tranquilliser gun when we were chasing that Murgolyx earlier…”
“It moved! How is it MY fault your boy toy was in the line of fire?”
“You should’ve checked before shooting! Now lift your end higher!”
“I’m a doctor, not a bloody weightlifter!” Owen griped. “Last I checked, lugging bits of spaceships around wasn’t in my job description!”
“Oh, just move out the way!” Tosh stamped over. “Honestly, Owen, you’re such a weakling!”
Snatching the end of the large chunk of metal from Owen’s hands, she hefted it up another foot and helped Jack manoeuvre it into the SUV’s boot.
Smirking at Owen, she added, “Maybe you should join a gym.”
The End
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Jack, Owen, Tosh.
Rating: PG
Written For: Challenge 786: Weak at tw100.
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Owen needs to get in shape, he’s letting the team down.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Double drabble.
“Lift your end higher, Owen!” Jack snapped at Torchwood’s medic. “We’ll never get it in the boot at this rate!”
“I’m lifting it as high as I can!” Owen gasped, panting with exertion.
“Well it’s not high enough! What’s the matter with you? Between us, Ianto and I can shift Weevils twice as heavy as this piece of junk with no trouble at all!”
“Yeah, well, Ianto’s not here, in case you ‘aven’t noticed!”
“And whose fault it that?” Jack scowled at Owen. “If you hadn’t shot him with the tranquilliser gun when we were chasing that Murgolyx earlier…”
“It moved! How is it MY fault your boy toy was in the line of fire?”
“You should’ve checked before shooting! Now lift your end higher!”
“I’m a doctor, not a bloody weightlifter!” Owen griped. “Last I checked, lugging bits of spaceships around wasn’t in my job description!”
“Oh, just move out the way!” Tosh stamped over. “Honestly, Owen, you’re such a weakling!”
Snatching the end of the large chunk of metal from Owen’s hands, she hefted it up another foot and helped Jack manoeuvre it into the SUV’s boot.
Smirking at Owen, she added, “Maybe you should join a gym.”
The End