Triple Drabble: The Morning After
Title: The Morning After
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Jack, Ianto, OCs.
Rating: PG
Written For: Challenge 814: Where? at tw100.
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: It’s the morning after the night before, and Jack and Ianto aren’t the only ones feeling a bit fragile.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Triple drabble. Set in my Through Time and Space ‘Verse.
After a bit of disjointed flailing, Jack managed to lever himself into something vaguely resembling a sitting position. He squinted at his surroundings, blinked, rubbed his eyes, and squinted some more, his gaze finally coming to rest on Ianto, who was sprawled beside him.
“Where are we?”
Ianto turned his head slightly, focussing blearily somewhere in the vicinity of Jack’s face. “Why’re you askin’ me?” he mumbled. “I was hopin’ you knew.”
“Uh…” Jack looked around again, trying to make sense of their surroundings, but failed to see anything familiar. “No, sorry. Pretty sure this isn’t where we were last night though.”
“Oh. Well, that’s good. I suppose. I can’t imagine why we’d have come here intentionally. It’s a bit…” He trailed off, lacking words to describe what he was seeing.
“Mm,” Jack agreed. “It is.”
“What were we drinking last night? Maybe we’re hallucinating.”
“I don’t remember,” Jack admitted. “I think I had one of everything.”
“Why would you do that?”
“It was a celebration; I remember that much.”
“Not one of ours though.” Ianto was almost certain they hadn’t got married again. “Something to do with those decapods we met.”
“Where are we?” a voice burbled from somewhere behind Ianto. A tentacle waved feebly, almost hitting him in the face.
“Watch what you’re doing with that,” Ianto grumbled, at the same time as Jack said, “No idea. We were just trying to figure that out ourselves.”
“Oooh,” another voice groaned. “I hurt in places I didn’t know I had!”
“Join the club,” Ianto replied, managing to roll over on the third attempt, and coming face-to-face with one of the decapods. “Fancy meeting you here. Wherever here is.” His head was starting to clear. “Are we in jail?”
“Um…” Jack pulled a face. “Drunk tank, I think.”
“Oh, wonderful.”
The End
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Jack, Ianto, OCs.
Rating: PG
Written For: Challenge 814: Where? at tw100.
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: It’s the morning after the night before, and Jack and Ianto aren’t the only ones feeling a bit fragile.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Triple drabble. Set in my Through Time and Space ‘Verse.
After a bit of disjointed flailing, Jack managed to lever himself into something vaguely resembling a sitting position. He squinted at his surroundings, blinked, rubbed his eyes, and squinted some more, his gaze finally coming to rest on Ianto, who was sprawled beside him.
“Where are we?”
Ianto turned his head slightly, focussing blearily somewhere in the vicinity of Jack’s face. “Why’re you askin’ me?” he mumbled. “I was hopin’ you knew.”
“Uh…” Jack looked around again, trying to make sense of their surroundings, but failed to see anything familiar. “No, sorry. Pretty sure this isn’t where we were last night though.”
“Oh. Well, that’s good. I suppose. I can’t imagine why we’d have come here intentionally. It’s a bit…” He trailed off, lacking words to describe what he was seeing.
“Mm,” Jack agreed. “It is.”
“What were we drinking last night? Maybe we’re hallucinating.”
“I don’t remember,” Jack admitted. “I think I had one of everything.”
“Why would you do that?”
“It was a celebration; I remember that much.”
“Not one of ours though.” Ianto was almost certain they hadn’t got married again. “Something to do with those decapods we met.”
“Where are we?” a voice burbled from somewhere behind Ianto. A tentacle waved feebly, almost hitting him in the face.
“Watch what you’re doing with that,” Ianto grumbled, at the same time as Jack said, “No idea. We were just trying to figure that out ourselves.”
“Oooh,” another voice groaned. “I hurt in places I didn’t know I had!”
“Join the club,” Ianto replied, managing to roll over on the third attempt, and coming face-to-face with one of the decapods. “Fancy meeting you here. Wherever here is.” His head was starting to clear. “Are we in jail?”
“Um…” Jack pulled a face. “Drunk tank, I think.”
“Oh, wonderful.”
The End