Double Drabble: On Target
Title: On Target
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Tosh, Owen, Myfanwy.
Rating: PG
Written For: Challenge 834: Sneeze at tw100.
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: One of the Hub’s residents is feeling under the weather.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Double drabble.
A sound like a sad foghorn drifted through the Hub, making Tosh jump, and hit the wrong key on her computer, almost deleting the revisions she’d just made to the program she’d come in early to work on.
“What was that?”
Ianto set his friend’s morning cup of tea on her desk with an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that. Myfanwy’s caught a bit of a chill thanks to the recent cold snap. Owen’s up there checking her over, but I don’t think there’s much we can do for her other than keep her warm and make sure she drinks plenty of fluids.”
“Poor Myf!” The foghorn sound came again, and Tosh flinched. “She doesn’t sound at all happy.”
“Ah, that was actually a sneeze. The long beak and the position of her nostrils makes for some interesting sound effects.”
“Oh dear!”
Owen came stomping down from Myfanwy’s nest, a sour expression on his face, and something greenish and sticky splattered across his white coat and in his hair. “I gave the bald budgie a vitamin shot, but that’s the last time I’m doing the steam inhalation thing for a bloody Pteranodon. Stupid bird sneezed on me! I need a shower.”
The End
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Tosh, Owen, Myfanwy.
Rating: PG
Written For: Challenge 834: Sneeze at tw100.
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: One of the Hub’s residents is feeling under the weather.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Double drabble.
A sound like a sad foghorn drifted through the Hub, making Tosh jump, and hit the wrong key on her computer, almost deleting the revisions she’d just made to the program she’d come in early to work on.
“What was that?”
Ianto set his friend’s morning cup of tea on her desk with an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that. Myfanwy’s caught a bit of a chill thanks to the recent cold snap. Owen’s up there checking her over, but I don’t think there’s much we can do for her other than keep her warm and make sure she drinks plenty of fluids.”
“Poor Myf!” The foghorn sound came again, and Tosh flinched. “She doesn’t sound at all happy.”
“Ah, that was actually a sneeze. The long beak and the position of her nostrils makes for some interesting sound effects.”
“Oh dear!”
Owen came stomping down from Myfanwy’s nest, a sour expression on his face, and something greenish and sticky splattered across his white coat and in his hair. “I gave the bald budgie a vitamin shot, but that’s the last time I’m doing the steam inhalation thing for a bloody Pteranodon. Stupid bird sneezed on me! I need a shower.”
The End