Challenge 717 - Shedding headaches
Jul. 17th, 2022 06:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
m_findlowTitle: Shedding headaches
Character: Owen, Ianto, Jack
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 200 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for Challenge 717 - Scale at ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
torchwood100
torchwood100Summary: Ianto is having trouble keeping the hub tidy with their newest guest. A double drabble.
Owen couldn't help but grin as he heard he muttered Welsh expletives under Ianto's breath as he shuffled by. It was so nice when the alien problem was someone elses and not his.
Ianto huffed loudly as he forced the mop behind Owen’s chair, not even being polite about sticking it in the gaps between Owen and the desk, or politely asking if it was okay or whether Owen might be able to vacate for a moment whilst he cleaned.
‘I can hear you sulking from here,’ Jack said, leaning in his doorway as the mop slowly moved in his general direction.
‘I'm not sulking,’ Ianto retorted childishly, weidling the mop like a weapon. ‘I’m just sick of cleaning up these bloody scales,’ he replied.
Jack shrugged him off. ‘What can I tell you? It’s moulting season. Like a snake sheds its entire skin, our guest sheds its scales to grow new ones in their place.’
‘Does it have to shed them individually? And why are they everywhere?’
‘It's the air ventilation systems. They weigh next to nothing so they get swept up in the drafts. Can’t do much about it unless you prefer not having fresh air down here.’
Owen couldn't help but grin as he heard he muttered Welsh expletives under Ianto's breath as he shuffled by. It was so nice when the alien problem was someone elses and not his.
Ianto huffed loudly as he forced the mop behind Owen’s chair, not even being polite about sticking it in the gaps between Owen and the desk, or politely asking if it was okay or whether Owen might be able to vacate for a moment whilst he cleaned.
‘I can hear you sulking from here,’ Jack said, leaning in his doorway as the mop slowly moved in his general direction.
‘I'm not sulking,’ Ianto retorted childishly, weidling the mop like a weapon. ‘I’m just sick of cleaning up these bloody scales,’ he replied.
Jack shrugged him off. ‘What can I tell you? It’s moulting season. Like a snake sheds its entire skin, our guest sheds its scales to grow new ones in their place.’
‘Does it have to shed them individually? And why are they everywhere?’
‘It's the air ventilation systems. They weigh next to nothing so they get swept up in the drafts. Can’t do much about it unless you prefer not having fresh air down here.’
