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m_findlowTitle: Saved for a rainy day
Tosh didn't like people thinking she was smart. Well, that wasn't exactly correct. She knew she was smart, she just didn't want them thinking she was pumping up her own tyres. That was her Japanese upbringing shining through. She could live with the occasional tease about how clever she was, but pride always comes before a fall as they say, and Tosh was wary of what would happen if she ever got too big for her boots.
'Did you find what you were looking for?' Ianto asked, wandering towards her with his coffee in hand. It was nestled on a plate, as he often liked to do when time allowed. In the same way that Tosh liked to take time to admire a good piece of programming, Ianto liked to enjoy the aesthetic side of his coffee, unlike the rest of them who were simply happy if it came in a mug and could be microwaved back up to temperature if needed.
'Oh, yes,' Tosh replied, caught slightly off guard by the question though without knowing why she should feel at all guilty. Just because the archives were Ianto's domain didn't mean he knew every single thing that was stored down here. No one could know that much. It was a literal treasure trove of information and fascination for anyone who could find the time to explore them. She clutched the tray a little too tightly and tried to relax her grip on it.
'What was it you were after?'
'Oh, you know Jack,' she said.' Always something random that strikes his fancy. Or maybe just to send us on a wild goose chase for something that turns out to be completely irrelevant.'
Ianto gave her a sympathetic smile. He knew all too well their fickle boss and his often strange requests for things.' Well, so long as he's happy. I suppose that's all any of us can hope for.'
'I'll log it back in when we're done,' she promised. At least that way she could log back into the archives whatever was left of it, if anything, or at least provide a report in its place, stating what had happened to it that now meant they were no longer in possession of it.
She carefully carried the shallow crate back upstairs and stopped by an unused laboratory, where she lifted off the lid and got her first proper look at the genuine article. It was one thing to see images photographed and filed away in their extensive database, but it was quite another to have them right there in front of her.
As expected, they looked just like seeds, little round balls of dried out husk that rattled together when she moved the tray slightly. Small wonder they were right at the bottom of anyone's list of interesting artifacts. They just screamed boring. Even running a scan over them gave away nothing, which was hardly surprising. They were dormant, and they were going to stay that way just so long as they were kept in dry conditions.
She reread the accompanying notes which had been tucked into the container with the strange little seed pods. It was nothing more than a handful of index cards, covered in beautiful cursive pencil script. It didn't say which Torchwood agent had made them, which was a little peculiar, but the fact that they'd given her the details she needed to know suggested they'd attempted this before, perhaps just with a single solitary seed pod, and then stowed the rest of them away for future research which had never eventuated, or more likely, deemed to require no further investigation.
She pulled out a small snap-lock bag from a drawer and tipped the contents into it, sealing them up before slipping it into her jeans pocket, and locking away the container until she came back. There didn't seem to be any point in feeling bad about it. It was sitting down here doing nothing, and according to her research, would stay that way until someone did something with it. Why not her and why not today?
Upstairs she grabbed her coat and bag. 'I'm just popping out for some late lunch,' she told the team. No one took much notice. They all had their projects they were working on and now so did she.
She drove out to the small park just a few blocks from her apartment. There was no one else around because the skies had clouded over, and a heavy grey wash lingered, threatening rain, sending Cardiff's less stoic residents indoors. It was perfect for what she needed.
The seeds weren't seeds at all, but rather eggs. The notes told here they'd originated from a planet that was mostly desert, and that they could sit buried under the sands for years. Once every few planetary cycles, winds would sweep across the sands, uncovering the eggs and the rains that accompanied the stormy gales would activate them and make them hatch.
Tosh peered up at the sky, feeling the first few drops hit her face. It was no rainy season storm, but a cool autumnal day ought to do the trick. Extracting the bag, she scattered the eggs on the grass in front of her. She waited as the rain began to come down in earnest, and wished she'd brought an umbrella to keep the chilly rain off her at least.
After ten minutes of soaking showers, she finally spotted movement. In mere seconds, the three dozen eggs exploded into a burst of colour, glittering red and gold as the butterfly-like creatures burst forth, flapping into the sky before her eyes. They were stunning. Harmless and beautiful as they fluttered in the rain.
Destined to live only a few days at most, but perhaps one or two might lay eggs of their own before they died. Not everything Torchwood did had to arm the planet against the future. Sometimes it was just nice to let the wonder of the universe be enjoyed.
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Tosh, Ianto
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 1,000 words
Content notes: none.
Author notes: Written for Challenge 112 - Autumn rain at ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomweekly
fandomweeklySummary: Tosh is borrowing something from the archives that she has no intention of returning.
Tosh didn't like people thinking she was smart. Well, that wasn't exactly correct. She knew she was smart, she just didn't want them thinking she was pumping up her own tyres. That was her Japanese upbringing shining through. She could live with the occasional tease about how clever she was, but pride always comes before a fall as they say, and Tosh was wary of what would happen if she ever got too big for her boots.
'Did you find what you were looking for?' Ianto asked, wandering towards her with his coffee in hand. It was nestled on a plate, as he often liked to do when time allowed. In the same way that Tosh liked to take time to admire a good piece of programming, Ianto liked to enjoy the aesthetic side of his coffee, unlike the rest of them who were simply happy if it came in a mug and could be microwaved back up to temperature if needed.
'Oh, yes,' Tosh replied, caught slightly off guard by the question though without knowing why she should feel at all guilty. Just because the archives were Ianto's domain didn't mean he knew every single thing that was stored down here. No one could know that much. It was a literal treasure trove of information and fascination for anyone who could find the time to explore them. She clutched the tray a little too tightly and tried to relax her grip on it.
'What was it you were after?'
'Oh, you know Jack,' she said.' Always something random that strikes his fancy. Or maybe just to send us on a wild goose chase for something that turns out to be completely irrelevant.'
Ianto gave her a sympathetic smile. He knew all too well their fickle boss and his often strange requests for things.' Well, so long as he's happy. I suppose that's all any of us can hope for.'
'I'll log it back in when we're done,' she promised. At least that way she could log back into the archives whatever was left of it, if anything, or at least provide a report in its place, stating what had happened to it that now meant they were no longer in possession of it.
She carefully carried the shallow crate back upstairs and stopped by an unused laboratory, where she lifted off the lid and got her first proper look at the genuine article. It was one thing to see images photographed and filed away in their extensive database, but it was quite another to have them right there in front of her.
As expected, they looked just like seeds, little round balls of dried out husk that rattled together when she moved the tray slightly. Small wonder they were right at the bottom of anyone's list of interesting artifacts. They just screamed boring. Even running a scan over them gave away nothing, which was hardly surprising. They were dormant, and they were going to stay that way just so long as they were kept in dry conditions.
She reread the accompanying notes which had been tucked into the container with the strange little seed pods. It was nothing more than a handful of index cards, covered in beautiful cursive pencil script. It didn't say which Torchwood agent had made them, which was a little peculiar, but the fact that they'd given her the details she needed to know suggested they'd attempted this before, perhaps just with a single solitary seed pod, and then stowed the rest of them away for future research which had never eventuated, or more likely, deemed to require no further investigation.
She pulled out a small snap-lock bag from a drawer and tipped the contents into it, sealing them up before slipping it into her jeans pocket, and locking away the container until she came back. There didn't seem to be any point in feeling bad about it. It was sitting down here doing nothing, and according to her research, would stay that way until someone did something with it. Why not her and why not today?
Upstairs she grabbed her coat and bag. 'I'm just popping out for some late lunch,' she told the team. No one took much notice. They all had their projects they were working on and now so did she.
She drove out to the small park just a few blocks from her apartment. There was no one else around because the skies had clouded over, and a heavy grey wash lingered, threatening rain, sending Cardiff's less stoic residents indoors. It was perfect for what she needed.
The seeds weren't seeds at all, but rather eggs. The notes told here they'd originated from a planet that was mostly desert, and that they could sit buried under the sands for years. Once every few planetary cycles, winds would sweep across the sands, uncovering the eggs and the rains that accompanied the stormy gales would activate them and make them hatch.
Tosh peered up at the sky, feeling the first few drops hit her face. It was no rainy season storm, but a cool autumnal day ought to do the trick. Extracting the bag, she scattered the eggs on the grass in front of her. She waited as the rain began to come down in earnest, and wished she'd brought an umbrella to keep the chilly rain off her at least.
After ten minutes of soaking showers, she finally spotted movement. In mere seconds, the three dozen eggs exploded into a burst of colour, glittering red and gold as the butterfly-like creatures burst forth, flapping into the sky before her eyes. They were stunning. Harmless and beautiful as they fluttered in the rain.
Destined to live only a few days at most, but perhaps one or two might lay eggs of their own before they died. Not everything Torchwood did had to arm the planet against the future. Sometimes it was just nice to let the wonder of the universe be enjoyed.
