Drabble_weekly Challenge 373 - Dolled up
Nov. 25th, 2023 05:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
m_findlowTitle: Dolled up
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Owen, Jack, Ianto
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 300 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for Challenge 373 - That's not mine at ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
drabble_zone
drabble_zoneSummary: Owen wakes up to more questions than answers. A triple drabble.
Owen's head hurt like hell as he cracked open an eye, finding himself looking up at a distinctly white ceiling and smelling the all too familiar scent of disinfectant and latex. 'God,' he groaned, rubbing his face and knowing he was stuck in a hospital bed.
'He's awake,' Ianto said, sitting off to the side in one of those uncomfortable chairs.
'Hmm?' Jack turned from the doorway, clearly distracted by naughty nurses hoping to flirt with him.
'What happened?' Owen asked, sounding groggy even to his own ears.
'You tell us,' Jack said. 'Paramedics found you lying unconscious off St Mary's Street and bleeding from the head.'
Owen groaned again, vague memories returning. 'Weevil,' he said. 'Clocked it on my way home from the pub.'
'Well, you must have come off lucky,' Ianto remarked. 'Obviously it wasn't in the killing mood. Can't say I blame it.'
Owned frowned at the comment. 'Why?'
Jack tossed something orange and lurid onto the bed into Owen's lap. 'Paramedics found you wearing this.' It was a feather boa, and looked worse for wear.
'That's not mine,' Owen said.
'No? What about the red lipstick you were also sporting? Exactly which pub were you at? You should've told us it was drag night. We'd have come along to watch.'
'Dunno what you're talking about,' Owen said, even more confused than before.
'We made sure to get pictures before the nurses cleaned you up,' Ianto said, smirking and then showing Owen his phone.
Owen slumped back against the pillows. Knocked out cold trying to capture a rogue weevil and all he had to show was some drunken twats practical joke instead of calling an ambulance. 'People in Cardiff are bastards,' he grumbled.
Jack grinned. 'Maybe, but you make for a surprisingly attractive drag queen. Who knew?'
Owen's head hurt like hell as he cracked open an eye, finding himself looking up at a distinctly white ceiling and smelling the all too familiar scent of disinfectant and latex. 'God,' he groaned, rubbing his face and knowing he was stuck in a hospital bed.
'He's awake,' Ianto said, sitting off to the side in one of those uncomfortable chairs.
'Hmm?' Jack turned from the doorway, clearly distracted by naughty nurses hoping to flirt with him.
'What happened?' Owen asked, sounding groggy even to his own ears.
'You tell us,' Jack said. 'Paramedics found you lying unconscious off St Mary's Street and bleeding from the head.'
Owen groaned again, vague memories returning. 'Weevil,' he said. 'Clocked it on my way home from the pub.'
'Well, you must have come off lucky,' Ianto remarked. 'Obviously it wasn't in the killing mood. Can't say I blame it.'
Owned frowned at the comment. 'Why?'
Jack tossed something orange and lurid onto the bed into Owen's lap. 'Paramedics found you wearing this.' It was a feather boa, and looked worse for wear.
'That's not mine,' Owen said.
'No? What about the red lipstick you were also sporting? Exactly which pub were you at? You should've told us it was drag night. We'd have come along to watch.'
'Dunno what you're talking about,' Owen said, even more confused than before.
'We made sure to get pictures before the nurses cleaned you up,' Ianto said, smirking and then showing Owen his phone.
Owen slumped back against the pillows. Knocked out cold trying to capture a rogue weevil and all he had to show was some drunken twats practical joke instead of calling an ambulance. 'People in Cardiff are bastards,' he grumbled.
Jack grinned. 'Maybe, but you make for a surprisingly attractive drag queen. Who knew?'
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Date: 2023-11-25 10:39 am (UTC)