Challenge 794 - Cursed
Jan. 7th, 2024 10:53 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
m_findlowTitle: Cursed
Character: Jack, Ianto
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 300 words
Content notes: None
Author notes: Written for Challenge 794 - Unlucky at ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
torchwood100
torchwood100Summary: Collateral damage is about to wreak havoc on Jack's life. A triple drabble.
‘Another vicious alien bites the dust,’ Jack announced, surveying the creature now lying dead on the bathroom floor as he holstered his webley.
‘We couldn't have just stunned it and moved it on?’ Ianto said, feeling a little squeamish at the sight of the yellow blood substance oozing out of it all across the floor, smelling god awful.
‘You know me, Ianto. I’m all for preserving life, but there are some even I know are better off dead. Better off for us, anyway.’
Ianto raised his jacket sleeve to his face, trying to mask some of the stench. ‘If it’s as unpleasant in life as it is in death, I'll take your word for it.’ He glanced around the small enclosed space. ‘That’s seven years bad luck,’ he said, referring to the shattered vanity mirror off to the left.
‘It was a ricochet,’ Jack replied. ‘These things have tough skin. Gotta be real accurate to get them where they’re vulnerable.’
‘Still bad luck,’ Ianto insisted.
Jack scoffed. ‘You twenty-first century humans and your silly superstitions. Let’s go get the gear from the SUV and start cleaning this up before the owners get back from their holiday.’
‘Yup, nothing worse than having perfected your Majorcan tan only to sweat it all away scrubbing down alien body fluids from your shower screen,’ Ianto agreed.
Jack turned at the top of the stairs, about to say something witty in reply, but instead disappeared quickly from sight. All Ianto heard was the series of thuds as he came rushing out to find Jack crumpled in a heap at the bottom of the stairs.
‘You okay?’
‘I’ll live,’ Jack groaned painfully.
‘What were you saying about not believing in bad luck?’
‘The end of my coat got caught on the bannister, that's all!’
‘Uh huh.’
‘Another vicious alien bites the dust,’ Jack announced, surveying the creature now lying dead on the bathroom floor as he holstered his webley.
‘We couldn't have just stunned it and moved it on?’ Ianto said, feeling a little squeamish at the sight of the yellow blood substance oozing out of it all across the floor, smelling god awful.
‘You know me, Ianto. I’m all for preserving life, but there are some even I know are better off dead. Better off for us, anyway.’
Ianto raised his jacket sleeve to his face, trying to mask some of the stench. ‘If it’s as unpleasant in life as it is in death, I'll take your word for it.’ He glanced around the small enclosed space. ‘That’s seven years bad luck,’ he said, referring to the shattered vanity mirror off to the left.
‘It was a ricochet,’ Jack replied. ‘These things have tough skin. Gotta be real accurate to get them where they’re vulnerable.’
‘Still bad luck,’ Ianto insisted.
Jack scoffed. ‘You twenty-first century humans and your silly superstitions. Let’s go get the gear from the SUV and start cleaning this up before the owners get back from their holiday.’
‘Yup, nothing worse than having perfected your Majorcan tan only to sweat it all away scrubbing down alien body fluids from your shower screen,’ Ianto agreed.
Jack turned at the top of the stairs, about to say something witty in reply, but instead disappeared quickly from sight. All Ianto heard was the series of thuds as he came rushing out to find Jack crumpled in a heap at the bottom of the stairs.
‘You okay?’
‘I’ll live,’ Jack groaned painfully.
‘What were you saying about not believing in bad luck?’
‘The end of my coat got caught on the bannister, that's all!’
‘Uh huh.’
