![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Challenge 802 - Misfire
Title: Misfire
Character: Owen, Suzie, Jack
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 200 words
Content notes: None
Author notes: Written for Challenge 802 - Easy at ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
torchwood100
torchwood100Summary: Jack has his reasons for wanting his team trained up. A double drabble.
Owen sighed and leaned back against the wall as Suzie added her own sigh, before checking her watch. ‘He’s late,’ she said.
‘You don’t say, Suze. Why are we even down here, anyway?’
‘Jack says we need more weapons training. I figured the table covered in guns kind of gave it away.’
Owen snorted in reply. ‘Rubbish. Like we don’t already know how to handle a gun. You point then shoot, hopefully at the target.’
‘It’s not that easy,’ Jack said, his voice echoing slightly as he came out from the corridor out into the shooting range.
‘No, I forgot,’ Owen snarked. ‘Sometimes you’re running at the same time.’
It was Jack’s turn to roll his eyes. ‘Fine. If it’s so easy then here, ‘he said, picking one of the alien guns from the table and holding it out for Owen.
Owen snatched it, made sure he was gripping the handle and not the barrel then aimed it. He’d get that weevil right between the eyes. ‘Ow!’ he cried as he pulled the trigger, his hand receiving a nasty jolt. ‘That bloody hurt!’
Jack grinned. ‘Easier if you knew to keep one foot off the ground to release the discharge.’
Owen sighed and leaned back against the wall as Suzie added her own sigh, before checking her watch. ‘He’s late,’ she said.
‘You don’t say, Suze. Why are we even down here, anyway?’
‘Jack says we need more weapons training. I figured the table covered in guns kind of gave it away.’
Owen snorted in reply. ‘Rubbish. Like we don’t already know how to handle a gun. You point then shoot, hopefully at the target.’
‘It’s not that easy,’ Jack said, his voice echoing slightly as he came out from the corridor out into the shooting range.
‘No, I forgot,’ Owen snarked. ‘Sometimes you’re running at the same time.’
It was Jack’s turn to roll his eyes. ‘Fine. If it’s so easy then here, ‘he said, picking one of the alien guns from the table and holding it out for Owen.
Owen snatched it, made sure he was gripping the handle and not the barrel then aimed it. He’d get that weevil right between the eyes. ‘Ow!’ he cried as he pulled the trigger, his hand receiving a nasty jolt. ‘That bloody hurt!’
Jack grinned. ‘Easier if you knew to keep one foot off the ground to release the discharge.’