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Entry tags:
Challenge 810 - No trouble
Title: No trouble
Character: Ianto, Owen
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 200 words
Content notes: None
Author notes: Written for Challenge 810 - Trouble at ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
torchwood100
torchwood100Summary: Ianto considers a problem shared to be a problem halved. A double drabble.
Ianto was surprised to find Owen hovering over his coffee machine, making what looked like the morning’s first round. He didn’t object to Owen making the coffees, now that he’d practised enough and learned how to not break things, but neither was it Owen’s job anymore. Jack had handed him back his position at full duties, so making coffee and handling mindless paperwork were no longer all Owen had to fill in his days.
‘White with one, thanks,’ Ianto teased, but Owen just pointed at a cup on the bench already. Ianto took it and gave it a grateful sip. ‘How are you?’
Owen fiddled with the spout and snorted. ‘As if you want to hear about all my troubles.’
Ianto rolled his eyes, relieved that snarky Owen was still in there despite being dead. ‘If I didn't want to hear, I wouldn’t have asked. You’re making coffee, and making it well, so you must have a lot on your mind.’
Owen rolled his eyes, but smirked. ‘Nope, nothing going on inside this empty skull. No neurons left to fire.’
Ianto smirked back. ‘Okay, but if you make a miraculous resurrection and want to talk, you know where I am.’
Ianto was surprised to find Owen hovering over his coffee machine, making what looked like the morning’s first round. He didn’t object to Owen making the coffees, now that he’d practised enough and learned how to not break things, but neither was it Owen’s job anymore. Jack had handed him back his position at full duties, so making coffee and handling mindless paperwork were no longer all Owen had to fill in his days.
‘White with one, thanks,’ Ianto teased, but Owen just pointed at a cup on the bench already. Ianto took it and gave it a grateful sip. ‘How are you?’
Owen fiddled with the spout and snorted. ‘As if you want to hear about all my troubles.’
Ianto rolled his eyes, relieved that snarky Owen was still in there despite being dead. ‘If I didn't want to hear, I wouldn’t have asked. You’re making coffee, and making it well, so you must have a lot on your mind.’
Owen rolled his eyes, but smirked. ‘Nope, nothing going on inside this empty skull. No neurons left to fire.’
Ianto smirked back. ‘Okay, but if you make a miraculous resurrection and want to talk, you know where I am.’