Fandomweekly Challenge 200 - Sealed in

[m_findlow]

Title: Sealed in
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Owen, Ianto
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 1,000 words
Content notes: None
Author notes: Written for Challenge 200 - at Duct tape fandomweekly
Summary: Torchwood has to make do in an emergency.


‘We’re down to rummaging through people's potting sheds,’ Owen remarked, wondering if days at Torchwood had always been boring like this or if it was merely on account of Jack no longer being around to keep things entertaining.

‘No one ever said it was a glamorous job,’ Ianto replied, scanning handmade shelves filled with recycled jam jars full of nails and screws and bits of string.

‘Tosh,’ Owen said, activating his earpiece, ‘you definitely got the location right?’ Owen asked for the third time. It was terribly specific and so far they’d come up with nothing.

‘You’re right on top of it,’ Tosh assured them both.

‘Whatever “it” is,’ he replied, flicking the comms back off. He sighed and put his hands on his hips, looking around uselessly, watching Ianto persevere with the search, bending down to inspect what was probably an old tin for lawnmower petrol. He unscrewed the cap and then their equipment went ballistic.

Ianto immediately slapped the cap back on the tin and twisted it tight. ‘What was that?’

‘I don’t know!’ Owen said, but it had biohazard warnings flashing all over his scanner. ‘You sealed it back up?’

‘Yes!’

‘Okay,’ Owen said, trying to remain calm. ‘Tosh, we’ve got a serious incident here.’

‘I know. I can see it here,’ she replied, clicking keys in the background. ‘Can you isolate whatever it is?’

‘A bit late after we just let it out,’ he said.

‘Do what you can. I’m sending an alert to UNIT to get a hazmat team there ASAP. Whatever it is, we’re going to need their help.’

‘Great.’ He received a nudge from Ianto, holding out a reel of duct tape.

‘We’ll seal up as much of the shed as we can,’ he said, unspooling a second reel of tape and working it along the edges of the door and small window.

‘It’s not going to be airtight,’ Owen said.

‘I know, but it’s all we’ve got.’

Owen couldn't argue with logic like that, working in tandem to cover as many gaps as they could and using a pile of old newspapers to cover larger areas with even more tape.

‘We’ve done what we can, Tosh,’ Owen reported back once they’d finished, 'but we’re stuck in here with it.'

‘UNIT are on their way,’ she assured him. ‘Gwen’s on her way there now to coordinate with them. Just hang in there and let’s hope it’s a false alarm.’

‘Yeah, cause that’s always what it is,’ Owen said, not sure if he was joking or not. Jack would have known what it was, Owen thought with no small amount of resentment. But he’d buggered off without so much as a word and left them to run Torchwood on their own.

Ianto checked his scanner again, studying the readings before flipping it around and showing Owen. ‘We've moved from red to yellow. That's a good thing, right?’

Owen shrugged. ‘Dunno. Could mean that whatever it was managed to escape despite your arts and crafts skills, or it's broken down naturally, or…’

‘Or?’ He didn't like the sound of their being a third as yet undescribed option.

‘Or we've absorbed most of it.’

‘Ah.’ That's what Ianto had been afraid he was going to say. ‘Well, let's hope it was option two, or at worst, option three.’

‘How is us being exposed and infected not the worst option?’

‘Because we signed up for this. Innocent people out there going about their lives didn't.’

‘Sucks to be us.’

‘Doesn't it?’ They stayed there for a few minutes without saying anything. ‘What do you think it'll do to us?’ Ianto asked.

‘I honestly don't know. It's not anything I've ever seen before.’ He frowned as Ianto loosened his tie and began pulling it off, unbuttoning his top shirt button and tugging it away from his neck. Then he removed his jacket. ‘Hot?’

‘A little bit. Could just be psychosomatic though, right? Cooped up in here without any fresh air.’

‘Right. I feel okay,’ Owen said after a moment, running a quick diagnostic over his own body to check for symptoms, but then again, he was only wearing a t-shirt and jeans, not a three piece suit. ‘Pretty sure,’ he added.

The more Owen stared around the room, the more little gaps he noticed, moving around to seal them as best he could without wasting what little tape they had. A few yards at most and then the reel would be empty and it would be all they could do to contain the source. Their equipment was still registering higher than acceptable levels of contaminants. UNIT were the experts on this stuff, and it was galling to ask them for help but what choice did they have?

Ianto was leaning back against the shed wall with his eyes shut and his sleeves now rolled up. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on his face and neck, yet Owen felt strangely fine. Part of him wanted to keep his distance in case whatever it was happened to be infectious and at present only one of them was. The bigger part of him – the doctor and the friend – knew he couldn't.

He found a bucket of old rags, no more than bits of torn up clothing to be used to wipe off grease and dirt and rifled through them, searching for one that was relatively stain free. He knelt beside Ianto and wiped his brow with it. ‘If Jack were here he'd be telling you to take your shirt off,’ Owen said, trying to make light of the situation, though he could see the dark patches forming on the light grey material.

‘Not just my shirt,’ Ianto replied, forcing a small smile from behind closed eyes.

‘Well, you've got permission to do so if it helps. Just don't expect anything else.’

‘No offence but I'd rather die than have you try to take advantage.’

Owen wiped his brow again. ‘No chance of that, I promise. Just hang in there, okay?’