Challenge 852 - Put into words
Feb. 16th, 2025 05:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
m_findlowTitle: Put into words
Character: Jack, Gwen
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 200 words
Length: 200 words
Content notes: None
Author notes: Written for Challenge 852 - Type at ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
torchwood100
torchwood100Summary: A power outage isn't enough to stop work getting done. A double drabble.
Gwen was utterly bored. She wasn't sure where the pack of playing cards had come from but now they were splayed across her desk, forming a dull game of solitaire that was doing its level best to keep her amused but failing.
Clack! Clack! Clack! The sudden sound broke her from her boredom, forcing her to lift her head and turn it in the direction of Jack's office. The clacking went from stuttering to a constant barrage, almost like gunfire. What on earth was Jack doing in there?
Ping! The noise erupted as she reached the doorway and the sound now made sense as she saw the antique piece of machinery in Jack's desk, his fingers leaving the keys to push the carriage back.
‘Where did you get that?’ she asked.
Jack stopped typing. ‘Had it for years,’ he replied bathed in the glow of the red emergency lighting. ‘Ianto told me that having no power was no excuse for ignoring the backlog of reports I owe him.’
Gwen smirked. ‘Of course he did.’
‘It was this or write them up by hand. Just so long as he doesn't mind a few typos. My correction fluid has dried up completely.’
Gwen was utterly bored. She wasn't sure where the pack of playing cards had come from but now they were splayed across her desk, forming a dull game of solitaire that was doing its level best to keep her amused but failing.
Clack! Clack! Clack! The sudden sound broke her from her boredom, forcing her to lift her head and turn it in the direction of Jack's office. The clacking went from stuttering to a constant barrage, almost like gunfire. What on earth was Jack doing in there?
Ping! The noise erupted as she reached the doorway and the sound now made sense as she saw the antique piece of machinery in Jack's desk, his fingers leaving the keys to push the carriage back.
‘Where did you get that?’ she asked.
Jack stopped typing. ‘Had it for years,’ he replied bathed in the glow of the red emergency lighting. ‘Ianto told me that having no power was no excuse for ignoring the backlog of reports I owe him.’
Gwen smirked. ‘Of course he did.’
‘It was this or write them up by hand. Just so long as he doesn't mind a few typos. My correction fluid has dried up completely.’
