Drabble_weekly Challenge 489 - Mr Fix-it
Feb. 21st, 2026 08:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
m_findlowTitle: Mr Fix-it
Fandom: Torchwood
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack, Owen, Tosh
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 200 words
Content notes: None
Author notes: Written for Challenge 489 - Damage at ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
drabble_zone
drabble_zoneSummary: Jack is in hot water. A double drabble.
Owen smirked as he folded his arms and leaned back against the low brick fence. ‘Now that's what I call poetic justice.’
Tosh gave a little frown. ‘It's a bit mean, isn't it?’ she asked, trying to be fair to everyone.
‘Jack said he'd handle it, so far be it from us to get involved,’ he replied. ‘He probably dated her eighty years ago. This is probably revenge for standing her up in 1943.’
They watched on as Jack's charm offensive failed to sway the old lady who was still brandishing her walking stick at him in a menacing fashion. ‘And who's going to replace my dahlias?’ she demanded to know. ‘Just look at the damage to my front garden! You come in here touting your gun and flapping that silly coat and just look at this rosebush! My mother planted that in 1953 to mark the coronation! Trampled into the ground.’
‘Mrs Morgan, that creature was–’
‘I don't care if it was the second coming of Christ, young man,’ she scolded, snapping him in the shin with her cane. ‘You'll be back next weekend to fix everything and put it back how it was.’
Jack sighed. ‘Yes, Mrs Morgan.’
Owen smirked as he folded his arms and leaned back against the low brick fence. ‘Now that's what I call poetic justice.’
Tosh gave a little frown. ‘It's a bit mean, isn't it?’ she asked, trying to be fair to everyone.
‘Jack said he'd handle it, so far be it from us to get involved,’ he replied. ‘He probably dated her eighty years ago. This is probably revenge for standing her up in 1943.’
They watched on as Jack's charm offensive failed to sway the old lady who was still brandishing her walking stick at him in a menacing fashion. ‘And who's going to replace my dahlias?’ she demanded to know. ‘Just look at the damage to my front garden! You come in here touting your gun and flapping that silly coat and just look at this rosebush! My mother planted that in 1953 to mark the coronation! Trampled into the ground.’
‘Mrs Morgan, that creature was–’
‘I don't care if it was the second coming of Christ, young man,’ she scolded, snapping him in the shin with her cane. ‘You'll be back next weekend to fix everything and put it back how it was.’
Jack sighed. ‘Yes, Mrs Morgan.’
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Date: 2026-02-21 10:35 am (UTC)