Torchwood: Fanfic: Not as advertised

[m_findlow]

Title: Not as advertised
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: OCs, mentions Torchwood team
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 581 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for samuraiter's prompt "Torchwood, The Team, On second thought, let us not go to Cardiff. It is a silly place." at fic_promptly
Summary: Someone's been busy on TripAdvisor...

The ship hovered over the tiny blue and green orb, and they stood there staring out through the large windows at the vista below.

'What did you say this place was called again, Rosby?'

'Earth, sir,' his companion replied.

'How creative,' he murmured. These little backwater planets had such a penchant for the obvious. He seemed to recall there being New Earth, and New New New New Earth. Perhaps this was the original, or otherwise they'd just gotten confused by how many "news" they were up to and had dispatched with them altogether.

'And why did they recommend visiting?'

'Apparently it has a very interesting rift, sir. Situated over a city called Cardiff in the geopolitical region known as Wales. They have an organisation called the Torchwood Institute that looks after the rift and keeps it secret from the rest of their population.'

'What's the point of that? The only thing worth seeing here and they keep it a secret?'

Rosby consulted the screen for more information. 'Their leader is noted as charming, charismatic and immortal,' he read from the guidebook. He flipped the screen and showed him a picture.

"Jack Harkness" the screen read. Not a bad face, he agreed. The hair left something to be desired, though. It was all sideswept and flouncy. That was so three millenia ago.

'Do they run tours of this rift?'

'Not that I can see, though they do note that they have a very well resourced information bureau that highlights the many other attractions of the city.'

'How very quaint.' He bounced on the balls of his feet. 'Anything else worth checking out?'

'They have some lovely male voice choirs, a pretty castle, a local sport they call rugby, which is noted as teams of Earthlings getting into a brawl over a ball, and lots of funny little white creatures called sheep.'

'How do the sheep factor into the brawl?'

'They don't, sir.'

'Sentient? These sheep, I mean.'

'Not particularly. They're undomesticated, but docile, prized for their meat and the regenerative quality of their furs which are harvested to be manufactured into clothing.'

'I thought you said it was a highly desired destination? Sounds like a fairly rudimentary civilisation.'

Rosby paused. 'The guide book may have stretched the truth a bit,' he confessed. 'The entry was penned by an Earthling called Ianto Jones. He works for this Torchwood Institute as well.' The picture of the second Earthling was much more to his taste, if you were into the sort of simple, bipedal types, that is.

'I thought they banned planets from writing their own entries? If they all did that, every destination in the universe would be the most desirable location ever known.'

'I suspect it has something to do with the aforementioned secrecy, sir.'

He folded his arms behind his back and looked down again. He did so love a male voice choir, but was it worth it just for that? They could always see rifts in other parts of the galaxy. And the last thing they needed was to waste time having to get galactic travel clearance from a man with flouncy hair.

'On second thought, let us not go to Cardiff. It is a silly place.'

'Very good, sir,' he said, tucking the display panel under his arm. 'I shall inform the crew of our immediate departure.'

'Just one final thing, Rosby.'

'Yes, sir?'

'Get me one of those sheep. I have a grand niece who might like one.'

Comments

[bk_forever]

*giggles* If poor Rosby gets the sheep, will he be tasked with caring for it all the way home? Ianto would sympathise, I'm sure.

I think Jack might be a bit miffed about the criticism leveled at his flouncy hair though. He's nutured it carefully until it flounces just right.