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Title: Sticky situation
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters/Pairings: Tosh, Owen, Jack
Word Count: 500 words
Rating: PG
Notes: Written for Challenge 188 - Sticky at [livejournal.com profile] anythingdrabble
Summary: Tosh can't quite get used to her temporary affliction.

Tosh could have screamed in frustration as her fingers became glued to the keyboard once more. She tried to pull her hand away using three force external by her other hand, but all that did was make the both hands stick down even more firmly. When she lifted them, the keyboard went with them, and no amount of vigorous shaking would get them to detach.

‘Owen!’ she called out. ‘A little help, please?’

Owen jogged up from his medical bay and saw the state she was in. ‘I thought I told you to wear those gloves,’ he said, referring to the box of latex ones he'd given her not half an hour ago. As a precaution he'd asked her to go double glove, uncertain how robust they'd be against the sticky residue that was currently seeping from her hands.

‘I was wearing three pairs,’ she replied as he finally unstuck her from her keyboard. This stuff just eats straight through them. She didn't even want to describe to him how her feet were coping, a goopy mess inside her boots. She dared not remove them. At least it seems to be limited only to her hands and feet, though it was small consolation in trying to do her work.

‘Bloody hell,’ Owen grimaced, studying the samples from Tosh's keyboard and scraping them into little jars for further analysis. ‘This stuff really is sticky.’

Tosh was about to run a hand down her face and then stopped herself just in time. Jack said the exposure to the spores would only last a few days and the effects would wear off on their own, but right now it was driving her crazy.

‘Woah,’ Jack said, seeing the mess. ‘Maybe you should stick to verbal data input for the time being. We don't have an unlimited budget for replacement computer peripherals.’

‘Is there really nothing you can do to stop this?’ she implored.

‘It's just a little mucus secretion,’ he said, as if she'd inherited nothing more than a runny nose.

‘A little?’ Her feet were squelching.

He shrugged. ‘So, learn to control it. It's your body, after all. Use it to your advantage.’

Tosh bit back on saying something she might regret. If she wasn't coping with this she couldn't imagine how Ianto was, the other unlucky beneficiary on their rift retrieval. She glanced around. ‘Where's Ianto?’ It only just occurred to her she hadn't seen him for hours.

Jack pointed up. ‘Behold the amazing Spiderman.’

Tosh looked up, all the way to the roof several hundred feet above them. Ianto was clinging to it upside down, barefoot, and scrubbing it with his free hand.

Jack grinned. ‘Once he figured out the mucus could hold his own weight, he's been hell bent on cleaning every hard to reach spot in the hub before it wears off. Personally, things that crawl across the walls have always creeped me out, but that is one sexy spider whose web I wouldn't mind getting caught in.’

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