Anythingdrabble Challenge Amnesty - The great stink

[m_findlow]

Title: The great stink
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters/Pairings: Gwen, Tosh, Jack, Owen
Word Count: 500 words
Rating: PG
Notes: Written for Challenge - Rot at anythingdrabble
Summary: Owen has ruptured something unpleasant.


Gwen coughed and then gagged as the scent of something totally foul hit her nose. 'Oh, God. What the hell is that?'

'You smell it too?' Tosh replied, pinching her nose at the unpleasant stench.

Jack came bolting out of his office, a stricken look in his face. 'Emergency atmospheric protocols!' he barked, already tugging on a gas mask as he said it. Tosh and Gwen both reached immediately for their bottom drawers, extracting their own masks and slipping them on with practised ease.

'What's going on, Jack?' Gwen asked.

'I got an alarm on this,' Jack said, holding up his wrist. 'Noxious fumes. Maybe not deadly, but I'm not risking it. Where are Owen and Ianto?'

'Ianto's out.'

'Oh my God, Owen,' Gwen gasped, bolting towards Owen's medical bay. He'd been autopsying their latest find.

Jack checked his wrist strap again and grabbed her arm before she could move. It's coming from down there, he said, bustling past her to skip down the stairs. Gwen raced down them from the opposite side, with Tosh leaned over the railing, all three of them spotting the unconscious form of Owen collapsed next to the gurney. Jack hefted him over his shoulder in a fireman's lift to get him away from the source of the gasses. Once he was up the stairs, Gwen and Tosh swept back the plastic curtain, doing what they could to seal in the contaminant.

'Is he going to be okay?'

Jack set him down on the concrete floor and checked his pulse. 'Yeah,' he said, tugging his mask off. 'I think we're okay. Readings have dropped since we sealed it off. Owen must have gotten a face full, though.' He gave Owen's cheek a slap and there was an annoyed grunt as he startled awake.

'What? What's going on?' He looked confused at them hovering over him, gas masks clutched in their hands.

'You passed out, Owen,' Jack told him. 'We had a gas containment problem. Had to drag your unconscious arse out of there. Looks like your medical bay was the epicentre. What exactly were you doing down there?'

Owen sat up, toying with that new lump on the back of his head. 'Autopsying that alien corpse we picked up last night. I was just cutting open the stomach lining to examine the contents. Whole bloody thing stunk to high heaven. Corpse was rotting from the inside out far as I could tell.'

'Well, whatever was in there triggered our alarms. Lucky you didn't gas yourself to death.'

'You should be so lucky,' Owen griped. 'Spose I should be grateful you didn't just accuse me of killer flatulence.'

'Believe me, that's happened before,' Jack replied. 'Not me, of course, but there is such a thing. It can be pretty explosive, and you don't wanna be around when it goes off. Rotting body parts don't even come close to describing the smell.'

Owen rolled his eyes. 'Why am I not surprised that you'd know something like that?'