picfor1000 | Torchwood Fic: A Depressingly Average Morning (for Torchwood)

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Torchwood Fic: A Depressingly Average Morning (for Torchwood)

Title: A Depressingly Average Morning (for Torchwood)
Author: out_there
Fandom: Torchwood
Disclaimer: Oh, seriously, does anyone think I actually own rights to a spin-off from a show that's older than I am? I didn't think so.
Rating: G.
Wordcount: 1000.
Summary: Slippery-dips, psychic fields, and a Jack-with-a-box: a depressingly average morning for Torchwood.
Notes: Written for the

picfor1000 challenge for this prompt. Adjusted, encouraged and petted in all the right places by

0bake (in other words, simply not possible without her). All the errors -- if there are any left -- belong to me.

"A girl fell off her swing and ran away crying," Owen says, pulling his jacket tighter and squinting into the early morning light. "Ianto was right. This required our immediate assistance."

Gwen shoots him a disapproving look. "Someone got out of the wrong side of bed."

"Speak for yourself, love. Some of us haven't been to bed yet. Remember what it's like to go out and have fun, or has it been too long since you and Rhys have?"

Gwen scowls and Owen grins back. If he has to be here and be miserable, the rest of them can suffer too.

"After the first girl ran off, the remaining twenty-six children on the playground suddenly started crying and ran away," Ianto supplies, glancing at his clipboard. "And Toshiko's computer noticed an irregularity in electromagnetic fields, most pronounced in this area."

"So I got dragged out here before seven on a Saturday morning to poke around a playground and take readings? God, I love this job."

"Good to hear," Jack says, with the type of smile that could only be Jack Bloody Harkness at an hour that God clearly forgot. Or should never have made in the first place. "Now start scanning the area and find what's causing today's strangeness."

"I thought Tosh knew the source?"

Toshiko, wearing a bright green scarf that makes Owen's eyes water, is perching on the back on the SUV, laptop open. "It's within a five-metre-radius, most likely centred somewhere within this playground. I'm trying to recalibrate the scans for a smaller search area, but so far--"

"So far your lauded IT skills have left us walking around a kiddie playset like paedophiles wandering outside a school," Owen finishes.

"Oh, I don't know, Owen," Gwen says with a gap-toothed smile. "With your mental maturity, you fit right in here."

Then with a swirl of Jack's coat -- normally, Owen can handle the melodramatics, but an open coat on a windy, icy morning is plain stupid -- everyone's assigned a corner. Ianto gets the jungle-gym and carefully, in black suit, pressed shirt and woollen overcoat, climbs the rope-ladder and peers inside plastic primary-coloured tubes designed for five-year-olds. It's amusing, and if Owen didn't have his fingers warming in his pockets, he'd take a few incriminating pictures with his mobile phone.

Then blow them up and stick them around the Hub. Just to see how long it takes Ianto to pull them all down.

Gwen gets the sandpit and a few rocking... things -- might be livestock, might be cars; the bubbled outlines aren't exactly accurate -- and walks in straight lines, stepping out a grid.

Jack spends more time standing near the picnic tables, fiddling with his wrist, than moving about and taking readings. Owen's muttering to himself about the unfairness of bosses in coats taking the only wind-protected area when Jack looks up and frowns.

"Owen. Readings. Slide," Jack yells out, punctuating each word by jabbing the air with a finger, and pointing towards it. "Now."

Walking over, Owen pitches his voice loud enough to carry. "Yeah, this is why I joined Torchwood. The mystery, the adventure, the slippery-dips."

He tries at ground level and gets nothing. Five rungs up the ladder -- climbing a slide at 7.15am in the morning makes dealing with patients look appealing -- there's a brief blip, but any higher and it disappears. At the top, he gives the slide a cursory glance, then starts climbing back down the ladder.

"Oi, Tosh!" he yells out when he's back to the fifth rung. She's still in the back of the SUV, so he's under no obligation to be nice. "Did you factor in height?"

She sticks her head out, staying inside heated comfort as much as possible. "What do you mean, height?"

"The only time I get a reading is six foot off the ground."

"Me, too," adds Ianto sombrely, standing behind a row of plastic palings. In a strip-club, Ianto would still look like a minister at a funeral: Owen's seen him do it.

Gwen stretches up, scanning above her head, her short jacket revealing a stretch of skin Owen remembers tasting. "They're right, Tosh. Nothing on the ground, but it's picking up something higher."

Pushing himself off a picnic table, Jack saunters over. "Do me a favour, Gwen. Sit on the swing."

Gwen's mouth drops open. "Seriously?"

"I'll even push," Jack adds with a grin.

"Seriously?"

Owen clambers down. He has to see this.

Jack heads over to one of the swings -- older, just a plank of wood attached to metal chains -- and holds it until Gwen cautiously sits down.

"The first girl was on this swing when the incident happened." True to his word, Jack pulls her back and pushes when the swing returns. "If this thing only reads above ground-level, maybe the kid swung right into it."

Jack gives another push, and Gwen's face goes from happy and sheepish to suddenly horrified. "Stop! Stop it, Jack."

Grabbing hold of the chains, Jack pits his weight against the swing and brings everything to a halt. "You okay? What happened?"

"It's wrong, it's cold. It's--" Gwen jumps off the thing, hugging her arms to her chest. "It made me feel... wrong. Like I shouldn't be here."

Jack steps back, staring up at his wrist. Presses a few buttons, frowns up at the space, and then gives an annoying snap of his fingers. "Scweadeiam psychic field. You'd think I'd remember those more clearly."

Jack pulls a glass tube out of his coat pocket -- the 'no alien tech leaves the base' rule only applies sometimes -- and waves it around. There's a glowing amber light, then the empty space forms a black cube the size of a jewellery box.

"What is it?"

"Nothing that'll end the world," Jack says, pocketing the object and herding everyone to the SUV.

Owen grimaces. Slippery-dips, psychic fields, and a Jack-with-a-box: a depressingly average morning for Torchwood.

At least they get coffee.

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Aw, that was nice. Excellent character voices and POVs, and I love Owen's grumpiness at Jack's swaggering.

(Apropos of little: I am, at this very moment, listening to John Barrowman sitting in for Elaine Page on Radio Two, hosting her showtunes show, and being ... very John, a bit overwhelming for a Sunday afternoon. Also, I think you and

laylee got the same picture, and your fics could not be more different if they tried, which proves ... nothing, probably.)

Aw, that was nice. Excellent character voices and POVs, and I love Owen's grumpiness at Jack's swaggering.

*beams muchly* You know, it's fantastic to get feedback from you. I kind of miss being active in the same fandoms. (and, yes, I know that if I wrote Dan/Casey, I'd totally get your feedback, but... oh. TW. It's so shiny.)

I am, at this very moment, listening to John Barrowman sitting in for Elaine Page on Radio Two, hosting her showtunes show, and being ... very John, a bit overwhelming for a Sunday afternoon.

Hee! That is a great description. Of course, I've yet to actually see anything where John's just being John, but from fannish osmosis, I'm guessing he's a character.

Also, huh. I don't think I read Laylee's. I've been so below the fannish radar I'm freakin' underground.

That's very good!

*is annoyed at having missed John Barrowman on the Radio - it's soddin' Dale Winton now!*

Hee at your icon. And thank you.

And what a pity you missed him. I choose to believe -- as I cannot verify it one way or the other -- that it was very entertaining.

Thought just occured to me - BBC Radio has a 'listen again' service on the website!

http://www.bbc.co.uk/radio/aod/networks/radio2/aod.shtml?radio2/r2_paige - that should be the link for it. If not, try www.bbc.co.uk/radio2 and click on Listen.

Which I would listen to, but I can't get it to work at work. *pouts*

And home is dial-up, so no way in hell.

Oh, it turned out so well! And somehow made me like Owen! Weird how a little of his bitching annoys me, but a lot makes me appreciate him. The bit about Jack's coat is priceless.

The bit about Jack's coat is priceless.

Someone pointed out to me the Angel-Jack similarities (older than he looks, kinda/sorta immortal, angst-ridden, leading the team but keeping himself seperate, hanging out on the top of buildings to brood while wearing long dark coats) so now I'm obligated to mock Jack just a little. It's how I show that I care.

And somehow made me like Owen! Weird how a little of his bitching annoys me, but a lot makes me appreciate him.

While Owen isn't my favourite (say it with me, boys and girls: Ianto owns Annie), I do love his bitchy, mean streak. And the way that regardless of how nasty it sounds, he doesn't generally mean it in a particularly vicious, hurtful way -- it's just that he's basically sarcastic.

Also, when you're over-tired and cranky? Owen's voice is definitely the most fun.

hanging out on the top of buildings to brood while wearing long dark coats

Hee! I don't watch Buffy/Angel enough to have thought of that, but what a perfect comparison. And RTD is a huge fan, isn't he? I'm sure the similarities aren't coincidental.

Also, when you're over-tired and cranky? Owen's voice is definitely the most fun.

I can see that. Owen's sarcasm would certainly come more naturally to me than, say, Ianto's dry humour. Of course, I'm just not clever enough to write Ianto's dialogue. Which is why I can't wait for you to write more of him!

And RTD is a huge fan, isn't he? I'm sure the similarities aren't coincidental.

Is he? If so, *hee*.

Owen's sarcasm would certainly come more naturally to me than, say, Ianto's dry humour.

I'm actually the opposite. Being mildly snarky but in a very definite look-at-how-clever-I-am way has become pretty second-nature to my writing (or was always there) after West Wing, Sports Night and Jeeves & Wooster.

I like the dry wit, the quick comments, the generally barbless and only gently mocking phrases. Also I like the way that it... it always feels geeky to me, because it tends to be based upon that slightly academic I-know-what-I'm-talking-about attitude.

Whereas Owen, while ridiculously fun, is... there's more of a mean streak there which makes me a touch uncomfortable. There were a couple of lines that I wrote and then needed

0bake to hold my hand and reassure me that it sounded like Owen. (Instead, of, say, like Annie being remarkably, remarkably bitchy.)

Of course, I'm just not clever enough to write Ianto's dialogue. Which is why I can't wait for you to write more of him!

... *looks shifty*

I have been. Kind of. But in a cheating way.

I started a wip (http://out-there.livejournal.com/862339.html#cutid1), and then instead of posting new paragraphs, I'm going back and editing it to make it longer.

It's still quite rough and I'm stuck without plot (um, yeah, I just wanted to write the damn scene of them having breakfast together) but... *waves hands vaguely* It's probably the most I'll have for a while.

Whereas Owen, while ridiculously fun, is... there's more of a mean streak there which makes me a touch uncomfortable.

Ah, that would explain it. Being mean comes quite naturally to me. My friends don't seem to mind--they love it, actually, I suppose that's why they're my friends--but I'll forget myself and say something cutting to a co-worker or classmate, and only realize when the person's eyes get a bit wide. I try to smile a lot to make up for it.

I can't do the look-at-how clever-I-am thing, though. Perhaps it's a reaction to always being surrounded by friends far more brilliant than I, but I've developed a habit of never giving the impression that I know what I'm talking about. I couldn't be clever to save my life.

Off to read the WIP!

*nods* It probably is a personal-speech thing. I'm far, far more likely to... okay. To be all academically snobby and want to be the brightest person who can sometimes be funny.

but, luckily, my friends can cope with the touch of snark and carefully controlled ego.

Hee! Adorable.

Thanks! *is totally not on LJ, really*

Love the team dynamic here - the bitching and in-fighting and Owen's mockery.

Love the team dynamic here - the bitching and in-fighting and Owen's mockery.

*grins* Thank you. There's something so... comforting? Familiar? Comfortable? About a team that can withstand that type of friendly mockery. And when it comes to Owen, his most common form of communication is through mockery.

I meant to ask, btw, what is a slippery-dip? Is this some childhood thing I've missed out on?

As for the team, I think it's because they're almost family, in the time they share together and the secrets they share. So yes, familiar, comfortable.

I meant to ask, btw, what is a slippery-dip? Is this some childhood thing I've missed out on?

A childhood term for a slide, actually. Or it is over here.

(I possibly should have got this brit-picked. *sheepish* I considered it, adn then decided that the thrill of staying up until midnight to get this damn challenge done wouldn't work if I had to sit about and wait for days for a proper beta-read.)

As for the team, I think it's because they're almost family, in the time they share together and the secrets they share. So yes, familiar, comfortable.

Yeah, that's what it is. And like a family, you don't always like everyone and people do horrible things (okay, so it's not so much insulting your favourite dress and more a case of shooting co-workers and occasionally leaving Cybermen in the basement, but still, big bad things) but they're a part of it and you can't just get rid of them, not even if you have a raging screaming match and someone storms out and promises never to return, because you know they will. After a day or so when they've cooled down, they'll come back and mangle an apology or not even bother, but just be there and do the things that they're supposed to.

...um. I totally lost my train of thought.

It could be TW-team=yay, though.

Hee, yes, Aussie term then, not a Welsh one. (Btw, if you need a Brit pick for the fandom any time, let me know - I'm good at Welsh accents, and I know Cardiff quite well).

Yes, it's a family that's dysfunctional in pretty huge ways, yet is together in huge ways too, which kind of balances it out really.

I had actually meant to say - I love the word 'slippery-dip' and you're okay, it has been used over here - it turns up in Enid Blyton; The Faraway Tree books, I think. It's a little quaint, but not unknown - it could be a word Owen had heard his nana use and that's stuck with him - and it's just such a great expression. In fact, I think we should campaign to have it brought back into general use. (I'm already campaigning for 'lollygagging'.)

(The Danny-neck icon has nothing to do with this post at all, I'm just in hyper Danny-defensive mode at the mo'.)

(And also, if you need a Brit-picker for anything I watch, I'm always available.)

In fact, I think we should campaign to have it brought back into general use. (I'm already campaigning for 'lollygagging'.)

Hee. (And am I right in thinking that lollygagging is basically standing around chatting/staring/wasting time?)

(And also, if you need a Brit-picker for anything I watch, I'm always available.)

I may take you up on that. In fact, what I'd love to do is say, "Hey, you know how I've got 58000 words of Jeeves/Bertie fluff? Want to give it a second beta when I'm through with it?" but considering I'm only up to editing page five (yes, I've been... doing everything else but) I think I should hold back on the begging for now.

I am terrified by my memory, because I Googled 'Blyton' and 'slippery dip', just to check, and yes, it was indeed The Faraway tree stories. The tree in question had a slippery-dip going right down through the middle of its trunk, I suppose these things stick with you.

Lollygagging is probably my primary talent, so I have a vested interest in reviving its use.

Yes, if you want me to do Jeeves and Bertie - not literally - I'll look at it, somewhere down the line. I can do historical and cultural for you, while I'm about it. You see, I have my uses!

How much do I love grumpy Owen in this? Lots. I also want the photos of Ianto on the play equipment because OMG adorable.

Jack is so Jack. Do it. Done it. Next! In a big swirling coat.

And just that tiny description of Tosh in the eyebleeding scarf added the right kind of touch.

How much do I love grumpy Owen in this? Lots.

Grumpy Owen kind of rocks. Although he'd only scowl if you told him so.

I also want the photos of Ianto on the play equipment because OMG adorable.

I thought so. And I'm glad other people agree.

Jack is so Jack. Do it. Done it. Next! In a big swirling coat.

Hee! I hadn't thought of Jack like that (well, I got caught by the word limit), but I guess he is a bit... quick to jump to the next thing. Without really caring about explaining it.

And just that tiny description of Tosh in the eyebleeding scarf added the right kind of touch.

I've discovered that Tosh... has hit my protective buttons. I mean, I didn't think I particularly liked her enough to be all protective of hurting her feelings, but I do. (Ianto and Jack, however, are angst-bunnies and can be hurt in many, many ways without me objecting, as long as they look pretty doing it.)

I haven't seen anything of Torchwood yet, but I loved Jack on DW and I've been reading some fic and I have to say, this is great!

Thanks!

*points to icon*

You totally should watch TW.

Oh, snogging!

*stares*

I thought it was a very good reason to watch.

Mind you, because I was watching the episode on a computer screen (and sitting on the other side of the room), I spent most of that moment thinking "Is that CPR? You wouldn't kiss someone barely conscious, right? You're preforming CPR, right, Jack? That doesn't look like CPR though..."

After careful rewatching (many times), I've realised two things:
1. Definitely not CPR
2. My fandom fails at first aid. But has lots¹ of snogging instead.

¹ Not enough Jack-snogging, more's the pity, but I appreciate that over S1, all five mains of TW have same-sex kisses. And apart from Owen's, they're all hot.

Oh, this was fun -- and you have all their voices down beautifully! Part of what's kept me from writing any TW is a lack of knowing what to DO with them, but this is fabulous. They need a nice little mystery and Owen needs to bitch -- because it's so much of what he's there for (Jack needs a counterbalance to keep them honest). Yay fic!! ♥

Oh, this was fun -- and you have all their voices down beautifully!

*twirls* Thank you! Getting them to sound right was my biggest concern. (Well, no, my biggest concern was that writing something with a team of characters would be confusing and no-one would know who was speaking, but it's sort of related.)

...and Owen needs to bitch -- because it's so much of what he's there for...

Hee! quite true.

Oh, I heart the Owen voice. And I love this:

In a strip-club, Ianto would still look like a minister at a funeral: Owen's seen him do it.

Aw, he so would.

Oh, I heart the Owen voice.

Thank you. Owen is my secret crush of TW, the guy I'd most like to date. That possibly says something very, very bad about my psyche.

Aw, he so would.

*laughs* Probably. There was a mention on the TW site last year about Ianto chasing Owen re: his expense claims for drinks at a strip club (apparently, they'd had a case there, so at some stage, there's a good chance that Owen got to see Ianto at his professional, serious best while surrounded by scantily clad dancers).

Owen is my secret crush of TW, the guy I'd most like to date.

I am REALLY liking Owen this season. Yeah, he can be a total wanker, but I don't think he's really a bad guy. AND I don't think he has to stop being a wanker to be likable. Hey, it works for House...

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Torchwood Fic: A Depressingly Average Morning (for Torchwood)

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