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Over the past couple of months, I've written quite a few Torchwood drabbles. I think I finally have enough to post to communities, so I've gathered them in this post. Flist: nothing new here.
TITLE: Eight Drabbles. (Yes, I know, but I have to call it something.)
AUTHOR: Cathryn (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
catslash
RATING: PG for a touch of language and Jack flirting.
CHARACTERS: Owen, Jack, Ten, Sarah Jane.
SUMMARY: A collection of Torchwood drabbles. Includes crossovers with Doctor Who, The Sarah Jane Adventures, and (yes) Jeeves and Wooster.
DISCLAIMER: Everything belongs to various creators and companies and such and I am definitely not involved in any of it. I take no credit and stake no claim.
SPOILERS: Each link is marked accordingly; however, there are no spoilers for any series currently airing in the UK or any unaired episodes of anything.
Owen, by dint of running late, is the last to meet Jack's precious Doctor. The bright smile on Jack's face slips a notch when he walks in.
"And this is Owen Harper."
When their eyes meet, the Doctor reacts like it's a physical blow, stunned look and full-body flinch. Then he's in motion, striding toward Owen. Then too close, studying him with a horrified fascination that any doctor would recognize.
"What the fuck?" Owen says blankly. The Doctor's expression softens.
"Oh, dear," he murmurs; then, eyes not leaving Owen's, "Jack, what have you done?"
(This drabble was later expanded into "Recognition.")
**********
Owen's taken to walking home on late nights. He won't tire and he certainly has the extra time to spare. Even for him, it's not particularly safe, out alone so late, but he doesn't much care.
A man falls into step next to him one night and says his name. When Owen looks over, wary, the man smiles.
"Well, aren't you just something."
Owen stops. It sounds like a clumsy flirt, but -
- but their eyes meet, and his are sharp, and in the distance Owen can hear the pounding of drums.
+
"Owen, what is that?" Owen looks up in surprise at Jack's voice, sharp and loud in the rare quiet of the Hub.
"What?"
"That tapping. What is that?"
Owen looks at the now motionless biro in his hand. "Dunno. Since last night, can't get it out of my head."
"Owen, what happened last night? Where did you hear it?"
"I heard it -" Owen pauses. Frowns. "There was -" A brief flash - gone. He can't get hold of it. He looks at Jack, feeling the other man's urgency beginning to trickle down to him.
"I can't remember."
**********
The trip to London is a mess - missing artifact, a mad dash around the city, and an explosion to top things off before Jack finally gets his hands on the damn thing.
So, pretty much a typical Torchwood mission. Purely routine. Jack's almost bored.
Then the reporter shows up.
She shows an ID and smiles a smile that doesn't fool Jack for a second. "Sarah Jane Smith, journalist."
He doesn't miss the way she glances at the box. He smiles a smile that won't fool her either, because now things are finally going to get interesting.
+
"Sarah Jane, did -" Alan stops short in the doorway. "Who's this, then?"
The man gives him a brilliant smile. "Captain Jack Harkness."
"Alan Jackson." Firm handshake, uncharacteristically guarded smile of his own. He's only known the truth a few days and already it feels wrong to see a stranger in this room, even with Sarah Jane nearby.
"It's a pleasure," Harkness murmurs, looking into Alan's eyes.
- oh. Heat rises in his face; Harkness smiles again and steps away.
Sarah Jane's blessing or no, Alan suspects that Harkness will need a close eye kept on him.
**********
Owen never could get Katie to quit smoking. She wouldn't take it seriously - whenever he'd start talking about lung cancer or kissing ashtrays, she would bat her eyes and set her mouth in an absurd pout and he'd always end up laughing. She didn't really taste like an ashtray, anyway. Just cigarettes and strawberry lip gloss and he privately thought it was quite nice. It was Katie.
She smoked until the day she died. The day after that, Owen bought a packet of her favorites. He only took one drag before he finally began to cry.
**********
It is, Jack thinks, exceedingly lucky for Bertie Wooster that Jack's days as a conman are over, because he swallows the garbled story about being schoolmates even more easily than Torchwood said he would. At least Jack won't have to worry about being interfered with.
Wooster, still a bit flustered, apologizes for his own poor memory and tells his man, Jeeves, to ready a room for Jack.
"Very good, sir," Jeeves says. Jack glances at him. Their eyes meet and hold for just a second, and Jack realizes that it isn't Wooster he should be worrying about.
**********
"Jesus fuck!" Tony Stark gaped at the screen as the President's body fell.
"Did he just - ?" Pepper looked at Tony for confirmation, then together they stared as Prime Minister Saxon smirked and preened for the cameras.
After a shocked moment's silence, Tony said, "I. I have to . . ." and got to his feet. The Valiant was hundreds of miles beyond his reach, but neither of them had any better ideas.
A few minutes later, when the sky opened and the Toclafane poured forth, Pepper answered Tony's ringing phone to tell Nick Fury that Tony was already suiting up.
(This drabble ended up being the basis for "Supply and Demand.")
TITLE: Eight Drabbles. (Yes, I know, but I have to call it something.)
AUTHOR: Cathryn (
catslashRATING: PG for a touch of language and Jack flirting.
CHARACTERS: Owen, Jack, Ten, Sarah Jane.
SUMMARY: A collection of Torchwood drabbles. Includes crossovers with Doctor Who, The Sarah Jane Adventures, and (yes) Jeeves and Wooster.
DISCLAIMER: Everything belongs to various creators and companies and such and I am definitely not involved in any of it. I take no credit and stake no claim.
SPOILERS: Each link is marked accordingly; however, there are no spoilers for any series currently airing in the UK or any unaired episodes of anything.
Owen, by dint of running late, is the last to meet Jack's precious Doctor. The bright smile on Jack's face slips a notch when he walks in.
"And this is Owen Harper."
When their eyes meet, the Doctor reacts like it's a physical blow, stunned look and full-body flinch. Then he's in motion, striding toward Owen. Then too close, studying him with a horrified fascination that any doctor would recognize.
"What the fuck?" Owen says blankly. The Doctor's expression softens.
"Oh, dear," he murmurs; then, eyes not leaving Owen's, "Jack, what have you done?"
(This drabble was later expanded into "Recognition.")
**********
Owen's taken to walking home on late nights. He won't tire and he certainly has the extra time to spare. Even for him, it's not particularly safe, out alone so late, but he doesn't much care.
A man falls into step next to him one night and says his name. When Owen looks over, wary, the man smiles.
"Well, aren't you just something."
Owen stops. It sounds like a clumsy flirt, but -
- but their eyes meet, and his are sharp, and in the distance Owen can hear the pounding of drums.
+
"Owen, what is that?" Owen looks up in surprise at Jack's voice, sharp and loud in the rare quiet of the Hub.
"What?"
"That tapping. What is that?"
Owen looks at the now motionless biro in his hand. "Dunno. Since last night, can't get it out of my head."
"Owen, what happened last night? Where did you hear it?"
"I heard it -" Owen pauses. Frowns. "There was -" A brief flash - gone. He can't get hold of it. He looks at Jack, feeling the other man's urgency beginning to trickle down to him.
"I can't remember."
**********
The trip to London is a mess - missing artifact, a mad dash around the city, and an explosion to top things off before Jack finally gets his hands on the damn thing.
So, pretty much a typical Torchwood mission. Purely routine. Jack's almost bored.
Then the reporter shows up.
She shows an ID and smiles a smile that doesn't fool Jack for a second. "Sarah Jane Smith, journalist."
He doesn't miss the way she glances at the box. He smiles a smile that won't fool her either, because now things are finally going to get interesting.
+
"Sarah Jane, did -" Alan stops short in the doorway. "Who's this, then?"
The man gives him a brilliant smile. "Captain Jack Harkness."
"Alan Jackson." Firm handshake, uncharacteristically guarded smile of his own. He's only known the truth a few days and already it feels wrong to see a stranger in this room, even with Sarah Jane nearby.
"It's a pleasure," Harkness murmurs, looking into Alan's eyes.
- oh. Heat rises in his face; Harkness smiles again and steps away.
Sarah Jane's blessing or no, Alan suspects that Harkness will need a close eye kept on him.
**********
Owen never could get Katie to quit smoking. She wouldn't take it seriously - whenever he'd start talking about lung cancer or kissing ashtrays, she would bat her eyes and set her mouth in an absurd pout and he'd always end up laughing. She didn't really taste like an ashtray, anyway. Just cigarettes and strawberry lip gloss and he privately thought it was quite nice. It was Katie.
She smoked until the day she died. The day after that, Owen bought a packet of her favorites. He only took one drag before he finally began to cry.
**********
It is, Jack thinks, exceedingly lucky for Bertie Wooster that Jack's days as a conman are over, because he swallows the garbled story about being schoolmates even more easily than Torchwood said he would. At least Jack won't have to worry about being interfered with.
Wooster, still a bit flustered, apologizes for his own poor memory and tells his man, Jeeves, to ready a room for Jack.
"Very good, sir," Jeeves says. Jack glances at him. Their eyes meet and hold for just a second, and Jack realizes that it isn't Wooster he should be worrying about.
**********
"Jesus fuck!" Tony Stark gaped at the screen as the President's body fell.
"Did he just - ?" Pepper looked at Tony for confirmation, then together they stared as Prime Minister Saxon smirked and preened for the cameras.
After a shocked moment's silence, Tony said, "I. I have to . . ." and got to his feet. The Valiant was hundreds of miles beyond his reach, but neither of them had any better ideas.
A few minutes later, when the sky opened and the Toclafane poured forth, Pepper answered Tony's ringing phone to tell Nick Fury that Tony was already suiting up.
(This drabble ended up being the basis for "Supply and Demand.")
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THIS. THIS IS WHY I AVOID FANDOM. YOU WRITE IN CHARACTER. YOU are watching the same show as me. I'm not so sure about these other people.
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Had Owen lived - or continued to exist, or whatever - he and Ianto could have come round to being friends, but they never really were in the series run.
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Had Owen lived - or continued to exist, or whatever - he and Ianto could have come round to being friends, but they never really were in the series run.
Amen. The Tintin stuff could have been the start of something, but that something never stood a chance. Rassanfrassan writers ...
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Not that the writers would have done it justice anyway. Name one relationship on Torchwood that was satisfyingly written. *waits for you to name like twelve because that sort of thing always happens to me*
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