Characters: Ianto, Owen.
Written For: Challenge 488: Swear at tw100.
Summary: Owen gets himself into another predicament, much to Ianto’s amusement.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: This one’s a double drabble.
It was the string of profanities that drew Ianto’s attention. Owen was known for swearing a lot, but even by his usual standards, this was impressive.
“Quite a vocabulary you’ve got there.” Ianto leant on the railing looking down into the autopsy pit, an amused smirk on his lips. “I was starting to wonder which you’d run out of first, breath or swearwords.”
Lungs heaving as he tried to catch his breath for another round of swearing, Owen glared balefully up at the younger man. “If you were… any kind of friend,” he panted, “You’d help… instead of just… trying to be… witty.”
“Well I would, only this is a really nice suit and I don’t want to spoil it. What exactly are you doing anyway? That doesn’t look very comfortable.”
Owen swore again, this time at Ianto. “I didn’t… do this… on purpose!”
“So you somehow accidentally stuck your arm down the throat of a dead alien?”
“I dropped… my scalpel! It fell in… this thing’s mouth… When I tried to… get it back… the mouth shut… Now it won’t open!”
“You just never learn, do you? I’ll fetch the crowbar. Don’t go anywhere.”
“I’m so screwed!” Owen muttered.