badly_knitted (badly_knitted) wrote,
badly_knitted
badly_knitted

Ficlet: Good Intentions

Title: Good Intentions
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Owen, Ianto, Nosy.
Rating: G
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Owen is in an even worse mood than usual.
Word Count: 704
Written For: fhionnuisce’s prompt ‘Any any, "It ate everything!", at fic_promptly.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters. They belong to the BBC.




Owen was clearly not a happy bunny, judging by the scowl on his face, the waving arms, and the incoherent yelling echoing throughout the Hub. Ianto hesitated, debating whether or not to intervene, but then reluctantly decided perhaps he ought to find out what had put the medic in such a foul mood, if only in the hopes of shutting him up.


“Yell a bit louder, why don’t you,” he said, leaning on the railing overlooking the autopsy bay. “I don’t think they can hear you in Swansea.”


“Har har, think you’re a comedian, don’t you?” Owen turned his scowl on Ianto, but at least he wasn’t shouting anymore, which to Ianto’s mind was an improvement. Not much of one, granted, but it was a start.


“I have my moments,” Ianto replied blithely. “Care to tell me what all the yelling was about?”


“I put my lunch right there on my desk, went to get a can of Red Bull from the fridge, and while I was gone, your friend there ate everything! My cheese sarnie, my bag of crisps, my cream puff, even my orange! Didn’t even leave the peel!”


Ianto stared expressionlessly at Owen, then directed his gaze towards the guilty party, who wasn’t looking particularly guilty. Instead, it looked quite pleased with itself. He returned his attention to Owen. “Firstly, how many times do I have to tell you not to leave food unattended? Secondly… Cheese? Crisps? Cream cake? You’re not supposed to be eating any of those things; your medical last week showed you had high blood pressure and high cholesterol. As I recall, Martha gave you a strict diet to stick to; low fat, and absolutely no salt allowed.”


Owen shuffled his feet, realising he’d been caught out. “Yeah, well, it’s boring, all fruit and nuts, and raw veg. A man can’t live on that stuff, felt like I was turning into a rabbit! I needed some real food.” He glared at the lunch thief. “Not that I got any.”


“Oh come on, Owen! Your diet’s not that strict! Although, you should definitely eat more fruit and veg, and as for nuts, they’re packed with healthy minerals and fibre.”


“Not the point!” Owen thrust a finger in Nosy’s direction. “For the first time in a week I was really looking forward to my lunch, but that overgrown draught excluder scoffed every last crumb! How is that fair?”


“It was just trying to help you stick to your diet, Owen.” Ianto regarded the Fluff. “Nice work, but you could’ve left him the orange,” he told Nosy. “He’s allowed those.”


Nosy hummed apologetically.


“Although, after all that other stuff I would have needed a palate cleanser too. Wasn’t the peel on the bitter side though?”


“Hum,” Nosy disagreed.


“All a matter of taste, I suppose. Fancy a coffee?”


“HUMMMMM!” That was a definite yes.


“Okay then. Come on, I’ll make some.” Ianto sauntered leisurely towards the small kitchen area, hands in his pockets, as Nosy slithered up the stairs to join him.


“Hey! What about my lunch?” Owen asked incredulously.


“There’s salad in the fridge, bags of nuts in the cupboard, and plenty of fresh fruit. Help yourself,” Ianto threw back over his shoulder. “Just don’t touch the cheese; I’ll know if you do. And you should try those cholesterol-lowering yoghurts I bought for you.”


Muttering to himself about ‘food police’, Owen stomped up the stairs in Nosy’s wake and slouched over to the fridge to find something to eat. Nosy watched intently as he fixed himself a sandwich using brown bread, low-fat spread, and a bunch of salad stuff before grabbing another orange and a banana and stalking back to the autopsy bay.


As soon as Owen had gone, Ianto turned to Nosy. “While I applaud your initiative, maybe you should let him have an occasional treat. He’ll get crankier than ever otherwise. Besides, you need to watch your weight; can’t have you getting too fat to slither.”


Nosy gave the Fluff equivalent of a shrug as Ianto went back to making coffee. If it got a little chubby, it would simply exercise more. It was a small price to pay for helping to keep its friends in good health.



The End










Tags: fic, fic: g, fic: one-shot, fic_promptly, ficlet, ianto jones, nosy, nosy-verse, owen harper, torchwood fic
Subscribe
  • Post a new comment

    Error

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.
  • 2 comments