Characters: Ianto, alien.
Written For: Challenge 665: Hollow at tw100.
Summary: Ianto is faced with a bit of a problem.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Double drabble.
After almost two hours of scouring an area alongside the coast road a few miles from Cardiff, Ianto finally tracked down what had come through the Rift. It was nestled comfortably in a cosy hollow among the dunes, and when he approached, it hissed at him.
“Ah. Hello there. Tosh didn’t say anything about you being alive.”
Usually, with all the varied detection software the tech genius had added to her Rift monitors, the basics of any new arrival could be quickly determined so that whoever went to retrieve the item would have some idea of what they were dealing with: Animal, vegetable, or mineral, living or inanimate, and whether or not it was likely to explode. This time, he’d been told mineral.
Ianto looked at the creature, which was surrounded by fragments of something that looked suspiciously like eggshell. That explained the inaccurate readings; it must have hatched soon after arrival.
“Now what am I going to do with you? Can’t leave you here; it’s not safe. If I could just get you in here…” He scraped some sand into the containment box he’d brought with him. “How’s that?”
The alien blew a raspberry at him.
“Everyone’s a critic.”