Title: Truly, Madly, Bradley
Characters: Jack, Gwen, Owen, Team, OMC Bradley
Summary: A piece of alien tech falls into the wrong hands, leading to an unusual problem
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: For the prompt ‘Sadly, Madly, Bradley’, one of the prompts I didn’t get around to using for tw100’s challenge 288 last year. I’ve dug them out again to supplement the prompts I got from my f-list, just because there are still loads I wanted to use. This one ended up as a triple drabble.
Bradley Evans was pretty much like most other teenaged boys. He was passionate about rugby, like any sensible Welsh bloke, found girls both fascinating and baffling, which was why he hadn’t found the courage to ask Amy Fisher out yet, and he’d far rather goof off than do homework.
So, he was a perfectly normal boy until the day he found a strange object on his way home from school. It was sort of like a Rubik’s cube but not. It had nine sides with nine flashing lights on each side and its shape made it difficult to look at.
Naturally, Bradley was immediately hooked. He sauntered down the road, pressing different combinations of buttons, until suddenly the thing beeped, all the lights turned blue, and looking up, Bradley fell head over heels in love.
Across town, Torchwood had picked up a small Rift spike and set out to investigate. Anytime the Rift deposited something in a populated area, there was a chance it would be discovered by an one of Cardiff’s citizens, and that was clearly what had happened on this occasion as when the reached the coordinates of the Rift spike, the object was nowhere to be found.
It took precious time to track their target from its point of arrival to its current position, so when they caught up with Bradley it was already too late.
“Oh dear,” said Jack, caught between concern and amusement, “we may have a slight problem.”
“Why? What is it?” asked Gwen.
“Nifty little device. It’s used to store emotions and play them back, but they’re very sensitive. If you press the wrong combination of buttons, the effects can be unpredictable.”
“No kidding,” groused Owen. “Any suggestions on what to do with a kid who’s fallen in love with a lamp post?”