Characters: Owen, Ianto.
Written For: Challenge 460: Mud at tw100.
Summary: A retrieval out in the muddy countryside has Owen even crankier than usual.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: This one’s a double drabble.
“You’ve got to be kidding!” The horrified disgust in Owen’s voice made Ianto want to laugh, but he managed to maintain an expression of bland indifference.
“You routinely spend your days up to your elbows in alien corpses, yet you’re put off by a bit of mud?” he asked mildly, raising one eyebrow.
Owen glared at him, eyeing Ianto’s smart suit up and down. “You’re one to talk, Mister Fastidious. I suppose you’ll just stand on the sidelines while I wade through the mud to retrieve whatever that is,” he sneered, pointing across the muddy field at the incongruously bright yellow thing sticking out of the sea of brown.
“On the contrary.” Ianto opened the SUV’s boot, pulling out a set of waders designed for fly-fishing. Removing his shoes, he stepped into them and adjusted the shoulder straps for comfort. “The difference is, I came prepared.”
Owen’s scowl deepened as he looked from Ianto’s protective gear to his own jeans and trainers. “Terrific.”
Taking pity on the medic, Ianto dug in the boot again. “Not to worry, I brought you some wellies.” He pulled out a pair of luridly pink boots.
“Bastard,” Owen muttered, knowing he’d have to wear them.