(no subject)
May. 12th, 2009 08:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
canonical_insanityTitle: Of Ex-zombies and Time Travellers.
Fandom: Doctor Who (technically it's also a Torchwood crossover, but they are in the same universe)
Characters: Owen Harper, Sixth Doctor, Peri Brown (I know, I suck at threesomes. *shoots self*)
Word Count: 1435 words
Rating: PG-13/12/T
Warnings: Pre-story character death, spoilers to 'Exit Wounds', is probably AU (but you can't prove that Owen didn't suddenly appear on the Sixth Doctor's TARDIS, so it's not impossible that it happened).
He had missed travelling with two people.
With one person, it was easy to become too attached (because everyone eventually left, even the ones that didn't have a lifespan comparable to a mayfly -and Owen usually flinched very slightly every time he used the analogy, for some reason that he hadn't quite managed to figure out- and the more they become dependant on each other, the more it would hurt when they left) and very quickly, that attachment turned into a problem.
One person was not worth the universe.
It was a horrible choice that he (on rare but dreaded occasions) had to make, but no matter how close he could get to a person or how brilliant, special, strange, insane, wonderful that person was, the universe came first. He couldn't play favourites or make exceptions. Sometimes he would be lucky (oh, but how could he call that luck? That was merely the bravery that had driven almost all of his companions, even the ones that no-one would expect bravery from) and the choice would be made by the person before he was forced to make it for them.
With two people, it was easier. They usually had more in common with each other than with him (although that wasn't always the case, since Turlough and Tegan had both been insistent that they had more in common with him, and had both been very vocal about this belief) and therefore bonded better with the other person, meaning that he didn't have to become as attached, that he wasn't the only person that they could talk to about the beautiful and dangerous situation that they'd been unceremoniously thrown into.
Of course, it didn't make it any easier for him to choose the universe over them, but it at least meant that by the time he had finished stalling the galactic dictator/psychotic scientist/amoral corporate executive, one of the companions might have had the opportunity to free the other one, meaning that he didn't have to make that choice.
"The first rule is, all guns are loaded. Second rule, if someone's pointing a gun at you, then you have to expect that they know how to use it. Even if they don't seem the type."
"Like certain doctors that I could mention?"
"Doctors, professors...fuck, in Cardiff, even the bloody teaboys are armed. My point is, don't be afraid to fire first. Shoulder wounds are always good in case you want to ask questions later, head wounds kill pretty much everything that have heads and stomach wounds are good if you want to make them suffer first...not that you would, of course." He amended, with a quick look towards the now fuming Doctor.
"Didn't I already tell you that you were not allowed to carry one of those things inside my TARDIS?"
Owen shrugged. "And I decided that since she looked a little tired of being taken prisoner by every alien species we come across, I'd teach her how to defend herself. You know, since you always seem to be more busy talking your spaceship into not crashing and killing us all."
"She does not get taken prisoner by every alien species. That's an blatant fallacy of an exaggeration."
He ignored Peri's murmur of "not by much" in order to glare down at Owen.
"Guns are a dangerous thing, as you should know by now, young man." He hadn't called anyone that for several regenerations, but it seemed the way to further irritate the human.
"And yet we've got evidence of you using swords as well as that weird screwdriver thing that probably does at least as much damage as a gun. And allegedly you worked with UNIT at some point and I know exactly how hard it is to get those military types to let go of their guns, so you can just stop with the tirade right there, Doctor." He took a breath and continued, "And as a matter of fact, yes, I do know how dangerous guns are, seeing as how at this point I've been shot by nearly half of Wales. And I've patched up the other half." With a glance at the uncharacteristically speechless Doctor, he turned back towards Peri and started telling her about the advice that his firearms teacher, a woman called Suzie, had given him when he'd started Torchwood.
With one final glare aimed at his two companions, the Doctor settled back to assess the situation. He didn't think he would ever like the idea of his assistants using guns (although he would have to allow that, despite his best efforts, he couldn't be everywhere and Peri did display a worrying tendency to get captured) and even though he knew that the newest addition to the TARDIS was trying to help, in his own slightly warped way, the idea that his companions might be trained to use weapons was an alarming thought.
No, that was wrong. He was less worried about them being trained to use weapons and a lot more scared that they'd be used as weapons, either against him or (and his mind can barely get around the thought, but that didn't make it any less terrifying) used by him in order to deal with his enemies.
However, Owen's version of firearm training looked rather less like an agent of an extra-governmental organisation teaching a civilian how to use a deadly weapon, and more like two humans socialising. In fact, if he didn't know better, he'd even go so far as to saying that they were...flirting.
"Okay. How does this look?"
"Your stance isn't that bad, but if you hold the gun like that, the recoil's going to just knock it out of your hands. Here..." and now he was right next to her, his hands on her wrists and the Doctor was about to remind the pair of them that there were three people on the TARDIS...and then Owen took a couple of steps back with a slightly speculating look on his face and the moment was over.
The Doctor had started to get the feeling that between the alien hunting, the shooting and the (probably inevitable) sexual harassment suits, the members of the 'Cardiff branch of the Torchwood Institute' didn't actually get that much time to themselves.
"That'll have to do. Go on."
Peri fired. A cardboard cut-out of a Dalek suddenly had a hole where its eyestalk should be and she gasped, just a little, at the recoil.
"I did it!"
"That's...actually, that's not bad. For a first attempt at least. Moving targets are harder, but I'm not going to try you on those, since the Doctor's not happy about this as it is and I'm not sure I want to be marooned on a barely inhabitable planet in the near future. Besides, you might try and shoot me and I've got more than enough bullet holes already without you adding to them."
"You would think that a top-secret government organisation would be able to afford bullet-proof vests, wouldn't you?" He was thinking aloud and wasn't actually expecting Owen to answer.
"Actually, we spend most of our budget on pizza and beer. And food for Myfanwy, of course."
"Who?"
"Myfanwy? Oh, that's what we call our pet pterodactyl. She...it just came in with Ianto, our teaboy. He shot me once too, while we're on the subject. Of course, I might have deserved it at the time and I did eventually forgive him once I'd finished picking the bullet out of my shoulder."
Owen's reply was more than a little smug, and the Doctor could tell that Peri didn't believe a word of it. It was possible, of course. With a space-time rift running under the city, anything could come through and, if they were supposed to protect the world from what came through, then it was natural that they would keep some of the relics. Which sort of made Torchwood a bizarre and dangerous version of Excise and Customs, if he looked at it like that.
With slightly more propensity for getting shot, in Owen's case.
"You have a pet pterodactyl? As in, dinosaur?"
"Didn't I just say that? Jack set her on...oh, wait, not supposed to tell that story. Almost stepped on a butterfly there." Owen caught himself in time, although the Doctor (and, from the look on her face, Peri as well) wondered exactly what he was about to say before he remembered that, technically, he wasn't just spatially dislocated, but there was also a temporal barrier between them.
Although at this point, the Doctor was starting to get tired of the butterfly metaphors.
Fandom: Doctor Who (technically it's also a Torchwood crossover, but they are in the same universe)
Characters: Owen Harper, Sixth Doctor, Peri Brown (I know, I suck at threesomes. *shoots self*)
Word Count: 1435 words
Rating: PG-13/12/T
Warnings: Pre-story character death, spoilers to 'Exit Wounds', is probably AU (but you can't prove that Owen didn't suddenly appear on the Sixth Doctor's TARDIS, so it's not impossible that it happened).
He had missed travelling with two people.
With one person, it was easy to become too attached (because everyone eventually left, even the ones that didn't have a lifespan comparable to a mayfly -and Owen usually flinched very slightly every time he used the analogy, for some reason that he hadn't quite managed to figure out- and the more they become dependant on each other, the more it would hurt when they left) and very quickly, that attachment turned into a problem.
One person was not worth the universe.
It was a horrible choice that he (on rare but dreaded occasions) had to make, but no matter how close he could get to a person or how brilliant, special, strange, insane, wonderful that person was, the universe came first. He couldn't play favourites or make exceptions. Sometimes he would be lucky (oh, but how could he call that luck? That was merely the bravery that had driven almost all of his companions, even the ones that no-one would expect bravery from) and the choice would be made by the person before he was forced to make it for them.
With two people, it was easier. They usually had more in common with each other than with him (although that wasn't always the case, since Turlough and Tegan had both been insistent that they had more in common with him, and had both been very vocal about this belief) and therefore bonded better with the other person, meaning that he didn't have to become as attached, that he wasn't the only person that they could talk to about the beautiful and dangerous situation that they'd been unceremoniously thrown into.
Of course, it didn't make it any easier for him to choose the universe over them, but it at least meant that by the time he had finished stalling the galactic dictator/psychotic scientist/amoral corporate executive, one of the companions might have had the opportunity to free the other one, meaning that he didn't have to make that choice.
"The first rule is, all guns are loaded. Second rule, if someone's pointing a gun at you, then you have to expect that they know how to use it. Even if they don't seem the type."
"Like certain doctors that I could mention?"
"Doctors, professors...fuck, in Cardiff, even the bloody teaboys are armed. My point is, don't be afraid to fire first. Shoulder wounds are always good in case you want to ask questions later, head wounds kill pretty much everything that have heads and stomach wounds are good if you want to make them suffer first...not that you would, of course." He amended, with a quick look towards the now fuming Doctor.
"Didn't I already tell you that you were not allowed to carry one of those things inside my TARDIS?"
Owen shrugged. "And I decided that since she looked a little tired of being taken prisoner by every alien species we come across, I'd teach her how to defend herself. You know, since you always seem to be more busy talking your spaceship into not crashing and killing us all."
"She does not get taken prisoner by every alien species. That's an blatant fallacy of an exaggeration."
He ignored Peri's murmur of "not by much" in order to glare down at Owen.
"Guns are a dangerous thing, as you should know by now, young man." He hadn't called anyone that for several regenerations, but it seemed the way to further irritate the human.
"And yet we've got evidence of you using swords as well as that weird screwdriver thing that probably does at least as much damage as a gun. And allegedly you worked with UNIT at some point and I know exactly how hard it is to get those military types to let go of their guns, so you can just stop with the tirade right there, Doctor." He took a breath and continued, "And as a matter of fact, yes, I do know how dangerous guns are, seeing as how at this point I've been shot by nearly half of Wales. And I've patched up the other half." With a glance at the uncharacteristically speechless Doctor, he turned back towards Peri and started telling her about the advice that his firearms teacher, a woman called Suzie, had given him when he'd started Torchwood.
With one final glare aimed at his two companions, the Doctor settled back to assess the situation. He didn't think he would ever like the idea of his assistants using guns (although he would have to allow that, despite his best efforts, he couldn't be everywhere and Peri did display a worrying tendency to get captured) and even though he knew that the newest addition to the TARDIS was trying to help, in his own slightly warped way, the idea that his companions might be trained to use weapons was an alarming thought.
No, that was wrong. He was less worried about them being trained to use weapons and a lot more scared that they'd be used as weapons, either against him or (and his mind can barely get around the thought, but that didn't make it any less terrifying) used by him in order to deal with his enemies.
However, Owen's version of firearm training looked rather less like an agent of an extra-governmental organisation teaching a civilian how to use a deadly weapon, and more like two humans socialising. In fact, if he didn't know better, he'd even go so far as to saying that they were...flirting.
"Okay. How does this look?"
"Your stance isn't that bad, but if you hold the gun like that, the recoil's going to just knock it out of your hands. Here..." and now he was right next to her, his hands on her wrists and the Doctor was about to remind the pair of them that there were three people on the TARDIS...and then Owen took a couple of steps back with a slightly speculating look on his face and the moment was over.
The Doctor had started to get the feeling that between the alien hunting, the shooting and the (probably inevitable) sexual harassment suits, the members of the 'Cardiff branch of the Torchwood Institute' didn't actually get that much time to themselves.
"That'll have to do. Go on."
Peri fired. A cardboard cut-out of a Dalek suddenly had a hole where its eyestalk should be and she gasped, just a little, at the recoil.
"I did it!"
"That's...actually, that's not bad. For a first attempt at least. Moving targets are harder, but I'm not going to try you on those, since the Doctor's not happy about this as it is and I'm not sure I want to be marooned on a barely inhabitable planet in the near future. Besides, you might try and shoot me and I've got more than enough bullet holes already without you adding to them."
"You would think that a top-secret government organisation would be able to afford bullet-proof vests, wouldn't you?" He was thinking aloud and wasn't actually expecting Owen to answer.
"Actually, we spend most of our budget on pizza and beer. And food for Myfanwy, of course."
"Who?"
"Myfanwy? Oh, that's what we call our pet pterodactyl. She...it just came in with Ianto, our teaboy. He shot me once too, while we're on the subject. Of course, I might have deserved it at the time and I did eventually forgive him once I'd finished picking the bullet out of my shoulder."
Owen's reply was more than a little smug, and the Doctor could tell that Peri didn't believe a word of it. It was possible, of course. With a space-time rift running under the city, anything could come through and, if they were supposed to protect the world from what came through, then it was natural that they would keep some of the relics. Which sort of made Torchwood a bizarre and dangerous version of Excise and Customs, if he looked at it like that.
With slightly more propensity for getting shot, in Owen's case.
"You have a pet pterodactyl? As in, dinosaur?"
"Didn't I just say that? Jack set her on...oh, wait, not supposed to tell that story. Almost stepped on a butterfly there." Owen caught himself in time, although the Doctor (and, from the look on her face, Peri as well) wondered exactly what he was about to say before he remembered that, technically, he wasn't just spatially dislocated, but there was also a temporal barrier between them.
Although at this point, the Doctor was starting to get tired of the butterfly metaphors.
