[#010] Sloshed (Torchwood)

[badly_knitted]

Theme Prompt: #010 – Overindulgence
Title: Sloshed
Fandom: Torchwood
Rating/Warnings: PG / None
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 919
Summary: When Owen decides to have a few beers at work after a rough day, one of the Hub’s resident aliens winds up getting sloshed too.



Ianto stared in abject horror. “Owen! What in God’s name have you done?”

“What’re you on about now?” Owen opened bleary eyes where he was sprawled untidily on the Hub’s battered old sofa. He’d had one hell of a day, battling to save the life of a seriously injured alien, and he’d succeeded, just barely; the last thing he needed was to get yelled at. Didn’t he deserve to have a beer or six in peace? The long hours of surgery had done him in. He dragged his wandering attention back to Ianto, who was still ranting.

“You’ve spilled your beer on the floor!”

“Damn! I was drinkin’ that. What a waste.”

“A waste? That’s all you have to say?”

“What’s the big deal about a bit of beer on the floor? Easy enough to clean it up, not like it’s blood or anything.”

“Oh, it’s already been very effectively cleaned up,” Ianto said in dire tones. “It’s one thing for you to overindulge in alcohol, you’re used to it, but Dizzy’s only a baby! How many times have I told you to keep all food and drink well out of its reach? It’s too young to know what might be bad for it!”

That finally got through to Owen. “Dizzy?” He shot upright on the sofa and looked around frantically, not that he had to look far. A metre and a half of purple and black furry alien snake creature lay tangled on the floor near his feet, beside what remained of a pool of beer, inadvertently poured out the can Owen had dropped when he’d nodded off. He tried to remember how much had still been in it and groaned, realising it had been almost full. “Oh God. Dizzy?”

The six-week old Flufflet twitched and hiccupped, toppling sideways, an impressive feat considering it was already mostly flat on the ground. Its big, round, violet eyes were glazed and some of its fur matted and sticky where beer had splashed or been dripped onto it.

Owen practically fell off the sofa, kneeling down beside the little alien whose health and welfare were his and Tosh’s responsibility. Tosh was out with Jack and Mickey, helping the crewmates of the injured alien with repairs to their ship. Keeping an eye on Dizzy had been Owen’s responsibility, but he’d screwed that up royally. Now the Flufflet was completely sloshed, all because he hadn’t been paying attention. This didn’t bode well for if he and Tosh ever had kids.

“How the hell do you sober up a Fluff?” Owen carefully picked up the sozzled alien, which had somehow managed to tie itself in several knots, and set about gently untangling it. Dizzy did nothing to resist, just hung limply in his hands, which wasn’t a good sign. Usually it wriggled and squiggled happily whenever it was picked up.

“Don’t you know? You’re the medic.” Ianto followed behind as Owen carried Dizzy to the medical bay, where he ran one of his medical scanners over it. On the plus side, Fluffs were fairly indestructible, immune to most things they might encounter, and there was nothing in beer that of itself would be harmful to the alien in the long term, but overindulgence in alcohol wasn’t good for anyone and it was a safe bet that the Flufflet was going to have a nasty hangover when it sobered up. Making sure it was hydrated would help, so Owen administered water and vitamin C. Dizzy just rolled its eyes and hiccupped.

By now, Nosy, Dizzy’s parent, was in attendance, watching over its offspring and radiating disapproval. At over five and a half metres in length it could be quite intimidating when it wanted to be, but as it was also empathic and knew how bad Owen felt about what had happened, it focused its attention on the youngster. Being a parent was tough, even if you happened to have human childminders to do most of the work.

Nosy knew only too well what it was like to be drunk, having once been accidentally doused in alien wine. Between what had soaked in and what it had licked off its fur it had been so drunk it hadn’t been able to slither in a straight line, weaving erratically all over the place, bumping into things, and nearly knocking its friends over, but the worst part had been later, when even dim light was too bright, everything hurt, including its fur, and just lapping water from its dish had felt like too much of an effort. It hadn’t touched a drop of anything alcoholic since. Hopefully, Dizzy had now learned the same valuable lesson.

Hours later, Dizzy lay on a blanket beside the sofa, looking very sorry for itself. It was still hiccupping occasionally and had its eyes tightly closed against the light. It flinched every time there was a noise. Sitting on the sofa, Owen didn’t look much better. Ianto brought coffee for both of them.

“No more lapping up spills,” he told the Fluffet firmly, getting a faint hum in reply.

“I don’t think it’ll be doing that again,” Owen said glumly. “I know I won’t; if I want to get hammered I’ll go down the pub. It’s one thing indulging my own vices without inflicting them on an innocent creature.” He gazed morosely down at the hungover Flufflet, looking smaller than ever among the folds of the blanket. It would recover, but Owen knew he’d have to be a lot more careful in future.


The End