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fandomweekly2024-04-12 01:53 pm
badly_knitted) wrote in fandomweekly2024-04-12 01:53 pm
Entry tags:
[#216] Cleanup Time (Torchwood)
Theme Prompt: #216 – Meticulous
Title: Cleanup Time
Fandom: Torchwood
Rating/Warnings: PG
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 1000
Summary: Owen isn’t enjoying helping Ianto with cleanup, but it’s an enlightening experience.
To put it mildly, Owen wasn’t thrilled at having been left behind to assist Ianto with the cleanup while the rest of the team headed back to the Hub, especially since the Teaboy was always so finnicky when it came to details.
A rather nasty little alien critter had come through the Rift right in the middle of an elderly suburban couple’s living room while they were watching TV. Fortunately, the Torchwood team had arrived at the scene within fifteen minutes, mostly due to Jack breaking every driving law and speed limit in existence, and they’d been able to deal with the Mushpek while it was still disoriented, which was a better result than anyone had expected. Mushpek were extremely aggressive, carnivorous, and preferred eating their prey while it was still alive, so they’d half-expected to walk into a bloodbath.
As it was, the unwilling hosts had survived the encounter more or less intact, but the room now looked as if a tornado had passed through, with furniture overturned, strands of wiry Mushpek hair all over everything, two houseplants demolished, and the hearthrug shredded beyond recognition. Ianto had already scooped the rug’s remains into a black bag and dealt with the plants, while the homeowners were being retconned into believing a stray cat had come in through the open window and knocked them off the windowsill. That had been the easy part. Now the rest of the room had to be set to rights.
“That armchair belongs over here,” Ianto directed, wielding an alien dust buster to collect more of the shed hair as Owen stood the chair upright. He paused his cleaning with an exasperated huff. “Don’t drag it! You’ll leave marks in the carpet! Lift it!”
“What, I’m a ruddy furniture remover now?”
Ianto put one hand on his hip. “You’re the one who told me I wasn’t to use my arm until it’s fully healed.” A poorly sedated Weevil had regained consciousness too soon the day before and tried to use Ianto’s left arm as a chew toy.
“Fine.” Owen lifted the heavy chair. “Here?”
“No, two inches forward, and an inch to the left.” Ianto squinted at the floor. “Then turn it five degrees clockwise… Another half inch towards me…”
“What the fuck does it matter?”
“There are indentations in the carpet where it usually stands.”
“So what?” Owen gasped; he was getting breathless trying to hold the chair up.
“If it’s not put back in the right place, Mr and Mrs Cranshaw might notice. Okay, set it down, carefully. Now, leaving the left front leg where it is, swivel the rest of the chair a couple more degrees clockwise. Without dragging it!”
“Jeez, I always thought you were a bit anal, but this is ridiculous! There’s such a thing as being too precise, y’know.”
“There’s also such a thing as not being precise enough. You think this job is easy? When carrying out a cleanup like this one, inside someone’s home, precision is important. If the furnishings aren’t in their usual spots, the Cranshaws might start wondering why, then they’ll start trying to figure out how things got moved, and before you know it, they’ll have broken through the retcon and we’ll be right back at square one. You want to have that to deal with?”
Owen pulled a face. “Course not. How’s this?” He shifted the chair slightly, balanced on its left front leg.
“A smidge more.”
“Here?” Owen made a tiny adjustment.
“Yes, that’s good.”
“Thank God for that. Bloody thing’s heavy. What next?”
Ianto wielded his dust buster, cleaning every strand of alien hair off the chair, even under the seat cushion before smiling at his colleague. “Now we have to deal with the sofa.”
“What!?”
“Relax, Owen, I don’t expect you to shift it by yourself, I still have one working arm. You take that end, just make sure to set the legs in their usual spots. I’ll handle this end.”
Between them, they got the sofa back on its feet and into position.
“There, that wasn’t so hard, was it? I usually get to do all this by myself. It’s a lot easier with an extra pair of hands.”
Owen tried to imagine having to clean the scene up by himself but couldn’t. “Sucks to be you.”
“Sometimes,” Ianto agreed, reaching for the dust buster and sucking up more ginger hairs. “The worst are the ones where there’s a lot of blood. Those can take hours, with cleaning products, odour neutralisers…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “This one’s relatively straightforward. We were lucky, getting here so fast, and the living room door was closed so the Mushpek was contained. Imagine if the whole house had been in this state.”
Owen shuddered. “What’ll you do about the hearthrug though? Can’t put the old one back.”
“Oh, we got really lucky there, the Cranshaws only bought it a couple of weeks ago, and it’s a popular pattern, readily available at several local stores. I’ve already sourced a replacement. Tosh said she’d pick it up and bring it over. Should be here with it in about half an hour. With any luck, we’ll be done by then.” Ianto gazed around the room. “Would have been much worse if the TV had been damaged, or if they’d had a bunch on knick knacks on the mantelpiece. People tend to notice if stuff like that goes missing.”
“Yeah, at least the pot plants were easy enough to explain away.”
“The only real problem now is Mrs Cranshaw’s knitting needle,” Ianto mused as he went back to cleaning. “I have no way of knowing if it was already bent before she tried to stab the Mushpek with it. I’ll just have to hope she won’t notice that I swapped the bent one with an identical one from her knitting bag. She’s got a lot of odd needles though.”
Watching his colleague work, Owen realised there was a lot more to cleanup than he’d ever imagined.
The End
A rather nasty little alien critter had come through the Rift right in the middle of an elderly suburban couple’s living room while they were watching TV. Fortunately, the Torchwood team had arrived at the scene within fifteen minutes, mostly due to Jack breaking every driving law and speed limit in existence, and they’d been able to deal with the Mushpek while it was still disoriented, which was a better result than anyone had expected. Mushpek were extremely aggressive, carnivorous, and preferred eating their prey while it was still alive, so they’d half-expected to walk into a bloodbath.
As it was, the unwilling hosts had survived the encounter more or less intact, but the room now looked as if a tornado had passed through, with furniture overturned, strands of wiry Mushpek hair all over everything, two houseplants demolished, and the hearthrug shredded beyond recognition. Ianto had already scooped the rug’s remains into a black bag and dealt with the plants, while the homeowners were being retconned into believing a stray cat had come in through the open window and knocked them off the windowsill. That had been the easy part. Now the rest of the room had to be set to rights.
“That armchair belongs over here,” Ianto directed, wielding an alien dust buster to collect more of the shed hair as Owen stood the chair upright. He paused his cleaning with an exasperated huff. “Don’t drag it! You’ll leave marks in the carpet! Lift it!”
“What, I’m a ruddy furniture remover now?”
Ianto put one hand on his hip. “You’re the one who told me I wasn’t to use my arm until it’s fully healed.” A poorly sedated Weevil had regained consciousness too soon the day before and tried to use Ianto’s left arm as a chew toy.
“Fine.” Owen lifted the heavy chair. “Here?”
“No, two inches forward, and an inch to the left.” Ianto squinted at the floor. “Then turn it five degrees clockwise… Another half inch towards me…”
“What the fuck does it matter?”
“There are indentations in the carpet where it usually stands.”
“So what?” Owen gasped; he was getting breathless trying to hold the chair up.
“If it’s not put back in the right place, Mr and Mrs Cranshaw might notice. Okay, set it down, carefully. Now, leaving the left front leg where it is, swivel the rest of the chair a couple more degrees clockwise. Without dragging it!”
“Jeez, I always thought you were a bit anal, but this is ridiculous! There’s such a thing as being too precise, y’know.”
“There’s also such a thing as not being precise enough. You think this job is easy? When carrying out a cleanup like this one, inside someone’s home, precision is important. If the furnishings aren’t in their usual spots, the Cranshaws might start wondering why, then they’ll start trying to figure out how things got moved, and before you know it, they’ll have broken through the retcon and we’ll be right back at square one. You want to have that to deal with?”
Owen pulled a face. “Course not. How’s this?” He shifted the chair slightly, balanced on its left front leg.
“A smidge more.”
“Here?” Owen made a tiny adjustment.
“Yes, that’s good.”
“Thank God for that. Bloody thing’s heavy. What next?”
Ianto wielded his dust buster, cleaning every strand of alien hair off the chair, even under the seat cushion before smiling at his colleague. “Now we have to deal with the sofa.”
“What!?”
“Relax, Owen, I don’t expect you to shift it by yourself, I still have one working arm. You take that end, just make sure to set the legs in their usual spots. I’ll handle this end.”
Between them, they got the sofa back on its feet and into position.
“There, that wasn’t so hard, was it? I usually get to do all this by myself. It’s a lot easier with an extra pair of hands.”
Owen tried to imagine having to clean the scene up by himself but couldn’t. “Sucks to be you.”
“Sometimes,” Ianto agreed, reaching for the dust buster and sucking up more ginger hairs. “The worst are the ones where there’s a lot of blood. Those can take hours, with cleaning products, odour neutralisers…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “This one’s relatively straightforward. We were lucky, getting here so fast, and the living room door was closed so the Mushpek was contained. Imagine if the whole house had been in this state.”
Owen shuddered. “What’ll you do about the hearthrug though? Can’t put the old one back.”
“Oh, we got really lucky there, the Cranshaws only bought it a couple of weeks ago, and it’s a popular pattern, readily available at several local stores. I’ve already sourced a replacement. Tosh said she’d pick it up and bring it over. Should be here with it in about half an hour. With any luck, we’ll be done by then.” Ianto gazed around the room. “Would have been much worse if the TV had been damaged, or if they’d had a bunch on knick knacks on the mantelpiece. People tend to notice if stuff like that goes missing.”
“Yeah, at least the pot plants were easy enough to explain away.”
“The only real problem now is Mrs Cranshaw’s knitting needle,” Ianto mused as he went back to cleaning. “I have no way of knowing if it was already bent before she tried to stab the Mushpek with it. I’ll just have to hope she won’t notice that I swapped the bent one with an identical one from her knitting bag. She’s got a lot of odd needles though.”
Watching his colleague work, Owen realised there was a lot more to cleanup than he’d ever imagined.
The End
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