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fandomweekly2025-04-11 06:17 pm
badly_knitted) wrote in fandomweekly2025-04-11 06:17 pm
Entry tags:
[#256] Herman The Hero (Torchwood)
Theme Prompt: #256 – Man's Best Friend
Title: Herman The Hero
Fandom: Torchwood
Rating/Warnings: PG
Bonus: No
Word Count: 1000
Summary: Some people think a dog is man’s best friend, but a dragon can be even better, as Herman is happy to prove.
Torchwood didn’t exactly have regular working hours, so tonight, even though it was after midnight, everyone was still at the Hub. Well, except for Jack, who’d taken advantage of a lull in Rift activity to take Herman the dragon for his evening constitutional.
One of these days, Ianto would have to ask Tosh if she could create a perception filter Herman could wear on his collar when out walking with Jack so that instead of an orange dragon, people would see a dog about the size of a husky… Then Jack wouldn’t have to wait until the early hours to take Herman out for some exercise, and he wouldn’t have to restrict himself to the shadowy areas around the docks.
Not that Herman seemed to mind, he was happy to chase rats, and the occasional feral cat. He was probably easier to please than the average dog, a very laidback and accepting creature, but very muscular, and therefore a lot stronger than most dogs. Jack had been working on training him though, teaching him to come to heel on command, and that seemed to be going well.
Tonight, man and dragon had been gone about twenty minutes, and the rest of the team were up in the Tourist Office, getting ready to head home since it looked like the Rift was finally quieting down. All except Ianto, who would be staying overnight at the Hub, were putting their coats on, checking they had everything they needed, and saying their goodnights when there was a scuffling, scratching sound outside the door. Frowning and drawing his gun, Ianto went to investigate, keeping the automatic out of sight, down by his side, as he cracked the door open. Then he relaxed, opening the door wider and stepping back as he recognised a certain dragon of his acquaintance.
“Cut your walk short this evening, have you?” he asked, looking from the dragon to where he expected Jack to be, only… Jack wasn’t there. Ianto’s frown returned, deeper than before. “What are you doing back here by yourself? Did you slip your lead?”
“ROWR!” Herman replied in an urgent, if rather muffled, tone of voice.
Ianto raised an eyebrow. “What’s that in your mouth? Give it to me.”
Obediently, Herman dropped the object at Ianto’s feet, flapping his stumpy wings and hopping on the spot as if trying to take to the air, which was impossible since Herman was too solidly built to fly. Ianto had often wondered why the dragon had wings at all. Perhaps he’d come from a planet with much lower gravity…
“Oh my God!” Gwen gasped, eyes wide with horror. “It’s Jack’s foot! Herman’s eaten Jack! He must be saving that bit for later! We might be next! I always knew it was a bad idea to keep a dragon as a pet!”
Owen snorted. “Don’t be an idiot, Cooper! If Herman was goin’ to eat anyone, it’d be someone he likes a lot less than Jack. You, for instance. Anyway, it’s just an old, empty boot, no foot in it. Herman probably just found it.”
“It is one of Jack’s though, and it looks like there’s blood on it.” Ianto straightened up, holding the boot, choosing not to mention that there were also quite deep toothmarks in the sturdy leather. Herman must have tugged it off Jack’s foot and brought it back to the Hub. Or perhaps he’d been trying to drag Jack home by his foot and the boot had slipped off. Either way, to Ianto’s mind it could only mean one thing: Jack had run into trouble and was either dead or injured.
Not bothering with his own coat, Ianto handed the boot to Tosh, checked his gun, scooped up the end of Herman’s lead in his free hand, and glanced back at the team.
“What’re you lot waiting for? Jack’s in trouble. Could be they ran into a pack of Weevils, but whatever the case, it was more than they could handle.” He turned back to Herman. “Okay, lead the way.”
Herman almost pulled him off his feet, and Ianto had to break into a run to keep his arm from being wrenched out of its socket. Seeming to notice, Herman slowed a little, keeping to a pace Ianto could manage as the rest of the team got their brains in gear and followed. Tosh, still clutching Jack’s boot, left her bag on the counter, grabbed a torch, and headed after her friends, locking the Tourist Office door behind her.
The rescue party, led by the dragon, made straight for the docks off the inner harbour, guns at the ready since they had no idea what they might encounter. Rats were a given, but no one was bothered about them. Weevils could be a bigger problem, but with the whole team present and armed, they could be dealt with. There was no guarantee it WAS Weevils, however. Jack might have encountered the advance scouts for an invasion, or a Hoix, or something worse… Ianto thought they’d rounded up everything that had come through the Rift over the past few hours, but there was always a chance they’d missed something.
It turned out to be a gang of Blowfish. They’d caught Jack unawares, knocked him out, tied him up, and by the time the team arrived at the warehouse they were using as a base, they were interrogating Jack for the Torchwood access codes. Not that they were having any luck.
Four Blowfish were no match for four armed and angry humans, and one extremely irate dragon. The team burst through the doors, guns blazing; Jack could be mad at them later for shooting the Blowfish instead of taking them into custody, but for all any of them knew, there might be more of the aliens than were immediately visible, so they shot to kill. It was over in moments.
“Are you alright?” Ianto asked.
“I’ll live. Thanks for the rescue.”
“Thank Herman. He’s the real hero.”
“Rowr!”
The End
One of these days, Ianto would have to ask Tosh if she could create a perception filter Herman could wear on his collar when out walking with Jack so that instead of an orange dragon, people would see a dog about the size of a husky… Then Jack wouldn’t have to wait until the early hours to take Herman out for some exercise, and he wouldn’t have to restrict himself to the shadowy areas around the docks.
Not that Herman seemed to mind, he was happy to chase rats, and the occasional feral cat. He was probably easier to please than the average dog, a very laidback and accepting creature, but very muscular, and therefore a lot stronger than most dogs. Jack had been working on training him though, teaching him to come to heel on command, and that seemed to be going well.
Tonight, man and dragon had been gone about twenty minutes, and the rest of the team were up in the Tourist Office, getting ready to head home since it looked like the Rift was finally quieting down. All except Ianto, who would be staying overnight at the Hub, were putting their coats on, checking they had everything they needed, and saying their goodnights when there was a scuffling, scratching sound outside the door. Frowning and drawing his gun, Ianto went to investigate, keeping the automatic out of sight, down by his side, as he cracked the door open. Then he relaxed, opening the door wider and stepping back as he recognised a certain dragon of his acquaintance.
“Cut your walk short this evening, have you?” he asked, looking from the dragon to where he expected Jack to be, only… Jack wasn’t there. Ianto’s frown returned, deeper than before. “What are you doing back here by yourself? Did you slip your lead?”
“ROWR!” Herman replied in an urgent, if rather muffled, tone of voice.
Ianto raised an eyebrow. “What’s that in your mouth? Give it to me.”
Obediently, Herman dropped the object at Ianto’s feet, flapping his stumpy wings and hopping on the spot as if trying to take to the air, which was impossible since Herman was too solidly built to fly. Ianto had often wondered why the dragon had wings at all. Perhaps he’d come from a planet with much lower gravity…
“Oh my God!” Gwen gasped, eyes wide with horror. “It’s Jack’s foot! Herman’s eaten Jack! He must be saving that bit for later! We might be next! I always knew it was a bad idea to keep a dragon as a pet!”
Owen snorted. “Don’t be an idiot, Cooper! If Herman was goin’ to eat anyone, it’d be someone he likes a lot less than Jack. You, for instance. Anyway, it’s just an old, empty boot, no foot in it. Herman probably just found it.”
“It is one of Jack’s though, and it looks like there’s blood on it.” Ianto straightened up, holding the boot, choosing not to mention that there were also quite deep toothmarks in the sturdy leather. Herman must have tugged it off Jack’s foot and brought it back to the Hub. Or perhaps he’d been trying to drag Jack home by his foot and the boot had slipped off. Either way, to Ianto’s mind it could only mean one thing: Jack had run into trouble and was either dead or injured.
Not bothering with his own coat, Ianto handed the boot to Tosh, checked his gun, scooped up the end of Herman’s lead in his free hand, and glanced back at the team.
“What’re you lot waiting for? Jack’s in trouble. Could be they ran into a pack of Weevils, but whatever the case, it was more than they could handle.” He turned back to Herman. “Okay, lead the way.”
Herman almost pulled him off his feet, and Ianto had to break into a run to keep his arm from being wrenched out of its socket. Seeming to notice, Herman slowed a little, keeping to a pace Ianto could manage as the rest of the team got their brains in gear and followed. Tosh, still clutching Jack’s boot, left her bag on the counter, grabbed a torch, and headed after her friends, locking the Tourist Office door behind her.
The rescue party, led by the dragon, made straight for the docks off the inner harbour, guns at the ready since they had no idea what they might encounter. Rats were a given, but no one was bothered about them. Weevils could be a bigger problem, but with the whole team present and armed, they could be dealt with. There was no guarantee it WAS Weevils, however. Jack might have encountered the advance scouts for an invasion, or a Hoix, or something worse… Ianto thought they’d rounded up everything that had come through the Rift over the past few hours, but there was always a chance they’d missed something.
It turned out to be a gang of Blowfish. They’d caught Jack unawares, knocked him out, tied him up, and by the time the team arrived at the warehouse they were using as a base, they were interrogating Jack for the Torchwood access codes. Not that they were having any luck.
Four Blowfish were no match for four armed and angry humans, and one extremely irate dragon. The team burst through the doors, guns blazing; Jack could be mad at them later for shooting the Blowfish instead of taking them into custody, but for all any of them knew, there might be more of the aliens than were immediately visible, so they shot to kill. It was over in moments.
“Are you alright?” Ianto asked.
“I’ll live. Thanks for the rescue.”
“Thank Herman. He’s the real hero.”
“Rowr!”
The End
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