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fandomweekly2026-01-26 12:54 pm
m_findlow) wrote in fandomweekly2026-01-26 12:54 pm
Entry tags:
[#288] THE NOSE KNOWS (TORCHWOOD)
Theme Prompt: #288 - Inconveniences
Title: The nose knows
Fandom: Torchwood
Rating/Warnings: PG.
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 1,000 words
Summary: Jack just wanted a quiet afternoon to indulge in nothing at all.
Jack grunted as his phone rang. He was halfway through a bag of hot jam donuts, enjoying them in the solitude of the SUV. When he saw who was calling he punched a button on the SUV’s dash, putting it on speaker. ‘Yuh,’ he said, forcing the word around a whole lot of half chewed pastry before swallowing, wincing as the unchewed lump forced its way down a pipe that wasn't built for size.
‘Did you just answer the phone with a mouthful of food? It was donuts, wasn't it?’
It was scary how well Ianto knew him, just from the way he answered the phone. ‘I was hungry. I skipped lunch.’ He paused to suck some of the sugar crystals from his fingers.
‘Well, we can't have you fading away, can we?’
‘Is there a reason for this call or did you just miss me that much?’ Jack pried open the paper bag in his lap, considering whether he could make inroads on the next donut whilst he was still on the phone.
‘Need you to go finish up checking out the houses on Bricklayer Lane. Still haven't been able to pinpoint why we're getting weird readings from that part of Riverside.’
Jack picked out a donut, all golden brown and glistening with sugar, taking a bite and hitting jam straight away. ‘Didn't we have someone on that already?’
‘Yes, and they just called in with a bout of gastro, so someone else needs to take over.’
Jack groaned at the idea of door to doors. ‘Ianto, that's minion work.’
‘And you're my minion.’
‘I'm your husband,’ Jack reminded him. He didn't like it when Ianto pulled rank.
‘They're one and the same, aren't they?’ came the teasing replying. ‘Now go, minion. Go find me some alien treasure.’
Jack rolled his eyes in a way that would have made Ianto proud and tossed his uneaten donut bag in the bag with its friends. ‘Whatever you say, boss.’
This was so far beneath his capabilities, Jack thought as he leaned on the doorbell of the white painted door. He rapped the brass mailbox flap while he was at it, until a hunched lady with gunmetal grey curls and a red cardigan finally opened the door.
‘Detective Inspector Jack Harkness,’ Jack said without even flashing a fake warrant card. ‘Are you aware there's been a number of break-ins in the area recently?’
Her eyes bugged behind fat round spectacles. ‘Gosh, no. How terrible!’
‘As part of community protection we'd like to offer a routine inspection of your property to check for signs of attempted entry and help residents safeguard their homes.’ Anything that would get him inside and able to have a good poke around would work, but people generally didn't say no to the police unless they had something to hide.
The old lady chewed her lip. ‘Well, if you think it'll help you catch the crooks…’
‘At least let us check all your locks are in good order.’ He could already tell this was a bust. The sooner he could give the place the once over the sooner he could be gone.
She nodded. ‘Alright. You come on through and I'll pop the kettle on and make us a nice cup of tea.’
Jack squeezed past her in the narrow hallway, his eyes twitching like the place was full of dust even though it looked clean. It got into his nose and twitched there too. Probably been living here for decades. Place could be a museum piece.
‘I should check your yard and back locks first,’ he told her, eyes beginning to feel scratchy. He blinked. ‘Do you own a cat, ma'am?’ They sent his allergies into a tailspin.
‘No,’ she replied. ‘Do you take milk and sugar?’
‘Just milk,’ he said, eyes watering hard. ‘Are you sure you don't have a cat around here? Maybe a stray?’
‘Oh no, dear. It's just me here on my own.’
‘I–’ his sentence was interrupted by a sneeze.
‘Have you got a cold, dear?’
‘Allergies,’ he replied, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket.
‘Do you collect stamps, Inspector?’
‘No ma'am. But I do have a scrapbook full of broken hearts.’ He smiled, showing off a wide band of pearly whites but she just frowned and stared off into the distance.
‘Pity. I do love to chat about stamps. I've got quite the collection from Denmark that's very interesting. If you're into that sort of thing.’
Damn. His charm offensive was really taking a beating today. Not to mention his face going into full allergy meltdown. She must've had eighty cats hidden here somewhere.
He went outside and checked the yard. It was a relief on his senses, but no sooner did he come back inside, then his sneezes started up again.
‘Dear, you really should see a doctor about that,’ she said, carrying a tray with cups and biscuits towards him. The steam sent a wave of irritation at him and he blinked. It wasn't cats or dust. It was her.
‘You,’ Jack said, reaching for his Webley, but before he could wrap his hand around it the tray of tea was flung at him, scalding water hitting him as he crouched away reflexively. Then something came from nowhere and clubbed him from behind, twinkling stars descending into blackness.
‘Ow…’ Jack groaned as he curled over on his side, feeling the huge welt on his head and seeing double visions of a rolling pin on the hallway floor beside him. Knocked out by a little old lady. Great.
He checked the house, stumbling around, but she was gone. So were his allergies. Shapeshifter, he surmised. Or a body snatcher. And now it was gone. A new face and a new place to hide. Their systems might take weeks to locate it again. Ianto would be pissed. So much for a nice simple task. This was the last time he agreed to do someone else's job. Knocking on doors was for schmucks.
Title: The nose knows
Fandom: Torchwood
Rating/Warnings: PG.
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 1,000 words
Summary: Jack just wanted a quiet afternoon to indulge in nothing at all.
Jack grunted as his phone rang. He was halfway through a bag of hot jam donuts, enjoying them in the solitude of the SUV. When he saw who was calling he punched a button on the SUV’s dash, putting it on speaker. ‘Yuh,’ he said, forcing the word around a whole lot of half chewed pastry before swallowing, wincing as the unchewed lump forced its way down a pipe that wasn't built for size.
‘Did you just answer the phone with a mouthful of food? It was donuts, wasn't it?’
It was scary how well Ianto knew him, just from the way he answered the phone. ‘I was hungry. I skipped lunch.’ He paused to suck some of the sugar crystals from his fingers.
‘Well, we can't have you fading away, can we?’
‘Is there a reason for this call or did you just miss me that much?’ Jack pried open the paper bag in his lap, considering whether he could make inroads on the next donut whilst he was still on the phone.
‘Need you to go finish up checking out the houses on Bricklayer Lane. Still haven't been able to pinpoint why we're getting weird readings from that part of Riverside.’
Jack picked out a donut, all golden brown and glistening with sugar, taking a bite and hitting jam straight away. ‘Didn't we have someone on that already?’
‘Yes, and they just called in with a bout of gastro, so someone else needs to take over.’
Jack groaned at the idea of door to doors. ‘Ianto, that's minion work.’
‘And you're my minion.’
‘I'm your husband,’ Jack reminded him. He didn't like it when Ianto pulled rank.
‘They're one and the same, aren't they?’ came the teasing replying. ‘Now go, minion. Go find me some alien treasure.’
Jack rolled his eyes in a way that would have made Ianto proud and tossed his uneaten donut bag in the bag with its friends. ‘Whatever you say, boss.’
This was so far beneath his capabilities, Jack thought as he leaned on the doorbell of the white painted door. He rapped the brass mailbox flap while he was at it, until a hunched lady with gunmetal grey curls and a red cardigan finally opened the door.
‘Detective Inspector Jack Harkness,’ Jack said without even flashing a fake warrant card. ‘Are you aware there's been a number of break-ins in the area recently?’
Her eyes bugged behind fat round spectacles. ‘Gosh, no. How terrible!’
‘As part of community protection we'd like to offer a routine inspection of your property to check for signs of attempted entry and help residents safeguard their homes.’ Anything that would get him inside and able to have a good poke around would work, but people generally didn't say no to the police unless they had something to hide.
The old lady chewed her lip. ‘Well, if you think it'll help you catch the crooks…’
‘At least let us check all your locks are in good order.’ He could already tell this was a bust. The sooner he could give the place the once over the sooner he could be gone.
She nodded. ‘Alright. You come on through and I'll pop the kettle on and make us a nice cup of tea.’
Jack squeezed past her in the narrow hallway, his eyes twitching like the place was full of dust even though it looked clean. It got into his nose and twitched there too. Probably been living here for decades. Place could be a museum piece.
‘I should check your yard and back locks first,’ he told her, eyes beginning to feel scratchy. He blinked. ‘Do you own a cat, ma'am?’ They sent his allergies into a tailspin.
‘No,’ she replied. ‘Do you take milk and sugar?’
‘Just milk,’ he said, eyes watering hard. ‘Are you sure you don't have a cat around here? Maybe a stray?’
‘Oh no, dear. It's just me here on my own.’
‘I–’ his sentence was interrupted by a sneeze.
‘Have you got a cold, dear?’
‘Allergies,’ he replied, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket.
‘Do you collect stamps, Inspector?’
‘No ma'am. But I do have a scrapbook full of broken hearts.’ He smiled, showing off a wide band of pearly whites but she just frowned and stared off into the distance.
‘Pity. I do love to chat about stamps. I've got quite the collection from Denmark that's very interesting. If you're into that sort of thing.’
Damn. His charm offensive was really taking a beating today. Not to mention his face going into full allergy meltdown. She must've had eighty cats hidden here somewhere.
He went outside and checked the yard. It was a relief on his senses, but no sooner did he come back inside, then his sneezes started up again.
‘Dear, you really should see a doctor about that,’ she said, carrying a tray with cups and biscuits towards him. The steam sent a wave of irritation at him and he blinked. It wasn't cats or dust. It was her.
‘You,’ Jack said, reaching for his Webley, but before he could wrap his hand around it the tray of tea was flung at him, scalding water hitting him as he crouched away reflexively. Then something came from nowhere and clubbed him from behind, twinkling stars descending into blackness.
‘Ow…’ Jack groaned as he curled over on his side, feeling the huge welt on his head and seeing double visions of a rolling pin on the hallway floor beside him. Knocked out by a little old lady. Great.
He checked the house, stumbling around, but she was gone. So were his allergies. Shapeshifter, he surmised. Or a body snatcher. And now it was gone. A new face and a new place to hide. Their systems might take weeks to locate it again. Ianto would be pissed. So much for a nice simple task. This was the last time he agreed to do someone else's job. Knocking on doors was for schmucks.