Day 9
Title: Item Eight
Rating: PG
Prompt: Bats
Warnings: Random quick-fic?
Word Count: 970
Author's Notes: I'm not quite sure what's wrong with my brain at the moment. It'll be fine...
Item Eight
“Good work,” Jack said, as Tosh finished her report and sat back down. “Keep us posted.”
He looked back down at the agenda Ianto had provided for them all, and turned the page.
“Now...”
He paused, blinked at the paper, then looked up at Ianto.
“What do you mean, infestation in the Archives? Why isn’t this higher on the agenda?”
Owen inhaled the sip of coffee he’d been taking, and choked quietly while Gwen thumped his back. Jack ignored them both in favour of staring at Ianto. It was a fun pastime, in any case.
“When I say infestation,” Ianto said slowly, “it’s not really something you have to worry about. It’s terrestrial. They’re not interfering with the systems, and I’ve moved everything out of their vicinity so they’re no danger to the files. I’m more worried about the colony than...”
“What are they?” Jack insisted, with growing suspicion.
Ianto hesitated for a brief moment, then said guiltily, “Bats.”
Jack shoved his chair back from the table, face creased in disgust as he repeated, “Bats?”
Gwen, he noted, was looking just as horrified - enough to pause while Owen kept choking.
“Yes, sir, bats,” Ianto confirmed. “And I’m concerned that some of the devices we have in storage might be dangerous to them, never mind what damage we could do through any use of the Rift Manipulator, or even some of our standard procedures -”
“They’re bats, Ianto,” Jack told him, since he was clearly missing the point. “Mice with wings! Disease-ridden pests that suck your blood and get tangled in your hair!”
Gwen flinched.
“Actually, these are pipistrelles, not vampire bats,” Ianto told him. “So they’re doing a great job getting rid of insects. And your hair’s too short for them to get tangled in it, even if they did hit you.”
“Mine’s not!” Gwen protested, but Tosh said nothing.
Owen gasped in a breath and braced both hands against the table, panting.
“They have to go,” Jack was saying firmly. “I can’t have them here. They’ll -”
“I quite agree,” Ianto told him. “We have to move them somewhere. I’d like to hear your suggestions for a new roost and possible methods of transportation. Sir.”
Jack paused, and stared at him again.
“How do you normally do it?”
“You contact the proper authorities,” Ianto said, “and they send a team around to assess the situation, and find an appropriate solution. For obvious reasons, we can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
Ianto blinked at him, and said, “Which part of secret underground base is presenting you with difficulty, sir?”
“We can Retcon them afterwards,” Jack said airily. “As long as they get rid of those things, what does it matter?”
Ianto took a deliberate breath, exhibiting every sign of having to keep his temper under control.
“They’ll have to fill out God knows how many forms and it won’t be done in the space of a day,” he said. “We’d have to Retcon the entire organisation, and all their friends and family, and destroy all their records and notes. You’re welcome to try, but I’m not taking that on.”
“But -” Jack started, pleadingly, and Owen raised a hand.
“Or, I could just use them for testing. It’d save on the pet shop bills.”
Ianto’s eyes narrowed, and Jack was sure the ice in his voice could have frozen volcanoes.
“They’re a protected species. If you hurt them in any way -”
“Nobody’s gonna know,” Owen pointed out.
“I would,” Ianto told him, with enough threat to make Owen subside.
“But we really do need to get rid of them,” Gwen said, trying to get them back on topic. “I mean, we can’t work with bats in the Hub.”
“Actually,” Tosh said quietly, but Jack had already started speaking, saying, “Gwen’s right. They’re a health hazard. And we already have enough to deal with without cleaning up after a load of mistakenly evolved rodents. I don’t care how, but we get rid of them. Throw the lot of them through the Rift if you want. Good riddance to the ugly little rats.”
“They’re not ugly!” Ianto protested. “They’re cute!”
In the silence that followed that pronouncement, while Jack observed a slight red tinge creep up the back of Ianto’s neck, Tosh cleared her throat.
“Actually, they kind of want to stay.”
Everyone turned to stare at her.
“What?” Jack said flatly.
“Um,” said Tosh. “One of the devices in the archives wasn’t properly deactivated when it was put away. One bat got in and it... sort of... made it intelligent. He said he fetched the rest of the colony after that.”
Jack gave up and folded his arms on the table, slumping down with a sigh.
“It’s not my fault,” Tosh hurried to tell him. “The device was filed in the eighties. And anyway, the bats have promised they won’t be here all the time. They like to spend the summer in the country.”
Jack just groaned.
“How the hell have you been talking to them?” Owen asked, and Tosh beamed.
“My translation program’s been coming along really well,” she said happily. “Actually, they’ve been helping me with that. And some of my experiments. Their echolocation is really useful. It’s like having an ultrasound scanner that can actually communicate exactly what it finds...”
Ianto picked up his notebook with the minutes of the meeting, and added, Bats to stay and assist Toshiko. It was far from the oddest sentence in the book.
“So, now that’s resolved, shall we move on to item nine?”
“Next time we’re due a meeting,” Jack said, voice muffled in his arms, “can somebody, please, just shoot me?”
Far too cheerfully, Ianto told him, “I’ll put it on the agenda.”
Rating: PG
Prompt: Bats
Warnings: Random quick-fic?
Word Count: 970
Author's Notes: I'm not quite sure what's wrong with my brain at the moment. It'll be fine...
Item Eight
“Good work,” Jack said, as Tosh finished her report and sat back down. “Keep us posted.”
He looked back down at the agenda Ianto had provided for them all, and turned the page.
“Now...”
He paused, blinked at the paper, then looked up at Ianto.
“What do you mean, infestation in the Archives? Why isn’t this higher on the agenda?”
Owen inhaled the sip of coffee he’d been taking, and choked quietly while Gwen thumped his back. Jack ignored them both in favour of staring at Ianto. It was a fun pastime, in any case.
“When I say infestation,” Ianto said slowly, “it’s not really something you have to worry about. It’s terrestrial. They’re not interfering with the systems, and I’ve moved everything out of their vicinity so they’re no danger to the files. I’m more worried about the colony than...”
“What are they?” Jack insisted, with growing suspicion.
Ianto hesitated for a brief moment, then said guiltily, “Bats.”
Jack shoved his chair back from the table, face creased in disgust as he repeated, “Bats?”
Gwen, he noted, was looking just as horrified - enough to pause while Owen kept choking.
“Yes, sir, bats,” Ianto confirmed. “And I’m concerned that some of the devices we have in storage might be dangerous to them, never mind what damage we could do through any use of the Rift Manipulator, or even some of our standard procedures -”
“They’re bats, Ianto,” Jack told him, since he was clearly missing the point. “Mice with wings! Disease-ridden pests that suck your blood and get tangled in your hair!”
Gwen flinched.
“Actually, these are pipistrelles, not vampire bats,” Ianto told him. “So they’re doing a great job getting rid of insects. And your hair’s too short for them to get tangled in it, even if they did hit you.”
“Mine’s not!” Gwen protested, but Tosh said nothing.
Owen gasped in a breath and braced both hands against the table, panting.
“They have to go,” Jack was saying firmly. “I can’t have them here. They’ll -”
“I quite agree,” Ianto told him. “We have to move them somewhere. I’d like to hear your suggestions for a new roost and possible methods of transportation. Sir.”
Jack paused, and stared at him again.
“How do you normally do it?”
“You contact the proper authorities,” Ianto said, “and they send a team around to assess the situation, and find an appropriate solution. For obvious reasons, we can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
Ianto blinked at him, and said, “Which part of secret underground base is presenting you with difficulty, sir?”
“We can Retcon them afterwards,” Jack said airily. “As long as they get rid of those things, what does it matter?”
Ianto took a deliberate breath, exhibiting every sign of having to keep his temper under control.
“They’ll have to fill out God knows how many forms and it won’t be done in the space of a day,” he said. “We’d have to Retcon the entire organisation, and all their friends and family, and destroy all their records and notes. You’re welcome to try, but I’m not taking that on.”
“But -” Jack started, pleadingly, and Owen raised a hand.
“Or, I could just use them for testing. It’d save on the pet shop bills.”
Ianto’s eyes narrowed, and Jack was sure the ice in his voice could have frozen volcanoes.
“They’re a protected species. If you hurt them in any way -”
“Nobody’s gonna know,” Owen pointed out.
“I would,” Ianto told him, with enough threat to make Owen subside.
“But we really do need to get rid of them,” Gwen said, trying to get them back on topic. “I mean, we can’t work with bats in the Hub.”
“Actually,” Tosh said quietly, but Jack had already started speaking, saying, “Gwen’s right. They’re a health hazard. And we already have enough to deal with without cleaning up after a load of mistakenly evolved rodents. I don’t care how, but we get rid of them. Throw the lot of them through the Rift if you want. Good riddance to the ugly little rats.”
“They’re not ugly!” Ianto protested. “They’re cute!”
In the silence that followed that pronouncement, while Jack observed a slight red tinge creep up the back of Ianto’s neck, Tosh cleared her throat.
“Actually, they kind of want to stay.”
Everyone turned to stare at her.
“What?” Jack said flatly.
“Um,” said Tosh. “One of the devices in the archives wasn’t properly deactivated when it was put away. One bat got in and it... sort of... made it intelligent. He said he fetched the rest of the colony after that.”
Jack gave up and folded his arms on the table, slumping down with a sigh.
“It’s not my fault,” Tosh hurried to tell him. “The device was filed in the eighties. And anyway, the bats have promised they won’t be here all the time. They like to spend the summer in the country.”
Jack just groaned.
“How the hell have you been talking to them?” Owen asked, and Tosh beamed.
“My translation program’s been coming along really well,” she said happily. “Actually, they’ve been helping me with that. And some of my experiments. Their echolocation is really useful. It’s like having an ultrasound scanner that can actually communicate exactly what it finds...”
Ianto picked up his notebook with the minutes of the meeting, and added, Bats to stay and assist Toshiko. It was far from the oddest sentence in the book.
“So, now that’s resolved, shall we move on to item nine?”
“Next time we’re due a meeting,” Jack said, voice muffled in his arms, “can somebody, please, just shoot me?”
Far too cheerfully, Ianto told him, “I’ll put it on the agenda.”