lt_indigo

lt_indigo

Owen blinked in disbelief at the rift’s latest ‘gift’ to them, his eyes round.

“Wha- what are we supposed to do with that?”

“There’s a nice big tank in the third basement that should do nicely for now,” Ianto said without hesitation. “And shellfish aren’t exactly hard to buy at the market. Assuming that’s what it eats.”

The ‘dodecapus’ flailed mournfully at them, and Owen jumped back from the besuckered tentacles. Ianto reached out curiously and stroked the very tip of one. The creature made a clicking sound that could have almost been mistaken for a purr.

“That’s right,” Ianto said soothingly. “We’ll take you home and get you into a nice tank. Being out here can’t be comfortable for you.”

Some of the tentacles waved as if in agreement, and drifted towards Ianto, who moved as if to pick up the clumsy body of the creature. He looked to Owen for help.

“I’ve mentioned my octopus thing, right?” Owen said, eyeing the tentacles from a safe distance. “Creepy fucking things: far too many legs and suckers. And that’s got a whole lot more.”

Ianto glared at him. “If you don’t man up and help, I’ll have to call the girls instead. And tell them why.” He hesitated for a moment before adding: “Or I could call Jack, and he can tell you about how much fun tentacled aliens are in bed. Gleefully.”

“You’re a rotten bastard, Ianto Jones.”

“I try my best,” Ianto replied sweetly, still stroking the dodecapus.