Title: The Right Weapon
Fandom: Torchwood
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Owen, Jack, Gwen, Tosh.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1233
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: There’s a very nasty critter loose in the Hub, but Ianto knows how to deal with it.
Content Notes: None needed.
Written For: Challenge 395: Stick.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.



Torchwood Three has some of the most advanced weapons on the planet. Not just regular earth-made firearms, but alien pulse pistols, laser guns, sonic grenades, and at least a dozen other nifty devices the team can use for the defence of themselves and the human race. They are, to put it mildly, very well armed.

Yet here Ianto stands, poised ready to take on the latest alien menace to get loose in the Hub, wielding a hockey stick, of all things! Why there’s one in the Hub he still has no clue, he found it some months ago lurking in a corner of Jack’s office, but he’s used it as a weapon before, back when the second glove came to life. Well, he would have used it, he was all ready to go into battle, until Owen shot the glove, killing it. Bit of an anti-climax, that; Ianto is sure the hockey stick could have done the job just as well, and with less chance of injuring bystanders.

Maybe this time the hockey stick will get to prove its worth. Guns and fancy alien weapons are all very well, especially when it comes to repelling invaders, but they have their disadvantages too. Ianto has his stun gun in his pocket, but that requires physical contact with the enemy in order to be effective, which would not be advisable in this case. This creature has already killed Jack, who was in the autopsy bay with Owen, studying their latest find, when it surprised them by not actually being dead. Owen had sensibly taken refuge in a morgue drawer, where it couldn’t get to him, and had called Ianto for help from there.

Ianto also has his Torchwood Special in its shoulder holster, but the danger of ricochets in an enclosed space means he’d rather not try using it against this threat. There’s too much sensitive equipment down there, plus he doesn’t want to accidentally shoot Jack, who’s having a bad enough day as it is; from what he’s been able to hear over his Bluetooth earpiece since Owen alerted him, every time Jack revives, the alien kills him again.

The creature, which is a sort of alien crab, scorpion, lobster thing, is clearly venomous. It’s fairly small, about the size of Ianto’s shoe, has ten scuttling legs, four pincers, and a flexible, not to mention lethally poisonous, barb that shoots out from what Ianto can only assume are its mouthparts. If that end is the front and not the rear, that is. The pincers are attached at the alien’s midsection, and it can scuttle equally well forwards, backwards, or sideways, so maybe it doesn’t have a front or a back; aliens can be very… alien that way.

Before coming up to the main Hub, Ianto took sensible precautions, since he’d rather not get himself killed; it would upset Jack. So he’s wearing what amounts to armour plating on his lower half. It’s not glamorous, the garment is like a pair of waders that reach almost to his chest, with a greenish rubbery surface that’s so slick nothing can get a grip on it, and a flexible metallic lining that’s tougher than anything that can be found on earth. There are matching gauntlets that reach almost to his shoulders and he’s wearing them as well, although they’re a bit big on him. They don’t hamper his ability to grip his hockey stick, and that’s all that matters right now. A welding mask covering his face completes the look. He doesn’t want anything toxic splashing in his eyes or mouth.

From the top of the steps, Ianto stares down into the medical bay. He knows the alien is still down there, he can hear the clicking of its legs against the tiles; fortunately, it doesn’t seem to have discovered the steps yet. He wants to know exactly where it is before he goes after it though. Ah, there, just behind the trolley Owen puts his instruments on. Against the far wall, Jack is beginning to show signs of reviving, and Ianto would prefer not having to listen to his lover die yet again; five times is more than enough.

He starts down the steps, walking as quietly as he can, keeping his attention fixed on where the alien is lurking.

“Where the hell are you, Teaboy?” Owen’s voice sounds almost painfully loud in Ianto’s ear, but he ignores it. The alien obviously heard Owen too, and scuttles in the direction of the closed metal doors, behind one of which the medic is waiting to be rescued. Owen is so going to owe Ianto for this!

Ianto crosses the floor of the med bay in four long strides, swinging his trusty hockey stick at the alien and sending it skidding at speed across the slick tiles to smash into the wall beneath the drawers. It picks itself up awkwardly, one pincer and at least three legs visibly broken, leaking purple ichor, but Ianto isn’t done with it yet. As it limps towards him, he swings the hockey stick again, smashing a few more legs and breaking open the carapace, then he hits it a few more times for good measure. Once he considers it sufficiently pulverised, he stops; job done.

Behind him, as he stares down at the bits of his defeated and very dead foe, Ianto hears movement, and then Jack’s voice.

“Nicely done, Mister Jones; that was seriously hot!”

Owen pushes his drawer open, twisting around to glare at Ianto. “What took you so bloody long?”

“Preparations,” Ianto replies mildly. “Don’t bother to thank me; not that you would anyway. Do you want to autopsy the remains or would you rather I just incinerate them?”

“I should probably do a few tests first, just to make sure burning it won’t release toxic gasses.”

“As you wish. I’d better go neutralise my hockey stick.” Ianto starts up the steps, Jack trailing behind him, grinning, leaving Owen to play with the alien’s remains. Good thing they’ve got plenty of neutralising agent available. He and Jack picked up several cases on their last trip with the Doctor; according to the Time Lord, it neutralises all known poisons and toxins, and a lot that haven’t been discovered yet.

As he reaches the top of the steps, the cog door opens with its usual sirens and flashing lights to admit Gwen and Tosh, returning from a tech retrieval.

“Hey, guys! We picked up lunch on the way back,” Gwen calls out cheerfully, then she stops dead, staring at Ianto, dressed outlandishly and wielding a purple-splattered hockey stick. “Did we miss something?”

“Just Torchwood business as usual,” Ianto replies cheerfully, pushing his mask up to smile at the ladies. “Everything’s taken care of, but I wouldn’t go down in the autopsy bay if I were you. I’ll have a bit of cleaning up to do down there once Owen’s finished his examination of the remains.”

“Right. I’ll just take lunch down to the boardroom, shall I? You can join us when you’re ready.”

Ianto nods. “I’ll make coffee in a bit, just need to clean up first.” He heads for the stairs to the lower levels while Jack makes for his office.

Coming up beside Gwen, Tosh whispers, “I think we should check out the CCTV footage, don’t you?”

“Definitely. Why does the fun stuff always happen when we’re not here?”


The End