Fic : The Takeaways of Torchwood (1/1)
Feb. 6th, 2008 12:18 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
burntcopperTitle : The Takeaways of Torchwood (four times they ordered out and one time they didn't)
Author : Gunbunny
E-Mail : snapdragon@beeb.net
Fandom : Torchwood.
Pairing : ....aside from Jack's back catalogue?
Rating : No sex and no violence. :sigh:
Summary : I'm sure that nothing in the Hub's kitchen gets used aside from the coffee facilities, the fridge and the toaster.
Disclaimer : Not mine. Russell's and Chris's.
Feedback : I accept burnt offerings and alcohol.
Archive : http://burntcopper.com/fic , anywhere else feel free.
"Golden Palace, what's your order?" Sunny says, watching the nurses squabble on the tv.
"Szechuan chicken... the noodles... singapore noodles, two portions, egg fried rice, ginger beef - Tosh, take the pen out of your mouth, I couldn't hear that one." She fumbles for another pen as hers begins to run out. "Was Owen wanting - oh, he's off the garlic, is he? What was he on last night - dodgy kebab?" Sunny finishes taking the rest of the order and puts the phone down.
A fresh billow of steam comes from the kichen, laden with grease and soy. "New order or gossipping about Holby City?" Han asks, poking his head around the door.
"New order. Tosh up at Torchwood." Sunny says, tearing the top slip off the pad and handing it to him.
Han peers at it. "No squid?"
"Owen had a dodgy kebab."
"Couldn't happen to a nicer bloke." He pauses. "So, is there any sign of Tosh not feeding him her extra prawn crackers?"
Sunny waves him off, picking up the sudoku on the table and casting it aside as a lost cause. "She shot you down a long, long time ago, Han, get over it."
"Oh, I'm over it. I just drool from far off." He says, disappearing through the door, back into the steam, leaving her to patient number three spewing over the arsewipe doctor. Sunny's betting this one's the one marked for death this week.
----
Pete wipes up a spill of ketchup from the surface as the latest customer picks up their burgers and takes them over to their mates, who're huddled against the wind by their car.
Harry peers over his shoulder as he gets the rolls out of the freezer. "That's one bloody big Land Rover there. Tourists, aye?" Big shiny land rovers only ever belong to tourists, or the wankers with holiday homes. Who're worse than tourists. Everyone round here either drives little cars or some of the farmers have the really old decrepit landrovers, the ones that barely have seatbelts, never mind suspension and air conditioning.
"Nah. Frog-face there said something about work." He says, angling his head at the one huddled in on himself a bit.
"Huh. Geologists or archaeologists, you reckon?" Harry muses.
"Who knows. Could be some coppers doing follow-up on the disappearances."
"Still say that's idiots not knowing their arse from their elbow when it comes to a map. Seriously, how do they do it? Stick to the road and you'll be fine. Not exactly freezing conditions overnight even if you do get stranded."
"You're fine, you've got sheep shagging in your blood. Here, how come they only got four?"
"One of 'em didn't want a burger."
"Hmph. Veggie or food allergies or whatever it is they're calling picky eater these days?"
"Probably one of those idiots who believes the scare stories."
----
"Jubilee Pizza. Oh, hi, Ianto... usual order?" Tom brings up the regulars list. "With two extra pepperoni. Got it. Did you want garlic bread? Sounds like a long night if you're ordering this much. Okay, no garlic bread, just the two extra pepperoni." He puts the phone down. "Ianto called, order from Torchwood."
"Usual order?" Anne asks.
"Usual plus two pepperoni. Looks like they're in for a long night."
Dafydd walks in. "What've you got for me, then?"
Tom puts the boxes on the table. "Torchwood order. Say hello to Ianto for us."
"And don't accept an offer of a drink again!" Anne yells from the back, busy scattering peppers on some strange concoction that involves pineapple and ground beef. "You know what happened last time!"
Dafydd shudders. "Don't worry, I have no desire to drink that much again."
Tom raises an eyebrow. "You're a bloody student, Dafydd."
"My liver is a mere novice compared to the Torchwood lot. Couldn't remember a thing the next morning, and you don't want to know about the hangover." Dafydd replies, stuffing the pizzas in the bag and tucking the order slip into the bag pocket. He grins. "Maybe I can get some of Ianto's coffee."
Tom glares at him. "Don't rub it in."
---
Ben stacks some fresh cups on the pile. "Ah, pre-lunch crowd, what lovely people."
Monica eyes him. "You are very much of the wrong, Ben. I see people on the edge of caffeine deprivation, and we know that that is not a good thing. The girl in the blue jacket has had at least four double espressos, I would guess."
"What do you know, you've only been here two months." Ben says.
"I have been working coffee bars longer than you, Welsh git." She snorts.
The door opens, and a group comes in. "Don't know why we do this, we've got Ianto." The English one grumbles.
"He's in the middle of re-doing the systems, Owen." The one of the girls says, giving him a pointed look. "Even if the coffee isn't up to scratch."
"Besides, you needed to pull your head out of that last exam." The other girl adds. "Fresh air, Owen, it's a marvellous thing." She bites her lip. "Is it me or was the last batch we got from here a bit burnt?"
"You're just a tart for the hazelnut syrup, girlie. Get 'em to drown the taste in that, no matter how fucking awful and over-priced it is."
Rhodri winces. "Oh, fuck, it's the gripers."
Monica rolls her eyes. "They come here, they pay for their triple espressos and cappuccinos, who cares if they moan about the inferiority of Starbucks to their mountain-shade blue roast beans?"
----
Owen looks down at the bowl that's just been put in front of him, takes out his pen, and pokes gingerly at it. "Tosh, what the fuck is this? I thought we were getting pizza."
"Soup." She says primly. "I rang Jubilee and they said their ovens were getting a clean."
"What about the chinese?" Jack asks, picking up a spoon from the pile.
"Golden Palace decided to take Chinese New Year off." She replies. "I thought it might do us good to have something that wasn't on speed-dial. The kitchen can be used for something other than coffee and toast, you know."
"I'll bet that's their code for 'Han's got pissed on the cooking sherry and set himself on fire again'." Owen mutters, grudgingly picking up a spoon.
"Well, I think it's nice." Gwen says. "Makes a change from the usual grease."
"You're a copper, you're supposed to run on bloody grease." Owen says. "Fucking hell, it's not even got bits in it. What's this supposed to be, yellow flavour?"
"Butternut squash." Tosh says, sitting down. "Ianto likes it." Ianto's busily tucking in on the other side of the table, along with Jack.
"I dunno." Owen grumbles. "Give me takeaways any day."
END
Author : Gunbunny
E-Mail : snapdragon@beeb.net
Fandom : Torchwood.
Pairing : ....aside from Jack's back catalogue?
Rating : No sex and no violence. :sigh:
Summary : I'm sure that nothing in the Hub's kitchen gets used aside from the coffee facilities, the fridge and the toaster.
Disclaimer : Not mine. Russell's and Chris's.
Feedback : I accept burnt offerings and alcohol.
Archive : http://burntcopper.com/fic , anywhere else feel free.
"Golden Palace, what's your order?" Sunny says, watching the nurses squabble on the tv.
"Szechuan chicken... the noodles... singapore noodles, two portions, egg fried rice, ginger beef - Tosh, take the pen out of your mouth, I couldn't hear that one." She fumbles for another pen as hers begins to run out. "Was Owen wanting - oh, he's off the garlic, is he? What was he on last night - dodgy kebab?" Sunny finishes taking the rest of the order and puts the phone down.
A fresh billow of steam comes from the kichen, laden with grease and soy. "New order or gossipping about Holby City?" Han asks, poking his head around the door.
"New order. Tosh up at Torchwood." Sunny says, tearing the top slip off the pad and handing it to him.
Han peers at it. "No squid?"
"Owen had a dodgy kebab."
"Couldn't happen to a nicer bloke." He pauses. "So, is there any sign of Tosh not feeding him her extra prawn crackers?"
Sunny waves him off, picking up the sudoku on the table and casting it aside as a lost cause. "She shot you down a long, long time ago, Han, get over it."
"Oh, I'm over it. I just drool from far off." He says, disappearing through the door, back into the steam, leaving her to patient number three spewing over the arsewipe doctor. Sunny's betting this one's the one marked for death this week.
----
Pete wipes up a spill of ketchup from the surface as the latest customer picks up their burgers and takes them over to their mates, who're huddled against the wind by their car.
Harry peers over his shoulder as he gets the rolls out of the freezer. "That's one bloody big Land Rover there. Tourists, aye?" Big shiny land rovers only ever belong to tourists, or the wankers with holiday homes. Who're worse than tourists. Everyone round here either drives little cars or some of the farmers have the really old decrepit landrovers, the ones that barely have seatbelts, never mind suspension and air conditioning.
"Nah. Frog-face there said something about work." He says, angling his head at the one huddled in on himself a bit.
"Huh. Geologists or archaeologists, you reckon?" Harry muses.
"Who knows. Could be some coppers doing follow-up on the disappearances."
"Still say that's idiots not knowing their arse from their elbow when it comes to a map. Seriously, how do they do it? Stick to the road and you'll be fine. Not exactly freezing conditions overnight even if you do get stranded."
"You're fine, you've got sheep shagging in your blood. Here, how come they only got four?"
"One of 'em didn't want a burger."
"Hmph. Veggie or food allergies or whatever it is they're calling picky eater these days?"
"Probably one of those idiots who believes the scare stories."
----
"Jubilee Pizza. Oh, hi, Ianto... usual order?" Tom brings up the regulars list. "With two extra pepperoni. Got it. Did you want garlic bread? Sounds like a long night if you're ordering this much. Okay, no garlic bread, just the two extra pepperoni." He puts the phone down. "Ianto called, order from Torchwood."
"Usual order?" Anne asks.
"Usual plus two pepperoni. Looks like they're in for a long night."
Dafydd walks in. "What've you got for me, then?"
Tom puts the boxes on the table. "Torchwood order. Say hello to Ianto for us."
"And don't accept an offer of a drink again!" Anne yells from the back, busy scattering peppers on some strange concoction that involves pineapple and ground beef. "You know what happened last time!"
Dafydd shudders. "Don't worry, I have no desire to drink that much again."
Tom raises an eyebrow. "You're a bloody student, Dafydd."
"My liver is a mere novice compared to the Torchwood lot. Couldn't remember a thing the next morning, and you don't want to know about the hangover." Dafydd replies, stuffing the pizzas in the bag and tucking the order slip into the bag pocket. He grins. "Maybe I can get some of Ianto's coffee."
Tom glares at him. "Don't rub it in."
---
Ben stacks some fresh cups on the pile. "Ah, pre-lunch crowd, what lovely people."
Monica eyes him. "You are very much of the wrong, Ben. I see people on the edge of caffeine deprivation, and we know that that is not a good thing. The girl in the blue jacket has had at least four double espressos, I would guess."
"What do you know, you've only been here two months." Ben says.
"I have been working coffee bars longer than you, Welsh git." She snorts.
The door opens, and a group comes in. "Don't know why we do this, we've got Ianto." The English one grumbles.
"He's in the middle of re-doing the systems, Owen." The one of the girls says, giving him a pointed look. "Even if the coffee isn't up to scratch."
"Besides, you needed to pull your head out of that last exam." The other girl adds. "Fresh air, Owen, it's a marvellous thing." She bites her lip. "Is it me or was the last batch we got from here a bit burnt?"
"You're just a tart for the hazelnut syrup, girlie. Get 'em to drown the taste in that, no matter how fucking awful and over-priced it is."
Rhodri winces. "Oh, fuck, it's the gripers."
Monica rolls her eyes. "They come here, they pay for their triple espressos and cappuccinos, who cares if they moan about the inferiority of Starbucks to their mountain-shade blue roast beans?"
----
Owen looks down at the bowl that's just been put in front of him, takes out his pen, and pokes gingerly at it. "Tosh, what the fuck is this? I thought we were getting pizza."
"Soup." She says primly. "I rang Jubilee and they said their ovens were getting a clean."
"What about the chinese?" Jack asks, picking up a spoon from the pile.
"Golden Palace decided to take Chinese New Year off." She replies. "I thought it might do us good to have something that wasn't on speed-dial. The kitchen can be used for something other than coffee and toast, you know."
"I'll bet that's their code for 'Han's got pissed on the cooking sherry and set himself on fire again'." Owen mutters, grudgingly picking up a spoon.
"Well, I think it's nice." Gwen says. "Makes a change from the usual grease."
"You're a copper, you're supposed to run on bloody grease." Owen says. "Fucking hell, it's not even got bits in it. What's this supposed to be, yellow flavour?"
"Butternut squash." Tosh says, sitting down. "Ianto likes it." Ianto's busily tucking in on the other side of the table, along with Jack.
"I dunno." Owen grumbles. "Give me takeaways any day."
END
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no subject
Date: 2008-02-10 07:42 pm (UTC)