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Title: Not by the Front Door
Fandom: BTVS/Torchwood x-over
Word Count: 200
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Neither show is my toy box. I own nothing and am merely playing.
Summary: Sequel to Standstill. Ianto and Oz discuss what Owen did.
Note: For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
azure_chaos because he asked for a sequel.
Not by the Front Door:
Ianto raised an eyebrow as Oz landed naked in his kitchen, “I thought we’d agreed you were going to use the front door?”
“Got waylaid,” Oz explained.
“What was it?” Ianto inquired before he went to retrieve clothes for Oz.
“Mor demon,” Oz explained after Ianto had returned and he’d begun to dress, “Then the guy I saved had a gun, thought I was an alien.”
Ianto reminded himself to breath, then trusted Oz, “We call them Weevils. What kind of jacket was he wearing?”
“Leather.”
“Owen.”
“He was rude,” Oz added conversationally as he regarded Ianto carefully.
“That’s Owen.”
“You’re with Torchwood, still?”
Ianto nodded.
Oz’s eyebrows arched in question.
“Three isn’t One,” Ianto managed after a moment.
“Could’ve fooled me.”
“I’ll take care of Owen,” Ianto reassured, “No need to send in any of the girls.”
Oz nodded, then tempted, “You could come with, always need watchers.”
Ianto shook his head, “I couldn’t do that again.”
“Might not be the same.”
“You still occasionally work with The Initiative?” Ianto tried.
Oz smiled, “Kay, won’t throw stones.”
“Thanks.”
“Aliens?”
Ianto shrugged, “Sometimes.”
“Weird. Got the text Giles needed?”
Ianto nodded, handed it over and watched as Oz teleported away.
Fandom: BTVS/Torchwood x-over
Word Count: 200
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Neither show is my toy box. I own nothing and am merely playing.
Summary: Sequel to Standstill. Ianto and Oz discuss what Owen did.
Note: For
azure_chaos because he asked for a sequel. Not by the Front Door:
Ianto raised an eyebrow as Oz landed naked in his kitchen, “I thought we’d agreed you were going to use the front door?”
“Got waylaid,” Oz explained.
“What was it?” Ianto inquired before he went to retrieve clothes for Oz.
“Mor demon,” Oz explained after Ianto had returned and he’d begun to dress, “Then the guy I saved had a gun, thought I was an alien.”
Ianto reminded himself to breath, then trusted Oz, “We call them Weevils. What kind of jacket was he wearing?”
“Leather.”
“Owen.”
“He was rude,” Oz added conversationally as he regarded Ianto carefully.
“That’s Owen.”
“You’re with Torchwood, still?”
Ianto nodded.
Oz’s eyebrows arched in question.
“Three isn’t One,” Ianto managed after a moment.
“Could’ve fooled me.”
“I’ll take care of Owen,” Ianto reassured, “No need to send in any of the girls.”
Oz nodded, then tempted, “You could come with, always need watchers.”
Ianto shook his head, “I couldn’t do that again.”
“Might not be the same.”
“You still occasionally work with The Initiative?” Ianto tried.
Oz smiled, “Kay, won’t throw stones.”
“Thanks.”
“Aliens?”
Ianto shrugged, “Sometimes.”
“Weird. Got the text Giles needed?”
Ianto nodded, handed it over and watched as Oz teleported away.