donutsweeper (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
donutsweeper) wrote2008-08-27 10:42 pm
donutsweeper) wrote2008-08-27 10:42 pm
Owen, The Mighty Hunter
Title: Owen, The Mighty Hunter
Pairing/Warning/Rating: No pairings or warnings, rated G
Beta:_medley_
Word Count: 795
Summary: It was a tale of tale of derring-do that Owen was proud to tell.
Author's Note: Written forjadesfire2808's birthday. Happy Birthday!!!!
“I fought it off right proper, I did!” Owen held up his celebratory drink. Actually, it was his sixth drink, but no one was counting.
“Yes, you did, Owen.” Tosh leaned over and patted him on the top of the head. It was probably supposed to be a gentle fluff of his hair, not that she’d ever done that before, but it had to be what she’d intended. She wasn’t the type to treat him like he was in nursery school.
“And there were fangs. Did I tell you about the fangs?”
“We’ve heard all about the fangs,” Gwen’s tone belied the fact the fang story might have been told a few too many times already. But, it was a good story, and Jack had just showed up a minute or twelve before so he hadn’t heard it yet.
“There were fangs, Jack. Huge fangs, you should’ve seen it. This big,” he said, his hands pretty far apart. After so many drinks his memory of the fangs, well the entire creature to be fair, was a bit hazy, but those fangs had been huge. He was sure of that.
Jack just grabbed his usual, a water, from the bartender and smiled that patronizing ‘no matter what you’ve done, I’ve done it bigger, better and had sex while doing it’ smile. It was the kind of smile that always made Owen want to punch him. Arrogant bastard.
“Jumped at me. Nearly tore me limb from limb.” Let’s see Jack top that one.
“Right. Limb from limb.” Jack nodded, peering at Owen over the top of his glass.
“I thought you said it just snapped at you?” Gwen might have been laughing, hiding her mouth behind her hand, Owen couldn’t tell. She’d probably just had one too many and was at that stage that everything was funny.
“Right, it snapped and then lunged.” Owen drained his drink and gestured for another. “But I was prepared.”
“Of course you were.” Tosh could have put a bit more sympathy in her statement. After all, that thing might have killed him if he hadn’t been so quick. But she was probably just scared by his description of it.
“Anyway,” Jack interrupted before Owen could begin his tale of derring-do again, “we’ve identified the creature.”
“So what is it? With those horns and fangs it had so be some sort of demon or hell hound, yeah?” Owen Harper, Slayer of the Hound of Hell. That had a nice ring to it.
“Um, no.” Jack looked over at the girls, and it kind of seemed like he was trying not to laugh. “There was a reference to it in an old Cheem text that Torchwood One recovered eighty years or so ago. I suppose they did classify it as a sort of dog.”
“See, what did I tell you- hound of hell- like I said.”
“According to the translation, the one that showed up here wasn’t quite full grown.”
Owen sputtered in indignation. “Adult hound, younger hound, doesn’t matter.”
“It was more like a puppy.”
“So? It was huge and I killed it. One less hell hound in the world.”
“And it’s not really what they’d consider a creature from hell either....”
“So, what did they call it, Jack?” Gwen asked, poking Jack with her glass.
“Well, you have to remember translating isn’t my strong suit-”
“Oh, go on, tell us.” Tosh jumped in.
From the look on Jack’s face, Owen was beginning to think he wasn’t going to like where this was heading.
“The closest I could get to its name was that it was designated a dog, well puppy in this case, of higgely piggely,” Jack said solemnly, as both girls burst out laughing.
“A puppy of higgely piggely!” Owen’d never seen Tosh laugh like that before, so hard she almost couldn’t breathe. “Higgely piggely!”
“Oh, Owen. A creature like that. And you faced it all by yourself. You’re so brave.” Gwen was a little calmer about it, but she was giggling. Owen could tell, even if she was still trying to hide it behind her hand.
Maybe, just maybe, the creature’d grown a bit as he’d described it to the others. Owen wasn’t sure, but he might have started to blush. But then Jack slapped a hand on his shoulder.
“Nothing you should be embarrassed about. It came out of nowhere and surprised you. But you took it out.” Jack pulled Owen a little closer to whisper in his ear, “Good job.” Then he got up to leave. “Don’t come in hung over tomorrow. Mighty Hunter,” he said with a wave as he headed out the door. Which, of course, set Gwen and Tosh off again.
Mighty Hunter. Yeah, he liked the sound of that. Owen the Mighty Hunter...
Pairing/Warning/Rating: No pairings or warnings, rated G
Beta:
_medley_Word Count: 795
Summary: It was a tale of tale of derring-do that Owen was proud to tell.
Author's Note: Written for
jadesfire2808's birthday. Happy Birthday!!!!“I fought it off right proper, I did!” Owen held up his celebratory drink. Actually, it was his sixth drink, but no one was counting.
“Yes, you did, Owen.” Tosh leaned over and patted him on the top of the head. It was probably supposed to be a gentle fluff of his hair, not that she’d ever done that before, but it had to be what she’d intended. She wasn’t the type to treat him like he was in nursery school.
“And there were fangs. Did I tell you about the fangs?”
“We’ve heard all about the fangs,” Gwen’s tone belied the fact the fang story might have been told a few too many times already. But, it was a good story, and Jack had just showed up a minute or twelve before so he hadn’t heard it yet.
“There were fangs, Jack. Huge fangs, you should’ve seen it. This big,” he said, his hands pretty far apart. After so many drinks his memory of the fangs, well the entire creature to be fair, was a bit hazy, but those fangs had been huge. He was sure of that.
Jack just grabbed his usual, a water, from the bartender and smiled that patronizing ‘no matter what you’ve done, I’ve done it bigger, better and had sex while doing it’ smile. It was the kind of smile that always made Owen want to punch him. Arrogant bastard.
“Jumped at me. Nearly tore me limb from limb.” Let’s see Jack top that one.
“Right. Limb from limb.” Jack nodded, peering at Owen over the top of his glass.
“I thought you said it just snapped at you?” Gwen might have been laughing, hiding her mouth behind her hand, Owen couldn’t tell. She’d probably just had one too many and was at that stage that everything was funny.
“Right, it snapped and then lunged.” Owen drained his drink and gestured for another. “But I was prepared.”
“Of course you were.” Tosh could have put a bit more sympathy in her statement. After all, that thing might have killed him if he hadn’t been so quick. But she was probably just scared by his description of it.
“Anyway,” Jack interrupted before Owen could begin his tale of derring-do again, “we’ve identified the creature.”
“So what is it? With those horns and fangs it had so be some sort of demon or hell hound, yeah?” Owen Harper, Slayer of the Hound of Hell. That had a nice ring to it.
“Um, no.” Jack looked over at the girls, and it kind of seemed like he was trying not to laugh. “There was a reference to it in an old Cheem text that Torchwood One recovered eighty years or so ago. I suppose they did classify it as a sort of dog.”
“See, what did I tell you- hound of hell- like I said.”
“According to the translation, the one that showed up here wasn’t quite full grown.”
Owen sputtered in indignation. “Adult hound, younger hound, doesn’t matter.”
“It was more like a puppy.”
“So? It was huge and I killed it. One less hell hound in the world.”
“And it’s not really what they’d consider a creature from hell either....”
“So, what did they call it, Jack?” Gwen asked, poking Jack with her glass.
“Well, you have to remember translating isn’t my strong suit-”
“Oh, go on, tell us.” Tosh jumped in.
From the look on Jack’s face, Owen was beginning to think he wasn’t going to like where this was heading.
“The closest I could get to its name was that it was designated a dog, well puppy in this case, of higgely piggely,” Jack said solemnly, as both girls burst out laughing.
“A puppy of higgely piggely!” Owen’d never seen Tosh laugh like that before, so hard she almost couldn’t breathe. “Higgely piggely!”
“Oh, Owen. A creature like that. And you faced it all by yourself. You’re so brave.” Gwen was a little calmer about it, but she was giggling. Owen could tell, even if she was still trying to hide it behind her hand.
Maybe, just maybe, the creature’d grown a bit as he’d described it to the others. Owen wasn’t sure, but he might have started to blush. But then Jack slapped a hand on his shoulder.
“Nothing you should be embarrassed about. It came out of nowhere and surprised you. But you took it out.” Jack pulled Owen a little closer to whisper in his ear, “Good job.” Then he got up to leave. “Don’t come in hung over tomorrow. Mighty Hunter,” he said with a wave as he headed out the door. Which, of course, set Gwen and Tosh off again.
Mighty Hunter. Yeah, he liked the sound of that. Owen the Mighty Hunter...
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no subject
Higglety, pigglety, my black hen,
She lays eggs for gentlemen.
Gentlemen come every day
To see what my black hen doth lay.
Sometimes nine, and sometimes ten.
Higglety, pigglety, my black hen
Cute! And the Maurice Sendak book looks adorable.
Anyway, it works great in your story. Ooh, a children's story "The Higglety Pigglety Puppy" and make Owen the antagonist from the puppy's point of view! Would be fun too. Because I know you're short of ideas right now. *g*
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Owen as the bad guy in a kids story. *snerk* I can see that!