Extracting the Truth

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"It'll take two seconds, I promise."

"No, really Owen; appointment already made, I'm booked in for two thirty and I'm sure I'll be able to survive until then."

"Tooth hurty? Nobody really has appointments for tooth hurty, do they? Ianto, is this appointment of yours fabricated?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Come on, just admit it, you need that tooth coming out and you're scared of needles."

"I am not! And it doesn't need taking out, thank you - a simple filling will suffice."

"So you're not scared of needles, then?"

"Not at all."

"So it's not you that has to look away and hold the boss' hand every time you need stitching?"

"I think you'll find that Jack just likes to hold my hand, Owen, and the administration of sutures is just the excuse he needs to get his own way for a change."

"You sure it doesn't need pulling out?"

"Are you sure you want to be drinking de-caff for the rest of the month? OW!"

"Oooh, the tea-boy cups his face and winces – Paining you a bit is it, Ianto?"

"Nothing that a mild painkiller and a little clove oil won't sort out, thank you. Now, is this interrogation over – or are there any other items of my business that you'd like to stick your nose into?"

"So what time will you be leaving?"

"Where?"

"Here! To go to the dentist's? You know, for your appointment at tooth hurty?"

"Oh, yeah, that. Why? Need me to do a coffee run before I go?"

"Where is this dentist's anyway?"

"I thought this interrogation was over?"

"Avoiding the question now, are we?"

"It's a private surgery, Owen."

"Okay, what's it called?"

"What's it called? It's ….. look, I told you, it's private – you won't have any record of it."

"Ah, now you're struggling! Just admit it, Ianto, this dentist of yours doesn't exist – and you haven't got an appointment at all."

"I shall be leaving here in roughly forty-five minutes, Doctor Harper, and I shall NOT be making any coffee before I go."

"Harsh – but worth it just to know I've proven my point."

"Which is?"

"That you're afraid of needles. Now why don't you just man-up, Ianto, come over to the med-bay and let me take a look at it for you?"

"I would rather eat my own excrement than allow you to look inside my mouth, Owen."

"Again, harsh, but understandable under the circumstances, I mean, fear can make you very irrational."

"Right, that's it, I have better things to be doing with my ….."

"Jack? ….. … Jack! … ….. JACK!"

"Whoa, where's the fire?"

"Come here a sec, boss - what do you think? Is Ianto scared of needles?"

"Why, still got a toothache has he?"

"I am not scared of bloody needles, thank you! And I'd appreciate it if you didn't side with him, Sir"

"I don't need to side with anybody, thanks – and I've already told you what I think, Ianto – it needs coming out."

"No, Sir, it requires a small filling, nothing more. Ow!"

"Painkillers starting to wear off are they, tea-boy?"

"Shut up, Harper. Jack, have we got anything stronger I can take until I get to the dentist?"

"Dentist? I thought you said you didn't have a dentist?"

"Ha! I knew it, he hasn't got an appointment at all, has he, Jack."

"Ianto? Is that what you've been telling our good doctor, here?"

"Right! That's it! If anybody needs me I shall be up in the tourist office; I'm sure I've got some Paracetamol under the counter."

"Quick, Jack! Grab him!"

"Sir, I do not appreciate … …. Jack! Let go of me!"

"Med-bay, boss!"

"Harper – get your hands off of me, you weasel!"

"Onto the table, Jack! That's it! Now throw me that strap."

"Here ya go, Owen, and make sure it's nice and tight."

"Let. … me. …. Up!."

"No need to panic, tea-boy, like I said, this won't take two seconds."

"Mmmm, mmmm, mmmm, mmmm!"

"And that won't work – you'll have to open your mouth sooner or later. Jack prise his lips open."

"On it! Argghhhh!"

"Boss?"

"He bit me!"

"Oh … well, I wouldn't worry too much – you'll be as good as new in five minutes."

"Er, Owen …. it hurt?"

"No pain, no gain, Jack. Now, have another go at getting his mouth open – I'm tryin' to remember where I put me pliers."

"PLIERS?!"

"Aha! Thanks, Ianto. Ow!"

"Told you you'd open your gob sooner or later, Ianto! Now, make sure you keep your fingers in there 'til I'm ready, Jack."

"Ow! Ianto, could you stop biting me, please?"

"Nnnng, nnng, nng!"

"What was that?"

"Not sure, OW! But I think it might've been 'get off me!'. "

"Well don't listen to him, I've found the pliers - Now open wide for me Mr Jones, this won't take a minute …"

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A little later …..

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"Jack? What's up with Ianto? Me and Tosh got back from lunch an hour ago and he hasn't said one word to us yet."

"She's right, Jack, but, actually, Gwen, I've just noticed …. Don't you think his face looks a little swollen?"

"Oh, yeah - good call, Tosh. Jack, what's happened to Ianto's face? It looks swollen."

"Hmmm? Oh, yeah, that'll be the wadge of cotton wool Owen stuffed in his mouth."

"Another one of your games gone wrong, Jack?"

"Actually, Tosh, Owen, here, has been assisting Ianto with a minor medical issue … haven't you Doctor Harper. Now, I have a report to write up, so if you'll all excuse me …"

"Before you go, boss, have you noticed anything strange about your coffee?"

"Already downed it, but, y'know, now you come to mention it there was something different about it."

"Here, Gwen, have a sniff of mine – remind you of anything?"

"Hold on … ummmmm …. No - let me have one more sniff and ….. Yep ….. I was right."

"And what have you detected, P. C. Cooper?"

"Clove oil... ... Definitely clove oil."

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Thanks for reading ... bwb.