So, here we go again – a new story and a slightly more cheerful one this time! I will take this opportunity to mention the fact that I own nothing in this story apart from two small rats (whom you are yet to meet) and whatever skill at writing I may possess.

So, while this isn't exactly festive, I hope you still enjoy it. And while I can't promise that there won't be any cliff-hangers, I can safely confirm that no major character will come close to death. (And yes, you did read the description right – this is a Torchwood fic.)

The Great Escape

Owen hummed tunelessly to himself as he pondered hard over the results of his latest experiment. The Rift's latest offering had been a carton of some sort of poisonous liquid. Jack had been unable to identify it so now Owen was working hard to try and find an antidote, just in case any had landed elsewhere. At the moment Owen sincerely wished that this hadn't happened, as he was nowhere near to finding a cure for the thing, or even discovering what it actually did. Every single one of the lab rats he tried it on seemed to behave differently.

The doctor looked sadly down at the remains of his latest test subject, uncomfortably aware that Ianto, and possibly Jack too, would not be happy with the rate he was going through their supplies. If he knew the Welshman, he would probably try to put him on a budget. This was not a prospect Owen liked. Still, he reckoned he had nearly cracked it. Just one more rat…

Owen headed towards one of the Hub's more obscure store cupboards; the one is which they kept a large rodent cage full of…

Shit. Thought Owen, looking at the open door. A large rodent cage which used to be full of rats.

Owen spent the next few hours fervently hoping no-one would notice the sudden escape of half-a-dozen rats and praying that Myfanwy would eat them before they could do any damage. He did not want to be anywhere near the rest of the team when they discovered that he had accidentally let loose a cageful of hungry and destructive rodents in the Hub.

Tosh bent over the pile of notes on her desk as she sipped her tea, wondering vaguely why the edges appeared to have been nibbled. But then the Rift alarm went off and any potential vermin problems the Hub had suddenly became insignificant when compared to the all-too-real vermin problems of Cardiff.

When they all got back to the Hub Gwen was heard to complain that someone had eaten the chocolate bar she had left on her desk. She was unable to pass the blame onto Owen, it being common knowledge that eating was something he should not attempt in his present condition, so Owen got to enjoy the sound of Jack being falsely accused of sweet-stealing. On the whole though, he considered, that pleasure probably wouldn't offset the bollocking he'd get off Jack when he found out. But it was still something.

On Tuesday morning Ianto was slightly put to find that the floor he had left so neatly swept the night before was now sprinkled with shreds of paper and what looked like food crumbs. Sighing quietly to himself he made a mental note to ask Jack what on earth he got up to when they left him in the Hub on his own, and headed off to the kitchen to get himself a mug of coffee and a biscuit before he started to tidy up. He'd just made himself a cup when he heard the telltale signs of the others arriving (it was the door alarms that did it, he reckoned) and instantly started to make them some too. But when he reached up to the biscuit tin he noticed that the lid was slightly askew: Jack, he decided instantly. That would explain the crumbs.

And then the tin moved.

Grabbing a knife in one hand (Ianto had a fairly good idea by now of what sort of creatures came through the Rift) he carefully lifted up the lid and peered inside. He didn't know about Owen's accident, so when he saw a small rat, it's dark brown fur covered in crumbs, clutching a piece of chocolate biscuit in its two tiny paws and gazing up at him with huge, dark, round, begging eyes the first thing he could think of to say was:

"Who turned Gwen into a rat?"