that time newt dragged a torchwood officer through a cross-dimensional portal

Rating: T
Pairing: Newton Geiszler/Hermann Gottlieb, pre-Newton Geiszler/Hermann Gottlieb/Owen Harper
Summary: Hermann wakes up to find one of Newt's experiments in his bed


Hermann wakes to find a man in his bed. Or, rather: he wakes to find a man in his bed who looks just like him but isn't him, clinging to him like an octopus, and thinks, it must be Tuesday, then, and crawls out of bed to go find Newton.

Or, at least, he attempts to.

The stranger who is not him snuffles and clings tighter, tangling their legs together, and Hermann sighs, resigning himself to at least another hour in bed. Newton, he had better not be radioactive, he thinks as the man tucks his face into the crook of Hermann's neck, which is...a bit unsettling, to be honest, given that he's watching his own doppelgänger cuddle him. He tries not to think to deeply on that.

Well, at least he—probably—won't explode when fed caffeine. Maybe Newt will arrive to collect his errant test-subject.

Newt, however, it seems, isn't going to do so. Hermann squeezes his eyes shut and attempts to settle back into a comfortable position, stalwartly ignoring the breath on his skin.

He awakens with a start, uncertain as to what's drawn him out of his sleep. The bed feels...cold. Why does the bed—? Ah.

The man has, at some point, migrated from the bed to the floor, and dragged half the blanket with him. With an irritable huff, Hermann tries to pull it back, at least enough to cover himself, but to no avail. The man lets out a whine and tugs back, dragging the rest of the blanket, and Hermann, down on top of him.

Hermann lets out a muffled curse.

That, at least, seems to register—but not in the way Hermann had hoped, because the man turns to him, blinking slowly, and asks, blithely, "So this is what jumping through the Rift gets me, eh? Sex dreams with myself?"

Hermann gapes. "I—I beg pardon?" he questions.

The man shrugs, as much as he's able, anyway. "I dunno—I guess that the Rift's made me narcissistic. Imagine that—a sex dream, but with me, but with, like, hot me. How do you do that? You—well, me, I guess—look like you should be ugly but instead you're...disturbingly hot."

"No," Hermann says, then, again, more forcefully, "no. I have not had enough caffeine to deal with this yet. Let me up so I can go scream at Newton."

"Issac?" The other questions.

"No," Hermann snaps, righting himself. "Far, far worse. Newton Geiszler, MD, PhD, and my…" what, bit on the side ? One-night stand? Colleague?

"—lab partner!" Newt exclaims, appearing through the door. "Ah, Herms, I see you've met our visitor."

"Visitor?" Hermann huffs, then, "I've told you not to refer to me by my first name in front of strangers."

Newt rolls his eyes. " Yes , Hermann, visitor—and no, I won't. He's basically just you...well, he's a bit scruffy, but it adds to the charm."

The as-of-yet-unnamed man's gaze darts between the two of them. "Wait—hang on, this isn't a sex dream, is it?"

" No ," Hermann snaps, "no, it is most certainly not ."

The man shrugs. "Well, I had to ask, since I don't usually meet people as good-looking as the two of you…"

"That's narcissistic," Hermann points out, and the man barks a laugh.

"Well," he shrugs, "it's true, sweetheart."

Newt clears his throat. "Well, regardless, you still haven't told me—us your name, so all I know about you is that you're...from a different dimension or timeline, not sure, but not the one we just closed, so...he's safe, I think. Well, you're safe."

"Owen," the man says, "Doctor Owen Harper. Torchwood, if that means anything over here."

"Uh, nope," Newt says. "Oh, um, that there's Hermann—"

"Doctor Hermann Gottlieb—"

"—and I'm Newt Geiszler. Call me Newt," Newt finishes cheerfully. Then, for reasons unknown, he drags the two of them into an awkward hug. Hermann feels a migraine come on. This should be fun.