Title: The Seventh Day…
Author: badly-knitted
Characters: Owen, Ianto, Jack, team, OCs
Rating: G
Written For: Challenge 303 – Twelve Days at tw100
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: Random insanity.
Summary: It's Christmas, and the Rift is apparently in a giving mood…
Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Part 7 of 'The Twelve Days of Riftmas'.
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I love Janto: So glad you liked your fic! I like to think Velvet was more angry than afraid, she didn't like the aliens in her home and hurting her friends so she was yelling at them! George has no physical limitations, he can do whatever he 'decides' to do, or whatever needs to be done.
Torchwood, where anything can happen - and probably will! Living Snowmen are a minor problem, LOL! Thank you.
I had problems all Christmas day and part of Boxing Day, it was so annoying not being able to reply to reviews or post anything! It seems to be fixed now though.
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OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO
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On the seventh day of Christmas, the team had the task of fishing seven very bedraggled beings out of the Taff.
It had to be said that as swimmers, they left a lot to be desired, but they were certainly giving it their best try.
"I'm no ornithologist, but I'm pretty sure these aren't swans," said Owen breathlessly, hauling one out of the water.
"Well spotted, Owen," snarked a waterlogged Ianto. "What tipped you off?"
"Actually, they're Melicans," Jack explained, "They're from a desert planet in the Swan Nebula."
"That explains why they can't swim," Ianto muttered, wringing himself out.
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TBC in 'The Eighth Day…'