mtxref_fic: (Torchwood)
[personal profile] mtxref_fic
Author's Note: Written for [community profile] fic_promptly's Any, any, it's snowing! quick, get the shovels! Featuring the Torchwood team in a strange wintry situation.


"They're predicting the snowfall to start getting thicker: it's shaping up into a historic blizzard," Gwen said, peering at the weather maps on the browser in the middle of her desktop monitor screen.

"Already on it," Toshiko called from her nook, where she had several weather maps pulled up, more detailed than the one on Gwen's screen.

Gwen raised an eyebrow. "You got one-up on the weather satellites?" she said, teasing yet appreciative and impressed.

"Atmospheric sniffer: I built one, Jack and Ianto strapped it onto that dinosaur," Tosh said.

"One use for that wretched flapping thing," Owen said, rolling his chair closer to the two ladies of Torchwood.

Tosh frowned at her screens. "This isn't right."

"No, it's not right that we should get this much snow," Owen groused. "Quick, break out the bigger shovels."

Gwen rolled her eyes at Owen. "It's more than that," Tosh said, honing in on some readout. Her eyes widened. "I'm getting a read that ...the chemical composition of the snow is changing."

"Acid snow? That's nothing new," Owen drawled. "Not since the Industrial Age."

"No, it's more complicated than that," Tosh said, pressing a few keys to pull up another readout. She blinked. "It's metal."

"Metal?" Gwen said, shocked.

"You're sure it's not shrapnel from an aeroplane that broke up?" Owen asked.

Tosh pulled up another feed, typed something in, then after a long moment, she shook her head. "There's no planes nearby, and no reports of anything breaking up."

"Sounds like we had a leak through the Rift," Jack said, joining the others.

"And which planet is dumping its trash through the Rift now?" Owen asked.

"Venus," Jack said, dead seriously.

"Venus? It snows metal on Venus? I thought it was too hot there," Gwen said.

"Too hot for water snow, but in the higher elevations? You get shiny flakes of pyrite, bismuth and lead," Jack said. "Been there: it's pretty, but you don't want to be out playing in it."

"And now we've got some of this stuff falling on us?" Owen said.

"Looks that way," Jack said.

"And how do we deal with it?" Gwen asked.

"Best to ride it out and get out the protective gear and the shovels," Jack said.

"Already on it," Ianto called, coming up from storage with a bundle of hazmat suits in his arms.
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