mtxref_fic: (Torchwood)
[personal profile] mtxref_fic
Author's Note: Written for < lj user="tw100">'s "Challenge 281 – Lepidoptera". Title yanked from an old Sesame Street clip ("This is the cat... that sat on my hat..." -- remember that one??) Featuring the Torchwood team, some alien moths and misadventures with fabric.


Of all the weapons Torchwood used to fight aliens, flit guns were a novelty. They seemed to work, as the horde of Aldebaranean moths fell back before the jets of pesticide that Jack, Ianto, Gwen and Tosh poured over them from behind a fabric store counter.

"Was that all?" Tosh asked, sounding fearful for the first time since the battle started.

"Hope that was the last of them," Jack said, reloading another canister of bug spray.

"Should try lighting the spray with a zippo," Ianto suggested.

"Toasted bugs?" Gwen asked, looking up from reloading, an approving smirk crossing her face.

"It'd work, if any of us smoked," Jack said, rearing up behind the counter. "Wish I'd thought to pack the flamethrower."

Gwen looked past Jack's hip, staring toward the ceiling. "Um, Jack... about those pupae cases you said were in the rafters?"

The suspended tiles overhead rained down as a flock of moths divebombed Jack, wings beating madly as they swarmed him, mandibles clattering as they pounced on the fabric of his greatcoat. Emitting a whoop, Jack fought to free himself, but the bugs hemmed him in from all sides. Another two moths pounced on Ianto, gnawing on his silk tie.

"What are they doing?!" Gwen cried.

"Moths eat anything made from animal hair," Tosh yelled, trying to smack the moths that covered Jack.

"But silk?" Gwen asked, squishing one of the moths attacking Ianto, who grabbed the wings of the other, which flailed angrily in his grasp.

"Comes from silkworms, silk moth larvae," Tosh replied. "Moths eat their own pupa cases when they mature."

"Doesn't help the fact that they're eating my coat off my back!" Jack yelled, freeing himself and hurling the tattered garment to the floor before stomping on the feasting moths.

Gwen dowsed the swarm with a jet. The bugs collapsed, wriggling in convulsions before Jack stomped them out of their misery.

The greatcoat lay in tatters at their feet, a total loss. "Dammit, I'll have to scare up another," Jack growled.

"Maybe have one made up in fabric that's less of a delicacy," Ianto suggested, glumly surveying the gnawed ribbon about his neck.

"Over my dead body, which ain't happening any time soon!" Jack snarled.
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