Fic: A Day in the Life (1/3?)
Title: A Day in the Life
Author: Julie S
Characters/pairings: Jack/Rose, Torchwood team
Rating: R
Spoilers: Torchwood, S2
Summary: Hunting Weevils hasn’t exactly been her favourite part of the job since she’s crossed over the Rift, but it’s all in a day’s work.
This was written for the Jack/Rose Winter Ficathon, for aibhinn. Much thanks to my fantastic beta, wendymr! :)
A Day in the Life
Chapter One
Rose walks through the glass doors in the Hub, precariously balancing two paper cups and two white paper bags in her hands, and gently dumps the load on Jack’s large desk before sitting down opposite him, visibly relieved at having made it there without accident. “Breakfast,” she announces after she’s slumped back in a chair.
Jack grins, having observed her stride. “I was wondering where you’d gone off to after we came in.”
Rose smiles and pushes one of the cups and one of the bags at him. “Well, you know, some of us don’t like to hunt aliens on an empty stomach.”
He laughs and accepts her offering. “That’s why I love you. Careful with this, though,” he adds, gesturing at the cup in front of him. “I hope Ianto didn’t see you smuggling in outside coffee.”
“Oh,” she says with a wave of her hand, opening her own and taking a sip. “He’ll forgive me. It’s not like there’s any left by now anyway, Owen drinks about a gallon of it as soon as he comes in.”
“Well, if someone hadn’t abused her snooze button all morning-”
“Careful,” Rose warns, cutting him off. “I can take this away.” She gestures to his coffee.
Jack laughs. “I’d better drink it first, then.” He opens the lid and sips carefully.
“I think you’d better.” She’s laughing. “’Sides, something kept me up half the night.”
“And if you think I’m going to apologise, you’re sadly mistaken,” he retorts with a wink.
A comfortable silence settles as they tuck into the pastries Rose selected.
Eventually Jack breaks the quiet. “So, how’s that report coming along?”
Rose takes another sip from her cup before answering. “Would be going a lot better if you hadn’t retconned, oh, I don’t know - every single witness?”
Jack snorts. “Sorry. But you still have CCTV.”
“S’ not the same - there was only one camera. Only one angle.”
“Do your best,” he says and crumples the paper bag. “Torchwood reports haven’t always been exactly thorough.”
“Doesn’t mean we can’t try to make them so.”
“No,” Jack agrees.
As they slowly finish their coffee and the idle conversation goes on to a different topic, Ianto enters the office. “Sorry to interrupt this lovely domestic moment, but we’ve got weevils on CCTV. Would you like to do the honours?”
Great, she thinks cynically. Hunting Weevils hasn’t exactly been her favourite part of the job since she’s crossed over the Rift, but it’s all in a day’s work when one works at a secret alien-hunting organisation whose headquarters rest under a famous Welsh landmark.
* * *
Jack’s ears were still ringing with the explosion as he shook his head at Gwen’s question, reeling with relief.
The city was safe, Gwen was alive, and Captain John was gone. He tried to ignore the Time Agent’s parting message. Like Gwen had said, the man was a compulsive liar.
“It’s nothing,” he said finally. “Let’s get back to work.” He turned on his heel and made for the interior of the building.
He turned around again when the whisper of disturbance in the fabric of the rift resounded again. “I thought I said I didn’t want you on my territory,” he began before he could turn back completely. “What -“
But when he was facing the place where the Rift had closed again, his words failed him. The Time Agent wasn’t back. The window in the Rift was closing a second time, behind the person who had stepped through it. She was young, blonde, carried a black oversized shoulder bag, and held what appeared to be a large button on a chain. The hand that was wasn’t gripping it with white knuckles was frozen above it. And, he realised after a second’s pause, that she was looking at him, wide-eyed.
The rest of his team were quiet at his flanks, probably waiting for his reaction.
She threw the object away from her before he could speak. “It worked,” she said, almost inaudibly, and her expression didn’t change.
Jack shook his head, and crossed the distance between them with three swift steps. She looked up at him as he searched her eyes, taking her hands in his. “Rose?”
“Jack?” she replied instantly, though hesitantly.
He grinned and drew her into a hug. “You’re going to explain what just happened, but I don’t care for the next few minutes.”
She laughed, seeming to finally recover from her own shock. She had obviously not expected ‘it’ to work.
When he withdrew from the hug, still gripping her shoulders, he realised she was trembling. “Rose, are you okay?” he asked warily.
“Yeah,” she said with a grin of her own, but the way her eyelids were beginning to flutter and the way she began to sway in his arms was telling.
“You look a little dizzy.”
She squinted, grinned at him, and replied breathily, “And you’re - you’re not even in focus.”
He laughed at the memory she was bringing up, until she finally collapsed in his arms.
And that was when he remembered that the rest of the team were behind him. As Jack knelt and laid her down, gently taking care to cradle her head in his lap, Owen took the liberty of crouching beside him to check Rose’s wrist for her pulse. Gwen had also approached, though she didn’t touch her. Ianto and Toshiko hung back.
Jack didn’t say anything as Owen worked, and finally Gwen broke the silence, although Jack had the feeling that it had only, in reality, stretched for a few seconds, instead of the minutes it had felt like. “You know her?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Blimey,” Owen interjected as he shone a torch into Rose’s eyes. “The Rift is spitting out a family reunion for you. Got back just in time.”
A beat of silence as Gwen probably considered her words. “Is she a Time Agent too? From the future?”
“No,” he said, “She’s from our time. Born in 1987.”
“So then where did she come from?” That voice belonged to Toshiko.
“A parallel universe.”
“What do you mean?” That was Gwen again, but presently Owen finally looked up and sat back on his haunches, and Jack ignored the question to listen to what he had to say.
“Heart rate was quick but decreasing to normal, she’s breathing steadily, and pupils reacting normally. She fainted. Probably not dehydrated, but possibly from exhaustion.”
Exhaustion. No wonder she had trembled in his arms, trying to keep herself going. He wondered how she had got through the rift and how long it had taken her; how long had it been since she had last slept, eaten, had a glass of water?
Reassured of her well-being, at least for now, he drew her closer and cradled her fully in his arms. “Okay, we can’t go back to the Hub because we were there earlier, don’t you just love time travel? And you’ve all had a long night. Go home.”
“What about her?” Gwen asked.
“I’ll take care of her,” he said. “If it’s exhaustion, she’ll be fine.”
Owen raised his eyebrows, still sat on the ground. “I said probably, not that I was sure. Can’t go to the Hub, but if she’s from our time she can go to hospital.”
He shook his head. “She doesn’t have ID, or none from this world, and she’s been missing, presumed dead for a year.”
Owen sighed dramatically. “Right, then, anything for a pretty bird. I don’t suppose I’ll get a pay-rise if I say she can stay at my flat?”
Jack didn’t know what his face looked like, but it had probably been more threatening than he meant for it to, because Owen instantly clarified his words: “You can both stay at my flat, I mean.”
Jack sighed with some relief as he considered it, and slowly nodded. The reality was, he didn’t know what to do with Rose. Owen was right: he hadn’t said it was certain her condition was due to mere exhaustion. God only knew what she had been through in the Rift, although she didn’t look injured. And the only place he could think to take her for the night was the small hostel where they had put their misplaced guests, several months before - and there were no doctors there, nor guaranteed space.
“Thank you,” he said, as earnestly as he could manage. To the rest of the team, he reiterated his earlier command. “The rest of you can go home. Don’t go near the Hub before morning. If you need to contact anyone, call landlines, not the Torchwood comms or mobiles. Gwen, Tosh, take the sportscar. We’ll take the SUV. Ianto, we’ll drop you off on our way.”
“But, Jack-“ Gwen started and he cut her off.
“I’ll explain in the morning. I don’t know how she came through.”
This seemed to placate her for the moment, because she resignedly nodded and made for the red car with Toshiko in tow.
Owen helped Jack stand with Rose in his arms and Ianto already had the door to the back seat of the SUV held open for him. He thanked him with a nod and a tight-lipped smile.
Not long after they had driven out of the car park, Jack gently laid Rose down on the bed in Owen’s guest room.
He had been surprised that Owen had taken care to set up a guest room at all, but the effort that had gone into the room reflected his hospitality: Owen had gone to sleep after, as he had directed Jack to the bedroom, telling him to help himself to anything in the kitchen and wake him up for any medical emergency.
It wasn’t fancy, apart from the large glass wall that allowed a panoramic view of Cardiff. The simple bed was made with crisp white sheets, and flanked with two bare bedside tables. An empty dressing table and wardrobe stood opposite the bed. And on the fourth wall, near the door, a large abstract painting on a frameless canvas had been hung. At a guess, he thought Owen had probably purchased the monstrosity as an attempt at pretending he had a clue, and had stuck it in the guest room when he had realised he didn’t want to look at it every day. It was the only painting in the flat, from what he had briefly seen.
Jack couldn’t help but think it had some charm, being the only source of any colour in the room.
He turned to Rose again. Practicality first; then he would have the entire night to drown in his thoughts and questions. She was wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Possibly dressed to travel, he couldn’t help thinking, but then again, when he had known her, that had been her uniform.
She could keep the t-shirt. The jeans wouldn’t do. He dragged them off her carefully, trying not to think of how many times he had imagined doing just this, more than a century ago. After a few moments’ hesitation, he unhooked her bra as well, and, with, perhaps, unusual skill for someone who didn’t regularly wear one, slid it off from under her shirt.
Rose had made several sounds and movements as he had carried her to the bed and undressed her, which suggested she was asleep and Owen had been right in his assessment. He threw back the covers and tucked her under a blanket, gently, taking care not to wake her up. Then he sat back to look at her.
She looked subtly older now; not a noticeable change in features but the previously overly made-up eyes were minimally touched up, and her hair, though still probably classified as blond, was just dark enough to clash less harshly with its roots. It was shorter than it had been then, too, falling just below her shoulders in a neat cut.
She still looked every bit as beautiful as he remembered.
A short trip to the foyer of the flat and back, and he retrieved the bag she had been carrying, along with the device she had been holding. He laid the device on top of the dressing table; he couldn’t exactly examine it at the moment. The bag was zipped closed, and he hesitated to open it.
His hand hovered over the zip for a few seconds, but eventually, he decided against it. He stood it on the bedside table closest to him, instead, and leaned back on the glass wall to look at Rose again.
She occupied a small half of the queen-sized bed, and as she slept peacefully, Jack felt a wave of protective instinct. He didn’t know when - if - he would see the Doctor again, but he would keep Rose safe for him.
Finally, when he became tired of fidgeting, throwing glances at the bag near the bed and the device on top of the dresser, and alternately watching Cardiff twinkle and Rose sleep, he lay down beside her, not touching her, and counted her breaths.
He drifted in and out of sleep, tired and concerned. When he opened his eyes for the third time, he turned to Rose instinctively. She was still asleep, but she was lying on her side, facing him, and presently the sun was rising and the sky wore the glow of dawn.
She looked paler than she probably was, in the dissipating darkness, but it took an effort to quell Jack’s sudden pangs of guilt; perhaps he should have taken her to hospital after all.
John would be disappearing in less than an hour; he could take her back to the Hub then. He’d have to wake her up, but he was beginning to feel uncomfortable with how long she’d been unconscious now.
As if she’d heard his thoughts in her dreams, Rose stirred. Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked at him for a few seconds before she seemed to take him in. “Jack,” she whispered, finally.
“Yeah,” he replied quietly, with a smile. “Good to know you haven’t forgotten my name.”
The cheap attempt at lightening the mood didn’t work. She sat up sharply, and her eyes widened. “Jack, I remember - what happened?”
“Careful,” he said, as she leaned back onto a pillow, having sat up too quickly. He passed her a glass of water he had prepared for her, and she took it gratefully.
“You’ll have to fill me in,” Jack said as she sipped, “but I can tell you that you came through the Rift - literally walked out, not fell out, with that thing -“ He gestured to the device which still lay on top of the dresser - “And then you passed out for a good few hours.”
“Sorry,” she said apologetically, setting the glass aside. “I didn’t know that could happen.”
“Rose, you crossed the Rift on purpose?”
“Of course I did.” She shook her head. “Never mind that for a minute, though.” She reached for him and touched his cheek lightly. “Jack, I thought you were dead all this time. What happened to you?”
Jack smiled. “No, Rose. I lived.” He cupped her cheek, mirroring her. “You saved me when you looked into the TARDIS.”
She frowned. “How do you know about that?”
He dropped his hand and his smile. He didn’t want to talk about the Doctor yet, not before finding out how Rose had got here, but she was forcing him to. “I saw the Doctor again. The new Doctor.”
Rose bit her lip. “So you can contact him?”
He shook his head. “No. Well, I don’t think so. But he’ll drop in, eventually. The next time the world almost ends.”
She shook her head, apparently choosing not to ask about the reference to the end of the world. “I missed you.” And she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck in a fierce hug which he returned.
“I missed you too. Thought you were dead, too, until he said you weren’t.”
Rose leaned back, not letting go of him. “Jack?”
“Yes?”
“I hope there’s a reason for why I’m not wearing trousers.”
He laughed. “Sorry. I took them off. I thought you’d be more comfortable.”
She smiled. “Yeah. Thanks. Suppose that’s okay.” Looking past his shoulder, she finally seemed to take in her surroundings. “Pretty posh,” she said, gesturing to the panoramic windows. “Wouldn’t have thought you’d go for that.”
“Oh, this isn’t my place. The team doctor lent us his spare room, because you had to go and pass out.” He gestured to the view. “Gorgeous, though, isn’t it? Not exactly the first thing that comes to mind when you think of Cardiff...”
“Cardiff?” she asked, then burst out laughing. “God, I should have known... Why is it always Cardiff?”
“I know,” he agreed, chuckling. “It’s the Rift, though. I run Torchwood - we watch it.”
“You’re with Torchwood?” she asked with a frown.
He sighed. “Yes, but before you say anything, I know what happened with the Daleks and Cybermen, and that wasn’t me - it’s different here. That was Torchwood One. It was destroyed.”
Rose looked at her lap and leaned back against her pillow again. Jack didn’t move. “I worked for Torchwood back on the other world. We built our own version. Built that thing.” She pointed to the dresser. “It was used to go between worlds. Didn’t work once the breach was sealed, but I thought it could be manipulated to work with a different breach.”
“The Rift.”
“Yeah. Back there, the Rift is in London. It took a while, but I thought it would work if the Rift was weak enough.”
The silly, brave girl. Even without knowing the specific details of what she’d done, he could tell how dangerous it was.
His horror must have showed in his expression because she grabbed his arm and said, “I know it was dangerous, Jack, but I don’t care, and - I can’t die anyway.”
He straightened at that, even more horrified. “What do you mean, you can’t die?”
She looked into his eyes. “I can’t die.” She laughed in a hysterical sort of way, which scared him. “Jack, I’ve been shot, drowned, I’ve fallen from places too high to hear the ground. I let them do experiments on me.” At his reaction, she qualified the statement. “Pete - my dad in that world - he ran it, and he never would’ve let them hurt me. But they couldn’t anyway. Or find what’s wrong. And the Doctor never knew. I never died when I was with him.”
A stone settled in the pit of his stomach. The Doctor had called him wrong - he was left to find his own way, while Rose was taken along for the adventure. But he gritted his teeth and put it out of his mind. He’d deal with the Doctor when the chance came.
Instead, he took her free hand in his. “Rose, sweetheart, I don’t know why it affected you this way too, but when you brought me back - when you and the TARDIS brought me back - you did the same to me.”
Her eyes widened in shock. “Oh, God.”
“Hey, it’s okay,” he said, smiling. “I’m alive. Better than turning into Dalek dust with them.”
A tear trickled down her cheek and she hugged him again.
Selfishly, all he could think of was that an eternity of years down the line, he might still have her.
* * *
TBC
Author: Julie S
Characters/pairings: Jack/Rose, Torchwood team
Rating: R
Spoilers: Torchwood, S2
Summary: Hunting Weevils hasn’t exactly been her favourite part of the job since she’s crossed over the Rift, but it’s all in a day’s work.
This was written for the Jack/Rose Winter Ficathon, for aibhinn. Much thanks to my fantastic beta, wendymr! :)
A Day in the Life
Chapter One
Rose walks through the glass doors in the Hub, precariously balancing two paper cups and two white paper bags in her hands, and gently dumps the load on Jack’s large desk before sitting down opposite him, visibly relieved at having made it there without accident. “Breakfast,” she announces after she’s slumped back in a chair.
Jack grins, having observed her stride. “I was wondering where you’d gone off to after we came in.”
Rose smiles and pushes one of the cups and one of the bags at him. “Well, you know, some of us don’t like to hunt aliens on an empty stomach.”
He laughs and accepts her offering. “That’s why I love you. Careful with this, though,” he adds, gesturing at the cup in front of him. “I hope Ianto didn’t see you smuggling in outside coffee.”
“Oh,” she says with a wave of her hand, opening her own and taking a sip. “He’ll forgive me. It’s not like there’s any left by now anyway, Owen drinks about a gallon of it as soon as he comes in.”
“Well, if someone hadn’t abused her snooze button all morning-”
“Careful,” Rose warns, cutting him off. “I can take this away.” She gestures to his coffee.
Jack laughs. “I’d better drink it first, then.” He opens the lid and sips carefully.
“I think you’d better.” She’s laughing. “’Sides, something kept me up half the night.”
“And if you think I’m going to apologise, you’re sadly mistaken,” he retorts with a wink.
A comfortable silence settles as they tuck into the pastries Rose selected.
Eventually Jack breaks the quiet. “So, how’s that report coming along?”
Rose takes another sip from her cup before answering. “Would be going a lot better if you hadn’t retconned, oh, I don’t know - every single witness?”
Jack snorts. “Sorry. But you still have CCTV.”
“S’ not the same - there was only one camera. Only one angle.”
“Do your best,” he says and crumples the paper bag. “Torchwood reports haven’t always been exactly thorough.”
“Doesn’t mean we can’t try to make them so.”
“No,” Jack agrees.
As they slowly finish their coffee and the idle conversation goes on to a different topic, Ianto enters the office. “Sorry to interrupt this lovely domestic moment, but we’ve got weevils on CCTV. Would you like to do the honours?”
Great, she thinks cynically. Hunting Weevils hasn’t exactly been her favourite part of the job since she’s crossed over the Rift, but it’s all in a day’s work when one works at a secret alien-hunting organisation whose headquarters rest under a famous Welsh landmark.
* * *
Jack’s ears were still ringing with the explosion as he shook his head at Gwen’s question, reeling with relief.
The city was safe, Gwen was alive, and Captain John was gone. He tried to ignore the Time Agent’s parting message. Like Gwen had said, the man was a compulsive liar.
“It’s nothing,” he said finally. “Let’s get back to work.” He turned on his heel and made for the interior of the building.
He turned around again when the whisper of disturbance in the fabric of the rift resounded again. “I thought I said I didn’t want you on my territory,” he began before he could turn back completely. “What -“
But when he was facing the place where the Rift had closed again, his words failed him. The Time Agent wasn’t back. The window in the Rift was closing a second time, behind the person who had stepped through it. She was young, blonde, carried a black oversized shoulder bag, and held what appeared to be a large button on a chain. The hand that was wasn’t gripping it with white knuckles was frozen above it. And, he realised after a second’s pause, that she was looking at him, wide-eyed.
The rest of his team were quiet at his flanks, probably waiting for his reaction.
She threw the object away from her before he could speak. “It worked,” she said, almost inaudibly, and her expression didn’t change.
Jack shook his head, and crossed the distance between them with three swift steps. She looked up at him as he searched her eyes, taking her hands in his. “Rose?”
“Jack?” she replied instantly, though hesitantly.
He grinned and drew her into a hug. “You’re going to explain what just happened, but I don’t care for the next few minutes.”
She laughed, seeming to finally recover from her own shock. She had obviously not expected ‘it’ to work.
When he withdrew from the hug, still gripping her shoulders, he realised she was trembling. “Rose, are you okay?” he asked warily.
“Yeah,” she said with a grin of her own, but the way her eyelids were beginning to flutter and the way she began to sway in his arms was telling.
“You look a little dizzy.”
She squinted, grinned at him, and replied breathily, “And you’re - you’re not even in focus.”
He laughed at the memory she was bringing up, until she finally collapsed in his arms.
And that was when he remembered that the rest of the team were behind him. As Jack knelt and laid her down, gently taking care to cradle her head in his lap, Owen took the liberty of crouching beside him to check Rose’s wrist for her pulse. Gwen had also approached, though she didn’t touch her. Ianto and Toshiko hung back.
Jack didn’t say anything as Owen worked, and finally Gwen broke the silence, although Jack had the feeling that it had only, in reality, stretched for a few seconds, instead of the minutes it had felt like. “You know her?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Blimey,” Owen interjected as he shone a torch into Rose’s eyes. “The Rift is spitting out a family reunion for you. Got back just in time.”
A beat of silence as Gwen probably considered her words. “Is she a Time Agent too? From the future?”
“No,” he said, “She’s from our time. Born in 1987.”
“So then where did she come from?” That voice belonged to Toshiko.
“A parallel universe.”
“What do you mean?” That was Gwen again, but presently Owen finally looked up and sat back on his haunches, and Jack ignored the question to listen to what he had to say.
“Heart rate was quick but decreasing to normal, she’s breathing steadily, and pupils reacting normally. She fainted. Probably not dehydrated, but possibly from exhaustion.”
Exhaustion. No wonder she had trembled in his arms, trying to keep herself going. He wondered how she had got through the rift and how long it had taken her; how long had it been since she had last slept, eaten, had a glass of water?
Reassured of her well-being, at least for now, he drew her closer and cradled her fully in his arms. “Okay, we can’t go back to the Hub because we were there earlier, don’t you just love time travel? And you’ve all had a long night. Go home.”
“What about her?” Gwen asked.
“I’ll take care of her,” he said. “If it’s exhaustion, she’ll be fine.”
Owen raised his eyebrows, still sat on the ground. “I said probably, not that I was sure. Can’t go to the Hub, but if she’s from our time she can go to hospital.”
He shook his head. “She doesn’t have ID, or none from this world, and she’s been missing, presumed dead for a year.”
Owen sighed dramatically. “Right, then, anything for a pretty bird. I don’t suppose I’ll get a pay-rise if I say she can stay at my flat?”
Jack didn’t know what his face looked like, but it had probably been more threatening than he meant for it to, because Owen instantly clarified his words: “You can both stay at my flat, I mean.”
Jack sighed with some relief as he considered it, and slowly nodded. The reality was, he didn’t know what to do with Rose. Owen was right: he hadn’t said it was certain her condition was due to mere exhaustion. God only knew what she had been through in the Rift, although she didn’t look injured. And the only place he could think to take her for the night was the small hostel where they had put their misplaced guests, several months before - and there were no doctors there, nor guaranteed space.
“Thank you,” he said, as earnestly as he could manage. To the rest of the team, he reiterated his earlier command. “The rest of you can go home. Don’t go near the Hub before morning. If you need to contact anyone, call landlines, not the Torchwood comms or mobiles. Gwen, Tosh, take the sportscar. We’ll take the SUV. Ianto, we’ll drop you off on our way.”
“But, Jack-“ Gwen started and he cut her off.
“I’ll explain in the morning. I don’t know how she came through.”
This seemed to placate her for the moment, because she resignedly nodded and made for the red car with Toshiko in tow.
Owen helped Jack stand with Rose in his arms and Ianto already had the door to the back seat of the SUV held open for him. He thanked him with a nod and a tight-lipped smile.
Not long after they had driven out of the car park, Jack gently laid Rose down on the bed in Owen’s guest room.
He had been surprised that Owen had taken care to set up a guest room at all, but the effort that had gone into the room reflected his hospitality: Owen had gone to sleep after, as he had directed Jack to the bedroom, telling him to help himself to anything in the kitchen and wake him up for any medical emergency.
It wasn’t fancy, apart from the large glass wall that allowed a panoramic view of Cardiff. The simple bed was made with crisp white sheets, and flanked with two bare bedside tables. An empty dressing table and wardrobe stood opposite the bed. And on the fourth wall, near the door, a large abstract painting on a frameless canvas had been hung. At a guess, he thought Owen had probably purchased the monstrosity as an attempt at pretending he had a clue, and had stuck it in the guest room when he had realised he didn’t want to look at it every day. It was the only painting in the flat, from what he had briefly seen.
Jack couldn’t help but think it had some charm, being the only source of any colour in the room.
He turned to Rose again. Practicality first; then he would have the entire night to drown in his thoughts and questions. She was wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Possibly dressed to travel, he couldn’t help thinking, but then again, when he had known her, that had been her uniform.
She could keep the t-shirt. The jeans wouldn’t do. He dragged them off her carefully, trying not to think of how many times he had imagined doing just this, more than a century ago. After a few moments’ hesitation, he unhooked her bra as well, and, with, perhaps, unusual skill for someone who didn’t regularly wear one, slid it off from under her shirt.
Rose had made several sounds and movements as he had carried her to the bed and undressed her, which suggested she was asleep and Owen had been right in his assessment. He threw back the covers and tucked her under a blanket, gently, taking care not to wake her up. Then he sat back to look at her.
She looked subtly older now; not a noticeable change in features but the previously overly made-up eyes were minimally touched up, and her hair, though still probably classified as blond, was just dark enough to clash less harshly with its roots. It was shorter than it had been then, too, falling just below her shoulders in a neat cut.
She still looked every bit as beautiful as he remembered.
A short trip to the foyer of the flat and back, and he retrieved the bag she had been carrying, along with the device she had been holding. He laid the device on top of the dressing table; he couldn’t exactly examine it at the moment. The bag was zipped closed, and he hesitated to open it.
His hand hovered over the zip for a few seconds, but eventually, he decided against it. He stood it on the bedside table closest to him, instead, and leaned back on the glass wall to look at Rose again.
She occupied a small half of the queen-sized bed, and as she slept peacefully, Jack felt a wave of protective instinct. He didn’t know when - if - he would see the Doctor again, but he would keep Rose safe for him.
Finally, when he became tired of fidgeting, throwing glances at the bag near the bed and the device on top of the dresser, and alternately watching Cardiff twinkle and Rose sleep, he lay down beside her, not touching her, and counted her breaths.
He drifted in and out of sleep, tired and concerned. When he opened his eyes for the third time, he turned to Rose instinctively. She was still asleep, but she was lying on her side, facing him, and presently the sun was rising and the sky wore the glow of dawn.
She looked paler than she probably was, in the dissipating darkness, but it took an effort to quell Jack’s sudden pangs of guilt; perhaps he should have taken her to hospital after all.
John would be disappearing in less than an hour; he could take her back to the Hub then. He’d have to wake her up, but he was beginning to feel uncomfortable with how long she’d been unconscious now.
As if she’d heard his thoughts in her dreams, Rose stirred. Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked at him for a few seconds before she seemed to take him in. “Jack,” she whispered, finally.
“Yeah,” he replied quietly, with a smile. “Good to know you haven’t forgotten my name.”
The cheap attempt at lightening the mood didn’t work. She sat up sharply, and her eyes widened. “Jack, I remember - what happened?”
“Careful,” he said, as she leaned back onto a pillow, having sat up too quickly. He passed her a glass of water he had prepared for her, and she took it gratefully.
“You’ll have to fill me in,” Jack said as she sipped, “but I can tell you that you came through the Rift - literally walked out, not fell out, with that thing -“ He gestured to the device which still lay on top of the dresser - “And then you passed out for a good few hours.”
“Sorry,” she said apologetically, setting the glass aside. “I didn’t know that could happen.”
“Rose, you crossed the Rift on purpose?”
“Of course I did.” She shook her head. “Never mind that for a minute, though.” She reached for him and touched his cheek lightly. “Jack, I thought you were dead all this time. What happened to you?”
Jack smiled. “No, Rose. I lived.” He cupped her cheek, mirroring her. “You saved me when you looked into the TARDIS.”
She frowned. “How do you know about that?”
He dropped his hand and his smile. He didn’t want to talk about the Doctor yet, not before finding out how Rose had got here, but she was forcing him to. “I saw the Doctor again. The new Doctor.”
Rose bit her lip. “So you can contact him?”
He shook his head. “No. Well, I don’t think so. But he’ll drop in, eventually. The next time the world almost ends.”
She shook her head, apparently choosing not to ask about the reference to the end of the world. “I missed you.” And she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck in a fierce hug which he returned.
“I missed you too. Thought you were dead, too, until he said you weren’t.”
Rose leaned back, not letting go of him. “Jack?”
“Yes?”
“I hope there’s a reason for why I’m not wearing trousers.”
He laughed. “Sorry. I took them off. I thought you’d be more comfortable.”
She smiled. “Yeah. Thanks. Suppose that’s okay.” Looking past his shoulder, she finally seemed to take in her surroundings. “Pretty posh,” she said, gesturing to the panoramic windows. “Wouldn’t have thought you’d go for that.”
“Oh, this isn’t my place. The team doctor lent us his spare room, because you had to go and pass out.” He gestured to the view. “Gorgeous, though, isn’t it? Not exactly the first thing that comes to mind when you think of Cardiff...”
“Cardiff?” she asked, then burst out laughing. “God, I should have known... Why is it always Cardiff?”
“I know,” he agreed, chuckling. “It’s the Rift, though. I run Torchwood - we watch it.”
“You’re with Torchwood?” she asked with a frown.
He sighed. “Yes, but before you say anything, I know what happened with the Daleks and Cybermen, and that wasn’t me - it’s different here. That was Torchwood One. It was destroyed.”
Rose looked at her lap and leaned back against her pillow again. Jack didn’t move. “I worked for Torchwood back on the other world. We built our own version. Built that thing.” She pointed to the dresser. “It was used to go between worlds. Didn’t work once the breach was sealed, but I thought it could be manipulated to work with a different breach.”
“The Rift.”
“Yeah. Back there, the Rift is in London. It took a while, but I thought it would work if the Rift was weak enough.”
The silly, brave girl. Even without knowing the specific details of what she’d done, he could tell how dangerous it was.
His horror must have showed in his expression because she grabbed his arm and said, “I know it was dangerous, Jack, but I don’t care, and - I can’t die anyway.”
He straightened at that, even more horrified. “What do you mean, you can’t die?”
She looked into his eyes. “I can’t die.” She laughed in a hysterical sort of way, which scared him. “Jack, I’ve been shot, drowned, I’ve fallen from places too high to hear the ground. I let them do experiments on me.” At his reaction, she qualified the statement. “Pete - my dad in that world - he ran it, and he never would’ve let them hurt me. But they couldn’t anyway. Or find what’s wrong. And the Doctor never knew. I never died when I was with him.”
A stone settled in the pit of his stomach. The Doctor had called him wrong - he was left to find his own way, while Rose was taken along for the adventure. But he gritted his teeth and put it out of his mind. He’d deal with the Doctor when the chance came.
Instead, he took her free hand in his. “Rose, sweetheart, I don’t know why it affected you this way too, but when you brought me back - when you and the TARDIS brought me back - you did the same to me.”
Her eyes widened in shock. “Oh, God.”
“Hey, it’s okay,” he said, smiling. “I’m alive. Better than turning into Dalek dust with them.”
A tear trickled down her cheek and she hugged him again.
Selfishly, all he could think of was that an eternity of years down the line, he might still have her.
* * *
TBC