FIC: Love Song for a Warrior
Title: Love Song for a Warrior (Red Is My Colour Prompt for Day Twenty-four)
Author: blue_fjords
Setting: season one, post “They Keep Killing Suzie”
Words: 1,600
Characters/Pairings: Tosh, Jack, Ianto, Gwen, Owen
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: Tosh is awesome, the team rescues an alien.
A/N: “Meiyo,” according to the Internets, is Japanese for “honor.” If you know Japanese and that’s wrong, please let me know!
Prompt:
O Winter! frozen pulse and heart of fire,
What loss is theirs who from thy kingdom turn
Dismayed, and think thy snow a sculptured urn
Of death! Far sooner in midsummer tire
The streams than under ice. June could not hire
Her roses to forego the strength they learn
In sleeping on thy breast. No fires can burn
The bridges thou dost lay where men desire
In vain to build.
O Heart, when Love's sun goes
To northward, and the sounds of singing cease,
Keep warm by inner fires, and rest in peace.
Sleep on content, as sleeps the patient rose.
Walk boldly on the white untrodden snows,
The winter is the winter's own release.
--Helen Hunt Jackson
A Calendar of Sonnets: January
Tosh moved like a ghost through the trees, firearm gripped firmly in her right hand, eyes darting to the left and then the right. The edge of Jack’s coat flashed ahead of her. The cold froze her breath and numbed her fingers, but she could not feel it. Her entire being thrummed with energy, the excitement of the hunt. She spent her life with machines, eyes glued to screens, fingers dancing over keys, mind wrestling with equations and codings, but it was in these situations that she truly felt alive.
Jack glanced back at her and gestured with his fingers. Go to the left and stay low. Tosh crouched, and flitted to the next bush. Six paces forward, and she could smell the blood.
Gwen lay huddled in the middle of the clearing, body curled protectively around a glowing object. The Flagela, or “Winter Star,” is extremely rare and highly coveted for its ability to provide warmth and healing on even the coldest nights, in the direst circumstances, Tosh’s brain automatically supplied, quoting from mainframe’s database of alien life forms.
Tosh tightened her grip on her gun. There were three sets of glowing eyes across the clearing from her, circling Gwen and the Flagela.
“Tosh,” Ianto’s voice breathed in her ear. The comm link barely picked up his words. “Those are Bakshi. You have to hit them between the eyes to take them out. Be careful of their claws.”
Tosh’s lips peeled back in a fierce smile. She welcomed the challenge, needed the challenge. “Meiyo,” she whispered to herself. She could feel Jack to her right, and without looking, knew he took a step forward at the same time she did.
Two shots rang out, two Bakshi fell. The third one froze, head down, and sent up a keening wail that stirred the hairs on the back of Tosh’s neck. It was answered by at least a dozen voices, echoing through the woods. Jack began to laugh. Tosh raised her weapon again, and calmly shot the wailing Bakshi between the eyes.
Bakshi dropped from the trees on the edge of the clearing, and she and Jack ran to Gwen, taking up stations on either side of her. Jack reached into his coat, pulled out an extra gun, and passed it off to Gwen. The Bakshi hesitated for a moment at the prospect of three armed defenders, but the light of the Flagela was too tempting. They roared their challenge.
Tosh answered back with her own wordless roar, aimed, and fired. And again. And again. Suzie had taught her how to shoot with this very weapon, her second day at Torchwood. “Jack likes to do this, but we’re the same build. I’ll let him train you on the big gun, but for your everyday shooting, I’m your best bet,” and she had smiled and handed over this gun. Then she had betrayed their directive, and come back to rub it in. Tosh snarled, and shot a Bakshi down just a moment before its claws could part Gwen’s head from her shoulders. Another Bakshi barreled into her, knocking her down, but Tosh scissored her legs beneath her, regaining her traction, just as Jack had taught her that first week. “I’m not pushing you around to be cruel, Toshiko; I want you to build up your strength,” he had laughed down at her, pinning her to the floor, and had leaned down and kissed her forehead and the tip of her nose. Then he had sent her lover to the center of the sun, but he was right - she was so much stronger now. The Bakshi felt it, as her next bullet landed square between its eyes.
Adrenaline was coursing through her veins, heightening her senses and perceptions, cluing her in to the weaknesses of her opponents. The Bakshi had sharp claws and long arms, but they were mercenaries. The Flagela represented only wealth to them. They did not need it, not as Jack and Gwen and Tosh did, and that caused them to try just a little less hard, to hesitate just a moment too long as they wondered if it was worth it. Tosh didn’t know how long they had been tracking the Flagela, but they were starting to show the effects in their sluggish responses.
Tosh took each weakness and ruthlessly exploited it. She tried harder, moved faster. Her brain strategized and presented her with Plans A, B, and C while the Bakshi swiped at her ineffectually with their claws, using the same moves over and over. She bared her teeth at them, and shot them down.
The fight took less than fifteen minutes. Tosh got the last Bakshi as it made a desperate leap for Jack.
The absence of gunfire took them all by surprise for a moment, and then Gwen gave a sharp cry of pain as the wound in her gut made itself known. Jack immediately knelt down beside her in the snow. The Flagela poked its head up out of Gwen’s jacket and as Jack and Tosh watched with held breath, it flittered over her skin for a handful of moments. Gwen gasped, and touched her stomach. The skin had healed over.
“Toshiko, she’ll still need help moving, can you run for me?” Jack grasped Gwen’s elbow, other arm circling her waist, and pulled her up. He gave Tosh a half-smile, but she could read the worry and fear in his eyes. She nodded and held out her hand to the Flagela.
“Once more unto the breach,” she whispered to it, tucking the creature securely into her jacket, and took off, dodging trees, leaping over branches. She ran for the two behind her: Gwen because she had never lost a teammate yet and, please God, she wouldn’t today, and Jack because he wasn’t as good at keeping a secret as he thought, not from her. She ran for the two in front of her: Owen because his hands were full of blood and each patient he lost took a chunk of his humanity with them, and Ianto because he should have died at Canary Wharf or in that basement in the Beacons but he hadn’t, he was re-learning how to live now. And she ran for herself, because she was a warrior and warriors always made it, just in the nick of time.
She heard them before she saw them, Owen’s curses blistering the air and Ianto’s labored breathing drowning out the rushing of her own blood through her ears. She leapt over one last log and fell to her knees beside them, skidding in Ianto’s blood in the trampled snow. Owen’s eyes were too painful to look at, so she took in the sight of Ianto’s mangled chest instead. She gave him a tight smile, and reached into her jacket for the Flagela.
The tiny creature danced along her hand, delicate wings beating the air before taking off to hover over Ianto. He watched with glazed eyes. Owen dug his bloody fingers into his hands and followed its every move with intense concentration. It took less than a minute, just a few seconds more than it had needed for Gwen’s wound.
Tosh sat back on her heels, satisfied, as Ianto pushed himself up into a sitting position and touched a finger to his whole chest in wonder. Owen stared at the Flagela.
Jack and Gwen came jogging up. Gwen still looked a little pale, but her face split into a wide grin when she saw Ianto, whole and healed. Jack looked at Ianto hungrily for a moment, and then turned to Tosh.
“Good work, Toshiko,” he said gravely. She inclined her head to him. A warrior did not make a fuss, but did what was necessary with no expectation of gratitude.
She stood up abruptly, and held out her hand to the Flagela. The battle wasn’t quite finished yet.
“We need to get our friend back to the Rift opening,” she said, looking up at Jack. He nodded, and moved forward to help Ianto to his feet, sweeping off his greatcoat and settling it around Ianto’s shoulders. Owen offered Gwen his arm to lean on, and they took off, Tosh in the lead. She finally holstered her gun, and drew out her PDA, her other weapon of choice, to track a route to the opening. It was still there, but had shrunk dramatically after spitting out its horde of Bakshi. The others gathered around her to say goodbye and thank you to the Flagela. She had no idea if it could understand, but it had repaid them for saving it from the Bakshi, so perhaps the words didn’t matter.
The Flagela leapt from her hand, flashing once in the cold winter air, and then it was gone, through the opening, which closed seamlessly behind it. Torchwood turned and began the trek back through the woods to the SUV.
Tomorrow, Tosh would go back to being a geek-soldier who used her mind and technical prowess as the chief weapons in her arsenal. Today, however, she had discovered that she had the soul of a warrior, no matter the circumstance. Not everyone had it, or wanted it, but it was hers. And she knew, even as the cold wind blew through the trees chilling their flesh, that colder times were coming. She would need it.
Author: blue_fjords
Setting: season one, post “They Keep Killing Suzie”
Words: 1,600
Characters/Pairings: Tosh, Jack, Ianto, Gwen, Owen
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: Tosh is awesome, the team rescues an alien.
A/N: “Meiyo,” according to the Internets, is Japanese for “honor.” If you know Japanese and that’s wrong, please let me know!
Prompt:
O Winter! frozen pulse and heart of fire,
What loss is theirs who from thy kingdom turn
Dismayed, and think thy snow a sculptured urn
Of death! Far sooner in midsummer tire
The streams than under ice. June could not hire
Her roses to forego the strength they learn
In sleeping on thy breast. No fires can burn
The bridges thou dost lay where men desire
In vain to build.
O Heart, when Love's sun goes
To northward, and the sounds of singing cease,
Keep warm by inner fires, and rest in peace.
Sleep on content, as sleeps the patient rose.
Walk boldly on the white untrodden snows,
The winter is the winter's own release.
--Helen Hunt Jackson
A Calendar of Sonnets: January
Tosh moved like a ghost through the trees, firearm gripped firmly in her right hand, eyes darting to the left and then the right. The edge of Jack’s coat flashed ahead of her. The cold froze her breath and numbed her fingers, but she could not feel it. Her entire being thrummed with energy, the excitement of the hunt. She spent her life with machines, eyes glued to screens, fingers dancing over keys, mind wrestling with equations and codings, but it was in these situations that she truly felt alive.
Jack glanced back at her and gestured with his fingers. Go to the left and stay low. Tosh crouched, and flitted to the next bush. Six paces forward, and she could smell the blood.
Gwen lay huddled in the middle of the clearing, body curled protectively around a glowing object. The Flagela, or “Winter Star,” is extremely rare and highly coveted for its ability to provide warmth and healing on even the coldest nights, in the direst circumstances, Tosh’s brain automatically supplied, quoting from mainframe’s database of alien life forms.
Tosh tightened her grip on her gun. There were three sets of glowing eyes across the clearing from her, circling Gwen and the Flagela.
“Tosh,” Ianto’s voice breathed in her ear. The comm link barely picked up his words. “Those are Bakshi. You have to hit them between the eyes to take them out. Be careful of their claws.”
Tosh’s lips peeled back in a fierce smile. She welcomed the challenge, needed the challenge. “Meiyo,” she whispered to herself. She could feel Jack to her right, and without looking, knew he took a step forward at the same time she did.
Two shots rang out, two Bakshi fell. The third one froze, head down, and sent up a keening wail that stirred the hairs on the back of Tosh’s neck. It was answered by at least a dozen voices, echoing through the woods. Jack began to laugh. Tosh raised her weapon again, and calmly shot the wailing Bakshi between the eyes.
Bakshi dropped from the trees on the edge of the clearing, and she and Jack ran to Gwen, taking up stations on either side of her. Jack reached into his coat, pulled out an extra gun, and passed it off to Gwen. The Bakshi hesitated for a moment at the prospect of three armed defenders, but the light of the Flagela was too tempting. They roared their challenge.
Tosh answered back with her own wordless roar, aimed, and fired. And again. And again. Suzie had taught her how to shoot with this very weapon, her second day at Torchwood. “Jack likes to do this, but we’re the same build. I’ll let him train you on the big gun, but for your everyday shooting, I’m your best bet,” and she had smiled and handed over this gun. Then she had betrayed their directive, and come back to rub it in. Tosh snarled, and shot a Bakshi down just a moment before its claws could part Gwen’s head from her shoulders. Another Bakshi barreled into her, knocking her down, but Tosh scissored her legs beneath her, regaining her traction, just as Jack had taught her that first week. “I’m not pushing you around to be cruel, Toshiko; I want you to build up your strength,” he had laughed down at her, pinning her to the floor, and had leaned down and kissed her forehead and the tip of her nose. Then he had sent her lover to the center of the sun, but he was right - she was so much stronger now. The Bakshi felt it, as her next bullet landed square between its eyes.
Adrenaline was coursing through her veins, heightening her senses and perceptions, cluing her in to the weaknesses of her opponents. The Bakshi had sharp claws and long arms, but they were mercenaries. The Flagela represented only wealth to them. They did not need it, not as Jack and Gwen and Tosh did, and that caused them to try just a little less hard, to hesitate just a moment too long as they wondered if it was worth it. Tosh didn’t know how long they had been tracking the Flagela, but they were starting to show the effects in their sluggish responses.
Tosh took each weakness and ruthlessly exploited it. She tried harder, moved faster. Her brain strategized and presented her with Plans A, B, and C while the Bakshi swiped at her ineffectually with their claws, using the same moves over and over. She bared her teeth at them, and shot them down.
The fight took less than fifteen minutes. Tosh got the last Bakshi as it made a desperate leap for Jack.
The absence of gunfire took them all by surprise for a moment, and then Gwen gave a sharp cry of pain as the wound in her gut made itself known. Jack immediately knelt down beside her in the snow. The Flagela poked its head up out of Gwen’s jacket and as Jack and Tosh watched with held breath, it flittered over her skin for a handful of moments. Gwen gasped, and touched her stomach. The skin had healed over.
“Toshiko, she’ll still need help moving, can you run for me?” Jack grasped Gwen’s elbow, other arm circling her waist, and pulled her up. He gave Tosh a half-smile, but she could read the worry and fear in his eyes. She nodded and held out her hand to the Flagela.
“Once more unto the breach,” she whispered to it, tucking the creature securely into her jacket, and took off, dodging trees, leaping over branches. She ran for the two behind her: Gwen because she had never lost a teammate yet and, please God, she wouldn’t today, and Jack because he wasn’t as good at keeping a secret as he thought, not from her. She ran for the two in front of her: Owen because his hands were full of blood and each patient he lost took a chunk of his humanity with them, and Ianto because he should have died at Canary Wharf or in that basement in the Beacons but he hadn’t, he was re-learning how to live now. And she ran for herself, because she was a warrior and warriors always made it, just in the nick of time.
She heard them before she saw them, Owen’s curses blistering the air and Ianto’s labored breathing drowning out the rushing of her own blood through her ears. She leapt over one last log and fell to her knees beside them, skidding in Ianto’s blood in the trampled snow. Owen’s eyes were too painful to look at, so she took in the sight of Ianto’s mangled chest instead. She gave him a tight smile, and reached into her jacket for the Flagela.
The tiny creature danced along her hand, delicate wings beating the air before taking off to hover over Ianto. He watched with glazed eyes. Owen dug his bloody fingers into his hands and followed its every move with intense concentration. It took less than a minute, just a few seconds more than it had needed for Gwen’s wound.
Tosh sat back on her heels, satisfied, as Ianto pushed himself up into a sitting position and touched a finger to his whole chest in wonder. Owen stared at the Flagela.
Jack and Gwen came jogging up. Gwen still looked a little pale, but her face split into a wide grin when she saw Ianto, whole and healed. Jack looked at Ianto hungrily for a moment, and then turned to Tosh.
“Good work, Toshiko,” he said gravely. She inclined her head to him. A warrior did not make a fuss, but did what was necessary with no expectation of gratitude.
She stood up abruptly, and held out her hand to the Flagela. The battle wasn’t quite finished yet.
“We need to get our friend back to the Rift opening,” she said, looking up at Jack. He nodded, and moved forward to help Ianto to his feet, sweeping off his greatcoat and settling it around Ianto’s shoulders. Owen offered Gwen his arm to lean on, and they took off, Tosh in the lead. She finally holstered her gun, and drew out her PDA, her other weapon of choice, to track a route to the opening. It was still there, but had shrunk dramatically after spitting out its horde of Bakshi. The others gathered around her to say goodbye and thank you to the Flagela. She had no idea if it could understand, but it had repaid them for saving it from the Bakshi, so perhaps the words didn’t matter.
The Flagela leapt from her hand, flashing once in the cold winter air, and then it was gone, through the opening, which closed seamlessly behind it. Torchwood turned and began the trek back through the woods to the SUV.
Tomorrow, Tosh would go back to being a geek-soldier who used her mind and technical prowess as the chief weapons in her arsenal. Today, however, she had discovered that she had the soul of a warrior, no matter the circumstance. Not everyone had it, or wanted it, but it was hers. And she knew, even as the cold wind blew through the trees chilling their flesh, that colder times were coming. She would need it.