Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again, Part 2 of 4
Title: Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again,
Part Two-The Perfection of the Moment
Author: veritas6_5
Fandom: Torchwood
Rating: M for adult situations
Pairing: Gwen and Jack
Words: 7,885
Classification: Ten years from now.
Genre: hurt/comfort, angst, new life
Disclaimer: All characters belong to BBC and RTD. I mean them no harm. No copyright infringement is intended. I just take them out to play with them. I’ll put them right back.
Beta: karaokegal, the finest ever
Summary: I don’t want to move from this spot, ever again.
A/N: This was originally intended as a one-shot, but the second and third parts didn’t want it that way. Now there are three parts and a coda. Please review. I’m reposting all the parts together for the sake of coherence.
Part Two-The Perfection of the Moment
Every single joyous love story ends in death if you follow it long enough. The movies make life easier for us by usually stopping in the middle.-Roger Ebert
Gwen woke up, unaware that she had slept at all. Her head was still on Jack’s chest, and his arms were wrapped around her. She had stretched out while asleep, and was lying full length atop him head to toe, Jack having moved, somehow managing not to wake her. He shifted a little and spoke softly, only a rumble in her ear. “Awake?”
She stirred, still in that delicious half-asleep state, thrillingly aware of her cheek over his beating heart. “Mmm.” She turned her head and put a hand up, reaching for his face. He intercepted her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing her fingertips.
She pulled back in surprise, waking completely. “Oh. Did we sleep?”
“You did.”
“What time is it?”
“About half past nine.” He shifted his right hand to look at his watch. “Nine thirty-five,” he said. “You slept for almost four hours.”
“And you didn’t sleep?” She was still too logy to lift her head from his chest.
“I drowsed a bit. The rest of the time I spent counting the freckles on your face.”
She raised her head to look into his eyes. “Still the eternal joker.”
He lifted her hand again and he kissed the palm. “Shall we arise, my lady? I have to pee.”
Gwen put one foot on the floor and pulled her hand away from Jack. “I’ll put coffee on. You want coffee?”
“I always want coffee,” he grumbled as he headed for the loo.
“Put some trousers on,” she called after him, holding her tingling right hand to her cheek.
While he was dressing, Gwen hurried into her bedroom and pulled on clothing, joining him in the kitchen, as he pushed down the coffee press. She turned to the cupboards to get out fresh cups, and pulled milk from the refrigerator. They met at the table, and stopped, staring at each other before Gwen dropped her gaze, and sat primly at the table. Jack took the other chair, and sipped at his coffee.
“So,” Gwen began brightly, “How long do you think you’ll stay in the area?”
He chuckled. “Do you think I crisscrossed northern Wales looking for you, just to stop in for a cup of coffee?”
She was silent. Cold chills crept down her back.
“I was searching for you, Gwen,” he said quietly. “I think it’s about time we had that talk we’ve always avoided.”
She remained silent.
“Do you know what I mean?” he asked.
Her hand started to shake as she tried to pour milk into her coffee and the milk spattered on the tabletop. She jumped up to get a towel, but he rose just as quickly, and, putting one arm around her waist, took the towel from her hand and dropped it on the table.
“It’s only spilt milk,” he remarked, and put both arms around her.
“What do you want from me, Jack?” she asked, trembling from head to toe.
“I don’t know, Gwen. What do you want from me?”
She shook her head, “I don’t know.” She paused. “Please let me go.”
He released her and she wiped up the milk and sat at the table again, picking up her cup and taking several small sips. She drew a shuddering breath. “I’m not sure I can answer that. The person I used to be . . . the person you used to know, is long gone.”
“You don’t sleep well, do you?”
“No.”
Jack held out a hand to her. “Neither do I. But you slept in my arms.” She put her hand in his, and his long fingers enveloped her hand.
“You don’t have to talk about it,” he said. “I’ve heard the whole story. I want to help you.”
Her eyes began to water. She shook her head and wiped away the tears. “How?”
“I know it seems impossible.” He squeezed her hand. “I know.”
Gwen looked directly into his bluer-than-blue eyes. “I can’t believe you’re really here. I thought I was dreaming.” She took back her hand to refill her cup and his, emptying the pot. “When I woke up in the night and saw you standing there, you were glowing like an angel, how do you do that? I was sure it was a dream, or I had gone mad.” She paused. “I’ve been expecting to go mad for quite some time now.”
Jack nodded. “I know.”
“If I were mad, this is exactly what you would be saying to me, isn’t it?”
He laughed. “You’re not mad, Gwen. I’m really here. I’d like to stay for a while. Do you think Mrs. Owens will mind?”
She forced a small smile, “I’ll be the talk of the village,” she admitted, “but Mrs. Owens will be secretly glad.”
“And you?”
“Not so secretly glad.” She managed a smile again. “But I’m afraid you’ve come on a fool’s errand.”
He drew himself up with mock indignity. “I’m no fool.”
“No,” she apologised hurriedly, “of course not, but . . . I don’t know what to do with you, Jack!”
“I know what to do with you,” his smile had the hint of a leer in it. “But let’s save that discussion for later.” He stood up from the table and took her hand again. “Come on, show me around. Let’s see what drew you so far from Cardiff.”
“Partly that,” she said, “It’s far from Cardiff.” She looked out the window. “It’s a beautiful sunny day. Like the day I spotted you in the sea.”
“We can take a lunch to the beach,” he said. “Just talk. Lot of stories to tell you. Places I’ve been. Things I’ve seen.”
~|~|~|~|~|~|~
The beach was warm, and after their picnic was gone, Jack asked if Gwen would mind if he went for a swim. Gwen held on to his hand a moment too long, and finally she just said, “Don’t go out so far today. Please come back.”
He laughed. “Nothing could keep me away.” He stripped down to his shorts and ran to the water’s edge, making a long, low dive into the waves and stroking his way out almost as far as the rip current. Swimming on Earth was a totally different sensation than swimming in Boe. And there was no threat of invasion from the skies. The water was cooler here, and he loved the weightlessness of being in a salty sea. He porpoised, diving down a bit for the sheer joy of coming up to sweet air. He raised his head from the water from time to time to spot Gwen’s place on the beach so he could keep an eye on her. The sensation of the water slipping over him was so pleasurable, that he swam back and forth along the line of the current until he started to tire. Finally, he made his way back in slowly, trudging up the beach shedding saltwater.
As Jack came close enough to see Gwen clearly, he could see that she was white as a sheet, and he dropped to his knees in front of her, “What is it? What’s wrong?” His hands were wet and cool and he touched her face, her cheeks, the back of her neck. She was showing signs of distress and couldn’t seem to catch her breath. He pulled her to her knees and pressed himself against her, soaking her clothes. “Breathe, Gwen,” he coaxed.
Her deepening breath came as a long shuddering gasp. “I couldn’t see where you were,” she managed to say. “You were so far . . . away.”
He held her close, her hair clinging to his wet skin. He took her hand and pressed it to his cheek. “I’m here, I’m right here with you.”
She started to pant. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened . . .” she managed between breaths. She clutched at him tightly. “Don’t disappear like that again.”
Jack kept talking to her softly, assuring her, reassuring her. After a few moments, she was able to loosen her grasp on him and he grabbed at his clothes, pulling them on, ignoring the fact that he was still dripping wet. He picked up his coat, and wrapped it around her to warm her. He sat her back down on the blanket and lay next to her. “Okay now?”
Gwen nodded and pulled his coat up around her neck. She inhaled deeply.
“Let’s get you home,” he said, and he gathered up the blanket and they set off on the path back to her house. His coat was too long for her, and she was tripping on the tails. They stopped so he could exchange his coat for their blanket, wrapping it around Gwen.
“You’re soaking wet, you’ll catch a chill,” she observed, in a small voice.
“I’ll be fine,” he replied.
The walk back to the cottage seemed shorter than the walk down to the beach had been. He opened the door and they stumbled inside. Gwen dropped the blanket, took his coat to hang it on the coat stand, and pushed him towards the shower, following him.
She turned the water on and reached in to test the temperature. “Into the shower with you, take off your wet clothes, and get warmed up.” Jack obediently shed his damp clothing, and stepped into the shower cabinet. He reached out and pulled her in with him. He turned her to face him, the water beating down on both of them, wetting her clothes, her hair, and her body pressed against him. He closed the shower door, making a wet and warm enclosure for them. He reached to pull her shirt off over her head, but she stopped him. “No,” she said. “You first.”
She took the shower gel and squeezed some into her hands and rubbed it across his body. He let her soapy hands roam along his arms, neck, chest, down his legs, rubbing soapy circles on his back, gently cupping his buttocks, finally gently cleaning his groin. His erection was no surprise to either of them, but she just kept washing him, then rinsing him. She put shampoo in his hair, lathered, and rinsed it. When he was clean, she opened the door and gestured for him to get out of the shower.
“What about you?” he inquired, his voice husky.
“Wait for me,” she said, pulling the door closed. She took off her clothes and threw them out of the shower stall, and took her time about washing her hair and body, acutely aware of him just outside the steamed-up glass door. When she turned the shower off, he handed a towel in to her, but when she stepped out of the stall, he was gone. She finished drying her body, towel-dried her hair, and went looking for him.
Gwen found Jack in her bedroom, naked on her bed, leaning against the headboard. The afternoon sun haloed around him. She was wrapped in a towel, and she gestured that he should lie back on the bed. He did, not speaking. She looked at him carefully, as if she were trying to memorise his body.
His smooth skin really did seem to glow. It was flawless. She felt like she was seeing him for the first time. Long muscular legs. A small patch of light brown, curly hair wreathed his genitals. Flat stomach, narrow hips, carrying a bit more flesh around his waist than she remembered. His shoulders were wide, and she knew the feeling of his arms wrapped around her. His piercing blue eyes showed faint laugh lines at the corners. His lips were spread in a megawatt grin as he watched her careful examination.
“Seen enough?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said solemnly, “but now I have to touch you.” She reached out and repeated the meticulous inspection with her fingertips, closing her eyes now and then, raising goosebumps on his flesh as she touched and smoothed her way along his limbs, torso, and chest, tracing the pectoral muscles rising smoothly from the not-quite-rippling abs. She avoided touching his groin, but smoothed the hair under his arms and on his head. She let her fingers trail into the deep hollow of the suprasternal notch at the base of his throat. Finally, she held his cheeks and kissed his forehead. “You’re real enough.” She sat on the edge of the bed, and pulled on her underwear and clothing quickly.
He protested. “Hey, don’t I get a chance?”
“Not yet,” she said firmly.
“That’s not fair,” he said.
“Life’s not fair, is it?” she said quietly. “I had to make sure I wasn’t going crazy and imagining you.”
“Some imagination you have,” he grumbled, “if you still thought I wasn’t real after that.”
“I didn’t say that,” she said, leaving him sprawled on her bed.
~|~|~|~|~|~|~
Jack watched her leave the bedroom, puzzled. He hadn’t expected her to leave. She had seemed so happy to see him, and the whole shower thing had seemed to allay her fears from the beach. He was certain that her careful examination was the prelude to making love, and then she had-just walked away.
When Jack had put on some clothes, he joined Gwen in the kitchen, and pulled out a chair from the table. She put a plate with little bites of food on it in front of him. He took a piece and ate it. “Gwen,” he said, “you learned to cook?”
“Well,” she admitted, “you can get these at the Asda, and just warm them through.” She put one into her mouth, “Tasty, though.”
Watching her carefully, he ate another one. “But you’re cooking dinner?”
“Yeah,” she said. “I did learn to cook. I had to, I had,” she stopped abruptly “. . . a family to feed,” she finally choked out. Jack stood up and Gwen came willingly into his arms. “Does this pain ever go away?” she asked.
“No,” he said sadly, stroking her hair. “But you can find a way to live with it inside you. Grief is a terrible gift, but forgetting isn’t the only answer. They’ll always be alive in your heart.”
“How many live in your heart?” she asked.
“Many. But that’s not a reason to stop reaching out.” He hugged her tightly and put his chin on top of her head. “You’re still in this world, and so am I. Wounded people have to keep living. With other people.”
Gwen sniffled. “Did you come here to teach me that lesson?”
Jack looked at her sideways, and heard her take a sharp breath. “I didn’t come to teach you anything.” He let her go and went into the living room to flop on the couch. “I had selfish reasons for searching you out.”
“Which were?” She stood with her hands on her hips, a spoon in her hand, the dinner cooking on the stove totally forgotten.
He had trouble looking straight at her. “I had come back to Cardiff to clear up . . . some personal business. I know I should have acted on it years ago . . .” Jack looked up at Gwen and he suspected she could see sadness in his eyes. “You never would have known I was here if you were happy and safe. I would have left again, I could have lived with it, never bothered you, never seen you again, but . . . when Martha told me about what had happened to Rhys and Anwen,” and he looked up at her, “I hoped maybe . . . maybe . . . I could see you.”
She ran to him and knelt at his feet, her hands on his knees, looking up into his eyes. “Oh, Jack, back then our hearts belonged to other people. You had Ianto, I had Rhys. There was never a time . . .”
“What about now,” he said. “Couldn’t I . . . help you? I’m kind of an expert on loss,” he said ruefully.
She reached up to wipe moisture from his eyes, and caressed his cheek. “I don’t know.” She climbed up onto the couch to nestle against him. “Can’t we just let it be?”
He took one of her hands to his mouth and kissed her palm again, as he had earlier that day. “For a while.”
“You are such an idiot,” she said bitterly, but then her voice softened. “There hasn’t been a day since I met you that I didn’t love you. Sometimes as a friend, sometimes as a leader, and but mostly, as a dream I couldn’t really have. Wait. Be patient. See what happens.”
”I’ve been very patient,” he said. “What are you waiting for?”
“The right moment, I guess,” she admitted. “Now that you’re actually here, I’m finding that I’m oddly . . .”
Something erupted volcanically on the range, and they broke apart quickly to turn off the heat, and try to salvage something of dinner. They stood together looking at the mess on the floor. Jack poked a little round lump. “What’s that?”
“A radish,” Gwen said. There were several similar lumps in the brownish mess on the floor.
“What was this supposed to be?” Jack finally asked.
“Stew,” Gwen said.
“There are no radishes in stew,” he said, shaking his head.
“It seemed like a good idea at the time. How did they get out of the pot?”
“I think they were trying to escape,” he said.
“I was going to make mash, too.” She stood back, looking at the distance between the stove and the floor. Suddenly, she giggled.
Jack regarded Gwen with a half-grin on his face, but couldn’t stop at that and began to laugh full out. Soon they were both whooping, feeding off each other’s giddiness. Gwen sat down and held her sides, gasping for air. Jack tried to stop himself, but one look at her smiling face and they both dissolved again.
It was such a release to laugh. Emotions had been running high for both of them all day. Jack was mildly frustrated, and he could only guess at the trepidation Gwen must have been feeling. It was far easier to laugh than to have to plumb the depths of her anxiety. He knew she’d have to face it eventually, and he was content to talk about the spoiled dinner for now.
Jack said he thought the mess on the floor didn’t even look like food anymore, and rather reminded him of something you might find in a weevil’s nest.
“I guess I’m out of practise,” she choked out.
“Nobody’s that hungry,” he said, pointing to the mess on the floor, and they both giggled.
They stepped over the congealing glop on the floor, and moved to sit side by side on the couch, quieting down. “Where’s the nearest pub?” he asked, “or do you want something more formal?”
Gwen gestured towards town. “The pub is a nice one,” she stood up and offered him her hand to get up. He pulled her down instead and surrounded her with his arms, touching his lips to her neck. He licked slowly up her throat and found his way to her lips, kissing her gently. Jack pulled her hand to his lips, and took one of her fingers into his mouth, sucking at it insistently. Shifting a little, he held her head, one hand twined in her hair, the other hand at the back of her neck, keeping her close. Their kiss deepened, teeth and tongues, until finally they broke apart to breathe.
She struggled free and made him stand up. “Dinner first.”
The sun was setting as they drove to the pub. It was a Friday night, and the pub was crowded and noisy. “How did it get so late?” Gwen said. “Didn’t we just have lunch?”
“It’s been an eternity since we had lunch,” Jack lamented through a mouthful of deep-fried skate. His fishy grin almost triggered her into another round of laughter.
She settled for snickering. “Don’t make me laugh again, I’ll be snorting ale out my nose!”
Jack was drinking only still water, but Gwen drank enough ale so that he could see that she was ever-so-slightly pissed, and they stayed until closing time, playing darts, dancing, talking, and kissing playfully. Jack guided Gwen home, and half-carried her into the cottage. She struggled to her feet and stepped across the room, still dancing. He took her by the hand and led her into the bedroom. She flopped onto the bed and Jack dragged her boots off. She lay back, singing out of tune, then she stopped wriggling, and let him remove her jeans.
“Are you going to have your way with me?” she inquired coyly.
Jack smiled. “Not a chance. You’re done for tonight.”
“That was such fun,” she said. “I can’t remember the last time I laughed so much!”
He slipped her nightgown over her head and smoothed it down over her hips, tipped her into bed, and flipped the coverlet over her. “Glad you had a good time. Sleep on it.”
“Don’t want to go to sleep!” she pouted, already losing the battle to keep her eyes open.
“I’ll leave the light on,” he said, caressing her face. “Sleep well.”
She murmured sleepily, “I’ll sleep better if you sleep with me.” She patted the other side of the bed. “Come on, Jack,” she crooned. “I won’t molest you.” Then she was asleep.
He shook his head, and went into the other room. He poured two fingers of whiskey from his flask into a small glass and listened to Gwen’s quiet breathing for a few minutes. When the whiskey was done, he put down the glass, hung up his coat, and strode into the bedroom, dropping his braces on the way.
~|~|~|~|~|~|~
Gwen woke in the night with a pounding headache, staggered to the bathroom, returned to the bed and snuggled up against the warm body she found there, falling back to sleep. Her head still ached when she woke to the morning sun, so she pulled the sheet over her head and went back to sleep, his body still nestled against her back.
When she woke up again, she was alone in the bed, the headache just a dull throb. She threw back the covers and rolled out of bed, drawn to the kitchen by the smell of coffee.
She threw herself into a chair, and Jack put a cup of hot coffee in front of her, sweet and whitened, the way she liked it. “You’ve saved my life,” she muttered.
He chuckled and sat down across from her. He nudged a plate of toast and jam across the table to her, and she pushed it away, moaning into her coffee. “I’m never going to drink that much again, never,” she whined.
Halfway through her second cup, she looked up blearily at Jack. “Did we . . . ?”
He shook his head. “We didn’t.”
“I was pretty drunk.”
“You were,” he agreed.
“I had a wonderful time.”
“You did.”
“You put me to bed . . .”
“I did.”
“And you did sleep with me?”
“I was in your bed, yes.”
“You held me?”
“Yes.”
“But we didn’t . . . ?”
“No.”
“Why not?” she asked.
“I wouldn’t have enjoyed it if you couldn’t be there for it,” he said dryly.
She was greatly amused. “Thanks for waiting for me,” she said, only a little surprised.
“It was the gentlemanly thing to do.”
She chuckled, then put a hand to her stricken head. “There are aspirin in the cabinet to the left of the range,” she whispered.
Two aspirin appeared on the table in front of her, along with a glass of water. She slugged them back and stood up. “I have to go back to bed for a while. Will you stay?”
“Yes,” he said. “I will.”
~|~|~|~|~|~|~
When Gwen woke up again a few hours later, she managed to put on some clothes, brush her teeth, and comb her hair. Presentable, she went out to the lounge and found Jack stretched out on the couch, a book in his hands. He put a bookmark into the page and closed the book. “How are we feeling?”
She smiled. “We’re feeling much better, thank you. And thank you.”
He nodded. “I’d like to tell you that it was a pleasure, but I would have to lie.”
“Well, I appreciate your honesty. And your forbearance.” She gestured to the book in is hands. “I see you found something to read?”
He held up the book. “Had it in my pocket. Say, is there a chance we could take a quick drive over to Manchester to pick up my stuff? These clothes are a little, ah, lived in, and I have a lot more in a bag in a locker at the airport.”
She nodded quickly. “Yes, of course. I should have asked earlier . . . are you really planning to stay here?”
For the first time, he looked uncomfortable. “Unless . . . ?”
“Oh, no, no,” she protested. “Stay, do.” She bit her lip. “Please stay with me. For a while, at least.”
~|~|~|~|~|~|~
Driving to Manchester in comfortable silence, Jack was extremely conscious of Gwen’s aching head. He drove more carefully than usual, and finally she spoke very quietly. “You didn’t say that you love me.”
“What?”
“I said that I had always loved you, and you didn’t say anything.”
“I told you that I wanted to be with you.”
“That’s not the same thing, is it?” She cocked her head and regarded him seriously. She must have been thinking about this for a while, and at this very moment an answer seemed to be imperative.
He drew the car to the side of the road and stopped it. “No, I guess it isn’t.” He stared straight ahead. He thought about the last time he had considered loving someone, and the time before that, going back in his life. It hardly ever turned out well. Over time, Jack had come to think of his fixed-point condition as a jinx, and sex was always slicker without love. But it was hard to deny, even to himself, that what he felt for Gwen-had always felt-was a deep emotional attachment, and he was simply afraid to admit that. Because when you admit it, even only to yourself, other people can get badly hurt.
“Um, say something,” she urged him.
“I can’t,” he said.
“You can’t?” she said, louder than she intended, and he winced.
“Not because I don’t. I am trying. Gwen, not because I don’t, see! It’s because . . . I’ve come to realise . . . what I’ve learned in all these years, wandering the universe, is that as long as you’re in the world, and I’m not with you, I’m just not . . . alive.”
She wiped a tear from her eye. “So you want me to say it to you, even though you can’t say it to me, and it’s not ok for you to outlive me, because, because, why?”
“I have this overwhelming need for you. I have to believe that if I can take good enough care of you, I won’t have to be lonely again . . .”
Gwen stopped him with a hand over his mouth, and he turned to face her. She said, “But you were trying to tell me that grief is a good thing because you keep people alive forever in your heart. Won’t you have me forever in your heart?”
Jack pulled her into his arms. “You must know that already.”
“No one has touched me for a very long time,” she said. “I want it to be you. If I’m honest, you were right that first day, when you told me I’d never get tired of following you. I will follow you forever. Forever, you . . . idiot.”
His lips were next to her ear, his whisper tickled the air. “I do love you, Gwen. I’ve loved you since the first moment I saw you.”
“Drive,” she said abruptly, taking a deep breath. She pulled away from him and pushed his shoulder, hard. “Drive now. Get us to Manchester as fast as you can. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can head back to the cottage. Hurry!”
~|~|~|~|~|~|~
Jack got them back to Wales in record time, driving very fast, even for him. His duffle in the boot made banging sounds as it rolled back and forth with the force of his abrupt turns. Gwen honestly didn’t know if she was supposed to be more thrilled or fearful. She kept stealing glances at Jack’s face, but she needed him to be focused on keeping the car on the road, and didn’t want to distract him. Her tension level heightened, and, as though he knew it, and without taking his eyes from the road, Jack put a hand on her leg. She felt the reassurance of his hand through her jeans, and put her hand on top of his.
He grinned at her. “Nervous?” he asked.
She nodded, forcing a smile. “Strange, isn’t it, after all this time? This feels like our first date.”
He laughed out loud. “Yeah, but with no curfew. Just you and me.”
“Yeah,” she sighed. She realised that her sigh sounded less than enthusiastic, and cast a worried look at Jack.
He turned to her and smiled gently, before turning back to the road, and that did more to relieve her worries than anything else. He let up on the accelerator, and slowed the car to a more legal speed. Gwen took another deep breath and squeezed his hand.
~|~|~|~|~|~|~
Jack pulled the car up at the back of the house, and turned it off. The car grew quiet, ticking away the engine’s heat, and he turned to Gwen. “Do you just want to sit in the car for a while?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know what’s come over me, Jack. I feel paralysed.”
Things weren’t going according to plan for Jack just now. He was sure that by now they’d have been in bed, but she seemed to be trying to delay that in any way that she could. He didn’t understand why. She had been afraid she’d lost him at the beach, eager for him before the drive to Manchester, and now she seemed to just want him to leave her alone. He decided to play along with her delaying tactics. He got out of the car, came around to her door and opened it. “C’mon,” he put out his hand. “Look, it’s a beautiful day, and it’s early in the afternoon.”
She stepped out of the car. “I’m okay. Just . . . a little bit apprehensive.”
“I know you are. Let’s do something simple this afternoon. I’ll put my stuff away, and you put together supplies for a little hike: some water, some snacks; put them in your backpack. We’ll take books, sit in the sunshine, and just have a quiet day.”
Gwen brightened. “Okay, that sounds great.” She leaned in to kiss his cheek. “How did you know the right thing to say?”
“ I’m rubbish at it,” he snorted, “And you know that.”
Gwen stopped to look at herself in the mirror over the desk. Jack walked up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. The desperately tired look was mostly gone from her face, and her eyes were shining. Her whole face was brighter, he could see it. She shook her head, making her hair swing. She looked . . . contented. He grinned at her from over her shoulder. Contented. He hadn’t seen that look on her for a long time.
He put his lips to her ear. “We’re not in any hurry, Gwen,” he whispered. “Let’s just have a nice afternoon.”
She broke away from him with a quick smile. “Just give me a second to get stuff together and get a sunhat.”
They drove toward Mount Snowdon, but didn’t get very far before they found a perfect spot with a tree and a grassy lea. Jack spread out the blanket in the sun, and took off his coat, bunching it up to make a pillow for Gwen. She lay back, pulling her sunhat over to shade her face. There was just enough breeze to make it comfortable in the sunshine.
“Want your book?” he asked her.
She was drowsy, breathing softly. He chuckled, took out his book, and settled down to read, but soon put it down and rolled to one side to prop his head on his hand and look down at her. He placed his arm across her gently, and she took his hand and pressed it to her heart.
They stayed a few hours, not really sleeping, not talking, but Jack could practically see Gwen’s body relax, the tension slipping away with the rest of her hangover. Jack alternated between reading and just watching her rest. The cool of afternoon chilled her and she touched Jack’s shoulder. “Let’s go home,” she said quietly. He smiled at her, pocketing his book, shaking out his coat, and slipping it on. Gwen gathered up the miscellaneous snack bags, and put them back into her pack with the empty Thermos. She shook out the blanket and pulled on a sweater. Jack put his arm around her back, and took the pack from her, slinging it over his other shoulder.
“Shall we go to dinner in town?” he proposed. “Someplace quieter than the pub?”
She nodded. “I know a place. We can go casual.”
He stopped and opened both arms wide. “Casual.”
“And that’s fine,” she pulled his arm back across her shoulder. “I’ll just freshen up a little and comb my hair,” she said in agreement.
He pressed her closer. “No worries,” he replied.
They drove into town for a quiet dinner, and the little restaurant Gwen chose was uncrowded and intimate. She found herself relaxing in Jack’s presence, and just being able to look across the table at him made her feel better. She was starting, just starting, to believe that maybe, maybe . . . He could also relax. She seemed ready to accept him. He hoped that was true.
~|~|~|~|~|~|~
Jack drove them slowly home, passing the turn for Gwen’s street in favor of driving a bit farther out of town. The light was brilliant out in the countryside, as the moon rose over the Little Orme. He stopped the car and they got out just to watch it clear the rocks. Jack stood behind Gwen with his arms, and his coat, wrapped around her.
The air was pleasingly cool and the moon rose quickly, only taking a few minutes to show her face. “It’s lovely,” Gwen murmured.
“We should go and see the moons rise from the blue beaches of Woman Wept,” he said. They have three moons: one white one, two blue ones; and they rise together every eighteen years. Rose Tyler told me about it, and I’ve always wanted to see it.”
She turned to him and he let her bury her face in his shirt front. He hugged her tightly for a minute, and they returned to the car, and he drove back towards home.
Coming through the front door, Gwen reached to turn on the lights, but Jack stayed her hand. “I don’t think we need the lights,” he whispered, “the moonlight is so bright.” He led her directly to the bedroom, “and I don’t need light to see you.”
They undressed in the dark on opposite sides of the bed. Gwen hesitated, and put her nightgown on, letting it fall over her body. Jack lay on the bed and pulled back the covers for her. She glimpsed his naked body lit by the moonlight and lay down tentatively on the other side of the bed. He opened his arms and she rolled into his embrace. He closed his arms around her, pressing his hands to her silk-covered back. “Do you need the night clothes?” he asked.
“Just for a while,” she said, haltingly. “It’s been a long time.”
His warm hands moved up and down her body, sliding on the silk. When he spoke again, his voice was husky again. “Gwen, please.”
“ ‘Arbella,’” she quoted to him, giggling a little, “ ‘lift your linens.’”
His hands stopped their movement. “Lift whose linens?”
In the darkness, Gwen’s voice danced with humour, “I think it was Sir Isaac Johnson, in the Massachusetts Bay Colony, who supposedly said it. When he wanted to have conjugal relations with his wife, he would say, ‘Arbella, lift your linens.’ They were Puritans.” She drew her gown over her head and settled back into the bed, naked, spooning in Jack’s eager arms. “I guess we know each other well enough to dispense with that formality.” He gathered her close. “I hope so,” he said, kissing the back of her neck while his hands moved down the front of her body, smoothing, soothing, making her writhe happily.
She struggled to stretch out atop him then, to feel his erection press against her belly. She shifted up, so that he could slide between her legs, where she captured him. “Jack,” she whispered. “Can you wait a little bit more?”
He murmured into her hair, “Do you need more time?”
Gwen rubbed her face against his chest, dreamily. “I want to savour this moment with you. It’s been a long time coming.” She licked at his skin. “I’ll never get used to how good you taste,” she marveled. “Can you imagine how many times I’ve slipped into sleep pleasing myself by imagining this . . . just this?”
His breathing quickened and his heartbeat increased. He pulled her closer with a hand on her bottom, pressing himself against her. “Only this?” he asked, moving his other hand into her hair, massaging her neck gently. “No more than this?”
She moaned with pleasure, and pressed her free hand between them, reaching down to touch him, which made him shiver a bit. “It’s been a long, long time since I’ve been with a man,” Gwen said, “I want to be sure it’s easy for both of us.”
He moved one hand to displace hers, and smoothly slipped a finger into her. “It will be easy, you’re ready.”
She pushed his hand away, and guided him into her. “Slowly, now,” she said. “I want to feel it all.”
Jack complied, slowing his penetration. She made tiny soft sounds as he pressed himself deeper, and finally stopped, his entire length sheathed within her. She moved slightly, tentatively, her inner muscles contracting to keep him in place. “Stay there,” she said, as her body rippled against him.
“That feels amazing, Gwen.” He gasped, and his head fell back against the pillow. She didn’t stop the movement, but she could feel his body tense with his efforts not to come too soon. She pushed his hands up by his head and braced herself, holding his wrists.
“For me, too,” she assured him. She let go of his arms and lay flat against him again, letting his hands return to playing across her back, while she caressed his face, fingertips tracing the features she had loved for so long. When her hands touched his lips, he opened his mouth to take them, licking at her fingers, and sucking them into his mouth, sucking hard. She gave herself up, sighing from the deepest part of her body.
“I’m going to move now,” he said, “if you’re ready.” She nodded assent, and he began to slide out and into her again, with increasing pressure, making her gasp. Somehow, he turned her, and loomed over her as she lay on her back. His thrusting became steady and strong. She held tightly to him, relishing every bit of friction. She started to pant under him, and he slowed his motion, knowing she was on the verge of her climax. He increased his speed again then, thrusting into her, and bringing her over the edge.
As Gwen’s shuddering shivering slowed, Jack lifted himself on his arms, looked down at her, and biting at his lip, deliberately allowed himself to come inside her, watching her. Her eyes were unfocussed as she blinked, long lashes brushing her cheeks, which burned with a sexy flush.
She looked at him with longing, and her mouth spread wide in a smile, showing the gap in her front teeth (which Jack had always said had an erotic effect on him). She ran her tongue over her teeth, and said, “Wow!”
Jack grinned at her. “It’ll be even better next time.” Holding her tightly, he rolled to the side, pulling her along, and she clasped him to her, trying to keep him inside her until the last possible minute.
To her surprise, he remained hard inside her, moving gently at the same time as he ran his free hand up her back, up into her hair again, and bent his head down to capture her mouth for a lingering kiss. She opened her mouth to him. When he withdrew, he made a lascivious job of licking the moisture from her lips and chin and cheeks. She started to giggle at his industriousness, and he pulled away from her, pretend hurt darkening his eyes.
“Something’s funny?”
She just looked up at him, her face wet with his saliva, and said, “I can’t be anything but happy.” He moved inside her again, just so, and she came again, shuddering in his arms. He kissed her, holding her tightly, and slowly withdrew.
After a few moments, she moved to get up from the bed, and he stopped her with a gentle hand. “Stay here,” and he got up bring back warm towels, and he washed and dried her gently, then cleaned himself before getting back into the bed to cuddle her.
She relished his caresses and repeated her explorations of his body from the day before, now moving her hands over him with certainty. He trailed kisses across her body, and down her legs, down her arms, and she tried to touch every inch of his skin. They knelt together in the middle of the big bed. Her skin flushed and moisture formed on both their faces. She was carefully kissing and licking every inch of his face when he grinned at her again. “Ready for another go?”
Gwen relaxed back onto the bed, stretching out luxuriously. The moonlight was only at the bottom of the bed now, and the darkness was almost complete in the room. They paused for a moment to savour the perfection of the moment before Jack raised himself over her. He paused before parting her legs and entering her again, more aggressively this time, and she rose to meet him. The lovemaking was more intense, and somehow even more satisfying than the first time.
“Jack,” Gwen complained gently, after their third coupling, “I’m starting to feel just a tiny bit . . . sore, now.” He laughed into her armpit, where he was currently licking her, and she struck out with a soft blow to his arse.
“If it’s spanking you want,” he threatened.
“No, it’s sleeping I want, you bugger. You’ve worn me out.” She rolled away from his hand, and pulled the duvet up over herself. “Want to join me for a bit of rejuvenating sleep, so we can do all of this again tomorrow?”
He nodded and burrowed beneath the duvet to embrace her. She fell asleep cradled in his arms, but not before she noted that the sun was brightening the windows.
~|~|~|~|~|~|~
Jack watched with some amusement as Gwen threw her clothes on willy-nilly, while hopping around the room looking for her shoes.
“Tell me again,” he said slowly, “why you have to get dressed and go out, right now, this minute?”
“Mrs. Owens has asked me to tea this afternoon and has invited some of the other neighbours, and she worries enough about me. I don’t need her to come down here to fetch me and find that you are lounging naked in my bed.” She found her Chucks and tied the laces, stopping by the bed to give him a very quick kiss in the middle of his chest, and a tickle under his chin before running for the door.
There was a knock at her door, and she made a silly and resigned face at Jack from the bedroom door. She sped out the front door, closing it tight behind her, and almost knocked over Mrs. Owens, who was standing on the doorstep. “Mrs. Williams,” the older lady said, “I was afraid something had happened to delay you. You do remember our tea, don’t you?”
“Oh yes, Mrs. Owens, of course I do. Sorry, I must have just overslept.” Gwen bit her lip hard; it was four o’clock in the afternoon.
Mrs. Owens linked arms with Gwen, and they sauntered slowly across the road. “Did you have a nice visit with your Captain this week? Is he in our military?”
“Not anymore,” Gwen said. “Not for quite a while.”
“Still fancies the coat, though.”
Gwen smiled a little. “He’s always liked the flair of it. Thank you for bringing him to me.” She looked back over her shoulder and saw Jack, bouncing naked in the window of the bedroom, apparently determined to embarrass her with his antics.
She blushed deeply and turned her attention back to Mrs. Owens to distract her from looking back at the window. “And he’ll be staying with me for a while. He’s been away, and just needs a bit of a break before his next . . . job.”
“Poor dear,” Mrs. Owens said, “he looked a bit tired when I met him in the post office, but just hearing your name brightened him right up. Was he a friend of your husband’s?”
“Yes,” Gwen admitted. “We’ve known him for a long time.” She nodded, thinking of what she could say while trying to fill out her story. “He’s been a good friend to our family.”
“Well, I hope you’ll settle with us, and once you meet more of our local people, you’ll feel at home here too.”
Gwen patted the older woman’s hand. “Mrs. Owens, don’t you think that you could just call me Gwen? After all, you were the first person I met when I moved in. That makes you my friend of longest standing here.”
Mrs. Owens just laughed, “Then I suppose you must call me Louisa, Gwen. And the rest of the ladies will just assume I am your oldest friend.”
Gwen actually enjoyed a few hours with Louisa’s friends, all of whom were over seventy. They were very kind ladies, and quite funny. When she left to stagger home, Gwen was pretty sure the punch, if not also the tea, had been spiked, and the humour had become more ribald towards the end of the party. Gwen marveled at what they would have had to talk about if they had seen Jack cavorting at her bedroom window.
She let herself in the front door, calling out hello to Jack. The rooms were silent, and she went looking for him in the bedroom. He had made up the bed with fresh sheets, but wasn’t anywhere in the house. She looked out the kitchen window and saw that her car was also gone. Then she found the note on the kitchen table. Shopping for dinner stuff. Home soon. Six little words that lightened her heart. She danced into the bedroom to change her clothes, choosing a loose dress and leaving her shoes behind. It seemed stuffy in the house, so she opened all the windows to let in the early evening air.
By the time she was sat in her chair by the window, Jack was back, lugging three shopping bags full of food into the kitchen. He dropped the bags and picked her up in a giant hug, swinging her into the air. “You had no food in the house.”
“So you had to buy enough for a whole week?”
“If we don’t have to leave the house,” he explained in a soft, slightly lewd drawl, “we won’t have to put on clothes for a week.”
“Brilliant,” she said, with a little thrill up her spine. “Shall we start now?”
“In a minute,” he said, putting foodstuffs away. “How was your afternoon with the ladies?”
She smiled broadly. “They are a bunch of grand old dames,” she said. “You’d have been in your element with them. I’m pretty sure there was whiskey in the teapot, and I’m a little loopy. Funny women. Beauties in their day, I’m sure.”
“I might have known some of them,” he mused.
“You might have, at that,” she concurred.
He looked up at her sideways, that look again, and said nothing.
She looked back at him over her shoulder as she took a step towards the bedroom, and he followed.
xxx
Part Two-The Perfection of the Moment
Author: veritas6_5
Fandom: Torchwood
Rating: M for adult situations
Pairing: Gwen and Jack
Words: 7,885
Classification: Ten years from now.
Genre: hurt/comfort, angst, new life
Disclaimer: All characters belong to BBC and RTD. I mean them no harm. No copyright infringement is intended. I just take them out to play with them. I’ll put them right back.
Beta: karaokegal, the finest ever
Summary: I don’t want to move from this spot, ever again.
A/N: This was originally intended as a one-shot, but the second and third parts didn’t want it that way. Now there are three parts and a coda. Please review. I’m reposting all the parts together for the sake of coherence.
Part Two-The Perfection of the Moment
Every single joyous love story ends in death if you follow it long enough. The movies make life easier for us by usually stopping in the middle.-Roger Ebert
Gwen woke up, unaware that she had slept at all. Her head was still on Jack’s chest, and his arms were wrapped around her. She had stretched out while asleep, and was lying full length atop him head to toe, Jack having moved, somehow managing not to wake her. He shifted a little and spoke softly, only a rumble in her ear. “Awake?”
She stirred, still in that delicious half-asleep state, thrillingly aware of her cheek over his beating heart. “Mmm.” She turned her head and put a hand up, reaching for his face. He intercepted her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing her fingertips.
She pulled back in surprise, waking completely. “Oh. Did we sleep?”
“You did.”
“What time is it?”
“About half past nine.” He shifted his right hand to look at his watch. “Nine thirty-five,” he said. “You slept for almost four hours.”
“And you didn’t sleep?” She was still too logy to lift her head from his chest.
“I drowsed a bit. The rest of the time I spent counting the freckles on your face.”
She raised her head to look into his eyes. “Still the eternal joker.”
He lifted her hand again and he kissed the palm. “Shall we arise, my lady? I have to pee.”
Gwen put one foot on the floor and pulled her hand away from Jack. “I’ll put coffee on. You want coffee?”
“I always want coffee,” he grumbled as he headed for the loo.
“Put some trousers on,” she called after him, holding her tingling right hand to her cheek.
While he was dressing, Gwen hurried into her bedroom and pulled on clothing, joining him in the kitchen, as he pushed down the coffee press. She turned to the cupboards to get out fresh cups, and pulled milk from the refrigerator. They met at the table, and stopped, staring at each other before Gwen dropped her gaze, and sat primly at the table. Jack took the other chair, and sipped at his coffee.
“So,” Gwen began brightly, “How long do you think you’ll stay in the area?”
He chuckled. “Do you think I crisscrossed northern Wales looking for you, just to stop in for a cup of coffee?”
She was silent. Cold chills crept down her back.
“I was searching for you, Gwen,” he said quietly. “I think it’s about time we had that talk we’ve always avoided.”
She remained silent.
“Do you know what I mean?” he asked.
Her hand started to shake as she tried to pour milk into her coffee and the milk spattered on the tabletop. She jumped up to get a towel, but he rose just as quickly, and, putting one arm around her waist, took the towel from her hand and dropped it on the table.
“It’s only spilt milk,” he remarked, and put both arms around her.
“What do you want from me, Jack?” she asked, trembling from head to toe.
“I don’t know, Gwen. What do you want from me?”
She shook her head, “I don’t know.” She paused. “Please let me go.”
He released her and she wiped up the milk and sat at the table again, picking up her cup and taking several small sips. She drew a shuddering breath. “I’m not sure I can answer that. The person I used to be . . . the person you used to know, is long gone.”
“You don’t sleep well, do you?”
“No.”
Jack held out a hand to her. “Neither do I. But you slept in my arms.” She put her hand in his, and his long fingers enveloped her hand.
“You don’t have to talk about it,” he said. “I’ve heard the whole story. I want to help you.”
Her eyes began to water. She shook her head and wiped away the tears. “How?”
“I know it seems impossible.” He squeezed her hand. “I know.”
Gwen looked directly into his bluer-than-blue eyes. “I can’t believe you’re really here. I thought I was dreaming.” She took back her hand to refill her cup and his, emptying the pot. “When I woke up in the night and saw you standing there, you were glowing like an angel, how do you do that? I was sure it was a dream, or I had gone mad.” She paused. “I’ve been expecting to go mad for quite some time now.”
Jack nodded. “I know.”
“If I were mad, this is exactly what you would be saying to me, isn’t it?”
He laughed. “You’re not mad, Gwen. I’m really here. I’d like to stay for a while. Do you think Mrs. Owens will mind?”
She forced a small smile, “I’ll be the talk of the village,” she admitted, “but Mrs. Owens will be secretly glad.”
“And you?”
“Not so secretly glad.” She managed a smile again. “But I’m afraid you’ve come on a fool’s errand.”
He drew himself up with mock indignity. “I’m no fool.”
“No,” she apologised hurriedly, “of course not, but . . . I don’t know what to do with you, Jack!”
“I know what to do with you,” his smile had the hint of a leer in it. “But let’s save that discussion for later.” He stood up from the table and took her hand again. “Come on, show me around. Let’s see what drew you so far from Cardiff.”
“Partly that,” she said, “It’s far from Cardiff.” She looked out the window. “It’s a beautiful sunny day. Like the day I spotted you in the sea.”
“We can take a lunch to the beach,” he said. “Just talk. Lot of stories to tell you. Places I’ve been. Things I’ve seen.”
~|~|~|~|~|~|~
The beach was warm, and after their picnic was gone, Jack asked if Gwen would mind if he went for a swim. Gwen held on to his hand a moment too long, and finally she just said, “Don’t go out so far today. Please come back.”
He laughed. “Nothing could keep me away.” He stripped down to his shorts and ran to the water’s edge, making a long, low dive into the waves and stroking his way out almost as far as the rip current. Swimming on Earth was a totally different sensation than swimming in Boe. And there was no threat of invasion from the skies. The water was cooler here, and he loved the weightlessness of being in a salty sea. He porpoised, diving down a bit for the sheer joy of coming up to sweet air. He raised his head from the water from time to time to spot Gwen’s place on the beach so he could keep an eye on her. The sensation of the water slipping over him was so pleasurable, that he swam back and forth along the line of the current until he started to tire. Finally, he made his way back in slowly, trudging up the beach shedding saltwater.
As Jack came close enough to see Gwen clearly, he could see that she was white as a sheet, and he dropped to his knees in front of her, “What is it? What’s wrong?” His hands were wet and cool and he touched her face, her cheeks, the back of her neck. She was showing signs of distress and couldn’t seem to catch her breath. He pulled her to her knees and pressed himself against her, soaking her clothes. “Breathe, Gwen,” he coaxed.
Her deepening breath came as a long shuddering gasp. “I couldn’t see where you were,” she managed to say. “You were so far . . . away.”
He held her close, her hair clinging to his wet skin. He took her hand and pressed it to his cheek. “I’m here, I’m right here with you.”
She started to pant. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened . . .” she managed between breaths. She clutched at him tightly. “Don’t disappear like that again.”
Jack kept talking to her softly, assuring her, reassuring her. After a few moments, she was able to loosen her grasp on him and he grabbed at his clothes, pulling them on, ignoring the fact that he was still dripping wet. He picked up his coat, and wrapped it around her to warm her. He sat her back down on the blanket and lay next to her. “Okay now?”
Gwen nodded and pulled his coat up around her neck. She inhaled deeply.
“Let’s get you home,” he said, and he gathered up the blanket and they set off on the path back to her house. His coat was too long for her, and she was tripping on the tails. They stopped so he could exchange his coat for their blanket, wrapping it around Gwen.
“You’re soaking wet, you’ll catch a chill,” she observed, in a small voice.
“I’ll be fine,” he replied.
The walk back to the cottage seemed shorter than the walk down to the beach had been. He opened the door and they stumbled inside. Gwen dropped the blanket, took his coat to hang it on the coat stand, and pushed him towards the shower, following him.
She turned the water on and reached in to test the temperature. “Into the shower with you, take off your wet clothes, and get warmed up.” Jack obediently shed his damp clothing, and stepped into the shower cabinet. He reached out and pulled her in with him. He turned her to face him, the water beating down on both of them, wetting her clothes, her hair, and her body pressed against him. He closed the shower door, making a wet and warm enclosure for them. He reached to pull her shirt off over her head, but she stopped him. “No,” she said. “You first.”
She took the shower gel and squeezed some into her hands and rubbed it across his body. He let her soapy hands roam along his arms, neck, chest, down his legs, rubbing soapy circles on his back, gently cupping his buttocks, finally gently cleaning his groin. His erection was no surprise to either of them, but she just kept washing him, then rinsing him. She put shampoo in his hair, lathered, and rinsed it. When he was clean, she opened the door and gestured for him to get out of the shower.
“What about you?” he inquired, his voice husky.
“Wait for me,” she said, pulling the door closed. She took off her clothes and threw them out of the shower stall, and took her time about washing her hair and body, acutely aware of him just outside the steamed-up glass door. When she turned the shower off, he handed a towel in to her, but when she stepped out of the stall, he was gone. She finished drying her body, towel-dried her hair, and went looking for him.
Gwen found Jack in her bedroom, naked on her bed, leaning against the headboard. The afternoon sun haloed around him. She was wrapped in a towel, and she gestured that he should lie back on the bed. He did, not speaking. She looked at him carefully, as if she were trying to memorise his body.
His smooth skin really did seem to glow. It was flawless. She felt like she was seeing him for the first time. Long muscular legs. A small patch of light brown, curly hair wreathed his genitals. Flat stomach, narrow hips, carrying a bit more flesh around his waist than she remembered. His shoulders were wide, and she knew the feeling of his arms wrapped around her. His piercing blue eyes showed faint laugh lines at the corners. His lips were spread in a megawatt grin as he watched her careful examination.
“Seen enough?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said solemnly, “but now I have to touch you.” She reached out and repeated the meticulous inspection with her fingertips, closing her eyes now and then, raising goosebumps on his flesh as she touched and smoothed her way along his limbs, torso, and chest, tracing the pectoral muscles rising smoothly from the not-quite-rippling abs. She avoided touching his groin, but smoothed the hair under his arms and on his head. She let her fingers trail into the deep hollow of the suprasternal notch at the base of his throat. Finally, she held his cheeks and kissed his forehead. “You’re real enough.” She sat on the edge of the bed, and pulled on her underwear and clothing quickly.
He protested. “Hey, don’t I get a chance?”
“Not yet,” she said firmly.
“That’s not fair,” he said.
“Life’s not fair, is it?” she said quietly. “I had to make sure I wasn’t going crazy and imagining you.”
“Some imagination you have,” he grumbled, “if you still thought I wasn’t real after that.”
“I didn’t say that,” she said, leaving him sprawled on her bed.
~|~|~|~|~|~|~
Jack watched her leave the bedroom, puzzled. He hadn’t expected her to leave. She had seemed so happy to see him, and the whole shower thing had seemed to allay her fears from the beach. He was certain that her careful examination was the prelude to making love, and then she had-just walked away.
When Jack had put on some clothes, he joined Gwen in the kitchen, and pulled out a chair from the table. She put a plate with little bites of food on it in front of him. He took a piece and ate it. “Gwen,” he said, “you learned to cook?”
“Well,” she admitted, “you can get these at the Asda, and just warm them through.” She put one into her mouth, “Tasty, though.”
Watching her carefully, he ate another one. “But you’re cooking dinner?”
“Yeah,” she said. “I did learn to cook. I had to, I had,” she stopped abruptly “. . . a family to feed,” she finally choked out. Jack stood up and Gwen came willingly into his arms. “Does this pain ever go away?” she asked.
“No,” he said sadly, stroking her hair. “But you can find a way to live with it inside you. Grief is a terrible gift, but forgetting isn’t the only answer. They’ll always be alive in your heart.”
“How many live in your heart?” she asked.
“Many. But that’s not a reason to stop reaching out.” He hugged her tightly and put his chin on top of her head. “You’re still in this world, and so am I. Wounded people have to keep living. With other people.”
Gwen sniffled. “Did you come here to teach me that lesson?”
Jack looked at her sideways, and heard her take a sharp breath. “I didn’t come to teach you anything.” He let her go and went into the living room to flop on the couch. “I had selfish reasons for searching you out.”
“Which were?” She stood with her hands on her hips, a spoon in her hand, the dinner cooking on the stove totally forgotten.
He had trouble looking straight at her. “I had come back to Cardiff to clear up . . . some personal business. I know I should have acted on it years ago . . .” Jack looked up at Gwen and he suspected she could see sadness in his eyes. “You never would have known I was here if you were happy and safe. I would have left again, I could have lived with it, never bothered you, never seen you again, but . . . when Martha told me about what had happened to Rhys and Anwen,” and he looked up at her, “I hoped maybe . . . maybe . . . I could see you.”
She ran to him and knelt at his feet, her hands on his knees, looking up into his eyes. “Oh, Jack, back then our hearts belonged to other people. You had Ianto, I had Rhys. There was never a time . . .”
“What about now,” he said. “Couldn’t I . . . help you? I’m kind of an expert on loss,” he said ruefully.
She reached up to wipe moisture from his eyes, and caressed his cheek. “I don’t know.” She climbed up onto the couch to nestle against him. “Can’t we just let it be?”
He took one of her hands to his mouth and kissed her palm again, as he had earlier that day. “For a while.”
“You are such an idiot,” she said bitterly, but then her voice softened. “There hasn’t been a day since I met you that I didn’t love you. Sometimes as a friend, sometimes as a leader, and but mostly, as a dream I couldn’t really have. Wait. Be patient. See what happens.”
”I’ve been very patient,” he said. “What are you waiting for?”
“The right moment, I guess,” she admitted. “Now that you’re actually here, I’m finding that I’m oddly . . .”
Something erupted volcanically on the range, and they broke apart quickly to turn off the heat, and try to salvage something of dinner. They stood together looking at the mess on the floor. Jack poked a little round lump. “What’s that?”
“A radish,” Gwen said. There were several similar lumps in the brownish mess on the floor.
“What was this supposed to be?” Jack finally asked.
“Stew,” Gwen said.
“There are no radishes in stew,” he said, shaking his head.
“It seemed like a good idea at the time. How did they get out of the pot?”
“I think they were trying to escape,” he said.
“I was going to make mash, too.” She stood back, looking at the distance between the stove and the floor. Suddenly, she giggled.
Jack regarded Gwen with a half-grin on his face, but couldn’t stop at that and began to laugh full out. Soon they were both whooping, feeding off each other’s giddiness. Gwen sat down and held her sides, gasping for air. Jack tried to stop himself, but one look at her smiling face and they both dissolved again.
It was such a release to laugh. Emotions had been running high for both of them all day. Jack was mildly frustrated, and he could only guess at the trepidation Gwen must have been feeling. It was far easier to laugh than to have to plumb the depths of her anxiety. He knew she’d have to face it eventually, and he was content to talk about the spoiled dinner for now.
Jack said he thought the mess on the floor didn’t even look like food anymore, and rather reminded him of something you might find in a weevil’s nest.
“I guess I’m out of practise,” she choked out.
“Nobody’s that hungry,” he said, pointing to the mess on the floor, and they both giggled.
They stepped over the congealing glop on the floor, and moved to sit side by side on the couch, quieting down. “Where’s the nearest pub?” he asked, “or do you want something more formal?”
Gwen gestured towards town. “The pub is a nice one,” she stood up and offered him her hand to get up. He pulled her down instead and surrounded her with his arms, touching his lips to her neck. He licked slowly up her throat and found his way to her lips, kissing her gently. Jack pulled her hand to his lips, and took one of her fingers into his mouth, sucking at it insistently. Shifting a little, he held her head, one hand twined in her hair, the other hand at the back of her neck, keeping her close. Their kiss deepened, teeth and tongues, until finally they broke apart to breathe.
She struggled free and made him stand up. “Dinner first.”
The sun was setting as they drove to the pub. It was a Friday night, and the pub was crowded and noisy. “How did it get so late?” Gwen said. “Didn’t we just have lunch?”
“It’s been an eternity since we had lunch,” Jack lamented through a mouthful of deep-fried skate. His fishy grin almost triggered her into another round of laughter.
She settled for snickering. “Don’t make me laugh again, I’ll be snorting ale out my nose!”
Jack was drinking only still water, but Gwen drank enough ale so that he could see that she was ever-so-slightly pissed, and they stayed until closing time, playing darts, dancing, talking, and kissing playfully. Jack guided Gwen home, and half-carried her into the cottage. She struggled to her feet and stepped across the room, still dancing. He took her by the hand and led her into the bedroom. She flopped onto the bed and Jack dragged her boots off. She lay back, singing out of tune, then she stopped wriggling, and let him remove her jeans.
“Are you going to have your way with me?” she inquired coyly.
Jack smiled. “Not a chance. You’re done for tonight.”
“That was such fun,” she said. “I can’t remember the last time I laughed so much!”
He slipped her nightgown over her head and smoothed it down over her hips, tipped her into bed, and flipped the coverlet over her. “Glad you had a good time. Sleep on it.”
“Don’t want to go to sleep!” she pouted, already losing the battle to keep her eyes open.
“I’ll leave the light on,” he said, caressing her face. “Sleep well.”
She murmured sleepily, “I’ll sleep better if you sleep with me.” She patted the other side of the bed. “Come on, Jack,” she crooned. “I won’t molest you.” Then she was asleep.
He shook his head, and went into the other room. He poured two fingers of whiskey from his flask into a small glass and listened to Gwen’s quiet breathing for a few minutes. When the whiskey was done, he put down the glass, hung up his coat, and strode into the bedroom, dropping his braces on the way.
~|~|~|~|~|~|~
Gwen woke in the night with a pounding headache, staggered to the bathroom, returned to the bed and snuggled up against the warm body she found there, falling back to sleep. Her head still ached when she woke to the morning sun, so she pulled the sheet over her head and went back to sleep, his body still nestled against her back.
When she woke up again, she was alone in the bed, the headache just a dull throb. She threw back the covers and rolled out of bed, drawn to the kitchen by the smell of coffee.
She threw herself into a chair, and Jack put a cup of hot coffee in front of her, sweet and whitened, the way she liked it. “You’ve saved my life,” she muttered.
He chuckled and sat down across from her. He nudged a plate of toast and jam across the table to her, and she pushed it away, moaning into her coffee. “I’m never going to drink that much again, never,” she whined.
Halfway through her second cup, she looked up blearily at Jack. “Did we . . . ?”
He shook his head. “We didn’t.”
“I was pretty drunk.”
“You were,” he agreed.
“I had a wonderful time.”
“You did.”
“You put me to bed . . .”
“I did.”
“And you did sleep with me?”
“I was in your bed, yes.”
“You held me?”
“Yes.”
“But we didn’t . . . ?”
“No.”
“Why not?” she asked.
“I wouldn’t have enjoyed it if you couldn’t be there for it,” he said dryly.
She was greatly amused. “Thanks for waiting for me,” she said, only a little surprised.
“It was the gentlemanly thing to do.”
She chuckled, then put a hand to her stricken head. “There are aspirin in the cabinet to the left of the range,” she whispered.
Two aspirin appeared on the table in front of her, along with a glass of water. She slugged them back and stood up. “I have to go back to bed for a while. Will you stay?”
“Yes,” he said. “I will.”
~|~|~|~|~|~|~
When Gwen woke up again a few hours later, she managed to put on some clothes, brush her teeth, and comb her hair. Presentable, she went out to the lounge and found Jack stretched out on the couch, a book in his hands. He put a bookmark into the page and closed the book. “How are we feeling?”
She smiled. “We’re feeling much better, thank you. And thank you.”
He nodded. “I’d like to tell you that it was a pleasure, but I would have to lie.”
“Well, I appreciate your honesty. And your forbearance.” She gestured to the book in is hands. “I see you found something to read?”
He held up the book. “Had it in my pocket. Say, is there a chance we could take a quick drive over to Manchester to pick up my stuff? These clothes are a little, ah, lived in, and I have a lot more in a bag in a locker at the airport.”
She nodded quickly. “Yes, of course. I should have asked earlier . . . are you really planning to stay here?”
For the first time, he looked uncomfortable. “Unless . . . ?”
“Oh, no, no,” she protested. “Stay, do.” She bit her lip. “Please stay with me. For a while, at least.”
~|~|~|~|~|~|~
Driving to Manchester in comfortable silence, Jack was extremely conscious of Gwen’s aching head. He drove more carefully than usual, and finally she spoke very quietly. “You didn’t say that you love me.”
“What?”
“I said that I had always loved you, and you didn’t say anything.”
“I told you that I wanted to be with you.”
“That’s not the same thing, is it?” She cocked her head and regarded him seriously. She must have been thinking about this for a while, and at this very moment an answer seemed to be imperative.
He drew the car to the side of the road and stopped it. “No, I guess it isn’t.” He stared straight ahead. He thought about the last time he had considered loving someone, and the time before that, going back in his life. It hardly ever turned out well. Over time, Jack had come to think of his fixed-point condition as a jinx, and sex was always slicker without love. But it was hard to deny, even to himself, that what he felt for Gwen-had always felt-was a deep emotional attachment, and he was simply afraid to admit that. Because when you admit it, even only to yourself, other people can get badly hurt.
“Um, say something,” she urged him.
“I can’t,” he said.
“You can’t?” she said, louder than she intended, and he winced.
“Not because I don’t. I am trying. Gwen, not because I don’t, see! It’s because . . . I’ve come to realise . . . what I’ve learned in all these years, wandering the universe, is that as long as you’re in the world, and I’m not with you, I’m just not . . . alive.”
She wiped a tear from her eye. “So you want me to say it to you, even though you can’t say it to me, and it’s not ok for you to outlive me, because, because, why?”
“I have this overwhelming need for you. I have to believe that if I can take good enough care of you, I won’t have to be lonely again . . .”
Gwen stopped him with a hand over his mouth, and he turned to face her. She said, “But you were trying to tell me that grief is a good thing because you keep people alive forever in your heart. Won’t you have me forever in your heart?”
Jack pulled her into his arms. “You must know that already.”
“No one has touched me for a very long time,” she said. “I want it to be you. If I’m honest, you were right that first day, when you told me I’d never get tired of following you. I will follow you forever. Forever, you . . . idiot.”
His lips were next to her ear, his whisper tickled the air. “I do love you, Gwen. I’ve loved you since the first moment I saw you.”
“Drive,” she said abruptly, taking a deep breath. She pulled away from him and pushed his shoulder, hard. “Drive now. Get us to Manchester as fast as you can. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can head back to the cottage. Hurry!”
~|~|~|~|~|~|~
Jack got them back to Wales in record time, driving very fast, even for him. His duffle in the boot made banging sounds as it rolled back and forth with the force of his abrupt turns. Gwen honestly didn’t know if she was supposed to be more thrilled or fearful. She kept stealing glances at Jack’s face, but she needed him to be focused on keeping the car on the road, and didn’t want to distract him. Her tension level heightened, and, as though he knew it, and without taking his eyes from the road, Jack put a hand on her leg. She felt the reassurance of his hand through her jeans, and put her hand on top of his.
He grinned at her. “Nervous?” he asked.
She nodded, forcing a smile. “Strange, isn’t it, after all this time? This feels like our first date.”
He laughed out loud. “Yeah, but with no curfew. Just you and me.”
“Yeah,” she sighed. She realised that her sigh sounded less than enthusiastic, and cast a worried look at Jack.
He turned to her and smiled gently, before turning back to the road, and that did more to relieve her worries than anything else. He let up on the accelerator, and slowed the car to a more legal speed. Gwen took another deep breath and squeezed his hand.
~|~|~|~|~|~|~
Jack pulled the car up at the back of the house, and turned it off. The car grew quiet, ticking away the engine’s heat, and he turned to Gwen. “Do you just want to sit in the car for a while?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know what’s come over me, Jack. I feel paralysed.”
Things weren’t going according to plan for Jack just now. He was sure that by now they’d have been in bed, but she seemed to be trying to delay that in any way that she could. He didn’t understand why. She had been afraid she’d lost him at the beach, eager for him before the drive to Manchester, and now she seemed to just want him to leave her alone. He decided to play along with her delaying tactics. He got out of the car, came around to her door and opened it. “C’mon,” he put out his hand. “Look, it’s a beautiful day, and it’s early in the afternoon.”
She stepped out of the car. “I’m okay. Just . . . a little bit apprehensive.”
“I know you are. Let’s do something simple this afternoon. I’ll put my stuff away, and you put together supplies for a little hike: some water, some snacks; put them in your backpack. We’ll take books, sit in the sunshine, and just have a quiet day.”
Gwen brightened. “Okay, that sounds great.” She leaned in to kiss his cheek. “How did you know the right thing to say?”
“ I’m rubbish at it,” he snorted, “And you know that.”
Gwen stopped to look at herself in the mirror over the desk. Jack walked up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. The desperately tired look was mostly gone from her face, and her eyes were shining. Her whole face was brighter, he could see it. She shook her head, making her hair swing. She looked . . . contented. He grinned at her from over her shoulder. Contented. He hadn’t seen that look on her for a long time.
He put his lips to her ear. “We’re not in any hurry, Gwen,” he whispered. “Let’s just have a nice afternoon.”
She broke away from him with a quick smile. “Just give me a second to get stuff together and get a sunhat.”
They drove toward Mount Snowdon, but didn’t get very far before they found a perfect spot with a tree and a grassy lea. Jack spread out the blanket in the sun, and took off his coat, bunching it up to make a pillow for Gwen. She lay back, pulling her sunhat over to shade her face. There was just enough breeze to make it comfortable in the sunshine.
“Want your book?” he asked her.
She was drowsy, breathing softly. He chuckled, took out his book, and settled down to read, but soon put it down and rolled to one side to prop his head on his hand and look down at her. He placed his arm across her gently, and she took his hand and pressed it to her heart.
They stayed a few hours, not really sleeping, not talking, but Jack could practically see Gwen’s body relax, the tension slipping away with the rest of her hangover. Jack alternated between reading and just watching her rest. The cool of afternoon chilled her and she touched Jack’s shoulder. “Let’s go home,” she said quietly. He smiled at her, pocketing his book, shaking out his coat, and slipping it on. Gwen gathered up the miscellaneous snack bags, and put them back into her pack with the empty Thermos. She shook out the blanket and pulled on a sweater. Jack put his arm around her back, and took the pack from her, slinging it over his other shoulder.
“Shall we go to dinner in town?” he proposed. “Someplace quieter than the pub?”
She nodded. “I know a place. We can go casual.”
He stopped and opened both arms wide. “Casual.”
“And that’s fine,” she pulled his arm back across her shoulder. “I’ll just freshen up a little and comb my hair,” she said in agreement.
He pressed her closer. “No worries,” he replied.
They drove into town for a quiet dinner, and the little restaurant Gwen chose was uncrowded and intimate. She found herself relaxing in Jack’s presence, and just being able to look across the table at him made her feel better. She was starting, just starting, to believe that maybe, maybe . . . He could also relax. She seemed ready to accept him. He hoped that was true.
~|~|~|~|~|~|~
Jack drove them slowly home, passing the turn for Gwen’s street in favor of driving a bit farther out of town. The light was brilliant out in the countryside, as the moon rose over the Little Orme. He stopped the car and they got out just to watch it clear the rocks. Jack stood behind Gwen with his arms, and his coat, wrapped around her.
The air was pleasingly cool and the moon rose quickly, only taking a few minutes to show her face. “It’s lovely,” Gwen murmured.
“We should go and see the moons rise from the blue beaches of Woman Wept,” he said. They have three moons: one white one, two blue ones; and they rise together every eighteen years. Rose Tyler told me about it, and I’ve always wanted to see it.”
She turned to him and he let her bury her face in his shirt front. He hugged her tightly for a minute, and they returned to the car, and he drove back towards home.
Coming through the front door, Gwen reached to turn on the lights, but Jack stayed her hand. “I don’t think we need the lights,” he whispered, “the moonlight is so bright.” He led her directly to the bedroom, “and I don’t need light to see you.”
They undressed in the dark on opposite sides of the bed. Gwen hesitated, and put her nightgown on, letting it fall over her body. Jack lay on the bed and pulled back the covers for her. She glimpsed his naked body lit by the moonlight and lay down tentatively on the other side of the bed. He opened his arms and she rolled into his embrace. He closed his arms around her, pressing his hands to her silk-covered back. “Do you need the night clothes?” he asked.
“Just for a while,” she said, haltingly. “It’s been a long time.”
His warm hands moved up and down her body, sliding on the silk. When he spoke again, his voice was husky again. “Gwen, please.”
“ ‘Arbella,’” she quoted to him, giggling a little, “ ‘lift your linens.’”
His hands stopped their movement. “Lift whose linens?”
In the darkness, Gwen’s voice danced with humour, “I think it was Sir Isaac Johnson, in the Massachusetts Bay Colony, who supposedly said it. When he wanted to have conjugal relations with his wife, he would say, ‘Arbella, lift your linens.’ They were Puritans.” She drew her gown over her head and settled back into the bed, naked, spooning in Jack’s eager arms. “I guess we know each other well enough to dispense with that formality.” He gathered her close. “I hope so,” he said, kissing the back of her neck while his hands moved down the front of her body, smoothing, soothing, making her writhe happily.
She struggled to stretch out atop him then, to feel his erection press against her belly. She shifted up, so that he could slide between her legs, where she captured him. “Jack,” she whispered. “Can you wait a little bit more?”
He murmured into her hair, “Do you need more time?”
Gwen rubbed her face against his chest, dreamily. “I want to savour this moment with you. It’s been a long time coming.” She licked at his skin. “I’ll never get used to how good you taste,” she marveled. “Can you imagine how many times I’ve slipped into sleep pleasing myself by imagining this . . . just this?”
His breathing quickened and his heartbeat increased. He pulled her closer with a hand on her bottom, pressing himself against her. “Only this?” he asked, moving his other hand into her hair, massaging her neck gently. “No more than this?”
She moaned with pleasure, and pressed her free hand between them, reaching down to touch him, which made him shiver a bit. “It’s been a long, long time since I’ve been with a man,” Gwen said, “I want to be sure it’s easy for both of us.”
He moved one hand to displace hers, and smoothly slipped a finger into her. “It will be easy, you’re ready.”
She pushed his hand away, and guided him into her. “Slowly, now,” she said. “I want to feel it all.”
Jack complied, slowing his penetration. She made tiny soft sounds as he pressed himself deeper, and finally stopped, his entire length sheathed within her. She moved slightly, tentatively, her inner muscles contracting to keep him in place. “Stay there,” she said, as her body rippled against him.
“That feels amazing, Gwen.” He gasped, and his head fell back against the pillow. She didn’t stop the movement, but she could feel his body tense with his efforts not to come too soon. She pushed his hands up by his head and braced herself, holding his wrists.
“For me, too,” she assured him. She let go of his arms and lay flat against him again, letting his hands return to playing across her back, while she caressed his face, fingertips tracing the features she had loved for so long. When her hands touched his lips, he opened his mouth to take them, licking at her fingers, and sucking them into his mouth, sucking hard. She gave herself up, sighing from the deepest part of her body.
“I’m going to move now,” he said, “if you’re ready.” She nodded assent, and he began to slide out and into her again, with increasing pressure, making her gasp. Somehow, he turned her, and loomed over her as she lay on her back. His thrusting became steady and strong. She held tightly to him, relishing every bit of friction. She started to pant under him, and he slowed his motion, knowing she was on the verge of her climax. He increased his speed again then, thrusting into her, and bringing her over the edge.
As Gwen’s shuddering shivering slowed, Jack lifted himself on his arms, looked down at her, and biting at his lip, deliberately allowed himself to come inside her, watching her. Her eyes were unfocussed as she blinked, long lashes brushing her cheeks, which burned with a sexy flush.
She looked at him with longing, and her mouth spread wide in a smile, showing the gap in her front teeth (which Jack had always said had an erotic effect on him). She ran her tongue over her teeth, and said, “Wow!”
Jack grinned at her. “It’ll be even better next time.” Holding her tightly, he rolled to the side, pulling her along, and she clasped him to her, trying to keep him inside her until the last possible minute.
To her surprise, he remained hard inside her, moving gently at the same time as he ran his free hand up her back, up into her hair again, and bent his head down to capture her mouth for a lingering kiss. She opened her mouth to him. When he withdrew, he made a lascivious job of licking the moisture from her lips and chin and cheeks. She started to giggle at his industriousness, and he pulled away from her, pretend hurt darkening his eyes.
“Something’s funny?”
She just looked up at him, her face wet with his saliva, and said, “I can’t be anything but happy.” He moved inside her again, just so, and she came again, shuddering in his arms. He kissed her, holding her tightly, and slowly withdrew.
After a few moments, she moved to get up from the bed, and he stopped her with a gentle hand. “Stay here,” and he got up bring back warm towels, and he washed and dried her gently, then cleaned himself before getting back into the bed to cuddle her.
She relished his caresses and repeated her explorations of his body from the day before, now moving her hands over him with certainty. He trailed kisses across her body, and down her legs, down her arms, and she tried to touch every inch of his skin. They knelt together in the middle of the big bed. Her skin flushed and moisture formed on both their faces. She was carefully kissing and licking every inch of his face when he grinned at her again. “Ready for another go?”
Gwen relaxed back onto the bed, stretching out luxuriously. The moonlight was only at the bottom of the bed now, and the darkness was almost complete in the room. They paused for a moment to savour the perfection of the moment before Jack raised himself over her. He paused before parting her legs and entering her again, more aggressively this time, and she rose to meet him. The lovemaking was more intense, and somehow even more satisfying than the first time.
“Jack,” Gwen complained gently, after their third coupling, “I’m starting to feel just a tiny bit . . . sore, now.” He laughed into her armpit, where he was currently licking her, and she struck out with a soft blow to his arse.
“If it’s spanking you want,” he threatened.
“No, it’s sleeping I want, you bugger. You’ve worn me out.” She rolled away from his hand, and pulled the duvet up over herself. “Want to join me for a bit of rejuvenating sleep, so we can do all of this again tomorrow?”
He nodded and burrowed beneath the duvet to embrace her. She fell asleep cradled in his arms, but not before she noted that the sun was brightening the windows.
~|~|~|~|~|~|~
Jack watched with some amusement as Gwen threw her clothes on willy-nilly, while hopping around the room looking for her shoes.
“Tell me again,” he said slowly, “why you have to get dressed and go out, right now, this minute?”
“Mrs. Owens has asked me to tea this afternoon and has invited some of the other neighbours, and she worries enough about me. I don’t need her to come down here to fetch me and find that you are lounging naked in my bed.” She found her Chucks and tied the laces, stopping by the bed to give him a very quick kiss in the middle of his chest, and a tickle under his chin before running for the door.
There was a knock at her door, and she made a silly and resigned face at Jack from the bedroom door. She sped out the front door, closing it tight behind her, and almost knocked over Mrs. Owens, who was standing on the doorstep. “Mrs. Williams,” the older lady said, “I was afraid something had happened to delay you. You do remember our tea, don’t you?”
“Oh yes, Mrs. Owens, of course I do. Sorry, I must have just overslept.” Gwen bit her lip hard; it was four o’clock in the afternoon.
Mrs. Owens linked arms with Gwen, and they sauntered slowly across the road. “Did you have a nice visit with your Captain this week? Is he in our military?”
“Not anymore,” Gwen said. “Not for quite a while.”
“Still fancies the coat, though.”
Gwen smiled a little. “He’s always liked the flair of it. Thank you for bringing him to me.” She looked back over her shoulder and saw Jack, bouncing naked in the window of the bedroom, apparently determined to embarrass her with his antics.
She blushed deeply and turned her attention back to Mrs. Owens to distract her from looking back at the window. “And he’ll be staying with me for a while. He’s been away, and just needs a bit of a break before his next . . . job.”
“Poor dear,” Mrs. Owens said, “he looked a bit tired when I met him in the post office, but just hearing your name brightened him right up. Was he a friend of your husband’s?”
“Yes,” Gwen admitted. “We’ve known him for a long time.” She nodded, thinking of what she could say while trying to fill out her story. “He’s been a good friend to our family.”
“Well, I hope you’ll settle with us, and once you meet more of our local people, you’ll feel at home here too.”
Gwen patted the older woman’s hand. “Mrs. Owens, don’t you think that you could just call me Gwen? After all, you were the first person I met when I moved in. That makes you my friend of longest standing here.”
Mrs. Owens just laughed, “Then I suppose you must call me Louisa, Gwen. And the rest of the ladies will just assume I am your oldest friend.”
Gwen actually enjoyed a few hours with Louisa’s friends, all of whom were over seventy. They were very kind ladies, and quite funny. When she left to stagger home, Gwen was pretty sure the punch, if not also the tea, had been spiked, and the humour had become more ribald towards the end of the party. Gwen marveled at what they would have had to talk about if they had seen Jack cavorting at her bedroom window.
She let herself in the front door, calling out hello to Jack. The rooms were silent, and she went looking for him in the bedroom. He had made up the bed with fresh sheets, but wasn’t anywhere in the house. She looked out the kitchen window and saw that her car was also gone. Then she found the note on the kitchen table. Shopping for dinner stuff. Home soon. Six little words that lightened her heart. She danced into the bedroom to change her clothes, choosing a loose dress and leaving her shoes behind. It seemed stuffy in the house, so she opened all the windows to let in the early evening air.
By the time she was sat in her chair by the window, Jack was back, lugging three shopping bags full of food into the kitchen. He dropped the bags and picked her up in a giant hug, swinging her into the air. “You had no food in the house.”
“So you had to buy enough for a whole week?”
“If we don’t have to leave the house,” he explained in a soft, slightly lewd drawl, “we won’t have to put on clothes for a week.”
“Brilliant,” she said, with a little thrill up her spine. “Shall we start now?”
“In a minute,” he said, putting foodstuffs away. “How was your afternoon with the ladies?”
She smiled broadly. “They are a bunch of grand old dames,” she said. “You’d have been in your element with them. I’m pretty sure there was whiskey in the teapot, and I’m a little loopy. Funny women. Beauties in their day, I’m sure.”
“I might have known some of them,” he mused.
“You might have, at that,” she concurred.
He looked up at her sideways, that look again, and said nothing.
She looked back at him over her shoulder as she took a step towards the bedroom, and he followed.
xxx