It had been a month since Rose had left, her end of the case complete and London calling for her to return. The last of the Torchwood group were finishing up the paperwork for their end of the forensics in preparation for the case against Swinson, and were expected to leave any day. In the weeks since her departure, Rose had made several ‘official ( Read more... )

Rose finished signing her name with a flourish, and tossed the pen onto the table. The report was done, printed, approved-and all that was left was to send it to London later that afternoon. No word had yet come back on the password to the tech, but it was the only remaining question left unanswered in the dozens of pages in front of her.

She and ( Read more... )

In the end, finding Swinson was the easiest part of the entire endeavour-if driving in circles, playing hot and cold, for several hours as the evening turned into night could be called ‘easy.’

They had spent fruitless hours driving in and around Kendal, chasing down red herrings and old traces, dutifully calling to check in every hour. The time ( Read more... )

The paperwork monster had been relatively slayed by mid-afternoon-helped largely by the fact that they ordered in lunch--and Rose decided it was finally time to make good on her promise of a ‘field trip’ for her team. Peter and Penington had gone missing--she vaguely recalled Peter saying they were going to do something related to the warrant- ( Read more... )

Peter was pulled from a pleasant dream--involving him, Rose, and a bathtub-by the trill of his phone. The clock read two forty-three, and he snatched the offending electronic off his nightstand before quietly growling into it, “Carlisle.”

Rose shifted next to him, and he felt his stomach drop at the thought that she’d not get a solid sleep that ( Read more... )

Peter was silent on the drive back into town, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he looked at the road. Something had occurred to him-or startled him-as he’d kissed her, and she wondered what it was. He glanced over at her several times, smiling, before returning his attention back to the road, and she felt a slow excitement build as they neared ( Read more... )

Mickey had called them back for a phone call from Jacques, apparently convinced it was urgent. The news ultimately hadn’t been that earth-shattering, although Peter appreciated that he was one of the people expected to be present to hear it. If nothing else, it had provided a nice middle-of-the-day update for the team in Kendal.

The man they’d taken ( Read more... )

Peter slowly blinked awake, the sound of the alarm clock invading the best night’s sleep he’d had in recent memory. He reached over and slapped the machine off, his mind wondering why the curtains were drawn over the windows, and why it was so bloody early. He groggily reached over to turn on the light, and remembered.

Rose was in bed with him.

( Read more... )

She’d just shagged the DI. Not once-twice.

Rose couldn’t help but grin as she pulled on her knickers. The robe Peter had lent her smelled of him, and she buried her nose in the collar before taking a good look around the room.

The bed was a dark wood, beautifully carved and set off by the deep red duvet; she had to admit, he had excellent taste ( Read more... )

This was really happening. Peter couldn’t quite believe it.

Rose’s lips, soft as he’d remembered, were caressing his, nipping and teasing in between languorous kisses. Her body was flush against his, her warm skin feeling like flame against his, her soft curves pressing into him in the most deliciously distracting way.

Her hand slowly slid up ( Read more... )