Just a Human with Two hearts (5/?)
Title: Just a Human With Two Hearts (5/?)
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Rating: Still R for violence language and generally being Torchwood
Summary: She wasn't supposed to be there, but somehow she survived. Can she move on from a war that took everything from her?
Notes: Still written for Time Crash :) Still don't anyone but the dear Lacey, though here she's still Mystic.
Tosh led the Mystic to her flat that evening. She looked back at the woman who trailed behind her, carrying the shopping. She'd come to them with nothing, and she was shorter than Tosh, so Jack sent them out get her at least the beginnings of a wardrobe. She was wondering if he expected her to get something else out of Mystic, but she had barely spoken more than a few sentences since their introductions. “Well,” Tosh said, smiling, “here we are. Your room is through there,” she pointed to the hallway to the right. “Do want any help putting that away?”
Mystic shook her head. “I think I can manage,” she said, heading off to the room Tosh had indicated. She didn't look to see if her new coworker was following her. She set the bags down on the bed. It was as meticulously decorated as the rest of Tosh's flat, and just as barren. Mystic sat down on the edge of the bed with sigh. She didn't want to be here. She didn't want to be anywhere, but back on Gallifrey, burning with her people, but she couldn't go back. She pulled out the clothes she found. Mostly t-shirts, skinny jeans, short skirts and the occasional button down shirt to go with the corset vest she found. She looked down at the boots she picked out, all with four inch heels. Tosh had insisted she grab a few pairs of flats, considering how much running they'd be doing on the job.
Job, that was another thing she never wanted again. She had a job once, a family, and a home. Something that for her kind was a luxury, and of course, she should have known it would all fall out from under her. Things like that always did, and this time it took her whole world. Everything she ever loved, gone. She started putting the clothes in the dresser, stacking the shoes next to the bed, and then she sat there, looking at the Pajamas she grabbed to sleep in. She felt silly now, looking at them, but at the time, it was something to ground her.
Tosh was in the living room, putting up some of the new books she got while they were at the mall. She was about to take the clothes she'd gotten on whim when the doorbell rang. She dropped the bags just inside her bedroom before answering the door, smirking at Owen standing there with a six pack and a couple of pizzas. “Well, that's more than usually bring over.”
He shrugged. “Figured I'd get two. Who knows what she even likes?” He walked in and set the pizza on the counter in her kitchen, while Tosh walked to Mystic's room. She knocked gently on the door.
“Come,” the woman called to her. Tosh entered the room, pausing as she realized she was half naked and changing. “Was that the front door?”
“Yes, Owen brought beer and pizza. I thought you might want to join us.” The Mystic gave her a look. “Yes, I'm aware the two of you got off on such good terms already, it might be too much for you so soon. But as much of a bottomless pit as Owen is,” she chuckled when she heard him protest that, “even we'd have a hard time putting away that much Pizza.”
The Mystic shrugged, pulling back on her jeans instead of the tinkerbell sleep pants she'd had been reaching for. She left on the plain pink tank though. She grabbed the ball of rubberbands she had sitting on the nightstand. “He pisses me off, I won't hesitate to shoot him one.”
“Believe me, we all want to do that at some point or another.”
She stuck the rubber bands in the pockets of her jeans, and followed Tosh back out into the rest of the apartment. Owen had wasted no time making himself at home, his jacket resting on the back of the sofa, his shoes off and a beer already in hand. He looked over at the two women as they walked out to join them. He gave a little half laugh at the Mystic's choice of wardrobe. “Nice, Lacey.”
She glowered at him as she wandered into the kitchen, grabbing a couple of slices of the pizza and a beer. “It's Mystic,” she said, the name ground out between two clenched teeth.
“And I maintain it's a ridiculously pompous name and Lacey is much simpler,” He said, drinking his beer, “why are you so against it?”
“I told you,” she said, flopping down on the far side of the sofa, “it was a stupid nickname my mother gave me as a kid because I insisted on wearing frilly earth dresses. I chose the Mystic for my title, and considering I have nothing else left to me, I'm holding onto that.”
Owen and Tosh shared a look. They both knew they could never understand what she was going through so neither said anything as she laid into the pizza. He raised an eyebrow. “And here I was worried you wouldn't even know what pizza was.”
“Well, shows what you know, Harper. You humans think you're so clever, but you were not, in fact, the first to invent a flat bread topped with sauces, cheeses, spices, meat and vegetables.” She took another bite.
“Need I remind you that you are technically one of us as well, at least by heritage?”
“No, I've been reminded of it enough in my life, I don't need your help,” she growled. She pulled out a rubber-band, but before she could fire it off, one was bouncing off her nose. She blinked a few times as Owen chuckled at her expression and Tosh tried to hide her own laughter behind her beer. She smirked at him. “Nice one,” then she shot him so it hit his ear.
“Ow, damn, that stings!” He said, pulling out another rubber-band to aim at her. Mystic had already dived behind the chair she'd been sitting in, laughing at him.
The two continued to shoot rubber-bands at each other, somehow becoming less of something to do to annoy each other and more a game of really low budget laser-tag. Tosh sat on the sofa, watching the two. They were acting more like two kids than two adults, with occasional, 'Ha!” and “gotcha!” yelled out between the two. Both also seemed to have killer aim. Neither had missed the other yet, but Tosh did still duck with a laugh anytime one of them got too close to her.
Neither Owen nor Tosh was expecting what happened next, but in hindsight, they both knew they should have. Owen shot off a rubber-band that the Mystic ducked at the last second, and it knocked over one of Tosh's vases, where it crashed to the floor and broke next to the woman. She jerked backed as if she'd been shot, pressing against the wall as if trying to hide.
Owen tried to approach her. “Hey, Lacey. It's ok, it's just a vase.” He watched her look at him, and then look through him, like he wasn't even there. “wonderful,” he muttered. She'd checked out. Which meant one wrong move could get him slapped, or worse. “Hey,” he tried again, “come on, it's ok. Look around you, I mean really look.” He kept his voice calm and low.
She looked around, like he said, and Mystic realized she was safe. This wasn't a war zone, it hadn't been the glass around the Citadel crashing down around their heads in the attack before their final stand, when they made the decision to give final orders. Her hands were different. That was a different woman. Taller, collected on the outside, but dead on the inside. She looked at her hand, she must have hit some of the wreckage of the vase, her palm was bleeding.
Owen noticed it too. “Here, let me clear that out.” He looked over his shoulder at Tosh, “Tosh, you got a first aid in the kitchen, right?” He was trying to remember is that's where she kept it the last time he managed to burn himself trying to heat some coffee while hungover at the flat. He turned back to Lacey only to see her run into her room and slam the door. He stood with a sigh.
“I'll go check on her,” Tosh said, having already gotten the first aid kit.
“Right, I'll...I'll clean this and then I should probably go,” He said, checking the time. Gwen would probably be on her way to his flat right now. This was getting out of control, both of them knew it. It didn't stop them.
Tosh nodded, though she noticed the look at the watch. Something had changed since the incident in the countryside. The pizza nights that had more than once ended with an inebriated Owen asleep on her sofa or in her spare room now would end long before midnight. “Have a good night, then Owen. See you at work tomorrow,” She smiled, before turning got knock on the Mystic's door. “Mystic?”
“Come.”
Tosh opened the door to see her roommate sitting on the edge of her bed, hand wrapped in a bit of cloth from her old fatigue jacket. “Here, this might be a bit better, and well,”
“Cleaner?” Mystic said, giving a bit of a humourless chuckle. Tosh nodded with a smile. “Thanks. It's not bad though. Just need some tweezers to pick out the glass. Sorry about the vase, by the way.”
“Don't worry about it. That was all on Owen,” she said, sitting next to the girl, and handing her the tweezers. “And besides, I've learned not to put out my expensive vases when he comes over. Usually he gets far drunker and is much less coordinated.”
Mystic nodded absently as she picked the glass out of her hand, dropping them onto the cloth she'd used to staunch the bleeding. There wasn't much to pick out. “So, you and the git, are you lovers?”
“What? No,” Tosh said, a little too quickly, “we're just friends.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Just friends, but you want a bit more, don't you?” She grinned at Tosh's blush. “Have you just said something to him?”
“Owen's not...I don't think he's interested. He's more interested in the sex. And we're just friends,” Tosh emphasized the friends again.
Mystic didn't say anything, just smirked at her as she put a few plasters over the worst of the cuts. “So,” she asked, changing the subject, “what time does the Captain expect us to be in?”
“Well, we're expected to be in around seven unless we get a call.”
She flicked her blue eyes to the clock. “Well then, I suppose we should think of calling it a night.”
“How much sleep do you need?” She remembered reading after finding out the girl was a Time Lord, finding out research about their species. She knew Mystic wasn't a full Time Lord, but from what she read Time Lords themselves could go a full week without shutting down for sleep.
“I'm more human than Time Lord, really. I get a few nifty tricks; exceptionally long life, the whole regeneration thing, two hearts and some mild telepathy, but other than that,” she shrugged, “maybe the git's right. Maybe I should just let go, just be Lacey Johnson.”
“You said earlier that Mystic was the one last thing you had. Are you able to give that up?”
“I don't know.”
“Then hold onto it. Ignore Owen, he's only doing it because it's getting a rise out of you. It's just his way.”
“He's a git.”
Tosh chuckled, helping Mystic put the things back in the med kit. “Yeah, that's pretty much everyone's first impression of him.” She stood up, “Is there anything you need?”
“No, I think I'm good. Thanks,” she said, nodding at the kit and implying with her tone much more, “I'll see you in the morning, Toshiko.”
“Call me Tosh,” she said, “Good night, Mystic.” She closed the door behind her, hoping that Owen would still be there, but he must have left already. His jacket was gone and there was note on the counter apologizing for the vase and that he'd see them in the morning. He also wished her luck with the pompous alien from hell. She shook her head at the two of them, before putting up the remains of their dinner and heading to her own room.
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Rating: Still R for violence language and generally being Torchwood
Summary: She wasn't supposed to be there, but somehow she survived. Can she move on from a war that took everything from her?
Notes: Still written for Time Crash :) Still don't anyone but the dear Lacey, though here she's still Mystic.
Tosh led the Mystic to her flat that evening. She looked back at the woman who trailed behind her, carrying the shopping. She'd come to them with nothing, and she was shorter than Tosh, so Jack sent them out get her at least the beginnings of a wardrobe. She was wondering if he expected her to get something else out of Mystic, but she had barely spoken more than a few sentences since their introductions. “Well,” Tosh said, smiling, “here we are. Your room is through there,” she pointed to the hallway to the right. “Do want any help putting that away?”
Mystic shook her head. “I think I can manage,” she said, heading off to the room Tosh had indicated. She didn't look to see if her new coworker was following her. She set the bags down on the bed. It was as meticulously decorated as the rest of Tosh's flat, and just as barren. Mystic sat down on the edge of the bed with sigh. She didn't want to be here. She didn't want to be anywhere, but back on Gallifrey, burning with her people, but she couldn't go back. She pulled out the clothes she found. Mostly t-shirts, skinny jeans, short skirts and the occasional button down shirt to go with the corset vest she found. She looked down at the boots she picked out, all with four inch heels. Tosh had insisted she grab a few pairs of flats, considering how much running they'd be doing on the job.
Job, that was another thing she never wanted again. She had a job once, a family, and a home. Something that for her kind was a luxury, and of course, she should have known it would all fall out from under her. Things like that always did, and this time it took her whole world. Everything she ever loved, gone. She started putting the clothes in the dresser, stacking the shoes next to the bed, and then she sat there, looking at the Pajamas she grabbed to sleep in. She felt silly now, looking at them, but at the time, it was something to ground her.
Tosh was in the living room, putting up some of the new books she got while they were at the mall. She was about to take the clothes she'd gotten on whim when the doorbell rang. She dropped the bags just inside her bedroom before answering the door, smirking at Owen standing there with a six pack and a couple of pizzas. “Well, that's more than usually bring over.”
He shrugged. “Figured I'd get two. Who knows what she even likes?” He walked in and set the pizza on the counter in her kitchen, while Tosh walked to Mystic's room. She knocked gently on the door.
“Come,” the woman called to her. Tosh entered the room, pausing as she realized she was half naked and changing. “Was that the front door?”
“Yes, Owen brought beer and pizza. I thought you might want to join us.” The Mystic gave her a look. “Yes, I'm aware the two of you got off on such good terms already, it might be too much for you so soon. But as much of a bottomless pit as Owen is,” she chuckled when she heard him protest that, “even we'd have a hard time putting away that much Pizza.”
The Mystic shrugged, pulling back on her jeans instead of the tinkerbell sleep pants she'd had been reaching for. She left on the plain pink tank though. She grabbed the ball of rubberbands she had sitting on the nightstand. “He pisses me off, I won't hesitate to shoot him one.”
“Believe me, we all want to do that at some point or another.”
She stuck the rubber bands in the pockets of her jeans, and followed Tosh back out into the rest of the apartment. Owen had wasted no time making himself at home, his jacket resting on the back of the sofa, his shoes off and a beer already in hand. He looked over at the two women as they walked out to join them. He gave a little half laugh at the Mystic's choice of wardrobe. “Nice, Lacey.”
She glowered at him as she wandered into the kitchen, grabbing a couple of slices of the pizza and a beer. “It's Mystic,” she said, the name ground out between two clenched teeth.
“And I maintain it's a ridiculously pompous name and Lacey is much simpler,” He said, drinking his beer, “why are you so against it?”
“I told you,” she said, flopping down on the far side of the sofa, “it was a stupid nickname my mother gave me as a kid because I insisted on wearing frilly earth dresses. I chose the Mystic for my title, and considering I have nothing else left to me, I'm holding onto that.”
Owen and Tosh shared a look. They both knew they could never understand what she was going through so neither said anything as she laid into the pizza. He raised an eyebrow. “And here I was worried you wouldn't even know what pizza was.”
“Well, shows what you know, Harper. You humans think you're so clever, but you were not, in fact, the first to invent a flat bread topped with sauces, cheeses, spices, meat and vegetables.” She took another bite.
“Need I remind you that you are technically one of us as well, at least by heritage?”
“No, I've been reminded of it enough in my life, I don't need your help,” she growled. She pulled out a rubber-band, but before she could fire it off, one was bouncing off her nose. She blinked a few times as Owen chuckled at her expression and Tosh tried to hide her own laughter behind her beer. She smirked at him. “Nice one,” then she shot him so it hit his ear.
“Ow, damn, that stings!” He said, pulling out another rubber-band to aim at her. Mystic had already dived behind the chair she'd been sitting in, laughing at him.
The two continued to shoot rubber-bands at each other, somehow becoming less of something to do to annoy each other and more a game of really low budget laser-tag. Tosh sat on the sofa, watching the two. They were acting more like two kids than two adults, with occasional, 'Ha!” and “gotcha!” yelled out between the two. Both also seemed to have killer aim. Neither had missed the other yet, but Tosh did still duck with a laugh anytime one of them got too close to her.
Neither Owen nor Tosh was expecting what happened next, but in hindsight, they both knew they should have. Owen shot off a rubber-band that the Mystic ducked at the last second, and it knocked over one of Tosh's vases, where it crashed to the floor and broke next to the woman. She jerked backed as if she'd been shot, pressing against the wall as if trying to hide.
Owen tried to approach her. “Hey, Lacey. It's ok, it's just a vase.” He watched her look at him, and then look through him, like he wasn't even there. “wonderful,” he muttered. She'd checked out. Which meant one wrong move could get him slapped, or worse. “Hey,” he tried again, “come on, it's ok. Look around you, I mean really look.” He kept his voice calm and low.
She looked around, like he said, and Mystic realized she was safe. This wasn't a war zone, it hadn't been the glass around the Citadel crashing down around their heads in the attack before their final stand, when they made the decision to give final orders. Her hands were different. That was a different woman. Taller, collected on the outside, but dead on the inside. She looked at her hand, she must have hit some of the wreckage of the vase, her palm was bleeding.
Owen noticed it too. “Here, let me clear that out.” He looked over his shoulder at Tosh, “Tosh, you got a first aid in the kitchen, right?” He was trying to remember is that's where she kept it the last time he managed to burn himself trying to heat some coffee while hungover at the flat. He turned back to Lacey only to see her run into her room and slam the door. He stood with a sigh.
“I'll go check on her,” Tosh said, having already gotten the first aid kit.
“Right, I'll...I'll clean this and then I should probably go,” He said, checking the time. Gwen would probably be on her way to his flat right now. This was getting out of control, both of them knew it. It didn't stop them.
Tosh nodded, though she noticed the look at the watch. Something had changed since the incident in the countryside. The pizza nights that had more than once ended with an inebriated Owen asleep on her sofa or in her spare room now would end long before midnight. “Have a good night, then Owen. See you at work tomorrow,” She smiled, before turning got knock on the Mystic's door. “Mystic?”
“Come.”
Tosh opened the door to see her roommate sitting on the edge of her bed, hand wrapped in a bit of cloth from her old fatigue jacket. “Here, this might be a bit better, and well,”
“Cleaner?” Mystic said, giving a bit of a humourless chuckle. Tosh nodded with a smile. “Thanks. It's not bad though. Just need some tweezers to pick out the glass. Sorry about the vase, by the way.”
“Don't worry about it. That was all on Owen,” she said, sitting next to the girl, and handing her the tweezers. “And besides, I've learned not to put out my expensive vases when he comes over. Usually he gets far drunker and is much less coordinated.”
Mystic nodded absently as she picked the glass out of her hand, dropping them onto the cloth she'd used to staunch the bleeding. There wasn't much to pick out. “So, you and the git, are you lovers?”
“What? No,” Tosh said, a little too quickly, “we're just friends.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Just friends, but you want a bit more, don't you?” She grinned at Tosh's blush. “Have you just said something to him?”
“Owen's not...I don't think he's interested. He's more interested in the sex. And we're just friends,” Tosh emphasized the friends again.
Mystic didn't say anything, just smirked at her as she put a few plasters over the worst of the cuts. “So,” she asked, changing the subject, “what time does the Captain expect us to be in?”
“Well, we're expected to be in around seven unless we get a call.”
She flicked her blue eyes to the clock. “Well then, I suppose we should think of calling it a night.”
“How much sleep do you need?” She remembered reading after finding out the girl was a Time Lord, finding out research about their species. She knew Mystic wasn't a full Time Lord, but from what she read Time Lords themselves could go a full week without shutting down for sleep.
“I'm more human than Time Lord, really. I get a few nifty tricks; exceptionally long life, the whole regeneration thing, two hearts and some mild telepathy, but other than that,” she shrugged, “maybe the git's right. Maybe I should just let go, just be Lacey Johnson.”
“You said earlier that Mystic was the one last thing you had. Are you able to give that up?”
“I don't know.”
“Then hold onto it. Ignore Owen, he's only doing it because it's getting a rise out of you. It's just his way.”
“He's a git.”
Tosh chuckled, helping Mystic put the things back in the med kit. “Yeah, that's pretty much everyone's first impression of him.” She stood up, “Is there anything you need?”
“No, I think I'm good. Thanks,” she said, nodding at the kit and implying with her tone much more, “I'll see you in the morning, Toshiko.”
“Call me Tosh,” she said, “Good night, Mystic.” She closed the door behind her, hoping that Owen would still be there, but he must have left already. His jacket was gone and there was note on the counter apologizing for the vase and that he'd see them in the morning. He also wished her luck with the pompous alien from hell. She shook her head at the two of them, before putting up the remains of their dinner and heading to her own room.