Mirror, Mirror [36/?]
Title: Mirror, Mirror
Rating: R [language and sexual situations]
Characters: Torchwood team, Torchwood team, PC Andy, Martha, Ten
Spoilers: Exit Wounds/Journey's End
Advisories: BDSM, polyamory, children, dark themes, MPreg references
Disclaimer: if you think this is even vaguely recognisable at this point...
Summary: A slip of the rift strands the Torchwood team... in Cardiff with the Torchwood team. There's nothing worse than getting on your own nerves.
**********
He'd apparently been writing up an incident report on the laptop set aside on the arm of the folded-down sofa, but now Owen's counterpart was merely watching his sleeping partner, a look of tender indulgence playing around the corners of his mouth. "Yeah, erm, so, he's... yeah," Owen began, trying to evaluate the condition of his casualty from what felt like a minimum safe distance.
His double's eyes flicked up to assess the relative threat level of this disturbance, then returned to Davidson. "Had worse."
He had the copper's wrapped hand elevated on a pillow in his lap, glint of a gold band plain on the ring finger. Owen pushed away memories of watching over another fair head in sleep and tried again: "Should have been thinking, he'd be used to working with you."
A mirthless snort. "Jack's a twat."
On that much they could agree, yeah. Owen glanced to where Junior was sullenly working his way through some simple maths Sato had set him at the creche's childproofed terminal and cautiously sat on the opposite arm of the sofa. "Where he was expecting me to be... Gwen wouldn't have trusted me to cover that."
His counterpart seemed to grasp what he was fumbling towards. "Tell him I'm not worth his trouble, but he's too bloody-minded to listen," he said with a crooked smile, one hand going out to stroke scruffy curls as Davidson began to stir. "-- Oi. How are you feeling?"
The copper's face squinched up in consideration. "Want a wank."
Owen's double gave a shrewd look to the way that Davidson was failing miserably to get his good arm unwound from the sheet. "Reckon I'd have to help you find it."
"Right, well, I'll leave you to that," Owen said, hastily sliding off the arm of the sofa. The copper slurred something into the pillow that sounded like it had included the words fuck off. "He in any bloody state?"
Now the pillow was singing quietly about its handle and its spout. "Think 'm gonna just take him home as soon as he can make it down to the car. Up to you to mind the shop here for the rest of the day, your lot can get a lift back with Tosh if there's anything left of you by the time Jack's finished getting creative."
Having to sort what amounted to his own notes on his own experiments for an afternoon seemed like getting away with something, almost. "Fair cop."
"And mind the rats are a dog's breakfast in the cages, you'll have to ID them by the chips 'cos I just swopped in a new Nibbles and Cheeser."
"...Right."
Rating: R [language and sexual situations]
Characters: Torchwood team, Torchwood team, PC Andy, Martha, Ten
Spoilers: Exit Wounds/Journey's End
Advisories: BDSM, polyamory, children, dark themes, MPreg references
Disclaimer: if you think this is even vaguely recognisable at this point...
Summary: A slip of the rift strands the Torchwood team... in Cardiff with the Torchwood team. There's nothing worse than getting on your own nerves.
**********
He'd apparently been writing up an incident report on the laptop set aside on the arm of the folded-down sofa, but now Owen's counterpart was merely watching his sleeping partner, a look of tender indulgence playing around the corners of his mouth. "Yeah, erm, so, he's... yeah," Owen began, trying to evaluate the condition of his casualty from what felt like a minimum safe distance.
His double's eyes flicked up to assess the relative threat level of this disturbance, then returned to Davidson. "Had worse."
He had the copper's wrapped hand elevated on a pillow in his lap, glint of a gold band plain on the ring finger. Owen pushed away memories of watching over another fair head in sleep and tried again: "Should have been thinking, he'd be used to working with you."
A mirthless snort. "Jack's a twat."
On that much they could agree, yeah. Owen glanced to where Junior was sullenly working his way through some simple maths Sato had set him at the creche's childproofed terminal and cautiously sat on the opposite arm of the sofa. "Where he was expecting me to be... Gwen wouldn't have trusted me to cover that."
His counterpart seemed to grasp what he was fumbling towards. "Tell him I'm not worth his trouble, but he's too bloody-minded to listen," he said with a crooked smile, one hand going out to stroke scruffy curls as Davidson began to stir. "-- Oi. How are you feeling?"
The copper's face squinched up in consideration. "Want a wank."
Owen's double gave a shrewd look to the way that Davidson was failing miserably to get his good arm unwound from the sheet. "Reckon I'd have to help you find it."
"Right, well, I'll leave you to that," Owen said, hastily sliding off the arm of the sofa. The copper slurred something into the pillow that sounded like it had included the words fuck off. "He in any bloody state?"
Now the pillow was singing quietly about its handle and its spout. "Think 'm gonna just take him home as soon as he can make it down to the car. Up to you to mind the shop here for the rest of the day, your lot can get a lift back with Tosh if there's anything left of you by the time Jack's finished getting creative."
Having to sort what amounted to his own notes on his own experiments for an afternoon seemed like getting away with something, almost. "Fair cop."
"And mind the rats are a dog's breakfast in the cages, you'll have to ID them by the chips 'cos I just swopped in a new Nibbles and Cheeser."
"...Right."