My bags drop on the cold stone tiles of the House as the door closes behind her. The trip to
Cardiff has been more than successful. In fact, it has surpassed anything my wildest dreams can come up with. Visiting old friends has been a breath of fresh air, as has returning to the place where, in effect, this all had started for me
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I'm raising my voice at the Torchwood equivalent of a speaker 'phone, on a conference call with people who should know better. I'm in my study, which is a large alcove adjacent to the bedroom I share with Sarah Jane Smith, lover and mother of my children, bless her. I'm standing in my bare feet, in my silk pajamas - new and blue in a gift from Sarah last Christmas - and a ratty old bathrobe is a bright red tartan - long story for another time - and I was relaxing, until the call.
An annoying male voice says, "Professor Harrow, please be reasonable -"
And that's my cue to do the opposite.
"Get off the 'phone, you stupid git! I'll talk to Winnie, but not to you and I don't care that you're now the one in charge of UNIT, Mr. Fancy Pants."
"That's Dancy-Vance, and Brigadier to you," the male voice asserts.
"Professor?" That's Winifred Bambera, the Brigadier I know. Not the brightest bulb in the box, but I've encountered far worse. "Maybe now isn't a good time for this ( ... )
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He's still on the phone and, from what I was able to overhear, on the phone with UNIT. As much as I still hold the organisation dear, in the past ten years, I've come to understand the frustrations Torchwood possesses with the group. The new employees (exceptions being amazing individuals like Martha) are rather inept, push comes to shove.
My hands cover my mouth as I laugh, trying hard not to be much of an interruption. I can tell he's on speaker; he's pacing far too much otherwise. Smiling warmly, I place a hand on his forearm. It's supposed to be a calming action.
"Brigadier?" I interrupt, not waiting for Ewan to reply. "Winnie? I'm afraid Professor Harrow is now otherwise occupied. This... conversation, as it is, will have to continue tomorrow afternoon. Goodnight, to both of you."
Polite but firm. Always the best way to deal with UNIT.
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"What she said," I declare to the room, then, "Computer, disconnect the call."
Then I turn to Sarah and am about to ask what on Earth she's doing here when she wasn't supposed to be here until tomorrow morning, but I decide to kiss her instead. It wasn't been the best evening I've had on this planet - until she arrived.
I wrap my arms around her and draw her to me, my lips meeting hers.
Leman, your timing is brilliant.
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The look on his face when he realises that it's me standing here bossing about UNIT HQ is priceless. I can feel the love radiate within the room already. I stand there basking within it and sigh. Oh, how I've missed home these past few days. How I've missed him.
Who knew that I'd ever turn out to be such a homebody?
And I'm quickly reminded of why when he kisses me - gentle yet fiery, a perfect hello after a few days apart. Mentally, I laugh at his statement. I'll have to ask him about this conversation later, but right now there are more important things.
Like wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him back. Like my surprise.
Years of practice, darling. I may not have any power, but I do have an amazing sense of intuition. Especially when it comes to you.
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I slide from the bed and stand in my bare feet. Then I meet her gaze as I undo the buttons of my pajama bottoms and slowly pull them open and down, letting the silk puddle at my feet.
"So, leman, will you kiss me everywhere now?" I sink slowly to my knees, completely naked and needy before her, the beginnings of my arousal clearly evident now that I'm free from the confines of my clothing.
I stare up at her with wide eyes and my arms spread at my sides, lick my lips, and say huskily, "Please?"
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It's been only a few days since I last saw his naked body, but it feels more like months.
"I will," I whisper as I sink on to my own knees in front of him. I lick my dry lips and nod. "Oh, I will."
And then I begin. I kiss the crown of his head and his brow and his nose and his lips. My mouth begins to work at his neck, kissing and nipping downward. I reach his chest but if I'll to be going any further, he'll need to stand.
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Sarah kneels in front of me and presses sweet kisses across my face, down my neck. I sigh and moan when she pauses. I suppose she wants me to stand.
Sod that.
I lean backwards and slide down, my back on the carpet, stretching my legs out, smiling at her.
"Better? You're making my legs weak, leman, so I doubt I can stand..."
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"Absolutely greedy you are," I murmur, bending over him to resume my trail of kisses. I start to move downward from his neck, continuing the same pattern of nips and feather light kisses from before. I stop at his breasts to give each nipple the attention they deserve.
"Completely," I whisper, my tongue then flicking over a nipple, " and absolutely," kiss, "greedy."
And with that, I find his abdomen and work my mouth towards his erection.
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