Lost Archives: Under M for "Mistakes"

Jun 29, 2009 21:26

Title: Under M for "Mistakes"
Series: Torchwood
Characters: Jack Harkness, Abigail RIchardson (OC)
Rating PG
Spoilers: None
Summary: Jack thinks he has pushed away a friend and hides away in the archives until the truth comes out.
Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood or the characters therein, they belong to the BBC and RTD. Any original characters and places are my property.
Author's Notes: I said we would jump around, apparently we would jump around in time also. Comments are welcomed!



Lost Archives: Under M for “Mistakes”
October 1950

Jack opened the next file, perusing it for basic cataloguing. It was an easy system to learn, the archives, he just preferred action before the mundane. Except today. Today he was buried deep enough in the archives, catching up on old filing, that no one should find him. They would have been more able to find him if he was locked up in the morgue than down in this far room. He was so far underground even he was chilly.

Arranging the current file in linear order, Jack tapped all the papers in to the folder so none of the papers would be ruined and pulled open the bottom drawer. Perusing through the subjects stored in that drawer, he finally found the right place for inserting info on the Declans. Dropping the folder into place his body snapped upwards as a hand connected hard with his arse.

Jack spun on his heels to face his attacker, and promptly found himself falling backwards. His ankle caught on the open drawer and he tripped over it, landing hard on his back. Breath catching in his throat, he looked up, smarting all over.

“Oh gosh! Jack!” Abigail Richardson dropped to her knees, her grey skirt skimming the concrete floor. She grabbed his ankles and unhooked his trousers from where they had snagged the metal drawer casing. “I needed to talk to you- God, are you okay?”

Abigail, Abbie, was the last person he wanted to talk to. Why did she think he had buried himself down in the far archives for the last two days? She had never wanted… He had never intended… Jack let out a heavy sigh.

She put a slender hand on his back and grabbed his wrist with her other hand. Moving him up to a sitting position, she scowled at him. This is what he was afraid of.

“Are you okay Jack?” Abbie seemed to checking him over, her hazel eyes worried.

“I’ll be fine, just got the wind knocked out of me,” he said as he disentangled his hand from hers.

“Good, I’m glad,” Abbie stated, seeming relieved. She then hauled off and slapped him, hard, across the face.

Jack grabbed at his cheek, not saying a word. He massaged the sting out of it and stood up. Holding out his other hand, Abbie took it and stood next to him. Jack turned away from her. He deserved it.

“Oh no. No. No. No.” Abbie tugged on his hand, making him turn around. She grasped it with both of hers. “Why have you secreted yourself away down here? I didn’t know where you were! Jonathon finally told me where you were.”

“Jonathon should learn to keep his mouth shut,” Jack muttered.

“Don’t you dare do anything to Jonathon,” Abbie admonished. “At least not without me.” She sighed, letting go of his hand. She regarded him. “I know no one knows these archives as well as you do, but usually you have to be asked to update them. You also never stay down here longer than two hours at a time.”

“Your intelligence is good,” Jack softly said, leaning back against the wall furthest away from Abbie.

“I learned from the best,” Abbie stated. She let out an exasperated grunt and then stalked up to him and whapped him on the shoulder. “Damn it Jack! I was worried sick about you!”

Jack pulled back from her, surprised at Abbie’s choice of words. “Worried?”

“You left, without waking me up, without leaving a note, without saying anything! You could have been bleeding in a gutter, and none of us would have known.” She brought her hand up to his cheek, the same one she had slapped earlier, and caressed it. “I’m sorry.”

He grasped her hand, holding it to his cheek. He could faintly smell lily of the valley. It was her favourite perfume. “No. I’m sorry. I know you never wanted to go there with me.”

“Go where?” She looked at him so lovingly, Jack couldn’t believe he had betrayed her like that. What’s worse, he couldn’t remember what he had done.

“I woke up next you, in your bed, naked,” Jack said, looking away from her.

A laugh caught in Abbie’s throat. His head snaked back so he could see her face, smirking, holding the chuckle in. Had she finally snapped?

“Oh, Jack,” she said. “Did you not notice you were bandaged up? Do you not remember what happened?”

He shook his head no. That was the truth. The last thing he could remember before waking up in her bed was the two of them leaving Torchwood, following up a report that had come in about an odd glowing container in Grangetown.

“God! Why are men so daft all the time?” She pulled her hand away and leaned up against the wall next to him. “We went to Coedcae Street to check out the report we had gotten and you stepped in front of me when it started attacking. Things started coming out of that box, things I had never seen before.”

Abbie turned her head towards him, a glint in her eye. It was that certain gaze she got when she was about to figure something out. Normally Jack would have been reveling in that look also, except for the fact that he was certain he had defiled Abbie, or done something equally as dastardly.

“I think it might have been a trans-dimensional gateway. There is no means I can think of that it would have been able to hold all that weaponry in that little box if it was not.” She reached down and took his hand in hers. “It kept attacking you, and then there came a silver sphere from the box. It flashed a yellow light in your eyes and you collapsed at my feet. Then the box winked out.”

“Winked out?”

“Disappeared. Nothing was left behind except your bloody body, gasping on the ground.” He could feel her fingers tracing outlines in the palm of his hand. “I dragged you back to my place since it was closer.”

“Dragged?” Jack looked at her sideways.

“Stumbled along is more like it,” Abbie corrected. “You were conscious enough for me to support you and steer you around.”

“But…” Jack gave her an astonished look. “I’m taller than you, I weigh more than you-“

“One policeman thought you were my deadbeat boyfriend. He took pity on me and shouldered your weight for a bit, and then helped me upstairs with you.” Abbie slightly chuckled at that. “Then once I had gotten rid of the officer I undressed you and washed your wounds.”

“But I was completely naked.” Jack couldn’t understand how she was so calm. He thought their friendship was gone completely. In fact, since he couldn’t remember, he had hoped he had not forced her.

“Do you honestly think I was letting those filthy clothes anywhere near my duvet? You were bleeding and rolling around in the muddy gutter. How else could I clean them?”

“You were next to me, in the bed. You said that ever since Harry, you would never share a bed with anyone unless you loved them.” Jack did not want to lose her friendship, but he had to be sure he had not ruined it. “I don’t want you to have made a mistake, especially with me. I love you too much.”

“Gah! You can be so dense at times Jack Harkness!” She pivoted on her heel and faced him squarely. She put her hands on either side of his face and made him look at her. “You probably did not look. I had pyjamas on in bed. I do not have that much furniture, plus, your breathing was really bad. I laid down next to you so I could watch over you and I must have fallen asleep. For that I am sorry.” Her thumbs traced his cheekbones. “It’s not like you could have had your way with me in the condition you were in. I am glad you seem much better.”

Jack reached up and gently gripped her wrists, pulling them down. He stood there holding both her hands together. “I am sorry I jumped to conclusions. I should have known if I had tried anything with you, I might be missing a body part or two.”

“And don’t you forget it.” She let out a sigh. “You had me worried when I woke up and you were gone. You were in bad shape, you even stopped breathing once and then before I could properly do anything you started gasping for air and were fine again. I don’t want to lose you, Jack. I can’t lose you, it would change me.”

“I don’t plan on leaving anytime soon. It's not like I can,” Jack said. “I’m sorry I worried you.”

“Next time, if you think you made a mistake, face up to it. What’s the worst that can happen? You get slapped again, and again, and again-“

“I get it,” Jack said. He pulled her hands up to his lips and kissed Abbie’s fingertips. “Do you forgive me?”

“I do,” Abbie replied. She pulled her hands away, putting them on Jack’s shoulders. She pulled herself up and kissed him chastely on the lips. “Now, I should get back upstairs, it’s bloody freezing down here, and I promised I would help Janelle with some research.”

“Go. Don’t catch your death of cold on my account,” Jack stated.

“Dinner? Tonight? I might be able to ration up some coffee.” Abbie smiled at him.

“Perhaps,” Jack said. “If I don’t make any more mistakes.”

“I’ll let you know if you do,” Abbie said and took off for the stairs, giving him a little wave as she left.

Jack rubbed a hand across his unmarked chest. He hadn’t made the error he had thought he did with Abbie, but he had made another. At some point he found he loved Abbie, but to what extent?

He rolled up the sleeves on his shirt, showing off unbruised arms. It was suddenly very warm in the cold lower levels of the Hub. Jack let out a sigh and returned to the last file he had brought down with him. Weevils. They were new enough, but Torchwood was getting enough cases on them, Jack decided to catalogue them on the third level for easier access. He switched off the light and relished being able to hide in the darkness a moment longer.

fic, abigail richardson, jack harkness, lost archives

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