Fic - Love and War - 11/?
Title: Love and War
Rating: K+
Pairing: JackGwen
Summary: Whilst Gwen is in an emotional crisis, war threatens both Torchwood and the world, and Gwen must put her feelings aside as she and Jack travel to Paris for a world conference. Why are the weevils so restless? What's the Louvre got to do with the rift? And who the hell is Jack Harkness really?
Author's Notes: Please R & R
11/?
Next chapter up!
xx
They started to walk immediately. Seeing as there was no time like the present, (and there was the small fact that weevils were clearly trying to take over the world and were teeming out of the rift, and therefore to avoid worldwide destruction they needed to get back to their bases and protect their nations), it seemed a sensible thing to do. Robert led the way, followed by Jack, and then came Marie with Gwen bringing up the rear. Marie was still crying silently, and Gwen was trying to console her, rubbing her shoulder and squeezing her hand. There was a sort of unspoken rule that they shouldn’t talk, and so it was only a long time later, when they came to a crossroads in the tunnel, and Jack and Robert were discussing which route to take, that Gwen was able to talk to her friend.
“Marie, I’m sorry.” She whispered, reaching forward for her arm. Marie turned round to her, tears streaming down her pretty face, and allowed herself to be enveloped in Gwen’s arms. “It’s OK.” Gwen soothed, hugging her tightly. “It’s fine to grieve.”
“You must see a lot of this.” Marie said, sniffing as she tried to wipe her eyes and get rid of the stains of the running mascara.
Gwen shook her head, watching her sadly. “Maybe I do, but it doesn’t make me any less hurt when I see it happen again.”
Marie nodded, sniffing again and looked up at Gwen. “What should I do now, though? I have no home, nowhere to go…”
“There’ll always be a place for you to stay with me. For now, you must stay with us. I’m afraid you’re caught up in events.”
Marie smiled. “Yes, I suppose I am. I wonder what father would have thought if he knew I was where I am now?”
“I’m sure he would be very proud, Marie.”
The French girl smiled. “I hope so.” She muttered, squeezing Gwen’s hand.
“Aha! This way!” Jack shouted from in front, where he was crouched on the ground, fiddling with his watch. He pointed to the tunnel going right, and letting Robert lead the way, followed him down the dark tunnel, the girls right behind.
Much later they decided they must stop. According to their watches, it was getting late, and they were all nearly asleep on their feet. They found a little covert a few hundred yards away, which was filled with a shallow dirty puddle. Sighing, Jack took off his coat, and put it down on the ground over the offensive puddle. Prodding it to see if the water soaked through, he announced happily that it was ok, and so they all scrambled in, sitting down along the back wall and making themselves comfy. They took off their coats and spread them over their knees.
Hunched up, Gwen quickly found herself falling asleep, despite the hardness of the wall and the cold of the tunnel. Jack, however, could not sleep, thinking about what was happening outside in the world. Suddenly his eyes glinted in the dark as he felt the soft pressure of Gwen’s head falling onto his shoulder, her black hair tickling his cheek. He smiled softly as he shifted himself to make the angle of her head more comfy for her, and brushed her hair away from her face. Looking down at her, he felt a rush of love for the woman who he had embroiled in all this, and it was then and there, in that wet tunnel under the sea, that he decided he would get her back home if it was the last thing he did.
Gwen woke the next morning with a crick in her neck, despite Jack’s attempts to make it more comfy for her, to the sound of a beeping watch. Realising she was leaning on Jack she sat up abruptly, resulting in the pain in her neck shooting through her body and making her wince in pain. Frowning, she rubbed her neck as she watched the others get up, shaking themselves. Jack seemed to be the only one who was bright eyed and bushy tailed, as the saying goes, despite not having slept a wink throughout the whole night. However, his good mood was soon destroyed when he saw the state of his coat when everyone got up. He picked up the sopping item of clothing, and looking at it distastefully, shrugged it onto his shoulders with a black expression on his previously clear face.
They started off immediately, Robert estimating that they were at least half way there and that they would be in England some time early that afternoon. Smiling at the bizarreness of it all, Gwen took up her position at the back and they set off. Feeling something bumping against her hip in her coat pocket, Gwen reached into it and brought out her black mobile phone. Turning it on, she smiled as she saw she had no signal. “Funny that”, she thought sarcastically, as she put it back, a grin on her face.
The monotonous walking was finally brought to an end, as much later, just when Gwen was cursing her stomach for rumbling for the fiftieth time that day, Robert shouted out. “I think we’ve got there.” He cried out, rushing forwards.
The tunnel seemed to come to an end just ahead, and the wall was very wet here, water running down the bricks in a streak. A rusted ladder was attached to the wall, and luckily when Robert tested it, it seemed to hold fast. Jack lead the way here, the torch gripped between his teeth as he began to climb. Gwen followed him, eager to see the light again.
They climbed, and climbed, and climbed, the rust cutting their hands and rubbing off into their raw palms. The dark was now becoming oppressive and stuffy, more than ever making them want to get out into the light. As they got higher, they heard a rushing noise, which sounded like gallons of water bounding through the other side of the wall. They stopped for a moment, and Jack confirmed after consulting with his watch that they were near sewers.
“Which means civilization!” He announced happily, starting to climb once again. Buoyed up with the hope of freedom at last, they began to talk as they worked their way up the ladder.
“Do you think the weevils will be everywhere when we get out?” Gwen asked, gritting her teeth as she pushed herself up a few more rungs, her hands hurting as much as her tired head.
Her reply came from above her. “I don’t know what they’ll be doing if they’re not. If they burst through the rift in Paris, they would have done so around the world all at the same time.”
“Then how are we going to get back to Cardiff?”
“You don’t.” This time, the reply came from below her. Robert’s voice was strained, as if his back was hurting just as much as Gwen’s. “I suggest you all come to my house. It’s not far from Kensington Gardens. Well,” he added, “presuming that this really does come out in Kensington Gardens. But still, we’ll go to my house, and from there we can plot where to go next. We need to find refuge for a little while at least, and the weevils won’t be able to get into us. The house was built by my ancestor, in the Victorian Age, shortly after Torchwood was first set up. He was one of the ministers appointed in it. The house is surrounded by a 10 inch layer of impenetrable steel, and has every single defence that could possible be hostile to aliens.” He laughed shallowly. “It seems he was never one to promote liaisons with creatures he didn’t understand.”
“Sounds like a good idea.” Jack replied. “I could do with a nice bath, warm clothes and something to eat.”
“Please don’t make me think of food, Jack.” Gwen pleaded, her stomach rumbling once more.
Suddenly they were plunged into darkness and they heard Jack swear loudly.
“What is it Jack?”
“The bloody torch’s lost its battery.”
xxx
Finally, thankfully, a little while later came the most glorious sound in the world: a head hitting a roof. Through the swears and cries of pain, they gathered Jack had banged his head on the ceiling. Finally, he stopped swearing long enough to cry “Ladies and gentleman, I believe we have arrived at our destination.”
“Open the door!” All three cried, longing for light. However, it proved to be quite a difficult business to open a ceiling when you have no idea if there is an opening, what the opening may be, and how to open it.
After running his hands around it, Jack decided there definitely was a circular metal hatch, but there appeared to be no handle or way of opening it. However, after putting his hands on either side of it and pushing, they caught sight of light around the edge of it, and heard traffic.
“Oh, thank God.” Gwen cried, hitting Jack’s ankle gently as she ushered him on to push it higher.
What they did not realize, was that out in the outside world, a drain cover was mysteriously being raised up. To those sitting around outside a little café by Kensington Gardens, calmly drinking tea and eating hot buttered scones with jam, it was very strange indeed.
But no way near as strange as what happened the next moment, when the drain cover lifted up completely and was thrown aside, clanging on the pathway, as a tall dark haired man in a navy blue coat clambered out, dirty and with blood splattered on his wet shirt. Blinking in the light, Jack looked around him, grinned, wiped his hands on the sides of his trousers and announced “Lovely day”, as he reached down and pulled Gwen out of the tunnel. When two more people appeared out of the tunnel, the people sitting in the café gaped wordlessly at them. Even the cook had come out of the kitchens when he heard the cries and murmurs and was watching in shock, a tea towel hanging limply from his hand.
Brushing themselves down, the four looked around delightedly. However, something struck them as strange - where were the screaming people? Where were the destroyed buildings, the bodies, the blood? Where were the weevils?
“They’re not here.” Robert muttered, a frown appearing on his face. “Come on, my home’s not far away.” Smiling at the onlookers, he replaced the drain cover and set off round the corner, Marie following.
Gwen waited for Jack as he grinned at the people outside the café, and shrugging his shoulders said confidentially “Drainage problems”, then “Are you going to eat that?” to a man holding a scone dripping with butter, and when he got no reply, took the scone, and sinking his teeth into it, waved to them as he followed Robert off. Smiling and shaking her head at Jack, Gwen set off by his side, leaving the people in the café frozen with shock.
xxx
A/N As usual, if you please :D
Rating: K+
Pairing: JackGwen
Summary: Whilst Gwen is in an emotional crisis, war threatens both Torchwood and the world, and Gwen must put her feelings aside as she and Jack travel to Paris for a world conference. Why are the weevils so restless? What's the Louvre got to do with the rift? And who the hell is Jack Harkness really?
Author's Notes: Please R & R
11/?
Next chapter up!
xx
They started to walk immediately. Seeing as there was no time like the present, (and there was the small fact that weevils were clearly trying to take over the world and were teeming out of the rift, and therefore to avoid worldwide destruction they needed to get back to their bases and protect their nations), it seemed a sensible thing to do. Robert led the way, followed by Jack, and then came Marie with Gwen bringing up the rear. Marie was still crying silently, and Gwen was trying to console her, rubbing her shoulder and squeezing her hand. There was a sort of unspoken rule that they shouldn’t talk, and so it was only a long time later, when they came to a crossroads in the tunnel, and Jack and Robert were discussing which route to take, that Gwen was able to talk to her friend.
“Marie, I’m sorry.” She whispered, reaching forward for her arm. Marie turned round to her, tears streaming down her pretty face, and allowed herself to be enveloped in Gwen’s arms. “It’s OK.” Gwen soothed, hugging her tightly. “It’s fine to grieve.”
“You must see a lot of this.” Marie said, sniffing as she tried to wipe her eyes and get rid of the stains of the running mascara.
Gwen shook her head, watching her sadly. “Maybe I do, but it doesn’t make me any less hurt when I see it happen again.”
Marie nodded, sniffing again and looked up at Gwen. “What should I do now, though? I have no home, nowhere to go…”
“There’ll always be a place for you to stay with me. For now, you must stay with us. I’m afraid you’re caught up in events.”
Marie smiled. “Yes, I suppose I am. I wonder what father would have thought if he knew I was where I am now?”
“I’m sure he would be very proud, Marie.”
The French girl smiled. “I hope so.” She muttered, squeezing Gwen’s hand.
“Aha! This way!” Jack shouted from in front, where he was crouched on the ground, fiddling with his watch. He pointed to the tunnel going right, and letting Robert lead the way, followed him down the dark tunnel, the girls right behind.
Much later they decided they must stop. According to their watches, it was getting late, and they were all nearly asleep on their feet. They found a little covert a few hundred yards away, which was filled with a shallow dirty puddle. Sighing, Jack took off his coat, and put it down on the ground over the offensive puddle. Prodding it to see if the water soaked through, he announced happily that it was ok, and so they all scrambled in, sitting down along the back wall and making themselves comfy. They took off their coats and spread them over their knees.
Hunched up, Gwen quickly found herself falling asleep, despite the hardness of the wall and the cold of the tunnel. Jack, however, could not sleep, thinking about what was happening outside in the world. Suddenly his eyes glinted in the dark as he felt the soft pressure of Gwen’s head falling onto his shoulder, her black hair tickling his cheek. He smiled softly as he shifted himself to make the angle of her head more comfy for her, and brushed her hair away from her face. Looking down at her, he felt a rush of love for the woman who he had embroiled in all this, and it was then and there, in that wet tunnel under the sea, that he decided he would get her back home if it was the last thing he did.
Gwen woke the next morning with a crick in her neck, despite Jack’s attempts to make it more comfy for her, to the sound of a beeping watch. Realising she was leaning on Jack she sat up abruptly, resulting in the pain in her neck shooting through her body and making her wince in pain. Frowning, she rubbed her neck as she watched the others get up, shaking themselves. Jack seemed to be the only one who was bright eyed and bushy tailed, as the saying goes, despite not having slept a wink throughout the whole night. However, his good mood was soon destroyed when he saw the state of his coat when everyone got up. He picked up the sopping item of clothing, and looking at it distastefully, shrugged it onto his shoulders with a black expression on his previously clear face.
They started off immediately, Robert estimating that they were at least half way there and that they would be in England some time early that afternoon. Smiling at the bizarreness of it all, Gwen took up her position at the back and they set off. Feeling something bumping against her hip in her coat pocket, Gwen reached into it and brought out her black mobile phone. Turning it on, she smiled as she saw she had no signal. “Funny that”, she thought sarcastically, as she put it back, a grin on her face.
The monotonous walking was finally brought to an end, as much later, just when Gwen was cursing her stomach for rumbling for the fiftieth time that day, Robert shouted out. “I think we’ve got there.” He cried out, rushing forwards.
The tunnel seemed to come to an end just ahead, and the wall was very wet here, water running down the bricks in a streak. A rusted ladder was attached to the wall, and luckily when Robert tested it, it seemed to hold fast. Jack lead the way here, the torch gripped between his teeth as he began to climb. Gwen followed him, eager to see the light again.
They climbed, and climbed, and climbed, the rust cutting their hands and rubbing off into their raw palms. The dark was now becoming oppressive and stuffy, more than ever making them want to get out into the light. As they got higher, they heard a rushing noise, which sounded like gallons of water bounding through the other side of the wall. They stopped for a moment, and Jack confirmed after consulting with his watch that they were near sewers.
“Which means civilization!” He announced happily, starting to climb once again. Buoyed up with the hope of freedom at last, they began to talk as they worked their way up the ladder.
“Do you think the weevils will be everywhere when we get out?” Gwen asked, gritting her teeth as she pushed herself up a few more rungs, her hands hurting as much as her tired head.
Her reply came from above her. “I don’t know what they’ll be doing if they’re not. If they burst through the rift in Paris, they would have done so around the world all at the same time.”
“Then how are we going to get back to Cardiff?”
“You don’t.” This time, the reply came from below her. Robert’s voice was strained, as if his back was hurting just as much as Gwen’s. “I suggest you all come to my house. It’s not far from Kensington Gardens. Well,” he added, “presuming that this really does come out in Kensington Gardens. But still, we’ll go to my house, and from there we can plot where to go next. We need to find refuge for a little while at least, and the weevils won’t be able to get into us. The house was built by my ancestor, in the Victorian Age, shortly after Torchwood was first set up. He was one of the ministers appointed in it. The house is surrounded by a 10 inch layer of impenetrable steel, and has every single defence that could possible be hostile to aliens.” He laughed shallowly. “It seems he was never one to promote liaisons with creatures he didn’t understand.”
“Sounds like a good idea.” Jack replied. “I could do with a nice bath, warm clothes and something to eat.”
“Please don’t make me think of food, Jack.” Gwen pleaded, her stomach rumbling once more.
Suddenly they were plunged into darkness and they heard Jack swear loudly.
“What is it Jack?”
“The bloody torch’s lost its battery.”
xxx
Finally, thankfully, a little while later came the most glorious sound in the world: a head hitting a roof. Through the swears and cries of pain, they gathered Jack had banged his head on the ceiling. Finally, he stopped swearing long enough to cry “Ladies and gentleman, I believe we have arrived at our destination.”
“Open the door!” All three cried, longing for light. However, it proved to be quite a difficult business to open a ceiling when you have no idea if there is an opening, what the opening may be, and how to open it.
After running his hands around it, Jack decided there definitely was a circular metal hatch, but there appeared to be no handle or way of opening it. However, after putting his hands on either side of it and pushing, they caught sight of light around the edge of it, and heard traffic.
“Oh, thank God.” Gwen cried, hitting Jack’s ankle gently as she ushered him on to push it higher.
What they did not realize, was that out in the outside world, a drain cover was mysteriously being raised up. To those sitting around outside a little café by Kensington Gardens, calmly drinking tea and eating hot buttered scones with jam, it was very strange indeed.
But no way near as strange as what happened the next moment, when the drain cover lifted up completely and was thrown aside, clanging on the pathway, as a tall dark haired man in a navy blue coat clambered out, dirty and with blood splattered on his wet shirt. Blinking in the light, Jack looked around him, grinned, wiped his hands on the sides of his trousers and announced “Lovely day”, as he reached down and pulled Gwen out of the tunnel. When two more people appeared out of the tunnel, the people sitting in the café gaped wordlessly at them. Even the cook had come out of the kitchens when he heard the cries and murmurs and was watching in shock, a tea towel hanging limply from his hand.
Brushing themselves down, the four looked around delightedly. However, something struck them as strange - where were the screaming people? Where were the destroyed buildings, the bodies, the blood? Where were the weevils?
“They’re not here.” Robert muttered, a frown appearing on his face. “Come on, my home’s not far away.” Smiling at the onlookers, he replaced the drain cover and set off round the corner, Marie following.
Gwen waited for Jack as he grinned at the people outside the café, and shrugging his shoulders said confidentially “Drainage problems”, then “Are you going to eat that?” to a man holding a scone dripping with butter, and when he got no reply, took the scone, and sinking his teeth into it, waved to them as he followed Robert off. Smiling and shaking her head at Jack, Gwen set off by his side, leaving the people in the café frozen with shock.
xxx
A/N As usual, if you please :D