Torchwood - fic - Will You Walk Into My Parlor?, Jack, Suzie, Gwen, PG-13
You may have read some of this before, but I’m posting it as a proper story, now.
Series - Then I Would Have My Own Bordellos
Title - Will You Walk Into My Parlor?
Author - laurab1
Characters - Jack, Suzie, Gwen
Rating - PG-13 aka 12, AU
Length - 1000 words
Summary - How Gwen became part of Tempus Fugit
Disclaimer - alas, none of these people are mine
Feedback is loved and appreciated :) Enjoy!
Will You Walk Into My Parlor?
by Laura
“They were mine, Miss Costello,” Gwen heard Captain Harkness say, as she arrived at the water tower on the Plass. Torchwood. She’d battled through the drugs she’d been given, and the sketch of that nasty-looking knife had triggered what she’d been told to forget.
“They were mine, they were beautiful, and you murdered them.” He had that really old revolver of his aimed at the woman he was addressing. He was clearly angry, and trying not to fire, just yet.
“Oh my God, who is that, Yvonne?” she’d asked, once, a couple of years ago.
Her colleague had sighed in an incredibly long-suffering manner. “Captain Jack Harkness, Gwen. He’s been drinking whisky with the DCI once a month, ever since I started at the station. He’s run that Tempus Fugit place on the bay for years.”
Everyone in Cardiff knew what went on at Tempus Fugit, but mostly ignored it. After all, it wasn’t like the place was unique, was it?
“For God’s sake, no-one was going to miss them, they were prostitutes,” Suzie Costello, the woman who’d drugged her replied, scorn dripping from her voice, also wielding a gun.
They would be missed, people always were. And, for better or for worse, these people had been identifiable as Jack’s; little enamel brooches or necklaces, bearing a stylised egg-timer in a hexagon.
“So are you, Captain. You sure that’s better than Torchwood?”
“Oh, yeah,” he said, grinning. It wasn’t pleasant, though. “I’ve been sure of that for a very long time, Suzie, my dear.”
Gwen then watched Captain Jack Harkness kill Suzie Costello with a marksman’s, no, a soldier’s skill and ease. She put a hand over her mouth, trying to minimise the scream that was desperate to escape.
It wasn’t particularly effective, though.
“PC Cooper?” he said, in her direction.
Busted. Bloody Hell. She’d only given him her name the once, when she’d delivered coffee and biscuits to his meeting with the DCI, during the murder investigation. But he’d remembered her. Of course he bloody had. Well, she’d remembered his gun, and she’d only seen that once, too. Sighing, Gwen wandered out of the darkness, and towards him. “Captain Harkness?”
“Give me a hand with the body, please?” Jack asked, with half a smile.
She gave him half a smile back, and picked up the feet. They deposited Suzie on a specific paving slab, and dusted off their hands.
“Right. Let ‘em deal with their own damn mess. Again. You got a problem with people selling sex, Gwen Cooper?” he then asked, not quite out of the blue.
Gwen had to think for a minute. Did she? Really? “No,” she replied, finally, shaking her head. “Not at all. Well, I mean, it can’t be the best job.” Judging by what had just happened. “But it must be better than nothing at all, yeah?”
“Yeah,” the captain said, nodding. “Believe me, honey, it is. He smiled his not-smile again, and Gwen was reminded of very old poem:
"Will you walk into my parlor?" said the Spider to the Fly
She knew she was caught in Jack's web. She didn't think she wanted out of it, though.
“I need a drink,” she then half-heard. “You coming with me?”
She shook herself out of the moment, as awareness of what Jack had just done filtered into her brain. He’d shot someone, in freezing cold blood. And she was a copper. “I should be arresting you for murder, Captain Jack Harkness!” Gwen blurted.
He took her by the shoulders, and looked her in the eye. “You should be coming to Tempus Fugit, Gwen Cooper, and seeing the people that smart brain of yours helped save. C’mon.”
The arm he then slung around her was warm, so, despite herself, she went.
***
They arrived at Jack’s establishment, and he took her inside, led her down the main corridor. Gwen was confronted by women in corsets, women in pasties, fishnets and heels and suits, men in corsets, men in suits.
But she was a copper, and you saw all sorts of things as a copper. Sometimes, they were bloody weird things. This, though…
“Beautiful, huh, PC Cooper?” he whispered to her, as they walked.
Gwen nodded. Yes.
***
Gwen looked at Jack, across his desk, and decided she needed to get inside, here. The existing system the police had, whatever the bloody hell it was, and however bloody long it had been in place, quite clearly wasn’t working. “Two of your people were just murdered, Jack,” she told him.
He simply shrugged it off, saying, “Nothing new. We’ve always had murders.” His voice changed, becoming harder, as he added, “And I’ve always fixed the situation.”
“On your own?” she asked, concerned. His determined expression took her aback.
“Yeah. Usually. Amazing what you can achieve by just waving a gun about, Gwen Cooper. And, y’know, there are always more people who want to give others a helluva good time.”
Gwen nodded, vaguely. She was rather distracted by the smirk on Jack’s lips.
“Y’know, they send a WPC round occasionally, ‘cause a lot of people tend to talk to women more easily, but the police have mostly just let us be, Gwen, since 1904.”
1904? Had he been running this place for more than one hundred years? “Maybe that should change, Captain. Maybe someone should come round on a regular basis.”
“You offering, PC Cooper?” he asked, an eyebrow raised.
“Yes,” she said, before her brain got the better of her.
He folded his arms, leaned back, and looked at her. “And what would you hope to achieve?”
“Just making sure everyone’s OK, that’s all.” What else?
That got her a proper smile, and a short laugh. “We could certainly do with a dose of compassion around here, and I’m not gonna object to another cute face. Welcome aboard the good ship Tempus Fugit, PC Gwen Cooper.”
And then her brain got the better of her. Oh, Bloody Hell, she thought, wondering just what she’d committed herself to.
-end-
The Best Little Shoes in Cardiff follows this.
Series - Then I Would Have My Own Bordellos
Title - Will You Walk Into My Parlor?
Author - laurab1
Characters - Jack, Suzie, Gwen
Rating - PG-13 aka 12, AU
Length - 1000 words
Summary - How Gwen became part of Tempus Fugit
Disclaimer - alas, none of these people are mine
Feedback is loved and appreciated :) Enjoy!
Will You Walk Into My Parlor?
by Laura
“They were mine, Miss Costello,” Gwen heard Captain Harkness say, as she arrived at the water tower on the Plass. Torchwood. She’d battled through the drugs she’d been given, and the sketch of that nasty-looking knife had triggered what she’d been told to forget.
“They were mine, they were beautiful, and you murdered them.” He had that really old revolver of his aimed at the woman he was addressing. He was clearly angry, and trying not to fire, just yet.
“Oh my God, who is that, Yvonne?” she’d asked, once, a couple of years ago.
Her colleague had sighed in an incredibly long-suffering manner. “Captain Jack Harkness, Gwen. He’s been drinking whisky with the DCI once a month, ever since I started at the station. He’s run that Tempus Fugit place on the bay for years.”
Everyone in Cardiff knew what went on at Tempus Fugit, but mostly ignored it. After all, it wasn’t like the place was unique, was it?
“For God’s sake, no-one was going to miss them, they were prostitutes,” Suzie Costello, the woman who’d drugged her replied, scorn dripping from her voice, also wielding a gun.
They would be missed, people always were. And, for better or for worse, these people had been identifiable as Jack’s; little enamel brooches or necklaces, bearing a stylised egg-timer in a hexagon.
“So are you, Captain. You sure that’s better than Torchwood?”
“Oh, yeah,” he said, grinning. It wasn’t pleasant, though. “I’ve been sure of that for a very long time, Suzie, my dear.”
Gwen then watched Captain Jack Harkness kill Suzie Costello with a marksman’s, no, a soldier’s skill and ease. She put a hand over her mouth, trying to minimise the scream that was desperate to escape.
It wasn’t particularly effective, though.
“PC Cooper?” he said, in her direction.
Busted. Bloody Hell. She’d only given him her name the once, when she’d delivered coffee and biscuits to his meeting with the DCI, during the murder investigation. But he’d remembered her. Of course he bloody had. Well, she’d remembered his gun, and she’d only seen that once, too. Sighing, Gwen wandered out of the darkness, and towards him. “Captain Harkness?”
“Give me a hand with the body, please?” Jack asked, with half a smile.
She gave him half a smile back, and picked up the feet. They deposited Suzie on a specific paving slab, and dusted off their hands.
“Right. Let ‘em deal with their own damn mess. Again. You got a problem with people selling sex, Gwen Cooper?” he then asked, not quite out of the blue.
Gwen had to think for a minute. Did she? Really? “No,” she replied, finally, shaking her head. “Not at all. Well, I mean, it can’t be the best job.” Judging by what had just happened. “But it must be better than nothing at all, yeah?”
“Yeah,” the captain said, nodding. “Believe me, honey, it is. He smiled his not-smile again, and Gwen was reminded of very old poem:
"Will you walk into my parlor?" said the Spider to the Fly
She knew she was caught in Jack's web. She didn't think she wanted out of it, though.
“I need a drink,” she then half-heard. “You coming with me?”
She shook herself out of the moment, as awareness of what Jack had just done filtered into her brain. He’d shot someone, in freezing cold blood. And she was a copper. “I should be arresting you for murder, Captain Jack Harkness!” Gwen blurted.
He took her by the shoulders, and looked her in the eye. “You should be coming to Tempus Fugit, Gwen Cooper, and seeing the people that smart brain of yours helped save. C’mon.”
The arm he then slung around her was warm, so, despite herself, she went.
***
They arrived at Jack’s establishment, and he took her inside, led her down the main corridor. Gwen was confronted by women in corsets, women in pasties, fishnets and heels and suits, men in corsets, men in suits.
But she was a copper, and you saw all sorts of things as a copper. Sometimes, they were bloody weird things. This, though…
“Beautiful, huh, PC Cooper?” he whispered to her, as they walked.
Gwen nodded. Yes.
***
Gwen looked at Jack, across his desk, and decided she needed to get inside, here. The existing system the police had, whatever the bloody hell it was, and however bloody long it had been in place, quite clearly wasn’t working. “Two of your people were just murdered, Jack,” she told him.
He simply shrugged it off, saying, “Nothing new. We’ve always had murders.” His voice changed, becoming harder, as he added, “And I’ve always fixed the situation.”
“On your own?” she asked, concerned. His determined expression took her aback.
“Yeah. Usually. Amazing what you can achieve by just waving a gun about, Gwen Cooper. And, y’know, there are always more people who want to give others a helluva good time.”
Gwen nodded, vaguely. She was rather distracted by the smirk on Jack’s lips.
“Y’know, they send a WPC round occasionally, ‘cause a lot of people tend to talk to women more easily, but the police have mostly just let us be, Gwen, since 1904.”
1904? Had he been running this place for more than one hundred years? “Maybe that should change, Captain. Maybe someone should come round on a regular basis.”
“You offering, PC Cooper?” he asked, an eyebrow raised.
“Yes,” she said, before her brain got the better of her.
He folded his arms, leaned back, and looked at her. “And what would you hope to achieve?”
“Just making sure everyone’s OK, that’s all.” What else?
That got her a proper smile, and a short laugh. “We could certainly do with a dose of compassion around here, and I’m not gonna object to another cute face. Welcome aboard the good ship Tempus Fugit, PC Gwen Cooper.”
And then her brain got the better of her. Oh, Bloody Hell, she thought, wondering just what she’d committed herself to.
-end-
The Best Little Shoes in Cardiff follows this.