Series 1 RP for twmagdalena

[quitehomoerotic]

A rare evening alone and Jack should have known things would never go to plan. He told the team to go home, to have dinner, go to the pub, whatever it is normal people do with their evenings. But he hadn't bargained for the six Weevils that appeared in Cathays park

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[twmagdalena]

The only reason she'd come back was that she'd left her wallet in the drawer of her desk. Rhys had said it was no big deal, leave it, get it tomorrow, but she'd heard (and given) one too many don't drive without your license lectures. "I'll be in and out," she'd promised, "I'll meet you and Banana down the pub

[quitehomoerotic]

Jack was used to being alone when he faced things like this. He always had been, it was normal. That was unless he was having it scrutinised. Torchwood liked to do that for a long time, they never really did give up trying to find out how and why it worked. It was no wonder he hid it at the first opportunity he got.

He didn't expect anyone to be there. He'd arrived in silence and it still seemed silent now. Silent that was until he heard the echo of footsteps and the shadow of Gwen enter his vision.

He felt caught off guard and he straightened his back a little. "Hi," he nodded and looked down for a moment at his clasped hands before gazing back up towards her. "I thought you were out with Rhys."

[twmagdalena]

"I forgot my wallet," she told him, walking into the room, into the light. He'd not invited her in, in fact his body language seemed designed to preserve distance, but she came in anyway -- again, she'd gone in before and checked his pulse... oh, and was that his blood on her cuff? Probably -- and came all the way around to his side of the desk.

"Left it in my desk." Her voice was still a whisper, and she set her cup down on the desk before reaching out to touch his cheek. To reassure herself he was warm and alive again. Her small hand, warm from cradling her mug of tea, cupping his face gently.

"You alright?"

[quitehomoerotic]

It was almost jarring to be seen in this situation after keeping it well hidden for so long. But nowhere as jarring as having her gentle reaction to it. Her human and caring reaction.

He breathed out and glanced up at her. Her hand was warm and it felt nice against his skin.

"I'm fine," he nodded, short and succinct. "Just a scratch." He almost laughed at that, the irony in it. In a way it wasn't a lie; that was all that was left now, after all. Just a scratch.

"You should get gone. Rhys'll be worried."