August 02 - After Death
Title: After Death
Author: Koohii Cafe
Rating: FR13
Crossover: BtVS/Torchwood
Disclaimer: Since I am a poor chickadee with no wealth to speak of, I think it's safe to say that neither BtVS nor Torchwood are mine. ^^;
Written for: TtH August Fic A Day Challenge
Summary: "Do you realize what the chances are of resuscitation succeeding after ten minutes? Almost zero. For every minute you wait before beginning resuscitation, the chance for success goes down by seven to ten percent. And after four minutes, brain damage begins to set in."
Author's Notes: Set post Buffy series, pre Torchwood series.
~*~*~*~*~
"Buffy." A single word, just her name, but it made her freeze all the same, the tone that steely-commandy-no-nonsense one that even she didn't argue with. The one that Buffy was extremely glad that Giles had never had. Jack, though- Jack had it in spades. The blonde winced, halfway off the table, but she didn't push back up. Yet.
"Jack, I'm fine," she protested, but he was coming down the stairs into the medical bay anyway, his face resolute, and damn it, couldn't he have waited five more minutes before coming out here and catching her in the act of trying to escape? Of course, knowing him, he'd probably been watching the monitors from the camera feeds within the Hub itself, and had caught her that way. It'd be just like him.
"Fine?" the insufferable man echoed, an eyebrow arched higher than should be allowed. He hit the bottom of the stairs and, in the tiny space of the medical bay, was close enough to begin pushing her back up onto the table within seconds. She wanted to push back, to stand up and just escape, but she wasn't sure she wanted to see how he'd react if she did, and so instead let him do it. He didn't have that playful demeanor that usually surrounded him when he was dealing with his team, when he wasn't eyeballs deep in some crisis or another. No, he was serious, his lips pressed flat together in a no-holds-barred unhappy frown, his gaze heavy with something she couldn't quite figure out. "You died today."
'It's not the first time.' The words were on the tip of her tongue, ready to spill out, but she bit down on them firmly, sheer willpower keeping the thought contained. Instead, she answered, "And I repeat- I'm fine. Owen was right there to resuscitate me: I was only gone for twelve minutes and twenty-seven seconds, Ianto timed it. And see, this is me, Buffy, with no lingering badness or repercussions."
"Do you realize what the chances are of resuscitation succeeding after ten minutes?" She opened her mouth to respond, but he wasn't finished, not by a long shot. "Almost zero. For every minute you wait before beginning resuscitation, the chance for success goes down by seven to ten percent. And after four minutes, brain damage begins to set in. So the likelihood of you being 'just fine' after twelve minutes and twenty-seven seconds is non-existent."
"Yeah, well- Owen said all the test results turned out perfectly." Her voice was almost a pout, except that the look on Jack's face all but forbid it. And, there was the ever present thought, 'And I'm a Slayer, so normal rules don't really apply.' One she suppressed, because Torchwood had no clue of what she was, and she worked hard to keep it that way; Willow had erased the few records that had survived Sunnydale's destruction before she came to Torchwood, and Buffy herself had been extremely careful to only be human good for the past year since she'd joined. Of course, she'd known when she volunteered for the mission today that she was putting her cover in jeopardy, but she couldn't help it. The mission had called for clinical death for a brief period of time, so that Torchwood could communicate with an alien that occupied the bodies of the recently dead, and she was the best candidate for it. Her abilities as the Slayer made her the one who stood the best chance at being able to be brought back successfully, even if the rest of the team hadn't known it. That was why she'd stepped up, citing her relative youth and great physical condition as compared to the rest of the team as the reason she should go, and Owen had backed her.
"Owen also said you were to remain for observation overnight," Jack answered firmly, and Buffy still didn't understand that look, the way he was staring at her, the darkness in his gaze. What was going on?
"Jack, I-"
And then, before she could get another word out, there was suddenly lips, his hands on either side of her cheeks holding as he crashed their mouths together for a kiss so unexpectedly passionate that it stole her breath away. And, just as unexpectedly, instead of flailing as she would have thought she would, instead of shoving him back and demanding to know what the hell he thought he was doing- she was kissing him back, melting into his touch. And then far too soon- and not soon enough- he pulled back, their only contact through the hands still on her cheeks, and he looked her straight in the eye.
"Don't do that again."
Then he let her go, pushed her back gently into a laying position, turned, and walked away, back up the steps and toward his office. Buffy stayed where she was.
Author: Koohii Cafe
Rating: FR13
Crossover: BtVS/Torchwood
Disclaimer: Since I am a poor chickadee with no wealth to speak of, I think it's safe to say that neither BtVS nor Torchwood are mine. ^^;
Written for: TtH August Fic A Day Challenge
Summary: "Do you realize what the chances are of resuscitation succeeding after ten minutes? Almost zero. For every minute you wait before beginning resuscitation, the chance for success goes down by seven to ten percent. And after four minutes, brain damage begins to set in."
Author's Notes: Set post Buffy series, pre Torchwood series.
~*~*~*~*~
"Buffy." A single word, just her name, but it made her freeze all the same, the tone that steely-commandy-no-nonsense one that even she didn't argue with. The one that Buffy was extremely glad that Giles had never had. Jack, though- Jack had it in spades. The blonde winced, halfway off the table, but she didn't push back up. Yet.
"Jack, I'm fine," she protested, but he was coming down the stairs into the medical bay anyway, his face resolute, and damn it, couldn't he have waited five more minutes before coming out here and catching her in the act of trying to escape? Of course, knowing him, he'd probably been watching the monitors from the camera feeds within the Hub itself, and had caught her that way. It'd be just like him.
"Fine?" the insufferable man echoed, an eyebrow arched higher than should be allowed. He hit the bottom of the stairs and, in the tiny space of the medical bay, was close enough to begin pushing her back up onto the table within seconds. She wanted to push back, to stand up and just escape, but she wasn't sure she wanted to see how he'd react if she did, and so instead let him do it. He didn't have that playful demeanor that usually surrounded him when he was dealing with his team, when he wasn't eyeballs deep in some crisis or another. No, he was serious, his lips pressed flat together in a no-holds-barred unhappy frown, his gaze heavy with something she couldn't quite figure out. "You died today."
'It's not the first time.' The words were on the tip of her tongue, ready to spill out, but she bit down on them firmly, sheer willpower keeping the thought contained. Instead, she answered, "And I repeat- I'm fine. Owen was right there to resuscitate me: I was only gone for twelve minutes and twenty-seven seconds, Ianto timed it. And see, this is me, Buffy, with no lingering badness or repercussions."
"Do you realize what the chances are of resuscitation succeeding after ten minutes?" She opened her mouth to respond, but he wasn't finished, not by a long shot. "Almost zero. For every minute you wait before beginning resuscitation, the chance for success goes down by seven to ten percent. And after four minutes, brain damage begins to set in. So the likelihood of you being 'just fine' after twelve minutes and twenty-seven seconds is non-existent."
"Yeah, well- Owen said all the test results turned out perfectly." Her voice was almost a pout, except that the look on Jack's face all but forbid it. And, there was the ever present thought, 'And I'm a Slayer, so normal rules don't really apply.' One she suppressed, because Torchwood had no clue of what she was, and she worked hard to keep it that way; Willow had erased the few records that had survived Sunnydale's destruction before she came to Torchwood, and Buffy herself had been extremely careful to only be human good for the past year since she'd joined. Of course, she'd known when she volunteered for the mission today that she was putting her cover in jeopardy, but she couldn't help it. The mission had called for clinical death for a brief period of time, so that Torchwood could communicate with an alien that occupied the bodies of the recently dead, and she was the best candidate for it. Her abilities as the Slayer made her the one who stood the best chance at being able to be brought back successfully, even if the rest of the team hadn't known it. That was why she'd stepped up, citing her relative youth and great physical condition as compared to the rest of the team as the reason she should go, and Owen had backed her.
"Owen also said you were to remain for observation overnight," Jack answered firmly, and Buffy still didn't understand that look, the way he was staring at her, the darkness in his gaze. What was going on?
"Jack, I-"
And then, before she could get another word out, there was suddenly lips, his hands on either side of her cheeks holding as he crashed their mouths together for a kiss so unexpectedly passionate that it stole her breath away. And, just as unexpectedly, instead of flailing as she would have thought she would, instead of shoving him back and demanding to know what the hell he thought he was doing- she was kissing him back, melting into his touch. And then far too soon- and not soon enough- he pulled back, their only contact through the hands still on her cheeks, and he looked her straight in the eye.
"Don't do that again."
Then he let her go, pushed her back gently into a laying position, turned, and walked away, back up the steps and toward his office. Buffy stayed where she was.