Captain Jack Harkness (
quitehomoerotic) wrote2009-04-24 01:52 am
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Entry tags:
RP for
mrsharker
It's early evening and in the half light the Bay has a comfortable quiet. Jack sent the team off to have a little social time. They've all worked so hard lately and they could do with it. He went for a walk, somewhere with a high roof and a vantage point for him to look over the city.
He's back on his way home now, taking a slow stroll down Lloyd George Avenue and back towards Butetown and the Bay. Outside the Millennium centre are couples and people milling around, all preparing for an evening of entertainment. It makes Jack smile as he seems them all, all safe in this city he loves so much.
On his way across the Plass he takes a slight de-tour to one of the poster boards, to take a look at just what these people are waiting to see. The sight before him though is not one he expects, and one he's far from prepared for.
The face is familiar, oh so familiar, and his breath gets caught in his chest, taking him a moment or two to realise he isn't breathing at all.
"It can't be," he whispers, but there's nobody there to listen.
Jack's eyes are swimming and he's glued to the spot. This can't be right, he's sure this can't be right. Just an odd co-incidence. Someone who happens to look similar. It has to be. It can't be her.
But it doesn't hurt to make sure. So instead of back to the Hub, Jack heads into the Millennium center and with the aid of the word 'Torchwood', he goes backstage.
He's back on his way home now, taking a slow stroll down Lloyd George Avenue and back towards Butetown and the Bay. Outside the Millennium centre are couples and people milling around, all preparing for an evening of entertainment. It makes Jack smile as he seems them all, all safe in this city he loves so much.
On his way across the Plass he takes a slight de-tour to one of the poster boards, to take a look at just what these people are waiting to see. The sight before him though is not one he expects, and one he's far from prepared for.
The face is familiar, oh so familiar, and his breath gets caught in his chest, taking him a moment or two to realise he isn't breathing at all.
"It can't be," he whispers, but there's nobody there to listen.
Jack's eyes are swimming and he's glued to the spot. This can't be right, he's sure this can't be right. Just an odd co-incidence. Someone who happens to look similar. It has to be. It can't be her.
But it doesn't hurt to make sure. So instead of back to the Hub, Jack heads into the Millennium center and with the aid of the word 'Torchwood', he goes backstage.
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She goes into his arms, a little more centered in herself but still completely alert to his heartbeat, to the smell of his blood drying on his hand.
"Oh," she says, "it is rather a pretty hotel room, isn't it?"
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He shakes his head and then whispers to himself, barely audible. "In fact, I'd probably quite like it." He drifts for a moment, his focus seemingly gone before he pulls himself from his reverie.
"Hmm?" He asks, highlighting his distance. "Yeah it's great. Lovely little place."
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"Ah. I was..." he clears his throat. "Thinking about if you did... you know."
"Sorry."
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He's a grey area. Perhaps the only grey area in her black-and-white world. She won't feed because of the surrender of it, and moreso because she doesn't trust herself to stop, doesn't trust herself not to kill... but he claims he can't die...
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"Yes." He whispers. Admitting something he long ago kept secret.
Over his lifetime Jack has experienced many different kinds of pleasure. Some taboo, some unexplainable, some simply just unspeakable. But often his main crux is that he just simply can't and won't refuse. Too eager to experience.
"I'd like it better if it was you."
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She can hear his pulse racing, taunting her, and even in the face of his blatant request, she has the strength to hesitate. (It's heartening, or, rather, it will be later when she has the sense to think on it.)
"What if I hurt you?"
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"You could never hurt me. Not you."
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"Maybe it's inevitable for people like us."
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"Life is nothing without pain. Without death. I need that to remember I'm alive. I guess you could say that's pretty messed up."
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"The Buddhists would argue that all life is suffering... and even though we don't die, those around us do. Those we care for. There is still loss. So much loss..."
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"That's a pain I could live without. I've seen enough people I love die. Seen enough of them ebb away while I just sit and watch. It never gets easier. It never will."
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His eyes seem to pierce her as he stares at her. Burning inside to feel her, to kiss her, to share things once again with her. Such a kindred spirit, more than he could have ever imagined.
"So what happens now?"
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"Now?" Mina echoes, misunderstanding him a little, perhaps. "We do what we can with what we have. We let love and pain ebb and flow in our lives like the ocean, bringing us people who will make us richer in their presence and wiser but sadder when they're no longer with us. We keep fighting, because it's very grounding to have something bigger than ourselves to focus on..."
She trails off for a moment, taking his hand and kissing the back of it tenderly. "And we keep in touch, because it's dizzying to have someone who understands."
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His mind is still stuck in the moment though, and eager to make her understand, a hand reaches to her cheek and holds it firmly. "No." His word is firm. "What happens now. Here."
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And then he kisses her.
He kisses her as he's been wanting to all night. It's not the sort of kiss Jack usually gives, not these days at least. It's chaste even with its heat. It harkens back to a man he used to be. A man he was with her.
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She keeps her eyes open which she never used to do because she doesn't want to miss a thing. And it's a very good kiss.
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His heart beats faster still. It seems it's had quite the workout tonight. "I love you," he whispers against her lips, when the kiss comes to a natural end. It's electrifying to say words he's usually to scared to allow.
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She peppers little kisses along his jaw until reaching his ear, nips briefly at the lobe and demands softly, "What are you holding back? I can feel you're hiding something from me, Jack."
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So how to proceed? The truth seems the only option. He'd have likely said it anyway in time.
"I'm... I'm sort of seeing someone, Mina. Have been for a while now."
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"I see."
The woman in her wants to pull away. To get up and fold her arms across her chest and demand that he leave. The demon in her wants to finally sink fangs into his throat and leave a visible mark on him, let that 'someone' deal with that. Caught between the two, she simply releases his wrists and clasps her hands in her lap.
"Someone you work with," she surmises. "Which was why you didn't want to show me your office."
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"It's complicated." He tries to explain. "They don't know everything about me. There's a lot I hide from them. For their own good. We're not... I'm not in a relationship. It's more just..." he trails off, laughs. "I don't actually know what it is. I don't really get close to people any more, Mina. I've lost too many people. I can't bare to lose you a second time."
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"My life is in London; I don't plan to relocate here so you needn't worry about me disturbing your... menage."
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