This is what Jack Harkness can’t resist: a person who has the brilliance and the brass to discover and penetrate the Torchwood Institute. In this case, she is a hot and sexy police constable. He has had some time to think about what to do with her. Some of his favorite parts will be what he has always done:
1. Watch her on CCTV as she prowls around Roald Dahl Plass until she thinks up a con to get inside; 2. Play along with her ruse as she gapes stunned at the palace under the pavement; 3. Act preoccupied when she shrieks at the realization that the giant flying thing inside the Hub is a pterodactyl; 4. Feign humility as she can’t decide what is more captivating Torchwood’s fantastic technology or his very own charisma--so great it can be seen from space. 5. Introduce her to whatever is the most bizarre, living, breathing evidence of life on other planets pacing in one of their basement cells and wait for her reaction. 6. Take her out for a drink to help her defuse from the shock of it all, retcon her, and then the part he likes least, ditch her.
It was moving along just like clockwork: she was so adorable pacing outside in the rain. Then they all had a laugh as Ianto played his role. Gwen’s courage momentarily faltering as Ianto opened the false wall and mysteriously nodded her in. Next, all of them pretending to ignore her as she gaped at the Hub, clutching a soggy pizza.
For each of them, this particular species was always the most exciting to bring in to the Hub. A human. A human, who up until this moment was innocent of the lonely struggle with the universe they were in--and unburdened by the weight of all they knew. They all extended this contact as long as they could. Trying to vicariously get back to that place when it was all new. Back to that particular garden in which they once basked sans snake—or in this case, sans brain-eating snakeman just in from the Hespress Galaxy for a quick bite.
Upon first seeing Gwen, Jack had especially looked forward to the drinks they would share before goodbye—hers he would regretfully “medicate” for the good of Torchwood and for her own.
But this time protocol went all to hell somewhere between numbers 5 and 6. Her reaction to the weevil was markedly different than any he had witnessed. There was no horror, no perverse fascination, or defensive jokes. Her heart was wide open to this alien. She seemed to see right into the creature, to meet it on some essential level. Sitting in front of the cell, Gwen got very quiet and emotionally raw; Jack’s reaction was identical, not to the weevil, but to her.
She possessed the moment like no one ever had, and Jack felt something entirely unfamiliar. It took a minute to even recognize what he was feeling. Admiration. And when she challenged Torchwood’s responsibility to survivors, to informing or warning the people of the Earth, he began to even feel envy. So, when he walked her out to the SUV fully intending to drive to a pub, those cogs in his head were racing without his full volition. Instead of opening the passenger door, he opened the backseat door, offering a half-cocked pretence.
“You should really see some of the tech we have back here.”
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Torchwood, Jack/Gwen--Part One
Date: 2009-05-16 02:49 pm (UTC)1. Watch her on CCTV as she prowls around Roald Dahl Plass until she thinks up a con to get inside;
2. Play along with her ruse as she gapes stunned at the palace under the pavement;
3. Act preoccupied when she shrieks at the realization that the giant flying thing inside the Hub is a pterodactyl;
4. Feign humility as she can’t decide what is more captivating Torchwood’s fantastic technology or his very own charisma--so great it can be seen from space.
5. Introduce her to whatever is the most bizarre, living, breathing evidence of life on other planets pacing in one of their basement cells and wait for her reaction.
6. Take her out for a drink to help her defuse from the shock of it all, retcon her, and then the part he likes least, ditch her.
It was moving along just like clockwork: she was so adorable pacing outside in the rain. Then they all had a laugh as Ianto played his role. Gwen’s courage momentarily faltering as Ianto opened the false wall and mysteriously nodded her in. Next, all of them pretending to ignore her as she gaped at the Hub, clutching a soggy pizza.
For each of them, this particular species was always the most exciting to bring in to the Hub. A human. A human, who up until this moment was innocent of the lonely struggle with the universe they were in--and unburdened by the weight of all they knew. They all extended this contact as long as they could. Trying to vicariously get back to that place when it was all new. Back to that particular garden in which they once basked sans snake—or in this case, sans brain-eating snakeman just in from the Hespress Galaxy for a quick bite.
Upon first seeing Gwen, Jack had especially looked forward to the drinks they would share before goodbye—hers he would regretfully “medicate” for the good of Torchwood and for her own.
But this time protocol went all to hell somewhere between numbers 5 and 6. Her reaction to the weevil was markedly different than any he had witnessed. There was no horror, no perverse fascination, or defensive jokes. Her heart was wide open to this alien. She seemed to see right into the creature, to meet it on some essential level. Sitting in front of the cell, Gwen got very quiet and emotionally raw; Jack’s reaction was identical, not to the weevil, but to her.
She possessed the moment like no one ever had, and Jack felt something entirely unfamiliar. It took a minute to even recognize what he was feeling. Admiration. And when she challenged Torchwood’s responsibility to survivors, to informing or warning the people of the Earth, he began to even feel envy.
So, when he walked her out to the SUV fully intending to drive to a pub, those cogs in his head were racing without his full volition. Instead of opening the passenger door, he opened the backseat door, offering a half-cocked pretence.
“You should really see some of the tech we have back here.”