Cardiff Bay, 1990; rp with quitehomoerotic

[alicecarter]

She was aware of Jack Harkness. The way most people are aware of their Great Uncle Robert, or a genetic allergy to beet juice. She had memories of the man, even. A stray meeting here or there, and cards at birthdays or holidays. Nice cards -- the kind with foil embossed paper and no personal touches, like most kids got from their grandparents

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[quitehomoerotic]

In recent years Jack had become more comfortable with his position at Torchwood. He'd started to enjoy it, and openly so. He enjoyed spending time with his colleagues. He'd laugh and smile and always be the one with a quip or two. The one they could rely on to lower the tone. But still, as things stood, he was also the one they'd sent out when they needed a man who couldn't die

[alicecarter]

Alice, meanwhile, was busy raising a fuss. Tapping her foot, checking her watch, generally projecting the image of 'I am a busy and important woman, so let's get to it'.

That is, until, she got what she wanted. Jack Harkness, standing right in front of her. Looking exactly the same as he did that last time she'd seen him.

Alice's demeanor changed almost instantly. She looked surprised, a little unsure, and very much fifteen years old. Because for all of her grandstanding, she wasn't entirely sure that she'd actually expected to see him. She'd prepared herself for the possibility that he'd be off on a mission -- he had a lot of missions.

She let Jack lead her away from Torchwood, starring at him the entire time.

"So," she managed, when they were a safe distance away, "you really don't age."

[quitehomoerotic]

Jack wasn't prepared for this. A pack of Weevils or a hoard of Aliens from six Galaxies away and he was fine, but this, family, his daughter here in front of him, the daughter he'd tried so desperately too see and to be able to have a relationship with for the last fifteen years. This? He could never be prepared for.

He took a few more steps and said nothing, just exhaled heavily, laboured.

Instead of addressing her point, because what truly could he say to that? He chose to divert the subject.

"Does your Mother know you're here?" He was quite certain the answer was no.

[alicecarter]

"It's nice to see you too," Alice said, though not with any real bite. She was a little distracted, staring at his hairline to see if it had receded at all.

She didn't think it had.

Shaking her head clear, Alice started to root around in her backpack, pulling out a folder and an excuse that sounded very practiced.

"I told her I was working on a school project. Which I am. I have a few questions I need to ask you for this history project."