Happy Birthday, lefaym!
Title: Nine Out of Ten
A Birthday Fic for lefaym . Happy Birthday! I hope you enjoy it.
Inspired by your post on the Bechdel Test and Doctor Who here.
Author:
used_songs
Invaluable beta by: redsnake05
Spoilers: Adrift, Exit Wounds
Rating: PG (language)
One
“What’s that?” Gwen asked curiously, peering over Tosh’s shoulder. As she did so, she scanned Tosh’s work station quickly for clues about her new teammate, looking for something she could use as a way to get to know the woman. No photos. No figurines. Nothing. But she had to have a life outside of work, something she and Gwen could connect with.
Tosh held the object up, turning it with her fingertips so that it caught the light from her computer screen. “The only record I could find calls it something like shadow maker.” She turned the device again slightly, letting one of its ominous obsidian planes fall into darkness. “It’s kind of poetic, isn’t it?” she added.
“Poetic,” Gwen repeated as she backed away a step and sidled over to the edge of Tosh’s desk. “What does it do?” she asked nervously.
“I’m not sure,” Tosh replied, a grave expression on her face.
Unsure whether she was being teased, Gwen looked from Tosh to the device, both of them still now and half in shadows, for a few moments and then shrugged and said, “Well, I’m going to go … uh … do that thing,” she gestured vaguely, “that I’m meant to be doing. OK?”
Tosh nodded briefly and went back to contemplating the device, the conversation seemingly already forgotten.
Gwen walked back toward her own area thoughtfully. She’d just assumed that she and Tosh would get on, two women together in the work place and all, but she couldn’t figure out what she had to offer the self-contained and obviously intelligent woman. And she couldn’t shake the feeling that Tosh was much better at holding people at arm’s length than she was at bringing them close to hand.
Two
“Why do you always do that?” Tosh couldn’t keep the irritation out of her voice though she was sorry she had spoken the minute the words left her mouth.
“You mean stand up for myself? I don’t know, Tosh. Why do you always defer to other people?”
“You don’t know anything about me,” Tosh said, crossing her arms defensively, her hands fisted and her nails digging into her palms.
“I know what I see. What else is there? You just follow orders. You never question whether what we’re doing is right,” Gwen said combatively.
“I know what we’re doing is right,” Tosh responded. “How can you still question after everything we’ve seen?”
Gwen gaped at her as Tosh continued, “We’re protecting the earth, and everyone on it. You’ve seen what comes out of that Rift, you’ve seen how fragile we are compared to the things out there in the universe that want to hurt us.” She stopped, a little surprised by her own vehemence. Then she added, in a quieter tone, “I follow orders because I don’t presume that I know better.”
Dirty blue light washed their faces, turning the heat of their words cold and making living skin look diseased. They stood still, frozen in the midst of the argument for a moment, and then Gwen took a deep, shaky breath, shifting her weight from foot to foot. Tosh noted her nervousness and felt vindicated. She felt no such lack of confidence in her own position.
Tosh considered walking away from the argument and going back to the analysis that was waiting for her on the computer. Instead, she tried one more time. “We’re a team. We can’t fight each other. There’s enough trouble for us all without conflict here. We have to work together.”
Gwen looked at her incredulously. “I know I haven’t been here as long as you, but do you really believe that?”
Tosh stared back stubbornly. “We can’t let anything keep us from doing the job. You’ll learn.” She turned back toward her computer, leaving the battleground to Gwen.
Three
“You know how I got here, how I joined up,” Gwen said, slurring her words slightly. “But what about you?”
Tosh looked around warily at the dank concrete walls that surrounded them and fought the urge to curl up in a corner. Glancing at Gwen she said, “You’re bleeding again.” She took off her jacket and ripped out a section of the lining.
“I am?” Gwen raised a hand to her hairline then brought it down and blinked at her fingers. “Shit! I am.”
With a flicker of worry, Tosh quickly folded the fabric into a thick pad, placed it against Gwen’s head, and said, “Hold this firmly, and the bleeding should stop.”
Gwen complied, leaning back against the wall. She said, “Are you going to tell me?”
There’s not much to tell,” Tosh deflected lightly. “I was recruited.”
“So not like me,” Gwen said dreamily. “I had to force my way in.” She smiled. “I always do things the hard way.”
Tosh laid tapped her fingers lightly against the hard concrete walls and then looked down. “I’ve done things the hard way too sometimes,” she said softly.
“It’s OK,” Gwen continued, seeming not to have heard her. “I’m used to it. That’s how I’ve gotten everything I’ve ever gotten. Forcing my way in … making people like me once I’m there.” She paused, her gaze sharpening. “You think it’s easy being a woman copper, even nowadays?” She shook her head abruptly then clutched her forehead. “Ow.”
Four
Tosh sighed, resting her chin on one upturned palm.
“I know,” Gwen replied, running her fingers through her hair. “I know.” She closed her eyes. “I thought for sure one of us was going to die today.”
Tosh shivered slightly and spread the fingers of her other hand over the flat surface of the table. “Me too.”
“Ever since Suzie,” Gwen continued after a moment, “I’ve been scared about what comes after we die. I never used to worry about it.”
Tosh looked up curiously. “What did she say? You never told us what you two talked about.”
Gwen took a deep breath, feeling her pulse beating in her temples, the aftereffect of all the adrenaline. “She said there was nothing.” She pressed her fingers against her forehead and rested her elbows on the conference table. “Just darkness and emptiness.”
Tosh started to say something and then stopped.
Gwen added, quietly, as if she were speaking to herself, “What am I supposed to do with that knowledge?”
Five
“So,” Gwen said, “did you know they were back to … doing what they were doing before?”
Tosh took off her glasses and laid them on the table and then picked up her coffee. “Why do you say it like that?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know what to call it,” Gwen shrugged with studied indifference. “Anyway, did you know?”
“I assumed. “ Tosh took a sip of her coffee and then carefully set the cup down. “I don’t think about it very much.”
“Do you think it’s a good idea?” Gwen persisted, a little frustrated by Tosh’s unwillingness to speculate. A little afraid that Tosh knew much more than she did and would never let her in.
Tosh looked out the window at the people walking by. “It’s none of my business.”
Gwen looked at her with disbelief and then lifted her cup and took a drink. She said, “I guess. I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”
Tosh watched as the first raindrops began to streak down the window pane and the shadow of the clouds darkened the glass. “We have to learn to be happy with what we have,” she said.
“I don’t agree,” replied Gwen. “I don’t agree at all.”
Six
“Keep moving!” Gwen shouted, pelting through the trees with one forearm raised to prevent the branches from springing back into her face. She heard Tosh crashing through the brush ahead and to the left, her footsteps stirring up the smell of damp earth. Behind her, seemingly right on her heels, a loud roar raked through the woods.
“Gwen?” Tosh’s voice came wavering back through the warm night air.
“Keep going! I’m right behind you!” Gwen grimly swerved through the trees in an attempt to delay the alien a bit longer, leading it in a wide curve for impossibly long moments, and then dashed for the faint flicker of light ahead. She was counting on Tosh beating her to the SUV and being ready when she broke through the trees and reached the road.
A high pitched whine spiraled through the air, forcing sharp fingers of headache through her eye sockets and out the back of her neck, and then there was a bass metallic crash, just as she crossed the lintel of the woods and hit the edge of the road. She ran past Tosh, her legs already giving way. As she fell to her knees, she twisted and saw the nightmare that had been chasing them.
And she saw Tosh, silhouetted in the moonlight, stepping forward and holding out a small metal tube toward the curtain of darkness that was pouring toward them in what looked like a placating gesture.
“That’s it?” she gasped.
Tosh made a tiny gesture with the tube and, as she did, the air around her shimmered and shook and the alien vanished, curling away into nothing.
Tosh looked down at the tube in her hand, her hair falling forward. She turned, a puzzled expression on her face. “I guess I had the setting too high,” she said plaintively.
Gwen laughed, standing up and brushing the dirt off her jeans. “That was amazing!” she said.
Tosh smiled. “It was, wasn’t it?”
Seven
Tosh handed Gwen a cup and Gwen took it gratefully, the steam rising in sketchy curls through the early morning air. Tosh sat next to her on the bench, grimacing as the cold soaked immediately through her clothes. She leaned back gingerly, growing gradually accustomed to the cold, the bench warming from her body heat.
Gwen smiled at her then took a long sip. They sat in silence, looking out over the gray water, each woman lost in her own thoughts.
Eight
Tosh slammed the door shut and turned to look at Gwen. Gwen grinned back and gunned the engine. “Ready?” Tosh nodded, fastening her seatbelt and adjusting her sweater.
They pulled out of the shadowy car park and onto the deserted street.
“Which way?”
Tosh consulted her handheld and said, “Left at the corner. The signal’s still moving but it’s slowed down.”
Gwen turned the wheel, enjoying the power she controlled. The SUV rolled silently through the empty streets, lights playing over its curved darkness.
“I’ve never thanked you, Tosh.”
Tosh looked over in surprise, her fingers stilling for a moment. “For what?”
“That missing person’s case. The way you helped me.” Gwen eased on the brake, taking a corner swiftly and smoothly, and then accelerated into the night.
Tosh shrugged and looked back down at the device in her hands.
Gwen smiled into the darkness and said, “I still don’t think Torchwood is always right.”
“I could tell,” replied Tosh.
“And you helped me,” Gwen said. “Thank you.” She watched Tosh’s reflection in the windshield, catching her eye and smiling.
Tosh returned the smile. “You’re welcome.”
Nine
“This,” Tosh said enthusiastically, “is the best curry I’ve ever had.”
Gwen smiled. “So you approve of the new place?”
Tosh, her mouth full, nodded and reached for more naan.
Ten
Gwen reached up and touched the dark gray drawer lightly. “I miss you. I know we were never close. We hardly ever talked about anything but work, but … I miss you.” Gwen stopped awkwardly, unsure what to say next but feeling it imperative that she say something.
“Tosh, I hope Suzie was wrong. Because you don’t deserve that.” She turned and leaned against the wall of drawer fronts. “I don’t think I can bear to believe that you’re somewhere in the dark all alone.” She brushed away a tear. “I’m gonna do this the hard way and believe, against all evidence, that you’re somewhere good and peaceful and that you’re happy.”
She pushed herself away from the drawer, unable to look back, and walked away.
A Birthday Fic for lefaym . Happy Birthday! I hope you enjoy it.
Inspired by your post on the Bechdel Test and Doctor Who here.
Author:
used_songs
Invaluable beta by: redsnake05
Spoilers: Adrift, Exit Wounds
Rating: PG (language)
One
“What’s that?” Gwen asked curiously, peering over Tosh’s shoulder. As she did so, she scanned Tosh’s work station quickly for clues about her new teammate, looking for something she could use as a way to get to know the woman. No photos. No figurines. Nothing. But she had to have a life outside of work, something she and Gwen could connect with.
Tosh held the object up, turning it with her fingertips so that it caught the light from her computer screen. “The only record I could find calls it something like shadow maker.” She turned the device again slightly, letting one of its ominous obsidian planes fall into darkness. “It’s kind of poetic, isn’t it?” she added.
“Poetic,” Gwen repeated as she backed away a step and sidled over to the edge of Tosh’s desk. “What does it do?” she asked nervously.
“I’m not sure,” Tosh replied, a grave expression on her face.
Unsure whether she was being teased, Gwen looked from Tosh to the device, both of them still now and half in shadows, for a few moments and then shrugged and said, “Well, I’m going to go … uh … do that thing,” she gestured vaguely, “that I’m meant to be doing. OK?”
Tosh nodded briefly and went back to contemplating the device, the conversation seemingly already forgotten.
Gwen walked back toward her own area thoughtfully. She’d just assumed that she and Tosh would get on, two women together in the work place and all, but she couldn’t figure out what she had to offer the self-contained and obviously intelligent woman. And she couldn’t shake the feeling that Tosh was much better at holding people at arm’s length than she was at bringing them close to hand.
Two
“Why do you always do that?” Tosh couldn’t keep the irritation out of her voice though she was sorry she had spoken the minute the words left her mouth.
“You mean stand up for myself? I don’t know, Tosh. Why do you always defer to other people?”
“You don’t know anything about me,” Tosh said, crossing her arms defensively, her hands fisted and her nails digging into her palms.
“I know what I see. What else is there? You just follow orders. You never question whether what we’re doing is right,” Gwen said combatively.
“I know what we’re doing is right,” Tosh responded. “How can you still question after everything we’ve seen?”
Gwen gaped at her as Tosh continued, “We’re protecting the earth, and everyone on it. You’ve seen what comes out of that Rift, you’ve seen how fragile we are compared to the things out there in the universe that want to hurt us.” She stopped, a little surprised by her own vehemence. Then she added, in a quieter tone, “I follow orders because I don’t presume that I know better.”
Dirty blue light washed their faces, turning the heat of their words cold and making living skin look diseased. They stood still, frozen in the midst of the argument for a moment, and then Gwen took a deep, shaky breath, shifting her weight from foot to foot. Tosh noted her nervousness and felt vindicated. She felt no such lack of confidence in her own position.
Tosh considered walking away from the argument and going back to the analysis that was waiting for her on the computer. Instead, she tried one more time. “We’re a team. We can’t fight each other. There’s enough trouble for us all without conflict here. We have to work together.”
Gwen looked at her incredulously. “I know I haven’t been here as long as you, but do you really believe that?”
Tosh stared back stubbornly. “We can’t let anything keep us from doing the job. You’ll learn.” She turned back toward her computer, leaving the battleground to Gwen.
Three
“You know how I got here, how I joined up,” Gwen said, slurring her words slightly. “But what about you?”
Tosh looked around warily at the dank concrete walls that surrounded them and fought the urge to curl up in a corner. Glancing at Gwen she said, “You’re bleeding again.” She took off her jacket and ripped out a section of the lining.
“I am?” Gwen raised a hand to her hairline then brought it down and blinked at her fingers. “Shit! I am.”
With a flicker of worry, Tosh quickly folded the fabric into a thick pad, placed it against Gwen’s head, and said, “Hold this firmly, and the bleeding should stop.”
Gwen complied, leaning back against the wall. She said, “Are you going to tell me?”
There’s not much to tell,” Tosh deflected lightly. “I was recruited.”
“So not like me,” Gwen said dreamily. “I had to force my way in.” She smiled. “I always do things the hard way.”
Tosh laid tapped her fingers lightly against the hard concrete walls and then looked down. “I’ve done things the hard way too sometimes,” she said softly.
“It’s OK,” Gwen continued, seeming not to have heard her. “I’m used to it. That’s how I’ve gotten everything I’ve ever gotten. Forcing my way in … making people like me once I’m there.” She paused, her gaze sharpening. “You think it’s easy being a woman copper, even nowadays?” She shook her head abruptly then clutched her forehead. “Ow.”
Four
Tosh sighed, resting her chin on one upturned palm.
“I know,” Gwen replied, running her fingers through her hair. “I know.” She closed her eyes. “I thought for sure one of us was going to die today.”
Tosh shivered slightly and spread the fingers of her other hand over the flat surface of the table. “Me too.”
“Ever since Suzie,” Gwen continued after a moment, “I’ve been scared about what comes after we die. I never used to worry about it.”
Tosh looked up curiously. “What did she say? You never told us what you two talked about.”
Gwen took a deep breath, feeling her pulse beating in her temples, the aftereffect of all the adrenaline. “She said there was nothing.” She pressed her fingers against her forehead and rested her elbows on the conference table. “Just darkness and emptiness.”
Tosh started to say something and then stopped.
Gwen added, quietly, as if she were speaking to herself, “What am I supposed to do with that knowledge?”
Five
“So,” Gwen said, “did you know they were back to … doing what they were doing before?”
Tosh took off her glasses and laid them on the table and then picked up her coffee. “Why do you say it like that?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know what to call it,” Gwen shrugged with studied indifference. “Anyway, did you know?”
“I assumed. “ Tosh took a sip of her coffee and then carefully set the cup down. “I don’t think about it very much.”
“Do you think it’s a good idea?” Gwen persisted, a little frustrated by Tosh’s unwillingness to speculate. A little afraid that Tosh knew much more than she did and would never let her in.
Tosh looked out the window at the people walking by. “It’s none of my business.”
Gwen looked at her with disbelief and then lifted her cup and took a drink. She said, “I guess. I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”
Tosh watched as the first raindrops began to streak down the window pane and the shadow of the clouds darkened the glass. “We have to learn to be happy with what we have,” she said.
“I don’t agree,” replied Gwen. “I don’t agree at all.”
Six
“Keep moving!” Gwen shouted, pelting through the trees with one forearm raised to prevent the branches from springing back into her face. She heard Tosh crashing through the brush ahead and to the left, her footsteps stirring up the smell of damp earth. Behind her, seemingly right on her heels, a loud roar raked through the woods.
“Gwen?” Tosh’s voice came wavering back through the warm night air.
“Keep going! I’m right behind you!” Gwen grimly swerved through the trees in an attempt to delay the alien a bit longer, leading it in a wide curve for impossibly long moments, and then dashed for the faint flicker of light ahead. She was counting on Tosh beating her to the SUV and being ready when she broke through the trees and reached the road.
A high pitched whine spiraled through the air, forcing sharp fingers of headache through her eye sockets and out the back of her neck, and then there was a bass metallic crash, just as she crossed the lintel of the woods and hit the edge of the road. She ran past Tosh, her legs already giving way. As she fell to her knees, she twisted and saw the nightmare that had been chasing them.
And she saw Tosh, silhouetted in the moonlight, stepping forward and holding out a small metal tube toward the curtain of darkness that was pouring toward them in what looked like a placating gesture.
“That’s it?” she gasped.
Tosh made a tiny gesture with the tube and, as she did, the air around her shimmered and shook and the alien vanished, curling away into nothing.
Tosh looked down at the tube in her hand, her hair falling forward. She turned, a puzzled expression on her face. “I guess I had the setting too high,” she said plaintively.
Gwen laughed, standing up and brushing the dirt off her jeans. “That was amazing!” she said.
Tosh smiled. “It was, wasn’t it?”
Seven
Tosh handed Gwen a cup and Gwen took it gratefully, the steam rising in sketchy curls through the early morning air. Tosh sat next to her on the bench, grimacing as the cold soaked immediately through her clothes. She leaned back gingerly, growing gradually accustomed to the cold, the bench warming from her body heat.
Gwen smiled at her then took a long sip. They sat in silence, looking out over the gray water, each woman lost in her own thoughts.
Eight
Tosh slammed the door shut and turned to look at Gwen. Gwen grinned back and gunned the engine. “Ready?” Tosh nodded, fastening her seatbelt and adjusting her sweater.
They pulled out of the shadowy car park and onto the deserted street.
“Which way?”
Tosh consulted her handheld and said, “Left at the corner. The signal’s still moving but it’s slowed down.”
Gwen turned the wheel, enjoying the power she controlled. The SUV rolled silently through the empty streets, lights playing over its curved darkness.
“I’ve never thanked you, Tosh.”
Tosh looked over in surprise, her fingers stilling for a moment. “For what?”
“That missing person’s case. The way you helped me.” Gwen eased on the brake, taking a corner swiftly and smoothly, and then accelerated into the night.
Tosh shrugged and looked back down at the device in her hands.
Gwen smiled into the darkness and said, “I still don’t think Torchwood is always right.”
“I could tell,” replied Tosh.
“And you helped me,” Gwen said. “Thank you.” She watched Tosh’s reflection in the windshield, catching her eye and smiling.
Tosh returned the smile. “You’re welcome.”
Nine
“This,” Tosh said enthusiastically, “is the best curry I’ve ever had.”
Gwen smiled. “So you approve of the new place?”
Tosh, her mouth full, nodded and reached for more naan.
Ten
Gwen reached up and touched the dark gray drawer lightly. “I miss you. I know we were never close. We hardly ever talked about anything but work, but … I miss you.” Gwen stopped awkwardly, unsure what to say next but feeling it imperative that she say something.
“Tosh, I hope Suzie was wrong. Because you don’t deserve that.” She turned and leaned against the wall of drawer fronts. “I don’t think I can bear to believe that you’re somewhere in the dark all alone.” She brushed away a tear. “I’m gonna do this the hard way and believe, against all evidence, that you’re somewhere good and peaceful and that you’re happy.”
She pushed herself away from the drawer, unable to look back, and walked away.