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m_findlowTitle: First impressions
Fandom: Torchwood
Author: m_findlow
Rating: M (language)
Word Count: 800 words
Characters/Pairings: Jack, Gwen, Rex Matheson
Author notes: Written for Challenge #015 - Supercilious at![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
vocab_drabbles
Summary: Rex isn’t making a good first impression on Team Torchwood.
‘Sit the hell down, Britpop,’ Rex commanded, shoving Gwen unceremoniously into the plane seat.
‘What, no first class for us?’ she joked, even if her face said she was feeling anything but humoured.
‘Don't make me gag you as well,’ Rex warned. ‘I’m not putting up with your crap for the next nine hours. And you,’ he said, directing his attention to Jack in the seat next to her. ‘Any funny business and I'll shoot you.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Jack replied through gritted teeth.
Gwen waited until the CIA agent was out of earshot before speaking again. ‘I tell you if I wasn’t handcuffed I’d tear that man’s scrotum apart with my fingernails and see if he can hit a note higher than Anwen’s angry cry.’ Jack smiled and chuckled silently until Gwen’s angry face turned on him. ‘I don’t know what you think is so funny about all of this, Jack Harkness! I’d be bloody mad at you except that Rex is a far bigger prick than you are right now.’
Gwen’s chastisement had the intended effect on him. ‘You're right. Matheson is trouble for us. Big trouble.’
‘Oh, you think?’
‘Seriously. He’s cocky, full of himself, thinks he has all the facts… Which he doesn’t.’
‘Oh, remind you of anyone?’ Gwen teased, unable to resist. If their situation wasn’t so dire she might have enjoyed watching Jack go toe to toe with this American arsehole. Instead she was cuffed on a plane, headed out of the country, far away from her husband and daughter.
He looked askance at her and she could see a change in his face, or maybe it was just the eyes. Older, sadder, full of loss and regret. Perhaps she shouldn't have been so harsh on him. She sighed, reaching across her lap to rest her hands over his and give them a squeeze. ‘Why is it that you always bring chaos with you wherever you go?’
‘I came back to make sure you were safe.’
‘I suppose the Apache helicopter loaded with rocket grenades outside my house was a bit of a giveaway.’ She didn’t like to admit it had broken up a rather dull and boring day of feeding her one year old and pruning the roses. Jack Harkness never did things by halves.
‘If they’d simply knocked on the door and pointed a nine millimetre gun at you you'd have been disappointed, Jack replied, voicing agreement with her own assessment of life as it had been.
‘Probably. I wanted to get Anwen one of those little purse handguns for her birthday next month and Rhys said no, can you believe it?’ she joked.
‘Hey! You two,’ Rex said, marching back down the aisle.
Gwen rolled her eyes at him. ‘What?’
‘This ain’t a joyride.’
Gwen looked around in mock surprise. ‘Really?’
Rex struggled not to be baited by her sarcasm. ‘I see what this is, you two catching up like it's the old times mother’s club. You have any idea how much serious shit you’re in?’
‘Not so serious that our own government has a problem with it,’ Gwen sniped back.
‘Since when do the Americans care about Torchwood?’ Jack asked.
Rex snorted. ‘As if you don't know.’ He gave Jack the up and down look. ‘And what's with the get up? You look like an extra off some World War Two flick.’
‘And you look like a guy who just rolled out of a car crash,’ Jack replied nodding towards Rex's chest, where a patch of blood was beginning to seep through the thin blue shirt.
‘Goddamn it.’ Rex snapped his fingers at the flight attendant. ‘You got some bandages round here?’
‘We have a basic first aid kit on board, sir.’
‘So, how about you go get it rather than wasting my time telling me about it, huh?’ He rolled his eyes as the young woman left to fetch it. ‘Honestly, how do you Brits ever get anything done when you spend all day explaining shit instead of just doing it?’
‘It's called manners,’ Jack replied. ‘You might try it sometime.’
‘Whatever,’ Rex said, snatching the kit from the flight attendant as she held it out for him, spilling some of the contents on the floor as he clumsily unzipped it, before ripping open the largest gauze package and shoving it down inside his shirt collar.
‘Going to live?’ Gwen enquired.
Rex scowled at them. ‘Shut the hell up, and make sure you and your boyfriend here get your stories straight before we get to LA. You’ll save me a shitload of paperwork.’
Jack leaned over and whispered in her ear. ‘Just how sharp are those fingernails, Gwen?’
Gwen kept her glare locked on Rex as he collapsed into a seat a few rows in front of them. ‘Sharp enough.’
Fandom: Torchwood
Author: m_findlow
Rating: M (language)
Word Count: 800 words
Characters/Pairings: Jack, Gwen, Rex Matheson
Author notes: Written for Challenge #015 - Supercilious at
vocab_drabbles Summary: Rex isn’t making a good first impression on Team Torchwood.
‘Sit the hell down, Britpop,’ Rex commanded, shoving Gwen unceremoniously into the plane seat.
‘What, no first class for us?’ she joked, even if her face said she was feeling anything but humoured.
‘Don't make me gag you as well,’ Rex warned. ‘I’m not putting up with your crap for the next nine hours. And you,’ he said, directing his attention to Jack in the seat next to her. ‘Any funny business and I'll shoot you.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Jack replied through gritted teeth.
Gwen waited until the CIA agent was out of earshot before speaking again. ‘I tell you if I wasn’t handcuffed I’d tear that man’s scrotum apart with my fingernails and see if he can hit a note higher than Anwen’s angry cry.’ Jack smiled and chuckled silently until Gwen’s angry face turned on him. ‘I don’t know what you think is so funny about all of this, Jack Harkness! I’d be bloody mad at you except that Rex is a far bigger prick than you are right now.’
Gwen’s chastisement had the intended effect on him. ‘You're right. Matheson is trouble for us. Big trouble.’
‘Oh, you think?’
‘Seriously. He’s cocky, full of himself, thinks he has all the facts… Which he doesn’t.’
‘Oh, remind you of anyone?’ Gwen teased, unable to resist. If their situation wasn’t so dire she might have enjoyed watching Jack go toe to toe with this American arsehole. Instead she was cuffed on a plane, headed out of the country, far away from her husband and daughter.
He looked askance at her and she could see a change in his face, or maybe it was just the eyes. Older, sadder, full of loss and regret. Perhaps she shouldn't have been so harsh on him. She sighed, reaching across her lap to rest her hands over his and give them a squeeze. ‘Why is it that you always bring chaos with you wherever you go?’
‘I came back to make sure you were safe.’
‘I suppose the Apache helicopter loaded with rocket grenades outside my house was a bit of a giveaway.’ She didn’t like to admit it had broken up a rather dull and boring day of feeding her one year old and pruning the roses. Jack Harkness never did things by halves.
‘If they’d simply knocked on the door and pointed a nine millimetre gun at you you'd have been disappointed, Jack replied, voicing agreement with her own assessment of life as it had been.
‘Probably. I wanted to get Anwen one of those little purse handguns for her birthday next month and Rhys said no, can you believe it?’ she joked.
‘Hey! You two,’ Rex said, marching back down the aisle.
Gwen rolled her eyes at him. ‘What?’
‘This ain’t a joyride.’
Gwen looked around in mock surprise. ‘Really?’
Rex struggled not to be baited by her sarcasm. ‘I see what this is, you two catching up like it's the old times mother’s club. You have any idea how much serious shit you’re in?’
‘Not so serious that our own government has a problem with it,’ Gwen sniped back.
‘Since when do the Americans care about Torchwood?’ Jack asked.
Rex snorted. ‘As if you don't know.’ He gave Jack the up and down look. ‘And what's with the get up? You look like an extra off some World War Two flick.’
‘And you look like a guy who just rolled out of a car crash,’ Jack replied nodding towards Rex's chest, where a patch of blood was beginning to seep through the thin blue shirt.
‘Goddamn it.’ Rex snapped his fingers at the flight attendant. ‘You got some bandages round here?’
‘We have a basic first aid kit on board, sir.’
‘So, how about you go get it rather than wasting my time telling me about it, huh?’ He rolled his eyes as the young woman left to fetch it. ‘Honestly, how do you Brits ever get anything done when you spend all day explaining shit instead of just doing it?’
‘It's called manners,’ Jack replied. ‘You might try it sometime.’
‘Whatever,’ Rex said, snatching the kit from the flight attendant as she held it out for him, spilling some of the contents on the floor as he clumsily unzipped it, before ripping open the largest gauze package and shoving it down inside his shirt collar.
‘Going to live?’ Gwen enquired.
Rex scowled at them. ‘Shut the hell up, and make sure you and your boyfriend here get your stories straight before we get to LA. You’ll save me a shitload of paperwork.’
Jack leaned over and whispered in her ear. ‘Just how sharp are those fingernails, Gwen?’
Gwen kept her glare locked on Rex as he collapsed into a seat a few rows in front of them. ‘Sharp enough.’
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Date: 2024-04-30 06:52 pm (UTC)