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A Morning Surprise; The Boardroom; Tosh & Adam
Topic Started: Sep 3 2009, 04:58 AM (393 Views)
Toshiko Sato
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Time Lord
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Tosh had always thought it was nice, being in the morning after a bay trawl. There were new things to look at, which always excited her, and it was nice to deal with alien artifacts rather than the aliens themselves: Tosh had never had much luck with them. It was pleasantly quiet too, with the others all either out on cleanup duty or, in the case of Ianto and Owen, busy elsewhere. In fact, Tosh tried not to think about Owen: the experience with the Rift-coral had gone some way to calming them all, but she was still hurt and angry. Otherwise things were going well; she was feeling healthy again for the first time in weeks, the Rift was relatively quiet, and if that state of affairs continued then it could only be so long before her and Andy managed to get that coffee...

She smiled, pulling her thoughts back to the box which sat innocently on the table in front of her. It was beautiful: intricately carved, slightly warm to the touch. It was things like this that made her job worthwhile and Tosh was enjoying taking her time exploring it, noting down each reading from the scanner, searching for a purpose or a meaning to it. She was in no rush, not expecting any surprises, and when she finally worked out how to open it--though she wasn't entirely sure what she had done which caused that: was it the way she touched it? The cool of her hands after holding her can of Diet Coke? Her mental state?--she leaned a little closer, looking inside.

Water. That was all, no other mysteries. Perhaps it was only a pretty container, she thought: the water was most likely from the Bay, and was hardly surprising. She ran the scanner over the surface of the liquid more for show than anything else, but the report came back positive: genuine terrestrial H2O.

Tosh smiled. She would keep looking, but she doubted that there was any tech here: it seemed innocent enough. And she was more glad for that than she would have admitted. She didn't like the process necessary for alien life forms: the capture, the examination, the incarceration or worse. It was nice to find something simple.

She slipped her hand into the box, the water cool over her fingers as she felt about the wood for grooves, catches or holes.
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Adam Smith
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[ * ]
There shouldn't be consciousness in the void.

So it developed after.

The box wasn't sealed as tightly as they thought, and slowly, things creeped through. Images, perceptions, ideas.

It began to think.

But that had all been abstract, nearly 'instinct,' if there was such a thing, but this --


There was someone here.

It reached out.
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Toshiko Sato
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[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
It didn't feel as if there was anything interesting in the box, but Tosh was nothing if not thorough. She drew her hand away, brushing her damp fingertips over the hip of her skirt before she reached for the scanner. Internal measurements first, and then--

She stopped, suddenly looking back at the box. Surely not...? But yes, definitely: there was less water inside than before.

"Oh, no..." Tosh said under her breath, reaching to rescue her papers from about it. To her surprise, however, they were dry: in fact, the box didn't seem to be leaking at all.

Tosh put her papers down and frowned at it. When nothing happened she reached forward again, taking the box gently in her hands and holding it up, turning it about as she looked at it intently. The water smelt very faintly of something she couldn't trace, or perhaps that was the box itself. It still looked innocent, though; her scanner wasn't picking up any of the common signs of life. Tosh was glad for that: she knew what Torchwood did to aliens.

Holding the box carefully in one hand Tosh touched the water again, feeling nothing strange.
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Adam Smith
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[ * ]
A beautiful blonde human woman, the memory all tangled up with glimpses of translucent blue limbs, of a glow — a moment frozen in time of a dark-haired man standing with her, holding something out, something metal, something that in hindsight looks like a trap — an ache of loss worse than the pain of betrayal, a man’s voice: “the centre of the sun,” an idea of burning and that beautiful body — beautiful bodies — gone. Behind that, showing through spots worn with much remembering, other times: snarling snapping creatures caught in sewers, cornered in warehouses, shot in after-dark streets. Many-limbed omnivores killed, dissected, recorded. A furry creature locked in a cell—a Delfan lying critically wounded on a doctor’s table. Remembered human writing: “if it’s alien, it’s ours.”

He wasn't strong enough yet to do more than watch, but oh, what there was to see. Such a vibrant world -- so many colors, and emotions. So much conflict.

This one. This one was so full of conflict. He reached closer, looking for more, looking at the world through her.
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Toshiko Sato
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[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Within a few moments, Tosh was entirely sure: the water was moving, ebbing away somewhere. But where? She could only hope there wasn't some kind of intradimensional wormhole at the bottom of it. Though actually, perhaps that wouldn't be all bad: if she was in a different universe then she wouldn't have to speak to Owen later, and that would be a blessing.

Tosh frowned, pushing the thought away. She'd cross that bridge when she came to it; for now there was the box, the slow seep of water to... somewhere. Laying it back down on the table she crouched in front of it so that it was on her eyelevel, peering close.

Curiouser and curiouser.
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Adam Smith
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[ * ]
A man’s face, all at once surrounded in a flurry of hurt so bad it takes her breath away, all caught up in something else—a bone-aching yearning to reach out to him, to help him, an awareness of exactly how far he is. “What the hell do you mean, Tosh,” and the burning of tears in her eyes and the urge to hit him—to hit him again, to hug him. (And there, deeper beneath: standing in a kitchen with a blond-haired man, the sound of his heartbeat and—another memory, dovetailing neatly—the feel of his lips and—another, darker thread—two other men’s faces, some arrangement of the three of them which her mind skirts with practised deftness.)

Oh, it was gorgeous. He could nearly touch the emotions, they were so palpable. And the ache, the tear -- he could just reach out and --

"Hello, Tosh."
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Toshiko Sato
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[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
The water was almost gone; Tosh dipped her fingers inside again, feeling the wetness of it over her skin. Where was it going? Maybe there was some kind of rip in spacetime. The thought made her both excited and nervous: after the Valiant she'd had quite enough of observing the effects of a baby Rift, thank you very much.

She was about to reach for her scanner when, very suddenly, there was a voice beside her.

"Hello, Tosh."

It didn't sound like Owen or Ianto, but Tosh was distracted enough that she didn't notice. "Look at this," she began, "it's--" and then, in turning her head sideways to whoever he was she saw that he wasn't anyone who should have been there.

In an office of more than seven, Tosh might have not reacted as she did: as it was the nature of the work made a complete stranger in the office terrifying. What was more, a stranger who knew her name. (A little voice in her brain added: Mary knew, too.)

Tosh straightened up and took a sharp step backwards. Distracted by the sudden realization that her earpiece was on the table, closer to the stranger than herself, she didn't think of the chair behind her: she hit it hard, tripping and landing flat on her back, her forearm hitting the edge of the table hard as she fell, her elbows striking the floor. She didn't feel it, though: she could only think of the earpiece, and hope that Ianto or Owen were somewhere nearby, or that the others were back.

Pushing herself up onto her elbows Tosh quickly shuffled a few feet back, trying to stand and move away at once.

"Who are you? Where did you come from? I'm not alone down here," she added, even though it was as good as a lie. She knew how soundproof the door was.
Edited by Toshiko Sato, Sep 4 2009, 05:54 AM.
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Adam Smith
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[ * ]
Tosh scrambled away, and that was wrong. That hurt. "Who are you? Where did you come from? I'm not alone down here."

He leaned over her, studying her face. This body still felt strange, unformed. "It's just me," he said. "Adam." The name rose to his lips from the depths of -- somewhere. He liked it. It felt right.

Before she could protest he reached out and grabbed her hand. "I want you to remember me."

She knew him. He'd been on the team before her, showed her around when she first got in. He'd confessed to being impressed by the way she'd managed to outsmart UNIT, and it didn't take her long to notice that he was interested in more than just her brains. But she didn't wait for him to do something about it. Tosh wasn't the patient type.
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Toshiko Sato
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[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
The man leaned close over her, and Tosh froze. He wasn't wearing a uniform but he was trapping her in, bigger and taller. It was impossible to breathe.

"It's just me, Adam." He reached for her, catching her hand, his fingertips cool. "I want you to remember me."

For the briefest of seconds, Tosh reacted as only Tosh: synapses flared, bursts of panic spreading through grey matter, adrenaline flooding-- And then her hand went limp in his as she felt her head spin. After there were only memories.

She'd loved the way he'd looked at her, attempting subtle glances over files in the boardroom, catching his eyes on her arse when she turned to him. It had taken her a while to do anything about it, though--a few weeks of enjoying teasing him with flashes of skin and the strain of fabric over her breasts and arse. She'd caught him in the lift in the end, pressed him hard to the wall with a kiss before straightening her shirt and going calmly to the next briefing. Later, pausing in her doorstep, smiling at him: "so are you coming or not?" And his grin, and the way his skin looked on her sheets, and the softness of it between her teeth.

His head on her lap on the one properly sunny day Cardiff has had ever, and him dropping icecream over her dress and the grass. The crash and shatter of pans and plates and glasses as he pushed her back onto her kitchen counter, his hands pushing up her skirt, her hands tugging at his hair. Dinner with her parents in London: "
what a charming young man," her mother said, and Tosh agreed. Chinese takeaway eaten from the cartons on her couch as they laughed about something stupid one of the others had done. The sound of his breathing when he's handcuffed to his headboard, and the way that sometimes she wakes up and he's watching her.

Tosh's hand turned, her fingers moving to grip Adam's, and she smiled.

"If I get any clumsier around alien tech Jack will end up firing me."
Edited by Toshiko Sato, Sep 4 2009, 04:38 PM.
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Adam Smith
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[ * ]
He smiled back, the curve finally feeling natural. "I don't think he'd do that." He helped her up, hand still in his grip. His other hand reached up to cup her jaw. "He'd hate to lose such a valuable ...asset." He kissed her hungrily.

"Should probably check on the others," he said finally as he pulled away.
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Toshiko Sato
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Time Lord
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Tosh moved up easily, not bothering to take a step back from Adam. It was a quiet day after all, and he was wearing those jeans that she loved, and after all the overtime they'd been pulling the universe more than owed them some time alone... She slipped her hand into his back pocket as they kissed, giving his arse a squeeze. God, she wanted--

Adam pulled back, as usual: he was always the one who cared more about working hours. Not that that was saying much.

"Should probably check on the others."

Tosh made a noise of distaste, raising slightly on her tiptoes to press another open-mouthed kiss to his lips before stepping back. "Right. I guess we should let Owen know that the box has absolutely nothing exciting to share. But," she added, "I'm dealing with you later, Mr Smith."

She gave him a spank as she passed.

OOC: Saucy Tosh is totally saucy. Ready to move onto Owen?
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Adam Smith
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[ * ]
Adam grinned, and headed down to the Archives.
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