a warm glow of honeyed light drapes across the room, like a shield, blocking out the outside world. the cardiff weather is, as per usual, MISERABLE and dreary, but it feels muffled, in a manner - far away. there is nothing that can reach into the soft warmth of the hotel room to touch the couple within.
SKIN ON SKIN, smaller body tucked beneath the larger, palms and gentle fingertips exploring curves and lines well known to each other, lips pressed close time and again. two hearts, just a second out of sync, still slowing from the thrill of climax. for this moment, in this hotel room, reginaās world is perfect.
she had felt herself placing distance between them since the daleks had appeared in the sky - since sheād said those words that she had told herself would NEVER be given again. her anxious mind and heart continued to find reasons, tiny flickers of distrust and worry to cling to, to broaden the gap between them. so often, when she lay with the man who had enraptured her heart so completely, she could ALMOST SWEAR that his mind was with another. that at times when he spoke, when he touched her or held her close, she was not the person on his mind.
SHE TRUSTS HIM. jones, hero, defender of the earth. she TRUSTS him in a manner no other had been given. and for a short time, she had allowed that trust to wane, to give way to her own fears. it was when she had REALIZED this that she had planned this trip - four days, disconnected from anyone who might distract her, isolated from the outside world, with him. and only a few hours into that first night together, she feels a familiar peace and bliss settle over her. perhaps her fears ARE unfounded. how can she DOUBT him when he touches her as if she is made of stars, and he the night sky cradling her in his arms ?
it is the shrill ringing of a phone that shatters the illusion of perfection.
she feels it - the change in his body, the way he holds himself, how muscles tense and ripple beneath his skin. he is NO LONGER so soft and relaxed as they had been. their lips part - he leans over, hand extending to retrieve the device from the bedside table. phone off, sheād greeted him, not even a few hours before, i want it to be just us.
her disappointment is TANGIBLE, an ACHE in her chest all too familiar now, and for ONCE, she gives in to the urge to be selfish. her hand wraps around his, sliding the phone into her grasp as she pulls it away. a glance at the screen confirms what she already knows in the shadowed, most hidden places in her mind - bright letters in an order she had come most to FEAR.
Ā Ā ā donāt answer it.Ā ā
her voice is soft, breathless still from his touch as silver gaze meets that of deepest blue.Ā ā just us,Ā remember ? donāt answer it. ā the TENSION in his body is clear as he lays against her still ā and there is a decided changeĀ in the way he looks at her. sheās crossed a line by grabbing that phone, and YET ā she cannot help herself, and she pulls it away again when he reaches for it once more. ā JONES --Ā ā
Ā Ā ā scott.Ā ā the consonants of her name are suddenly TOO HARD as they leave his lips, almost as if bitten off by his teeth - she feels, suddenly, as though she is being scolded.Ā like a child.Ā like a selfish little girl.Ā it has been so longĀ since anyone has made her feel like this, and itĀ is enough to allow him to take it, the ringing still shrill in her ears as he rolls off of her, bringing his body into a sitting position.
Ā Ā ā tell them you canāt make it, ā she pleads, unwilling to surrender just yetĀ -- maybe he is answering,Ā but it is almost ridiculousĀ at this point to believe he would simply LEAVE HER.Ā she moves to face him,Ā shifting her weight onto her elbow, the sheets still tangled about her form as she pushes locks of blonde away from her face, expression imploring.Ā ā tell them they can do it without you, just this once.Ā jones, just --Ā ā
his tone is soft now -- HUSHED,Ā as if she isnāt only inches away,Ā able to hear every wordĀ that filters through the speaker. the cheery american voice is LOUD AND CLEAR,Ā and she feels a hitchĀ in her chest at it.
Ā Ā ā IANTO ! this is your one am wake up call. SORRYĀ about the early hour, but the rift isnātĀ knownĀ for waiting for a decent hour.Ā ā
perhaps the situation would be less painful if she couldnāt SEEĀ the change. perhaps she wouldnāt feel this woundedĀ if his spine didnāt straighten,Ā if his shoulders didnāt roll back just a bitĀ at jackās voice. perhaps it wouldnāt hurt so badlyĀ if he didnāt react like the BEST THING IN THE WORLDĀ had just happened, in jack calling. she simply lay there,Ā staring at his back, feeling that acheĀ in her chest grow.
Ā Ā ā iāll make it upĀ to you in the onlyĀ way i know how if you can get your beautiful suited selfĀ to the hub in twenty minutes.Ā iāve got a spare stopwatch. time starts now,Ā ianto jones !Ā ā
silence follows as the call disconnects. silenceĀ as a frost creeps over the room, icy tendrils wrapping around each atom of reginaās being, turning hurt to a cold, distant anger.Ā she knowsĀ iantoās decision before he moves -- before heās up and searching for his clothing, BEFOREĀ he turns to look at her with some useless apologyĀ in blue eyes. she says NOTHING,Ā simply staring at him, her jaw clenchedĀ and fingernails bitingĀ into her palms as her hand curls into a fist,Ā keeping everyĀ cutting word she wants to hurlĀ at him locked in her chest.
Ā Ā ā itās not about that,Ā scott, itās work -- ā
her tone cuts cleanly across his words like a KNIFE,Ā refusing to allow any excuses.Ā she can feelĀ the hurricane threatening in her own eyes as she stares him down,Ā releasing every bit of hurt as COLD, SHARP ANGER.
Ā Ā ā of COURSEĀ it is, iām not just -- just leavingĀ you. ā the lifted eyebrow she quirks is enough to let him know that is exactlyĀ what heās doing, and he pauses, half-dressed now, to look fullyĀ at her. she may as well be made of stoneĀ at this point -- unmoving, hard, and cold.Ā she knowsĀ he can see it, KNOWSĀ that he is not obliviousĀ enough to ignore what he is doing here. he steps closer now, but she does not lift her body to meet him, still there, half-reclining. he pauses, a soft sighĀ escaping those lips she knows so well, and she cannot deny that there is genuineĀ regret in his expression. she also cannot deny that it is not enough.Ā Ā ā they needĀ me. ā
there is THUNDERĀ in her voice now, a maelstromĀ threatening on the horizon. perhaps it is the onlyĀ time that such an honest, desperateĀ confession has doubled as a THREAT.Ā he steps closer once more, within reach now, but she REFUSESĀ to close the gap.
Ā Ā ā and iām coming back,Ā scott. i promise. ā
Ā Ā ā right, after heās done with you ? ā her voice is loudĀ now - shouting, sheās shoutingĀ at him, and upon that release, she finds she cannot STOP.Ā ā i have never ONCEĀ asked you to stay,Ā and i am telling you now,Ā you KNOWĀ they can do this withoutĀ you, donāt you DAREĀ walk out that door !Ā ā
again, a line is crossed. she can seeĀ the way he stiffens at that order,Ā before blue eyes avertĀ from her and he continues to dress. once more, a quiet descends over them, chilling regina to the bone.Ā she cannot help the bitter edge to the sardonic curl of her lips, her grey gaze steady on him. he does not LOOK AT HER again until he is adjusting the tie around his neck, turning to meet her gaze with a sigh.Ā his eyes seem, impossibly, A DEEPER BLUEĀ now than they ever have been before, bright with regretĀ as he steps closer. he seats himself at the edge of the bed, head tilted in -- what, empathy ? sympathy ? she wants NONEĀ of it. and still, the woman made of stone does not moveĀ when he reaches out to cup her cheek, his thumb ghostingĀ along the line of her face.
Ā Ā ā iām sorryĀ i have to go. iām sorryĀ about the timingĀ of it. this is about torchwood, and i promise, scott, iām going to come back to you.Ā ā
the soft turns on the vowels in each word would normally bring her COMFORT,Ā but for now, it feels only like heartbreak.Ā and finally, marble comes to lifeĀ when he leans in to kiss her -- turning her head away from him, refusingĀ the gesture. his lips brush her cheek instead, and she can feelĀ the hesitation in him as he simply watchesĀ her. she has not looked away from him since the momentĀ he had first entered the room that night, and now, she will see anythingĀ BUTĀ ianto jones.
Ā Ā ā i'll be back.Ā ā there is another hesitation, and for a MOMENT,Ā there is a brief inkling that her nameĀ lies heavy on his lips -- not scott, but regina.Ā she brushes off the strange intuition,Ā still refusing to meet his gaze as he releases a sigh,Ā heavier than the one past, and stands.
she does not move as the door closes.
she does not MOVEĀ for -- god knowsĀ how long after. there is nothing but the empty room, and the silence,Ā save for her pulse rushing along each vein. in her head is a voice she has found she hatesĀ -- jack,Ā his words bright as he speaks to the man she loves. she knowsĀ it is unfair to hate him for this -- what has he done WRONGĀ other than exist ? she has metĀ him, she UNDERSTANDSĀ the magnetic pullĀ he seems to have on every being within range.
she does not know now if she even mattersĀ to ianto in the face of that.
when she DOESĀ move, it is to the window, to light a cigarette. it is RAREĀ that she gives in to the urge to breathe deepĀ of this poison,Ā but somehow, she feels as though it is appropriateĀ that night.
it is long after the cigarette has burnt down to nothingĀ that she finds her phone, returning to the window to stareĀ at the city outside. this city.Ā god, how she hatesĀ it. she HATESĀ the weather, she hatesĀ the grimy streets, she HATESĀ the people there. all but one.Ā how STUPIDĀ she feels now, taking all this time to fly across an oceanĀ for him, when he has leftĀ at a momentās notice. and she must acknowledgeĀ now what she refused to see before -- that he will neverĀ turn down jackās beckoning words. that there will neverĀ be a moment when he will not run to his captain, even when lying with her.
she wonāt be waiting for him when he returns.
a tap on the phone, lifting it to her ear as she gazes still, distantly, in the direction she knows the hub to be. heās probably been there and gone,Ā now, off to fight some alien or chase down a bad guy.Ā heās being the HEROĀ he always has been,Ā but it no longer seems to her to be a GOOD THING.Ā not now.
the click of her call being answered draws her attention, as well as the concern in the deep, sleep-weighted voice at the other end.
Ā Ā ā gina ? itās three in the morning, are you ALL RIGHT ? ā
that familiar note of careĀ nearly breaks the icy wall -- but she does not allow it to shatter. there is no roomĀ for self-pity to drown her. it will have to waitĀ until she is home.
sheās always considered home a feeling,Ā rather than a place.Ā what a naive notion.
Ā Ā ā i need you to find the next flight home, adrian. weāre leaving tonight. please -- ā she forestalls the inevitable questionĀ as quickly as she can manage. ā donāt ask. i just need to go home.Ā ā
she ends the call then, unableĀ to handle his inevitable questions. she knows he will show up soon enough, ready to listen and to hold her if needed, ready to be there.Ā she takes one last glance at the city, almost hopingĀ sheāll be able to see that black suv that will let her knowĀ he is out there. even now, she worries for his safety.
a sigh escapes her, as she finally turns from the window. there is nothing more that can make this any betterĀ -- and waitingĀ for his return is a level of pathetic devotionĀ she refuses to give him. itās time for her to go home.
