#fluffuary2023

Cullen strode up behind her. He traced his finger from the nape of her neck to the hem of her chemise, and down the curve of her shoulder blade, where the stiff structure of the stay wound around her back. His hand lingered there as he leaned in and softly kissed her cheek. “May I?”

“Of course.” Thalia’s fingers stilled, and she waited, skin alive from where his had grazed her. 

After a few moments, he hadn’t moved, and she looked up at him, flicking the braid over shoulder. He was studying her garments as he might the map of Thedas in the war room. 

Thalia laughed softly. “Is a woman’s stay proving a wily enemy?” 

“Er, not exactly.” His fingers circled the top of the stay, searching for an opening. 

She turned to him, guiding his hand to the space between her breasts. “This one laces in front. So that I can do it myself.”

“Ah. I see.” He pulled slowly at the knot tied in the hollow of her chest, brows furrowed, steady gaze on the task at hand. 

He looked so serious. Thalia stifled another giggle. The knot gave way, and she let out a sigh as the whole garment loosened. “That’s better.” 

Emboldened, Cullen took hold of her waist and angled her gently toward the light. “Hold still,” he murmured, staring at the front of her stay as if devising a plan of attack. 

Thalia bit her lip, desire threading through her, and did as instructed. He worked the laces from their eyelets, the gentleness of his touch causing her breath to catch. 

“Does it hurt, to wear something so restrictive?” he asked. 

“Not usually. No more so than wearing armor, I’d imagine.” She smiled, remembering the first time she helped him out of his. So many interlocking metal pieces — she’d laughed and laughed because they never seemed to end. “Though I don’t always wear them, as I suppose you’ve noticed. They go best with gowns, or if you don’t want ah, everything flopping around on the battlefield.” Thalia laughed. “Am I boring you? Too much talk of a lady’s undergarments?” 

“You could never bore me,” Cullen said, with a softness to his voice that never failed to send a thrill through her. He finished with the lacing and helped her disentangle the stay from her arms. “Where should I put this?” 

“I’m not sure I care right now,” Thalia admitted. Now only in her chemise, she stepped closer and wound her arms around his neck.

Cullen laughed, leaning in for a kiss. “Well, it seems improper to throw it on the floor.” 

“We’re staying in a manse that belongs to a Comte. I’m sure the servants will come by at some point.” 

“All right, all right.” He tossed the garment over her shoulder and onto a nearby armchair. “At least that way it won’t get dirty.” 

“Your attention to cleanliness is admirable,” Thalia said, taking hold of the lapels on his uniform jacket. “But are you certain there’s nothing else here more pressing?” 

He gazed down at her, brown eyes warm in the candlelight. “Only if you’d like there to be.” 

     Toshiko Sato woke up with a crick in her neck.

     She was slumped over the briefing room’s table, and when she looked around, she found Ianto, Gwen, and Owen all at the table as well.  Jack was nowhere to be found, and that wasn’t actually that surprising.  Owen was just waking up as well, blinking and frowning adorably, like a kitten just woken.  “What the bloody h3ll’s going on?”  He muttered, as confused as she was.

     “I don’t know.”  Tosh admitted, moving her arms back and to the sides to stretch.  “Last thing I remember is going to bed.”

     “I think I fell asleep watching the telly.”  Owen said.  Noticing something on the table next to him, he frowned.  “Why are my old reading glasses here?”

     “And where are mine?”  Tosh queried, patting herself down in search of her wayward spectacles.

     Ianto made a sound, sitting upright.  He looked around in as much confusion as they were in, then stood up and poked his head out the doorway.  “Jack?”  He called.  “Jack?”  Turning away from the door again and going to Gwen’s side, he asked, “Have either of you seen Jack?”

     Tosh shook her head.  “No, we’ve only been awake a minute.  He could be in his office.”

     Nodding, Ianto gently shook Gwen’s shoulder.  Tosh stood and walked out of the room, stretching either arm across her chest.  She headed for her computer, pulling up system files and the CCTV logs.  Gwen and Owen emerged and also opened up the computers, the three of them conferring on which avenues to pursue for answers each.    

     “Has anyone seen my diary?”  Ianto asked.  Receiving a collective negative, he disappeared again in search of his book.

     Several minutes passed as the three of them fruitlessly scoured their resources for any clue as to what had transpired between their last memories and waking up.  “Jack, how have we lost two days?”  Gwen queried as their wayward leader appeared.

     “What do you mean?”  He asked.

     “Last 48 hours- none of us can remember a thing.”  Ianto clarified, re-entering the Hub. 

     “The system’s blank, the CCTV’s been wiped.”  Tosh chimed in.  “What’s going on?  What’ve we been doing?”

     Their leader was silent for a moment, confusion and suspicion warring on his face.  “I don’t know.”  He admitted at last.

     “Great, that’s two days of my life that I’ll never get back.”  Owen remarked dryly.

     “Looks like Toshiko got herself a secret admirer, though.”  Jack commented, gesturing to the large vase of flowers that she admittedly hadn’t really noticed on her desk with his mug.

     “Oh, yeah?”  Owen seemed to notice as well as Tosh took the card from where it sat among the blooms.

     “‘To Tosh, Love and apologies-’” her breath caught as she read the name of the sender, but she pushed past it to finish the card with no noticeable hesitation.  “‘-Owen.’”  She couldn’t help her smile as she looked up at him.  “They’re from you.”

     With an amused expression on his face, he opened his mouth to speak, but shut it before actually saying anything.  He came over, pulling his jacket on, and plucked the card from her hands, scanning over it himself.  “Well, I’d say that I don’t do flowers or apologies, but… well, that is my handwriting.”  With a shrug, he offered the card back to her, and she returned it to its place as he gave her a rather rueful half-smirk.  “Must’ve done something awful.  My bad.”

     “It’s not like I remember, so… forgiven.”  She replied, her smile widening.  She prayed she hadn’t come across as too lenient.

     “You’re not gonna make him beg a little?  Grovel a bit?”  Gwen jokingly critiqued.

     Tosh shrugged.  “Like I said, I don’t remember.  It couldn’t have been that bad, and he did apologize.”  (She ignored the rest of the team exchanging looks.)

     “Well, that’s a relief.”  Owen said, but whether it was sarcastic or genuine, she couldn’t tell.  “You got anything left to do before you go home?”

     Rather startled at his unusual (for him) question, it took Tosh a moment to formulate a response.  “Not much, no.  I was going to close up the windows on the computer and then get a bite to eat on the way to my flat.”  She replied.

     After all, she had no idea when and what she ate last.

     “Now there’s an idea.  I could go with you, if you like.”  He offered, surprising her even more.  “I’m leaving now anyway, and I’m starving.”

     Tosh weighed her options for a brief moment, but it took very little to convince her to agree.  Smiling, she nodded.  “I’d like that.  Thank you.”

     He gave her one of his odd little half-smirks.  “There’s a nice sandwich shop not far from here.  I remember seeing smoked salmon on their menu.  That’s your favorite, isn’t it?”

     She tilted her head, confused yet pleasantly surprised that he knew her favorite kind.  “How’d you know that?”

     He shrugged.  “Must’ve heard you mention it at some point.”

     Tosh wondered if maybe he soaked up the little things she said like she did his.  God, she hoped so, even if she was sure it was a foolish hope.  She said nothing, unsure of what to say, and quickly closed out of the windows on her computer.  When she finished, she collected her jacket and bag, and followed Owen outside.

     Their colleagues watched them go.  “He’d better not break her heart.”  Gwen was the first to break the pensive, observant silence.

     “If he does, I’ll feed him to Janet.”  Jack agreed.