Chapter Four:Feeling

FOOTNOTES ARE NOT NECESSARY TO READ THOUGH THEY ARE FILLED WITH HELPFUL, INTERESTING INFORMATION. PLEASE DO NOT FEEL OBLIGATED TO READ THEM, BUT IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO KNOW MORE BACKGROUND INFORMATION ABOUT THE CHARACTERS INVOLVED, I WOULD RECOMMEND READING IT. THANK YOU FOR READING.

*This chapter is changing into Jack’s point of view. In the first chapter he had just gotten out of COE, and was still gathering himself. This chapter is based a few months after, when the hub is rebuilt and Gwen has her belly swollen. Rhys has his old job back and Jack has made sure Gwen only works computers, in fear of her getting hurt and her baby hurt. Jack is still damaged by the events of COE and losing Ianto, but is more optimistic now. No major Rift activity has happened, and Torchwood doesn’t have anyone but Jack and Gwen. (Gwen finally stood up to Rhys and told him he could not be a Torchwood member, as he does not have the proper requirements.(Medicals, electronics, connections, etc.)) Gwen doesn’t like her pregnancy getting in the way of her field work, and feels aggravated and frustrated at Jack, though she does not tell him because she is considerate toward his feelings and sensitivity at the moment, and she knows he’s just trying to protect her and her baby. Jack doesn’t like talking about his feelings, but will if the moment called for it. (This is different from Tegan, who won’t burden people with her emotions no matter what.)

**Read previous chapters’ notes.

Feeling. (ch.4)

“Gwen?” I called into the rusty air if the newly constructed Torchwood
lair, the smell of coffee in the air. A coldness clenched my heart as
I remembered my dear Ianto, my butler, my coffee maker. I choke back
sobs and tears and search for Gwen, as she calls from the kitchen for
help.*

“Gwen, you really should be home considering your condition!!”* I told
her shortly, indicating her swollen stomach.*

“I’m fine!” she screeched, emerald eyes wide when frustration and
importance.*

I sigh, as I cannot fight her, and accept the coffee she all but
shoves it my hand.* I sip at my morning elixir and shut my eyes for a
quick, tear-jerking moment*-the coffee tasted just the same as when
Ianto had made it.*

When I open my eyes again, I see Gwen looking at me with sadness,
remembrance, and a hint of admiration.* “What’s that look for?” I ask,
and she directs her attention to her desk, ignoring me with a simple
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’*

I silently thank her, for I cannot bear to discuss my lover out loud,
not just yet.* She seems to know and understand this; she avoids the
topics nearly daily now, working on finding help while I deal with the
Torchwood business.*

I check the database for changes in the rift, and the results are
clear—today is slow. Everyday has been that way since we came back. I
wonder if the universe has given up on spitting things out, or if it
is simply taking a nap.*

“A list of previous one-way tickets purchased into Cardiff though the
airport.” Gwen says, downloading a list of files.

“Cross-reference where they’ll be staying with rift activity areas.
Then print out a list of the lucky few who might be getting any ‘bumps
in the night.’” I order, and she complies. We’ve been looking into
possible victims lately, and we still keep coming up dry. I wonder if
all the good Torchwood agents are extinct. We’ve already looked into
all the ‘good-morals’ doctors at the nearest hospitals and clinics,
and even the vets! None of them had what it takes to be on the front
line. So we’re looking into the police, and anyone new in town.

I sigh. Paperwork has never been my favorite. I look sadly at Gwen,
who’s been confined to paperwork for the past seven months. Over a
half of a year of doing nothing but staring at a computer screen, I
wonder why she hasn’t screamed yet…*

My stomach growls, and Gwen smiles looking up from her desk. “I’ll
have fish and chips, then.” I smile and reply with a witty and
sarcastic, ‘Aye, aye. Captain!’ she giggles and turns back to her
screen.

Standing, I take the evaluator, (an exact replica of the one before,
only faster,) and walk into the center, picking the usual restaurant
and ordering my food.

And as I ate, I had the oddest feeling, as if fate had its’ fickle
thumb pressed onto me…