Fandom: Torchwood RPF
Pairing: John Barrowman/Eve Myles
Notes: Holiday fic # 7. Written for cryssiemarsters. It was supposed to be a drabble, but they deserve more. Thanks to samstjames for typo picking.
Warnings: Yes, it's RPF and Yes, I am going there. Read at your own risk.
Spoilers: Mentions the script of CoE, but no specifics.
Disclaimer: None of this happened and I'm not making any money for saying it did.
Summary: Don't believe everything Russell tells you.
“Matilda, say hello to John.”
John walked into the hospital room, where Eve was sitting up with the baby in her arms. Eve’s smile absolutely beamed with both pride and relief. John had been in as much contact as his insane schedule allowed over the past few weeks and had some idea how frustrating the last few weeks of bed-rest had been for Evie, who was normally his match for manic energy.
“Hello Matilda,” he said softly, reaching out his hand to touch the exquisitely fragile little girl, who responded with a gurgling smile that brought back memories of visiting Carole in a similar setting. He couldn’t help thinking that Matilda was almost the spitting image of Claire at that age.
He looked at Eve, wondering if she thought the same thing he did, but she wasn’t saying anything.
If anything, it was Russell’s fault. Or more particularly, it was John’s fault for forgetting something he’d been told by more than one than person during his first series of Doctor Who: Don’t believe everything Russell tells you.
In this case, Russell had told John point blank that there would be a major romantic story line for Jack and Gwen. “We can’t do it right away, of course, but I promise their day will come.”
He’d believed it, and so had Eve, who told him she’d gotten exactly the same line, only in her case there might have been singing.
So they’d spent two series doing their best to create the basis for onscreen passion between the actual lines of the script, with whatever surreptitious looks and touches they could sneak in. Maybe it had gotten a little out of hand, to the extent that Colin had actually yelled across the set, “You do know you’re meant to be shagging the bloke, right?” Apparently, Colin wasn’t in on the master plan.
Meanwhile their off-screen closeness grew as well, including those rather ribald moments that had some members of the cast and crew in stitches and others groaning, “Oh not those things again,” whenever John exposed “the boys” or Eve gave “the girls” an airing out.
He’d opened the script for Children of Earth, anticipating the “great love story,” and found…
“There’s nothing,” he said on the phone to Eve, still stunned.
“Well, there’s some nice bits for you and Gaz,” she said sympathetically, but clearly equally gutted.
“Yeah and there’s a lot of fun for you and Kai.”
“Fun amidst the carnage. John it’s the most depressing thing I’ve ever seen,” she sounded devastated, and John wished he could tell her otherwise.
“Scott says they should get Prozac to sponsor it in the states. Either that or some razor blade company.”
The filming itself wasn’t half bad, aside from some rough days in the make-up chair. He grew to appreciate the depth of what Russell was trying to say about the culpability of the government in deciding what lives were and weren’t worthy, as well as showing the depths of Jack’s own guilt about the things he had done for Torchwood.
When he tried to ask about the “love story,” Russell bestowed one of his most indulgent smiles, “Next time around, dear boy. I promise. Have to clear the decks, a bit, give you something to come back to.”
John wasn’t convinced, either that Russell would ever come through or that there would be a “next time.” He genuinely worried what the fan reaction would be to something so bleak and whether the ratings would support a 4th series.
Luckily his own schedule was so crazy there wasn’t much time to worry about it. He could only tell himself he’d done his best and move on, but he couldn’t help feeling slightly deprived on behalf of the fans and in some strange way the character. Maybe his next Doctor Who appearance would be Jack’s swan song.
He spent the fall promoting the album and the winter in Panto. Occasionally, he’d get a call from Gavin advising him the broadcast date was being pushed further back into the following summer, just as well. He loved being Jack, but he had other things on his plate and right now it was a little too painful to think about.
Except it was impossible to avoid. No matter what else he was promoting, the topic came up and he said what he needed to say, while always thinking about what wasn’t going to be there.
Maybe he shouldn’t have invited Eve to the after-party for the filming of the Tonight’s The Night finale, but he missed seeing her, and she wasn’t the maniac for conventions and signings that he and Gareth were.
As he’d sung so many times, it really was just one of those things. The sight of Eve, in a stunning red dress that showed the girls off to their best advantage, along with her endearing grin, especially that sexy gap made him wish just for a second that he was more like Captain Jack. He wasn’t of course. For all his jokes about “titty-wanks” he’d stated firmly and for the record that he had never been with a woman beyond heavy petting, which was true. Furthermore he lacked Jack’s ability to screw around without a qualm. He was, after all, a civilly unionized man, and Eve and Brad were one of the cutest couples he knew.
Hell, they’d already been in a bed together, with Eve in her scanties and John in his boxers and nothing had happened, so why couldn’t he stop thinking about it now?
Maybe it was the extra drinks he shouldn’t have had, or a feeling that it wasn’t him and Eve at all, but Jack and Gwen making up for a promise denied. Maybe just the voice in his head that sounded too much like Jack Harkness telling him not to be a wuss, especially after taping a show called ‘Tonight’s The Night.”
He’d even sung a bit of it to Eve as they left the party together.
Cause I love you girl
Ain't nobody gonna stop us now
The little girl continued to smile at him, clearly destined to be as beautiful as her mother.
“She’s beautiful,” he said, and Eve nodded her agreement, without mentioning the question that John didn’t think he’d ever have the nerve to ask, although to him the answer was obvious.
Those were definitely Barrowman eyes.