Fic: Fight Like A Girl (Torchwood, PG)
Nov. 8th, 2010 11:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
trace_of_scarletFic: Fight Like A Girl - Toshiko Sato
Fandom: Torchwood
Rating: PG
Words: 1121
Warnings: None. No spoilers.
Notes: In which I make a very determined attempt to use the geography of my beloved home city and not cock it up the way the Torchwood writers do! ;) Betaed by my beloved Teaboy,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
plum177.
Summary: Character study: if each of the Torchwood girls is isolated and confronted by something from the Rift, how do they cope saving Cardiff whilst flying solo? Different women find different ways to win, but fighting like a girl doesn't mean you don't fight hard.
Out of St David’s and left on the high street: if she turns another ankle she’s going to break something, so she ducks into the vaguely-protective space (allowing for week-old piss and month-old ex-burgers) of the doorway of the McDonalds and tugs off her shoes. She wonders where the hell she’s going to get quick-ish Wi-Fi that she doesn’t have to hack into in a city not exactly known for its technical wizardry, but then the beamy ‘FREE WI-FI’ sticker on the door catches her eye and she scoots inside, sliding into the nearest booth and setting up her laptop in a spot mostly free of food-related detritus.
Her glasses need cleaning of the muck from the explosion, but there’s no time for that now. She’s not sure how much time she has before the newcomer does something that even Torchwood can’t clean up – she’s betting she hasn’t got much – and McDonalds’ broadband is even slower than Gwen’s ability to take a hint. She’s already uploaded the video taken from her mobile phone so Jack knows exactly what’s going on, but traffic around the city centre is hellish at the best of times since they started the road-works around the castle and with the best will in the world none of the Torchwood team can possibly be here in less than twenty minutes. In twenty minutes, she is quite sure, there will be nothing left that any of them can do.
She is on her own. Well, it’s not like that’s never happened before, and if Jack’s taught her anything (at least, anything nonsexual), it’s that there’s always a way. Tosh pinches the bridge of her nose and tries to think as the ground rumbles and around her, the remaining terrified customers peer from where they crouch under the tables, baffled by the pretty young woman sitting so straight-backed (her mother always insisted on her posture) at the tiny laptop in the deserted restaurant.
The internet is frighteningly unhelpful: not even UNIT has anything on Cardiff’s latest alien visitor. Tosh cleans her glasses absent-mindedly, staring helpless and short-sighted at the minute computer screen, and curses the Rift under her breath in English and Japanese mingled. All this crap that comes through the Rift, day after day – why them? Why here? And why does it seem to always be a one-way street?
She freezes with one spectacle still filthy as inspiration hits like a bullet. Screams filter through from outside; ‘shut up, shut up,’ she mutters distractedly, fighting to keep a grip on her silverfish of an idea before it can wriggle away, and sighs happily as it steadies and crystallises in her mind’s eye. Sometimes she thinks she lives for moments like these, moments where she seems to float in glass, far away from the world, untouchable and supreme and seeing everything. She’s brilliant, after all, and she knows she is. Tosh enters a few commands and clicks her laptop shut.
The laptop goes into her handbag and she dashes out into the street, her heels clutched tightly in one hand. She’s close, she knows she is, she just needs ... the cabling from the nearest junction box, which happens to be opposite the castle. Unfortunately that means running towards the shifting, warping crack in space-time that her last few tapped-in commands have unleashed, but you can’t have it all, right? Left out of the door onto Castle Street, and the box she needs is a short way down an alleyway just past the ironically-named Forbidden Planet where a few stalwart (or more likely, petrified) geeks are huddling behind the window display in imminent danger of being buried alive.
The junction box is locked, of course, but the Swiss Army knife on her keychain has a Torchwood-specific little device to let her deal with that without fussing with hairpins. Working fast – at least this street is civilian-free, so no distractions – she rummages in her bag for her favourite mini-toolkit and carefully clips and tugs out the wiring and circuitry she needs. That wrapped around a half-forgotten ammunition clip (also from her handbag: Jack keeps calling it a TARDIS, to everyone else’s confusion) and lodged into one of her shoes to keep it all together... She’s about done, but she just needs one last thing: a bit of hasty wiring later, and the miniature battery from her laptop makes an excellent ignition source. Tosh straightens up, closing the box’s doors tidily behind her, and edges her way back to Castle Street and a convenient vantage point. She feels a momentary pang of heartbreak for her beloved shoes, but Jack will see to it she’s paid back and there’s always eBay. She draws back her arm, sights carefully – she is only going to throw a thousand-pound Christian Louboutin work of art once – and hurls one half of her favourite stilettos as hard as she can at Cardiff’s most unwelcome visitor.
The explosion is only a small one, but the creature is already struggling to avoid the Rift’s pull and a slight knock off-balance is all it takes. There is a horrible sucking noise, followed by a very final-sounding rumble as Tosh pulls out her mobile phone and enters the codes to seal this fragment of the Rift. She totters out carefully into the traffic-jammed street, lips beginning to curl upwards as she realises with growing certainty that she’s succeeded.
It’s a grin that broadens noticeably as a flash of lacquered red sole catches her incredulous eye and she spies a battered but otherwise perfectly serviceable example of Christian Louboutin’s very specialised genius, nestled smug and exhausted like driftwood left by the tide in the door of the castle’s gift-shop. She retrieves it, dusts it off and puts it back on her left foot, repeating the process with its partner before resettling her handbag on her shoulder and tidying her mussed hair. Her mobile buzzes belatedly with another phonecall from Jack, interrupted as she very firmly turns the thing off – all the better to stride away into the Queen’s Arcade and the remainder of her day off. Saving the world is all very well, after all, but right now the city centre is virtually deserted and Howell’s shoe department has a sale on.
Fandom: Torchwood
Rating: PG
Words: 1121
Warnings: None. No spoilers.
Notes: In which I make a very determined attempt to use the geography of my beloved home city and not cock it up the way the Torchwood writers do! ;) Betaed by my beloved Teaboy,
plum177.Summary: Character study: if each of the Torchwood girls is isolated and confronted by something from the Rift, how do they cope saving Cardiff whilst flying solo? Different women find different ways to win, but fighting like a girl doesn't mean you don't fight hard.
Out of St David’s and left on the high street: if she turns another ankle she’s going to break something, so she ducks into the vaguely-protective space (allowing for week-old piss and month-old ex-burgers) of the doorway of the McDonalds and tugs off her shoes. She wonders where the hell she’s going to get quick-ish Wi-Fi that she doesn’t have to hack into in a city not exactly known for its technical wizardry, but then the beamy ‘FREE WI-FI’ sticker on the door catches her eye and she scoots inside, sliding into the nearest booth and setting up her laptop in a spot mostly free of food-related detritus.
Her glasses need cleaning of the muck from the explosion, but there’s no time for that now. She’s not sure how much time she has before the newcomer does something that even Torchwood can’t clean up – she’s betting she hasn’t got much – and McDonalds’ broadband is even slower than Gwen’s ability to take a hint. She’s already uploaded the video taken from her mobile phone so Jack knows exactly what’s going on, but traffic around the city centre is hellish at the best of times since they started the road-works around the castle and with the best will in the world none of the Torchwood team can possibly be here in less than twenty minutes. In twenty minutes, she is quite sure, there will be nothing left that any of them can do.
She is on her own. Well, it’s not like that’s never happened before, and if Jack’s taught her anything (at least, anything nonsexual), it’s that there’s always a way. Tosh pinches the bridge of her nose and tries to think as the ground rumbles and around her, the remaining terrified customers peer from where they crouch under the tables, baffled by the pretty young woman sitting so straight-backed (her mother always insisted on her posture) at the tiny laptop in the deserted restaurant.
The internet is frighteningly unhelpful: not even UNIT has anything on Cardiff’s latest alien visitor. Tosh cleans her glasses absent-mindedly, staring helpless and short-sighted at the minute computer screen, and curses the Rift under her breath in English and Japanese mingled. All this crap that comes through the Rift, day after day – why them? Why here? And why does it seem to always be a one-way street?
She freezes with one spectacle still filthy as inspiration hits like a bullet. Screams filter through from outside; ‘shut up, shut up,’ she mutters distractedly, fighting to keep a grip on her silverfish of an idea before it can wriggle away, and sighs happily as it steadies and crystallises in her mind’s eye. Sometimes she thinks she lives for moments like these, moments where she seems to float in glass, far away from the world, untouchable and supreme and seeing everything. She’s brilliant, after all, and she knows she is. Tosh enters a few commands and clicks her laptop shut.
The laptop goes into her handbag and she dashes out into the street, her heels clutched tightly in one hand. She’s close, she knows she is, she just needs ... the cabling from the nearest junction box, which happens to be opposite the castle. Unfortunately that means running towards the shifting, warping crack in space-time that her last few tapped-in commands have unleashed, but you can’t have it all, right? Left out of the door onto Castle Street, and the box she needs is a short way down an alleyway just past the ironically-named Forbidden Planet where a few stalwart (or more likely, petrified) geeks are huddling behind the window display in imminent danger of being buried alive.
The junction box is locked, of course, but the Swiss Army knife on her keychain has a Torchwood-specific little device to let her deal with that without fussing with hairpins. Working fast – at least this street is civilian-free, so no distractions – she rummages in her bag for her favourite mini-toolkit and carefully clips and tugs out the wiring and circuitry she needs. That wrapped around a half-forgotten ammunition clip (also from her handbag: Jack keeps calling it a TARDIS, to everyone else’s confusion) and lodged into one of her shoes to keep it all together... She’s about done, but she just needs one last thing: a bit of hasty wiring later, and the miniature battery from her laptop makes an excellent ignition source. Tosh straightens up, closing the box’s doors tidily behind her, and edges her way back to Castle Street and a convenient vantage point. She feels a momentary pang of heartbreak for her beloved shoes, but Jack will see to it she’s paid back and there’s always eBay. She draws back her arm, sights carefully – she is only going to throw a thousand-pound Christian Louboutin work of art once – and hurls one half of her favourite stilettos as hard as she can at Cardiff’s most unwelcome visitor.
The explosion is only a small one, but the creature is already struggling to avoid the Rift’s pull and a slight knock off-balance is all it takes. There is a horrible sucking noise, followed by a very final-sounding rumble as Tosh pulls out her mobile phone and enters the codes to seal this fragment of the Rift. She totters out carefully into the traffic-jammed street, lips beginning to curl upwards as she realises with growing certainty that she’s succeeded.
It’s a grin that broadens noticeably as a flash of lacquered red sole catches her incredulous eye and she spies a battered but otherwise perfectly serviceable example of Christian Louboutin’s very specialised genius, nestled smug and exhausted like driftwood left by the tide in the door of the castle’s gift-shop. She retrieves it, dusts it off and puts it back on her left foot, repeating the process with its partner before resettling her handbag on her shoulder and tidying her mussed hair. Her mobile buzzes belatedly with another phonecall from Jack, interrupted as she very firmly turns the thing off – all the better to stride away into the Queen’s Arcade and the remainder of her day off. Saving the world is all very well, after all, but right now the city centre is virtually deserted and Howell’s shoe department has a sale on.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-11-09 12:01 am (UTC)My one criticism being that I never really pegged Tosh for caring much about fashion/shoes beyond looking smart, but who am I to judge another persons interpretation of a character?
no subject
Date: 2010-11-09 12:25 am (UTC)Oh, and just so you know, I noticed a small typo: Tosh cleans her classes absent-mindedly
This is so lovely!
no subject
Date: 2010-11-09 05:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-12 01:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-15 08:12 am (UTC)Though a part of me always cringes when women wear impractical shoes while doing awesome things. I worry too much about their ankles and feet.
no subject
Date: 2010-11-15 08:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-09 04:13 pm (UTC)Oh, snap. :D
I like it, though I kind of don't like Tosh very much. And because of that I follow her thread at womenlovefest. I really want to like her, because I know she's valuable character and very realistic one at the same time - she's great at what she does, but she is kind of socially awkward, or at least horribly shy towards Owen (I think that last one thing is what annoys me in Tosh, but I really want to start to like her.). Maybe I have to read more about her, to kind of feel this character. Nonetheless, it was pleasure to read this story. :)
no subject
Date: 2011-10-05 02:27 am (UTC)omgggggg love this so much
and the bit about her shoes was awesome, especially the part where she uses one to hold her wire-together pieces together (idk why she wears such high heels, but it's awesome, and it was a great pick-up to her on-screen clothes)
Loved this!