Bela Talbot (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
enjoythe_ride) wrote2011-04-11 11:07 pm
enjoythe_ride) wrote2011-04-11 11:07 pm
charloft } { 42. Travel troubles
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maybenext_time is used with permission and love. likedollclothes is mine to use and abuse and I promise to put verydistinctive and yeahihidmypants back right where I found them.]
It starts a few days prior.
Fiona’s charging into the hub, looking pretty peeved at someone, and Oliver is holding his hands up as he comes in behind her. She doesn’t stop when she sees Bela, or even return her half-greeting as she blows past Bela straight to Sam’s office. It is not at all like Fiona, and Bela isn’t entirely sure how to respond before turning back to Oliver, looking for some kind of explanation.
“Don’t look at me,” he replies as he came to a stop next to her. “I was just coming to check in with Sam. She seemed like a woman on a mission.”
“She’s not a Torchwood agent, Oliver,” Bela sighs. “She’s more of an … associate.”
The look Oliver gives her is mildly annoyed, but she can hear the amusement in his tone when he speaks. “Hey. I don’t work here. You want me to screen your guests at the door, you have to warn me in advance.”
Bela smirks before turning back to where Fiona had headed. “If she’s looking to see Sam, she’s going to be disappointed. He’s in Cardiff, dealing with Jack.”
“I have a feeling that won’t go over well.”
“Probably not. You should run before she takes it out on you.”
Oliver smirks back at her, before turning and heading toward the medical bay. “I’ll go find Rachel. Good luck and God speed.”
As he heads to the left, Fiona comes charging out of Sam’s office, fixing Bela with a glare. “Where is Sam?”
“In Cardiff,” Bela replied, heading back towards her desk to pick up her coat. “A meeting of our fearless leaders.”
“Not your Sam. My Sam.” She huffs as her hands land on her hips, intending to stare Bela down. “Eliot came by the house this afternoon. He and Sam got into a rather heated discussion by the pool, and when I came out to investigate, I was fortunate enough to witness the two of them being sucked up by a vortex. A vortex very similar to the one you arrived in not that long ago.”
As she continues speaking, Bela’s heart drops further and further into her stomach. That fact must have been written all over her face, because Fiona’s face softens from anger to something more akin to fear. Bela swallows, hard, before moving over to one of the computers. “We didn’t do it. But we can track where they went.”
“What do you mean you didn’t do it? How else could it have happened?”
“I don’t know. That’s what I intend to find out.” Bela sighs heavily as she lands at one of the computer screens. “We track any rift activity. If something was out of place, I’ll be able to track it and possibly be able to find the source.”
“The source. Meaning the who. I’m looking for the where, Bela.”
Bela took a breath before glancing back over to her. “That’s going to be a little harder.”
“Harder why? If you can track where the wormhole came from, can’t you track where it let them out?”
“Not if we didn’t generate it. Which we didn’t.” Bela is starting to get a headache simply out of the worry alone, because she is relatively certain that Eliot isn’t prepared for the push pull of being grabbed through a wormhole, never mind that time travel of that nature was rough on even the most seasoned Time Agent. She hasn’t been prepared to be lose him like this.
In fact, she hasn’t prepared herself to lose him at all.
After a moment, she realizes that Fiona’s still hovering over her shoulder, peering at the computer screen. She takes a breath before glancing back at her. “This is going to take some time, Fiona.”
“Fortunately, the mysterious vortex stole my boyfriend. My plans happen to be wide open.”
… It is going to be a long night.
***
It takes three days for Bela to get any kind of viable information, and it doesn’t come from a computer. It, in fact, comes from Sam Axe himself. He manages to get the communicator function on his vortex manipulator to work, but there didn’t seem to be any chance of generating a wormhole of his own. Which means that Bela would have to go get them.
Not that she hadn’t planned on doing that in the first place, but the point needed to be reiterated.
What she doesn’t agree with, is Sam’s insistence that she bring Fiona instead of Sam Winchester. It isn’t anything personal towards Fiona, but at that point, the woman is starting to drive her a little crazy.
Sam also says that Eliot is fine. Bela isn’t one to trust Sam’s definition of ‘fine.’
“He’ll take me to Paris, he says. It’ll be romantic, he says.” There’s a huff as Fiona gestures to the thick, heavy dress she’s wearing, and glares back at Bela. “This is not romantic!”
Bela grumbles as she pulls at the breast band of the dress, trying to get it to settle properly. There is simply nothing practical about women’s fashions in this time period. While that does make it easier to conceal things, it’s not necessarily easy to be comfortable. “I’m aware of that. Do you think I’m enjoying this little vacation, Fiona?” She is, after all, the one who’s significant someone is holed up in a French prison, potentially injured. But never mind that, let’s complain about Sam’s lack of a sense of romance. It’s much more productive.
Most of the time, Bela really did like Fiona. However, when her temper is running a little high, Bela doesn’t really like much of anyone. She takes a breath as the clothes finally settle on her body, before turning to face her again.
“Alright. Let’s go get Sam and Eliot out of prison, shall we?”
Fiona sighs herself, before nodding. “After you.”
***
Getting into the prison isn’t the problem. They’re two women in an age where men ogled much more openly. It’s finding Eliot and Sam once they’re in the prison that’s the tough part. The thirteen hundreds aren’t known for their electric lighting and even paths. They manage to flirt their way into a guard telling them where to look, and two hours later, Bela’s hearing her name in a very familiar voice.
“Bela! Man, oh man—aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”
Bela’s head snaps in the direction of Sam’s voice, and she’s off and running towards the sound. When they arrive at the cell, her eyes are drawn past Sam’s shoulder to where Eliot is spread out on a cot behind him.
“Oh, God, Eliot.”
There is a reason she doesn’t trust Sam Axe’s definition of ‘fine.’ She slides the key she stole from the guard into the iron door, before popping it open and making her way inside to drop down onto her knees next to him. There’s a bloody gash in his side that seems to have been wrapped by what looks like the blood-covered remains of one of Sam’s Hawaiian shirts. Her hand brushes against the side of his face, and his eyes open briefly, for a moment, to look at her, before they slip closed again.
“I did the best I could, given the circumstances. But this time period isn’t exactly known for their medical advances. Especially in here.”
Bela nods slowly, before reaching into the pouch she brought with her, and handing him her own vortex manipulator. “Then get us home so we can fix it.”
“I thought you’d never ask,” he says as he reaches for the small device, taking it in his hands.
Fiona enters the cell as she’s handing it off, and Bela isn’t sure if Fiona is going to kiss him or punch him. She settles for a hard hit to the shoulder and a glare. “You still owe me a trip to Paris.”
“I had a feeling you wouldn’t let me off the hook that easily,” he says with a smirk, before reaching for Bela’s hand as she moves to brace Eliot. “Everybody ready?”
Bela nods, keeping Eliot pressed against her as she squeezes Sam’s hand. “There’s no place like home.”
1365 words
whatyou_wanted. maybenext_time is used with permission and love. likedollclothes is mine to use and abuse and I promise to put verydistinctive and yeahihidmypants back right where I found them.]It starts a few days prior.
Fiona’s charging into the hub, looking pretty peeved at someone, and Oliver is holding his hands up as he comes in behind her. She doesn’t stop when she sees Bela, or even return her half-greeting as she blows past Bela straight to Sam’s office. It is not at all like Fiona, and Bela isn’t entirely sure how to respond before turning back to Oliver, looking for some kind of explanation.
“Don’t look at me,” he replies as he came to a stop next to her. “I was just coming to check in with Sam. She seemed like a woman on a mission.”
“She’s not a Torchwood agent, Oliver,” Bela sighs. “She’s more of an … associate.”
The look Oliver gives her is mildly annoyed, but she can hear the amusement in his tone when he speaks. “Hey. I don’t work here. You want me to screen your guests at the door, you have to warn me in advance.”
Bela smirks before turning back to where Fiona had headed. “If she’s looking to see Sam, she’s going to be disappointed. He’s in Cardiff, dealing with Jack.”
“I have a feeling that won’t go over well.”
“Probably not. You should run before she takes it out on you.”
Oliver smirks back at her, before turning and heading toward the medical bay. “I’ll go find Rachel. Good luck and God speed.”
As he heads to the left, Fiona comes charging out of Sam’s office, fixing Bela with a glare. “Where is Sam?”
“In Cardiff,” Bela replied, heading back towards her desk to pick up her coat. “A meeting of our fearless leaders.”
“Not your Sam. My Sam.” She huffs as her hands land on her hips, intending to stare Bela down. “Eliot came by the house this afternoon. He and Sam got into a rather heated discussion by the pool, and when I came out to investigate, I was fortunate enough to witness the two of them being sucked up by a vortex. A vortex very similar to the one you arrived in not that long ago.”
As she continues speaking, Bela’s heart drops further and further into her stomach. That fact must have been written all over her face, because Fiona’s face softens from anger to something more akin to fear. Bela swallows, hard, before moving over to one of the computers. “We didn’t do it. But we can track where they went.”
“What do you mean you didn’t do it? How else could it have happened?”
“I don’t know. That’s what I intend to find out.” Bela sighs heavily as she lands at one of the computer screens. “We track any rift activity. If something was out of place, I’ll be able to track it and possibly be able to find the source.”
“The source. Meaning the who. I’m looking for the where, Bela.”
Bela took a breath before glancing back over to her. “That’s going to be a little harder.”
“Harder why? If you can track where the wormhole came from, can’t you track where it let them out?”
“Not if we didn’t generate it. Which we didn’t.” Bela is starting to get a headache simply out of the worry alone, because she is relatively certain that Eliot isn’t prepared for the push pull of being grabbed through a wormhole, never mind that time travel of that nature was rough on even the most seasoned Time Agent. She hasn’t been prepared to be lose him like this.
In fact, she hasn’t prepared herself to lose him at all.
After a moment, she realizes that Fiona’s still hovering over her shoulder, peering at the computer screen. She takes a breath before glancing back at her. “This is going to take some time, Fiona.”
“Fortunately, the mysterious vortex stole my boyfriend. My plans happen to be wide open.”
… It is going to be a long night.
***
It takes three days for Bela to get any kind of viable information, and it doesn’t come from a computer. It, in fact, comes from Sam Axe himself. He manages to get the communicator function on his vortex manipulator to work, but there didn’t seem to be any chance of generating a wormhole of his own. Which means that Bela would have to go get them.
Not that she hadn’t planned on doing that in the first place, but the point needed to be reiterated.
What she doesn’t agree with, is Sam’s insistence that she bring Fiona instead of Sam Winchester. It isn’t anything personal towards Fiona, but at that point, the woman is starting to drive her a little crazy.
Sam also says that Eliot is fine. Bela isn’t one to trust Sam’s definition of ‘fine.’
“He’ll take me to Paris, he says. It’ll be romantic, he says.” There’s a huff as Fiona gestures to the thick, heavy dress she’s wearing, and glares back at Bela. “This is not romantic!”
Bela grumbles as she pulls at the breast band of the dress, trying to get it to settle properly. There is simply nothing practical about women’s fashions in this time period. While that does make it easier to conceal things, it’s not necessarily easy to be comfortable. “I’m aware of that. Do you think I’m enjoying this little vacation, Fiona?” She is, after all, the one who’s significant someone is holed up in a French prison, potentially injured. But never mind that, let’s complain about Sam’s lack of a sense of romance. It’s much more productive.
Most of the time, Bela really did like Fiona. However, when her temper is running a little high, Bela doesn’t really like much of anyone. She takes a breath as the clothes finally settle on her body, before turning to face her again.
“Alright. Let’s go get Sam and Eliot out of prison, shall we?”
Fiona sighs herself, before nodding. “After you.”
***
Getting into the prison isn’t the problem. They’re two women in an age where men ogled much more openly. It’s finding Eliot and Sam once they’re in the prison that’s the tough part. The thirteen hundreds aren’t known for their electric lighting and even paths. They manage to flirt their way into a guard telling them where to look, and two hours later, Bela’s hearing her name in a very familiar voice.
“Bela! Man, oh man—aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”
Bela’s head snaps in the direction of Sam’s voice, and she’s off and running towards the sound. When they arrive at the cell, her eyes are drawn past Sam’s shoulder to where Eliot is spread out on a cot behind him.
“Oh, God, Eliot.”
There is a reason she doesn’t trust Sam Axe’s definition of ‘fine.’ She slides the key she stole from the guard into the iron door, before popping it open and making her way inside to drop down onto her knees next to him. There’s a bloody gash in his side that seems to have been wrapped by what looks like the blood-covered remains of one of Sam’s Hawaiian shirts. Her hand brushes against the side of his face, and his eyes open briefly, for a moment, to look at her, before they slip closed again.
“I did the best I could, given the circumstances. But this time period isn’t exactly known for their medical advances. Especially in here.”
Bela nods slowly, before reaching into the pouch she brought with her, and handing him her own vortex manipulator. “Then get us home so we can fix it.”
“I thought you’d never ask,” he says as he reaches for the small device, taking it in his hands.
Fiona enters the cell as she’s handing it off, and Bela isn’t sure if Fiona is going to kiss him or punch him. She settles for a hard hit to the shoulder and a glare. “You still owe me a trip to Paris.”
“I had a feeling you wouldn’t let me off the hook that easily,” he says with a smirk, before reaching for Bela’s hand as she moves to brace Eliot. “Everybody ready?”
Bela nods, keeping Eliot pressed against her as she squeezes Sam’s hand. “There’s no place like home.”
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