Title: Unforgettable
Author: Wereleopard58
Rating: R
Word Count: 182
Prompt 053: Crossover pairing
Pairing (if any): Martha/Faith
Characters: Martha Jones, Faith
Fandoms: Torchwood/Buffy/Angel
Spoilers: for season two of Torchwood, kind of. Better to be safe than sorry.
Summary: Martha and Faith meet.
Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Torchwood, Buffy or Angel

***

Toshiko didn't stay in front of the Millennium Center much longer. Once Jack walked away, silent and mysterious, she only spent a minute staring at the cracks in the pavement. The streetlamps weren't very bright and she couldn't see very much detail. There were only swirls of blurred black, gold, and brown, too distant from her consciousness to make an imprint in her thoughts. Late-night strollers moved in and out of her vision, nameless and terrifying.

She slid her hands from the tops of her thighs to her knees, leaned forward and rose slowly. Taking a step, she wobbled slightly in the high-heeled boots that she had untucked her jeans from. She took a deep breath and pursed her lips in determination. One last sniffle and wipe at her eyes and she tried to curl the corners of her lips upward for her own benefit and maybe for Jack's.

He was watching her on the CCTV, of course. Maybe he had sat down at her station with a last cup of coffee from Ianto, expecting a long night. He had to be keeping an eye on her. Jack was giving her space to sort through this on her own, but still close enough. He had listened to her, joked with her, held her head in his hand and wiped away tears.

He sent Mary to the center of the sun. 15,000,000吏퇒 means nearly instantaneous incineration. The hard facts whispered to her through thick fog of numbed emotion. But Mary had been lying, using her, hadn't actually loved her. And Tosh had worked out in her head that maybe that was why Jack had killed her with no apparent remorse. Because that was what a murderous traitor deserved. And because he did love her, even if not in the same all-consuming way. The idea foamed gently in the corners of her mind, soothing like good champagne. It was the sort information that, now that she'd thought of it, she had no idea what to do with it yet. Though it was probably far too presumptuous than she had the liberty for, she kept thought coiled up in her mind.

During the walk home her head was so full blaring noise that that its redundancy built pressure between her temples. She seemed to be thinking every thought all at once. But this time, she knew it was all her own. Her mind was over-compensating, filling itself: expanding shadows to replace the roaring screams that had been everyone else and the sharp sparkle that had been Mary.

By the time she reached her flat she could feel her heart clenching and the tears building up again without her previous knowledge. She tried not to look at the stone wall across the street, where Mary had been waiting for her just days ago. As she turned the key in the lock and reached for the doorknob, a wisp of cool air fluttered across the top of her chest. With no necklace, it was completely bare. Tosh shivered and tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes.

Tears still making tracks down her face, she closed the door behind her and slid her coat off of her arms. Neatly, she hung it on the coat rack and set her keys on the table beside it. But she didn't remove her hand from the table. Instead she let her fingers trace soft, invisible patterns across the table top. A sob left her throat and she closed her eyes, concentrating on the feel of tears gliding down her cheeks in time with the great rise and fall of her chest as she took slow, deep breaths.

She could be crying in anger. Mary had betrayed her. Owen and Gwen were shagging each other, even though Gwen knew about her small crush on Owen. Jack had kept important information from her and murdered Mary. She had allowed herself be messed around with. But no, none of those things were responsible.

She couldn't stop crying because she had fallen in love. For a few brilliant days she had been head over heels in love. Her heart had lost itself to a lover who was smart, sexy, and bold. The Mary she knew called her beautiful, cared about her, and understood. That woman let her talk about alien life and ramble on about similarities in culture and the fundamentals of existence. Mary, the cigarette-smoking, thick eyeliner-wearing human who understood her and her desperate need to find hope somewhere out in the universe had never existed. Tosh had fallen in love with a projected dream.

So she cried for herself, for her loss, and for the kisses and smiles she would never feel against her skin ever again. And, of course, for the terribly beautiful memories left churning around in her head, empty and seductive.

When the thoughts had finally settled down inside her head, her fingers stopped. The thunderous echo of stale over-heard thoughts settled down a bit, but her head hurt and her eyelids itched from crying. She padded over to the refrigerator and pulled a water bottle off the lowest shelf inside the door. The cap crackled as she twisted the top open and took a long drink. While she downed half of the bottle in big gulps, her head cleared a bit more and she realized she was far too keyed-up to sleep but too exhausted to stay awake.

When she set the water bottle down, she saw it.

There was a hideously orange blob of fluff sitting next to her coffeemaker. Blinking a few times, her eyes narrowed in confusion. There was also a grey, silk ribbon tied in a bow around it with a short note attached.

--After several thorough tests, this has been classified as the Plorinovian equivalent of a teddy bear. Also, look in your microwave.--

There was no signature, but the neat print and perfect grammar was undoubtedly Ianto's. Curious, Tosh opened her microwave to find a thermos. Taking it out, she unscrewed the cap and steam billowed out, filling her senses with the scent of dark chocolate, espresso, and maybe a light hint of brandy. It was the special coffee Ianto only made for the Christmas party. Despite many spectacularly failed attempts, no one had been able to recreate the recipe and Ianto refused to give it to them. A tiny smile fluttered across her face.

She grabbed her biggest mug and filled it, taking a small sip. The heat seeped down her throat and wrapped itself around her muscles. She set the mug down, replaced the cap of the thermos, and carried her laptop to the island in her kitchen from where she had left it at the door. She turned it on and pulled up the barely started list for U.N.I.T. She walked briskly around the island again and untied the ribbon from around the mass of orange fluff. Her finger tips ghosted across the material. Despite its appearance, the fabric rippled like water under her touch but, curiously pressing her whole hand to it, she was reminded of soft rose petals and warm fleece.

She took it with her to her laptop. Pulling herself onto a stool, she grabbed the mug with one hand and sandwiched the delicate fluff between herself and the counter, hugging it closer with the other arm. Then, she took another sip of coffee, smiled into her new orange teddy bear and began to tell U.N.I.T. that yes, aliens and alien tech did come through the Rift quite often and no, they sure as hell couldn't have any of it.

***