case files

Happy Birthday Harley

Tue, 04 Dec 2007 00:54:15 GMT

*puts an enormous layer cake with butter frosting on the table*

*doesn't know exactly when Harley was 'born', but has chosen the day we found him as the day to celebrate his birth*

Okay, Harley...you're gonna love this...Peter, you've got the camera? Good. Just have to light the candle here...the cake looks amazing, Kevin, you've really outdone yourself...and...right. Now Harley, you make a wish and blow out the candle, and we can all have some cake!

Back Home

Thu, 09 Aug 2007 22:55:42 GMT

*returns home with a suntan and several large boxes*

*struggling to keep the boxes from falling; Peter trailing close behind and wrestling with a similar load*

*from behind the topmost box*

Harley? Kevin? Got a surprise for you.

*puts down the boxes with some relief and dials Ianto's cell phone*

Hi, Ianto. Blythe. Yeah, just got back. We've got a parcel for you here if you'd like to come and get it. Yeah, I thought I'd call first; I know how your lot are with people showing up uninvited. Alright, see you soon.

*rings off and helps Peter unpack the boxes*

Memory Lane

Fri, 06 Jul 2007 22:38:47 GMT

*browsing through the photo album Tessie brought for me*

*adds some pictures of Harley*

*smiles*

*carefully takes the small envelope of Peter's baby pictures out...and finally opens it*

*goes through them*

*can't help smiling...he was a looker, even back then*

*studies the picture of him with his parents...trying to puzzle out what sort of people could be so horrible to their own child...and considers throwing it away*

*but can't*

*after some tense indecision, puts it back in with the others*

*sighs*

Anxious

Fri, 06 Jul 2007 04:42:15 GMT

*follows Peter outside from the kitchen*

*doesn't say anything*

*waits for him to storm off again, or shout at me*

A Break from all the Wedding Plans

Thu, 05 Jul 2007 02:21:46 GMT

*relaxing at home, sitting on the sofa with Peter, having the occasional sip of lager (thank god for the winery down the road that carries decent imports)*

*watching Creature Comforts*

*nudges Peter*

What if we were on there? What d'you reckon we'd be?

*looks you over thoughtfully, not quite able to suppress a cheeky grin*

They've never had a giraffe on yet, have they?

Organising Wedding Stuff

Fri, 29 Jun 2007 23:45:09 GMT

*going through Invitations list*

Peter? Does this look about right to you?

my relatives (Tessie, Sylvia, Darren, Margaret, Nan, aunties, uncles, cousins, etc)
Ianto and the Torchwood crew
Kevin
Pfred
Martha
Doctor Holloway
Penelope (if she's still getting post wherever she is)
Reinette
Doctor Joyce (we should, really, it's his house)
Bellino and the Ood (although they'll already be there)
Giac and Henriette (address?)

talk to Kevin re: having Harley be the ringbearer - ask Pfred to be flower girl?

*watches you look over the names - pause, hesitantly*

Are you sure there's no one else you want to invite? No family, or anything? No one you even want to tell?

Sleeping in the Soft Sea Air

Thu, 10 May 2007 04:34:03 GMT

*snug in bed with Peter in our room at the bed and breakfast...wrapped in each other's arms under the clean crisp air-laundered sheets; a gentle breeze from the open window playing across the moonlit room*

There is a city of tents stretched out below, as far as the eye can see. The scene is familiar...but looking closer, it is not deserted this time, but bustling with activity.

Closer in, on ground level, I see my old boy scout troop busily dismantling the tents. The leader comes by and tells me we're breaking camp, but I hear a sudden noise and go inside the nearest tent to find a little sandy-haired lad sat in the middle of it, crying.

I put a hand on his shoulder and tell him to get up; we're moving on. He looks up and tips me a cheeky wink, and then grabs an empty birdcage - door opened wide - from behind him, and runs out the door.

I follow, but can't find him in the crowd. By this time most of the tents have been taken down, and when I look behind me I see a length of rope attatched to the one I just left. I pull on the rope, and the whole structure collapses in a heap.

I roll it up and kick it down an incline, into a ditch with hundreds of other tents, already rolled up and discarded. I see a lion in a Big Kat bulldozer on the opposite bank pouring dirt over the lot, and slowly walk back to find my troop.

They've vanished, but I do see a familiar skinny figure sitting on the edge of an old horse-drawn cart. I hop up beside Peter and he murmurs something drowsily before lying back in the soft hay and going to sleep. I follow him down, laying my head on his shoulder, and -

*I wake up, opening my eyes to see Peter's sweet sleeping face on the pillow beside me*

*smiles*

*kisses him gently, not enough to wake him, and snuggles in close, dropping off to sleep again almost at once*

*doesn't remember the dream the next morning*

shuffles papers

Sat, 28 Apr 2007 06:52:37 GMT

Kevin? When you've got a moment, could I have a word?

Breaking Point

Fri, 20 Apr 2007 19:28:18 GMT

*looking all over the house for Dad's old coin collection*

*wants to give it to Harley someday, but can't remember where I put it*

*pawing through desk drawers and cupboards, getting more and more frantic...Dad gave Darren his watch, but at least he gave me the coins because I used to like playing with them as a kid*

*tries to calm down and think of the last place I saw them...they're not in the safe deposit box...coins going back to Roman times, and one or two from even before that...*

*goes to the closet, sorting through boxes, opening one marked 'Goodwill'...and gets a nasty shock*

*sees the clothes I was wearing when the Circus took me, covered with filthy bits of straw*

*stares for a few seconds...thought Peter got rid of them...is sure he did...and then finds a note from Tom sticking out of one of the pockets: 'souvenir boss HAR HAR'*

*suddenly jumps back, yelping in pain and surprise as something long and thin falls over and whacks me on the head*

*picks up the cattle prod, face hard and expressionless for several seconds...and then explodes in a rage, battering the box with the prod, ripping the cardboard to shreds; tearing the clothes apart and smashing the prod into bent twisted bits of metal*

*finally slumps down against the wall, spent, head in hands...surrounded by the carnage, panting and trembling and struggling for control*

Harley's Baby Book again

Wed, 18 Apr 2007 21:03:40 GMT

*writes*

Well, after a bit of a scare we've got our little lad back again. He seems none the worse for it, though he was a bit wary of me just afterwards. I don't blame him if that thing was wearing my face to frighten him. He does seem a bit more quiet, though, like he's trying to work something out.

It could just be his way of dealing with it, though. He's a pretty sensitive little chap. He saw a cartoon where a baby rabbit got its carrot stolen and cried for ages. Saw another one where a rooster lost its voice and cried for an hour. Poor sweet kid. Then when he was in the coma I guess someone told him that babies hatch out of eggs, and he thought that meant the breakfast eggs in the kitchen. (Took us twenty minutes to calm him down -- he thought we were eating babies every morning. Thankfully he hasn't asked where babies do come from yet though -- think I'll let Peter handle that one if he does.)

He also cried over a book his teacher read to him. Gave him a pretty bad nightmare. Still haven't tracked it down, and I haven't seen his teacher for a bit either, come to that. Might look into finding someone else anyway -- I don't think this Mr Logan bloke believes Harley's just a few months old. I think he thinks he's backwards or stupid, and he's not. For just a little fellow he isn't half clever. Heard him ask Kevin the other day if fish ever got thirsty, or if the heater ever ran out of breath.

I don't know where we'd get the money for a teacher, though -- that Logan bloke was on the Gates' payroll. I've got an idea, but I'll have to run it by Peter and Kevin first before we

*gets up for a glass of water*

Vigil...again

Mon, 09 Apr 2007 08:09:43 GMT

*sits by Harley's bedside*

*reads him stories about Noddy and Olivia and Alexander; about Sneetches and woozles and pale green pants and dogs that have parties in trees*

*sings him some of his favourite lullabyes that mum used to sing to me*

*sighs wearily and strokes his hair back from his forehead*

I love you sweetheart. Please come back.

*wipes eyes and resumes singing*

Nightmare - redux

Sun, 01 Apr 2007 00:29:33 GMT

*asleep, crying softly*

I'm sorry...I'm so sorry, Peter, I took it back, I tried to take it back...

*whole body tenses suddenly, writhing against some unseen foe...and then collapses back into near-silent tears*

I know. I know I do...you're right. I deser -

*tenses again, limbs and back as rigid as steel...and collapses again*

I'm sorry I'm sorry oh god please Peter don't be dead I don't want you to be dead...

Harley's baby book

Fri, 30 Mar 2007 05:57:21 GMT

*sits at the table, scribbling again*

Our Harley got his first piece of mail the other day - a postcard from Jimmy. I think every single person in the house has read it to him at least twice. Now he wants to learn to read, and he's hardly giving poor Kevin any peace. It's a bit unsettling how quickly he's progressing -- he's already starting to recognise letters, and points and yells out his own name whenever he sees an 'H' on the telly or something.

He's still as mad for the painting as ever, and has been trying to paint his football, with limited success -- he can't quite grasp how the paint keeps wearing off it.

There's a lot that's strange and wonderful and unusual about a kid like Harley, but he's such a sweet little chap that you forget how special he is -- until something reminds you. Such as:

He moves and gestures exactly like Peter; is the image of our Darren when he smiles; and speaks like a native South African. (picked it up from Kevin; wonder will it stick?)

Watching Kevin teach him how to wash his hands, how to brush his teeth -- and how to shave.

Watching him create artwork in ten minutes I could never hope to match in ten years -- and then watching him cry in frustration because he can't tie his shoelaces. (Know just how he feels. Took me ages to learn.)

So far no more word re: the Circus. Really hope what Jimmy and Kevin said about him being safe is true. If we're all very lucky, the worst thing we'll have to protect him from now is knowing how he came to be, and came into our lives -- but we can't hide it from him forever. He's already got a fascination for baby pictures, and it's only a matter of time before he starts asking why there aren't any baby photos of him about. I only hope we know what to say when

*stops writing and puts pen down, rubbing face tiredly*

Despondent

Tue, 20 Feb 2007 08:54:23 GMT

*in the bathroom adjoining our bedroom*

*curled up in one corner of the shower, naked, hugging knees to chest, letting the water fall against me without really feeling it*

*staring into space*

Beware a Mother Bear

Mon, 19 Feb 2007 01:50:14 GMT

*bursts into the other room and finds Kevin just putting Penny down for a nap*

Kevin. We need to talk. Now.

*imparts by body language and expression that it might be better to talk outside in the corridor*

Taking Notes

Sun, 18 Feb 2007 05:49:25 GMT

*sits at the table in Doctor Joyce's study, scribbling in the least frilly-looking 'Baby's First Year' scrapbook I could find*

Our baby Harley was born on: ????
Came home from the hospital on: *fills in the date we found him*
First solid food: Applesauce.
First tooth came in on: Always had a full set.

*skips all the ones about first sitting up, rolling over, crawling and walking, etc, and skips some others, realising I'll have to consult Kevin for them*

First word/s: 'Mummy' and 'Jimmy'
First sentence: 'Can I have some cake?' (and second, and third, and twentieth...)
Favorite food: Cake.
Favorite color: All of them.
Favorite toy: His paints. Although Kevin got him a football a while ago and he seems fairly keen.
Favorite clothes: His railroad train jim-jams.
Favorite song: Mum's lullabyes and 'The Lion Sleeps Tonight'.

Notes: It's hard to fill in one of these things with a kid like Harley. But here goes. He's smart, a bit cheeky (wonder where he got that from?), and so good-natured it's almost unreal. He likes games and hugs, even though he's either used to hugging Kevin or he doesn't know his own strength yet -- my ribs are sore for hours after a Harley hug-attack. He's a genius at painting, and a frighteningly quick learner -- in regular baby terms, he's only a few months old, and he's already starting to form complete sentences.

~~My only fear is that~~ ~~I wonder how he will react when we have to tell him how he came to~~ ~~I'm glad he doesn't know yet how he was~~ ~~If anyone with a grudge against the circus ever~~

I hope we can protect him.

Sneaking Cupid, Hidden Dragon

Thu, 15 Feb 2007 00:48:32 GMT

*creeps into our bedroom*

*takes out a box of Mars bars and arranges them carefully on the bed*

*stands back and admires the result...a picture of a heart with an arrow shot through it, drawn in Mars bars on a duvet canvas*

*the card shows a massive heart flanked by two little boy cherubs*

*to which two little police hats and badges have been drawn on*

*written inside the card*

Peter,

I can't believe I found a card with two blokes on it - they have them here, though. Got to love America.

But not half as much as I love you. You are my heart, you wily old copper.

Blythe

PS - Don't eat all the chocolate at once, you greedy grubber, you.

*smiles, satisfied*

*sneaks back out*

Nightmare

Sat, 20 Jan 2007 03:03:09 GMT

*sleeps fitfully*

There is a city of tents stretching as far as the eye can see. All is completely silent, except for a very faint noise in the distance: someone screaming. It is coming from one of the tents.

Inside the tent is a cramped, filthy lion's cage. Inside the cage, a large, human-like lion is holding down a smaller, sandy blond figure; half-dressed and chained to the bars by a cuff around his ankle. His screams have given way to hoarse, unlovely sobs that shudder through his whole body. The lion looks up with large sad eyes, as though in apology...but does not release his prisoner.

Eventually, the lion slinks off into the shadows. The figure pulls himself tight into a foetal position, trembling with sickness and exhaustion.

As the picture begins to fade from view, the figure looks up.

It's Harley.

*gasps awake, crying out and drenched in sweat*

Trying Not to Lose It

Thu, 11 Jan 2007 08:25:33 GMT

*enters the study*

*goes to the window and clutches the sill for support*

*leans forehead against the cold hard glass, closing my eyes tight*

*tries to get myself under control*

Evading Arrest

Wed, 03 Jan 2007 05:42:02 GMT

*sneaks into Daniel Joyce's study, clutching the stolen goods and a water pistol*

*looks around, taking in the layout and hunting for tactical advantages*

*spots a small cabinet underneath one of the bookshelves that Peter will never think I could fit into, and squeezes inside*

*carefully closes the door*

*checks watch - I still have two minutes left on my head start*

*sets about disposing of the evidence*

*unwraps the Mars bar I took from the full box on Peter's dresser and crams it into my mouth*

*huddles in the cabinet, chewing laboriously and clutching the water pistol close in classic robber fashion, waiting for the copper to find me*

Trouble Writing

Wed, 20 Dec 2006 00:25:31 GMT

*sits at a table by the fireplace, head in hand, surrounded by several bits of crumpled paper*

Thank you all for coming. It means a lot to see all of you here. You have provided us both with as much care and support as though we were related to you by blood, and ~~I shall always remember your kindness~~ ~~I will forever appreciate~~

I can't begin to describe ~~what this means~~ ~~what I feel~~

To say that I feel lucky to be marrying this man is an understatement. He is the warmest, kindest, bravest human being I've ever met. And he has cared for and supported me in ways which some of you know, but cannot begin to appreciate. He saved my life...

*gets choked up and decides to try again later - pulls a fresh piece of paper out and starts writing a letter*

Teresa Harris
28 Bramley Terrrace
Bristol BS1 1QB

Dear Tessie,

I know I haven't written in a while -- sorry; things have been unusually busy since I wrote you last. For one thing I'm in San Fransisco now (yes, America! Mum would be so pleased). My partner and I came here on a case, and what with one thing and another, we've ended up staying far longer than we thought we would. No complaints, though; the weather is lovely (even the fog!) and the people are very hospitable and kind.

Speaking of my partner: well, this will probably be a surprise to you, but we're getting married soon. I should have written you earlier, so that you'd know how much this means to me...how much he means to me...but I can only try now to tell you how happy I am. Peter has been there for me in ways I can't even begin to describe to you, and I know if you met him you'd see what a brilliant, amazing person he is. "A real keeper", as Mum used to say.

I wish you could come to the ceremony, too. It would be really good to have you there, but I know how busy you are with Steve and the kids, and your work. And besides, the location is a bit difficult to get to -- sort of like that little holiday island Mum and Dad used to take us all to that you could only reach by ferry. Only more so. A lot more so.

While we're on the subject of surprises, Peter and I ~~have adopted a boy from a local agency~~ ~~are fostering a special needs boy in the community~~ ~~have joined a mentoring programme here in town~~

*crumples paper and adds it to the pile, sighing in frustration*

Vigil

Sun, 10 Dec 2006 21:46:36 GMT

*sits at Harley's bedside, rubbing my forehead and watching him sleep; all manner of tubes and wires running in and out of him*

*looks alternately troubled and completely spent*

*sighs, not noticing how eerie our facial resemblance makes this picture look...almost like the old double-exposure photograph of the man staring at his own dead body in a casket*

*gazes down on this oversized child I never could have expected or been prepared for, my thoughts unreadable*

*yawns, but stays awake*

A Cage Again

Thu, 26 Oct 2006 07:20:36 GMT

*stands in Dr Joyce's lab, arms folded*

*Jimmy is locked in the Faraday cage, bound hand and foot to prevent Bruce from hurting his body before we can get them switched back*

*stares at the helpless captive with an odd, hard-to-read expression*

First trip teleporting

Wed, 18 Oct 2006 07:59:37 GMT

*abruptly appears with di_carlisle on stepping discs in Miss Gate's unused fish kitchen*

*sways unsteadily for a moment before regaining balance*

*awed and somewhat terrified giggles*

Oh shit - ! I didn't think it would be so...are we really here?

*gets a whiff and covers nose immediately*

Oh god...what's that smell?

Restless

Sun, 24 Sep 2006 17:58:56 GMT

*sits propped up in bed. looks antsy*

*has polished off a plateful of hospital food without even noticing how crap it tasted, and is currently at work demolishing a bunch of grapes someone left on the bed table*

*flips through the channels on the overhead telly. finds nothing interesting and switches it off*

*takes the newspaper di_carlisle brought in but has already read it. rips out a sheet and starts folding up the fifth origami monkey of the day*

*finishes monkey. places it on the bed table with the others. checks clock*

*sighs*