Characters: Harriet Derbyshire, Gerald Carter
Spoilers: To The Last Man, sort of.
Summary: Harriet Derbyshire must hide her attraction towards her charismatic boss.
Word Count: 400
Written For: m_findlow’s prompt ‘Torchwood, Harriet Derbyshire, secretly lusting for your boss,’ at fic_promptly.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters. They belong to the BBC.
Harriet is well aware of the rules regarding fraternisation between colleagues; they’d been drummed into her during orientation and training after she signed on with Torchwood. Technically, of course, she isn’t breaking any rules since nothing has actually happened between them, except inside her own head.
Besides, it isn’t just a colleague she’s been fantasising about with increasing regularity but her superior, Gerald Carter, head of Torchwood Three. No one could be further off limits than he, yet knowing that doesn’t stop her heart skipping a beat when Gerald approaches her with paperwork to be checked, or asks her to report on the results of her latest research project. In her mind, his questions are always about far more personal matters and she often has to force herself to pay attention to the words he’s saying rather than those she longs to hear.
She knows she needs to get a grip on herself before her lust-filled daydreams start to interfere with her work. She can’t afford to arouse the suspicions of her colleagues. Even though nothing is going on between them, even a hint of impropriety could damage Gerald’s career and his standing within the organisation, and the very last thing Harriet wishes to do is to cause any kind of harm to befall her charismatic and debonair boss.
Her desires must be kept secret, for Gerald’s sake if not for her own. She must appear calmly professional in his presence, no matter how deeply her body yearns for his touch, but it is so difficult to keep her eyes from straying to his strong, capable, hands, his eyes, his lips. Gerald is everything she’s ever dreamed of in a man; if only she had met him before she joined Torchwood; perhaps then things might have been different. But fate had decreed otherwise, so her dreams and fantasies will have to suffice until such time as she finds another man who can stir her, body and soul; one not involved with the organisation she has pledged her life to.
But alone in her bed at night, hidden from view by the shroud of darkness, she bites her lip to silence her sounds of pleasure as she touches herself with trembling fingers, imagining that it is not her own hand but Gerald’s that brings her to sweet, aching bliss. She would gladly surrender everything for a single night in his arms.