askgwencooper:
Truth be told, Torchwood was ‘more direct’ than the South Wales Police Department in every way Gwen could think of. The were a small ad-hoc sort of team of specialists thrown together to deal with everything out of the ordinary.
Gwen was annoyed enough by the confirmation that she’d come all this way to argue jurisdiction. Tempting as it was in that moment, she wouldn’t let this become worse or more complex by getting into semantics so she unhappily chewed on her lower lip until the moment where it would have been fair to retort with something biting had passed.
James’ reference to her gun had vaguely seemed to imply that he was unarmed himself but part of Gwen’s brain, still hardwired to think as a copper, doubted it even if she wasn’t inclined to press. They had no reason to issue threats or become hostile towards each other. Strange and annoying as things were, this was still only a discussion between two people apparently trying to do their best for the same creature.
She knew what he was talking about, of course, but wasted a good few seconds pretending she didn’t in order to stall. ‘Reptilian’ would be the best way to describe it but the fact that James failed to identify the species by name was a point Gwen intended to use in her favour.
“Coworker of mine is calling it Yoshi until we think of something better,” she admitted finally, knowing that thinking of the creature as a pet was a bad idea but needing a name for reference all the same. “And it might be from Earth but I doubt it’s from this century on it and I’m sorry but faling through the spatial-temporarl Rift in Cardiff Bay makes it ours.”
He frowned, reading her body language and dismissing it with a growing annoyance. Helen was always more patient with these things, even if she had perhaps a better diplomacy. James was direct, often seen as bossy, but for things to be done, one needed a firm hand. The fact the Sanctuaries were a worldwide network didn't help. The bigger the network, the harder to keep control of it. Helen, fortunately, made a wonderful job of it and the other directors were not so bad themselves.
He held a long-suffering sigh but kept his unwavering eyes on her.
Yoshi? Well there was a reference that didn't find its mark, old man as he was, anchored into his archaic habits.
"It's hardly a matter of property and this creature is certainly not yours. He's his own self.” His features softened from his early frown and he almost looked more a professor than the field agent he was playing at right now. He usually stayed behind his desk nowadays, though he personally was making sure every resident was well every day. The hunts, the chase, however, was left to younger, more abled bodies. “Tell me, do you know what he eats, how his organism functions and what he needs to survive? Probably not, which cannot be held against you, it is not your job, after all. It is, however, mine."
He hated these matters. It never seemed to work out as easily as one would wish. Even if he understood where she was coming from. He would react the same if an unknown organization came about and asked for a creature he captured. But here was the problem. Torchwood captured. The Sanctuary saved, protected. And the rumors on Torchwood - many of which he preferred not to believe until confirmation - were rarely positive.
"He needs a place to live where we can reproduce his habitat and make sure he is protected. Torchwood cares for humanity first, we make sure every species of this planet receives an equal treatment and protection. Please, release him to us."
He shifted on his feet again, his fingers twitching. He rubbed slow circle against his thumb with his index finger, observing her.
"If this does not convince you of how this meeting is not a competition but a worry for the health of your prisoner, I invite you to follow me."
