A/N: This short little 'one-shot' is the result of a March Writing Challenge that was held on the Torchwood Australia Forum, earlier this year. In the challenge, we were given the first line of the piece, and the last line. How we linked them, and the story we told in between, was completely up to us. This one came out light, fun, and with a distinctive Irish flavour... enjoy!
"And who might you be, traipsing around in my glen and ruinin' all my lovely shamrocks?"
"They're not shamrocks, they're clover leaves. And this isn't your glen, little friend," Jack stooped lower, to approximate eye level with the elfin creature that was squinting up at him, clearly displeased.
Relaxing his stance, the creature dropped its arms from its hips and waved its hand dismissively.
"All the same, Otherworlder... ye're clover, be my shamrocks; my clover be ye're undoing. I suppose ye've come for the treasure, then?"
"Treasure? Really? Are we playing that game? You and I both know you're no leprechaun. My guess is that you're a shape-shifter, and you've just read one too many legends of the Emerald Isle."
The elfin creature winked up at Gwen, who stood covering a smile with a strategically placed hand. She'd seen many things in her time with Torchwood, but this encounter definitely belonged in the record books. They'd come to Ireland in answer to a late-night 'ping' on Tosh's monitor. Some kind of unknown force-field had been emanating from the region known as County Kerry, and Jack had booked tickets on the first flight out of Cardiff. While Ireland had always been on her list of places to visit, she hadn't really planned on finding any part of it actually inhabited by wee folk in clothing like something out of a classic Disney film. Yet here she stood, staring down at one, in the middle of stone age ruins half-hidden in overgrowth.
She had to admit, though, he was a charming little fellow. And he certainly had Jack's jaw pulsing, which usually meant that there was a raw nerve somewhere under all his defenses that was getting scraped.
Jack withdrew up to his full height again, and shook off the air of impatience. If the creature wanted a game, he would oblige. But only up to the point that the 'leprechaun' tipped his hand, and the tech that was causing the force-field, was revealed.
"I'll say it again, Otherworlder. If it's treasure ye be wantin', ye'll need to be followin' me. If ye can keep up, it's yours! What d'ye say?"
"What do you say, Gwen? Are you up for a tumble in the glen with me?" Jack turned his most disarming grin on her, at full wattage. She could see the gears in his brain clicking away behind the sparkling eyes, but was content to wait and see where this adventure would lead.
Used to the open flirtation, she drew in close to him and with a suggestive tone, said, "Like the leprechaun said, Jack, it all depends on whether you can 'keep up'."
"Count on it," was the quiet reply.
The undercurrent between them leapt and crackled, until a familiar heat unfurled itself in her stomach. She laughed low and the sound gave Jack pleasure. Seconds later they were both bounding through the field, trying to keep the elfin creature in sight.
