Written after episode 1 - and set just after the episode so technically a missing scene - because I couldn't stop myself. I saw their faces and I was gone. (Really hoping they're not doomed but it is the BBC and it is a WW1 drama but you never know...)
Anyway, enjoy!
She stayed by the fence long after the others had gone back, staring into the suffocating darkness and vaguely debating whether to have a cigarette and listening to the distant explosions that briefly illuminated the sky.
She heard the gentle pad of footsteps behind her on the grass but didn't both to turn.
"You shouldn't be out here this late you know." The voice was soft and Scottish and too familiar already. She inclined her head in his direction, sensing he'd come to stand beside her whether she wanted him to or not.
"You're out here." Her tone was challenging and he suspected that if he could see her properly her expression would be one of disdain, and boredom. He replied with a soft chuckle and pulled out his cigarettes, slowly lighting one, letting the crack and hiss of the match fill the silence.
"Could I have one, please?" She turned to look at him then, their eyes meeting as the small flame flickered. She inhaled deeply and let the smoke swirl up and above them. They stayed silent for several minutes, until they'd finished smoking, arms resting against the fence.
"You should ignore Miles too." His voice was softer this time and he glanced at the woman beside him, the light material of her uniform just visible in the dark.
She inhaled sharply and turned to him, this strange soldier that just always seemed to be there, "And tell me, is there anything I ought to do, or am allowed to do? Because between you and Matron, I'm not sure I should even be breathing without your permission." It came out louder than she had intended and in an almost breathless rush, her chest rising and falling against the rapid breaths she was now taking, her heart pounding. Of course he was trying to control her, that's all men ever wanted to do. They didn't want to talk or for her to talk or for her to ask questions… They wanted power and control and smiles, and god forbid she should think for herself. She thought of the metal band she'd thrown into the Channel and everything it had represented and dismissed the thought immediately. She was not going to dwell on that. Not now. Not ever again. And is if to reinforce that she felt the sharp pain in her ribs - not broken, just bruised, she really should have been more careful, what would her husband think - and straightened her back.
"Forgive me Miss Trevelyan. I meant no harm. It's just that I know how these men can be."
"Yes, I rather suppose you do…?" She trailed off, realising that she still didn't know his name, and not caring that he knew hers.
"Captain Gillan. Thomas," he smiled, knowing but not caring that she couldn't see.
"Well thank you for your concern Captain Gillan. I think I'll head back now before the others send out a search party." She tried to sound dismissive and bored, but it was nice to have people that worried about her. More than nice, in fact. She held out her hand and managed to suppress a shiver as large warm fingers gently wrapped around it, creating a flickering spark of heat deep within her, something she hadn't felt in a long time.
"A pleasure, Miss Trevelyan. Goodnight." She made a noise of assent in reply and slowly drew her hand away. He sighed as she walked away, stuffing his hands into his pockets and feeling that strange ache in his chest, the one he hadn't felt for far too long and trying desperately not to dwell on it, on what it could mean.
"Oh Captain?" His head shot up as she called over her shoulder. "It's Kitty," and with that he smiled and started to make his own way back to his tent.
Thanks for reading. Any feedback is always gratefully appreciated!