"How do you like your eggs, Ethan?" Miranda called out from the kitchen.
"Scrambled, thanks!" Donovan shouted from the bedroom. With damp hair, he walked out into the lounge. "Can I give you a hand?"
She smiled. "I can manage. I suggest you wait until we get upstairs for coffee. Juice?"
"Please," he said, sitting down at her small table. At least he'd had the foresight to bring up a change of clothes for today. He picked up his mobile and started scrolling through his e-mail. He was always amazed that no matter where he was inside the Hub, he always had full signal strength. He raised an eyebrow at some of the field office reports.
"Is anything amiss back home?" Miranda asked. She set his plate in front of him along with the glass of juice and then went back into the kitchen for her own food. She sat down across from him.
"No," he said, picking up his fork. "MiB's trucking along. I don't know whether or not to be chuffed that it's without me."
Miranda's egg was halfway to her mouth. "That British expression sounded quite strange in your accent, Ethan."
"What? Chuffed? I like it. It's a fun word. I'm going to take it back to the States with me," he said with a smile. He nibbled on his toast. His ex-wife was a horrible cook so breakfast had always been his responsibility. He hoped that what's his name knew how to cook otherwise the man would starve. "Been a long time since a woman's cooked me breakfast."
"It's been a long time since I had someone to cook breakfast for," she replied. The two of them gave each other small smiles.
Donovan turned his attention back to his e-mail, continuing to scroll through the messages on his phone. Among the messages from the field offices and other MiB employees, there were a few personal e-mails. One from his ex-wife, asking if he would like to bring a guest to her upcoming wedding to what's his name but that wasn't the reason he let out a sigh.
"Something is amiss now?" Miranda asked, sipping her juice.
"An e-mail from my youngest daughter, Rebecca. She just started her first year at Georgetown - prelaw," Donovan said.
Miranda heard the glint of fatherly pride. "And she wants money."
Donovan laughed. "Good guess. Yeah, she wants money. Probably asking me because her mother said no."
"And she knows you will say yes?" Miranda asked, eyes sparkling.
Donovan rolled his eyes a bit. "I don't have the greatest relationship with my kids. This is the first time I've heard from Becca in over a month. My divorce was pretty civil but I don't want it to look like I'm trying to buy her off."
"You've not spoken with your daughter in over a month?" Miranda asked, surprised. "Is she your only child?"
Donovan shook his head. "I have three - another daughter and a son - Kelly and Joshua. Becca's the youngest."
"When did you last speak with them?"
"Directly? Got to be over a year now. I get e-mails sometimes and I got some text messages on Father's Day," Donovan shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "They're busy with their own lives. They work hard."
Miranda set down her fork and wiped her mouth. She looked at him seriously. "May I say something, Ethan?"
"Go for it," he said.
"It is not my place to say and I hope you do not think I am overstepping but I implore you, Ethan," she said. Her voice started out softly but became more and more emphatic. "You must do whatever you can to repair your relationship with your children. You must get to know them as people and spend as much time with them as you possibly can, become a real part of their lives. Before you know it, my friend, you will be an old man - sick and dying. You will be facing the darkness beyond and no one makes that journey wishing they had spent more time working and less time with their children."
Donovan stared at her a little gobsmacked. He let out a small, nervous laugh. "Sound advice from the woman who can't die."
He immediately knew he'd said the wrong thing. A grief and sadness passed through her eyes. For just a moment, she seemed vulnerable and Donovan couldn't believe how wrong that looked.
In a sad, quiet voice she said, "I raised a son once. I held him as he breathed his first breath in this world and I held him as he breathed his last. All the moments in between were the greatest gift of my life."
Everything Jack and Miranda said about themselves was always vague and they never answered questions. This was the most honest thing he'd ever heard out of Miranda's mouth and it surprised the hell out of him. He decided to repay the gift with some honesty of his own.
"They resent me. I was always missing this recital or that game when they were growing up. It's too late," Donovan said, sadly. He shook his head. He was surprised he heard from his children as often as he did. On Father's Day, when his phone had beeped three times, he'd been surprised. "They didn't need me back then and they don't need me now." And now they probably don't want me…
"It will only be too late when you are dead. And every child needs their father," Miranda said, seriously. "Tempus fugit."
Time flees… "You're a real ray of sunshine, you know that, Miranda?" he said, trying to lighten the mood.
She smiled. "Many people think immortality takes away one's awareness of death, in reality it is the opposite. We understand, perhaps even more so than mortals, the fragility of life, the passage of time… and what is most important."
"So you think I should send her the money?" Donovan asked, raising his eyebrow and smiling.
"Perhaps with the small condition of having dinner with you to tell you about her first few weeks at university?" Miranda replied, also with a smile.
Donovan reached out and squeezed Miranda's hand and the two of them resumed their breakfast. Miranda picked up the plates but Donovan stopped her. "You cooked, I clean."
Miranda watched him as he rinsed the dishes and put them into the dishwasher. There was a small knock at her door. She looked at Donovan who shrugged and returned to his chore.
"Come in," she called out.
Jack opened the door and stepped into the lounge. He cast Donovan a small disapproving look before turning his attention to his second. "Sandra and Sean Wilson are dead and the infected staff are getting worse."
Miranda uttered an ancient curse. Donovan rinsed his hands and turned as he dried them.
"Has anyone recovered? Or even improved?" he asked.
"I don't know," Jack said. "I want you on the horn with that doctor over there. What'd you say his name was?"
"Cameron MacDonald," Miranda provided.
"Yeah, him. I want everything they've got. You might not think this is Torchwood but I'm not going to turn a blind eye to three dead kids," Jack said.
"I'm not turning a blind eye, Jack," Miranda said, darkly. Her tone raised the hairs on Donovan's arms.
"Don't be so defensive, Will," Jack said, holding up his hands. "I just want this to be a little more proactive now. Okay?"
Miranda nodded. "I'll be up in a few minutes."
Jack cast Donovan another glance before he turned and left the room.
"He fucking hates me," Donovan said once the door shut. He shook his head and draped the tea towel over the faucet.
"Goddess below, Ethan, what gives you that idea?" she gasped.
"I keep fucking everything up. I'm surprised I haven't gotten someone killed. Shit, I'm surprised you and him have let me stick around!" he said, draping the tea towel over the faucet.
Miranda got up from the small table and walked into the kitchen. She put her arms around Donovan's neck. "Whinging like a babe taken from its mother's tit you are, Ethan Donovan. Yes, you had a rocky start but so do all Torchwood field operatives. For someone with limited alien experience, you're doing remarkably well."
He sighed and ran his fingers through her hair. "You say the sweetest things."
"You think this is lip service?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow at him. "Yes, there are areas for improvement but that is true with any of us. You are here for a purpose - to gain experience so that you may benefit your own organisation - and you are working towards that goal. You've made a lot of progress."
"I feel like I'm barely keeping up," Donovan admitted.
"So do we all," Miranda said with a small smile. "You're doing fine."
Donovan leaned, kissing her. He hugged her to him, settling into the embrace for a moment. She kissed his neck and pulled back. "I need to ring Doctor MacDonald. I'll see you upstairs."
She let go of his hands and picked up her sword from the coffee table.
"Why do you carry a sword around with you?" he asked. His curiosity finally getting the better of him.
"For my protection," Miranda said. It was another one of her cryptic and vague answers. She headed up towards the main Hub. Donovan shook his head and hurried after her.