“Ah, that’s the problem. I’m not exactly a civilian.” Summer offered the other bottle, watching him. She supposed it was reasonable that he should dismiss her; neither of them knew anything about the other. As far as he was concerned, she was a really nosy tourist.
“My name is Summer. Summer Rainault. I’m a consultant for SHIELD. That explain why it matters to me?”
Briefly, there was a dark glint in his eye. Typical SHIELD. They were practically hand in and with UNIT, as far as he was concerned. “No, it doesn’t, because even SHIELD knows that there is a Torchwood Institute within Cardiff and there is one never-dying Captain Jack Harkness who is apart of it. In fact, they should have my picture on record from one of my last encounters with them,” he replied simply, taking the other bottle as he finished.
It wasn’t that he doubted that she worked for SHIELD. She had the look to her and the fact that the pain was numbed slightly when she touched his shoulder. SHIELD always had the people with those damned gifts. “Or am I mistaken? Is it only a couple of your higher ups who know of us?” He flashed a cocky grin as he cracked the fresh bottle open and took a drink. His voice still hurt, that was certain. “Regardless, this is a Torchwood matter and we don’t mix well with UNIT, so why would we mix well with SHIELD?”
“That’s … a lot of hostility.” Summer blinked a couple times. “I’m just a SAR consultant. I’m not privy to a lot of the information. And if Tony knows we’ve never had reason to discuss it.”
Great, this was going to be one of those times where her curiosity was engaged and never going to be satisfied. So frustrating. She sighed. “I’m not trying to butt in on your … operation here, okay? I’m not here to check on you, or anything like that. I was visiting Wales, and your … death gave me a fucking headache, okay?”