Character study John Hart/Corwen Black
Set sometime after the events of 'Exit Wounds'. John Hart is still exploring Earth in the 21st century.
He'd met her in a bar. Well, to be fair that's where he met most potential partners. But Corwen was different from the norm. That's what had drawn him to her in the first place. A mental glitch on the radar when she entered the bar, sweeping in with authority and grace, every hot blooded person's eyes locked on her. She dismissed them with a wave of her hand, and as if a switch had been flicked off, every head turned back to their drinks and conversation.
Every head apart from Captain John Hart's, who was impressed. He grinned, slow clapped and nodded his head towards her. She walked up towards him, settling into the bar stool next to him. She stared straight ahead as she spoke, “So what're we drinking, gorgeous?” Her voice was velvet, gliding through him sinuously over every shattered nerve.
“Anything you've got, sweetheart, as long as you keep talking like that,” he answered, eyes sparkling, chewing on his lower lip, mouth quirked in a grin. She ordered two large vodka tonics with whiskey chasers from the dumbstruck barman. As he set the drinks before them, Corwen nodded in recognition, then waved the barman away without paying. She turned finally to face John. He smiled broadly. “Clever little parlour trick you have there. I'm guessing some sort of glamour?” He squinted at her quizzically. She smiled back beatifically. Eyes lazily roaming his body, cool appraisal. “What do you think, time traveller?” she said.
He raised his eyebrow, and looked amused. “Well, given you can pick that up, you've got handy glamour skills, and those beautiful blue peepers certainly aren't your real eye colour, and are most probably full lens contacts, let me guess.” He pulled back in his chair to eye her up properly. “Cyanopica? Or near enough anyway. Least the Pyrrhocorax system. Am I right? You're a long way from home, lady. I'm presuming that is your correct designation? You strike me as female anyway.”
“Well, you see travelling boy, I'm Earth born. Which is more than we can say about you. Am I right?” She grinned at him. “Oh yes, very much female. As much female as you are male.” She sniffed at him. “And incidentally, you may want to amend those pheromones a little. You stink of sex.”
John laughed loudly, and slapped his thigh. “Well, aren't you just straight to the point? I like you.” He rubbed his right hand on his knee to prove there was nothing on it, then stuck it out to shake. “Captain John Hart at your service.”
She copied his move, and shook his hand firmly, “Well, that'd explain the military chic. Nice look, by the way, suits your bone structure. I'm Corwen,” she grinned.
“Oh cute and funny. Doubly blessed,” John smiled, eyes dancing. The night was looking up. He tilted his head to one side and checked her out again, making no pretence that that was exactly what he was doing. Long black hair that reflected the dancing bar lights in purples and blues, dark eyes with bright blue contacts. Tall, and with curves in all the right places, her long black dress with the high feathered collar clinging to every one of them. John raised his eyebrow, “Make that more blessed than anyone has a right to be. More parlour tricks?”
She snorted a laugh, “Nice. Is that what you say to all the girls you meet? No wonder you're sat on your own. No, not more glamour, not that I should care what you think. Just good genetics.”
John stroked along his jawline with his hand, “Really? Got some of those myself.”
Corwen grinned, “Seem to have bypassed the code for knowing your boundaries somewhere though, eh Captain Hart?”
“Eh, I get by,” he shrugged.
They settled into just attending to their own drinks for the next few moments, both lost in thought. John suddenly sniffed loudly, breaking the silence. “So, fancy some mutual fun?”
“You haven't got a hope in hell of bedding me, soldier boy. And especially not given I clocked that lip gloss when I walked in. Beginner's trick.”
“Now that's just fighting talk. Stop it, you're turning me on.”
They both paused, looking serious for a minute. A couple of tense beats past, then just as quickly, they both cracked at the same time. They broke into broad smiles, bolted their remaining drinks, and headed out of the bar, falling into step together easily and comfortably. Corwen threw her right arm around John's shoulders, standing taller than him in both stature, and with the addition of heels. She pushed at him playfully, and he burst into giggles.
“We gotta' play 'strangers in a bar' more often, I've got the horn something chronic now, short arse.” she said laughing.
“Ah well, we'll have to see what pretty young things we can rustle up for you then, pet, eh? C'mon blue eyes, I need a drink.”
She pulled away from him, grinning. “I wasn't kidding about the pheromones y'know. You stink. Tone it down a little. Unless you want all the dogs in the neighbourhood following us home. And don't you dare start looking at me like that, smelly, no, that's not a good thing.”
They continued in the same vein the whole way down the main stretch of the town, loud and raucous and happy in the early evening air.