Work Text:
He's made it through grading only two papers when his phone buzzes. He ignores it, he has thirty-three more papers to go and he doesn't have time to tell Jack he isn't interested in going out for a drink tonight. Once he's done here (and provided he has brain cells that his incompetent students haven't destroyed), he'll curl up with Thoreau and a bottle of whiskey. Paper nine - a disheartening attempt to intelligently discuss theoretical physics without actually using grammatically correct sentences - is the straw that makes him pick up his phone, prepared to shove the rest of his work in the bin and go out after all.
The text isn't from Jack. He doesn't recognize the number or about half of the abbreviations, but he does recognize the fact that the sender is clearly female and in need of some sort of help. Cursing himself for not responding sooner, he pushes the button to call the unknown number - he'll worry about the strange impulse to offer aide to a stranger later. The voice that answers is young, slightly intoxicated, and doesn't seem surprised that a stranger is inquiring as to her current location.
He drives through the wet London streets rapidly, encouraging the girl (her name is Rose and her voice sings through his blood in a way he doesn't understand) to keep talking to him with the occasional grunt in response, though that doesn't seem to deter her from happily chattering on. She's standing on a street corner when he pulls up and her eyes reflect the car's beams causing him to think of exotic creatures from other worlds. She slides in next to him, her teeth chattering from the damp night even as she smiles at him, and he clenches his hands hard on the steering wheel, offering her a spot on his couch without even thinking and then being both relieved and terrified when she hesitates only slightly before saying yes.
When she wakes up he already has coffee and tea and three kinds of breakfast foods and she pads into his kitchen wearing his old shirt and he hardly dares to look up from the stove. Later he'll offer to drive her home and her eyes will turn distant and he'll suggest a film instead. Still later he'll hold her hand while she breaks down crying and even later he'll be right at her side when they go to collect her stuff at Jimmy's. But right now, she curls beneath the duvet on his couch, eyes closing before he hits the lights, and he stands in the doorway for a long, long time.