Fic: Map of the Problematique 2/? [G] m/m TW/HL/DW Crossover
Title: Map of the Problematique
Author: Aeron Lanart
Fandom(s): Highlander/Torchwood.Doctor Who
Characters: Jack Harkness, Methos, Eleventh Doctor, Siannon O'Niall (oifc)
Rating: Gen with m/m background
Warnings: Children of Earth compliant
Disclaimer: BBC own Torchwood and the Whoniverse,
Panzer/Davis own their concept of immortality and the other Highlander stuff except for Siannon.
Title is from the song of the same name by Muse
~ Chapter 2 ~
Siannon was greeted by a bright and clear Cardiff morning as she folded back the shutters on the bay windows. A crow was perched on one of the window boxes outside, watching as she carefully latched the shutters into their open position, more than likely hoping for a treat when she opened the window.
“Good morning,” she said, obliging the crow with a scatter of seeds on the window box.
“Caw!” the crow replied, bobbing its head before pecking at the seeds, eyeing her hopefully once they’d gone.
“No more this morning, I’m afraid.” She chuckled as the crow gave her a rather disgusted look before flapping away. The crow would be back later no doubt, just in time for lunch.
Siannon loved this time of day before everyone else arrived and the place was hers alone, it also gave her a feeling of kinship with Joe Dawson and the quiet times they’d shared at his bar. She had the added advantage of living in the spacious flat on the top floor of this building so she didn’t really have to go far to start opening up for the day if she wasn’t already out on Torchwood business. Sometimes Gwen or one of the others would drop in for breakfast on their way to St James’ but as it was Siannon’s day off she enjoyed her breakfast in splendid and comfortable isolation.
~*~
“Why here? Why now? And why on earth are we next to a…” The Doctor frowned, then squinted at the image on the viewscreen “...pub?”
Methos chuckled, and received a shove off the Doctor for his trouble, their blue lady knew him far too well. He took a closer look and realised he recognised the area. The TARDIS didn’t just know him and his penchant for beer, he suspected she’d been eavesdropping on his rare phone calls from the woman who most likely owned the place, or possibly a conversation with Jack. Jack, whose hand was still wrapped around his; he gave the hand a slight tug to get Jack’s attention.
“You know where this is, Jack. Zoom out a little would you, cariad glas?” The TARDIS obliged him.
“That’s the old Cardiff Bay Station House! It’s looking a lot better than the last time I saw it.”
“Same here. We can probably thank Siannon for that.”
“I intend to.” Jack reached back and patted the console. “Thanks, dear. You’ll love her when you meet her. Now shall we go and give Siannon a surprise?”
“We could, but he can’t, in case you’d forgotten,” said the Doctor as he indicated Methos.
“But you’re also forgetting that I’m very old, very sneaky and used to hiding in plain sight,” Methos replied with a grin. “I have a trick up my sleeve that I haven’t used since I joined you because I’ve not needed to. Plus it takes a bit more concentration than I’ve generally had free to use since then,” he said. Jack winked at him which Methos duly ignored, though with more effort than he hoped was obvious.
“A trick that will defeat that immortal radar system of yours? That’s rather useful and just a little bit clever, if you don’t mind me saying,” the Doctor commented as he turned to face them with a grin.
Jack shrugged. “I would have just said ‘neat trick’.” Methos elbowed him, he thought rather more gently than Jack deserved.
“That’s because you’ve got no imagination,” Methos said.
“That’s not what you said last night,” Jack replied
“True,” Methos conceded with a slight, almost secret, smile only to be answered by Jack’s megawatt grin that was anything but secret.
“Or the night before...” added Jack as his grin softened, becoming more personal, more intimate and Methos felt his smile widen in response as his focus narrowed, filtering out almost everything but Jack.
“Also true,” he said as he moved infinitesimally closer to Jack, more a shift of balance and stance than an actual step. “OK, maybe you’ve just got a one track mind.”
“Are you complaining?” Jack asked. Methos met his eyes, aware that Jack was searching his face for a sign that he’d misstepped, more fragile beneath the surface than most people would think from the outward face that Jack presented to the world. Methos felt privileged that he was one of the few who had been - and still was - allowed to see that. Ianto had been another, which was probably why Jack was feeling unsure now they were back here, in Cardiff, where every corner must remind him of what he had lost; no, what they had lost. Methos took Jack’s hand, dropped a kiss into the palm and folded his fingers around it, before taking that hand in both of his own.
“Do I look like I’m complaining?” It was almost a whisper, but they were close enough that Jack would be able to feel what he said against his skin even if he couldn’t actually hear what Methos had said.
“Now that you mention it, no...”
Much to Methos’ annoyance, and no doubt Jack’s also, the Doctor chose that moment to interrupt.
“Knock it off you two. Places to go, people to see, remember?”
“But...” Methos placed a finger on Jack’s lips, partly to shut him up but also partly as a reminder that they had plenty of time to revisit the anticipated conclusion to the conversation. Plus, the Doctor had a point and here in the TARDIS Methos was willing to admit that.
“He’s right, Jack. Now shush.” Jack shrugged, but didn’t say anything in reply though he did start kissing Methos’ fingers where they lay on his lips. Methos moved his hand, a lot slower than he probably should have done, but… he gave himself a mental nudge. Jack’s nearness was distracting, even though he was mostly used to it. “Hey, I need to concentrate and I can’t when you’re doing that, so go and make yourself scarce for a minute, there’s a good boy.” Methos gave Jack a gentle shove in the direction of the stairs, determined not to get distracted again. He’d been serious about the concentration needed in order to dampen the external signs of his quickening, especially if he was to conceal himself from someone who was as old, and who knew him as well, as Siannon.
“Don’t you just hate it when he plays the age card?” The Doctor commented in a stage whisper as Jack joined him at the bottom of the steps.
“I heard that!” Methos said to their backs as he hung over the railing.
“You were supposed to. Come on Jack, let’s leave him alone to perform his little trick. We can wait outside.” The door closed behind them, leaving Methos alone in the TARDIS. He sat down in one of the seats that surrounded the console and leaned back. He smiled.
“I suppose I’d best get on with this, but between you and me, my girl, I’m afraid I might be rather out of practice.” The lights in the console room shimmered slightly and Methos couldn’t decide whether the TARDIS was laughing at him or offering encouragement. “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he muttered as he closed his eyes and turned his focus inwards and down.
When he exited the TARDIS Jack and the Doctor were leaning on the railings at the street corner. Jack looked rather wistful, which Methos understood as soon as he raised his eyes to see what held Jack’s attention. The Millennium Centre. The inscription that faced the Plas couldn’t be seen from their direction, or this distance, but they both knew it anyway. Methos walked towards them, wrapping his arms around Jack and resting his head on Jack’s shoulder.
“Creu Gwir Fel Gwydr O Ffwrnais Awen,” Methos said. Jack kissed his forehead gently, and replied,
“In these Stones Horizons Sing.”
To Methos’ relief the Doctor let them share the moment without interrupting and it was only when Jack straightened, and Methos loosened his arms that he spoke.
“Why doesn’t my TARDIS translate Welsh any more? At least I presume that was Welsh.” He sounded plaintive, almost as if he’d discovered a friend sneaking around behind his back. Methos supposed he almost had in a way and deserved an explanation, in this case at least.
“I asked her not to if it was a personal thing, she mostly gets it right,” Methos said as he squeezed Jack’s hand.
“Oh.” The Doctor still appeared to be a disappointed as he glanced over his shoulder at the TARDIS and ran a hand through his hair with a distracted expression on his face, which then cleared to be replaced by a smile. Methos suspected she had given the Doctor a metaphorical and telepathic kick. “Oh! Well that’s OK then, I suppose. But...”
Methos forestalled the Doctor’s next slew of questions by answering the one he thought was the most obvious. “It’s the inscription from the Millennium Centre, I thought you would recognise it, you’ve parked opposite the place more than once.”
The Doctor peered in the direction of the Millennium centre and the Plas. “Ah,” he said.
“You didn’t notice did you?” Methos asked.
The Doctor shook his head, but had the grace to look shamefaced about it. Methos decided he could be forgiven and offered another nugget of information.
“The Welsh means “Creating Truth Like Glass From Inspiration's Furnace” if you’re interested.”
“Thanks. I think it sounds better in Welsh.”
And that, Methos realised, was the closest the Doctor was going to come to saying he approved of the TARDIS acquiescing to Methos’ request. He smiled in acknowledgement, the Doctor grinned in return.
“And now,” the Doctor said, “I think we have a friend of yours to surprise. Shall we?”
Together, the three of them headed towards the door of the pub that was, somewhat reassuringly in Methos’ opinion, called Y Ddraig Goch.
Crossposted from https://a-lanart.dreamwidth.org/250149.html. Comment here, comment there; it's all fine.
Author: Aeron Lanart
Fandom(s): Highlander/Torchwood.Doctor Who
Characters: Jack Harkness, Methos, Eleventh Doctor, Siannon O'Niall (oifc)
Rating: Gen with m/m background
Warnings: Children of Earth compliant
Disclaimer: BBC own Torchwood and the Whoniverse,
Panzer/Davis own their concept of immortality and the other Highlander stuff except for Siannon.
Title is from the song of the same name by Muse
~ Chapter 2 ~
Siannon was greeted by a bright and clear Cardiff morning as she folded back the shutters on the bay windows. A crow was perched on one of the window boxes outside, watching as she carefully latched the shutters into their open position, more than likely hoping for a treat when she opened the window.
“Good morning,” she said, obliging the crow with a scatter of seeds on the window box.
“Caw!” the crow replied, bobbing its head before pecking at the seeds, eyeing her hopefully once they’d gone.
“No more this morning, I’m afraid.” She chuckled as the crow gave her a rather disgusted look before flapping away. The crow would be back later no doubt, just in time for lunch.
Siannon loved this time of day before everyone else arrived and the place was hers alone, it also gave her a feeling of kinship with Joe Dawson and the quiet times they’d shared at his bar. She had the added advantage of living in the spacious flat on the top floor of this building so she didn’t really have to go far to start opening up for the day if she wasn’t already out on Torchwood business. Sometimes Gwen or one of the others would drop in for breakfast on their way to St James’ but as it was Siannon’s day off she enjoyed her breakfast in splendid and comfortable isolation.
~*~
“Why here? Why now? And why on earth are we next to a…” The Doctor frowned, then squinted at the image on the viewscreen “...pub?”
Methos chuckled, and received a shove off the Doctor for his trouble, their blue lady knew him far too well. He took a closer look and realised he recognised the area. The TARDIS didn’t just know him and his penchant for beer, he suspected she’d been eavesdropping on his rare phone calls from the woman who most likely owned the place, or possibly a conversation with Jack. Jack, whose hand was still wrapped around his; he gave the hand a slight tug to get Jack’s attention.
“You know where this is, Jack. Zoom out a little would you, cariad glas?” The TARDIS obliged him.
“That’s the old Cardiff Bay Station House! It’s looking a lot better than the last time I saw it.”
“Same here. We can probably thank Siannon for that.”
“I intend to.” Jack reached back and patted the console. “Thanks, dear. You’ll love her when you meet her. Now shall we go and give Siannon a surprise?”
“We could, but he can’t, in case you’d forgotten,” said the Doctor as he indicated Methos.
“But you’re also forgetting that I’m very old, very sneaky and used to hiding in plain sight,” Methos replied with a grin. “I have a trick up my sleeve that I haven’t used since I joined you because I’ve not needed to. Plus it takes a bit more concentration than I’ve generally had free to use since then,” he said. Jack winked at him which Methos duly ignored, though with more effort than he hoped was obvious.
“A trick that will defeat that immortal radar system of yours? That’s rather useful and just a little bit clever, if you don’t mind me saying,” the Doctor commented as he turned to face them with a grin.
Jack shrugged. “I would have just said ‘neat trick’.” Methos elbowed him, he thought rather more gently than Jack deserved.
“That’s because you’ve got no imagination,” Methos said.
“That’s not what you said last night,” Jack replied
“True,” Methos conceded with a slight, almost secret, smile only to be answered by Jack’s megawatt grin that was anything but secret.
“Or the night before...” added Jack as his grin softened, becoming more personal, more intimate and Methos felt his smile widen in response as his focus narrowed, filtering out almost everything but Jack.
“Also true,” he said as he moved infinitesimally closer to Jack, more a shift of balance and stance than an actual step. “OK, maybe you’ve just got a one track mind.”
“Are you complaining?” Jack asked. Methos met his eyes, aware that Jack was searching his face for a sign that he’d misstepped, more fragile beneath the surface than most people would think from the outward face that Jack presented to the world. Methos felt privileged that he was one of the few who had been - and still was - allowed to see that. Ianto had been another, which was probably why Jack was feeling unsure now they were back here, in Cardiff, where every corner must remind him of what he had lost; no, what they had lost. Methos took Jack’s hand, dropped a kiss into the palm and folded his fingers around it, before taking that hand in both of his own.
“Do I look like I’m complaining?” It was almost a whisper, but they were close enough that Jack would be able to feel what he said against his skin even if he couldn’t actually hear what Methos had said.
“Now that you mention it, no...”
Much to Methos’ annoyance, and no doubt Jack’s also, the Doctor chose that moment to interrupt.
“Knock it off you two. Places to go, people to see, remember?”
“But...” Methos placed a finger on Jack’s lips, partly to shut him up but also partly as a reminder that they had plenty of time to revisit the anticipated conclusion to the conversation. Plus, the Doctor had a point and here in the TARDIS Methos was willing to admit that.
“He’s right, Jack. Now shush.” Jack shrugged, but didn’t say anything in reply though he did start kissing Methos’ fingers where they lay on his lips. Methos moved his hand, a lot slower than he probably should have done, but… he gave himself a mental nudge. Jack’s nearness was distracting, even though he was mostly used to it. “Hey, I need to concentrate and I can’t when you’re doing that, so go and make yourself scarce for a minute, there’s a good boy.” Methos gave Jack a gentle shove in the direction of the stairs, determined not to get distracted again. He’d been serious about the concentration needed in order to dampen the external signs of his quickening, especially if he was to conceal himself from someone who was as old, and who knew him as well, as Siannon.
“Don’t you just hate it when he plays the age card?” The Doctor commented in a stage whisper as Jack joined him at the bottom of the steps.
“I heard that!” Methos said to their backs as he hung over the railing.
“You were supposed to. Come on Jack, let’s leave him alone to perform his little trick. We can wait outside.” The door closed behind them, leaving Methos alone in the TARDIS. He sat down in one of the seats that surrounded the console and leaned back. He smiled.
“I suppose I’d best get on with this, but between you and me, my girl, I’m afraid I might be rather out of practice.” The lights in the console room shimmered slightly and Methos couldn’t decide whether the TARDIS was laughing at him or offering encouragement. “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he muttered as he closed his eyes and turned his focus inwards and down.
When he exited the TARDIS Jack and the Doctor were leaning on the railings at the street corner. Jack looked rather wistful, which Methos understood as soon as he raised his eyes to see what held Jack’s attention. The Millennium Centre. The inscription that faced the Plas couldn’t be seen from their direction, or this distance, but they both knew it anyway. Methos walked towards them, wrapping his arms around Jack and resting his head on Jack’s shoulder.
“Creu Gwir Fel Gwydr O Ffwrnais Awen,” Methos said. Jack kissed his forehead gently, and replied,
“In these Stones Horizons Sing.”
To Methos’ relief the Doctor let them share the moment without interrupting and it was only when Jack straightened, and Methos loosened his arms that he spoke.
“Why doesn’t my TARDIS translate Welsh any more? At least I presume that was Welsh.” He sounded plaintive, almost as if he’d discovered a friend sneaking around behind his back. Methos supposed he almost had in a way and deserved an explanation, in this case at least.
“I asked her not to if it was a personal thing, she mostly gets it right,” Methos said as he squeezed Jack’s hand.
“Oh.” The Doctor still appeared to be a disappointed as he glanced over his shoulder at the TARDIS and ran a hand through his hair with a distracted expression on his face, which then cleared to be replaced by a smile. Methos suspected she had given the Doctor a metaphorical and telepathic kick. “Oh! Well that’s OK then, I suppose. But...”
Methos forestalled the Doctor’s next slew of questions by answering the one he thought was the most obvious. “It’s the inscription from the Millennium Centre, I thought you would recognise it, you’ve parked opposite the place more than once.”
The Doctor peered in the direction of the Millennium centre and the Plas. “Ah,” he said.
“You didn’t notice did you?” Methos asked.
The Doctor shook his head, but had the grace to look shamefaced about it. Methos decided he could be forgiven and offered another nugget of information.
“The Welsh means “Creating Truth Like Glass From Inspiration's Furnace” if you’re interested.”
“Thanks. I think it sounds better in Welsh.”
And that, Methos realised, was the closest the Doctor was going to come to saying he approved of the TARDIS acquiescing to Methos’ request. He smiled in acknowledgement, the Doctor grinned in return.
“And now,” the Doctor said, “I think we have a friend of yours to surprise. Shall we?”
Together, the three of them headed towards the door of the pub that was, somewhat reassuringly in Methos’ opinion, called Y Ddraig Goch.
Crossposted from https://a-lanart.dreamwidth.org/250149.html. Comment here, comment there; it's all fine.