Fic - Run Captain Run - 1/1 - Torchwood
Title: Run Captain, run.
Author: Ceindreadh
Characters/Pairing: Jack Harkness, John Hart, implied Jack/John
Summary: Jack needs a favour from his ex-partner
Rating: PG-15
Word count: approx 600
Warnings: Spoilers for Children of Earth
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, but I promise to treat them properly while they're in my care.
Prompt: 'one of our characters needs a favour from someone'. Added element - a city foreign to your character.
Notes: Written for round 3.2 of Writer in a Drawer. Thanks to Paula and FatCat for looking it over for me before posting it to WIAD.
It's been expanded somewhat from the original entry.
-------------------
"Look, all I'm asking for is one trip," said Jack, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice. "I just need to change one thing, and that'll make everything all right." He leaned forward over the table, his greatcoat wrapped around him like a shield. "You owe me that much."
John Hart raised his glass and drained it in one easy swallow. "No can do. Can't mess with timelines and all that. Anyway, gotta run." He slammed the glass back on the table, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Shoving his chair back noisily, he made for the door.
Jack followed him out into the city streets. As soon as he caught up with John, he grabbed him and slammed him up against the wall.
"When did messing with timelines ever bother you before!" hissed Jack. "Especially if there was money to be made. You used to shift time lines just out of boredom while waiting for your next drink. Dammit, John, you've never worried about breaking the rules before. Why won't you do it this time?"
"Because this isn't the first time you've asked me!" snapped John.
Jack sat there open-mouthed. His guard down, it was easy for John to break the hold and shove Jack away.
John sighed heavily, "Every time, every time you say 'just change one thing' and it'll be all right. But every time you change it, things get fucked up worse than ever, and then months or years later you come and track me down again. If it's not a bar in Boston, it's a whorehouse on Wagga-Wagga. And you start begging me, promising me anything I want if I'll help you. Look, I know if you hadn't helped me power up my wrist strap again I'd have been stranded on 21st Century Earth, and I'm grateful for that. But that doesn't mean I'm going to act as your personal temporal chauffeur. Not again. I cross my own timeline one more time; there'll be a major temporal paradox. Hell, last time I nearly had the Reapers breathing down my neck all cause some kid named Pete Tyler died of a virus in the sixties. No, you're on your own."
It was a stirring speech, and one that John had made before. He remembered the look on Jack's face the first time he'd come begging for help.
A part of John had been glad to see Jack so broken, so desperate, so needy that he'd have promised anything (and he meant anything) to get the trip back into the past that he so frantically needed. And John hadn't made it easy for him; stringing him along, wanting to find out to what lengths Jack would go to gain his compliance.
It had stopped being fun when John realized that Jack would not only promise anything, but also intended to deliver it. Money, sex, drugs. Anything John wanted, Jack was willing to provide. And when John finally grew tired of all the negotiating, Jack had offered him the one thing he knew John really wanted...himself.
-------------
As John made the final settings on his wrist strap, he thought back to the reason he'd agreed the first time, and this time, and all the other times in between. All the changes they'd made to the timeline, and Jack was still Jack.
"Come back to me in a hundred years," Jack had promised, "After we've fixed it, after they're de...after they've had their full lives. Come back and I'll go with you anywhere, anywhen that you want."
"What the hell," thought John, "Rules are made to be broken." He took Jack's arm, and pressed the final button.
The End...
Author: Ceindreadh
Characters/Pairing: Jack Harkness, John Hart, implied Jack/John
Summary: Jack needs a favour from his ex-partner
Rating: PG-15
Word count: approx 600
Warnings: Spoilers for Children of Earth
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, but I promise to treat them properly while they're in my care.
Prompt: 'one of our characters needs a favour from someone'. Added element - a city foreign to your character.
Notes: Written for round 3.2 of Writer in a Drawer. Thanks to Paula and FatCat for looking it over for me before posting it to WIAD.
It's been expanded somewhat from the original entry.
-------------------
"Look, all I'm asking for is one trip," said Jack, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice. "I just need to change one thing, and that'll make everything all right." He leaned forward over the table, his greatcoat wrapped around him like a shield. "You owe me that much."
John Hart raised his glass and drained it in one easy swallow. "No can do. Can't mess with timelines and all that. Anyway, gotta run." He slammed the glass back on the table, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Shoving his chair back noisily, he made for the door.
Jack followed him out into the city streets. As soon as he caught up with John, he grabbed him and slammed him up against the wall.
"When did messing with timelines ever bother you before!" hissed Jack. "Especially if there was money to be made. You used to shift time lines just out of boredom while waiting for your next drink. Dammit, John, you've never worried about breaking the rules before. Why won't you do it this time?"
"Because this isn't the first time you've asked me!" snapped John.
Jack sat there open-mouthed. His guard down, it was easy for John to break the hold and shove Jack away.
John sighed heavily, "Every time, every time you say 'just change one thing' and it'll be all right. But every time you change it, things get fucked up worse than ever, and then months or years later you come and track me down again. If it's not a bar in Boston, it's a whorehouse on Wagga-Wagga. And you start begging me, promising me anything I want if I'll help you. Look, I know if you hadn't helped me power up my wrist strap again I'd have been stranded on 21st Century Earth, and I'm grateful for that. But that doesn't mean I'm going to act as your personal temporal chauffeur. Not again. I cross my own timeline one more time; there'll be a major temporal paradox. Hell, last time I nearly had the Reapers breathing down my neck all cause some kid named Pete Tyler died of a virus in the sixties. No, you're on your own."
It was a stirring speech, and one that John had made before. He remembered the look on Jack's face the first time he'd come begging for help.
A part of John had been glad to see Jack so broken, so desperate, so needy that he'd have promised anything (and he meant anything) to get the trip back into the past that he so frantically needed. And John hadn't made it easy for him; stringing him along, wanting to find out to what lengths Jack would go to gain his compliance.
It had stopped being fun when John realized that Jack would not only promise anything, but also intended to deliver it. Money, sex, drugs. Anything John wanted, Jack was willing to provide. And when John finally grew tired of all the negotiating, Jack had offered him the one thing he knew John really wanted...himself.
-------------
As John made the final settings on his wrist strap, he thought back to the reason he'd agreed the first time, and this time, and all the other times in between. All the changes they'd made to the timeline, and Jack was still Jack.
"Come back to me in a hundred years," Jack had promised, "After we've fixed it, after they're de...after they've had their full lives. Come back and I'll go with you anywhere, anywhen that you want."
"What the hell," thought John, "Rules are made to be broken." He took Jack's arm, and pressed the final button.
The End...