Better Than Alien Liquor (version one)
Better Than Alien Liquor
WARNING! Spoilers for the end of DW The End of Time part two
Rating: R for heavily implied sexing (sorry, no actual smut)
Disclaimer: Doctor Who and Torchwood are both RTD and the BBC’s not mine. Both would have ended differently if they were
word count: 1255 (version one)
(un-spoilery) summary: a certain scene in the most recent DW episode pissed me off, so I’m rewriting it the way I think it should have gone in two different ways. It’s also a fix-it fic for CoE. The first is non episode-compliant, the second is episode-compliant-they both start off very similar, and end somewhat similarly, but are not the same.
un-betaed, unbrit-picked, and part one was written in the car at around 11pm while I was still riding the high of anger. I hope no one’s done this yet… (this is my first time posting Doctor Who OR Torchwood fanfic, so be gentle please) dedicated to
ontinia
ONCE AGAIN: SPOILERS
At this point Jack wasn’t sure where he was anymore. Some pub in someplace nowhere near Earth. It didn’t matter though; all planets or ships with animal-like life forms would inevitably have bars in which he could get completely pissed. (Plant-based life forms tended to rely on slightly different methods, but Jack was still miserable enough that he wasn’t willing to put the extra effort in to forget). And right now, all Jack wanted to do was forget those horrible events that had caused him to leave Earth in the first place, and bury himself in some warm, willing body. Though he was willing to go with cold and tentacled, as it was also a human he was trying to forget.
In a thousand years time, you won’t remember me…
CRACK
The glass he was nursing cracked as he clenched his hands in anger while the words reverberated in his head again. No, he would never forget. Jack had promised him that because he never wanted to. He just wanted to forget why forgetting the man was even an issue. He scrubbed a hand over his face before downing the shot and demanding another drink and another glass.
Sometimes, he thought, there was nothing better than futuristic alien liquor. They had found ways to make hangovers less painful, and with his metabolism and sped-up healing, he had to try harder than most to get drunk (well, most humans). He had found almost-drunken-nirvana in this bar: the bartenders tended to be more willing to turn the other cheek to him when he did something stupid, like pick a fight, and they served alcohol tasty and potent enough for him to get completely smashed. Again, something he had every intention of doing tonight.
A drunken Adipose wandered past him, and about a minute later its companion hopped up onto the bar and followed. Or tried to, as it toppled off the edge of the bar after jumping over his hand. Jack would have laughed if it weren’t so damned depressing; even the Adipose had companions.
He drank from the new glass and stared into it morosely, and his shoulders slumped some more. Suddenly, a hand slapped a note down on the bar in front of his face; “from the man over there,” the bartender said, and Jack’s gaze followed where the guy was pointing.
The Doctor.
Jack stared at him in shock and confusion (and admittedly a little bit of hurt too; now he showed up?) but the ever-present soldier part of him kept him seated until he read the note. Who knew? Maybe the Doctor needed help and the note contained instructions; he seemed sad as he nodded at him.
Apprehensively, he opened it.
It’s for keeps, I promise. You’re welcome
Jack looked up, still confused, and the Doctor gave a slight nod of his head to the left (well, Jack’s left, his own right) with a slight smile on his face. Before he could look over though, a pale hand-human, Jack noted absently-closed over one of his own, and a familiar voice with a very familiar accent spoke to him.
“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you ran off to a bar, sir, that’s what you told me you did last time you were left alone.” Jack’s head turned so fast to look at the speaker it was surprising he didn’t get whiplash.
“Ianto.” The name fell almost reverently from Jack’s lips, as he stared at the man who, according to those memories that he was still trying to drown out, should not be standing next to him. Ianto smiled at him.
Jack did a double take: frantically looking at the Doctor, then back at Ianto again, and then at the Doctor once more. The Doctor gave him a salute, and Jack straightened himself and saluted back, watching the doctor walk off before slowly turning to Ianto again, afraid that he would have disappeared with the Doctor-never mind that he could still feel the Welshman’s hand on his-at a loss for words.
“I guess should be proud,” Ianto commented, his eyes twinkling, “I’ve rendered the great Captain Jack Harkness speechless.”
“But you died.” Jack blurted out, “I held you in my arms and watched you die. You died and it was all my-” he was cut off by Ianto gently laying a finger across his lips.
“Yes, I died, and no, it wasn’t your fault. I willingly followed you in there, and I didn’t think either. The Doctor saved me,” he said, before moving it to hold Jack’s chin and using his tried and true method of proving to Jack that, yes, it really was him, Ianto Jones. He kissed him.
It was still a few seconds before Jack broke out of his stupor, and then it was like a switch was thrown and he kissed back with a passion. Jack wrapped his arms around Ianto, crushing the man to his body as he felt tears form in his eyes. “How,” Jack whispered, “how is this possible?”
“Not here,” Ianto replied, hugging him back, “I’ve got a room waiting for us. I’ll tell you everything you want to know there.”
Jack pulled away slightly in order to reach into one of his pocket and slammed a handful of alien currency on the bar. “And then,” he said with a grin, “you’re going to pound me into the mattress so hard that I feel it tomorrow.”
“Now there’s the Jack I know and love,” Ianto replied, giving Jack a quick kiss on the lips, “I’ve been waiting for you.” He mentally kicked himself as he saw Jack’s grin fall off his face and a haunted look enter his eyes. Ianto found himself crushed against the immortal once again, with Jack’s hitched voice in his ears.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I couldn’t say it before. I do, I really do, but I just didn’t want it to be goodbye…” Ianto let Jack go on for a little longer and rubbed his back comfortingly, before cutting him off again.
“Stop Jack, I understand. You’ll say it when you’re ready,” he murmured, “I don’t want you to say it because you feel you have to, but I didn’t want to die without having said it.”
“But you died without me having said it!” Jack cried, “I couldn’t say it back!”
“Because our relationship hadn’t needed it before,” Ianto said calmly, “it was the first time either of us had said it out loud like that because we already knew it was true. I knew that you felt it too. That ‘don’t’ meant ‘don’t leave me.’ Jack, I understand, I really do. Stop blaming yourself for everything.”
They stood like that, holding on to one another for a few minutes longer, before Jack released Ianto enough for them to actually walk anywhere. He held onto Ianto’s hand as though afraid that Ianto was still going to disappear at any moment, and Ianto realized this.
“I’m not going anywhere, Jack,” Ianto told him as they stood outside their room, “you’re stuck with me, for a long time to come.”
“I think I can live with that,” Jack replied, his grin reappearing, “yeah.”
~~~~
It was much later, as Jack lay in bed with the cum from his and Ianto’s latest coupling drying on their bellies, and Ianto asleep with his head on Jack’s chest that Jack realized: there were some things that would always be better than alien liquor. And he wouldn’t trade those for anything. They still had issues to work through, but for now they could do it together.
END
since it’s almost 3 in the morning where I am, I’m going to finish and post part two and my thoughts on the scene/episode tomorrow and add the links here once that’s done. (as it is, I’m breaking my own rules by posting this now). Technically it’s not really a part of this, but in that part I give my explanation as to how the Doctor was able to save Ianto, so if you want to know, read it. This turned out a lot longer than I had thought it would be, and adding another scene didn’t really seem to fit, so I decided to only put it in version two.
I hope you enjoyed, as writing this was wonderfully cathartic :)
crossposted here, ff.net (eventually), jackxianto , jantolution , and tw_hysterical9
WARNING! Spoilers for the end of DW The End of Time part two
Rating: R for heavily implied sexing (sorry, no actual smut)
Disclaimer: Doctor Who and Torchwood are both RTD and the BBC’s not mine. Both would have ended differently if they were
word count: 1255 (version one)
(un-spoilery) summary: a certain scene in the most recent DW episode pissed me off, so I’m rewriting it the way I think it should have gone in two different ways. It’s also a fix-it fic for CoE. The first is non episode-compliant, the second is episode-compliant-they both start off very similar, and end somewhat similarly, but are not the same.
un-betaed, unbrit-picked, and part one was written in the car at around 11pm while I was still riding the high of anger. I hope no one’s done this yet… (this is my first time posting Doctor Who OR Torchwood fanfic, so be gentle please) dedicated to
ontinia
ONCE AGAIN: SPOILERS
At this point Jack wasn’t sure where he was anymore. Some pub in someplace nowhere near Earth. It didn’t matter though; all planets or ships with animal-like life forms would inevitably have bars in which he could get completely pissed. (Plant-based life forms tended to rely on slightly different methods, but Jack was still miserable enough that he wasn’t willing to put the extra effort in to forget). And right now, all Jack wanted to do was forget those horrible events that had caused him to leave Earth in the first place, and bury himself in some warm, willing body. Though he was willing to go with cold and tentacled, as it was also a human he was trying to forget.
In a thousand years time, you won’t remember me…
CRACK
The glass he was nursing cracked as he clenched his hands in anger while the words reverberated in his head again. No, he would never forget. Jack had promised him that because he never wanted to. He just wanted to forget why forgetting the man was even an issue. He scrubbed a hand over his face before downing the shot and demanding another drink and another glass.
Sometimes, he thought, there was nothing better than futuristic alien liquor. They had found ways to make hangovers less painful, and with his metabolism and sped-up healing, he had to try harder than most to get drunk (well, most humans). He had found almost-drunken-nirvana in this bar: the bartenders tended to be more willing to turn the other cheek to him when he did something stupid, like pick a fight, and they served alcohol tasty and potent enough for him to get completely smashed. Again, something he had every intention of doing tonight.
A drunken Adipose wandered past him, and about a minute later its companion hopped up onto the bar and followed. Or tried to, as it toppled off the edge of the bar after jumping over his hand. Jack would have laughed if it weren’t so damned depressing; even the Adipose had companions.
He drank from the new glass and stared into it morosely, and his shoulders slumped some more. Suddenly, a hand slapped a note down on the bar in front of his face; “from the man over there,” the bartender said, and Jack’s gaze followed where the guy was pointing.
The Doctor.
Jack stared at him in shock and confusion (and admittedly a little bit of hurt too; now he showed up?) but the ever-present soldier part of him kept him seated until he read the note. Who knew? Maybe the Doctor needed help and the note contained instructions; he seemed sad as he nodded at him.
Apprehensively, he opened it.
It’s for keeps, I promise. You’re welcome
Jack looked up, still confused, and the Doctor gave a slight nod of his head to the left (well, Jack’s left, his own right) with a slight smile on his face. Before he could look over though, a pale hand-human, Jack noted absently-closed over one of his own, and a familiar voice with a very familiar accent spoke to him.
“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you ran off to a bar, sir, that’s what you told me you did last time you were left alone.” Jack’s head turned so fast to look at the speaker it was surprising he didn’t get whiplash.
“Ianto.” The name fell almost reverently from Jack’s lips, as he stared at the man who, according to those memories that he was still trying to drown out, should not be standing next to him. Ianto smiled at him.
Jack did a double take: frantically looking at the Doctor, then back at Ianto again, and then at the Doctor once more. The Doctor gave him a salute, and Jack straightened himself and saluted back, watching the doctor walk off before slowly turning to Ianto again, afraid that he would have disappeared with the Doctor-never mind that he could still feel the Welshman’s hand on his-at a loss for words.
“I guess should be proud,” Ianto commented, his eyes twinkling, “I’ve rendered the great Captain Jack Harkness speechless.”
“But you died.” Jack blurted out, “I held you in my arms and watched you die. You died and it was all my-” he was cut off by Ianto gently laying a finger across his lips.
“Yes, I died, and no, it wasn’t your fault. I willingly followed you in there, and I didn’t think either. The Doctor saved me,” he said, before moving it to hold Jack’s chin and using his tried and true method of proving to Jack that, yes, it really was him, Ianto Jones. He kissed him.
It was still a few seconds before Jack broke out of his stupor, and then it was like a switch was thrown and he kissed back with a passion. Jack wrapped his arms around Ianto, crushing the man to his body as he felt tears form in his eyes. “How,” Jack whispered, “how is this possible?”
“Not here,” Ianto replied, hugging him back, “I’ve got a room waiting for us. I’ll tell you everything you want to know there.”
Jack pulled away slightly in order to reach into one of his pocket and slammed a handful of alien currency on the bar. “And then,” he said with a grin, “you’re going to pound me into the mattress so hard that I feel it tomorrow.”
“Now there’s the Jack I know and love,” Ianto replied, giving Jack a quick kiss on the lips, “I’ve been waiting for you.” He mentally kicked himself as he saw Jack’s grin fall off his face and a haunted look enter his eyes. Ianto found himself crushed against the immortal once again, with Jack’s hitched voice in his ears.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I couldn’t say it before. I do, I really do, but I just didn’t want it to be goodbye…” Ianto let Jack go on for a little longer and rubbed his back comfortingly, before cutting him off again.
“Stop Jack, I understand. You’ll say it when you’re ready,” he murmured, “I don’t want you to say it because you feel you have to, but I didn’t want to die without having said it.”
“But you died without me having said it!” Jack cried, “I couldn’t say it back!”
“Because our relationship hadn’t needed it before,” Ianto said calmly, “it was the first time either of us had said it out loud like that because we already knew it was true. I knew that you felt it too. That ‘don’t’ meant ‘don’t leave me.’ Jack, I understand, I really do. Stop blaming yourself for everything.”
They stood like that, holding on to one another for a few minutes longer, before Jack released Ianto enough for them to actually walk anywhere. He held onto Ianto’s hand as though afraid that Ianto was still going to disappear at any moment, and Ianto realized this.
“I’m not going anywhere, Jack,” Ianto told him as they stood outside their room, “you’re stuck with me, for a long time to come.”
“I think I can live with that,” Jack replied, his grin reappearing, “yeah.”
~~~~
It was much later, as Jack lay in bed with the cum from his and Ianto’s latest coupling drying on their bellies, and Ianto asleep with his head on Jack’s chest that Jack realized: there were some things that would always be better than alien liquor. And he wouldn’t trade those for anything. They still had issues to work through, but for now they could do it together.
END
since it’s almost 3 in the morning where I am, I’m going to finish and post part two and my thoughts on the scene/episode tomorrow and add the links here once that’s done. (as it is, I’m breaking my own rules by posting this now). Technically it’s not really a part of this, but in that part I give my explanation as to how the Doctor was able to save Ianto, so if you want to know, read it. This turned out a lot longer than I had thought it would be, and adding another scene didn’t really seem to fit, so I decided to only put it in version two.
I hope you enjoyed, as writing this was wonderfully cathartic :)
crossposted here, ff.net (eventually), jackxianto , jantolution , and tw_hysterical9