Four times John tried to change the past and one time he succeeded.
Title: Four times John tried to change the past and one time he succeeded.
Pairings: John/Jack
Characters: John, Mortal!Jack, Ianto
Ratings: PG 13
Warnings: Spoilers for TW: COE, Spoilers for DW Lets Kill Hitler
Disclaimer: I don't own these boys. If I did I would have left them with the Moff and Jack would have turned out as awesome as River Song...
Summary: The first thing they taught you in the Time Agency was the importance of not crossing your personal time line. But since when did Captain John Hart pay any attention to rules?
Authors Notes: Thanks to mcparrot for the prompt! Hope you like it. :)
The first thing they taught you in the Time Agency was the importance of not crossing your personal time line.
The second thing they taught you in the Time Agency was about fixed points in time.
The third thing they taught you was about the billions of unfixed points that could be changed any time you wanted.
The only thing they couldn't teach you, was the wisdom to not try the first thing, and the ability to tell the difference between the last two...
************************************************
The man who would one day be known as Captain John Hart, but for now was simply John, sighed as he looked round the street. It was the same street. The same street he always ended up at. The same street, in the same town, in the same goddess forsaken backwater planet. Stupid interference. The teleporter was definitely not going to get him out of here. Wherever here was.
“So. That was a good plan.”
John growled, turning to face his latest partner, some poster boy hippy kid from a bloody sand covered colony world, not even decent stock from the Sol territories, and shrugged. “Didn't see you coming up with any better ideas.”
“You never asked, just went storming off on your own. As usual. No patience, no waiting for me, we're supposed to be partners-”
It took John roughly a second to pin his partner up against the wall, his hands grabbing onto firm shoulders and pressing hard against the younger man. He half expected to be punched, pushed, threatened or otherwise cast aside. He hadn't expected the feral grin that greeted him, the hands grabbing at his sides, pulling him closer instead of pushing him further away. Huh.
This could get interesting...
At least it could if they were only somewhere a bit more interesting.
Grabbing the other man's wrist, he twisted it up above their heads, fingers opening the strap with ease and reprogramming it by touch.
“What are you doing?”
“Oh, don't worry Boeshane, just trying something new,” John whispered, fiddling with his own strap now. “I reckon we link the manipulators together to boost the signal and blast past the interference, jump back a fortnight, to just before we got stranded here, and fix it so we don't land.”
“I dunno, isn't that kindof risky?”
“Hey, it's not like we're a fixed point or something, what could possibly go wrong?”
Five years, or two weeks, later, he found out just how bad it could be.
*********************************************************
John peeked through the heavy velvet curtains one more time and nodded to himself before turning back to the leggy blonde beside him. “Okay, you got the plan?”
“Sure thing, toots,” she trilled in her New York accent, fidgeting on her high heels and adjusting her feathers. “I go over to the big party in the corner, find you, and give you the Martini with the pill in it.”
“Good, good.”
“I still don' understand though, why you wanna knock yourself out?”
“So I don't make one of the biggest mistakes of my life and get married tomorrow,” he muttered darkly. “Bitch is trying to take me for everything I've got.”
“Gee, breakups are rough. Who's the lucky gal?”
“The guy I'm sitting next to...” John muttered, catching her confused stare and shaking his head. 1920's Earth. So backward. “Sister of the guy I'm sitting next to.”
“Oh! Okay sugar, just leave it to me. I'll be out in five minutes.”
Five minutes later
“You sure you want to go through with this?”
John sighed and turned to his partner. The 'Face of Boe' was grinning inanely, arms folded as he turned all of his 1.21 gigawatt teeth on John.
“I'm sure. This has to stop.”
“If you're sure.”
John nodded, peeking over the top of the leather booth and spotting his own self lolling drunkenly in the corner. His stag party. His last night of freedom. His last night before it all went wrong. But not this time. This time it would be different. Reaching behind him, he wrapped his fingers around the stem of his glass and brought it up to his lips for a sip, his gaze still fixed on the party going on beside him.
He remembered it so well, the booze, the girls, his blushing groom already under the table with drink - or a blow job, he was a little hazy on the timing of the night. Actually, he hoped the girl would deliver the pill after the blowjob, that had been worth remembering.
He watched the group closely. She should be here any minute now. He could almost feel the tingles of time rearranging itself around him, that shiver through his soul, the subtle vibrations of space time, shifting, running through his veins, there was nothing like it. He could almost feel it, building inside him-
No. Wait. That wasn't right. Instead of everything sharpening as his timelines changed, he felt his senses dulling, the lights of the club going dark. This wasn't right, he felt odd, he felt sleepy, he felt-
Drugged.
Looking at the glass in his hand, he spotted the tiny trace of undissolved pill at the bottom and sighed. “Oh that stupid bimb-”
As his head hit the leather, the chuckles of his partner filled his head, and he surrendered to the darkness. At least this time he hadn't gotten trapped in a time loop. That had to be something.
***********************************
He hadn't realised they were so noisy when they were having sex.
John had always known Boe was a screamer; what he hadn't realised was that his own 'discrete' moans were actually loud enough to carry beyond the walls. Huh. He'd have to watch that next time they were in a backward time that wasn't exactly keen on the more ancient aspects of 'brotherly love'.
Fortunately, the Romans had no such qualms and Pompeii was such a gorgeous place. It was weird that they had both happened to cross paths here, but John knew it was something that had had unexpected consequences. Weird, wiggly, gross, and unexpected consequences. The sort that could make both their lives a hell of a lot more complicated if Boe didn't grow a pair and do the right thing...
Nope, definitely best if John could take him out of the equation altogether and just stop the whole thing before it could start.
Discretely edging an arm into the room, John held his breath as he took in the sight of his own naked form writhing on the bed. He had seen himself before, of course; mirrors, vids, holodisplay, all the usual toys, but there was something about live action, the sounds, the smells, the way Boe writhed-
Shit, from the looks of things if he didn't hurry up he would be too late.
Angling his fingers up and flexing them lightly, he aimed at the floor alongside the bed, the small pile of very out of time wrappers littering the ground and sending a splash of bright colour in the flickering torchlight. Just wrappers; any minute now they were going to realise they were out of condoms, the supplies essential kit for time agents. The Time Agency and standard innoculations could take care of most of the really nasty things, but sometimes there was nothing quite like a good old fashioned barrier. As they had gone out of use by the 23rd century, it was always necessary to stock up whenever possible.
And this particular evening, they had already worked through Boe's entire stash.
Flicking the condom from between his fingers to the pile, John quickly drew back, in case the motion or rustle of the wrappers caught their attention. He needn't have worried; the volcano could have erupted early and neither of them would have noticed. Damn, he'd forgotten how intense it was with Boe, the way they could just lose themselves for hours-
Shaking his head, John cast one last look at them, grinning as he watched his own arm drop down beside the bed and his fingers grope through the pile. Just a little further, a little to the left- Got it. Grinning, he watched as his past self pulled the condom up from the floor and tore into the wrapper. Perfect. That should do the trick.
There would be no 'little accident' this time.
Half an hour later
John sighed as he rolled over on the bed, the material scratchy and uncomfortable, but in his blissed out state he didn't really care. Grinning, he blew out a shaky breath and brought his hands up to his head. That had been amazing. There was nothing quite like bumping into an old friend to make a trip worthwhile. They really should do this more often.
“That... was...” Boe gasped weakly, waving a hand in the air.
“Yeah.”
“Wow.”
“Uh huh.” Settling back onto the bed, John reached down to his cock, fiddling with the condom, ready to take it off. “Huh.”
“What?”
Looking down, John felt the slickness on his fingers and winced at the sight. “Nothing. Condom split.”
“Huh.” Boe rolled over onto his side and looked at it. “Thought it felt a bit different.”
“Eh, not like we haven't done that before.”
“Yeah...” Boe sounded thoughtful and his fingers strayed to his stomach.
“What?”
“It's just... I haven't exactly been up to date with my vaccinations lately, not since I left the Agency.”
“Huh.” Rolling to face him, John shrugged and wrapped an arm around him, pulling him closer again. “Not worth worrying about it now. I mean, what's the worst that could happen? It's not like you're gonna get knocked up.”
Boe swallowed hard and shrugged. “Actually...”
***************************************
John was bored. There was no denying it. It had seemed like just a daft bet at first, the one that every time agent made at some point or other, the last cliché and joke among time travellers. It was a fixed point, it couldn't be changed.
Or could it? Sometimes, you just had to try. Just because.
The rifle was heavy in his hands, warm and smooth, and he could see the window opposite him. The room was dark with wood, heavy and strong, and he could see the person behind the desk. The shot wasn't great, not yet, but he could wait. He wanted to see those eyes, see that stupid little moustache first.
Nobody could kill Hitler. Puh-lease.
He watched as the officer came into the room, stopping just out of sight, but John could see the reaction of the man behind the desk. Just a little more, just move a little further forward-
It was the noise that made him look up, the sound like something flying closer, closer...
The shockwave pressed him into the roof, stone and dust whirling into his nostrils, making him cough as the crash reverberated through the air.
“What the-”
Forcing himself back up, John peered over the edge of the wall and gasped at the giant hole in the side of the building opposite him, the guards outside going crazy. It looked as though something had crashed into the building, something large and-
Looking through the gun sight, John laughed as he caught the glimpse of blue in the corner of the room. He could make out figures moving around, a whirl of action and bright light and then a new face appeared, one he knew all too well.
“River...” Grinning, John quickly started packing up his rifle, hearing the familiar sounds of alarm and shouts getting closer. Time to go.
It may not be possible to kill Hitler, but there were no such rules about his own timeline, and it was always best to pursue the better part of valour when the universes most famous murderer turned up.
Especially when he still owed her money...
*************************************
John watched, his eyes trained on the building and sighed, counting the seconds on his chronometer carefully, his attention focused carefully on the target. Too soon, and he may go back in. Too late and it would be... well, too late.
The building was blank yet imposing, and he could feel his gaze drawn to a certain floor, as though sensing the evil there. He had no idea why he was doing this. It wasn't his fight. He had nothing to gain from it. It was stupid to even try it.
Flicking at the buttons, John dialled a number, waiting as it rang then smiling as a slightly breathless, whispered voice came over it.
“Hello?”
“Eye Candy! Long time no see. How you doing, you stud?”
“Hart.” He could hear Ianto's disgust and grinned wider. “What do you want?”
“I've got some information for you. Meet me in five minutes, building opposite Thames House, there's a alleyway. Be there.”
“John, I don't have time for your games-”
“I've got information. About the 456. And Jack's daughter.”
He could hear the hitch in Ianto's breath and closed his eyes. Gotcha.
“I'll be right out.”
Hanging up, John checked his chronometer and counted down the minutes, watching the door of the building, waiting for the sign he was looking for. There. The door swung open and Ianto Jones hurried out of the building, dashing across the street. Just in time.
He waited, making sure, watching until the doors suddenly slammed shut, alarms filling the air. John grinned as Ianto ran back across the street, banging on the doors, trying to force them open even as the people inside fought to escape too. But it was too late. They were locked in.
And Ianto Jones was locked out.
“Happy Birthday, Boe,” John whispered, standing up and activating his vortex manipulator.
***********************************
Some points in time were fixed.
But some points were just begging to be broken.
The tricky part was working out which was which - and having a good enough reason for trying.
Pairings: John/Jack
Characters: John, Mortal!Jack, Ianto
Ratings: PG 13
Warnings: Spoilers for TW: COE, Spoilers for DW Lets Kill Hitler
Disclaimer: I don't own these boys. If I did I would have left them with the Moff and Jack would have turned out as awesome as River Song...
Summary: The first thing they taught you in the Time Agency was the importance of not crossing your personal time line. But since when did Captain John Hart pay any attention to rules?
Authors Notes: Thanks to mcparrot for the prompt! Hope you like it. :)
The first thing they taught you in the Time Agency was the importance of not crossing your personal time line.
The second thing they taught you in the Time Agency was about fixed points in time.
The third thing they taught you was about the billions of unfixed points that could be changed any time you wanted.
The only thing they couldn't teach you, was the wisdom to not try the first thing, and the ability to tell the difference between the last two...
************************************************
The man who would one day be known as Captain John Hart, but for now was simply John, sighed as he looked round the street. It was the same street. The same street he always ended up at. The same street, in the same town, in the same goddess forsaken backwater planet. Stupid interference. The teleporter was definitely not going to get him out of here. Wherever here was.
“So. That was a good plan.”
John growled, turning to face his latest partner, some poster boy hippy kid from a bloody sand covered colony world, not even decent stock from the Sol territories, and shrugged. “Didn't see you coming up with any better ideas.”
“You never asked, just went storming off on your own. As usual. No patience, no waiting for me, we're supposed to be partners-”
It took John roughly a second to pin his partner up against the wall, his hands grabbing onto firm shoulders and pressing hard against the younger man. He half expected to be punched, pushed, threatened or otherwise cast aside. He hadn't expected the feral grin that greeted him, the hands grabbing at his sides, pulling him closer instead of pushing him further away. Huh.
This could get interesting...
At least it could if they were only somewhere a bit more interesting.
Grabbing the other man's wrist, he twisted it up above their heads, fingers opening the strap with ease and reprogramming it by touch.
“What are you doing?”
“Oh, don't worry Boeshane, just trying something new,” John whispered, fiddling with his own strap now. “I reckon we link the manipulators together to boost the signal and blast past the interference, jump back a fortnight, to just before we got stranded here, and fix it so we don't land.”
“I dunno, isn't that kindof risky?”
“Hey, it's not like we're a fixed point or something, what could possibly go wrong?”
Five years, or two weeks, later, he found out just how bad it could be.
*********************************************************
John peeked through the heavy velvet curtains one more time and nodded to himself before turning back to the leggy blonde beside him. “Okay, you got the plan?”
“Sure thing, toots,” she trilled in her New York accent, fidgeting on her high heels and adjusting her feathers. “I go over to the big party in the corner, find you, and give you the Martini with the pill in it.”
“Good, good.”
“I still don' understand though, why you wanna knock yourself out?”
“So I don't make one of the biggest mistakes of my life and get married tomorrow,” he muttered darkly. “Bitch is trying to take me for everything I've got.”
“Gee, breakups are rough. Who's the lucky gal?”
“The guy I'm sitting next to...” John muttered, catching her confused stare and shaking his head. 1920's Earth. So backward. “Sister of the guy I'm sitting next to.”
“Oh! Okay sugar, just leave it to me. I'll be out in five minutes.”
Five minutes later
“You sure you want to go through with this?”
John sighed and turned to his partner. The 'Face of Boe' was grinning inanely, arms folded as he turned all of his 1.21 gigawatt teeth on John.
“I'm sure. This has to stop.”
“If you're sure.”
John nodded, peeking over the top of the leather booth and spotting his own self lolling drunkenly in the corner. His stag party. His last night of freedom. His last night before it all went wrong. But not this time. This time it would be different. Reaching behind him, he wrapped his fingers around the stem of his glass and brought it up to his lips for a sip, his gaze still fixed on the party going on beside him.
He remembered it so well, the booze, the girls, his blushing groom already under the table with drink - or a blow job, he was a little hazy on the timing of the night. Actually, he hoped the girl would deliver the pill after the blowjob, that had been worth remembering.
He watched the group closely. She should be here any minute now. He could almost feel the tingles of time rearranging itself around him, that shiver through his soul, the subtle vibrations of space time, shifting, running through his veins, there was nothing like it. He could almost feel it, building inside him-
No. Wait. That wasn't right. Instead of everything sharpening as his timelines changed, he felt his senses dulling, the lights of the club going dark. This wasn't right, he felt odd, he felt sleepy, he felt-
Drugged.
Looking at the glass in his hand, he spotted the tiny trace of undissolved pill at the bottom and sighed. “Oh that stupid bimb-”
As his head hit the leather, the chuckles of his partner filled his head, and he surrendered to the darkness. At least this time he hadn't gotten trapped in a time loop. That had to be something.
***********************************
He hadn't realised they were so noisy when they were having sex.
John had always known Boe was a screamer; what he hadn't realised was that his own 'discrete' moans were actually loud enough to carry beyond the walls. Huh. He'd have to watch that next time they were in a backward time that wasn't exactly keen on the more ancient aspects of 'brotherly love'.
Fortunately, the Romans had no such qualms and Pompeii was such a gorgeous place. It was weird that they had both happened to cross paths here, but John knew it was something that had had unexpected consequences. Weird, wiggly, gross, and unexpected consequences. The sort that could make both their lives a hell of a lot more complicated if Boe didn't grow a pair and do the right thing...
Nope, definitely best if John could take him out of the equation altogether and just stop the whole thing before it could start.
Discretely edging an arm into the room, John held his breath as he took in the sight of his own naked form writhing on the bed. He had seen himself before, of course; mirrors, vids, holodisplay, all the usual toys, but there was something about live action, the sounds, the smells, the way Boe writhed-
Shit, from the looks of things if he didn't hurry up he would be too late.
Angling his fingers up and flexing them lightly, he aimed at the floor alongside the bed, the small pile of very out of time wrappers littering the ground and sending a splash of bright colour in the flickering torchlight. Just wrappers; any minute now they were going to realise they were out of condoms, the supplies essential kit for time agents. The Time Agency and standard innoculations could take care of most of the really nasty things, but sometimes there was nothing quite like a good old fashioned barrier. As they had gone out of use by the 23rd century, it was always necessary to stock up whenever possible.
And this particular evening, they had already worked through Boe's entire stash.
Flicking the condom from between his fingers to the pile, John quickly drew back, in case the motion or rustle of the wrappers caught their attention. He needn't have worried; the volcano could have erupted early and neither of them would have noticed. Damn, he'd forgotten how intense it was with Boe, the way they could just lose themselves for hours-
Shaking his head, John cast one last look at them, grinning as he watched his own arm drop down beside the bed and his fingers grope through the pile. Just a little further, a little to the left- Got it. Grinning, he watched as his past self pulled the condom up from the floor and tore into the wrapper. Perfect. That should do the trick.
There would be no 'little accident' this time.
Half an hour later
John sighed as he rolled over on the bed, the material scratchy and uncomfortable, but in his blissed out state he didn't really care. Grinning, he blew out a shaky breath and brought his hands up to his head. That had been amazing. There was nothing quite like bumping into an old friend to make a trip worthwhile. They really should do this more often.
“That... was...” Boe gasped weakly, waving a hand in the air.
“Yeah.”
“Wow.”
“Uh huh.” Settling back onto the bed, John reached down to his cock, fiddling with the condom, ready to take it off. “Huh.”
“What?”
Looking down, John felt the slickness on his fingers and winced at the sight. “Nothing. Condom split.”
“Huh.” Boe rolled over onto his side and looked at it. “Thought it felt a bit different.”
“Eh, not like we haven't done that before.”
“Yeah...” Boe sounded thoughtful and his fingers strayed to his stomach.
“What?”
“It's just... I haven't exactly been up to date with my vaccinations lately, not since I left the Agency.”
“Huh.” Rolling to face him, John shrugged and wrapped an arm around him, pulling him closer again. “Not worth worrying about it now. I mean, what's the worst that could happen? It's not like you're gonna get knocked up.”
Boe swallowed hard and shrugged. “Actually...”
***************************************
John was bored. There was no denying it. It had seemed like just a daft bet at first, the one that every time agent made at some point or other, the last cliché and joke among time travellers. It was a fixed point, it couldn't be changed.
Or could it? Sometimes, you just had to try. Just because.
The rifle was heavy in his hands, warm and smooth, and he could see the window opposite him. The room was dark with wood, heavy and strong, and he could see the person behind the desk. The shot wasn't great, not yet, but he could wait. He wanted to see those eyes, see that stupid little moustache first.
Nobody could kill Hitler. Puh-lease.
He watched as the officer came into the room, stopping just out of sight, but John could see the reaction of the man behind the desk. Just a little more, just move a little further forward-
It was the noise that made him look up, the sound like something flying closer, closer...
The shockwave pressed him into the roof, stone and dust whirling into his nostrils, making him cough as the crash reverberated through the air.
“What the-”
Forcing himself back up, John peered over the edge of the wall and gasped at the giant hole in the side of the building opposite him, the guards outside going crazy. It looked as though something had crashed into the building, something large and-
Looking through the gun sight, John laughed as he caught the glimpse of blue in the corner of the room. He could make out figures moving around, a whirl of action and bright light and then a new face appeared, one he knew all too well.
“River...” Grinning, John quickly started packing up his rifle, hearing the familiar sounds of alarm and shouts getting closer. Time to go.
It may not be possible to kill Hitler, but there were no such rules about his own timeline, and it was always best to pursue the better part of valour when the universes most famous murderer turned up.
Especially when he still owed her money...
*************************************
John watched, his eyes trained on the building and sighed, counting the seconds on his chronometer carefully, his attention focused carefully on the target. Too soon, and he may go back in. Too late and it would be... well, too late.
The building was blank yet imposing, and he could feel his gaze drawn to a certain floor, as though sensing the evil there. He had no idea why he was doing this. It wasn't his fight. He had nothing to gain from it. It was stupid to even try it.
Flicking at the buttons, John dialled a number, waiting as it rang then smiling as a slightly breathless, whispered voice came over it.
“Hello?”
“Eye Candy! Long time no see. How you doing, you stud?”
“Hart.” He could hear Ianto's disgust and grinned wider. “What do you want?”
“I've got some information for you. Meet me in five minutes, building opposite Thames House, there's a alleyway. Be there.”
“John, I don't have time for your games-”
“I've got information. About the 456. And Jack's daughter.”
He could hear the hitch in Ianto's breath and closed his eyes. Gotcha.
“I'll be right out.”
Hanging up, John checked his chronometer and counted down the minutes, watching the door of the building, waiting for the sign he was looking for. There. The door swung open and Ianto Jones hurried out of the building, dashing across the street. Just in time.
He waited, making sure, watching until the doors suddenly slammed shut, alarms filling the air. John grinned as Ianto ran back across the street, banging on the doors, trying to force them open even as the people inside fought to escape too. But it was too late. They were locked in.
And Ianto Jones was locked out.
“Happy Birthday, Boe,” John whispered, standing up and activating his vortex manipulator.
***********************************
Some points in time were fixed.
But some points were just begging to be broken.
The tricky part was working out which was which - and having a good enough reason for trying.