Torchwood - ficlet - Survivors’ Club, Jack/team, PG
Title - Survivors’ Club
Author - laurab1
Pairing - Jack/team
Rating - PG, AU
Length - 330 words
Spoilers - 2.6 Reset
Summary - continues from First, Do No Harm
Disclaimer - alas, none of these people are mine
Feedback is loved and appreciated :) Enjoy!
Survivors’ Club
By Laura
Hub, home, safety.
“Ianto, Tosh, Gwen, dispose of that body,” Jack delegates. “Owen, Martha, with me, my office.”
“Jack Harkness, it’s not going to take three of us to deal with one bloody body,” Gwen protests.
He sees that the other two get it, though. He needs to reconnect, reassure. “I’m sure I can split the procedures three ways, Gwen,” Ianto says. “Come on.”
They go, and Jack heads for his office, his medics in tow. There, he throws his arms around them, kisses their heads. Owen, then Martha. “Thought I’d lost the two of you, there,” he says, thickly. “Thanks for shooting the bastard, Owen.”
“No problem, mate.”
“Saved me doing it. He would've had five bullets in him, if he’d needed to,” Jack growls.
There’s a light slap on his shoulder. “Safely come through a hell of a lot worse than that, mister,” Martha reminds him. “End of the world survivors’ club, you and me, Jack.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Jack says, nodding.
“End of the world survivors’ club?” Owen asks, in his shrink’s voice.
And Jack realises that Martha didn’t whisper that part to him, like he’d thought she’d done. It’s been a while; maybe he is up to talking about it all. Maybe, if he does with Martha, it won’t be quite so bad. Resolved, Jack lets go of them. He gets out his very good stuff, and three tumblers. Pouring generous measures, he hands glasses to Martha and Owen, and takes a sip of his own. The whisky burns nicely on his tongue.
“We’re gonna tell you a story, Owen. I’m gonna tell you where I went. It was hell, but with this pretty lady here giving me a hand, recounting it won’t be as hard as it could’ve been.”
Taking a sip of his own drink, Owen rolls his eyes, and sits down, without being offered. “Just bloody get on with it, Jack.”
“All right.” Drinking some more whisky, he begins: “Started outside, after I’d resurrected…”
-end-
Author - laurab1
Pairing - Jack/team
Rating - PG, AU
Length - 330 words
Spoilers - 2.6 Reset
Summary - continues from First, Do No Harm
Disclaimer - alas, none of these people are mine
Feedback is loved and appreciated :) Enjoy!
Survivors’ Club
By Laura
Hub, home, safety.
“Ianto, Tosh, Gwen, dispose of that body,” Jack delegates. “Owen, Martha, with me, my office.”
“Jack Harkness, it’s not going to take three of us to deal with one bloody body,” Gwen protests.
He sees that the other two get it, though. He needs to reconnect, reassure. “I’m sure I can split the procedures three ways, Gwen,” Ianto says. “Come on.”
They go, and Jack heads for his office, his medics in tow. There, he throws his arms around them, kisses their heads. Owen, then Martha. “Thought I’d lost the two of you, there,” he says, thickly. “Thanks for shooting the bastard, Owen.”
“No problem, mate.”
“Saved me doing it. He would've had five bullets in him, if he’d needed to,” Jack growls.
There’s a light slap on his shoulder. “Safely come through a hell of a lot worse than that, mister,” Martha reminds him. “End of the world survivors’ club, you and me, Jack.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Jack says, nodding.
“End of the world survivors’ club?” Owen asks, in his shrink’s voice.
And Jack realises that Martha didn’t whisper that part to him, like he’d thought she’d done. It’s been a while; maybe he is up to talking about it all. Maybe, if he does with Martha, it won’t be quite so bad. Resolved, Jack lets go of them. He gets out his very good stuff, and three tumblers. Pouring generous measures, he hands glasses to Martha and Owen, and takes a sip of his own. The whisky burns nicely on his tongue.
“We’re gonna tell you a story, Owen. I’m gonna tell you where I went. It was hell, but with this pretty lady here giving me a hand, recounting it won’t be as hard as it could’ve been.”
Taking a sip of his own drink, Owen rolls his eyes, and sits down, without being offered. “Just bloody get on with it, Jack.”
“All right.” Drinking some more whisky, he begins: “Started outside, after I’d resurrected…”
-end-