Fic: The First Nine Times
Rating: Mature, for swear words.
Summary: And he really, really shouldn't be doing this, but damn if it doesn't feel good.
To ophelia_winters, this is all for you, I hope you like it.
Thanks to bugiarda, for the most fantastic beta-ing service.
Thanks to haro for himitsu_santa and general awesomeness, it was a wonderful secret santa experience.
Prompt at the end to avoid spoilers.
The First Nine Times
by midvacent
When he meets Jenny for the first time it takes a bit to get over the fact she's The Doctors Daughter, and yes, he thinks it in capitals, it's too mind blowing for him not to. The Doctor bounds out of the Tardis, and there she is, all charm and a brilliant smile, a confident bounce in her step. A wave to Martha, and then her eyes do the exploring for her. She shakes Jacks hand, they size each other up, with neither like nor dislike. Jenny takes a shine to Mickey, they share details about their favourite Big Fucking Guns, respectively. Jack winks at her when the Doctor isn't looking. She rolls her eyes, but grins at him secretly when she leaves. A message shared. A dare.
The second time he sees her, she promptly starts flirting with him. Jack tries his best to reciprocate in kind, dancing between the Doctor's incredibly dark looks. She's sweet and young and sexy as hell. Despite the fact she beats the crap out of him in an impromptu fight. The Doctor's more than a little proud when she emerges mostly unscathed, while Jack has to lean on Gwen for support as she delivers him to a snickering Martha. That's the last time he brags about his strength and stamina, when GI Jenny's around, anyway.
The third time, it's in a crisis. The world's gone to shit thanks to some alien threat or other and the Doctor has to step in to stop the end of the earth, again. Nothing new there. But Jack finds himself taking orders from her. She knows more about military tactics then he would have originally thought. He can't quite fathom why he finds himself submitting to her. Is it the fact she's like the Doctor? That unflinching stare she sets on him? That utterly grim look of determination? He doesn't get a moment to think until after, and even then, he's too drunk and just relieved to give it much thought.
The fourth time, he's a 'temporary companion'. That's how the Doctor puts it, anyway. It's fine by him. Ianto gets to come along too, this time. Ianto and the Doctor take to each other like long lost best cousins or something; he's torn between protectiveness and jealousy. He's not quite sure who those feelings are for. Jenny doesn't say anything. Just stands at his side, looks from him, to them, to him again. A smile on her face.
The fifth time's brief, just a fuel stop, but he sees her on the security cameras. She waves, mouths the words: Hello Captain! And then pops back inside again.
The sixth seems to be a change of roles, maybe. Jenny wants to stay, take a look at this primitive little planet. She spends the whole day with the team. Jack goes out with Gwen and Mickey on a weevil hunt that night. Of course, Jack has to order her not to go after them and of course, she ignores him. When they get back, the list of injuries include a bruised arm, a broken rib, a knock to the head and very nasty scratch. Luckily Jenny only has to worry about the first one. Still, the Doctor borders on complete manic over-protection and cold disapproval. In a spare moment Martha manages to gently pry the Doctor away and give everyone a much appreciated break. But even she can't hold him for long, soon he's back; hovering over Jenny and glowering at Jack. By the time Jenny and the Doctor leave, Jack's pretty sure he's on the shit-list.
Seven means something new; for the first time, they're un-chaperoned, as Jenny says gleefully. She's managed to get herself a kind of space-hopper. It's much like Jack's wristcomm except possibly more unstable. In honour of this he decides to indulge in one of the more cliché of holidays, a road trip. He takes a whole week off.
Ianto eyes him calmly from the door of the Tourist Office as he leaves. 'Come back,' he says.
Jack nods once. "Yeah," he says, "I'll do that."
Ianto smiles slightly. "Have fun." Jack grins at him and turns toward a week of freedom.
He makes sure to leave his mobile number on his desk where Ianto can find it. Though, Ianto would already know it, Jack thinks. Still, it's a gesture. He waits for a call about some emergency or other the entire trip, but it doesn't ring.
London isn't a new city for Jenny, but Jack tries to take her to some new places on the way. It's summer, and the countryside of Wales and England seem to actually be getting to know the sun. It's all very relaxed; wine-tasting and farmers markets. If there's one thing Jack knows can seduce people, its food. Not that he's trying to do that, of course.
Jenny, on her part, enjoys it all; flirting and laughing and snarking with him non-stop. It's only on Wednesday night when they're both tired and sun burnt and tipsy on gin and tonic that it goes anywhere near serious.
They're slouching on a rickety couch in their little hotel room. A rather large pile of bags sits on one of the double beds. He had taken her to The Arcade in Manchester that afternoon; but it seems Jack was the one who got the most out of it. "Of course, it's nothing like the shops on Bandraginus 5 - that whole planet's like a shop," he says. "But I do like the idea of recycled clothes. Someone else had a whole adventure in those jeans." He gestures to the plastic bag. Jenny nods along, a little sleepy. He grins and continues. "Or a whole life. You can last decades in a good pair a trousers, you know. You don't really need any more then two. You just rotate them…" Jack trails off. "Hey, are you ok?"
"What? No. Uh, sorry. Clothes aren't really my thing." She yawns slightly and moves to take a drink. It's empty.
"Well, ok then," he says, and takes a sip of his own. He watches her pour another drink. She avoids his gaze.
"Are you ok?" he asks again. She doesn't answer for a moment as she takes another drink.
"No. I… No. I'm fine. I just. In a day or so, it's all over." She sighs.
"Yeah," says Jack. "It is almost over." He settles into the cushions a bit more and downs his drink dry. There's a brief heady sensation as the spirit goes straight to his head; he should have put the gin before the tonic, probably. He puts the glass down and takes her hand in his. She turns to look at him. "But we've still got tomorrow." He lowers his voice and waggles his eyebrows. She rolls her eyes and punches him in the shoulder.
"Ow!"
She just laughs. He moves to make retribution and she pulls him on top of her. They continue to fight, laughing and snickering and breathing raggedly in their alcohol cloud. And suddenly Jenny stops, and looks him in the eye, and kisses him. It's hard and clumsy and she tastes like gin and lemon and quinine. And he really, really shouldn't be doing this, but damn if it doesn't feel good. After a minute, they stop for air, panting. Jenny's eyes are as hard as her kiss was, like she's daring him to turn away, to make it awkward, to back down. So he stays, his legs tangled in hers, chest to chest, double heartbeats to a single staccato heart. For a time, their breathing is the only thing in the room. He wants to move. Wants to ask her, why? But he doesn't. He just watches her watching him. After minutes or seconds maybe, he can't tell, her expression shifts. Her eyes soften; she moves her hand to his face. Gently, almost attentively, she touches his cheek.
"Thanks Jack," she whispers, and smiles.
He smiles too. "You're welcome, Jenny." He's not quite sure what he's being thanked for, but he sees it's important to her, so he swallows his questions. He looks down at her chest and back up again. "So…" he says. It breaks the mood.
"So…" says Jenny, grinning at him. "Nice holiday, huh?"
"Mmm," he agrees, and then pauses when she turns her head slightly at the sound of quick footsteps outside the door.
"Uh HA!" comes a triumphant cry as the door opens, and then, "Jenny?" There is a general moment of shock as three people stare at each other.
"Uh, hi, Dad." The silence tears like a ripped piece of paper.
"Jack!"
The eighth time is a quite a few years down the line for both of them.
Jack notices somewhat sadly that this Jenny's a little less innocent, a little less baby-faced. She hasn't regenerated, just aged. He doesn't know whether to be disappointed or relieved. She still has that endless energy about her, though. Mixed with her usual casual arrogance and mega-watt smile, she laughs and flirts with the same temerity as the last time he saw her. This time they're not Earth-side, but on a 47th century space station beside the Coraii Nebulae. It's one of the more stunningly beautiful things he's ever seen. The viewing decks are tasteful and typically bland, but Jack appreciates the juxtaposition of the dull dark interior with the brilliant technicolour display beyond the shielding. The Doctor lurks somewhere, doing his best to respect Jenny's space. It's a little endearing.
"Finally got him under control," Jack says lightly, after the Doctor gracefully maneuvers himself in a different direction, artfully avoiding eye contact by pretending to be immersed in the nearest potted plant.
Jenny shrugs. "It's… developing. Everyone's got to grow up sometime, even me." And she turns back to the view. Jack nods.
Eventually, the Doctor joins them. He stands a little way to the side, ever a watchful presence, but not at all uneasy. The Doctor actually has a genuine, warm smile on his face. It's peaceful. The immortal, the Time Lord, and the hybrid. Three silhouettes against the splendour of the universe.
The ninth time he sees her Jenny swings by in her very own Tardis hybrid.
"A hybrid Tardis for a hybrid Time Lord," Jenny says, and embraces him. She steps back so he can see it. "What do you think?"
It's fairly normal looking, on the outside at least. Much like the Doctor's Tardis, it's a plain looking wooden box, with a windowed door on one side. And yet, there seem to be strands of metal peeking around the entrance, growing into the walls itself, like a a kind of metal vine.
"Cool," he says. Jenny is obviously pleased. "But, why emerald green?"
Jenny shrugs and says: "It was one of the colours, of the ball of light, the terra forming device, back when I was first born. When I died." Jack nods, remembering the story she told him, of being born to war and Messaline and Hath and getting shot in the chest.
"Huh," he says.
"So..." Jenny steps back and opens the door. "You ready for an adventure, Captain?"
Jack smirks and shrugs his coat closer.
"You bet, GI Jenny."
And he walks her in, and follows her to the future.
The End
-Jenny/Jack - attraction and/or love. any scenario is fine by me. Just as long as I get AT LEAST a kiss. Any rating big or small is great.-Doctor Who.
Summary: And he really, really shouldn't be doing this, but damn if it doesn't feel good.
To ophelia_winters, this is all for you, I hope you like it.
Thanks to bugiarda, for the most fantastic beta-ing service.
Thanks to haro for himitsu_santa and general awesomeness, it was a wonderful secret santa experience.
Prompt at the end to avoid spoilers.
The First Nine Times
by midvacent
When he meets Jenny for the first time it takes a bit to get over the fact she's The Doctors Daughter, and yes, he thinks it in capitals, it's too mind blowing for him not to. The Doctor bounds out of the Tardis, and there she is, all charm and a brilliant smile, a confident bounce in her step. A wave to Martha, and then her eyes do the exploring for her. She shakes Jacks hand, they size each other up, with neither like nor dislike. Jenny takes a shine to Mickey, they share details about their favourite Big Fucking Guns, respectively. Jack winks at her when the Doctor isn't looking. She rolls her eyes, but grins at him secretly when she leaves. A message shared. A dare.
The second time he sees her, she promptly starts flirting with him. Jack tries his best to reciprocate in kind, dancing between the Doctor's incredibly dark looks. She's sweet and young and sexy as hell. Despite the fact she beats the crap out of him in an impromptu fight. The Doctor's more than a little proud when she emerges mostly unscathed, while Jack has to lean on Gwen for support as she delivers him to a snickering Martha. That's the last time he brags about his strength and stamina, when GI Jenny's around, anyway.
The third time, it's in a crisis. The world's gone to shit thanks to some alien threat or other and the Doctor has to step in to stop the end of the earth, again. Nothing new there. But Jack finds himself taking orders from her. She knows more about military tactics then he would have originally thought. He can't quite fathom why he finds himself submitting to her. Is it the fact she's like the Doctor? That unflinching stare she sets on him? That utterly grim look of determination? He doesn't get a moment to think until after, and even then, he's too drunk and just relieved to give it much thought.
The fourth time, he's a 'temporary companion'. That's how the Doctor puts it, anyway. It's fine by him. Ianto gets to come along too, this time. Ianto and the Doctor take to each other like long lost best cousins or something; he's torn between protectiveness and jealousy. He's not quite sure who those feelings are for. Jenny doesn't say anything. Just stands at his side, looks from him, to them, to him again. A smile on her face.
The fifth time's brief, just a fuel stop, but he sees her on the security cameras. She waves, mouths the words: Hello Captain! And then pops back inside again.
The sixth seems to be a change of roles, maybe. Jenny wants to stay, take a look at this primitive little planet. She spends the whole day with the team. Jack goes out with Gwen and Mickey on a weevil hunt that night. Of course, Jack has to order her not to go after them and of course, she ignores him. When they get back, the list of injuries include a bruised arm, a broken rib, a knock to the head and very nasty scratch. Luckily Jenny only has to worry about the first one. Still, the Doctor borders on complete manic over-protection and cold disapproval. In a spare moment Martha manages to gently pry the Doctor away and give everyone a much appreciated break. But even she can't hold him for long, soon he's back; hovering over Jenny and glowering at Jack. By the time Jenny and the Doctor leave, Jack's pretty sure he's on the shit-list.
Seven means something new; for the first time, they're un-chaperoned, as Jenny says gleefully. She's managed to get herself a kind of space-hopper. It's much like Jack's wristcomm except possibly more unstable. In honour of this he decides to indulge in one of the more cliché of holidays, a road trip. He takes a whole week off.
Ianto eyes him calmly from the door of the Tourist Office as he leaves. 'Come back,' he says.
Jack nods once. "Yeah," he says, "I'll do that."
Ianto smiles slightly. "Have fun." Jack grins at him and turns toward a week of freedom.
He makes sure to leave his mobile number on his desk where Ianto can find it. Though, Ianto would already know it, Jack thinks. Still, it's a gesture. He waits for a call about some emergency or other the entire trip, but it doesn't ring.
London isn't a new city for Jenny, but Jack tries to take her to some new places on the way. It's summer, and the countryside of Wales and England seem to actually be getting to know the sun. It's all very relaxed; wine-tasting and farmers markets. If there's one thing Jack knows can seduce people, its food. Not that he's trying to do that, of course.
Jenny, on her part, enjoys it all; flirting and laughing and snarking with him non-stop. It's only on Wednesday night when they're both tired and sun burnt and tipsy on gin and tonic that it goes anywhere near serious.
They're slouching on a rickety couch in their little hotel room. A rather large pile of bags sits on one of the double beds. He had taken her to The Arcade in Manchester that afternoon; but it seems Jack was the one who got the most out of it. "Of course, it's nothing like the shops on Bandraginus 5 - that whole planet's like a shop," he says. "But I do like the idea of recycled clothes. Someone else had a whole adventure in those jeans." He gestures to the plastic bag. Jenny nods along, a little sleepy. He grins and continues. "Or a whole life. You can last decades in a good pair a trousers, you know. You don't really need any more then two. You just rotate them…" Jack trails off. "Hey, are you ok?"
"What? No. Uh, sorry. Clothes aren't really my thing." She yawns slightly and moves to take a drink. It's empty.
"Well, ok then," he says, and takes a sip of his own. He watches her pour another drink. She avoids his gaze.
"Are you ok?" he asks again. She doesn't answer for a moment as she takes another drink.
"No. I… No. I'm fine. I just. In a day or so, it's all over." She sighs.
"Yeah," says Jack. "It is almost over." He settles into the cushions a bit more and downs his drink dry. There's a brief heady sensation as the spirit goes straight to his head; he should have put the gin before the tonic, probably. He puts the glass down and takes her hand in his. She turns to look at him. "But we've still got tomorrow." He lowers his voice and waggles his eyebrows. She rolls her eyes and punches him in the shoulder.
"Ow!"
She just laughs. He moves to make retribution and she pulls him on top of her. They continue to fight, laughing and snickering and breathing raggedly in their alcohol cloud. And suddenly Jenny stops, and looks him in the eye, and kisses him. It's hard and clumsy and she tastes like gin and lemon and quinine. And he really, really shouldn't be doing this, but damn if it doesn't feel good. After a minute, they stop for air, panting. Jenny's eyes are as hard as her kiss was, like she's daring him to turn away, to make it awkward, to back down. So he stays, his legs tangled in hers, chest to chest, double heartbeats to a single staccato heart. For a time, their breathing is the only thing in the room. He wants to move. Wants to ask her, why? But he doesn't. He just watches her watching him. After minutes or seconds maybe, he can't tell, her expression shifts. Her eyes soften; she moves her hand to his face. Gently, almost attentively, she touches his cheek.
"Thanks Jack," she whispers, and smiles.
He smiles too. "You're welcome, Jenny." He's not quite sure what he's being thanked for, but he sees it's important to her, so he swallows his questions. He looks down at her chest and back up again. "So…" he says. It breaks the mood.
"So…" says Jenny, grinning at him. "Nice holiday, huh?"
"Mmm," he agrees, and then pauses when she turns her head slightly at the sound of quick footsteps outside the door.
"Uh HA!" comes a triumphant cry as the door opens, and then, "Jenny?" There is a general moment of shock as three people stare at each other.
"Uh, hi, Dad." The silence tears like a ripped piece of paper.
"Jack!"
The eighth time is a quite a few years down the line for both of them.
Jack notices somewhat sadly that this Jenny's a little less innocent, a little less baby-faced. She hasn't regenerated, just aged. He doesn't know whether to be disappointed or relieved. She still has that endless energy about her, though. Mixed with her usual casual arrogance and mega-watt smile, she laughs and flirts with the same temerity as the last time he saw her. This time they're not Earth-side, but on a 47th century space station beside the Coraii Nebulae. It's one of the more stunningly beautiful things he's ever seen. The viewing decks are tasteful and typically bland, but Jack appreciates the juxtaposition of the dull dark interior with the brilliant technicolour display beyond the shielding. The Doctor lurks somewhere, doing his best to respect Jenny's space. It's a little endearing.
"Finally got him under control," Jack says lightly, after the Doctor gracefully maneuvers himself in a different direction, artfully avoiding eye contact by pretending to be immersed in the nearest potted plant.
Jenny shrugs. "It's… developing. Everyone's got to grow up sometime, even me." And she turns back to the view. Jack nods.
Eventually, the Doctor joins them. He stands a little way to the side, ever a watchful presence, but not at all uneasy. The Doctor actually has a genuine, warm smile on his face. It's peaceful. The immortal, the Time Lord, and the hybrid. Three silhouettes against the splendour of the universe.
The ninth time he sees her Jenny swings by in her very own Tardis hybrid.
"A hybrid Tardis for a hybrid Time Lord," Jenny says, and embraces him. She steps back so he can see it. "What do you think?"
It's fairly normal looking, on the outside at least. Much like the Doctor's Tardis, it's a plain looking wooden box, with a windowed door on one side. And yet, there seem to be strands of metal peeking around the entrance, growing into the walls itself, like a a kind of metal vine.
"Cool," he says. Jenny is obviously pleased. "But, why emerald green?"
Jenny shrugs and says: "It was one of the colours, of the ball of light, the terra forming device, back when I was first born. When I died." Jack nods, remembering the story she told him, of being born to war and Messaline and Hath and getting shot in the chest.
"Huh," he says.
"So..." Jenny steps back and opens the door. "You ready for an adventure, Captain?"
Jack smirks and shrugs his coat closer.
"You bet, GI Jenny."
And he walks her in, and follows her to the future.
The End
-Jenny/Jack - attraction and/or love. any scenario is fine by me. Just as long as I get AT LEAST a kiss. Any rating big or small is great.-Doctor Who.