[Doctor Who] The Favorite (PG-13)
Author's Note: Written for < lj user="wintercompanion">'s Whump Challenge. Also used the Porn Battle XV prompt "Tenth Doctor/Jack Harkness, reunited, mpreg," Jack/Ten, implied Jack/OMC. Warning for: Implied questionable consent, slavery, implied rough sex, discussions of abortion, violence, Jack-related death, offscreen miscarriage.
"The bloody nerve of him!" an indignant female shout echoed through the perfumed halls and chambers of the hareem belonging to the Sultan of Matrosha-4. Jack, lounging on a heap of cushions in one of the salons while pretending to browse the selections on an e-book pad, smirked to himself, hiding the smirk as the owner of the shouts stormed into the salon. Donna Noble loomed over him like an indignant goddess in a filmy violet tunic over billowy pants to match, her arms folded on her chest, her delicate nostrils flared.
"And why aren't you doing your share keeping these guards off me?" she snapped.
"Because I'm the Sultan's current favorite and I'm supposed to keep out of anything that might stress me out," Jack replied at a normal volume, while he jotted something on the write pad, holding it up for her to read. I know a girl who knows an otherwise defined who can get a message to our mutual friend.
Donna looked relieved, breathing easier for a moment, but her fury had only slightly abated. "And what is that supposed to mean? Sittin' on yer handsome arse eatin' grapes?"
"Pretty much: grapes are supposed to raise one's fertility," Jack replied, lightly. "His Highness is known to grant special favors to the one who gives him a child."
"You keep him, flyboy," she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest, but looking hopefully at the e-book pad. He handed it up to her; she eyed it, then took it and after a moment's puzzling, traced a message on the write pad before handing it back to him.
how soon can you get that message out?
He dropped her a wink, then traced a reply. Already got sent. Now we just need to wait for the daring rescue, complete with those wheezy windy noises coming into your bedroom.
Donna gave him a look that could vaporize Plasioclage steel, then jotted a message back. Not in my bedroom. you come looking for me when he shows up in yours.
He grinned and nudged her legs with his shoulder, then jotted back a message. I might get distracted with the reunion.
She emitted a harrumph and banged back a message. Don't you dare get so busy you forget to find me, you casanova
He snickered and shot back a reply. My best student ever.
She blinked. you taught casanova? you knew casanova?
Jack had started to jot back a reply, when one of the eunuchs who watched over the women -- and men and trees and otherwise defineds -- of the hareem approached, pointed at Jack and becoming him to follow. Jack rose, handing the pad off to Donna. "Sorry, we'll finish the story later: the lord and master has need of me."
Somehow in the meantime, Jack had pulled up an e-book of Casanova's autobiography, something to keep her occupied, but she knew she would have a hard time focusing on the book, knowing Jack had to keep the Sultan happy.
The Sultan must have wanted Jack for an especially long session: Donna had to listen to the dull chatter of the ladies of the hareem: worse than listening to Nerys blithering about her shopping and the bargains she had picked up. Night fell and the second moon had risen, lighting the small, perfumed cubicle she shared with Jack, and she had settled down on the heap of pillows they called a bed before she heard footsteps approach. Two guards, one masculine, one feminine approached, carrying something between them which they laid beside her.
She sat up, looking at the bundle collapsed on the pillows, then reached out to it. "Ugh," it groaned, then propped itself up on one elbow.
"Jack, what'd that selfish loon do to you?" she asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.
"Nothing I ain't had done before; used to be the personal dart board for someone just as powerful and just as mad," Jack said, laying his head on the pillow beside her. The moonlight showed a cut on Jack's lip and a gash over his eye, both visibly closing before her eyes. "Sultan likes it rough once in a while."
"You let him do this?" she asked.
"Keeps him off you," Jack said, closing his eyes. She drew his head onto her lap and held him, looking through the lattices to the stars, wishing that she could see a blue box hurtling through the sky, coming toward them, coming to save them.
She must have fallen asleep, since she felt her eyes opening and found herself curled up on the pillows, daylight spilling over her, her head on Jack's lap. She heard footsteps approaching again. "Boss man wants my company for breakfast and I'm the main course?" he asked. She wanted to jump up and yell at the guards, to try and throw something at them as they pulled Jack to his feet and lead him away, but fat lot that would do.
She did not see Jack for the rest of the day, nor that evening, nor the next, nor the day after that. Finally, she demanded one of the other women tell her: "Where's Jack? Where are they hiding him now?"
"Don't speak so loud and I tell you," the woman said, pulling her arm from under Donna's hand.
"All right," Donna said, bringing her voice down several decibels. "Where is Jack? Where are they hiding him now?"
The woman lifted one filmy sleeve over her mouth, her eyes crinkling up and her mouth gathering in a bow. "There's a baby growing up inside Jack."
"A b--!" Donna nearly yelped, shocked, but stopped herself. The Doctor had told her about Jack's ability to accommodate a wide range of partners, but what that meant had escaped her.
The woman giggled. "He have woman parts as well as man."
Donna nearly let loose a yelp of confusion, but she stopped herself, keeping her promise to the woman. "Do I want to know how you know that?"
"I share pillow with he and Sultan," the woman chirped, giggling.
"Oh, I can't listen to this," Donna groaned, rubbing her temples with both hands.
The woman looked at her, the giggling and the crinkling fading. "You love Jack?"
"I traveled with him," Donna said, looking down.
She reached out and patted Donna's hand. "I let you alone." And she moved away, joining the other women as they fluttered about arranging flowers that the gardener had brought in. Donna looked away, gazing out the latticed window, into the garden, looking for a blue box.
* * * *
Halfway across the Isop Galaxy, the Doctor fought to pilot the TARDIS out of a gas cloud that had generated a gravity well, the most recent pothole he had hit while trying to follow the slavers who had captured Donna and Jack. "Does this have anything to do with the time you ran from him? Jack doesn't mean any harm," the Doctor muttered, bashing at several buttons on the console, then scurrying around it to throw a switch mean to tighten the gravity dampers. An alarm went off on another section of the console. "Oh nononono! Don't talk like that! Donna's involved, too: I thought you liked her?" he begged, throwing another switch, canceling the alarm. If only he hadn't been so careless: he should have known that last planet the three of them had visited would bring them trouble: New Ishtar, home of a half-grav circus, but also a spot where Jack had had some history, something involving a fake fertility cult, a scam that he and River Song had run. His wily friend had had reservations about going back, but Donna had pleaded. He had thought that Jack had merely gotten himself in trouble with someone's daughter. Or son. Or wife. Or husband, for that matter. He should have asked, oh, he should have *asked*.
He felt the TARDIS lurch and break free of the gravity well, then drop into the time vortex. "Yes! Oh, you sexy thing, I could kiss you!" he said, patting the console as if giving the TARDIS an encouraging pat on the back. He punched the coordinates for Matrosha-4, with the time stamp that an old Time Agency friend of Jack's had passed on to him....
* * * *
Finding a way to get closer to Jack had proved easier than Donna had thought: she kicked one of the guards in the shins one day when that guard had tried to escort her to the Sultan's chamber. That had gotten her shut up in a small cell of a room, but the next day, one of the maids came to let her out and handed her a uniform. "You put this on: you scrub floors now," the maid said.
"Oh, is this some kind of a step up in the world?" Donna grumbled, not taking the clothes just yet.
"Sultan's favorite got this post for you," the maid replied. "Sultan wanted to send you away, sell you back to the slavers. His favorite plead for you to stay."
Donna felt her jaw drop, then she pulled up her chin again. "His favorite? Jack?"
"Sultan can't refuse the one who carries his child and heir," the maid said.
Donna took the clothes. "Give me a mop, I'll clean toilets if that's what it takes."
Most of the time, her duties involved sweeping floors and dusting tables and trinkets. But each day, she and one other maid had different wings to clean, on a rotating basis. After a few days, they had the apartment below the Sultan's rooms, with an occupant she recognized immediately, as he reclined on a divan in the middle of the main room, a simple grey robe replacing the filmy things he had worn before
"Jack?"
"The lady of the red hair herself: working a dust mop now?" he asked, grinning, though the smile did not quite reach his pale eyes.
"Better than gettin' sold again," Donna said, propping her dust mop against a table and coming to Jack's side.
Her co-servant darted a worried look at Donna. "We stop, we get in trouble."
"Nonsense: you ladies take a rest; tell the head mop-lady the favorite says you can," Jack said, beckoning them both to sit on the divan. Donna did, but her co-worker remained standing, hands clasped before her.
"You look good," Donna said, then with a bit of a smirk, she added, "You always look good."
"Wish I could say I feel as good as I do," Jack said, glancing down at himself, the folds of the tunic hiding whatever sign of his condition might show. "Can't keep a bite down, which makes me wonder how this one's gonna turn out."
"You're keeping it?" she asked, dry-mouthed.
"Bit of my insurance," Jack admitted. "I just wish it was his."
"His... the Doctor's? You mean you...?" Donna felt her cheekbones burn and her eyes narrow.
Jack grinned. "Is that a hint of jealousy I detect?" he asked. Then more serious, he added, "He had a couple spots on my dance card. Once, a long time ago, and once a bit more recently."
"You wish it was his, why?" she said.
"It'd sit better with me: went through this some time ago, really not looking forward to a second go," he admitted.
"Morning sickness? swollen ankles?" she asked.
"First one was the death of me. Literally. Pelvic opening was too small. Wouldn't've been bad if someone thought to do a C-section on me," Jack replied.
"Must've been horrible," Donna said. "People say that men ought to have the babies so they can see what it's like to go to all the trouble to pop one out. Guess they didn't think it through."
"Neither did the scientists who designed the ancestors I got this talent from," Jack replied, sympathizing. "Take it you had similar thoughts."
"Had a co-worker got knocked-up. Tosser of a boyfriend got her that way: wouldn't stay around to support 'er," she admitted.
"Now there's the kind who deserves to get that way," Jack said, dryly. He reached out, putting a hand on hers. "You keep watching the skies for our mutual friend. I'll make sure you stay where you are: don't have to tell you it's better off mopping floors."
"Who you looking for?" the maid asked.
"A man in a blue box. We traveled with him," Donna said, getting up and fetching her mop. To the maid, she asked, "If you see it, you find me and Jack. We're not staying if he turns up."
The maid listened to this, then nodded. "I do this: you do not belong here. You think too well."
"What's your name?" Donna said, realizing she had never thought to ask till now.
"Jissa," the maid said.
"Well, Jissa, if you ever wanted to do any traveling, we'd have a place for you," Jack offered.
"You do this?" Jissa asked, her orange eyes widening.
"You're helping us: we'd help you," Donna said. "Come on: the head maid will get on our backs, even if Jack's the Sultan's favorite."
* * * *
The TARDIS bucked and kicked through the Time Vortex, like a lively horse refusing to take a particular path. The Doctor had to take a mallet to the buttons, hitting them almost as hard as he could. "Why are you fighting me?!" he snarled. The dates on the monitor above the console spiraled madly between past and future, avoiding the present, avoiding the time/space coordinates he had set like a recalcitrant child avoiding an important homework assignment. "Go where I sent you: go there for Donna!"
The console blooped and the TARDIS lurched sideways then the numbers on the monitor scrolled forward, rushing toward the coordinates he had set.
"Yes! Oh, you beautiful thing," he said, leaning down to kiss the console.
* * * *
Early one morning, a month after Donna's job transfer, she and Jissa had started dust mopping the tiles of the arcade that surrounded one of the inner gardens, when over the tinkle of the fountains and the chirping of tri-crickets in the trees, she heard that sound, that glorious grinding wheezing rumbling sound. Donna looked up to spy, at the far end of the quadrangle, a blue tinged shadow in between some shrubs, a shadow that solidified into a blue box.
"It's him," Donna said, grabbing Jissa's arm.
"The man with the box?"
"Yes, oh yes," Donna said, squeezing her friend's arm. "Go get Jack, go get the Favorite. And hurry!"
"Indeed, Donna," Jissa said, tucking up her skirts and hurrying inside.
Donna flung down her dust mop and ran through the garden. The door of the TARDIS opened and the Doctor sped out, running into her arms, hugging her as if they had not seen each other in centuries. And for all she knew, he had taken that long to get there.
"Oh, you long streak of nothing, what took you so long?!" Donna said.
"Had a little trouble getting here: the TARDIS malfunctioned," the Doctor said. "She doesn't like Jack."
Donna glared at the TARDIS: as relieved as she felt to see it, she wanted to kick its paneled sides and go inside to beat on the console. "Oh, when I get inside, I'm going to have *words* with it," Donna snarled.
"Sh-sh-sh-sh! She'll hear you," the Doctor whispered. "Where's Jack?"
"He's the Sultan's favorite: got himself knocked-up," Donna said, with a sigh.
"That's so him," the Doctor said, shaking his head.
"Got us an advantage: Sultan wants an heir," Donna said, rolling her eyes. "Maid's off fetching him."
"Looks like you've been Mrs. Mops yourself," the Doctor said, looking up and down her black tunic.
"It was better than waiting on His Majesty's pleasure," Donna snipped.
A scurry of footsteps rattled on the gravel of the path and Jissa burst through some hedges, Jack leaning heavily on her shoulder, a short-handled spear jutting from his back, the point sticking from under his breastbone.
"Get me inside, I won't last," Jack panted. "Guards are onto us."
The Doctor bulled open the door to the TARDIS, holding it open. "In! In! In! No looking back! No time!" Jissa hurried Jack through the door, Donna on her heels. Glancing outside, the Doctor saw several guards with more spears rushing for the door. He slammed it shut and bolted for the console, hitting several switches to send the TARDIS into the safety of the vortex.
"Doctor, we need to get this spear out," Donna begged.
"Just pull it out, I'm a goner either way," Jack said, slumped against a column, his eyes already glassy. Jissa, hanging onto him, wound up on her knees.
"He die," Jissa said, concerned.
"Won't stick, I can promise that," the Doctor said, looking to Jack.
"He lose the baby," Jissa said.
"Didn't exactly ask for this," Jack said, closing his eyes, letting his head sink back.
"Someone stop his suffering!" Donna shouted, and reaching behind Jack, she yanked the spear free. Jack's head went slack against the column. Jissa let out a howl, jumping away from Jack, her hands clamped over her face.
The Doctor went to Jissa's side, kneeling down to put a hand on her shoulder. "No, no, no, don't be scared: Jack's talented. Dying doesn't like him much."
Donna knelt beside Jack, hoping the Doctor spoke the truth. She watched as the wound in Jack's chest, visible through the rend in his tunic, closed up. His head jerked up and he gasped, drawing in a breath and letting it out. Jissa yelped, jumping back.
"Ugh, I'm... I'm back," Jack panted. "Did I miss anything?"
"Only Jissa panicking," Donna said, reached out to Jissa's hands, helping her up. "Come, love, let me help you to my room, I'll make you some tea."
"Better get me to the infirmary," Jack said, as the Doctor helped him up.
"Oh no, I'm taking you someplace more quiet," the Doctor said, helping Jack to his own quarters.
Several hours later, Jack lay wrapped in a blanket on the bed in the Doctor's cabin, pillows under his head, the Doctor sitting beside him, an arm under his shoulders.
"The maid?" the Doctor asked. "Oh, no, poor thing's a wreck from all she went through: just wants to go home to her family. We're heading for her home planet right now."
"Good to hear. She's a good kid," Jack said. "Didn't deserve any of that. At least she'll get to go home where she wants to be. She's got a family looking for her: poor folk, no resources to find her, or precious little. Like my family." Jack's eyes went solemn, clearly thinking of the brother that had vanished, the lengths he went to, trying to find Grey.
"Till you and Donna found her, helped her escape," the Doctor noted. Still, he had to ask. "Why, Jack, why that far?"
"Didn't have any other way out of it, other than on my back with my thighs apart," Jack said, trying to grumble, but failing.
"But letting him impregnate you," the Doctor said.
Jack lifted his head to meet the Doctor's gaze. "Had to take a gamble, that was my hole card. Not that I wanted to play it, but it came to that.
"If it's any consolation, if I had to do it again, I'd rather you were the other father," Jack said.
"What? Oh, no... not that, no..." the Doctor sputtered.
"Not right away, you darling idiot of a Time Lord," Jack replied. "I'll need some time to heal up. And time for my cycle to come around, which won't be for another season." The wavery smile that had to quirk the corners of his mouth faded away. "Not that I really want to even think about that for a while. I have several exes who would find that hard to believe."
"Can see why they'd be exes, for thinking like that," the Doctor said, angling Jack's head toward his shoulder companionably.
"Makes me glad you found me," Jack murmured, closing his eyes, tiredly and nestling closer, just seeking warmth and comfort.
"The bloody nerve of him!" an indignant female shout echoed through the perfumed halls and chambers of the hareem belonging to the Sultan of Matrosha-4. Jack, lounging on a heap of cushions in one of the salons while pretending to browse the selections on an e-book pad, smirked to himself, hiding the smirk as the owner of the shouts stormed into the salon. Donna Noble loomed over him like an indignant goddess in a filmy violet tunic over billowy pants to match, her arms folded on her chest, her delicate nostrils flared.
"And why aren't you doing your share keeping these guards off me?" she snapped.
"Because I'm the Sultan's current favorite and I'm supposed to keep out of anything that might stress me out," Jack replied at a normal volume, while he jotted something on the write pad, holding it up for her to read. I know a girl who knows an otherwise defined who can get a message to our mutual friend.
Donna looked relieved, breathing easier for a moment, but her fury had only slightly abated. "And what is that supposed to mean? Sittin' on yer handsome arse eatin' grapes?"
"Pretty much: grapes are supposed to raise one's fertility," Jack replied, lightly. "His Highness is known to grant special favors to the one who gives him a child."
"You keep him, flyboy," she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest, but looking hopefully at the e-book pad. He handed it up to her; she eyed it, then took it and after a moment's puzzling, traced a message on the write pad before handing it back to him.
how soon can you get that message out?
He dropped her a wink, then traced a reply. Already got sent. Now we just need to wait for the daring rescue, complete with those wheezy windy noises coming into your bedroom.
Donna gave him a look that could vaporize Plasioclage steel, then jotted a message back. Not in my bedroom. you come looking for me when he shows up in yours.
He grinned and nudged her legs with his shoulder, then jotted back a message. I might get distracted with the reunion.
She emitted a harrumph and banged back a message. Don't you dare get so busy you forget to find me, you casanova
He snickered and shot back a reply. My best student ever.
She blinked. you taught casanova? you knew casanova?
Jack had started to jot back a reply, when one of the eunuchs who watched over the women -- and men and trees and otherwise defineds -- of the hareem approached, pointed at Jack and becoming him to follow. Jack rose, handing the pad off to Donna. "Sorry, we'll finish the story later: the lord and master has need of me."
Somehow in the meantime, Jack had pulled up an e-book of Casanova's autobiography, something to keep her occupied, but she knew she would have a hard time focusing on the book, knowing Jack had to keep the Sultan happy.
The Sultan must have wanted Jack for an especially long session: Donna had to listen to the dull chatter of the ladies of the hareem: worse than listening to Nerys blithering about her shopping and the bargains she had picked up. Night fell and the second moon had risen, lighting the small, perfumed cubicle she shared with Jack, and she had settled down on the heap of pillows they called a bed before she heard footsteps approach. Two guards, one masculine, one feminine approached, carrying something between them which they laid beside her.
She sat up, looking at the bundle collapsed on the pillows, then reached out to it. "Ugh," it groaned, then propped itself up on one elbow.
"Jack, what'd that selfish loon do to you?" she asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.
"Nothing I ain't had done before; used to be the personal dart board for someone just as powerful and just as mad," Jack said, laying his head on the pillow beside her. The moonlight showed a cut on Jack's lip and a gash over his eye, both visibly closing before her eyes. "Sultan likes it rough once in a while."
"You let him do this?" she asked.
"Keeps him off you," Jack said, closing his eyes. She drew his head onto her lap and held him, looking through the lattices to the stars, wishing that she could see a blue box hurtling through the sky, coming toward them, coming to save them.
She must have fallen asleep, since she felt her eyes opening and found herself curled up on the pillows, daylight spilling over her, her head on Jack's lap. She heard footsteps approaching again. "Boss man wants my company for breakfast and I'm the main course?" he asked. She wanted to jump up and yell at the guards, to try and throw something at them as they pulled Jack to his feet and lead him away, but fat lot that would do.
She did not see Jack for the rest of the day, nor that evening, nor the next, nor the day after that. Finally, she demanded one of the other women tell her: "Where's Jack? Where are they hiding him now?"
"Don't speak so loud and I tell you," the woman said, pulling her arm from under Donna's hand.
"All right," Donna said, bringing her voice down several decibels. "Where is Jack? Where are they hiding him now?"
The woman lifted one filmy sleeve over her mouth, her eyes crinkling up and her mouth gathering in a bow. "There's a baby growing up inside Jack."
"A b--!" Donna nearly yelped, shocked, but stopped herself. The Doctor had told her about Jack's ability to accommodate a wide range of partners, but what that meant had escaped her.
The woman giggled. "He have woman parts as well as man."
Donna nearly let loose a yelp of confusion, but she stopped herself, keeping her promise to the woman. "Do I want to know how you know that?"
"I share pillow with he and Sultan," the woman chirped, giggling.
"Oh, I can't listen to this," Donna groaned, rubbing her temples with both hands.
The woman looked at her, the giggling and the crinkling fading. "You love Jack?"
"I traveled with him," Donna said, looking down.
She reached out and patted Donna's hand. "I let you alone." And she moved away, joining the other women as they fluttered about arranging flowers that the gardener had brought in. Donna looked away, gazing out the latticed window, into the garden, looking for a blue box.
* * * *
Halfway across the Isop Galaxy, the Doctor fought to pilot the TARDIS out of a gas cloud that had generated a gravity well, the most recent pothole he had hit while trying to follow the slavers who had captured Donna and Jack. "Does this have anything to do with the time you ran from him? Jack doesn't mean any harm," the Doctor muttered, bashing at several buttons on the console, then scurrying around it to throw a switch mean to tighten the gravity dampers. An alarm went off on another section of the console. "Oh nononono! Don't talk like that! Donna's involved, too: I thought you liked her?" he begged, throwing another switch, canceling the alarm. If only he hadn't been so careless: he should have known that last planet the three of them had visited would bring them trouble: New Ishtar, home of a half-grav circus, but also a spot where Jack had had some history, something involving a fake fertility cult, a scam that he and River Song had run. His wily friend had had reservations about going back, but Donna had pleaded. He had thought that Jack had merely gotten himself in trouble with someone's daughter. Or son. Or wife. Or husband, for that matter. He should have asked, oh, he should have *asked*.
He felt the TARDIS lurch and break free of the gravity well, then drop into the time vortex. "Yes! Oh, you sexy thing, I could kiss you!" he said, patting the console as if giving the TARDIS an encouraging pat on the back. He punched the coordinates for Matrosha-4, with the time stamp that an old Time Agency friend of Jack's had passed on to him....
* * * *
Finding a way to get closer to Jack had proved easier than Donna had thought: she kicked one of the guards in the shins one day when that guard had tried to escort her to the Sultan's chamber. That had gotten her shut up in a small cell of a room, but the next day, one of the maids came to let her out and handed her a uniform. "You put this on: you scrub floors now," the maid said.
"Oh, is this some kind of a step up in the world?" Donna grumbled, not taking the clothes just yet.
"Sultan's favorite got this post for you," the maid replied. "Sultan wanted to send you away, sell you back to the slavers. His favorite plead for you to stay."
Donna felt her jaw drop, then she pulled up her chin again. "His favorite? Jack?"
"Sultan can't refuse the one who carries his child and heir," the maid said.
Donna took the clothes. "Give me a mop, I'll clean toilets if that's what it takes."
Most of the time, her duties involved sweeping floors and dusting tables and trinkets. But each day, she and one other maid had different wings to clean, on a rotating basis. After a few days, they had the apartment below the Sultan's rooms, with an occupant she recognized immediately, as he reclined on a divan in the middle of the main room, a simple grey robe replacing the filmy things he had worn before
"Jack?"
"The lady of the red hair herself: working a dust mop now?" he asked, grinning, though the smile did not quite reach his pale eyes.
"Better than gettin' sold again," Donna said, propping her dust mop against a table and coming to Jack's side.
Her co-servant darted a worried look at Donna. "We stop, we get in trouble."
"Nonsense: you ladies take a rest; tell the head mop-lady the favorite says you can," Jack said, beckoning them both to sit on the divan. Donna did, but her co-worker remained standing, hands clasped before her.
"You look good," Donna said, then with a bit of a smirk, she added, "You always look good."
"Wish I could say I feel as good as I do," Jack said, glancing down at himself, the folds of the tunic hiding whatever sign of his condition might show. "Can't keep a bite down, which makes me wonder how this one's gonna turn out."
"You're keeping it?" she asked, dry-mouthed.
"Bit of my insurance," Jack admitted. "I just wish it was his."
"His... the Doctor's? You mean you...?" Donna felt her cheekbones burn and her eyes narrow.
Jack grinned. "Is that a hint of jealousy I detect?" he asked. Then more serious, he added, "He had a couple spots on my dance card. Once, a long time ago, and once a bit more recently."
"You wish it was his, why?" she said.
"It'd sit better with me: went through this some time ago, really not looking forward to a second go," he admitted.
"Morning sickness? swollen ankles?" she asked.
"First one was the death of me. Literally. Pelvic opening was too small. Wouldn't've been bad if someone thought to do a C-section on me," Jack replied.
"Must've been horrible," Donna said. "People say that men ought to have the babies so they can see what it's like to go to all the trouble to pop one out. Guess they didn't think it through."
"Neither did the scientists who designed the ancestors I got this talent from," Jack replied, sympathizing. "Take it you had similar thoughts."
"Had a co-worker got knocked-up. Tosser of a boyfriend got her that way: wouldn't stay around to support 'er," she admitted.
"Now there's the kind who deserves to get that way," Jack said, dryly. He reached out, putting a hand on hers. "You keep watching the skies for our mutual friend. I'll make sure you stay where you are: don't have to tell you it's better off mopping floors."
"Who you looking for?" the maid asked.
"A man in a blue box. We traveled with him," Donna said, getting up and fetching her mop. To the maid, she asked, "If you see it, you find me and Jack. We're not staying if he turns up."
The maid listened to this, then nodded. "I do this: you do not belong here. You think too well."
"What's your name?" Donna said, realizing she had never thought to ask till now.
"Jissa," the maid said.
"Well, Jissa, if you ever wanted to do any traveling, we'd have a place for you," Jack offered.
"You do this?" Jissa asked, her orange eyes widening.
"You're helping us: we'd help you," Donna said. "Come on: the head maid will get on our backs, even if Jack's the Sultan's favorite."
* * * *
The TARDIS bucked and kicked through the Time Vortex, like a lively horse refusing to take a particular path. The Doctor had to take a mallet to the buttons, hitting them almost as hard as he could. "Why are you fighting me?!" he snarled. The dates on the monitor above the console spiraled madly between past and future, avoiding the present, avoiding the time/space coordinates he had set like a recalcitrant child avoiding an important homework assignment. "Go where I sent you: go there for Donna!"
The console blooped and the TARDIS lurched sideways then the numbers on the monitor scrolled forward, rushing toward the coordinates he had set.
"Yes! Oh, you beautiful thing," he said, leaning down to kiss the console.
* * * *
Early one morning, a month after Donna's job transfer, she and Jissa had started dust mopping the tiles of the arcade that surrounded one of the inner gardens, when over the tinkle of the fountains and the chirping of tri-crickets in the trees, she heard that sound, that glorious grinding wheezing rumbling sound. Donna looked up to spy, at the far end of the quadrangle, a blue tinged shadow in between some shrubs, a shadow that solidified into a blue box.
"It's him," Donna said, grabbing Jissa's arm.
"The man with the box?"
"Yes, oh yes," Donna said, squeezing her friend's arm. "Go get Jack, go get the Favorite. And hurry!"
"Indeed, Donna," Jissa said, tucking up her skirts and hurrying inside.
Donna flung down her dust mop and ran through the garden. The door of the TARDIS opened and the Doctor sped out, running into her arms, hugging her as if they had not seen each other in centuries. And for all she knew, he had taken that long to get there.
"Oh, you long streak of nothing, what took you so long?!" Donna said.
"Had a little trouble getting here: the TARDIS malfunctioned," the Doctor said. "She doesn't like Jack."
Donna glared at the TARDIS: as relieved as she felt to see it, she wanted to kick its paneled sides and go inside to beat on the console. "Oh, when I get inside, I'm going to have *words* with it," Donna snarled.
"Sh-sh-sh-sh! She'll hear you," the Doctor whispered. "Where's Jack?"
"He's the Sultan's favorite: got himself knocked-up," Donna said, with a sigh.
"That's so him," the Doctor said, shaking his head.
"Got us an advantage: Sultan wants an heir," Donna said, rolling her eyes. "Maid's off fetching him."
"Looks like you've been Mrs. Mops yourself," the Doctor said, looking up and down her black tunic.
"It was better than waiting on His Majesty's pleasure," Donna snipped.
A scurry of footsteps rattled on the gravel of the path and Jissa burst through some hedges, Jack leaning heavily on her shoulder, a short-handled spear jutting from his back, the point sticking from under his breastbone.
"Get me inside, I won't last," Jack panted. "Guards are onto us."
The Doctor bulled open the door to the TARDIS, holding it open. "In! In! In! No looking back! No time!" Jissa hurried Jack through the door, Donna on her heels. Glancing outside, the Doctor saw several guards with more spears rushing for the door. He slammed it shut and bolted for the console, hitting several switches to send the TARDIS into the safety of the vortex.
"Doctor, we need to get this spear out," Donna begged.
"Just pull it out, I'm a goner either way," Jack said, slumped against a column, his eyes already glassy. Jissa, hanging onto him, wound up on her knees.
"He die," Jissa said, concerned.
"Won't stick, I can promise that," the Doctor said, looking to Jack.
"He lose the baby," Jissa said.
"Didn't exactly ask for this," Jack said, closing his eyes, letting his head sink back.
"Someone stop his suffering!" Donna shouted, and reaching behind Jack, she yanked the spear free. Jack's head went slack against the column. Jissa let out a howl, jumping away from Jack, her hands clamped over her face.
The Doctor went to Jissa's side, kneeling down to put a hand on her shoulder. "No, no, no, don't be scared: Jack's talented. Dying doesn't like him much."
Donna knelt beside Jack, hoping the Doctor spoke the truth. She watched as the wound in Jack's chest, visible through the rend in his tunic, closed up. His head jerked up and he gasped, drawing in a breath and letting it out. Jissa yelped, jumping back.
"Ugh, I'm... I'm back," Jack panted. "Did I miss anything?"
"Only Jissa panicking," Donna said, reached out to Jissa's hands, helping her up. "Come, love, let me help you to my room, I'll make you some tea."
"Better get me to the infirmary," Jack said, as the Doctor helped him up.
"Oh no, I'm taking you someplace more quiet," the Doctor said, helping Jack to his own quarters.
Several hours later, Jack lay wrapped in a blanket on the bed in the Doctor's cabin, pillows under his head, the Doctor sitting beside him, an arm under his shoulders.
"The maid?" the Doctor asked. "Oh, no, poor thing's a wreck from all she went through: just wants to go home to her family. We're heading for her home planet right now."
"Good to hear. She's a good kid," Jack said. "Didn't deserve any of that. At least she'll get to go home where she wants to be. She's got a family looking for her: poor folk, no resources to find her, or precious little. Like my family." Jack's eyes went solemn, clearly thinking of the brother that had vanished, the lengths he went to, trying to find Grey.
"Till you and Donna found her, helped her escape," the Doctor noted. Still, he had to ask. "Why, Jack, why that far?"
"Didn't have any other way out of it, other than on my back with my thighs apart," Jack said, trying to grumble, but failing.
"But letting him impregnate you," the Doctor said.
Jack lifted his head to meet the Doctor's gaze. "Had to take a gamble, that was my hole card. Not that I wanted to play it, but it came to that.
"If it's any consolation, if I had to do it again, I'd rather you were the other father," Jack said.
"What? Oh, no... not that, no..." the Doctor sputtered.
"Not right away, you darling idiot of a Time Lord," Jack replied. "I'll need some time to heal up. And time for my cycle to come around, which won't be for another season." The wavery smile that had to quirk the corners of his mouth faded away. "Not that I really want to even think about that for a while. I have several exes who would find that hard to believe."
"Can see why they'd be exes, for thinking like that," the Doctor said, angling Jack's head toward his shoulder companionably.
"Makes me glad you found me," Jack murmured, closing his eyes, tiredly and nestling closer, just seeking warmth and comfort.