The sixteenth time
Fic: The sixteenth time
Regeneration universe
Characters: Archie, Horatio, Jack.
Rating: PG
Based on a variety of ideas from people including jesstercat
Note: These folk belong to other people.
“What the hell are you doing here?” The thunder of a distant gun echoed clearly below Priam’s decks, sounding much more plainly in Kennedy’s ears down below than it had up in the open air.
The unexpected guest groaned, strained his neck until it clicked, grinned and then shook his wrist. “The Doctor has a habit of fixing this, on and off. Happens to be an on time at the moment. So I’m here.”
“So I see - and do I have to ask why? We’re in the line of battle, Jack - approaching the enemy fleet. Horatio will have enough on his mind without having to explain away your presence to the crew.” He considered the visitor. “At least you got togged up properly.”
Harkness grinned again. “I borrowed this from the wardrobe of that film that Horatio really likes - not the one about him, the one about the proper sea battle.”
“It looks like Tom Pulling’s rig. The one in the DVD, not the real one; however did you cram your tummy into that?”
“I got Ianto to let it out a touch. And I exercised. And I left off the sticky toffee pudding. Anyway, I’m here and I have news to impart, pretty important stuff.”
Archie groaned. “Has one of your villains from the future gone wandering off again? Have we not enough to cope with, squaring up against Napoleon?”
“There are some people who make Old Bonesapart look like your Aunt Maud. And don’t ask how I knew you had one. I have to talk to Horatio - he can say that I’m a technical adviser or something.”
“You need to do your homework, Jack. You might have advisers or spin doctors or whatever Ianto used to call them, back in the twenty first century - send down to snoop from Whitehall- but Horatio Hornblower would not brook one on his ship and he’d not pretend you were one.” Kennedy put his head to one side like a bird, thinking intensely for a moment. “You’ll have to be an envoy from Admiral Pellew - we had a party of captains come aboard last night and it would be easy enough to say that you’d arrived with them. The officers will believe anything Horatio tells them and the crew will think that you’re a spy in King George’s service and keep out of your way. Come on, let’s go and find my captain.”
“Aw, and I always hoped you’d call me that one day.”
“In your dreams, Jack.”
***
Horatio Hornblower eyed the visitor to his cabin with a degree of suspicion; he and Jack may have reached a truce and be almost on friendly terms but he still didn’t really trust the man as far as he could throw him. Especially with the news he’d just delivered. “Mr Harkness, are you seriously suggesting that we make a point of not attacking the fourth ship in the French line?”
Jack nodded. “The Striad; yes. As I said, she’s carrying someone whose life is worth a damn sight more to the future of this world than the outcome of this particular engagement.”
Horatio rolled his eyes. “Another one of these enigmatic occurrences of space and time?”
If Jack noticed the irony in the captain’s voice he did not show it. “You’ve got it. That man needs to live to sire a child and set up a dynasty or else the whole world goes to pot. And there’ll be no Cardiff for you to go dancing in so what happens to your past and future who knows?” He grinned. “The guy is likely down below or whatever you call it, so as long as you don’t sink the bloody thing, you should be OK.”
“And what about the rest of the fleet? We likely engage the French in no more than an hour - how can I think of some convincing strategy to tell them about why we should let that ship escape scot-free?”
“You don’t want her to escape, Mr Hornbower,” Archie had grasped Harkness’ intent much more clearly - he at least did not have any degree of jealousy to cloud his judgement. “We should take her prize with the minimum of damage. It could be worked - if we pierce their line as intended then she’ll be up against us.”
Horatio considered his first lieutenant, considered his visitor - the look he gave him was much colder - considered his charts, then nodded. “So be it. Striad to be taken with the minimum of damage. Mr Kennedy, if you could pass the word to the crew that these are my orders; they will no doubt come to some strange conclusion about my motives but that cannot be helped.”
Archie saluted, smiled at Jack and left to fulfil his orders.
“And so you’re here? We meet again.”
“Can’t keep me away, Horatio. I love this time and any chance I get to come back and renew acquaintance with old friends…only be assured in the case of Mr Kennedy it really is just meeting up with old friends.” Harkness grinned, and Hornblower at last felt some of the tension ease. He’d been worked up as he always was in anticipation of going into action, but the arrival of old teeth and britches had caused him a great deal of added stress, related - as usual - to the concern that the man would be trying to get inside Archie’s cot.
“Fancy being up on the deck then? We’ll need to rake her masts and then try to board her. The last thing we want is a protracted fire fight if you say this man is to be kept alive. One loose shot below decks and…” Horatio shrugged. “I cannot guarantee the safety of this ancestor of note but I will do my level best. And you can be at my side for the boarding party if you can promise me that you won’t use any of those outlandish weapons you normally carry. Or have my ear off with a sword.”
Jack raised his hand as if he were taking an oath. “I solemnly swear not to touch a hair on your body, Horatio.” He bowed and left the cabin.
Hornblower spent the next two minutes wondering whether there had been a hidden meaning in the phrase employed, until he realised it was time to go and address his officers and men for a final time. Bloody Jack, he mused to himself, he always was a distraction.
The action began, leisurely enough for the men at the guns who had been both watching the agonisingly slow (or so it seemed to them) approach to the French line and trying to gauge exactly which masts they should be aiming for. For Harkness, the wait had been absolutely agonising; he had read - or at least Ianto had told him - about the slow approach that Nelson and Collingwood’s lines of battle had made at Trafalgar but he had not been able to conceive how agonising that would feel until he experienced it. As he did now. By the time it came to prepare for hand to hand combat on the deck of the Striad he was like a little boy on Christmas Eve eager to be at his presents.
He leaped over the rail, in Hornblower’s footsteps, brandishing his sword like a madman and having at any French sailor who got in his way. He took a good look at their faces before he let them taste the steel, however - he knew whom he had to protect and there was no point in manufacturing this whole scenario and then screwing it up. The engagement was short and furious, the French colours soon being hauled down and Hornblower taking the chance - like Nelson before him - of passing over to a little French corvette which had somehow got herself entangled in the line of battle and was lying alongside Striad with a toppled mast preventing her movement.
This second action was more prolonged, partly because of the necessity of leaving some of the boarding party to keep the Striad’s men under control and keep some sort of order. And for years to come the men of both Priam and the corvette Ouiseau swore that the strange Englishman who yelled in the odd accent and swung a sword around like a madman had been run through time and again, only to rise and fight once more. Although, naturally, no-one believed them.
When they finally took their second prize and had opportunity to return to their own frigate and find the day was already won, Kennedy (his face rather bloodied where a splinter had nicked his hand and he’d used it to wipe his brow) and Harkness had been dispatched to find the man they needed to protect. He was brought back to Hornblower’s cabin, looking rather puzzled but quite at ease. Held captive by the French he had been trusted enough to be allowed to help the surgeon and was still spattered with gore.
“Captain Hornblower,” Jack bowed and swept this hand theatrically, “may I present Mr Churchill?”
***
They had descended the ladder - having decided that if Jack was going to use his magic wristband again it needed to be where no-one could see him - when Kennedy grinned suddenly. “Complete non-sequiteur, Jack, but thinking back to Boston when you and Horatio cooled your mutual antagonism. How did you do it? I always wondered and he won’t tell me.”
“I told him that after you had refused at least fifteen times to come onto my couch that I’d given it all up as a bad job.”
“You didn’t tell him about instance number sixteen?”
“When I got drunk and you put me to bed? I wouldn’t dare.” Harkness had sat down on a wooden case and Archie followed suit. It was mad, totally incongruous, at the end of a naval battle to be sitting in the hold, swapping tales with a man whose last port of call had been two hundred years in the future.
“I thought you could hold your drink, Jack, but that was an impressive display by anyone’s standards.”
“I could, I can. But Ianto had gotten hold of some really weird stuff - confiscated it from a spaceship that crash landed in the Bay or something. It had absolutely no effect on him - or on you when he slipped it into your beer, I remember - but it made me feel as if I could do a somersault over the moon.”
“I seem to recall that you tried doing a somersault over me.” Or vice versa. You were very athletic.”
“I had to be - you’re all muscle, you know. And scruples - I’ve never known someone cling to them so tightly.”
“And I’ve never been grappled quite so hard before, not by a friend anyway; thought I was going to have to deck you. Luckily you passed out before you landed more than a kiss on me.” Archie grinned. “What Horatio would have done if he’d seen us doesn’t even bear thinking about. Me with my shirt hanging out of my pants and you - you couldn’t get into bed unaided but you had your clothes off in a flash. I wondered whether you’d used a time device to speed everything up.”
“Could have done with an ‘incoming Hornblower’ alarm - you know - rival at two hundred yards and approaching. That might have saved me a few hard stares at the least. And allowed a kiss or two more than I ever got around to stealing.”
“And would you need to use it now?” Kennedy grinned, blue eyes dancing in a way that drove men of a certain persuasion totally mad.
“Oh, I’d have it turned on all the time I’m around you. Especially down here in this place - nice and quiet and dark. What would lover boy say if he caught us?”
“Not so much what he’d say as what he’d do, Jack. You’d be up that yardarm before you could say Ianto Jones. He’d tell everyone you were one of Boney’s spies and that would be it. Irrespective of whether you were actually up to anything. He still has his suspicions about your motives. ”
“Fat lot of use it would do him. Can’t die, remember?”
“Oh he’s clever, Jack. He’d have you up that yardarm every time you revive - a sort of repeating show. Probably as soon as the middies make noon, up goes Jack.”
“He’s a hard taskmaster.” Harkness grinned. “And he’s bloody lucky with you. I have a friend who once said that the only man I’d ever be happy with would be myself. Nearly managed it once, as well. But you’d be a close second.” He reached out a hand for Archie to shake. “Got to be going soon.”
“I know. Ants in your pants as my Mama would say in her coarser moments.” Kennedy shook the hand that was proffered then drew Jack towards him. “I don’t think that one kiss for old time’s sake will make much difference. And if Horatio hoves into sight we can say you were whispering confidential information to me.”
“Into your mouth? He might just fall for it…”
Regeneration universe
Characters: Archie, Horatio, Jack.
Rating: PG
Based on a variety of ideas from people including jesstercat
Note: These folk belong to other people.
“What the hell are you doing here?” The thunder of a distant gun echoed clearly below Priam’s decks, sounding much more plainly in Kennedy’s ears down below than it had up in the open air.
The unexpected guest groaned, strained his neck until it clicked, grinned and then shook his wrist. “The Doctor has a habit of fixing this, on and off. Happens to be an on time at the moment. So I’m here.”
“So I see - and do I have to ask why? We’re in the line of battle, Jack - approaching the enemy fleet. Horatio will have enough on his mind without having to explain away your presence to the crew.” He considered the visitor. “At least you got togged up properly.”
Harkness grinned again. “I borrowed this from the wardrobe of that film that Horatio really likes - not the one about him, the one about the proper sea battle.”
“It looks like Tom Pulling’s rig. The one in the DVD, not the real one; however did you cram your tummy into that?”
“I got Ianto to let it out a touch. And I exercised. And I left off the sticky toffee pudding. Anyway, I’m here and I have news to impart, pretty important stuff.”
Archie groaned. “Has one of your villains from the future gone wandering off again? Have we not enough to cope with, squaring up against Napoleon?”
“There are some people who make Old Bonesapart look like your Aunt Maud. And don’t ask how I knew you had one. I have to talk to Horatio - he can say that I’m a technical adviser or something.”
“You need to do your homework, Jack. You might have advisers or spin doctors or whatever Ianto used to call them, back in the twenty first century - send down to snoop from Whitehall- but Horatio Hornblower would not brook one on his ship and he’d not pretend you were one.” Kennedy put his head to one side like a bird, thinking intensely for a moment. “You’ll have to be an envoy from Admiral Pellew - we had a party of captains come aboard last night and it would be easy enough to say that you’d arrived with them. The officers will believe anything Horatio tells them and the crew will think that you’re a spy in King George’s service and keep out of your way. Come on, let’s go and find my captain.”
“Aw, and I always hoped you’d call me that one day.”
“In your dreams, Jack.”
***
Horatio Hornblower eyed the visitor to his cabin with a degree of suspicion; he and Jack may have reached a truce and be almost on friendly terms but he still didn’t really trust the man as far as he could throw him. Especially with the news he’d just delivered. “Mr Harkness, are you seriously suggesting that we make a point of not attacking the fourth ship in the French line?”
Jack nodded. “The Striad; yes. As I said, she’s carrying someone whose life is worth a damn sight more to the future of this world than the outcome of this particular engagement.”
Horatio rolled his eyes. “Another one of these enigmatic occurrences of space and time?”
If Jack noticed the irony in the captain’s voice he did not show it. “You’ve got it. That man needs to live to sire a child and set up a dynasty or else the whole world goes to pot. And there’ll be no Cardiff for you to go dancing in so what happens to your past and future who knows?” He grinned. “The guy is likely down below or whatever you call it, so as long as you don’t sink the bloody thing, you should be OK.”
“And what about the rest of the fleet? We likely engage the French in no more than an hour - how can I think of some convincing strategy to tell them about why we should let that ship escape scot-free?”
“You don’t want her to escape, Mr Hornbower,” Archie had grasped Harkness’ intent much more clearly - he at least did not have any degree of jealousy to cloud his judgement. “We should take her prize with the minimum of damage. It could be worked - if we pierce their line as intended then she’ll be up against us.”
Horatio considered his first lieutenant, considered his visitor - the look he gave him was much colder - considered his charts, then nodded. “So be it. Striad to be taken with the minimum of damage. Mr Kennedy, if you could pass the word to the crew that these are my orders; they will no doubt come to some strange conclusion about my motives but that cannot be helped.”
Archie saluted, smiled at Jack and left to fulfil his orders.
“And so you’re here? We meet again.”
“Can’t keep me away, Horatio. I love this time and any chance I get to come back and renew acquaintance with old friends…only be assured in the case of Mr Kennedy it really is just meeting up with old friends.” Harkness grinned, and Hornblower at last felt some of the tension ease. He’d been worked up as he always was in anticipation of going into action, but the arrival of old teeth and britches had caused him a great deal of added stress, related - as usual - to the concern that the man would be trying to get inside Archie’s cot.
“Fancy being up on the deck then? We’ll need to rake her masts and then try to board her. The last thing we want is a protracted fire fight if you say this man is to be kept alive. One loose shot below decks and…” Horatio shrugged. “I cannot guarantee the safety of this ancestor of note but I will do my level best. And you can be at my side for the boarding party if you can promise me that you won’t use any of those outlandish weapons you normally carry. Or have my ear off with a sword.”
Jack raised his hand as if he were taking an oath. “I solemnly swear not to touch a hair on your body, Horatio.” He bowed and left the cabin.
Hornblower spent the next two minutes wondering whether there had been a hidden meaning in the phrase employed, until he realised it was time to go and address his officers and men for a final time. Bloody Jack, he mused to himself, he always was a distraction.
The action began, leisurely enough for the men at the guns who had been both watching the agonisingly slow (or so it seemed to them) approach to the French line and trying to gauge exactly which masts they should be aiming for. For Harkness, the wait had been absolutely agonising; he had read - or at least Ianto had told him - about the slow approach that Nelson and Collingwood’s lines of battle had made at Trafalgar but he had not been able to conceive how agonising that would feel until he experienced it. As he did now. By the time it came to prepare for hand to hand combat on the deck of the Striad he was like a little boy on Christmas Eve eager to be at his presents.
He leaped over the rail, in Hornblower’s footsteps, brandishing his sword like a madman and having at any French sailor who got in his way. He took a good look at their faces before he let them taste the steel, however - he knew whom he had to protect and there was no point in manufacturing this whole scenario and then screwing it up. The engagement was short and furious, the French colours soon being hauled down and Hornblower taking the chance - like Nelson before him - of passing over to a little French corvette which had somehow got herself entangled in the line of battle and was lying alongside Striad with a toppled mast preventing her movement.
This second action was more prolonged, partly because of the necessity of leaving some of the boarding party to keep the Striad’s men under control and keep some sort of order. And for years to come the men of both Priam and the corvette Ouiseau swore that the strange Englishman who yelled in the odd accent and swung a sword around like a madman had been run through time and again, only to rise and fight once more. Although, naturally, no-one believed them.
When they finally took their second prize and had opportunity to return to their own frigate and find the day was already won, Kennedy (his face rather bloodied where a splinter had nicked his hand and he’d used it to wipe his brow) and Harkness had been dispatched to find the man they needed to protect. He was brought back to Hornblower’s cabin, looking rather puzzled but quite at ease. Held captive by the French he had been trusted enough to be allowed to help the surgeon and was still spattered with gore.
“Captain Hornblower,” Jack bowed and swept this hand theatrically, “may I present Mr Churchill?”
***
They had descended the ladder - having decided that if Jack was going to use his magic wristband again it needed to be where no-one could see him - when Kennedy grinned suddenly. “Complete non-sequiteur, Jack, but thinking back to Boston when you and Horatio cooled your mutual antagonism. How did you do it? I always wondered and he won’t tell me.”
“I told him that after you had refused at least fifteen times to come onto my couch that I’d given it all up as a bad job.”
“You didn’t tell him about instance number sixteen?”
“When I got drunk and you put me to bed? I wouldn’t dare.” Harkness had sat down on a wooden case and Archie followed suit. It was mad, totally incongruous, at the end of a naval battle to be sitting in the hold, swapping tales with a man whose last port of call had been two hundred years in the future.
“I thought you could hold your drink, Jack, but that was an impressive display by anyone’s standards.”
“I could, I can. But Ianto had gotten hold of some really weird stuff - confiscated it from a spaceship that crash landed in the Bay or something. It had absolutely no effect on him - or on you when he slipped it into your beer, I remember - but it made me feel as if I could do a somersault over the moon.”
“I seem to recall that you tried doing a somersault over me.” Or vice versa. You were very athletic.”
“I had to be - you’re all muscle, you know. And scruples - I’ve never known someone cling to them so tightly.”
“And I’ve never been grappled quite so hard before, not by a friend anyway; thought I was going to have to deck you. Luckily you passed out before you landed more than a kiss on me.” Archie grinned. “What Horatio would have done if he’d seen us doesn’t even bear thinking about. Me with my shirt hanging out of my pants and you - you couldn’t get into bed unaided but you had your clothes off in a flash. I wondered whether you’d used a time device to speed everything up.”
“Could have done with an ‘incoming Hornblower’ alarm - you know - rival at two hundred yards and approaching. That might have saved me a few hard stares at the least. And allowed a kiss or two more than I ever got around to stealing.”
“And would you need to use it now?” Kennedy grinned, blue eyes dancing in a way that drove men of a certain persuasion totally mad.
“Oh, I’d have it turned on all the time I’m around you. Especially down here in this place - nice and quiet and dark. What would lover boy say if he caught us?”
“Not so much what he’d say as what he’d do, Jack. You’d be up that yardarm before you could say Ianto Jones. He’d tell everyone you were one of Boney’s spies and that would be it. Irrespective of whether you were actually up to anything. He still has his suspicions about your motives. ”
“Fat lot of use it would do him. Can’t die, remember?”
“Oh he’s clever, Jack. He’d have you up that yardarm every time you revive - a sort of repeating show. Probably as soon as the middies make noon, up goes Jack.”
“He’s a hard taskmaster.” Harkness grinned. “And he’s bloody lucky with you. I have a friend who once said that the only man I’d ever be happy with would be myself. Nearly managed it once, as well. But you’d be a close second.” He reached out a hand for Archie to shake. “Got to be going soon.”
“I know. Ants in your pants as my Mama would say in her coarser moments.” Kennedy shook the hand that was proffered then drew Jack towards him. “I don’t think that one kiss for old time’s sake will make much difference. And if Horatio hoves into sight we can say you were whispering confidential information to me.”
“Into your mouth? He might just fall for it…”