FIC: House of Cards [Jack/Bim - Torchwood/The Charioteer crossover; PG-13]
Title: House of Cards
Pairing: Jack/Bim; Ralph Lanyon/Laurie Odell implied; and a surprise character cameo.
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 1,502
Disclaimer: All familiar characters and situations (and blatantly borrowed phrases) are copyright by Russell T. Davies, the BBC and the wonderful Mary Renault. No infringement meant and no money made.
Prompt: #36 - The Charioteer (Mary Renault): Captain Jack meets Bim during the Battle of Britain, and goes to Sandy's party...
Notes: Written for the Crossover Challenge at tw_exchange and beta'd by the patient celticblade. Title is taken from a direct quote in Chapter 6 about Bim. Set in October 1940 in the South of England (the town of Bridstow), which would mean Jack hasn’t met the Doctor yet and I’m taking timeline liberties as Jack didn’t become Jack until January 22nd of the next year. Or so. Other sources have different dates, so can’t fault me for playing with the dates myself. Also, I know nothing first-hand about amphetamines (Benzedrine in inhalers was popular), just what I researched online.
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When Jack's "date" passes out from sheer exhaustion even as he's laying on the charm, Jack resolves to never again pick up someone strung out on stimulants. But for the moment it'd have to do; he hadn't seen a single officer who was in a better shape while searching for someone to try his newfound identity on. There was also something to be said for the sly glances the young flight lieutenant had been passing him and Jack could never pass up a handsome face.
Bim Taylor - as the flight lieutenant had introduced himself when Jack had sidled up - accepted the offer of a drink, played right into Jack's impeccable manner, and then had invited Jack out to a party he was just going to love. Only once the drink's in him, Bim's sprawled on the bar. Out like a light. He does know how to pick them, Jack thinks idly, hauling the officer upright by the shoulders and patting him on the cheek 'till he comes round.
Bim apologises expansively, produces an inhaler out of his pocket, and once that's out of the way, he's back to chattering animatedly in a remarkably short time. Jack's never been called 'dear' and 'darling' and 'sweetheart' quite so many times before. It's a little amusing and plenty fascinating. And Bim's getting bolder, touching him on the arm confidentially, leaning in to wink conspiratorially, squeezing his knee, all but sliding onto Jack's lap. If it wasn't too public a place, Jack really wouldn't have qualms about such a development, but for now he just sits back and lets dear old Bim do all the work.
When he's had enough, feels ready for a bigger audience, Jack interjects into a ramble about what a shambles the RAF is becoming under strain, "What was that about a party?"
Bim looks pleased with himself and slides away from the bar. "Oh yes, you're just going to love it, my dear Jack." Jack follows, dwarfing Bim in height, but not in carriage - Bim walks with a resolute assurance that does not fully agree with his flighty voice and manner.
"Oh, I'm sure I will," Jack agrees, mostly to himself, giving Bim another appreciative once over. This time from the back. Very nice.
The party turns out to be a birthday party well on its way in someone's flat. That's not to say that it's not engaging in its own way. The moment they step through the door there's some commotion mostly due to Bim having no finesse or considerations - whether naturally or chemically induced Jack's not sure - but there's something to be said for bluntness and catty taunting.
Looking on in cautious amusement, Jack gets a patchy explanation and a running commentary from a very helpful army officer named Algy who seems to have taken a shine to him.
"You see, that one, the blond in the R.N.V.R. uniform, he's Ralph Lanyon and he went to school with Laurie Odell - he's the one with the bum leg - and they'd parted rather abruptly. Hadn't laid eyes on each other again 'till the day Lanyon picked up a half-dead Odell during one of his Channel crossings at the Battle of Dunkirk. Nasty business, lost a few fingers and his ship, thought he'd lost Odell to a great big wound, too, Odell none the wiser who it was that saved him. But here we are and there's Bim aggravating the whole situation," Algy shrugs helplessly, gesturing at the little gathering.
Jack pats him on the shoulder in thanks. He thinks it all sounds like a good soap opera, except that form of entertainment hasn't officially caught on yet. So Jack studies it all with intense curiosity, trying to work out the dynamics of this bizarre triangle for himself. And it doesn't take long to see that Bim is besotted with that Lanyon bloke (and Jack can certainly see why), except, of course, Lanyon can't tear himself away from Odell (Jack can also see why) who looks ready to claw poor Bim's eyes out for having strayed.
If this was a more sensible time, a few dozen centuries out, things could be settled in bed and no hard feelings. But it's not and the tension is making Jack's eyes water. Definitely not the fun kind of party, which is his cue to disappear, hopefully with Bim on his arm and out of Odell's reach. So, though it may be none of his business, Jack steps in anyway, puts a hand on Bim's shoulder and flashes a wide grin even as Odell bristles and Lanyon tries to diffuse the situation quietly. One of their hosts, Sandy, if Jack recalls correctly, does so with a few teasing words. There's a bit of guilty shuffling and the on-lookers drift away.
With the tension broken, everyone's attention swivels to Jack.
"And who's this you brought us, Bim?" Sandy sidles up to them coyly.
Before Bim can do the honours, Jack offers his hand and another blinding smile, "Captain Jack Harkness."
"Not only a Captain but also an American," Sandy sounds duly impressed, "wherever did you find him?"
Obligingly, Jack lets himself be touched and admired, but keeps his attention focused on the subdued pair to his right. Bim cozies up to him possessively, drawing Jack's eyes back to him with a tight arm around his waist. And if that was the final straw, Lanyon gently takes him by the arm and pries him away from Jack. "It's time you went home, Bim. To bed; to sleep it off," Lanyon glares pointedly at Jack who follows a step behind.
"Oh, don't spoil my fun, Ralph. Go back to your lover boy," Bim tries to extricate himself from Lanyon's helping arm and turns to wink at Jack. "Jack here is going to be an absolute dear and help me get to bed. Won't you, Jack?"
Taking up his other side, Jack grasps him by the arm. "Of course," he says, making it sound charming and promising at one turn.
Still patient and mild, Lanyon continues as if Jack hadn’t spoken, "You're being silly, my dear, it's the benzedrine talking and you need a good rest."
Jack admires the efficient way with which Lanyon maneuvers the highly uncooperative Bim into the cramped backseat of a battered sports car where he promptly stretches out with the aim to tantalize, eyes trained on Jack, gauging his reaction. It just looks like a hasty attempt to arouse jealousy in the frankly uninterested Lanyon. Jack relaxes his face into an indulgent look and slips in shotgun, now far more interested in this seemingly placid, weathered man. Pity, Jack thinks, that he must be so hopelessly attached, even if he doesn’t know it yet himself.
As far as Jack can tell, Ralph Lanyon is ignoring him politely. Jack notes the padded look of his gloved left hand - Algy had not been making an off-hand comment about losing fingers after all - and the stiff, reined in posture. Lanyon may be polite, but he's not entirely comfortable, Jack can tell that much, disapproval cleanly showing in the thin line of his lips. He does not approve of Bim having brought Jack to the party, having picked him up in the first place, and certainly not the compulsive way he's squeezing at Jack's shoulder through the gap in the seats, giggling all the while.
The ride is short and Lanyon is pulling Bim out the backseat, hauling on his arms and just managing to get him on his feet, steadfastly ignoring Jack's presence and helping hand until they're at Bim's door.
"Make sure he gets some rest. Less chance of him getting shot out of the sky, if he's rested," Lanyon pronounces grimly, gives Jack a stern look and leaves before he sees his orders carried out.
With a shrug, Jack takes his charge inside and Bim is all too happy to finally have a bed and Jack all to himself.
There's no finesse in the desperate fumbling of shaky fingers, Bim's whole body buzzing with jittery, feverish energy as he tries to get them undressed. Jack can't believe he didn't notice just how high-strung Bim's become since the bar, eyes squinting blearily and teeth grinding futilely. It must be taking Bim everything to keep from another crash and he's anchoring himself on Jack so that he doesn't collapse like a house of cards.
Jack tries soothing the jitters with warm hands and his warm body and it helps a bit. He wonders if perhaps he shouldn't take advantage of a man made desperate by drugs, but Bim's already cozy, expectant, ready on his lap, sloppily trying to kiss him, and it would be a terrible thing to disappoint. Particularly as he knows that once you're up, you're up, and no amount of rest is going to save Bim from certain death. His name had been on the list of the deceased from which Jack had picked his new alias and Jack knows not to argue with history.
End
I fervently hope I didn't put anyone off reading The Charioteer because it is so much more amazing than my fic (which you can have at, in all seriousness).
Pairing: Jack/Bim; Ralph Lanyon/Laurie Odell implied; and a surprise character cameo.
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 1,502
Disclaimer: All familiar characters and situations (and blatantly borrowed phrases) are copyright by Russell T. Davies, the BBC and the wonderful Mary Renault. No infringement meant and no money made.
Prompt: #36 - The Charioteer (Mary Renault): Captain Jack meets Bim during the Battle of Britain, and goes to Sandy's party...
Notes: Written for the Crossover Challenge at tw_exchange and beta'd by the patient celticblade. Title is taken from a direct quote in Chapter 6 about Bim. Set in October 1940 in the South of England (the town of Bridstow), which would mean Jack hasn’t met the Doctor yet and I’m taking timeline liberties as Jack didn’t become Jack until January 22nd of the next year. Or so. Other sources have different dates, so can’t fault me for playing with the dates myself. Also, I know nothing first-hand about amphetamines (Benzedrine in inhalers was popular), just what I researched online.
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When Jack's "date" passes out from sheer exhaustion even as he's laying on the charm, Jack resolves to never again pick up someone strung out on stimulants. But for the moment it'd have to do; he hadn't seen a single officer who was in a better shape while searching for someone to try his newfound identity on. There was also something to be said for the sly glances the young flight lieutenant had been passing him and Jack could never pass up a handsome face.
Bim Taylor - as the flight lieutenant had introduced himself when Jack had sidled up - accepted the offer of a drink, played right into Jack's impeccable manner, and then had invited Jack out to a party he was just going to love. Only once the drink's in him, Bim's sprawled on the bar. Out like a light. He does know how to pick them, Jack thinks idly, hauling the officer upright by the shoulders and patting him on the cheek 'till he comes round.
Bim apologises expansively, produces an inhaler out of his pocket, and once that's out of the way, he's back to chattering animatedly in a remarkably short time. Jack's never been called 'dear' and 'darling' and 'sweetheart' quite so many times before. It's a little amusing and plenty fascinating. And Bim's getting bolder, touching him on the arm confidentially, leaning in to wink conspiratorially, squeezing his knee, all but sliding onto Jack's lap. If it wasn't too public a place, Jack really wouldn't have qualms about such a development, but for now he just sits back and lets dear old Bim do all the work.
When he's had enough, feels ready for a bigger audience, Jack interjects into a ramble about what a shambles the RAF is becoming under strain, "What was that about a party?"
Bim looks pleased with himself and slides away from the bar. "Oh yes, you're just going to love it, my dear Jack." Jack follows, dwarfing Bim in height, but not in carriage - Bim walks with a resolute assurance that does not fully agree with his flighty voice and manner.
"Oh, I'm sure I will," Jack agrees, mostly to himself, giving Bim another appreciative once over. This time from the back. Very nice.
The party turns out to be a birthday party well on its way in someone's flat. That's not to say that it's not engaging in its own way. The moment they step through the door there's some commotion mostly due to Bim having no finesse or considerations - whether naturally or chemically induced Jack's not sure - but there's something to be said for bluntness and catty taunting.
Looking on in cautious amusement, Jack gets a patchy explanation and a running commentary from a very helpful army officer named Algy who seems to have taken a shine to him.
"You see, that one, the blond in the R.N.V.R. uniform, he's Ralph Lanyon and he went to school with Laurie Odell - he's the one with the bum leg - and they'd parted rather abruptly. Hadn't laid eyes on each other again 'till the day Lanyon picked up a half-dead Odell during one of his Channel crossings at the Battle of Dunkirk. Nasty business, lost a few fingers and his ship, thought he'd lost Odell to a great big wound, too, Odell none the wiser who it was that saved him. But here we are and there's Bim aggravating the whole situation," Algy shrugs helplessly, gesturing at the little gathering.
Jack pats him on the shoulder in thanks. He thinks it all sounds like a good soap opera, except that form of entertainment hasn't officially caught on yet. So Jack studies it all with intense curiosity, trying to work out the dynamics of this bizarre triangle for himself. And it doesn't take long to see that Bim is besotted with that Lanyon bloke (and Jack can certainly see why), except, of course, Lanyon can't tear himself away from Odell (Jack can also see why) who looks ready to claw poor Bim's eyes out for having strayed.
If this was a more sensible time, a few dozen centuries out, things could be settled in bed and no hard feelings. But it's not and the tension is making Jack's eyes water. Definitely not the fun kind of party, which is his cue to disappear, hopefully with Bim on his arm and out of Odell's reach. So, though it may be none of his business, Jack steps in anyway, puts a hand on Bim's shoulder and flashes a wide grin even as Odell bristles and Lanyon tries to diffuse the situation quietly. One of their hosts, Sandy, if Jack recalls correctly, does so with a few teasing words. There's a bit of guilty shuffling and the on-lookers drift away.
With the tension broken, everyone's attention swivels to Jack.
"And who's this you brought us, Bim?" Sandy sidles up to them coyly.
Before Bim can do the honours, Jack offers his hand and another blinding smile, "Captain Jack Harkness."
"Not only a Captain but also an American," Sandy sounds duly impressed, "wherever did you find him?"
Obligingly, Jack lets himself be touched and admired, but keeps his attention focused on the subdued pair to his right. Bim cozies up to him possessively, drawing Jack's eyes back to him with a tight arm around his waist. And if that was the final straw, Lanyon gently takes him by the arm and pries him away from Jack. "It's time you went home, Bim. To bed; to sleep it off," Lanyon glares pointedly at Jack who follows a step behind.
"Oh, don't spoil my fun, Ralph. Go back to your lover boy," Bim tries to extricate himself from Lanyon's helping arm and turns to wink at Jack. "Jack here is going to be an absolute dear and help me get to bed. Won't you, Jack?"
Taking up his other side, Jack grasps him by the arm. "Of course," he says, making it sound charming and promising at one turn.
Still patient and mild, Lanyon continues as if Jack hadn’t spoken, "You're being silly, my dear, it's the benzedrine talking and you need a good rest."
Jack admires the efficient way with which Lanyon maneuvers the highly uncooperative Bim into the cramped backseat of a battered sports car where he promptly stretches out with the aim to tantalize, eyes trained on Jack, gauging his reaction. It just looks like a hasty attempt to arouse jealousy in the frankly uninterested Lanyon. Jack relaxes his face into an indulgent look and slips in shotgun, now far more interested in this seemingly placid, weathered man. Pity, Jack thinks, that he must be so hopelessly attached, even if he doesn’t know it yet himself.
As far as Jack can tell, Ralph Lanyon is ignoring him politely. Jack notes the padded look of his gloved left hand - Algy had not been making an off-hand comment about losing fingers after all - and the stiff, reined in posture. Lanyon may be polite, but he's not entirely comfortable, Jack can tell that much, disapproval cleanly showing in the thin line of his lips. He does not approve of Bim having brought Jack to the party, having picked him up in the first place, and certainly not the compulsive way he's squeezing at Jack's shoulder through the gap in the seats, giggling all the while.
The ride is short and Lanyon is pulling Bim out the backseat, hauling on his arms and just managing to get him on his feet, steadfastly ignoring Jack's presence and helping hand until they're at Bim's door.
"Make sure he gets some rest. Less chance of him getting shot out of the sky, if he's rested," Lanyon pronounces grimly, gives Jack a stern look and leaves before he sees his orders carried out.
With a shrug, Jack takes his charge inside and Bim is all too happy to finally have a bed and Jack all to himself.
There's no finesse in the desperate fumbling of shaky fingers, Bim's whole body buzzing with jittery, feverish energy as he tries to get them undressed. Jack can't believe he didn't notice just how high-strung Bim's become since the bar, eyes squinting blearily and teeth grinding futilely. It must be taking Bim everything to keep from another crash and he's anchoring himself on Jack so that he doesn't collapse like a house of cards.
Jack tries soothing the jitters with warm hands and his warm body and it helps a bit. He wonders if perhaps he shouldn't take advantage of a man made desperate by drugs, but Bim's already cozy, expectant, ready on his lap, sloppily trying to kiss him, and it would be a terrible thing to disappoint. Particularly as he knows that once you're up, you're up, and no amount of rest is going to save Bim from certain death. His name had been on the list of the deceased from which Jack had picked his new alias and Jack knows not to argue with history.
End
I fervently hope I didn't put anyone off reading The Charioteer because it is so much more amazing than my fic (which you can have at, in all seriousness).