for quitehomoerotic: Welcome to Pearl Harbor
Follows this.The warm air of the Pacific hit the Doctor as he pulled open the door to the TARDIS. A beach, as promised. It was about time he managed that. He'd always been so preoccupied with this disaster or that disaster, he'd often forgotten the little things in life, like watching the sun set over an ocean
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"We could get cocktails!" Jack suggested with a grin before frowning, "But I don't suppose you're much of a cocktails sort of guy, are you? Mind you wouldn't have said you were a nightlife sort of guy either."
He tapped him on the arm and nodded away from the beach, "Come on, you can buy me a drink."
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"It's strange, me thinking that," he said. "Because with the alterations on the timeline, I shouldn't have any emotions or recollection of you at all. But I feel---"
He felt like he should know him. It felt like when he first met River Song, or when Sally Sparrow handed him the folder of papers. Like time knew they needed to meet. Jack was the same way, if not more so.
"Anyway. I do love a good pina colada. Probably about time I had one, too."
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He knew that wasn't the reason at all, but part of his mind liked to think it was.
"Hmm you love a good Pan Galactic Gargleblaster too, I seem to recall," he smirked over at him. He didn't remember where or when, but there was an odd faded memory of sitting in a booth drinking them with him. "But I doubt they sell those in 1970s Maui."
They reached the crest of the beach, and ahead lay a road with a fence along the one side.
"Mmm, touristy," he said with an air of sarcasm. "Guess the bars are the other way."
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"That's not something I expected on Maui." He nodded up to the barbed wire on the top of the fences. It reminded him of something he'd see in a prison or an encampment of some sort.
"I think you're right," he said. "Let's try..." He turned around to point down the other end of the road, just in time to see a few camouflage-clad men running towards them across the sand. Armed, it appeared.
"Ah." Without hesitation, he put his hands up in surrender.
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"Some sort of date this is," he mumbled to the Doctor before shooting a wide grin to the men.
But then he looked at them, looked at them properly. If there was one thing Jack knew about, it was military, and the issue uniforms that the men in front of them were wearing were most definitely not from the 1970's, and nor were the guns.
He glanced his eyes sideways to the Doctor. "... What year did you say this was?" he mumbled under his breath.
The gun toting man in front of the other gun toting men shouted. "What are you doing here? This area is out of bounds. Come with us."
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The men directed them away from the gate, and the Doctor kept his eyes on the new things that appeared around them. Planes and ships, decorated with paint and sunbathing military men, though neither looked like they'd seen any recent battle. They all looked so...relaxed. What sort of a place was this?
"Sorry," the Doctor said, turning around to talk to the man pointing a gun at his back. He walked backwards, keeping in step with the rest of the men. "Sorry, I think I was a bit turned around at the beach. We were looking for the Maui resort?"
"Very funny," the man said, and he actually laughed, like the whole thing was some sort of a very big joke.
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"Oh yeah? Then what's your idea of a date?" he asked absently, continuing to talk as he absorbed the information.
He walked, hands still in the air, taking note of the people on the beach.
"And if this is 1973, he said to the Doctor, why are there peoplewearing uniforms for the US Navy Shore control? Uniforms that, by the way, stopped being issued in 1945. And versions of the M1911 gun that are way out of date for the 40s."
He paused and turned his head to the Doctor, "Sorry, I know my stuff."
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Something else had clicked in the Doctor's mind. The shape of that beach.
The Doctor leaned his head over to Jack.
"Did you say stopped being issued in 1945?" He said. "Because, I know my stuff when it comes to Earth geography, and I've been considering the shape of the coastline we just walked."
It could only be this island in the 1940's, couldn't it? "We're not on Maui. We're on O'ahu."
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"Oh no," Jack said, feeling his heart sink. He looked over at the Doctor with heavy eyes. "It doesn't feel much like April either," he suggested, "more like December?"
With a deep breath, Jack took a step forward towards the man leading the way.
"Gentlemen!" he said, switching his language fluidly to English, the accent in his voice seeming a little sharper. "Just a misunderstanding! I'm Captain Jack Harkness, RAF 133 squadron. And this here is Doctor..." he looked at him, looked for a name and picked the first that hit him, "Efron. We're over here on a matter of classified security."
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Still, he could do worse with an alias like Zac, he supposed. Jack's voice had changed, his American accent thicker when he spoke in English. It was odd, but the Doctor felt almost more familiar with this voice, like the 51st century language was a new development.
"You might want to take us to your leaders," the Doctor suggested. "Well, at least, that's what I'd do. Wouldn't you, Captain Harkness?"
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It rang in his head somewhere that this had happened before. It seemed they'd done this before, somewhere. On a rooftop. He wasn't sure.
"You know what, Doctor Efron, that's exactly what I'd do!" Jack said with a grin, stepping back and falling into pace with the Doctor. "And I'm sure fine upstanding military men like you would always follow procedure!"
Two of the men looked between each other and Jack could read the newly placed uncertainty in his eyes. He looked at the Doctor and shot him a wink.
"This way," one of the men said, "we'll take you to the Admiral."
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As they were led towards the buildings, the Doctor watched the coastline. Nurses flirting with military men, people living their lives the best they know how. Over two thousand lost their lives here. A thousand more were injured. And it would all be happening here, soon.
"What's the date?" the Doctor asked the man behind them.
"Shut up."
"Cause, you know, I'm British, we get confused."
"December 6th," the other officer said.
Of course.
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"And," he asked the officers, "seems like my watch has ticked its last tock. Don't have the time do you?"
The officer shot him an unimpressed look before straightening his face a little as his eyes fell on the stripes on Jack's shoulders.
"It's nine thirty, Captain."
Nine thirty. That gave them about eight and a half hours before it would all start. No time at all.
He turned his head in towards the Doctor and whispered, "We should get out of here."
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At least Jack was trying to be helpful, the Doctor reminded himself. It was just becoming far too frequent that he found himself in fixed times. This place had to be destroyed. All those lives had to be lost. It happened, it changed the course of World War II. The sleeping giant was awoken.
But a nagging place in the back of his mind said that he could fix it. He could save the people here, he could save all of them. The results of the War would be the same, wouldn't they? Time would bend, wouldn't it?
"You'll be held in here until the Admiral can see you." One of the men held open the barred doors of a cell. Also, something he was seeing far to frequently as of late.
"Sleeping, is he? You should really wake him up."
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It was hard to know that the best thing to do was leave, but deep down he did know that, he knew it was right, and the back of his mind scratched away telling him he was supposed to be reminding the Doctor of that fact too. It felt like it was his job.
Jack had lived through wars, maybe the Doctor had too, he didn't know. But Jack had lived through this war. He'd fought in it. Fought in the aftermath that the attack that would take place here would cause. It felt empty to want to walk away from that. To not do his job.
"Really, gentlemen, I don't think this is necessary!" he said as the cell door was shut on them.
"The Admiral will be with you when he's free," the man said, looking between the both of them before turning a heavy lock in the door and padding away down the corridor.
"Great. Just great."
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He looked up at the ceiling and sighed. "I only hope the Marquis can find us in the next few hours. Because I don't want to be trapped here when Operation Z starts."
Not because he genuinely believed he would be hurt, not with the TARDIS sitting safely on the beach, but because he didn't think he could stop himself from preventing disaster.
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