All you need is love [fic]
Title: All you need is love
Rating: PG - 13
Pairings: Jack/OFC, Jack/OFC, Jack/Rose (bit of Jack/Doctor), Jack/Estelle, Jack/Suzie, Jack/Toshiko, Jack/Swanson and Jack/Gwen
Summary: Loves of Captain Jack
Prompt: 85. She for
fanfic100
Word Count: 5247
Spoilers: Empty Child/Dr dances, Parting of the Ways, Torchwood series one.
A/N: Dedicated to
laligin, for support, help, general larks in real life and fandom.
She wasn’t the first person, or even the first woman he slept with, not by a long way. She was perhaps the first older woman; it had been - what seven, nine years? Quite an age gap now. Hadn’t mattered at the time, though. It was the war that had mattered - war and anything that made you feel life might actually be worth living.
Her name was Meredith (curious old Earth name) and she was one of Jack’s commanders. He can’t really remember what she looked like - hair and eyes and so forth - they spent enough time hiding in the dark that Jack had begun to forget what colour his own eyes were. One thing that sticks in his head is that she was short; only just made the height restrictions, and that was because of the heeled boots she was wearing when they measured her. They shut their eyes to that kind of thing in those days, needed the soldiers too badly. But Meredith wasn’t really a soldier. You put a gun, any kind of gun, in her hand and she was a bloody artist. She had all the precision (and calm) of a surgeon and the respect for life of a sadistic maniac. Jack had had quite the crush on her.
It was her exceptional body count that got her promotion and command over a team of four others; Jack and “that other kid” (his best and truest friend) were just out of training and even they could see that she wasn’t much of a leader. They managed to complete their missions somehow and if one of them was almost killed, well it was only almost, wasn’t it? It was only when they had to resort to new/old tactics and traditional crawling around in the mud, ignoring the fireworks from the dog fights overhead to get the jump on the enemy style of warfare that they fared any better. This kind of fighting suited them all much better and for two whole months none of them came even close to almost dying.
He remembers that strange smile she had and the way her eyes had slipped skywards when he was undressing them both - You’re pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you? Known plenty like you - naïve kids think they’ve seen it all. Nothing special. You all break the same. It had only happened the once. With him, anyway; she was a great believer in Spartan loyalty - you’ll fight harder, have greater loyalty for someone you’ve slept with, and all that. It actually worked quite well.
He remembers the last time he saw her; their mission had gone wrong - they’d gotten lazy, too content and she hadn’t dragged them out of it. Bax was gone in half an hour but that didn’t matter because they had the information, they just needed to get it back to base. She’d hidden them in an old shelter, coming apart at the seams. Taken time to calm them all down with her usual unthinking confidence. And they had been calm, until the Daleks began to attack. Rip dropped like a stone and she yelled at those stupid kids to move, didn’t they understand what was happening? She sent them on ahead with the information, while she practiced her art. Even today, after living by his pistol for a very literal lifetime he is an amateur compared to her; out of those five Daleks she managed to get them all. Except the one that mattered. That one shot the guns from her hands and then sent the life flying out of her. He remembers tripping over her body as he ran away. He never did find out what happened to it - he was too busy dodging torture at the hands of the enemy and execution at the hands of his allies.
(There was another girl, sweet looking thing called Hero. Not that Jack actually remembers what she looks like, or her name. Jack doesn’t remember her at all because maybe the technician was hung over, maybe it was the first such procedure the doctor had performed, maybe the paper pusher had had a dodgy biro, maybe someone has knocked one of the buttons or knobs - whatever the reason, instead of having two months erased they wiped two years, including Hero, the wedding ring he’d put away for safe keeping and their unnamed son. She went looking for him one and day disappeared quite mysteriously (the agency was always very good at covering up their mistakes). The boy was brought up by the friends his mother had left him with (they named him Jack) and knew little of his real parents - didn’t care to hear much about his wandering father or how much he looked like him. He lived a good life until the war (much as everyone else did) - his craft went down in flames.)
In 1941 and Jack made a new and unexpected friend. She was a pretty girl - not beautiful though and if she wasn’t a Time Agent (who should really have been re-sitting camouflage - if they’d actually passed her to be out in the field they really had gone to dogs) he might not have bothered, but he had got a job to do. She was clearly smitten with him, which made the flirting/gaining her trust part of the plan that much easier. A little too easy, as it turned out and then she couldn’t focus on the business side of things (they really were slipping if this girl made the cut), so they went off to find her partner, a Mr Spock. He heard all kinds of things about him along the way. Despite allowing Jack to sweep her off her feet she was clearly smitten with this guy.
So it was something of a surprise when Mr Spock turned out to be a man old enough to be her Dad. And in the course of an evening everything changed; they’re not marks - they’re comrades. Not U-boat captain with the big nose and flag girl the free-lancers, but the Doctor (a strange being - clearly an alien - who was apparently approaching a thousand years, yet rarely acts like it) and Rose.
Rose…she’s difficult to put into words. She’s Rose. Cat curious, big heart and lives life to the full. He loved being around her, remembering what it was like to be young (and doesn’t that say something? He was only just coming out into his late thirties) when so much of the world (worlds in their case) is new and just waiting to be discovered, questioned and prodded and have its legs pulled off.
Those days in the TARDIS, flirting with Rose and then the Doctor just to see the look on Rose’s face…they were some of the best days - a halcyon he looked back on with wistful fondness. He and the Doctor kept her out of trouble, she and Jack stop the Doctor getting too moody (and were successful, most of the time) and she and the Doctor…they saved Jack. Turned him around and had him fighting the good fight. And he loves them for that. They made a good team, the three of them. Kinda like a little family away from all their real families. Those are always just as good, sometimes even better because this family you chose to a part of. Plus more opportunities for snogging.
Which he did, by the way. He flirted and snogged and may have slept with her once (whatever they were drinking was clearly not meant for human consumption). And he loves her, but not insert commitment ceremony here, have children and a house and break the neck of anyone who makes a pass at her. Well, okay, he did that last one anyway - but only because the Doctor, for all his ferocity, seemed to have qualms about beating people. Even when it was some scumbag hitting on the girl he seemed to be rather in love with. Didn’t seem to mind Jack around her though (a trust which made Jack feel all kinds of smug, especially given how determined the Doctor had seemed to hate him at first sight), so long as Jack flirted and snogged him just the same (which makes him worry that he might owe the Doctor a hung over “did-we-actually-sleep-together, oh-bugger-you-mean-you-can’t-remember-either?” morning, complete with a “just-in-case-we-did-can’t-have-word-getting-around-that-I’m-not-a-gentlemen” breakfast in bed).
Saying goodbye to them both he got a good look at her, taking her in for the last time. She wasn’t that exotic - not really. Just an ordinary girl who’d been dodging bad guys and helping to thwart plans to take over planets like she was born to it, determined that they would do what is right and that they would not become the monster in doing so. Not long before he would have scoffed at her, called her a naïve little girl. Instead he felt proud. Proud that he had been her friend and, at times, protector. Proud that he had been trusted to look after her.
When the air burnt his throat again - that first time - he heard her, joyous in her power (I bring life) heard a handful of pitiful screams - in pain, useless anger and fear - of the Daleks. It was her making them scream - her. Rose Tyler, nineteen year old London shop girl who Jack and the Doctor had to drag to make sure she kept up with them. She had these mythical beings, the epitome of hatred and strength at their knees, reducing them to dust. She was nineteen and she -
She was running through him. Inside him, like one of them had turned into a ghost and stepped inside the other’s space. Her and the TARDIS, giving life as they took it away from so many others. Both of them were calling him home, drawing him in the right direction. But then the calls started to get fainter, Rose’s voice started to get weaker. He speed up and then stopped in alarm when he heard (felt) the Doctor screaming in his head. He ran, flying like he never had in his life before -
Just in time to see the ghost of the TARDIS disappear. The voices fell silent. Jack didn’t know how long he stood there in the empty endless corridors of dust. All he did know the heavy feeling in his chest, a tight feeing in his throat and his fingers won’t stop shaking. He knew they’d left. He knew that something had ended - and not just because he had been left. And he knew that his family, his home, were gone. And he didn’t know if he’d ever see them again.
Estelle was what the Italians call a thunderbolt. One minute you were sipping your drink, schmoozing quite happily, next minute a girl spins around, smiling like she’s having the time of her life and it’s as if all the lights, except the ones on her are turned off - no one else, nothing else existed, but her. The spell was broken (almost) when she wandered over to him, ignoring a sailor who tries to take her arm and asked “Care to dance?”
And before Jack knew it there he was, out on the dance floor, twirling her around, the envy of every other man in the hall (or at least that’s what it felt like). He would have been offended - he was used to people envying his dance partners - but found that he really didn’t care. She was entirely too beautiful in a way he didn’t quite understand. She soon roused him from his confusion with a warm, coaxing voice (she was laughing near him, not at him);
“You always let the women lead, or am I special?”
“You’re very special,” he told her “but I’ll lead if that’s what you want.”
They danced all night; didn’t stop for drinks, didn’t stop when their feet were aching, didn’t stop when the songs they hated came on, didn’t stop to keep promises of the next dance they’d made earlier- if the band hadn’t stopped and lights hadn’t switched off they might have danced forever. That was how it felt, anyway. They even danced a few steps out in the street, just for kicks. It was only when they were saying goodbye that they actually learnt each others’ names. And when Jack fell asleep and dreamed he dreamed of her. This, he thought on waking, this was the kind of love he had heard so much about all these years. He’d always scoffed at it back then, thought it frivolous and shallow. But it wasn’t - it was wonderful and he felt so dizzy - like flying and he never wanted to come back down.
He looked for her again at the dancehall the next night. And the night after. And the night after that and every night he came away without dancing (because he’d found if he couldn’t dance with her, then he didn’t want to dance at all) there was a pain in his chest that hurt all the more because he didn’t expect it. Then, the fourth night, he heard someone call his name and when he turned he found his arms full of Estelle, breathless and laughing. This night was not as kind as the first - aside from being interrupted by the German bombs (Jack was stunned for a moment when he hears how eloquently she cussed at them then nearly choked laughing and she slapped his shoulder, but it was all in good fun) and she had to go home early because her mother was furious with her at coming back so late that first night, but that was fine with Jack when she promised to come see him again at the hall.
The next two nights they talked and found out about one another and Jack was quite delighted to find that she could drink some of his colleagues under the table. He walked her home both nights, see her there safe and all, and met her mother and younger brothers (Bertwas only a year or two away from being eligible and they all worried about him being called up).
After a few more nights they didn’t go to the hall at all and instead he came around for dinner, bringing a bit of meat and what chocolate he could get his hands on because otherwise he’d feel guilty about taking their food (three kids, two parents and a grandmother was bound to stretch the coupons, never mind bloody Americans coming to tea). He won the cat over almost instantly, which he knew from experience is a good sign. Her Dad looked as though he had prepared a number of complaints and slights, but was silenced, partly by the fact that Jack didn’t slip up once and partly by her mother, impressed at his thoughtfulness (as are her brothers when they receive their share of the spoils).
And so went on the pattern of dance halls and dinners, going on and on and it felt like it could go on forever, nothing ever changing, no one ever aging; just going on and on like a waltz. If he could have died he hoped it would be like this with a bomb hitting the dancehall while the band were in full swing, or at dinner as they listened to Estelle’s father (a fire fighter) recount the day’s events as they passed the meat. Of course the war (oddly enough) managed to throw a spanner in the works and Jack was moved elsewhere and it was almost a given that he’d die (and while he knows that he’d probably get up again afterward, she didn’t). Their vicar took pity on them and they got married in a hurry. It was just Estelle’s family and some of their friends from the dance hall (and the owner, who knew them well by now and had been cajoling them to get married for a month or so), but it was a beautiful ceremony - or would be if they all weren’t crying so much.
The next day he held her hands in his and kissed her goodbye. He died at his new placement as expected and after he coming around again slipped away - he’d go down as missing in action.
He promised himself that he’d come back to her someday. When he eventually did get around to it, having to take time in a straight line, rather than skipping from place to place as he has for so much of his life, she has grown old and for a moment he was too taken aback to speak. That didn’t matter too much though, because she was in much the same state. Over the next year he heard her recount thing she and his “father” got up to. It was amazing the detail with which she remembered these things. She got married again, but he was the one, she told him. Whenever he leaves her he’s crying.
And for a year it was idyllic; he didn’t have to answer to her for leaving her or not aging - they got on very well, except when it came to the fairies. And then the cruel things went and killed her out of childish spite. Then he was the one left crying in the doorway. Except he knew that there won’t be a girl that turns up on the doorstep one day when he’s old and grey that looks the spit of Estelle when she was young.
He’s pretty damn proud of Suzie to begin with; she’s brilliant, a real find on Jack’s part (Torchwood One kept trying to find excuses to steal her - a sure-fire sign of someone’s capabilities).He found her in a grey government building bored as hell. Persuading her to transfer was pretty easy; she had apparently already heard of Torchwood and though she had only a vague idea of what did (apparently knew nothing about the alien bit) jumped at the chance to be a part of it.
In her innocence he almost fell for Suzie. She was very no nonsense, which was refreshing after all those people that Torchwood One had sent who were all so desperate to do great grand things and change the world, so fixed on that one goal that the little things tripped them up. She was enthusiastic without being too idealistic (he always hated breaking those people in), made him feel that what they were doing was for the good of the people again. Like it was maybe more than something he could do while he waited for the Doctor to turn up again. It was nice.
But then, when you set someone up on a pedestal, even if it’s scant inches off the ground, they’re bound to fall off it. It’s only a matter of time. And Suzie seemed to do it over and over again. He didn’t think that the job might be getting too much for her, might be taking over her. She seemed to strong for that, too tough to let some fancy philosophical notion about the limits of space stop her sleeping. Because that’s the thing with Jack; he doesn’t always see people for what they are - sometimes he focuses more on what they could be.
He was a little disappointed when he found out about her and Owen, but not too much. After all, nice as she was she could be really obsessive and anal about things, and while she and Toshiko shared a no-nonsense sensibility Tosh could (and would) let her hair down every now and again. If Owen was Suzie’s way of doing that, then good for her. She was always working late these days. If he thought about it a little more he might realise that it was about the time they found the glove, but he didn’t; he and Tosh were too busy heckling Owen when it was his turn in pool.
But he does (did?) love her in an odd almost familial way. It hurt to see things turn out the way they did. Probably not as much as it hurt Suzie, but then again she was dead (repeatedly) and that doesn’t hurt as bad or as long anyone makes out - but then none of them have ever been dead and come back, so what do they know? He liked to think that she might have loved him that way too (their relationship does seem similar to the one with her father, what with all the killing). She always tried so hard, felt so much. She was a good girl gone bad in the truest sense. Jack should know, God knows, he’s seen enough of them.
Once that glove was destroyed her problems were over. His, it turned out, were only just beginning.
In 2006 he received (read; kidnapped under cover of darkness) a new member of staff from Torchwood One (they themselves stole her from UNIT only eight months before). He decided when he picked her up from the station and drove her to her new address he rather liked Toshiko Sato and wouldn’t tell her about her predecessor’s nervous breakdown. They got stuck in a traffic jam on the way there and as they talked he decided he liked her even more - there was a strange mix of cynicism and innocence that reminds him of someone he can’t quite remember. He was amused to see the way she blushed a little when he smiled at her and the way she watched him under lowered eyelashes.
After he’d dropped her off, helped her in (the neighbour entrusted with the keys had lost them and while Toshiko started to curse and fuss over what to do Jack, after a moment’s thought kicked the door open) he toyed with the idea of having an affair. It had been what? - twenty, twenty-five years since his last inter-work relationship? Might be nice.
However, the breaks were put on that on her first day; she was, Jack realised, utterly smitten with Owen. He allowed himself to feel insulted at being eclipsed by Owen, but didn’t hold it against either of them; Owen has some strange, almost mystical rapour when it comes to women and Toshiko, despite her taste in men (“Taste in men” - was that a song yet? He could play it in the Hub, see if Suzie and Tosh picked up on it. That and it was a damn fine song) was very intelligent and quite sweet - it was kind of difficult to dislike her.
Thinking back he could probably have pulled a sensitive guy act and got her on the rebound from Mary - hatred and loathing had never been obstacles for Jack as they had been for other people. But it would have been kinda cruel, and if she was going to recover herself properly she needed space from him and he should give her it. This was hopefully a one-time screw up, her only major screw-up to date (while Gwen, however good and pure her intentions, managed to bring trouble every other week. He allowed himself to be more annoyed this time because this is the third time in a row Owen’s pipped him to the post (even though he hasn’t strictly done anything with Tosh) and because he figured Gwen would be a little smarter than that, what with her boyfriend and all). He gave her time because up until now they’d had a pretty solid, steady relationship and he wanted it back. Hell, the way things were shifting he was probably going to need to be on friendly speaking terms with at least one of the team.
He tried to distract himself from the pretty (beautiful) Jack Harkness (he really doesn’t do the name justice, not now he’d seen the original) in 1941 by figuring out what he was going to do if they couldn’t get back. Where could they go? An American man and a Japanese woman - in this war they’d be discriminated against pretty much wherever they went. He’d probably get knifed if they went to Japan and America was not an option (he went there once, post-Pearl Habour. He was not taking Toshiko anywhere near). It would be easier, probably better for them both if they split up. But that was not going to happen, either; he wanted her where he could see her, where he could look after her and where he could blow the brains out of anyone who even tried to hurt her.
And later, when they were home safe and sound (and in his case utterly miserable) quietly toasting the real Captain he smiled at her over the rim - if they’d have been stuck there he’d have done anything for her.
The next day it felt like that moment never happened, like maybe it was just a dream. Because they were all against him now, even Ianto and Toshiko and given the things he told her the day before that came as a particular slap in the face. So Jack did what Jack does best - he slapped her right back.
Kathy (“Swanson” he called her in his head, waving it around like a silk scarf, because it’s just so damn elegant (in his mind, anyway)) came as a surprise, much as Ianto did. However, much as Ianto was, it was a pleasant, welcome one. It was nice to get together with someone like this on a regular basis, someone outside of Torchwood, be it sex, food and a movie or dancing in an insufficiently small room. She gave as good as she got, sharp in a way Suzie was (and wasn’t) that tongue of her so very cutting and so very clever.
He won’t claim that there aren’t any strings attached - there’s no such thing with prolonged sexual encounters; they’re always there, knotting so innocent and innocuously around the heart and, if they’re strong enough, pulling it one way or the other. He’s thought of ending it, especially when he started to see that Ianto falling harder than either of them meant, but ultimately didn’t.
He didn’t know what Kathy’s boyfriend does, or what he looks like, or even what his name is - and it’s not just because Kathy doesn’t mention him. He simply didn’t figure big in her life anymore (if ever he did). It was a wonder the two of them were still together, still share the same bed. It has probably descended into habit now, but Jack didn’t comment on it, because that would be cruel and he owed her big (still). She was lonely and Jack quite liked her actually (more than that even) and didn’t want her to be lonely and so they carried on shagging, heckling Tom Cruise (especially went he tried to fight/survive against aliens) and dancing the quickstep.
Gwen was something of an anomaly. Except, she wasn’t - not really. Not the first to make it into the Hub then get taken out for a drink by Jack. She found fault with the lift (as so many had before her) and called Jack a bastard (as so very many had before her). Coming back she’d been retconed…that hadn’t happened before. And it was because of that, on that whim that he hadn’t retconned her further and wiped the CCTV (he delegated that to Tosh) and instead hired her.
She was good. Useful. Had an outlook on the job they didn’t, had a way with people they lacked. And what was more - very much the icing and the cherry on the cake - she was normal. Had a boyfriend. Friends. A life. Jack liked that, liked the idea of it. He kept her close to begin with (perhaps a little too close) to make sure things stayed that way, that she wasn’t unhappy and that her life at home wouldn’t change too much. And because there was something, a tiny park of something, that reminded him of Rose. Rose, who apparently didn’t exist anymore, except on a list of the dead. Of course, all this time he gave to her he neglected the other a bit (that became clear - clearer than he would have liked - when Lisa was set loose and - but he couldn’t blame that all on Gwen, could he? Not really) and when he tried to sort them out, the minute his back was turned, she ended up in bed with Owen.
He’d felt a little betrayed to begin with. Whether this was on behalf of her boyfriend, or because Owen had beaten him to it again (he wouldn’t have started anything, but if she would insist on having an affair at work he’d have liked it to have been him) or because he’d given her more credit than that he doesn’t know. He didn’t keep her under his wing much after that - still spoilt her though, let her have her way.
And then, of course, he nearly killed her. Her and Suzie together. Well, he succeeded with Suzie. Not with Gwen, fortunately - Gwen was just in the way. She didn’t seem too bad and for a while he kidded himself into thinking that. Then he met her boyfriend, saw the tension (it didn’t take a deerstalker and magnifying glass) and later saw her crying over pizza alone in the Hub. She seemed a bit of a lost cause and after that he didn’t try quite as hard - she wasn’t the worst off of his team after all; he hadn’t killed her boyfriend. Yet.
He screwed up. He admitted that. Always does. Probably admits it too freely, makes it seem like he doesn’t care. He did. He does. But there was work to be done and it wouldn’t wait for him to follow Gwen’s HR friendly guidelines for dealing with staff. He’d let her have her way once too often, let them all do their own thing and play it by ear for too long. They saw that and they saw the cracks and made up their minds; they were not going to wait for the celebrated Captain Jack Harkness to screw up again.
Course, once every now and again he pulled off something bloody spectacular. Unfortunately, he couldn’t do that and drive - not the state he’s in, so he made Gwen drive him (now they’d got no answers they suddenly have faith in him, crowding around to share in the plan). She would’t try and stop him like Ianto, wouldn’t argue like Toshiko and Owen - well, he was still pissed at Owen (and maybe it was petty to hang on to that kind of thing now, with the world ending around them, but it was the kind of thing you can’t help but hold on to when someone’s shot you in the head then twice in the chest, just for the hell of it).
He woke up just in time to feel her kiss him, heard her walk away and says “Thank you”. For the kiss, for the punch in the face (he did deserve it, some of the things that he said), for driving him, he wasn’t really sure - it just seemed the thing to do. He looked over the paperwork and answered her very personal questions, because while it’s nice to have staff with a healthy respect for his privacy (i.e. trying to dig up information on him behind his back) it’s also quite nice to have someone who just asks bluntly.
Of course, the second he hears it, Gwen doesn’t matter. Nor does Owen. Or Toshiko. Or Ianto. No-one does. Except him.
Rating: PG - 13
Pairings: Jack/OFC, Jack/OFC, Jack/Rose (bit of Jack/Doctor), Jack/Estelle, Jack/Suzie, Jack/Toshiko, Jack/Swanson and Jack/Gwen
Summary: Loves of Captain Jack
Prompt: 85. She for
fanfic100
Word Count: 5247
Spoilers: Empty Child/Dr dances, Parting of the Ways, Torchwood series one.
A/N: Dedicated to
laligin, for support, help, general larks in real life and fandom.
She wasn’t the first person, or even the first woman he slept with, not by a long way. She was perhaps the first older woman; it had been - what seven, nine years? Quite an age gap now. Hadn’t mattered at the time, though. It was the war that had mattered - war and anything that made you feel life might actually be worth living.
Her name was Meredith (curious old Earth name) and she was one of Jack’s commanders. He can’t really remember what she looked like - hair and eyes and so forth - they spent enough time hiding in the dark that Jack had begun to forget what colour his own eyes were. One thing that sticks in his head is that she was short; only just made the height restrictions, and that was because of the heeled boots she was wearing when they measured her. They shut their eyes to that kind of thing in those days, needed the soldiers too badly. But Meredith wasn’t really a soldier. You put a gun, any kind of gun, in her hand and she was a bloody artist. She had all the precision (and calm) of a surgeon and the respect for life of a sadistic maniac. Jack had had quite the crush on her.
It was her exceptional body count that got her promotion and command over a team of four others; Jack and “that other kid” (his best and truest friend) were just out of training and even they could see that she wasn’t much of a leader. They managed to complete their missions somehow and if one of them was almost killed, well it was only almost, wasn’t it? It was only when they had to resort to new/old tactics and traditional crawling around in the mud, ignoring the fireworks from the dog fights overhead to get the jump on the enemy style of warfare that they fared any better. This kind of fighting suited them all much better and for two whole months none of them came even close to almost dying.
He remembers that strange smile she had and the way her eyes had slipped skywards when he was undressing them both - You’re pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you? Known plenty like you - naïve kids think they’ve seen it all. Nothing special. You all break the same. It had only happened the once. With him, anyway; she was a great believer in Spartan loyalty - you’ll fight harder, have greater loyalty for someone you’ve slept with, and all that. It actually worked quite well.
He remembers the last time he saw her; their mission had gone wrong - they’d gotten lazy, too content and she hadn’t dragged them out of it. Bax was gone in half an hour but that didn’t matter because they had the information, they just needed to get it back to base. She’d hidden them in an old shelter, coming apart at the seams. Taken time to calm them all down with her usual unthinking confidence. And they had been calm, until the Daleks began to attack. Rip dropped like a stone and she yelled at those stupid kids to move, didn’t they understand what was happening? She sent them on ahead with the information, while she practiced her art. Even today, after living by his pistol for a very literal lifetime he is an amateur compared to her; out of those five Daleks she managed to get them all. Except the one that mattered. That one shot the guns from her hands and then sent the life flying out of her. He remembers tripping over her body as he ran away. He never did find out what happened to it - he was too busy dodging torture at the hands of the enemy and execution at the hands of his allies.
(There was another girl, sweet looking thing called Hero. Not that Jack actually remembers what she looks like, or her name. Jack doesn’t remember her at all because maybe the technician was hung over, maybe it was the first such procedure the doctor had performed, maybe the paper pusher had had a dodgy biro, maybe someone has knocked one of the buttons or knobs - whatever the reason, instead of having two months erased they wiped two years, including Hero, the wedding ring he’d put away for safe keeping and their unnamed son. She went looking for him one and day disappeared quite mysteriously (the agency was always very good at covering up their mistakes). The boy was brought up by the friends his mother had left him with (they named him Jack) and knew little of his real parents - didn’t care to hear much about his wandering father or how much he looked like him. He lived a good life until the war (much as everyone else did) - his craft went down in flames.)
In 1941 and Jack made a new and unexpected friend. She was a pretty girl - not beautiful though and if she wasn’t a Time Agent (who should really have been re-sitting camouflage - if they’d actually passed her to be out in the field they really had gone to dogs) he might not have bothered, but he had got a job to do. She was clearly smitten with him, which made the flirting/gaining her trust part of the plan that much easier. A little too easy, as it turned out and then she couldn’t focus on the business side of things (they really were slipping if this girl made the cut), so they went off to find her partner, a Mr Spock. He heard all kinds of things about him along the way. Despite allowing Jack to sweep her off her feet she was clearly smitten with this guy.
So it was something of a surprise when Mr Spock turned out to be a man old enough to be her Dad. And in the course of an evening everything changed; they’re not marks - they’re comrades. Not U-boat captain with the big nose and flag girl the free-lancers, but the Doctor (a strange being - clearly an alien - who was apparently approaching a thousand years, yet rarely acts like it) and Rose.
Rose…she’s difficult to put into words. She’s Rose. Cat curious, big heart and lives life to the full. He loved being around her, remembering what it was like to be young (and doesn’t that say something? He was only just coming out into his late thirties) when so much of the world (worlds in their case) is new and just waiting to be discovered, questioned and prodded and have its legs pulled off.
Those days in the TARDIS, flirting with Rose and then the Doctor just to see the look on Rose’s face…they were some of the best days - a halcyon he looked back on with wistful fondness. He and the Doctor kept her out of trouble, she and Jack stop the Doctor getting too moody (and were successful, most of the time) and she and the Doctor…they saved Jack. Turned him around and had him fighting the good fight. And he loves them for that. They made a good team, the three of them. Kinda like a little family away from all their real families. Those are always just as good, sometimes even better because this family you chose to a part of. Plus more opportunities for snogging.
Which he did, by the way. He flirted and snogged and may have slept with her once (whatever they were drinking was clearly not meant for human consumption). And he loves her, but not insert commitment ceremony here, have children and a house and break the neck of anyone who makes a pass at her. Well, okay, he did that last one anyway - but only because the Doctor, for all his ferocity, seemed to have qualms about beating people. Even when it was some scumbag hitting on the girl he seemed to be rather in love with. Didn’t seem to mind Jack around her though (a trust which made Jack feel all kinds of smug, especially given how determined the Doctor had seemed to hate him at first sight), so long as Jack flirted and snogged him just the same (which makes him worry that he might owe the Doctor a hung over “did-we-actually-sleep-together, oh-bugger-you-mean-you-can’t-remember-either?” morning, complete with a “just-in-case-we-did-can’t-have-word-getting-around-that-I’m-not-a-gentlemen” breakfast in bed).
Saying goodbye to them both he got a good look at her, taking her in for the last time. She wasn’t that exotic - not really. Just an ordinary girl who’d been dodging bad guys and helping to thwart plans to take over planets like she was born to it, determined that they would do what is right and that they would not become the monster in doing so. Not long before he would have scoffed at her, called her a naïve little girl. Instead he felt proud. Proud that he had been her friend and, at times, protector. Proud that he had been trusted to look after her.
When the air burnt his throat again - that first time - he heard her, joyous in her power (I bring life) heard a handful of pitiful screams - in pain, useless anger and fear - of the Daleks. It was her making them scream - her. Rose Tyler, nineteen year old London shop girl who Jack and the Doctor had to drag to make sure she kept up with them. She had these mythical beings, the epitome of hatred and strength at their knees, reducing them to dust. She was nineteen and she -
She was running through him. Inside him, like one of them had turned into a ghost and stepped inside the other’s space. Her and the TARDIS, giving life as they took it away from so many others. Both of them were calling him home, drawing him in the right direction. But then the calls started to get fainter, Rose’s voice started to get weaker. He speed up and then stopped in alarm when he heard (felt) the Doctor screaming in his head. He ran, flying like he never had in his life before -
Just in time to see the ghost of the TARDIS disappear. The voices fell silent. Jack didn’t know how long he stood there in the empty endless corridors of dust. All he did know the heavy feeling in his chest, a tight feeing in his throat and his fingers won’t stop shaking. He knew they’d left. He knew that something had ended - and not just because he had been left. And he knew that his family, his home, were gone. And he didn’t know if he’d ever see them again.
Estelle was what the Italians call a thunderbolt. One minute you were sipping your drink, schmoozing quite happily, next minute a girl spins around, smiling like she’s having the time of her life and it’s as if all the lights, except the ones on her are turned off - no one else, nothing else existed, but her. The spell was broken (almost) when she wandered over to him, ignoring a sailor who tries to take her arm and asked “Care to dance?”
And before Jack knew it there he was, out on the dance floor, twirling her around, the envy of every other man in the hall (or at least that’s what it felt like). He would have been offended - he was used to people envying his dance partners - but found that he really didn’t care. She was entirely too beautiful in a way he didn’t quite understand. She soon roused him from his confusion with a warm, coaxing voice (she was laughing near him, not at him);
“You always let the women lead, or am I special?”
“You’re very special,” he told her “but I’ll lead if that’s what you want.”
They danced all night; didn’t stop for drinks, didn’t stop when their feet were aching, didn’t stop when the songs they hated came on, didn’t stop to keep promises of the next dance they’d made earlier- if the band hadn’t stopped and lights hadn’t switched off they might have danced forever. That was how it felt, anyway. They even danced a few steps out in the street, just for kicks. It was only when they were saying goodbye that they actually learnt each others’ names. And when Jack fell asleep and dreamed he dreamed of her. This, he thought on waking, this was the kind of love he had heard so much about all these years. He’d always scoffed at it back then, thought it frivolous and shallow. But it wasn’t - it was wonderful and he felt so dizzy - like flying and he never wanted to come back down.
He looked for her again at the dancehall the next night. And the night after. And the night after that and every night he came away without dancing (because he’d found if he couldn’t dance with her, then he didn’t want to dance at all) there was a pain in his chest that hurt all the more because he didn’t expect it. Then, the fourth night, he heard someone call his name and when he turned he found his arms full of Estelle, breathless and laughing. This night was not as kind as the first - aside from being interrupted by the German bombs (Jack was stunned for a moment when he hears how eloquently she cussed at them then nearly choked laughing and she slapped his shoulder, but it was all in good fun) and she had to go home early because her mother was furious with her at coming back so late that first night, but that was fine with Jack when she promised to come see him again at the hall.
The next two nights they talked and found out about one another and Jack was quite delighted to find that she could drink some of his colleagues under the table. He walked her home both nights, see her there safe and all, and met her mother and younger brothers (Bertwas only a year or two away from being eligible and they all worried about him being called up).
After a few more nights they didn’t go to the hall at all and instead he came around for dinner, bringing a bit of meat and what chocolate he could get his hands on because otherwise he’d feel guilty about taking their food (three kids, two parents and a grandmother was bound to stretch the coupons, never mind bloody Americans coming to tea). He won the cat over almost instantly, which he knew from experience is a good sign. Her Dad looked as though he had prepared a number of complaints and slights, but was silenced, partly by the fact that Jack didn’t slip up once and partly by her mother, impressed at his thoughtfulness (as are her brothers when they receive their share of the spoils).
And so went on the pattern of dance halls and dinners, going on and on and it felt like it could go on forever, nothing ever changing, no one ever aging; just going on and on like a waltz. If he could have died he hoped it would be like this with a bomb hitting the dancehall while the band were in full swing, or at dinner as they listened to Estelle’s father (a fire fighter) recount the day’s events as they passed the meat. Of course the war (oddly enough) managed to throw a spanner in the works and Jack was moved elsewhere and it was almost a given that he’d die (and while he knows that he’d probably get up again afterward, she didn’t). Their vicar took pity on them and they got married in a hurry. It was just Estelle’s family and some of their friends from the dance hall (and the owner, who knew them well by now and had been cajoling them to get married for a month or so), but it was a beautiful ceremony - or would be if they all weren’t crying so much.
The next day he held her hands in his and kissed her goodbye. He died at his new placement as expected and after he coming around again slipped away - he’d go down as missing in action.
He promised himself that he’d come back to her someday. When he eventually did get around to it, having to take time in a straight line, rather than skipping from place to place as he has for so much of his life, she has grown old and for a moment he was too taken aback to speak. That didn’t matter too much though, because she was in much the same state. Over the next year he heard her recount thing she and his “father” got up to. It was amazing the detail with which she remembered these things. She got married again, but he was the one, she told him. Whenever he leaves her he’s crying.
And for a year it was idyllic; he didn’t have to answer to her for leaving her or not aging - they got on very well, except when it came to the fairies. And then the cruel things went and killed her out of childish spite. Then he was the one left crying in the doorway. Except he knew that there won’t be a girl that turns up on the doorstep one day when he’s old and grey that looks the spit of Estelle when she was young.
He’s pretty damn proud of Suzie to begin with; she’s brilliant, a real find on Jack’s part (Torchwood One kept trying to find excuses to steal her - a sure-fire sign of someone’s capabilities).He found her in a grey government building bored as hell. Persuading her to transfer was pretty easy; she had apparently already heard of Torchwood and though she had only a vague idea of what did (apparently knew nothing about the alien bit) jumped at the chance to be a part of it.
In her innocence he almost fell for Suzie. She was very no nonsense, which was refreshing after all those people that Torchwood One had sent who were all so desperate to do great grand things and change the world, so fixed on that one goal that the little things tripped them up. She was enthusiastic without being too idealistic (he always hated breaking those people in), made him feel that what they were doing was for the good of the people again. Like it was maybe more than something he could do while he waited for the Doctor to turn up again. It was nice.
But then, when you set someone up on a pedestal, even if it’s scant inches off the ground, they’re bound to fall off it. It’s only a matter of time. And Suzie seemed to do it over and over again. He didn’t think that the job might be getting too much for her, might be taking over her. She seemed to strong for that, too tough to let some fancy philosophical notion about the limits of space stop her sleeping. Because that’s the thing with Jack; he doesn’t always see people for what they are - sometimes he focuses more on what they could be.
He was a little disappointed when he found out about her and Owen, but not too much. After all, nice as she was she could be really obsessive and anal about things, and while she and Toshiko shared a no-nonsense sensibility Tosh could (and would) let her hair down every now and again. If Owen was Suzie’s way of doing that, then good for her. She was always working late these days. If he thought about it a little more he might realise that it was about the time they found the glove, but he didn’t; he and Tosh were too busy heckling Owen when it was his turn in pool.
But he does (did?) love her in an odd almost familial way. It hurt to see things turn out the way they did. Probably not as much as it hurt Suzie, but then again she was dead (repeatedly) and that doesn’t hurt as bad or as long anyone makes out - but then none of them have ever been dead and come back, so what do they know? He liked to think that she might have loved him that way too (their relationship does seem similar to the one with her father, what with all the killing). She always tried so hard, felt so much. She was a good girl gone bad in the truest sense. Jack should know, God knows, he’s seen enough of them.
Once that glove was destroyed her problems were over. His, it turned out, were only just beginning.
In 2006 he received (read; kidnapped under cover of darkness) a new member of staff from Torchwood One (they themselves stole her from UNIT only eight months before). He decided when he picked her up from the station and drove her to her new address he rather liked Toshiko Sato and wouldn’t tell her about her predecessor’s nervous breakdown. They got stuck in a traffic jam on the way there and as they talked he decided he liked her even more - there was a strange mix of cynicism and innocence that reminds him of someone he can’t quite remember. He was amused to see the way she blushed a little when he smiled at her and the way she watched him under lowered eyelashes.
After he’d dropped her off, helped her in (the neighbour entrusted with the keys had lost them and while Toshiko started to curse and fuss over what to do Jack, after a moment’s thought kicked the door open) he toyed with the idea of having an affair. It had been what? - twenty, twenty-five years since his last inter-work relationship? Might be nice.
However, the breaks were put on that on her first day; she was, Jack realised, utterly smitten with Owen. He allowed himself to feel insulted at being eclipsed by Owen, but didn’t hold it against either of them; Owen has some strange, almost mystical rapour when it comes to women and Toshiko, despite her taste in men (“Taste in men” - was that a song yet? He could play it in the Hub, see if Suzie and Tosh picked up on it. That and it was a damn fine song) was very intelligent and quite sweet - it was kind of difficult to dislike her.
Thinking back he could probably have pulled a sensitive guy act and got her on the rebound from Mary - hatred and loathing had never been obstacles for Jack as they had been for other people. But it would have been kinda cruel, and if she was going to recover herself properly she needed space from him and he should give her it. This was hopefully a one-time screw up, her only major screw-up to date (while Gwen, however good and pure her intentions, managed to bring trouble every other week. He allowed himself to be more annoyed this time because this is the third time in a row Owen’s pipped him to the post (even though he hasn’t strictly done anything with Tosh) and because he figured Gwen would be a little smarter than that, what with her boyfriend and all). He gave her time because up until now they’d had a pretty solid, steady relationship and he wanted it back. Hell, the way things were shifting he was probably going to need to be on friendly speaking terms with at least one of the team.
He tried to distract himself from the pretty (beautiful) Jack Harkness (he really doesn’t do the name justice, not now he’d seen the original) in 1941 by figuring out what he was going to do if they couldn’t get back. Where could they go? An American man and a Japanese woman - in this war they’d be discriminated against pretty much wherever they went. He’d probably get knifed if they went to Japan and America was not an option (he went there once, post-Pearl Habour. He was not taking Toshiko anywhere near). It would be easier, probably better for them both if they split up. But that was not going to happen, either; he wanted her where he could see her, where he could look after her and where he could blow the brains out of anyone who even tried to hurt her.
And later, when they were home safe and sound (and in his case utterly miserable) quietly toasting the real Captain he smiled at her over the rim - if they’d have been stuck there he’d have done anything for her.
The next day it felt like that moment never happened, like maybe it was just a dream. Because they were all against him now, even Ianto and Toshiko and given the things he told her the day before that came as a particular slap in the face. So Jack did what Jack does best - he slapped her right back.
Kathy (“Swanson” he called her in his head, waving it around like a silk scarf, because it’s just so damn elegant (in his mind, anyway)) came as a surprise, much as Ianto did. However, much as Ianto was, it was a pleasant, welcome one. It was nice to get together with someone like this on a regular basis, someone outside of Torchwood, be it sex, food and a movie or dancing in an insufficiently small room. She gave as good as she got, sharp in a way Suzie was (and wasn’t) that tongue of her so very cutting and so very clever.
He won’t claim that there aren’t any strings attached - there’s no such thing with prolonged sexual encounters; they’re always there, knotting so innocent and innocuously around the heart and, if they’re strong enough, pulling it one way or the other. He’s thought of ending it, especially when he started to see that Ianto falling harder than either of them meant, but ultimately didn’t.
He didn’t know what Kathy’s boyfriend does, or what he looks like, or even what his name is - and it’s not just because Kathy doesn’t mention him. He simply didn’t figure big in her life anymore (if ever he did). It was a wonder the two of them were still together, still share the same bed. It has probably descended into habit now, but Jack didn’t comment on it, because that would be cruel and he owed her big (still). She was lonely and Jack quite liked her actually (more than that even) and didn’t want her to be lonely and so they carried on shagging, heckling Tom Cruise (especially went he tried to fight/survive against aliens) and dancing the quickstep.
Gwen was something of an anomaly. Except, she wasn’t - not really. Not the first to make it into the Hub then get taken out for a drink by Jack. She found fault with the lift (as so many had before her) and called Jack a bastard (as so very many had before her). Coming back she’d been retconed…that hadn’t happened before. And it was because of that, on that whim that he hadn’t retconned her further and wiped the CCTV (he delegated that to Tosh) and instead hired her.
She was good. Useful. Had an outlook on the job they didn’t, had a way with people they lacked. And what was more - very much the icing and the cherry on the cake - she was normal. Had a boyfriend. Friends. A life. Jack liked that, liked the idea of it. He kept her close to begin with (perhaps a little too close) to make sure things stayed that way, that she wasn’t unhappy and that her life at home wouldn’t change too much. And because there was something, a tiny park of something, that reminded him of Rose. Rose, who apparently didn’t exist anymore, except on a list of the dead. Of course, all this time he gave to her he neglected the other a bit (that became clear - clearer than he would have liked - when Lisa was set loose and - but he couldn’t blame that all on Gwen, could he? Not really) and when he tried to sort them out, the minute his back was turned, she ended up in bed with Owen.
He’d felt a little betrayed to begin with. Whether this was on behalf of her boyfriend, or because Owen had beaten him to it again (he wouldn’t have started anything, but if she would insist on having an affair at work he’d have liked it to have been him) or because he’d given her more credit than that he doesn’t know. He didn’t keep her under his wing much after that - still spoilt her though, let her have her way.
And then, of course, he nearly killed her. Her and Suzie together. Well, he succeeded with Suzie. Not with Gwen, fortunately - Gwen was just in the way. She didn’t seem too bad and for a while he kidded himself into thinking that. Then he met her boyfriend, saw the tension (it didn’t take a deerstalker and magnifying glass) and later saw her crying over pizza alone in the Hub. She seemed a bit of a lost cause and after that he didn’t try quite as hard - she wasn’t the worst off of his team after all; he hadn’t killed her boyfriend. Yet.
He screwed up. He admitted that. Always does. Probably admits it too freely, makes it seem like he doesn’t care. He did. He does. But there was work to be done and it wouldn’t wait for him to follow Gwen’s HR friendly guidelines for dealing with staff. He’d let her have her way once too often, let them all do their own thing and play it by ear for too long. They saw that and they saw the cracks and made up their minds; they were not going to wait for the celebrated Captain Jack Harkness to screw up again.
Course, once every now and again he pulled off something bloody spectacular. Unfortunately, he couldn’t do that and drive - not the state he’s in, so he made Gwen drive him (now they’d got no answers they suddenly have faith in him, crowding around to share in the plan). She would’t try and stop him like Ianto, wouldn’t argue like Toshiko and Owen - well, he was still pissed at Owen (and maybe it was petty to hang on to that kind of thing now, with the world ending around them, but it was the kind of thing you can’t help but hold on to when someone’s shot you in the head then twice in the chest, just for the hell of it).
He woke up just in time to feel her kiss him, heard her walk away and says “Thank you”. For the kiss, for the punch in the face (he did deserve it, some of the things that he said), for driving him, he wasn’t really sure - it just seemed the thing to do. He looked over the paperwork and answered her very personal questions, because while it’s nice to have staff with a healthy respect for his privacy (i.e. trying to dig up information on him behind his back) it’s also quite nice to have someone who just asks bluntly.
Of course, the second he hears it, Gwen doesn’t matter. Nor does Owen. Or Toshiko. Or Ianto. No-one does. Except him.