Doctor Who: Ginger
Title: Ginger
Pairings/Characters: Doctor/Captain Jack Harkness
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I would love to own these characters, but sadly I do not.
Warnings: Takes place before Reset in Torchwood.
Summary: It’s been a few months since that year with the Master was erased from the minds of Earth’s population. Who knows how long it’s been for the Doctor-he’s suddenly on his eleventh regeneration-but when he needs Captain Jack to save the human race, he pays a visit to Torchwood.
Jack never stayed in his office for very long. He liked the feel of it, of course. It was legitimate. He had genuine authority when he sat up there, able to look down into the heart of the Hub at his hand-picked employees. But after traveling through time and space, even the biggest of offices made Jack claustrophobic.
This particular morning, Jack was immersed in paperwork-another downside of rejecting the Doctor’s offer to continue traveling with him. But when the coffee ran dry, Jack decided to talk to Tosh about preventing any rifts from opening up inside the Hub again. They barely had enough cells to contain the weevils that had spilled out and ransacked their equipment.
So, empty coffee mug in hand, Jack finally left his office. Good thing, too, because his team had no fewer than five pistols trained on a man in a familiar pinstripe suit. The converse shoes were gone, as was the big hair, lanky body, and large brown eyes, but Jack knew the Doctor when he saw him. That gentle arrogance-that was the biggest clue. Only the Doctor could stand, as he so often did, with his hands casually shoved in his coat pockets, his mouth set in an unworried line, and his eyes holding worlds within them, and be more welcoming than snobbish.
Or at least Jack felt welcome whenever he saw the Doctor. Others were afraid, unimpressed, or unconcerned. Most times the Doctor went unnoticed when he took casual strolls on planets or through space stations until he came across some sort of corruption built on a foundation made of toothpicks. The Doctor picked his teeth and regimes ended. He was the most famous man who had saved the world wearing multiple faces.
So, although the TARDIS was nowhere in sight from the upper deck of the Hub, Jack knew his team had cornered the Doctor. He also knew he’d die before he forced the Doctor to regenerate once more. This incarnation would not leave without Jack getting a proper feel for him-and maybe for more than his personality.
Now that he was apparently on his third Doctor, Jack decided he could very well be the first human expert on Time Lord regenerations. He could write a book on the subtle personality changes, manifested largely by the Doctor’s choice of wardrobe as well as his new body, mixed in with the stable convictions that made Jack love the Doctor no matter what he looked like.
The Doctor looked up when he saw Jack lean casually against the railing of the upper deck. Yup, those eyes held the universe within them. There was no doubt in Jack’s mind that he was staring at the Doctor.
Jack laced his fingers together and grinned. “You better watch out. You’re starting to die more frequently than I do.”
“Jack.” The Doctor nodded.
“Doctor.”
Owen looked up at Jack, back at the Doctor, and then up at Jack again. “You know him?”
“It’s his doctor,” Ianto said quietly.
The Doctor kept still in his casual, unhurried stance while Jack skipped down the stairs. Jack knew he was grinning like a lovesick idiot. The Doctor was back! The Doctor was in the Hub! The Doctor was looking for him, for Captain Jack Harkness!
Jack stopped at the end of the stairs. Of course, there could be something wrong. The Doctor had never come for him before. In fact, the Doctor consistently ran away from Jack, using the advantage of the TARDIS to flee as far as he possibly could: through time and space.
And Jack was “wrong,” at that. He wasn’t supposed to exist. He should have died and stayed dead on the game station-that the Doctor was clear about. But Rose, the human girl the Doctor had looked at with more feeling than he had at any creature, planet, or situation they’d come across, had given life to Jack. Eternal life. When Rose was lost forever, how could the Doctor look at Jack like he was a mistake?
The new Doctor, however, didn’t seem so cold. There was that gentle arrogance, yes, but the Doctor wasn’t running. He wasn’t calling Jack wrong and then asking him to travel through time and space once more with him. He wasn’t driving Jack mad with his sublime presence. He was just standing there, smirking at Jack.
So his grin returned to the Captain. He dropped all pretenses and ran at the Doctor, only stopping when he had him in a full embrace. The Doctor hugged him back, too, setting Jack on fire with emotion. No one made him happier-no one made him happier to die for a cause than the Doctor. And no one made him feel so heavy a need to protect him.
And the Doctor hugged him back. He whispered “hello” in his ear and pressed his hands into his back and shoulder and was really warm, warmer than Jack remembered him being.
Or course, when they pulled apart, there were still five guns trained on the Doctor’s new form. There were four humans who somehow knew they were dealing with Torchwood’s number one enemy and who had gained enough independence during Jack’s last rendezvous with the Doctor not to follow his lead.
Jack looked at each of them. “Put your guns down.”
“Do you know who that is, Jack?” Gwen kept her gun steady.
“Gwen, he’s not your enemy.”
“He came out of that police box over there. I’ve read up on him,” Gwen said, her gun wavering slightly under Jack’s scrutiny. “We’ve got a file, a big one, and it’s labeled … it’s not …” She put her gun away.
“Good.” Jack looked at the rest of his team. “If you read the Doctor’s file, like Gwen, you’ll know just how many times he’s saved planet Earth. And if you want a job to come back to tomorrow, I suggest you put your guns down.”
Tosh gave in immediately. Ianto followed, lowering his weapon at a snail’s pace while he refused to meet neither Jack nor the Doctor’s eyes.
Owen was the last to give in. He was the most suspicious, the most cynical of Jack’s young team, yet he was more trusting of Torchwood’s biased files than of the shunned facts within.
“You can hardly blame us, Jack,” Owen said. “He’s been Torchwood’s number one enemy since Queen Victoria was on the throne.”
The Doctor grinned and rocked back on his heels at the memory. He still retained the more playful aspects of his previous reincarnation. In fact, judging by the tightness of the suit he wore, which the Doctor was attempting to hide with his trench coat, Jack suspected he may have regenerated so recently he hadn’t found time to choose a new outfit let alone figure out this reincarnation’s quirks. His converse shoes, however, were replaced by white running trainers worn ragged.
The Doctor caught Jack looking. “Ah, yes, those,” he said. “Had to borrow them off a friend.”
“What happened?” Jack knew the Doctor would hear his unspoken question.
“End of the world stuff.” The Doctor shrugged. “Didn’t go quite as expected, mind you. That’s why I’ve got this lovely new face. Have you a mirror, by any chance? Not quite sure how lovely this new face is.”
Jack resisted the urge to break out into peels of laughter. “Color me surprised, Doctor. I never thought you’d save the world and then come back here just to get my opinion on your makeover-or my mirror’s opinion.”
“Oi, you better not be holding any Reflecticainians hostage, Captain. Ran into a family of those few weeks back. Glued to the walls of a smuggling ship, can you believe it?”
“They must have been pretty vain smugglers.”
The Doctor murmured something at his worn shoes. Then he looked up at Jack, smiling like the tenth Doctor, whose face would fade slowly from Jack’s mind. Though Jack could see the Doctor through his regenerations, it had taken more than a trip to the end of the universe to get used to his new face. Jack was faced with the task yet again.
“You’re not so bad, Doctor,” he said, pointing in the general direction of the Doctor’s head.
The Doctor’s eyes widened. “Am I ginger? I’ve always wanted to be ginger.”
Jack smiled. “Yup. You’ve got a full head of nice, red hair.”
The Doctor immediately ran his hands through his hair, probably wondering what shade of ginger. Jack wouldn’t tell him he wasn’t copper or fiery. He was more of a burnt red, a shade away from auburn. His nose was straighter than his last incarnation, but not as thin. His eyes were wider, too, and hazel.
“You’ve filled out nicely,” Jack said, leering at the Doctor, who was still much too preoccupied with his hair to notice.
“Ginger,” he sighed happily. Then he straightened up and looked seriously at Jack.
“Nearly forgot what I came here for,” he said.
“To use my mirror?”
“No, no, no. To take advantage of your unique abilities.” The Doctor paused suddenly, his eyes glued to something just over Jack’s shoulder. “Oh, that didn’t sound right, did it?”
“My abilities, huh? And which ones might those be?”
“Well, first off,” the Doctor said as he wound his way over to the vault where Torchwood kept their many rift-salvaged and peculiar alien objects, “we’re going to need some supplies. You’ve got something of mine, Captain.”
“Doctor, if you want the key to the TARDIS back …”
“Oh, stop it.”
The Doctor whipped out his sonic screwdriver from his too-tight suit and pointed it at the vault, which opened in a pathetically short amount of time. Then the Doctor retrieved an object about two inches thick and shaped like a five-pointed star.
“Here we go. Aren’t you a beauty?”
Jack watched the Doctor admire an object that Toshiko had spent a full week trying to get a reaction from but had failed miserably. Trust the Doctor to know not just the object’s inner workings, but that it was locked up at Torchwood Three-just like something else he needed.
“Doctor, this ability of mine-it wouldn’t be dying and coming back to life, would it? ‘Cause I think I had enough of that trying to get a certain bunch of future toclafane to ‘Utopia.’ And then there was that year with the-” Jack stopped when he saw the Doctor’s face turn not quite sour. More morose. He was thinking of the Master. He was mourning the Time Lord who had used Jack’s certain special ability to torture him for a full year. Mourning the last of the Time Lords with his two hearts and twelve regenerations, his laser screwdriver, and his love-hate relationship with the Doctor. And there stood Jack Harkness with his sonic blaster locked away in storage.
Jack sighed. “I’m there. Whatever you need me for, Doctor.”
“Jack! You can’t just leave us again,” said Gwen. “We went all the way to the Himalayas looking for you. You can’t-”
“Yeah, well now you’ll know I’m with the Doctor.”
Jack looked at each member of his team, though it stung to see Ianto’s hurt expression the most. It was so blatantly plastered across his face. He wouldn’t try to hide it, not from Jack. But it wouldn’t make the Captain stay.
“You’re remarkable people, all of you,” he told his team. “You’re perfectly capable of doing this job without me-”
“That’s not true, Jack,” said Gwen.
“You can manage without me.” Jack glanced at the Doctor, who had resumed looking aloof and imposing over by the TARDIS. “And I won’t be gone long.”
No one said much after that. Jack was still their leader, and if he made so clear a decision, they would follow it. Jack was free to go to the Doctor, to step into the TARDIS once more and travel through time and space without being pulled apart inside by his vortex manipulator. The TARDIS was the smoothest ride in the universe-and she missed him even through her fear of what he’d become because of her.
In the doorway of the TARDIS, Jack turned around and tried to look as daunting as the Doctor. “Gwen, you’re in charge. I shouldn’t need to say this,” he said to everyone before punctuating his last six words with strong pauses, “but don’t play with the rift.”
It took only a minute to leave the Hub. The Doctor ran around the central controls of the TARDIS just like his previous two regenerations, which brightened Jack’s mood. He’d have to remind the Doctor to find a new outfit, though. Some buttons were dangerously close to turning into projectile weapons. This regeneration, he figured, was physically built somewhere between the previous two.
The Doctor changed while they traveled to the unknown destination where Jack would have to give his life (maybe more than once) to solve the Doctor’s problem. He thought it might have been the Doctor’s fault in the first place, as it was easy to mistake the problems the Doctor frequently encountered as results of his overabundant curiosity, his pure cheek. Whatever the case, Jack would do it, and when he complained about it, he wouldn’t mean it.
But to prepare himself, Jack spent some time with the TARDIS while it traveled. He ran his fingers lightly over its controls. He gripped the stronger parts of it. It hummed, pleased to have him back.
“Yeah, I remember our time together. Fixing you up, all those times we messed around with your engine.” The TARDIS sparked him. It was light, playful like the Doctor could be when he wasn’t bothered by some apocalypse. Jack laughed.
“If you’re done molesting my ship, Captain,” said the Doctor after clearing his throat, “we could go now.”
Jack looked him over. “Another suit, Doctor?”
“I prefer them.”
“Yeah, but people in the 21st century usually wear dress shirts underneath.” Jack pointed to his own ensemble. He wore a baby blue dress shirt, braces, nice gray trousers, and his thick, warm greatcoat. Underneath his dark gray suit coat, the Doctor wore what Jack was positive was a t-shirt. It was stylized, but it was a t-shirt nonetheless.
“Not always,” the Doctor protested.
“It’s unprofessional.”
“You’re supposed to say you love it.”
“Well, you’re ginger now. You can’t go running around wearing just anything you want.”
“Oh, do shut up,” the Doctor said, but he seemed to accept Jack’s critique and he started tinkering with the TARDIS, which was now slowly drifting through space. Jack watched him until the Doctor spoke again.
“You seem to have a talent, Jack.”
“You mean dying and coming back to life? Yeah, it’s the finale of my act.”
“No, not that. I mean recognizing me. Rose was the typical human. Thought I was a completely different person just because my face changed. It took her a while to get used to me, but you. You saw me right away. Both times.” The Doctor frowned. Jack couldn’t help but laugh.
“Doctor, you’ve got quirks. But I think I know what you’re really wondering about.” Jack made his way over to the Doctor, who raised his eyebrows at the suggestion that he was being dishonest. Jack stopped a good foot from him. When he set his hand next to the controls of the TARDIS, she sparked him with more intensity. She was so connected with the Doctor. Jack could almost feel him through her.
“You’re wondering how I can see through you, and not in that superficial way where I can tell you’re the Doctor even though you’ve got a bigger nose and redder hair. It’s how I don’t even flinch, isn’t it?” Jack stepped even closer to the Doctor. He could hear him breathing. Two hearts, pumping alien blood. It never occurred to Jack how ironic his job was.
“Jack.”
“I think it scares you that I can spot you from across a room. How’s it feel to be the universe’s most infamous savior? Better than being the universe’s most famous, am I right?”
The Doctor stepped away from Jack and the TARDIS. “Caught onto something, have you?”
“You’re not the Master yearning to rule all life. You knew if Martha succeeded in telling Earth about you, we could destroy the paradox machine and no one would remember your name.”
“Oh, that’s not … UNIT’s perfectly aware of my existence. Torchwood doesn’t seem too happy about it, but there you all are, knowing about Time Lords and TARDISes.”
“Queen Victoria called you a threat. She was prejudiced against you because you’re not human.”
Jack-”
“But you’ve saved the world so many times.” Jack laughed. “You make me look like an amateur. But you disappear before cleanup begins. You take no credit. You want to stay unknown, Doctor.”
“Of course I do. Makes my life easier, doesn’t it? I’m a traveler. I haven’t got a job. All I do is drift through time and space with clumsy apes like you until inevitably we stumble across all life ending.” The Doctor shrugged. “Why shouldn’t I right it? History books, Jack, should be kept clean of my name.”
Jack nodded. “Yeah, but I’m not some kid sitting in a classroom on the Boeshane Peninsula learning about all the times crisis was mysteriously averted.” He waited for the Doctor to say something to that, maybe lie and claim Jack was still a kid who was ignorant of the fixed way life worked. What was 150 odd years to a 903-year-old Time Lord anyway? Maybe Jack was still a kid, a wide-eyed child in the face of the Doctor.
The Doctor stayed quiet for a minute. Having nothing else to say, Jack turned away and crossed his arms. He wondered briefly what would happen if he marched over to the doors of the TARDIS and flung them open. What did it matter?
“I should trust you more,” the Doctor said finally. “Or I shouldn’t. You’re the only human to have part of the TARDIS inside him. You’re a fixed point, an ex-Time Agent, the leader of Torchwood Three.” Jack turned back to find the Doctor staring at him. “But I should trust you more.”
“I’ve died for you, Doctor, and I’d do it again.”
The TARDIS suddenly jolted the two about as it settled at its destination. No more time for a soul-searching conversation, Jack realized with faint disappointment. Time to save the world. Which world Jack wasn’t quite sure.
“Ah, here we are.” The Doctor skipped over to the doors of the TARDIS, but turned around to face Jack before opening them. “Ready?”
Jack forced his smile into a grin. “Always.”
***
Jack closed his eyes. One … two … three. No, still there. Damn.
Don’t worry. That’s what the Doctor had said. Keep your chin up and your eyes open. Don’t forget that Harkness charm.
Jack made his way through a giant throng of diverse alien species, which had congregated in the small but open space to exchange goods and services. It was the Arabian market of the future. Rich, brilliantly detailed fabrics were draped over cold metal technology. Hand-made, earth-toned objects stood out from the blue lights of the credit-reading machines.
Jack ran his hand over a square object with a chameleon circuit that allowed it to blend into the home of any alien species no matter how harsh or strangely decorated the environment. Jack had seen them before. They eliminated allergies from the home. On Earth, they would allow people to have cats and dogs as indoor pets. His grandmother had kept one ever since Jack could remember. She’d claimed it was so that he and Gray could visit her, and Jack had convinced his little brother that she turned it off when Jack went to see her without him. He could remember that. So much he’d lost, but that he’d managed to hold onto.
Gently moving people out of the way, Jack sifted through the bazaar until he located his target. The being was humanoid as far as Jack could tell; it was covered head-to-toe in thick, black fabric. Not even its eyes shone through.
Jack stopped at a kiosk selling jewelry that allowed the wearer to manipulate their own emotions. Beads to lie. Jack didn’t need them.
From the kiosk, he observed his target. He watched it stand completely still. No one touched it, but they seemed completely unaware that something about it softly pushed them away. To anyone besides Jack, his target was pushed around as much as everyone else shopping in the crowded bazaar. But no one attempted to truly get close.
Jack looked at his wrist strap. Five seconds to go time. The Doctor would give him a hundred bucks if he could pull this off in less than five minutes. So Jack was gonna do it in three.
“Hi,” he said, the perfect picture of sugary cheer. His target’s eyes, possibly, swiveled toward him and glared.
Jack cocked his head, keeping his sexy grin. “Come here often?”
His target didn’t answer.
“Oh, the silent type. I like that. Tall, dark, and silent. Great combination.” Jack leaned in and his target stiffened. “I bet I can change that.”
Still his target was silent.
“You know, I’ve got a ship just around the corner. Nice and private. Or, you know, this place has its nooks and crannies. I’ve never been much of a private person.” Jack bit his lip, thinking of the hundred dollar bill slithering out of sight with every second his target stood rigid and mute. But right then, his target cocked his head and seemed to finally see Jack.
“Security Protocol: One. State your species.”
“Oh, a robot!” Jack grinned. “Well, that’s never stopped me. Tell me, stranger, have you ever been with a human?”
“Species confirmed: human being. Native planet: Earth. Initiate: Master Plan.”
“Well, see that’s what I like to hear. I’m not much for the master thing, but it’s been a while-” Jack cut off as his trachea was nearly reduced to the size of a straw. The robot hummed, its hand wrapped around Jack’s neck. The alien shoppers around them noticed, but not one stepped up to help. They scurried around the two, heading for crowds they could blend into and hide their guilt.
But not ten seconds later, Jack was released. The robot initiated protocol such-and-such and ceased to function. The master plan had been put into action. Unfortunately for the master planner, Jack knew just what to do.
There were no other humans in the bazaar, which was how the Doctor had been able to take the time to retrieve Jack. The newest regeneration was currently preoccupied with shutting down the master planner by somehow using his five-pointed star contraption, so it was up to Jack to get rid of the most complex, highly-evolved contagion ever developed outside of nature. And the solution was so easy.
After a minute of racking his slightly disoriented brain, Jack found the secluded section outside of the bazaar that he would use to destroy the contagion. The spot was just a corner with a couple of seats and some electronic brochures boasting the sights of the universe, but at the moment it was empty. Jack sat down, pulled out his pistol, and didn’t hesitate to shoot himself in the head.
He woke up in the TARDIS.
“Ah, Jack. Coming around, finally?”
Jack blinked. The Doctor was smiling down at him. He looked … proud. That was great, except Jack felt like he’d been resurrected a millennium later than expected. Groaning, Jack asked how long he’d been out.
“Oh, about three hours.” The Doctor helped Jack to his feet. “Even against your kind of healing powers, the disease was strong. I might’ve been even a little bit worried. But you pulled through, Jack. You destroyed an epidemic before it could begin!”
“Yeah, and I earned myself a hundred bucks, too.” Jack held out his hand expectantly.
The Doctor rolled his eyes. “You honestly think I’ve got pounds and Euros on me? I’m the Doctor, not the Banker. Cheer up. You’ve saved planet Earth. I’ll put a tally on your side of the board.”
Jack grinned. “I’m catching up.”
“Oh, don’t get cocky. You’re not yet two hundred. Wait ‘til you’re my age.”
The Doctor walked around to the center controls of the TARDIS and proceeded to set the course for Earth. Jack felt quite healthy. It had only taken a minute for the resurrection pains to fade. He could swear he was even younger. Perhaps he should stop a contagion from being released onto an unsuspecting population every few years or so. He laughed, recalling the robot’s reaction to discovering his species.
“Why’s it always humans?” he murmured.
“Hmm?”
“I said why is it always humans? That bazaar was full of hundreds of species he could have easily wiped out with that robot, but he made it react to humans. The more I think about it, Doc, the more I’m recognizing a trend.”
The Doctor waved him off. “Oh, you know you humans. Your curiosity is only exceeded by your ability to arm yourselves-and that’s only exceeded by your distrust of anything that doesn’t look, act, and feel like you.”
Jack matched the Doctor’s subdued smile. “Hey, now, we’re much more open-minded in the 51st century.”
The Doctor said nothing in reply, so Jack watched him flit around the TARDIS as he tried to navigate back to the very day on Earth they departed. A silence settled over the TARDIS as the Doctor worked and Jack watched. This Doctor was still quite handsome, and Jack liked that he wasn’t so thin. He reminded him of his Doctor, of number whichever with the big ears and the leather jacket. Now there was a Doctor, a dominating figure who looked like he belonged in charge. This very new Doctor was tall and most definitely in charge. Jack enjoyed watching him bend over the controls of the TARDIS.
“You know, Doc, I think I like you ginger.”
“Oh, stop it.”
“I mean it. Suits you.”
The Doctor poked at the TARDIS controls. “Many faces have.”
“So what will you do after this? Show off that new face? Pick up a new girl?”
The Doctor sighed. “Oh, I don’t know. After Donna, I think I might take a break. Did you know one can actually get tired of putting you poor humans in danger?”
“Well, you certainly haven’t lost your touch,” Jack said, smoothing the wrinkles out of his shirt. He’d been dead and unconscious for a time only matched by the aftermath of Abaddon crawling out of the rift.
“Ah, yes, but you’re no ordinary human, Jack.”
Jack grinned. “I’ve been waiting a long time to hear you say those words, Doc.”
“Oh, stop it. Here I am trying to ask you to travel with me and you have to turn it into a date!”
Jack only leered at the Doctor.
“You’re supposed to tell me your team needs you,” the Doctor said.
“Oh? And are you supposed to say okay and disappear again?”
The Doctor shoved his hands in his pockets and rolled back on his heels. “Oh, I dunno. I might put up more of a fight this time.”
“Well, I might be more willing to leave this time.”
“And your team?”
Jack smiled. “You know, it’s funny. Last time I came back, they’d figured things out for themselves. Gwen figured out how to lead the team. They weren’t perfect, but they were good. And I …” He shrugged. “I’m starting to feel like I’m needed elsewhere.”
Neither of them said anything for a while after that. Their eyes stayed locked. They read things from each other that might have been true or might have been false. Jack warmed as he mulled over the Doctor’s invitation, and the Doctor might have seen something in Jack that he thought he’d lost at the death of someone else. For a few seconds, Jack could see their future. He could see that one era of his immortal life would be spent in the company of someone who understood him and who wouldn’t get on him about his past. The Doctor had never stopped running from the schism. Jack was more than happy to run with him.
Suddenly, the Doctor snapped his fingers. “The Argent Galaxy! What d’ya say?”
Jack grinned. “I say let’s go.”
The End
Pairings/Characters: Doctor/Captain Jack Harkness
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I would love to own these characters, but sadly I do not.
Warnings: Takes place before Reset in Torchwood.
Summary: It’s been a few months since that year with the Master was erased from the minds of Earth’s population. Who knows how long it’s been for the Doctor-he’s suddenly on his eleventh regeneration-but when he needs Captain Jack to save the human race, he pays a visit to Torchwood.
Jack never stayed in his office for very long. He liked the feel of it, of course. It was legitimate. He had genuine authority when he sat up there, able to look down into the heart of the Hub at his hand-picked employees. But after traveling through time and space, even the biggest of offices made Jack claustrophobic.
This particular morning, Jack was immersed in paperwork-another downside of rejecting the Doctor’s offer to continue traveling with him. But when the coffee ran dry, Jack decided to talk to Tosh about preventing any rifts from opening up inside the Hub again. They barely had enough cells to contain the weevils that had spilled out and ransacked their equipment.
So, empty coffee mug in hand, Jack finally left his office. Good thing, too, because his team had no fewer than five pistols trained on a man in a familiar pinstripe suit. The converse shoes were gone, as was the big hair, lanky body, and large brown eyes, but Jack knew the Doctor when he saw him. That gentle arrogance-that was the biggest clue. Only the Doctor could stand, as he so often did, with his hands casually shoved in his coat pockets, his mouth set in an unworried line, and his eyes holding worlds within them, and be more welcoming than snobbish.
Or at least Jack felt welcome whenever he saw the Doctor. Others were afraid, unimpressed, or unconcerned. Most times the Doctor went unnoticed when he took casual strolls on planets or through space stations until he came across some sort of corruption built on a foundation made of toothpicks. The Doctor picked his teeth and regimes ended. He was the most famous man who had saved the world wearing multiple faces.
So, although the TARDIS was nowhere in sight from the upper deck of the Hub, Jack knew his team had cornered the Doctor. He also knew he’d die before he forced the Doctor to regenerate once more. This incarnation would not leave without Jack getting a proper feel for him-and maybe for more than his personality.
Now that he was apparently on his third Doctor, Jack decided he could very well be the first human expert on Time Lord regenerations. He could write a book on the subtle personality changes, manifested largely by the Doctor’s choice of wardrobe as well as his new body, mixed in with the stable convictions that made Jack love the Doctor no matter what he looked like.
The Doctor looked up when he saw Jack lean casually against the railing of the upper deck. Yup, those eyes held the universe within them. There was no doubt in Jack’s mind that he was staring at the Doctor.
Jack laced his fingers together and grinned. “You better watch out. You’re starting to die more frequently than I do.”
“Jack.” The Doctor nodded.
“Doctor.”
Owen looked up at Jack, back at the Doctor, and then up at Jack again. “You know him?”
“It’s his doctor,” Ianto said quietly.
The Doctor kept still in his casual, unhurried stance while Jack skipped down the stairs. Jack knew he was grinning like a lovesick idiot. The Doctor was back! The Doctor was in the Hub! The Doctor was looking for him, for Captain Jack Harkness!
Jack stopped at the end of the stairs. Of course, there could be something wrong. The Doctor had never come for him before. In fact, the Doctor consistently ran away from Jack, using the advantage of the TARDIS to flee as far as he possibly could: through time and space.
And Jack was “wrong,” at that. He wasn’t supposed to exist. He should have died and stayed dead on the game station-that the Doctor was clear about. But Rose, the human girl the Doctor had looked at with more feeling than he had at any creature, planet, or situation they’d come across, had given life to Jack. Eternal life. When Rose was lost forever, how could the Doctor look at Jack like he was a mistake?
The new Doctor, however, didn’t seem so cold. There was that gentle arrogance, yes, but the Doctor wasn’t running. He wasn’t calling Jack wrong and then asking him to travel through time and space once more with him. He wasn’t driving Jack mad with his sublime presence. He was just standing there, smirking at Jack.
So his grin returned to the Captain. He dropped all pretenses and ran at the Doctor, only stopping when he had him in a full embrace. The Doctor hugged him back, too, setting Jack on fire with emotion. No one made him happier-no one made him happier to die for a cause than the Doctor. And no one made him feel so heavy a need to protect him.
And the Doctor hugged him back. He whispered “hello” in his ear and pressed his hands into his back and shoulder and was really warm, warmer than Jack remembered him being.
Or course, when they pulled apart, there were still five guns trained on the Doctor’s new form. There were four humans who somehow knew they were dealing with Torchwood’s number one enemy and who had gained enough independence during Jack’s last rendezvous with the Doctor not to follow his lead.
Jack looked at each of them. “Put your guns down.”
“Do you know who that is, Jack?” Gwen kept her gun steady.
“Gwen, he’s not your enemy.”
“He came out of that police box over there. I’ve read up on him,” Gwen said, her gun wavering slightly under Jack’s scrutiny. “We’ve got a file, a big one, and it’s labeled … it’s not …” She put her gun away.
“Good.” Jack looked at the rest of his team. “If you read the Doctor’s file, like Gwen, you’ll know just how many times he’s saved planet Earth. And if you want a job to come back to tomorrow, I suggest you put your guns down.”
Tosh gave in immediately. Ianto followed, lowering his weapon at a snail’s pace while he refused to meet neither Jack nor the Doctor’s eyes.
Owen was the last to give in. He was the most suspicious, the most cynical of Jack’s young team, yet he was more trusting of Torchwood’s biased files than of the shunned facts within.
“You can hardly blame us, Jack,” Owen said. “He’s been Torchwood’s number one enemy since Queen Victoria was on the throne.”
The Doctor grinned and rocked back on his heels at the memory. He still retained the more playful aspects of his previous reincarnation. In fact, judging by the tightness of the suit he wore, which the Doctor was attempting to hide with his trench coat, Jack suspected he may have regenerated so recently he hadn’t found time to choose a new outfit let alone figure out this reincarnation’s quirks. His converse shoes, however, were replaced by white running trainers worn ragged.
The Doctor caught Jack looking. “Ah, yes, those,” he said. “Had to borrow them off a friend.”
“What happened?” Jack knew the Doctor would hear his unspoken question.
“End of the world stuff.” The Doctor shrugged. “Didn’t go quite as expected, mind you. That’s why I’ve got this lovely new face. Have you a mirror, by any chance? Not quite sure how lovely this new face is.”
Jack resisted the urge to break out into peels of laughter. “Color me surprised, Doctor. I never thought you’d save the world and then come back here just to get my opinion on your makeover-or my mirror’s opinion.”
“Oi, you better not be holding any Reflecticainians hostage, Captain. Ran into a family of those few weeks back. Glued to the walls of a smuggling ship, can you believe it?”
“They must have been pretty vain smugglers.”
The Doctor murmured something at his worn shoes. Then he looked up at Jack, smiling like the tenth Doctor, whose face would fade slowly from Jack’s mind. Though Jack could see the Doctor through his regenerations, it had taken more than a trip to the end of the universe to get used to his new face. Jack was faced with the task yet again.
“You’re not so bad, Doctor,” he said, pointing in the general direction of the Doctor’s head.
The Doctor’s eyes widened. “Am I ginger? I’ve always wanted to be ginger.”
Jack smiled. “Yup. You’ve got a full head of nice, red hair.”
The Doctor immediately ran his hands through his hair, probably wondering what shade of ginger. Jack wouldn’t tell him he wasn’t copper or fiery. He was more of a burnt red, a shade away from auburn. His nose was straighter than his last incarnation, but not as thin. His eyes were wider, too, and hazel.
“You’ve filled out nicely,” Jack said, leering at the Doctor, who was still much too preoccupied with his hair to notice.
“Ginger,” he sighed happily. Then he straightened up and looked seriously at Jack.
“Nearly forgot what I came here for,” he said.
“To use my mirror?”
“No, no, no. To take advantage of your unique abilities.” The Doctor paused suddenly, his eyes glued to something just over Jack’s shoulder. “Oh, that didn’t sound right, did it?”
“My abilities, huh? And which ones might those be?”
“Well, first off,” the Doctor said as he wound his way over to the vault where Torchwood kept their many rift-salvaged and peculiar alien objects, “we’re going to need some supplies. You’ve got something of mine, Captain.”
“Doctor, if you want the key to the TARDIS back …”
“Oh, stop it.”
The Doctor whipped out his sonic screwdriver from his too-tight suit and pointed it at the vault, which opened in a pathetically short amount of time. Then the Doctor retrieved an object about two inches thick and shaped like a five-pointed star.
“Here we go. Aren’t you a beauty?”
Jack watched the Doctor admire an object that Toshiko had spent a full week trying to get a reaction from but had failed miserably. Trust the Doctor to know not just the object’s inner workings, but that it was locked up at Torchwood Three-just like something else he needed.
“Doctor, this ability of mine-it wouldn’t be dying and coming back to life, would it? ‘Cause I think I had enough of that trying to get a certain bunch of future toclafane to ‘Utopia.’ And then there was that year with the-” Jack stopped when he saw the Doctor’s face turn not quite sour. More morose. He was thinking of the Master. He was mourning the Time Lord who had used Jack’s certain special ability to torture him for a full year. Mourning the last of the Time Lords with his two hearts and twelve regenerations, his laser screwdriver, and his love-hate relationship with the Doctor. And there stood Jack Harkness with his sonic blaster locked away in storage.
Jack sighed. “I’m there. Whatever you need me for, Doctor.”
“Jack! You can’t just leave us again,” said Gwen. “We went all the way to the Himalayas looking for you. You can’t-”
“Yeah, well now you’ll know I’m with the Doctor.”
Jack looked at each member of his team, though it stung to see Ianto’s hurt expression the most. It was so blatantly plastered across his face. He wouldn’t try to hide it, not from Jack. But it wouldn’t make the Captain stay.
“You’re remarkable people, all of you,” he told his team. “You’re perfectly capable of doing this job without me-”
“That’s not true, Jack,” said Gwen.
“You can manage without me.” Jack glanced at the Doctor, who had resumed looking aloof and imposing over by the TARDIS. “And I won’t be gone long.”
No one said much after that. Jack was still their leader, and if he made so clear a decision, they would follow it. Jack was free to go to the Doctor, to step into the TARDIS once more and travel through time and space without being pulled apart inside by his vortex manipulator. The TARDIS was the smoothest ride in the universe-and she missed him even through her fear of what he’d become because of her.
In the doorway of the TARDIS, Jack turned around and tried to look as daunting as the Doctor. “Gwen, you’re in charge. I shouldn’t need to say this,” he said to everyone before punctuating his last six words with strong pauses, “but don’t play with the rift.”
It took only a minute to leave the Hub. The Doctor ran around the central controls of the TARDIS just like his previous two regenerations, which brightened Jack’s mood. He’d have to remind the Doctor to find a new outfit, though. Some buttons were dangerously close to turning into projectile weapons. This regeneration, he figured, was physically built somewhere between the previous two.
The Doctor changed while they traveled to the unknown destination where Jack would have to give his life (maybe more than once) to solve the Doctor’s problem. He thought it might have been the Doctor’s fault in the first place, as it was easy to mistake the problems the Doctor frequently encountered as results of his overabundant curiosity, his pure cheek. Whatever the case, Jack would do it, and when he complained about it, he wouldn’t mean it.
But to prepare himself, Jack spent some time with the TARDIS while it traveled. He ran his fingers lightly over its controls. He gripped the stronger parts of it. It hummed, pleased to have him back.
“Yeah, I remember our time together. Fixing you up, all those times we messed around with your engine.” The TARDIS sparked him. It was light, playful like the Doctor could be when he wasn’t bothered by some apocalypse. Jack laughed.
“If you’re done molesting my ship, Captain,” said the Doctor after clearing his throat, “we could go now.”
Jack looked him over. “Another suit, Doctor?”
“I prefer them.”
“Yeah, but people in the 21st century usually wear dress shirts underneath.” Jack pointed to his own ensemble. He wore a baby blue dress shirt, braces, nice gray trousers, and his thick, warm greatcoat. Underneath his dark gray suit coat, the Doctor wore what Jack was positive was a t-shirt. It was stylized, but it was a t-shirt nonetheless.
“Not always,” the Doctor protested.
“It’s unprofessional.”
“You’re supposed to say you love it.”
“Well, you’re ginger now. You can’t go running around wearing just anything you want.”
“Oh, do shut up,” the Doctor said, but he seemed to accept Jack’s critique and he started tinkering with the TARDIS, which was now slowly drifting through space. Jack watched him until the Doctor spoke again.
“You seem to have a talent, Jack.”
“You mean dying and coming back to life? Yeah, it’s the finale of my act.”
“No, not that. I mean recognizing me. Rose was the typical human. Thought I was a completely different person just because my face changed. It took her a while to get used to me, but you. You saw me right away. Both times.” The Doctor frowned. Jack couldn’t help but laugh.
“Doctor, you’ve got quirks. But I think I know what you’re really wondering about.” Jack made his way over to the Doctor, who raised his eyebrows at the suggestion that he was being dishonest. Jack stopped a good foot from him. When he set his hand next to the controls of the TARDIS, she sparked him with more intensity. She was so connected with the Doctor. Jack could almost feel him through her.
“You’re wondering how I can see through you, and not in that superficial way where I can tell you’re the Doctor even though you’ve got a bigger nose and redder hair. It’s how I don’t even flinch, isn’t it?” Jack stepped even closer to the Doctor. He could hear him breathing. Two hearts, pumping alien blood. It never occurred to Jack how ironic his job was.
“Jack.”
“I think it scares you that I can spot you from across a room. How’s it feel to be the universe’s most infamous savior? Better than being the universe’s most famous, am I right?”
The Doctor stepped away from Jack and the TARDIS. “Caught onto something, have you?”
“You’re not the Master yearning to rule all life. You knew if Martha succeeded in telling Earth about you, we could destroy the paradox machine and no one would remember your name.”
“Oh, that’s not … UNIT’s perfectly aware of my existence. Torchwood doesn’t seem too happy about it, but there you all are, knowing about Time Lords and TARDISes.”
“Queen Victoria called you a threat. She was prejudiced against you because you’re not human.”
Jack-”
“But you’ve saved the world so many times.” Jack laughed. “You make me look like an amateur. But you disappear before cleanup begins. You take no credit. You want to stay unknown, Doctor.”
“Of course I do. Makes my life easier, doesn’t it? I’m a traveler. I haven’t got a job. All I do is drift through time and space with clumsy apes like you until inevitably we stumble across all life ending.” The Doctor shrugged. “Why shouldn’t I right it? History books, Jack, should be kept clean of my name.”
Jack nodded. “Yeah, but I’m not some kid sitting in a classroom on the Boeshane Peninsula learning about all the times crisis was mysteriously averted.” He waited for the Doctor to say something to that, maybe lie and claim Jack was still a kid who was ignorant of the fixed way life worked. What was 150 odd years to a 903-year-old Time Lord anyway? Maybe Jack was still a kid, a wide-eyed child in the face of the Doctor.
The Doctor stayed quiet for a minute. Having nothing else to say, Jack turned away and crossed his arms. He wondered briefly what would happen if he marched over to the doors of the TARDIS and flung them open. What did it matter?
“I should trust you more,” the Doctor said finally. “Or I shouldn’t. You’re the only human to have part of the TARDIS inside him. You’re a fixed point, an ex-Time Agent, the leader of Torchwood Three.” Jack turned back to find the Doctor staring at him. “But I should trust you more.”
“I’ve died for you, Doctor, and I’d do it again.”
The TARDIS suddenly jolted the two about as it settled at its destination. No more time for a soul-searching conversation, Jack realized with faint disappointment. Time to save the world. Which world Jack wasn’t quite sure.
“Ah, here we are.” The Doctor skipped over to the doors of the TARDIS, but turned around to face Jack before opening them. “Ready?”
Jack forced his smile into a grin. “Always.”
***
Jack closed his eyes. One … two … three. No, still there. Damn.
Don’t worry. That’s what the Doctor had said. Keep your chin up and your eyes open. Don’t forget that Harkness charm.
Jack made his way through a giant throng of diverse alien species, which had congregated in the small but open space to exchange goods and services. It was the Arabian market of the future. Rich, brilliantly detailed fabrics were draped over cold metal technology. Hand-made, earth-toned objects stood out from the blue lights of the credit-reading machines.
Jack ran his hand over a square object with a chameleon circuit that allowed it to blend into the home of any alien species no matter how harsh or strangely decorated the environment. Jack had seen them before. They eliminated allergies from the home. On Earth, they would allow people to have cats and dogs as indoor pets. His grandmother had kept one ever since Jack could remember. She’d claimed it was so that he and Gray could visit her, and Jack had convinced his little brother that she turned it off when Jack went to see her without him. He could remember that. So much he’d lost, but that he’d managed to hold onto.
Gently moving people out of the way, Jack sifted through the bazaar until he located his target. The being was humanoid as far as Jack could tell; it was covered head-to-toe in thick, black fabric. Not even its eyes shone through.
Jack stopped at a kiosk selling jewelry that allowed the wearer to manipulate their own emotions. Beads to lie. Jack didn’t need them.
From the kiosk, he observed his target. He watched it stand completely still. No one touched it, but they seemed completely unaware that something about it softly pushed them away. To anyone besides Jack, his target was pushed around as much as everyone else shopping in the crowded bazaar. But no one attempted to truly get close.
Jack looked at his wrist strap. Five seconds to go time. The Doctor would give him a hundred bucks if he could pull this off in less than five minutes. So Jack was gonna do it in three.
“Hi,” he said, the perfect picture of sugary cheer. His target’s eyes, possibly, swiveled toward him and glared.
Jack cocked his head, keeping his sexy grin. “Come here often?”
His target didn’t answer.
“Oh, the silent type. I like that. Tall, dark, and silent. Great combination.” Jack leaned in and his target stiffened. “I bet I can change that.”
Still his target was silent.
“You know, I’ve got a ship just around the corner. Nice and private. Or, you know, this place has its nooks and crannies. I’ve never been much of a private person.” Jack bit his lip, thinking of the hundred dollar bill slithering out of sight with every second his target stood rigid and mute. But right then, his target cocked his head and seemed to finally see Jack.
“Security Protocol: One. State your species.”
“Oh, a robot!” Jack grinned. “Well, that’s never stopped me. Tell me, stranger, have you ever been with a human?”
“Species confirmed: human being. Native planet: Earth. Initiate: Master Plan.”
“Well, see that’s what I like to hear. I’m not much for the master thing, but it’s been a while-” Jack cut off as his trachea was nearly reduced to the size of a straw. The robot hummed, its hand wrapped around Jack’s neck. The alien shoppers around them noticed, but not one stepped up to help. They scurried around the two, heading for crowds they could blend into and hide their guilt.
But not ten seconds later, Jack was released. The robot initiated protocol such-and-such and ceased to function. The master plan had been put into action. Unfortunately for the master planner, Jack knew just what to do.
There were no other humans in the bazaar, which was how the Doctor had been able to take the time to retrieve Jack. The newest regeneration was currently preoccupied with shutting down the master planner by somehow using his five-pointed star contraption, so it was up to Jack to get rid of the most complex, highly-evolved contagion ever developed outside of nature. And the solution was so easy.
After a minute of racking his slightly disoriented brain, Jack found the secluded section outside of the bazaar that he would use to destroy the contagion. The spot was just a corner with a couple of seats and some electronic brochures boasting the sights of the universe, but at the moment it was empty. Jack sat down, pulled out his pistol, and didn’t hesitate to shoot himself in the head.
He woke up in the TARDIS.
“Ah, Jack. Coming around, finally?”
Jack blinked. The Doctor was smiling down at him. He looked … proud. That was great, except Jack felt like he’d been resurrected a millennium later than expected. Groaning, Jack asked how long he’d been out.
“Oh, about three hours.” The Doctor helped Jack to his feet. “Even against your kind of healing powers, the disease was strong. I might’ve been even a little bit worried. But you pulled through, Jack. You destroyed an epidemic before it could begin!”
“Yeah, and I earned myself a hundred bucks, too.” Jack held out his hand expectantly.
The Doctor rolled his eyes. “You honestly think I’ve got pounds and Euros on me? I’m the Doctor, not the Banker. Cheer up. You’ve saved planet Earth. I’ll put a tally on your side of the board.”
Jack grinned. “I’m catching up.”
“Oh, don’t get cocky. You’re not yet two hundred. Wait ‘til you’re my age.”
The Doctor walked around to the center controls of the TARDIS and proceeded to set the course for Earth. Jack felt quite healthy. It had only taken a minute for the resurrection pains to fade. He could swear he was even younger. Perhaps he should stop a contagion from being released onto an unsuspecting population every few years or so. He laughed, recalling the robot’s reaction to discovering his species.
“Why’s it always humans?” he murmured.
“Hmm?”
“I said why is it always humans? That bazaar was full of hundreds of species he could have easily wiped out with that robot, but he made it react to humans. The more I think about it, Doc, the more I’m recognizing a trend.”
The Doctor waved him off. “Oh, you know you humans. Your curiosity is only exceeded by your ability to arm yourselves-and that’s only exceeded by your distrust of anything that doesn’t look, act, and feel like you.”
Jack matched the Doctor’s subdued smile. “Hey, now, we’re much more open-minded in the 51st century.”
The Doctor said nothing in reply, so Jack watched him flit around the TARDIS as he tried to navigate back to the very day on Earth they departed. A silence settled over the TARDIS as the Doctor worked and Jack watched. This Doctor was still quite handsome, and Jack liked that he wasn’t so thin. He reminded him of his Doctor, of number whichever with the big ears and the leather jacket. Now there was a Doctor, a dominating figure who looked like he belonged in charge. This very new Doctor was tall and most definitely in charge. Jack enjoyed watching him bend over the controls of the TARDIS.
“You know, Doc, I think I like you ginger.”
“Oh, stop it.”
“I mean it. Suits you.”
The Doctor poked at the TARDIS controls. “Many faces have.”
“So what will you do after this? Show off that new face? Pick up a new girl?”
The Doctor sighed. “Oh, I don’t know. After Donna, I think I might take a break. Did you know one can actually get tired of putting you poor humans in danger?”
“Well, you certainly haven’t lost your touch,” Jack said, smoothing the wrinkles out of his shirt. He’d been dead and unconscious for a time only matched by the aftermath of Abaddon crawling out of the rift.
“Ah, yes, but you’re no ordinary human, Jack.”
Jack grinned. “I’ve been waiting a long time to hear you say those words, Doc.”
“Oh, stop it. Here I am trying to ask you to travel with me and you have to turn it into a date!”
Jack only leered at the Doctor.
“You’re supposed to tell me your team needs you,” the Doctor said.
“Oh? And are you supposed to say okay and disappear again?”
The Doctor shoved his hands in his pockets and rolled back on his heels. “Oh, I dunno. I might put up more of a fight this time.”
“Well, I might be more willing to leave this time.”
“And your team?”
Jack smiled. “You know, it’s funny. Last time I came back, they’d figured things out for themselves. Gwen figured out how to lead the team. They weren’t perfect, but they were good. And I …” He shrugged. “I’m starting to feel like I’m needed elsewhere.”
Neither of them said anything for a while after that. Their eyes stayed locked. They read things from each other that might have been true or might have been false. Jack warmed as he mulled over the Doctor’s invitation, and the Doctor might have seen something in Jack that he thought he’d lost at the death of someone else. For a few seconds, Jack could see their future. He could see that one era of his immortal life would be spent in the company of someone who understood him and who wouldn’t get on him about his past. The Doctor had never stopped running from the schism. Jack was more than happy to run with him.
Suddenly, the Doctor snapped his fingers. “The Argent Galaxy! What d’ya say?”
Jack grinned. “I say let’s go.”
The End