A Few Small Repairs (Nine/Jack, PG)
Title: A Few Small Repairs
Author: sonatine_fic
Pairing: Nine/Jack
Rating: PG
Wordcount: ~400
Disclaimer: Intellectually, RTD and BBC own them, but really, they belong to the fans.
Spoilers: "The Doctor Dances" but not really.
Summary: Jack is fascinated with how the Doctor interacts with the ship--the TARDIS, he calls it.
Note: Done for the infosharing challenge at wintercompanion. Set between "The Doctor Dances" and "Boomtown."
"If I were to tell you what I'm doing to the controls of my frankly magnificent timeship, would you even begin to understand?"
-Boomtown
Jack is fascinated with how the Doctor interacts with the ship--the TARDIS, he calls it. He treats it like it's alive, talking to it as naturally as he would to Rose or Jack. Just today, he's observed the Doctor curse at it in five different languages that haven't been invented yet (banging on the console with the mallet the entire time) and then almost as quickly, apologize for being cross, stroking the trim like a lover seeking forgiveness. (Jack watches the other man's fingers across the metal and tries to ignore the way his breath seems to hitch whenever the Doctor's around.)
The TARDIS (almost petulantly, he thinks) rebuffs the Doctor's overture, machinery clattering out in a shower of sparks. The Doctor sighs and removes a section of grate under the console, easing himself into the tangle of parts and wires like he's been doing it for all his life. For all Jack knows, he has been.
The Doctor is trying to push an unwieldy metal cylinder back into place while attempting to secure it with the sonic screwdriver. Under the mechanical hum Jack hears soft murmuring coming from under the floor, soothing and encouraging. He doesn't know what compels him, but he walks over to where the Doctor is lying, and holds the part for him. Their hands brush in passing, and Jack stifles a gasp. (Barely.) When he touches the metal, he feels a little nudge in his mind, something that reminds of when his father came home with a kitten, delight and anticipation and maybe a little bit of love. The Doctor smiles, unguarded and brilliant, at the look on his face, and Jack wonders what kind of connection he and the ship really have.
"She likes you. She doesn't like that many people." As if in response, the feeling gets stronger, and Jack swears he's being given a mental scritch. "That means you can help me repair the neutron flow polarizer. Come on, toss me that spanner and I'll show you how it works."
Jack retrieves the tool and gives it to the Doctor, letting his fingers trail along the other man's palm, just a little bit. Later, covered in sweat and smudged with grease, he feels like he's been thoroughly educated. There's a faint trace of laughter in his head, and knows the ship--she--thinks so too.
Author: sonatine_fic
Pairing: Nine/Jack
Rating: PG
Wordcount: ~400
Disclaimer: Intellectually, RTD and BBC own them, but really, they belong to the fans.
Spoilers: "The Doctor Dances" but not really.
Summary: Jack is fascinated with how the Doctor interacts with the ship--the TARDIS, he calls it.
Note: Done for the infosharing challenge at wintercompanion. Set between "The Doctor Dances" and "Boomtown."
"If I were to tell you what I'm doing to the controls of my frankly magnificent timeship, would you even begin to understand?"
-Boomtown
Jack is fascinated with how the Doctor interacts with the ship--the TARDIS, he calls it. He treats it like it's alive, talking to it as naturally as he would to Rose or Jack. Just today, he's observed the Doctor curse at it in five different languages that haven't been invented yet (banging on the console with the mallet the entire time) and then almost as quickly, apologize for being cross, stroking the trim like a lover seeking forgiveness. (Jack watches the other man's fingers across the metal and tries to ignore the way his breath seems to hitch whenever the Doctor's around.)
The TARDIS (almost petulantly, he thinks) rebuffs the Doctor's overture, machinery clattering out in a shower of sparks. The Doctor sighs and removes a section of grate under the console, easing himself into the tangle of parts and wires like he's been doing it for all his life. For all Jack knows, he has been.
The Doctor is trying to push an unwieldy metal cylinder back into place while attempting to secure it with the sonic screwdriver. Under the mechanical hum Jack hears soft murmuring coming from under the floor, soothing and encouraging. He doesn't know what compels him, but he walks over to where the Doctor is lying, and holds the part for him. Their hands brush in passing, and Jack stifles a gasp. (Barely.) When he touches the metal, he feels a little nudge in his mind, something that reminds of when his father came home with a kitten, delight and anticipation and maybe a little bit of love. The Doctor smiles, unguarded and brilliant, at the look on his face, and Jack wonders what kind of connection he and the ship really have.
"She likes you. She doesn't like that many people." As if in response, the feeling gets stronger, and Jack swears he's being given a mental scritch. "That means you can help me repair the neutron flow polarizer. Come on, toss me that spanner and I'll show you how it works."
Jack retrieves the tool and gives it to the Doctor, letting his fingers trail along the other man's palm, just a little bit. Later, covered in sweat and smudged with grease, he feels like he's been thoroughly educated. There's a faint trace of laughter in his head, and knows the ship--she--thinks so too.