Fic: Moments
Title: Moments
Author: starfirefic
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Ten, Jack, Martha
Word Count: ~480 words
Genre: Ummm... is there such thing as fluffy angst? With side order of humour?
Rating: PG13 for mentions of sex
Author's Notes:Written for one of the Doctor Who Challenge #9 prompts - "What did your last slave die of?" Set at the end of s3, in a very slight AU in which Jack and Martha decide to Tardis-hop for just a bit before they go on to their respective roles back on Earth
Spoilers: None really unless you count Jack being in it in the first place
Summary: He loves them for the moments they leave him with
Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me. Nor, unfortunately, does the Tardis, You can guarantee if it did, my LJ posts would be a lot more interesting
Warnings: None, other than that it's unbeta-ed (although I'm a proof reader by trade, so it shouldn't be *too* bad; but still, if you find the inevitable typo I missed, feel free to ping me!)
Moments
“You know,” Jack said, in the intensely serious tones of someone about to impart the kind of state secret that would topple interplanetary empires if it reached the wrong ears, “It’s a little known fact that no matter how many galaxies you travel, no matter how far back in time you jump, and no matter what blends of secret herbs and spices you add to the mix… coffee never tastes half as good when you have to make it yourself.”
“Excuse me, Mister,” Martha turned away from the cupboards she’d been rifling through in her quest to discover where the Doctor had last put away the sugar, amusement and disgust fighting an equally matched battle across the field of her features. “Are you asking me to make your coffee for you? What exactly did your last slave die of?”
“An acute overload of sexual bliss.” Jack shot back promptly, at exactly the same time the Doctor groaned out, “Ohhhhhhh, you just had to go and ask, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, I misjudged, and the pleasure shorted out his brain.” Jack’s eyes twinkled merrily as he got into the spirit of the story. “But it was OK…” he continued in a tone that was probably meant to be reassuring, “I revived him right away. Then I freed him to apologise for the inconvenience; and we went on to have a long and happy relationship based on deep, meaningful conversations, a shared interest in Cortavellian opera, and drawn-out, sweaty sessions of intensely kinky sex.” He waggled his eyebrows lecherously at her. “Could happen for you too if you took pity on a poor caffeine-deprived time traveller…”
“Selling your body for a cup of coffee, Jack? I’ll never tell people you’re cheap again…” the Doctor rolled his eyes, but couldn’t… quite… keep the smile out of his voice, as he drank in the laughter and and the flirting and the sheer *human-ness* of it all.
They weren’t going to stay with him - he knew that. Neither one of them had it in them to stay, any more than he had it in him to give either of them what they really wanted from him. So it was only fair for him to let them go, despite knowing just how much it was going to hurt when they left.
But that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy these wonderful, beautiful, magical moments they created around him, just by being who they were, until then. Didn’t mean he couldn’t soak in the feelings, letting them fill him up in the here and now. Didn’t mean he couldn’t record these spontaneous scenes of theirs in his mind, storing the memories away like precious jewels to watch through again later when the cold and the dark and the emptiness were once more all he had to keep him company.
He was a Timelord, after all. He'd had centuries to get used to it.
Author: starfirefic
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Ten, Jack, Martha
Word Count: ~480 words
Genre: Ummm... is there such thing as fluffy angst? With side order of humour?
Rating: PG13 for mentions of sex
Author's Notes:Written for one of the Doctor Who Challenge #9 prompts - "What did your last slave die of?" Set at the end of s3, in a very slight AU in which Jack and Martha decide to Tardis-hop for just a bit before they go on to their respective roles back on Earth
Spoilers: None really unless you count Jack being in it in the first place
Summary: He loves them for the moments they leave him with
Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me. Nor, unfortunately, does the Tardis, You can guarantee if it did, my LJ posts would be a lot more interesting
Warnings: None, other than that it's unbeta-ed (although I'm a proof reader by trade, so it shouldn't be *too* bad; but still, if you find the inevitable typo I missed, feel free to ping me!)
Moments
“You know,” Jack said, in the intensely serious tones of someone about to impart the kind of state secret that would topple interplanetary empires if it reached the wrong ears, “It’s a little known fact that no matter how many galaxies you travel, no matter how far back in time you jump, and no matter what blends of secret herbs and spices you add to the mix… coffee never tastes half as good when you have to make it yourself.”
“Excuse me, Mister,” Martha turned away from the cupboards she’d been rifling through in her quest to discover where the Doctor had last put away the sugar, amusement and disgust fighting an equally matched battle across the field of her features. “Are you asking me to make your coffee for you? What exactly did your last slave die of?”
“An acute overload of sexual bliss.” Jack shot back promptly, at exactly the same time the Doctor groaned out, “Ohhhhhhh, you just had to go and ask, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, I misjudged, and the pleasure shorted out his brain.” Jack’s eyes twinkled merrily as he got into the spirit of the story. “But it was OK…” he continued in a tone that was probably meant to be reassuring, “I revived him right away. Then I freed him to apologise for the inconvenience; and we went on to have a long and happy relationship based on deep, meaningful conversations, a shared interest in Cortavellian opera, and drawn-out, sweaty sessions of intensely kinky sex.” He waggled his eyebrows lecherously at her. “Could happen for you too if you took pity on a poor caffeine-deprived time traveller…”
“Selling your body for a cup of coffee, Jack? I’ll never tell people you’re cheap again…” the Doctor rolled his eyes, but couldn’t… quite… keep the smile out of his voice, as he drank in the laughter and and the flirting and the sheer *human-ness* of it all.
They weren’t going to stay with him - he knew that. Neither one of them had it in them to stay, any more than he had it in him to give either of them what they really wanted from him. So it was only fair for him to let them go, despite knowing just how much it was going to hurt when they left.
But that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy these wonderful, beautiful, magical moments they created around him, just by being who they were, until then. Didn’t mean he couldn’t soak in the feelings, letting them fill him up in the here and now. Didn’t mean he couldn’t record these spontaneous scenes of theirs in his mind, storing the memories away like precious jewels to watch through again later when the cold and the dark and the emptiness were once more all he had to keep him company.
He was a Timelord, after all. He'd had centuries to get used to it.