(no subject)
Title: incongruities 2/4?
Author: christn7
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairing: Alt!verse Jack & Rose
Author's notes: For allfireburns for the Jack/Rose Winter Ficathon over at available_very. The prompt will follow at the end of the story.
Many thanks are owed to both dark_aegis and wendymr. :)
Summary: She leans into him, her breath sweet with indulgence, and he finds himself laughing with her. He's surprised when, more often than not, it’s genuine. She’s funny, and she’s cute and he likes her despite that she is, he thinks, more than just another piece in the puzzle.
--
incongruities 2
--
The club is crowded, but he finds her easily enough. She’s standing alone, leaning up against the bar and he knows this’ll be easy.
He’s used it a thousand times before to get closer to a subject - charm, flirtation, sex. He knows this dance, knows all the moves and, more than that, he’s good at it.
“Buy you a drink?” he offers, leaning into her space.
She turns, startled, and he smiles. She relaxes, finally, and grins back. “Thanks, Jack.”
He calls out to the bartender, orders her drink and another for himself and her hip bumps his. “How’d you know my favourite drink?”
“I asked,” he says, winking at her. “You here alone?”
She nods and he takes her hand, leading her deeper into the club. They dance and they laugh and he buys her drinks, one after the other, until, when they move, she’s loose in his arms and warm against his body.
She leans into him, her breath sweet with indulgence and he finds himself laughing with her. He's surprised when, more often than not, it’s genuine. She’s funny, and she’s cute and he likes her despite that she is, he thinks, more than just another piece in the puzzle.
She’s as much as told him so without realising, all those little comments slipping through in the conversation that, alone, mean nothing, but together could well be a confession of guilt. He knows she’s hiding something, at the very least.
It’s easy to win her trust, to win her over, and that’s what he wanted, of course, but when she offers to take him back to her place something in him refuses.
He knows this game, he’s a master of it, but he’s not sure he wants to play anymore.
--
She looks so small behind the glass of the holding cell. So impossibly small - fragile, he’d say, even though he knows her not to be.
It was part of the job description, he knew that when he signed up, and he’s seen a lot of horrors in his time, but this - this is something different. He didn’t believe it at first - couldn’t believe it - all that destruction, all that devastation, and he’d only caught a hint of it.
It’s still hard for him to believe - that she could be the cause of it all. It still doesn’t make sense that all that devastation could be tracked back to one tiny human shell. One small woman who wasn’t meant to be.
She looks innocent enough, though, and there’s a part of him that wants to believe she is, even after everything he’s seen.
He thinks that might be what scares him the most.
He saw it, watched it happening with his own eyes, and he’d been too shocked - amazed - to do anything about it. The Sycorax. The Slitheen. And he let it happen.
Rose Tyler, the woman who shouldn’t exist.
The monitor behind him beeps, the scan completed, and he turns to check the results.
Human, yes, but so much more.
--
She’s done it.
He doesn’t know how, but she’s done it - the Sycorax ship is retreating and she - she’s the only variable.
Everyone who stepped aboard that ship was meant to die, including President Jones, but there they are, standing on the sidewalk in front of him, completely unharmed.
There are cheers, people are embracing all around and he remembers to smile as she looks at him. How he does, though, is beyond him.
She throws herself at him and he catches her, much like that first day, only this time he expected it. She holds him tightly, something more than relief in her embrace and, when she tries to pull away, his arms tighten around her. She leans back into him instead and he buries his face in her hair.
She’s alive, and he’s relieved, but he shouldn’t be.
It’s her.
It’s impossible, but it has to be her.
--
She’s starting to wake.
“Who are you?” he asks, flipping on the flood lights and aiming them in her face. A primitive technique, yes, but it’ll have to do until he gets more of his ship in working condition.
She squints at him, disorientated. “Jack?”
He’s just a shadow to her, he knows. “Answer the question.”
She tenses, eyes darting around to take in the cell. “What’s going on?”
“Stop playing with me,” he says, the results of the scan a sharp reminder in his mind. “Where are you from?”
Her voice is steady, but he knows her well enough by now to pick what’s beneath it. “It’s Rose, Jack - you know who I am.”
“That’s not my name,” he snaps. “I’ve never been assigned the name ‘Jack’.”
She shakes her head, squinting into the light. “What do you mean, ‘assigned the name Jack’?”
He ignores her question and presses her again. “Who are you? My scans show that you’re human, mostly, but beyond that...”
Something in her changes, there’s a flash of realisation and she grows hard. “Rose Tyler,” she says, chin tilting up in defiance. “I’m Rose Tyler.”
He sighs. He’d hoped, despite all he’d seen, that she was innocent - an innocent pawn in a game bigger than she understood.
He’d wanted her to be innocent.
“Rose Tyler doesn’t exist,” he retorts. “I’ve never seen anything so well integrated - you were hard to spot, I’ll give you that, but you don’t exist. You weren’t born, never died - up until a few years ago there was no trace of you. You came from nowhere, and nothing comes from nowhere.”
“Through nowhere,” she mutters, her eyes distant.
“You don’t belong here.” He claps his hands to get her attention. “Where do you come from?”
“Wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” she says, drawing her knees to her chest.
“You’re not helping yourself,” he says, trying to make his voice soothing. “I only want to help you, Rose - you have to tell me before I can help you.”
She laughs. “You always were a good liar, Jack.
“Are you still working for them, then?” She frowns into the light - eerily, right at him. “You must be, right? This isn’t a Chula ship.”
A cold finger creeps up his spine and he moves out of her line of sight. “Where did you come from?”
Her eyes follow him. “The Time Agency, right? Why else would you be here?”
He steps forward, into the light. “Who are you?”
“You can’t trust them,” she says, so much force in such a small voice. “They’ll take everything from you, even your memories, and they’ll leave you for dead.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, and he’s surprised to find himself hesitating. He wants to believe her, he does, but how can he?
“I know you, Jack. At least, I did... or, I will. And I know what they’ll do to you, I’ve seen the future. You can’t trust them.”
“And who should I trust? You?”
“No,” she says, the determination draining out of her. “I’ll do the same.”
--
Sometimes she looks at him with such sadness in her eyes. As if she knows - as if she knows everything.
He doesn’t want to believe it, though. Not her.
No, he doesn’t think she realises - but there’s something about her, something about the light that flickers in her eyes that makes him think that, even if she did, she wouldn’t stop.
Still, he wants her to be innocent, this girl he can laugh with. If only she doesn’t know, he thinks, if only she were a result of the anomaly, not the cause of it...
If only he didn’t have to stop her, but he’s seen the future, and it’s murder.
He wants to save her, but he fears that she’s no damsel in distress.
--
TBC...
Chapters:
chapter one
chapter two
chapter three
Author: christn7
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairing: Alt!verse Jack & Rose
Author's notes: For allfireburns for the Jack/Rose Winter Ficathon over at available_very. The prompt will follow at the end of the story.
Many thanks are owed to both dark_aegis and wendymr. :)
Summary: She leans into him, her breath sweet with indulgence, and he finds himself laughing with her. He's surprised when, more often than not, it’s genuine. She’s funny, and she’s cute and he likes her despite that she is, he thinks, more than just another piece in the puzzle.
--
incongruities 2
--
The club is crowded, but he finds her easily enough. She’s standing alone, leaning up against the bar and he knows this’ll be easy.
He’s used it a thousand times before to get closer to a subject - charm, flirtation, sex. He knows this dance, knows all the moves and, more than that, he’s good at it.
“Buy you a drink?” he offers, leaning into her space.
She turns, startled, and he smiles. She relaxes, finally, and grins back. “Thanks, Jack.”
He calls out to the bartender, orders her drink and another for himself and her hip bumps his. “How’d you know my favourite drink?”
“I asked,” he says, winking at her. “You here alone?”
She nods and he takes her hand, leading her deeper into the club. They dance and they laugh and he buys her drinks, one after the other, until, when they move, she’s loose in his arms and warm against his body.
She leans into him, her breath sweet with indulgence and he finds himself laughing with her. He's surprised when, more often than not, it’s genuine. She’s funny, and she’s cute and he likes her despite that she is, he thinks, more than just another piece in the puzzle.
She’s as much as told him so without realising, all those little comments slipping through in the conversation that, alone, mean nothing, but together could well be a confession of guilt. He knows she’s hiding something, at the very least.
It’s easy to win her trust, to win her over, and that’s what he wanted, of course, but when she offers to take him back to her place something in him refuses.
He knows this game, he’s a master of it, but he’s not sure he wants to play anymore.
--
She looks so small behind the glass of the holding cell. So impossibly small - fragile, he’d say, even though he knows her not to be.
It was part of the job description, he knew that when he signed up, and he’s seen a lot of horrors in his time, but this - this is something different. He didn’t believe it at first - couldn’t believe it - all that destruction, all that devastation, and he’d only caught a hint of it.
It’s still hard for him to believe - that she could be the cause of it all. It still doesn’t make sense that all that devastation could be tracked back to one tiny human shell. One small woman who wasn’t meant to be.
She looks innocent enough, though, and there’s a part of him that wants to believe she is, even after everything he’s seen.
He thinks that might be what scares him the most.
He saw it, watched it happening with his own eyes, and he’d been too shocked - amazed - to do anything about it. The Sycorax. The Slitheen. And he let it happen.
Rose Tyler, the woman who shouldn’t exist.
The monitor behind him beeps, the scan completed, and he turns to check the results.
Human, yes, but so much more.
--
She’s done it.
He doesn’t know how, but she’s done it - the Sycorax ship is retreating and she - she’s the only variable.
Everyone who stepped aboard that ship was meant to die, including President Jones, but there they are, standing on the sidewalk in front of him, completely unharmed.
There are cheers, people are embracing all around and he remembers to smile as she looks at him. How he does, though, is beyond him.
She throws herself at him and he catches her, much like that first day, only this time he expected it. She holds him tightly, something more than relief in her embrace and, when she tries to pull away, his arms tighten around her. She leans back into him instead and he buries his face in her hair.
She’s alive, and he’s relieved, but he shouldn’t be.
It’s her.
It’s impossible, but it has to be her.
--
She’s starting to wake.
“Who are you?” he asks, flipping on the flood lights and aiming them in her face. A primitive technique, yes, but it’ll have to do until he gets more of his ship in working condition.
She squints at him, disorientated. “Jack?”
He’s just a shadow to her, he knows. “Answer the question.”
She tenses, eyes darting around to take in the cell. “What’s going on?”
“Stop playing with me,” he says, the results of the scan a sharp reminder in his mind. “Where are you from?”
Her voice is steady, but he knows her well enough by now to pick what’s beneath it. “It’s Rose, Jack - you know who I am.”
“That’s not my name,” he snaps. “I’ve never been assigned the name ‘Jack’.”
She shakes her head, squinting into the light. “What do you mean, ‘assigned the name Jack’?”
He ignores her question and presses her again. “Who are you? My scans show that you’re human, mostly, but beyond that...”
Something in her changes, there’s a flash of realisation and she grows hard. “Rose Tyler,” she says, chin tilting up in defiance. “I’m Rose Tyler.”
He sighs. He’d hoped, despite all he’d seen, that she was innocent - an innocent pawn in a game bigger than she understood.
He’d wanted her to be innocent.
“Rose Tyler doesn’t exist,” he retorts. “I’ve never seen anything so well integrated - you were hard to spot, I’ll give you that, but you don’t exist. You weren’t born, never died - up until a few years ago there was no trace of you. You came from nowhere, and nothing comes from nowhere.”
“Through nowhere,” she mutters, her eyes distant.
“You don’t belong here.” He claps his hands to get her attention. “Where do you come from?”
“Wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” she says, drawing her knees to her chest.
“You’re not helping yourself,” he says, trying to make his voice soothing. “I only want to help you, Rose - you have to tell me before I can help you.”
She laughs. “You always were a good liar, Jack.
“Are you still working for them, then?” She frowns into the light - eerily, right at him. “You must be, right? This isn’t a Chula ship.”
A cold finger creeps up his spine and he moves out of her line of sight. “Where did you come from?”
Her eyes follow him. “The Time Agency, right? Why else would you be here?”
He steps forward, into the light. “Who are you?”
“You can’t trust them,” she says, so much force in such a small voice. “They’ll take everything from you, even your memories, and they’ll leave you for dead.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, and he’s surprised to find himself hesitating. He wants to believe her, he does, but how can he?
“I know you, Jack. At least, I did... or, I will. And I know what they’ll do to you, I’ve seen the future. You can’t trust them.”
“And who should I trust? You?”
“No,” she says, the determination draining out of her. “I’ll do the same.”
--
Sometimes she looks at him with such sadness in her eyes. As if she knows - as if she knows everything.
He doesn’t want to believe it, though. Not her.
No, he doesn’t think she realises - but there’s something about her, something about the light that flickers in her eyes that makes him think that, even if she did, she wouldn’t stop.
Still, he wants her to be innocent, this girl he can laugh with. If only she doesn’t know, he thinks, if only she were a result of the anomaly, not the cause of it...
If only he didn’t have to stop her, but he’s seen the future, and it’s murder.
He wants to save her, but he fears that she’s no damsel in distress.
--
TBC...
Chapters:
chapter one
chapter two
chapter three