HAPPY BIRTHDAY MARY
It is Mary's birthday, and I already owe her a Watchmen story from help_haiti, but due to its overwhelming gloomyness, I deemed it birthday-innapropriate. And then I wrote this!
There are cross-overs and kissing and vampires. And it it so chronologically incorrect, I am writing it off as timey-wimey. Happy birthday?
Five People Jack Harkness Did Not Sex Up (Only Four of Which He Regrets)
John Mitchell just made Lieutenant, and he is drunk. Really, really, very drunk, and his coat is too big because he is a Lieutenant and Lieutenants need new coats and Lieutenants need more drinks, but he slightly sort of misses the bar and falls on a man in a flying jacket.
“Hey there, Danny Boy, careful now,” the voice is almost all teeth, and very American. Huge American hands hold Mitchell up, which is good because the ground is swaying.
“M’not Danny sodding Boy, I hate that song. M’a Lieutenant! Lieutenant John Mitchell! Just today! See?” He tries to point to his new insignia, but he can’t remember where they are.
“Congratulations! Let’s buy you a drink to celebrate!”
Mitchell is mostly sure he is the one who turned the drinking competition into a kissing competition. He’s even more sure he fell asleep before it got any further then kissing, which is probably for the best, all things considered. Probably.
He is entirely sure his new oversized greatcoat was stolen from him. He’s wearing a flying jacket now, with a note in the pocket, “Fits you better - J.”
He hangs on to the flying jacket, because a coat’s a coat, and because it makes him smile, for the last year and a half of his life.
After that, white teeth mean something very different to John Mitchell. He leaves the jacket behind, along with his prayer book and the photo of his mother.
~~~
Jack is trying to introduce Alonso to the delights of fried Denobulan snall birds when he hears a familiar voice. The trilling, tripping tones of an Orion girl feel out of place in the bar. He spots her in a Star Fleet uniform, the maroon setting her green skin alight.
Alonso looks at him, and across the room, and at him again. “Know her?”
“I used to.” He remembers her little voice, singing in the shipping container, the youngest of all the slaves, singing to raise everyone’s spirits. They were meant to be silent. The Orion Underground Railway was not secure. He had picked her up, chubby legs twining around his waist, and she spent the rest of the trip whispering into his neck, telling him song lyrics and god stories and things about her sister.
She’s gotten taller, lovelier, but her voice hasn’t changed at all.
“Excuse me?” she smiles, snuck up on him when he wasn’t looking. Must be getting old. “I saw you staring, and I was wondering if you might be interested in having a conversation that might lead to sex later?”
She doesn’t remember. He did look different, back then. Something inside him crumples.
“Oh, darling, it would be an honour, but I don’t think I could do your beauty justice tonight. However, have you met my friend Alonso?”
Alonso stutters, she smiles. When they disappear back to her room, Jack realises he could have joined them. The invitation was there, but he let the moment pass. He really is getting old.
~~~
Jack hasn’t been to the Tony Awards since 1949, and he’s only in New York by accident, on loan from the Time Agency. He’s glad he is, though. Fashions for men this year are military, art deco for the women, so he fits right in.
He snags a seat by a young man in impeccable Armani black. He is the best groomed boy Jack has seen in a while, and fashion tips descend into shameless flirting. When the lights go down Jack is mildly chagrined to realise that he does not know the man’s name. It’s best to get these things sorted out in advance, Jack finds, so you know what you’re meant to be screaming.
When the patter is over and the awards start, Jack is even more chagrined to realise he has been flirting with Kurt Hummel. The Kurt Hummel. The one who, in about three years, will be the centre of one of the most important cultural revolutions of the 21st century and Jack is not allowed to fuck that up. Kurt is an inviolable nexus point in the advancement of human society and the Time Agency Stays Away from Such Things.
Which means Jack has to slip away through the elegant crowd while Kurt is onstage the fourth time. He leaves an apologetic note under Kurt’s wine glass, signing off with “Be fabulous.” He realises how redundant that is.
~~~
Steph isn’t sure she’s allowed to think dudes that dress funny and have gadgets are weird, but this one is pretty weird.
He’s American, but the people working with him are British, and he knows Alfred really well, like, really well. As in Knows, and not just the sex way. And everyone, even Gordon, is kind of going along with it, which is really insanely weird.
But he’s here to help with the thing that’s been eating people’s left legs, so that’s good. The fact that he is totally cute is also in the positive column.
He’s fairly decent in a fight. In a stupid, heroic way that kind of reminds her people she’s not sure she wants reminding of. The stupid way that gets his left leg eaten off, to be exact. It’s when she’s cauterising the wound and checking his vitals that he kisses her hand.
It’s really romantic and really, really ridiculous. Kind of tingly.
In the cave, while the leg is growing back (weird but fascinating) she accidently, or entirely on purpose, overhears Alfred warn him away, not just from her, but from what he calls “this family.” Alfred makes him promise, and he does, with a laugh.
Steph is only a little disappointed.
~~~
His first time back on Earth since the 456, Jack meets Sofie. He had figured Santa Monica was new, no way to end up in a fight there. He had been wrong.
Of all the people Jack has fought vampires with, hunters in Iowa, dr’tolians in Saxifrage, soldiers, pirates, those two souled vampires who may or may not have been married, he’s never met any one vampire killer quite as single minded as this skinny little androgene with the fascinatingly ugly tattoo.
She destroys vampires with absolute concentration, and then continues through the rest of her day and night with the same absolute concentration, looking for a vampire to destroy. She doesn’t have an off switch. It’s interesting to watch.
She doesn’t like Jack, which he relishes. Jenny likes Jack. She invites him into their car when he was wounded, watched his neck knit closed, made fun of his musical choices, and never lost her cool. Jack wants to hide Jenny from the world, but he knows she deserves better then that. He helps her dye her hair, royal purple.
He meets Sofie in the middle of a fight, and leaves her eight days later, after he had told her about Grey and she had told him about Jay. She explained being a dhampir, he told her about the Abaddon. They killed vampires, stole things and drove.
He leaves because he’s not sure what he needs but he knows he can’t take it from these girls. He hugs Jenny, she smiles at him with worry in her eyes. He salutes Sofie. She just nods, and he almost falls in love with her. Instead he goes east, then north, and then skips over a few galaxies, and doesn’t regret it at all.
There are cross-overs and kissing and vampires. And it it so chronologically incorrect, I am writing it off as timey-wimey. Happy birthday?
Five People Jack Harkness Did Not Sex Up (Only Four of Which He Regrets)
John Mitchell just made Lieutenant, and he is drunk. Really, really, very drunk, and his coat is too big because he is a Lieutenant and Lieutenants need new coats and Lieutenants need more drinks, but he slightly sort of misses the bar and falls on a man in a flying jacket.
“Hey there, Danny Boy, careful now,” the voice is almost all teeth, and very American. Huge American hands hold Mitchell up, which is good because the ground is swaying.
“M’not Danny sodding Boy, I hate that song. M’a Lieutenant! Lieutenant John Mitchell! Just today! See?” He tries to point to his new insignia, but he can’t remember where they are.
“Congratulations! Let’s buy you a drink to celebrate!”
Mitchell is mostly sure he is the one who turned the drinking competition into a kissing competition. He’s even more sure he fell asleep before it got any further then kissing, which is probably for the best, all things considered. Probably.
He is entirely sure his new oversized greatcoat was stolen from him. He’s wearing a flying jacket now, with a note in the pocket, “Fits you better - J.”
He hangs on to the flying jacket, because a coat’s a coat, and because it makes him smile, for the last year and a half of his life.
After that, white teeth mean something very different to John Mitchell. He leaves the jacket behind, along with his prayer book and the photo of his mother.
~~~
Jack is trying to introduce Alonso to the delights of fried Denobulan snall birds when he hears a familiar voice. The trilling, tripping tones of an Orion girl feel out of place in the bar. He spots her in a Star Fleet uniform, the maroon setting her green skin alight.
Alonso looks at him, and across the room, and at him again. “Know her?”
“I used to.” He remembers her little voice, singing in the shipping container, the youngest of all the slaves, singing to raise everyone’s spirits. They were meant to be silent. The Orion Underground Railway was not secure. He had picked her up, chubby legs twining around his waist, and she spent the rest of the trip whispering into his neck, telling him song lyrics and god stories and things about her sister.
She’s gotten taller, lovelier, but her voice hasn’t changed at all.
“Excuse me?” she smiles, snuck up on him when he wasn’t looking. Must be getting old. “I saw you staring, and I was wondering if you might be interested in having a conversation that might lead to sex later?”
She doesn’t remember. He did look different, back then. Something inside him crumples.
“Oh, darling, it would be an honour, but I don’t think I could do your beauty justice tonight. However, have you met my friend Alonso?”
Alonso stutters, she smiles. When they disappear back to her room, Jack realises he could have joined them. The invitation was there, but he let the moment pass. He really is getting old.
~~~
Jack hasn’t been to the Tony Awards since 1949, and he’s only in New York by accident, on loan from the Time Agency. He’s glad he is, though. Fashions for men this year are military, art deco for the women, so he fits right in.
He snags a seat by a young man in impeccable Armani black. He is the best groomed boy Jack has seen in a while, and fashion tips descend into shameless flirting. When the lights go down Jack is mildly chagrined to realise that he does not know the man’s name. It’s best to get these things sorted out in advance, Jack finds, so you know what you’re meant to be screaming.
When the patter is over and the awards start, Jack is even more chagrined to realise he has been flirting with Kurt Hummel. The Kurt Hummel. The one who, in about three years, will be the centre of one of the most important cultural revolutions of the 21st century and Jack is not allowed to fuck that up. Kurt is an inviolable nexus point in the advancement of human society and the Time Agency Stays Away from Such Things.
Which means Jack has to slip away through the elegant crowd while Kurt is onstage the fourth time. He leaves an apologetic note under Kurt’s wine glass, signing off with “Be fabulous.” He realises how redundant that is.
~~~
Steph isn’t sure she’s allowed to think dudes that dress funny and have gadgets are weird, but this one is pretty weird.
He’s American, but the people working with him are British, and he knows Alfred really well, like, really well. As in Knows, and not just the sex way. And everyone, even Gordon, is kind of going along with it, which is really insanely weird.
But he’s here to help with the thing that’s been eating people’s left legs, so that’s good. The fact that he is totally cute is also in the positive column.
He’s fairly decent in a fight. In a stupid, heroic way that kind of reminds her people she’s not sure she wants reminding of. The stupid way that gets his left leg eaten off, to be exact. It’s when she’s cauterising the wound and checking his vitals that he kisses her hand.
It’s really romantic and really, really ridiculous. Kind of tingly.
In the cave, while the leg is growing back (weird but fascinating) she accidently, or entirely on purpose, overhears Alfred warn him away, not just from her, but from what he calls “this family.” Alfred makes him promise, and he does, with a laugh.
Steph is only a little disappointed.
~~~
His first time back on Earth since the 456, Jack meets Sofie. He had figured Santa Monica was new, no way to end up in a fight there. He had been wrong.
Of all the people Jack has fought vampires with, hunters in Iowa, dr’tolians in Saxifrage, soldiers, pirates, those two souled vampires who may or may not have been married, he’s never met any one vampire killer quite as single minded as this skinny little androgene with the fascinatingly ugly tattoo.
She destroys vampires with absolute concentration, and then continues through the rest of her day and night with the same absolute concentration, looking for a vampire to destroy. She doesn’t have an off switch. It’s interesting to watch.
She doesn’t like Jack, which he relishes. Jenny likes Jack. She invites him into their car when he was wounded, watched his neck knit closed, made fun of his musical choices, and never lost her cool. Jack wants to hide Jenny from the world, but he knows she deserves better then that. He helps her dye her hair, royal purple.
He meets Sofie in the middle of a fight, and leaves her eight days later, after he had told her about Grey and she had told him about Jay. She explained being a dhampir, he told her about the Abaddon. They killed vampires, stole things and drove.
He leaves because he’s not sure what he needs but he knows he can’t take it from these girls. He hugs Jenny, she smiles at him with worry in her eyes. He salutes Sofie. She just nods, and he almost falls in love with her. Instead he goes east, then north, and then skips over a few galaxies, and doesn’t regret it at all.