[fic] How Many Secret Organizations Have We Got Here, Anyway?
How Many Secret Organizations Have We Got Here, Anyway?
Fandoms: Buffy the Vampire Slayer / Torchwood
Rating: PG
Summary: How Jack met Buffy.
A/N: Approx. 460 words. Takes S8 of BtVS into account, but it's not at all necessary. Not shippy...yet. This could spawn something longer and more complicated, where they both deal with death and resurrection. We'll see.
The last thing Jack remembers is the vampire sucking on his punctured carotid artery. Now he's lying on his back in the middle of the darkened parking lot, and there's this skinny blonde girl bent over him.
Jack grunts. He's lightheaded, from the blood-loss as well as the return to life. He concentrates on the girl's face.
Surprise flits across it, followed by disgust.
"'Lo, gorgeous," Jack slurs.
He becomes aware of the wooden stake in her head only seconds before she stabs him through the heart with it.
*
He's back a moment later and before opening his eyes, he says as clearly as he can, "Don't. Do. That. Again."
He hears a choked gasp, then he's being poked and prodded by small fingers - not a bad thing ordinarily, but just now he'd rather she keep her distance. He hasn't the energy for push her away, though. He's resilient, but being killed twice in five minutes takes a lot out of a guy.
"You're alive!"
"Yep. It happens."
"But I mean - I - " Her voice is thick, like she's been crying - or fighting hard not to. "I staked you."
"Caught that bit."
The girl sniffs loudly, then says in an accusatory tone, "You were drained by a vampire. I thought you were rising. I don't even see a wound anymore. Not on your neck, not where I - And your heart's beating."
Jack rolls onto his side, pushes himself gingerly to his knees. One hand goes to his chest; his shirt is torn, but beneath the fabric there isn't even a scab. His other hand goes to his neck, massages the spot where the vampire bit him.
"Should you really be getting up?" the girl asks. "Maybe I should get an ambulance. Or whatever they're called here. Ambu-lorries?"
"Maybe," says Jack, "you should leave me alone."
"I'm sorry," she whispers. "I'm really sorry."
He turns to look at her. She's young enough for pigtails, platform shoes, low-slung bellbottoms, and a baby-doll tee with a lilac unicorn rearing up between her breasts. That's about all he can tell in the darkness.
The irritation leaves him. He shrugs. "It's all right. Like I said, it happens."
Perhaps encouraged by his tone, the girl says, "This is so me. I finally meet a guy whose accent I understand, and I kill him. Um, you are going to tell me how you managed to get killed twice in one night and not be dead, but not undead, right?"
"And you," says Jack, "are going to tell me what an American girl is doing, looking for the undead in Cardiff. Right? Jack Harkness, by the way. Captain Jack Harkness."
"Buffy Summers," she says, taking his hand and shaking it. "Um. Just Buffy Summers."
Not just anything, thinks Jack.
6.30.07
Fandoms: Buffy the Vampire Slayer / Torchwood
Rating: PG
Summary: How Jack met Buffy.
A/N: Approx. 460 words. Takes S8 of BtVS into account, but it's not at all necessary. Not shippy...yet. This could spawn something longer and more complicated, where they both deal with death and resurrection. We'll see.
The last thing Jack remembers is the vampire sucking on his punctured carotid artery. Now he's lying on his back in the middle of the darkened parking lot, and there's this skinny blonde girl bent over him.
Jack grunts. He's lightheaded, from the blood-loss as well as the return to life. He concentrates on the girl's face.
Surprise flits across it, followed by disgust.
"'Lo, gorgeous," Jack slurs.
He becomes aware of the wooden stake in her head only seconds before she stabs him through the heart with it.
*
He's back a moment later and before opening his eyes, he says as clearly as he can, "Don't. Do. That. Again."
He hears a choked gasp, then he's being poked and prodded by small fingers - not a bad thing ordinarily, but just now he'd rather she keep her distance. He hasn't the energy for push her away, though. He's resilient, but being killed twice in five minutes takes a lot out of a guy.
"You're alive!"
"Yep. It happens."
"But I mean - I - " Her voice is thick, like she's been crying - or fighting hard not to. "I staked you."
"Caught that bit."
The girl sniffs loudly, then says in an accusatory tone, "You were drained by a vampire. I thought you were rising. I don't even see a wound anymore. Not on your neck, not where I - And your heart's beating."
Jack rolls onto his side, pushes himself gingerly to his knees. One hand goes to his chest; his shirt is torn, but beneath the fabric there isn't even a scab. His other hand goes to his neck, massages the spot where the vampire bit him.
"Should you really be getting up?" the girl asks. "Maybe I should get an ambulance. Or whatever they're called here. Ambu-lorries?"
"Maybe," says Jack, "you should leave me alone."
"I'm sorry," she whispers. "I'm really sorry."
He turns to look at her. She's young enough for pigtails, platform shoes, low-slung bellbottoms, and a baby-doll tee with a lilac unicorn rearing up between her breasts. That's about all he can tell in the darkness.
The irritation leaves him. He shrugs. "It's all right. Like I said, it happens."
Perhaps encouraged by his tone, the girl says, "This is so me. I finally meet a guy whose accent I understand, and I kill him. Um, you are going to tell me how you managed to get killed twice in one night and not be dead, but not undead, right?"
"And you," says Jack, "are going to tell me what an American girl is doing, looking for the undead in Cardiff. Right? Jack Harkness, by the way. Captain Jack Harkness."
"Buffy Summers," she says, taking his hand and shaking it. "Um. Just Buffy Summers."
Not just anything, thinks Jack.
6.30.07