Jack Harkness fic - Miles to Go (Teen)
Title: Miles to Go
Author: Très Méchante
Summary: Jack has a little trouble with his ship and finds himself in a universe beyond anything even his imagination could have come up with. This is a crossover story introducing Jack Harkness into the Angel'verse.
Rating: FRT/FRA (somewhere between Teen and Adult)
Warnings: gratuitous references to pop culture, naughty words and sexual innuendo, slash implied (not graphic).
Word count: 9,600 approx.
Spoilers: Not really. The references are so vague they can’t really be called spoilers.
Disclaimer: If you recognize the characters, they are not mine. They slipped through an inter-dimensional portal into my mind and were subjected to the perverse whims of my muse - but they really seemed to enjoy it. Please don't sue.
Notes: Started for the 2006 Jack Harkness Ficathon over at galactic_conman. My muse went AWOL, but is back now, so the story is finally finished - a couple of years late, but it’s done.
This is for scribewraith, who wanted Angel crossover - Wes, Lindsey, Lilah, Lorne (anyone) - Jack ends up at Caritas (Lorne's bar).
Set post-Parting of the Ways in the DWverse and somewhere between S2/S3 in the Angelverse.
It was supposed to be a crack fic, something along the lines of “A lawyer, a demon hunter and a time traveler walk into a bar…” However, my muse took a sharp left turn and this story is the result.
==== == ====
“Hold on, now…slow down, baby. Not so fast.” Jack Harkness blinked the sweat from his eyes as he panted softly with exertion. “Just take it easy, sweetheart. Yeah, just like that.”
Jack licked the sweat from his upper lip. Every muscle in his body screamed under the strain of staying in control. Bracing himself with one foot on the console, he pulled back the lever, pulling harder when it resisted.
Temporal controls were never intended to be set manually, but desperate times called for desperate measures - and he was very desperate. Of course, it helped that he had a natural feel for time travel and mechanics. His ship - whatever ship it happened to be - responded to his every command and he always arrived when he intended, to the second, although trying to do this manually may be a little less precise.
The com crackled to life, distracting him briefly. The interference was heavy, however, and he could barely make out the words.
“…read me? Jack…lay…con…”
Jack frowned. Lay con? Ah, relay beacon.
“…peat…lock…spond…”
“Brilliant idea, Mitchell,” he grunted. “But with most of the wiring fried, there’s no way to lock the transponder to the relay beacon.”
Setting the last of the controls, Jack strapped himself back into his seat, fingers clumsy on the harness as sweat slicked his skin. He felt like he was being roasted alive, which was probably pretty close to the truth given his proximity to the sun.
Please, God, any god, let this work.
Reaching to his left, he hit the execute button and then braced himself. Trying to use the sun's energy to power his borrowed time ship was either extremely brilliant or - oh fuck - the ship began an uncontrolled roll.
He watched with an oddly detached feeling as his ship began to phase out, even as the sun's gravitational pull began pulling it apart.
Huh. It worked. Needs a bit of tweaking, though. I wonder--
Jack never got to finish wondering as his ship seemed to wink out of existence.
~~~~ ~ ~~~~
Awareness was instantaneous. Unfortunately so was the pain. Jack cautiously opened his eyes. Shouldn't have done that, he thought, closing them quickly. The dim light coming through the cracks in the hull was just enough to make him wish he hadn't regained consciousness.
Jack forced his eyes open once more, this time just slits.
Okay, I can do this. First things first. Inventory - arms, legs, two each. Check. Head? He winced at the throbbing. Oh, yeah, still there. He systematically checked for injuries and was both surprised and confused when nothing obviously major was found.
"Now for the acid test," he muttered, struggling to open the harness. "Just great. Survive the crash and then die because I can't open the fucking harness."
Just then the buckle released, causing his knuckles to smack into something. "Shit, that hurt."
He made his way on shaky legs to the hatch, stepping over and around debris as he went. Jack hesitated to open the hatch.
What if there's no oxygen? Be a shame to survive the crash and then suffocate. Of course, if the ship suddenly blows up, I'm dead anyway.
"No guts, no glory," he told himself. He took a steadying breath, pushed open the doorway and promptly fell about 10 feet.
"Well, hey, it's raining men!" exclaimed a voice somewhere to his left. "Oh, never mind. It's just a drizzle."
Jack rolled to his side, trying to look around. He was barely able to focus on the speaker. All he saw was a tall figure walking toward him. Jack's eyes widened in shock as red eyes and horns came into focus.
Well, damn. I’ve gone to hell.
- - ---- - ---
“Come on, Cutie. Open your eyes.”
Jack frowned slightly. Who? What? Cutie?
He felt a series of light taps on his cheek. Knock it off. “Stop...don’t.”
“Well, let the bells ring out and the banners fly. He’s alive.”
Jack forced his eyes open, wondering about the owner of the obnoxiously cheerful voice. He looked up to see blood red eyes and horns. “Oh God. I really am in Hell.”
“Close enough, Cupcake. You’re in L.A.” said the green man sitting on the side of the bed.
“Ellay?”
The green man laughed. “That’s L and A, Sweetie. Los Angeles. The City of Angels.”
Jack pondered that for a moment. “I get it. This is Earth, right?”
“The one and only. That’s some bump to the head you got,” he said. “Where did you think you were? The moon or something.”
Jack looked around the room and grinned slightly. “Well, the décor does sort of remind me a bit of the pleasure domes of Szymon.”
“Szymon? Never heard of it. Where - hey, did you just compare my bedroom to a brothel?” the man frowned, but his eyes gleamed with what Jack hoped was good humor.
“So, you’re room, huh? Did you at least buy me a drink first?”
“You are a cheeky one, aren’t you? No drink I’m afraid. You did drop by rather unexpectedly.” He paused and tilted his head toward the hole in the ceiling.
Jack looked up, then shifted up on the bed to lean against the headboard, noting he was only partially dressed. He bestowed his best, cockiest smile on his host. “Well, then, obviously introductions are in order. Jack. Jack Harkness.” Jack held out his hand.
A green hand was placed in his. “Krevlornsworth of the Deathwok Clan. But most folks simply refer to me as The Host.”
Jack frowned. “Host? As in…a symbiotic life form?”
The Host laughed. “Somebody’s been watching too many Stargate marathons.”
“What’s a star gate marathon?”
“You’re not from around here, are you?” The Host peered more closely at Jack. “Uh, say, Jack…you are kidding, right?”
“So, Host, exactly what kind of host are you?”
The Host took a deep breath. And then another one. “This could take a little while.”
In truth it took a long while. Four days, to be precise.
Jack had trouble with the whole concept of demons and magic, until his encounter with a pair of chaos demons and a vampire in the back lane convinced him otherwise. For his part, The Host had been unwilling to accept the whole time-space travel thing, making repeated references to someone called Spaceman Spiff. That is, until he’d gotten a good look inside Jack’s ship. Then he started talking about Klaatu and singing about calling occupants of interplanetary crafts. All of which confused Jack no end.
The ship had been freed from the bedroom ceiling and now languished in a rooftop storage area, moved there by a group of large heavily armored demons. Jack still grinned at hearing the largest being referred to as Skip.
Jack maneuvered a keg of something vaguely beer-like into position behind the bar. He hooked it up to the dispenser and wiped his hands, looking around to see what else needed doing.
For the past four weeks, Jack had been working at the club, Caritas, doing odd jobs in exchange for room and board with The Host - or Lorne to his friends.
When he wasn’t in the bar, he was working on his ship, trying to get it functional enough to jump far enough ahead in time so he could get components for a more thorough repair. Early 21st century Earth - even one in an alternate universe - had neither the technology nor the mathematics to be of much help.
In the meantime, life wasn’t so bad.
“Fill me up, Buttercup.”
Jack laughed and turned to see the Lorne holding out an empty glass. “Another?” asked Jack. “You’re going to get hammered, you know.”
“Sweetie, I could drink this stuff all night and not even get a buzz. Human alcohol just doesn’t pack much of a punch - even the way you mix ‘em.”
“That’s only because you’ve never had a double hypervodka martini. Guaranteed to put a twist in your horns.”
Jack poured The Host his drink and moved down the bar to greet one of the regulars. He frowned when he realized The Host hadn’t gone back to working the crowd.
“Something wrong, Boss?”
“Lorne.”
“Huh?”
“I really hate being called ‘Boss’.”
“Gotcha. Lorne it is. Sorry, Boss.”
“You are such a brat. I’d turn you over my knee, but somehow I don’t think you’d take it as punishment,” Lorne smirked. He indicated a small crowd at the other end of the bar. “Your fans await.”
Jack winked at Lorne and headed off to serve the newcomers.
Lorne watched Jack as the evening wore on. The regulars had accepted Jack as one of their own, mostly because talking to Jack, just being in his company, seemed to have a calming effect. Lorne decided that Jack was a chameleon, becoming whatever was needed, shifting from flirt to sympathetic ear to good ol’ boy to tough guy and back to flirt effortlessly.
It certainly leant credence to the human’s story about being some sort of secret agent. Although they’d only talked about it the one time, Lorne still shuddered at what hadn’t been said.
>>
Jack took a sip of the purple drink with the orange and green swirls. “Smooth,” he coughed.
Lorne grinned. “My personal stock. I don’t share that with just anyone, Toots.”
“I’m honored,” wheezed Jack.
“So, this time agency thing is what? Like the CIA or something?”
“Not quite. Officially, well, officially it doesn’t actually exist. It’s just a rumor.” Jack took another sip of his drink, barely flinching at the sting of it. “I really can’t tell you too much about it.”
Lorne snorted. “Because then you’d have to kill me. Yeah, I get that a lot.”
Jack laughed. “Something like that. Anyway, its mandate is mostly researching history and keeping time meddlers from causing trouble. And if the agents do their job right, no one ever knows.”
Lorne took a healthy swallow of his own drink and pondered the man across from him. They were sitting at the bar having their traditional nightcap. Everything was quiet, the patrons were long gone and Caritas was locked up tight.
Lorne picked up on something in Jack’s tone. “So, where do you fit into all this? You’re smart, but - and no offence, Sweet Thing - but I don’t see you as a researcher. And somehow I don’t see you as a time traveling traffic cop, either.”
“Look, Lorne…”
“Yeah, yeah you’d have to kill me. Tell me what you can then - give me something. I’m trying to understand all this. I’m not asking for stock tips, here - although it you have any suggestions, my portfolio could use a boost.” Lorne attempted to smile innocently.
“No stock tips, I’m afraid. At least nothing you could take advantage of in this century. Or maybe even in this reality.” Jack’s grin faded. “Are you familiar with the term ‘black ops’?”
Lorne stopped joking. “Shit.”
“That about covers it.” Jack looked undecided for a long moment before finally nodding to himself. “I am - was - am very good at what I do. I can become who or what I have to be to get the job done. I’m what you might call a problem solver.”
Lorne felt his heart stop. He knew ‘problem solvers’ - assassins, enforcers, and most of them employed by a certain law firm.
Jack stared at Lorne with dead eyes. “Right now I’m what you might call freelance - working on solving a personal problem, actually.” His smile was not pleasant. “The Agency took something from me. I want it back.”
Lorne had the uneasy feeling that that wasn’t the only thing the man was after. As Lorne watched, Jack blinked and was once again the congenial human who charmed everyone he met.
<<
Who is the real Jack Harkness? That was probably the more disturbing question. Lorne couldn’t help but wonder whether even Jack knew.
Lorne had noticed almost from the start that there was a dark aura under all the charm. In fact, Lorne had tried to read Jack, convincing him to sing privately a few times, but could never quite get a clear picture. It was rather like trying to watch television with a snowy picture, he thought.
On the other hand, it was pleasant to simply listen to him sing. Jack had a beautiful voice, especially when he crooned the old standards. So far, Lorne had been able to coax him into singing publicly once or twice a week. And he was selfish enough to hope Jack would be around for a long time
~~~~ ~ ~~~~
It had been six weeks and a bit since his arrival, and Jack could feel despair nipping at him. The ship was barely ready to fly, assuming he could synthesize a fuel replacement, but time travel was another issue entirely. Damage to the gamma-grade circuits meant everything had to be recalibrated - an impossibly complex project, even with his wrist-comp.
The quiet times were the worst; when he wasn't busy with the ship or helping out at Caritas, that's when they came - dark thoughts and shadows of what was and what might be, doubts and depression. Even when he managed to escape into sleep, his dreams taunted him with images of what was and what may have been and what he wanted most of all. They blended together so seamlessly that he was never quite able to tell fantasy from memory when he woke.
Leaning back against the pillows piled on his bed, Jack closed his eyes and tried to relax. He focused solely on his breathing in an attempt to clear his mind and stem the vague sense of panic clawing at his gut.
In. Out. In. Out. He kept up the steady measured breaths. In. Out. In. Out. It took several minutes, but Jack could feel the tide of panic receding, slowly but surely.
And that’s when he heard the music. At least, he thought it was music, although maybe it was a voice telling him something. No matter how hard he tried to bring it into focus, it remained just out of his reach.
In. Out. In. Out. His breathing gradually slowed, matching the elusive music echoing inside him. Without meaning to, he slept.
~~~~ ~ ~~~~
Since the night had been unusually quiet, Lorne had let him go early. He quickly approached the rooftop workroom, mind already working on the problem at hand. Sliding the key in the lock, Jack paused when he realized the door was already unlocked. The faint sound of scurrying came from inside. Damn. He palmed his mini-blaster and gently pushed open the door.
He listened. Faint breathing came from the shadows to his left. As he closed the door, he moved to the right, but once the room was in darkness, he quickly changed direction and collided with a body at the door. The intruder fought like a wild animal, biting and scratching and twisting every which way.
With a muttered curse Jack wrenched his arm away from sharp teeth. He slammed the intruder into the wall and fumbled for the light switch. The condition of his workroom was enough to distract him, giving his a chance captive to lash out. Jack barely evaded a knee to his groin.
“Fuck! Okay, that’s enough.” Jack spun his attacker around and slammed him face first into the wall, using his own body to hold the other person still. “Who the hell are you and what are you doing here? Answer me, kid.”
“I’m not a kid!”
Jack took a closer at the boy struggling against him, and realized his mistake. “No. You certainly aren’t.” Jack stepped back slightly, but kept hold of his captive’s wrists as he turned the trembling young woman around to face him. “So. Who are you and what exactly are you doing here?”
The young woman trembled and looked wildly for an escape. “Y-you better let me go. A-Angel will b-be mad if y-you hurt me.”
“A guardian angel, huh. Well, I’m not hurting you, but I am going to get an answer.” His voice was deceptively calm. He indicated the walls covered in various mathematical formulas. “Now, I’m asking for the last time, who are you and what the hell is all this?”
The young woman remained stubbornly silent for a moment, and then the words came in a torrent. “M-my name is Fred - well, it’s actually Winifred, b-but Daddy was expecting a boy and liked the name and he kinda got used to referring to me as Fred - before I was born, I mean. Then when I was born and they found out I was a girl, well, he still kept calling me Fred but Momma said no way was her girl going to have a boy’s name and so they named me after her great aunt Winnie, ‘cause that would include the Fred thing and-”
Jack slammed his hand over Fred’s mouth. “Breathe,” he urged, quickly taking his hand away.
Fred took a deep breath. “I-I-I’m sorry. I kinda b-babble when I’m n-nervous.”
Against his will, Jack found himself utterly charmed by this strange girl-woman. “Hi, Fred. I’m Jack. And I’m not going to hurt you, okay?”
“Um, ‘kay.” Fred smiled shyly.
Jack took a chance and let her go, pleased when she didn’t immediately bolt for the door. “You want to tell me what you were doing here?”
“I-I didn’t mean anything. It’s j-just that I got bored. Angel let me come along, but he was talking to someone and I just wanted to look around. I kinda figured it would be quiet up here, but then it got cold and I thought maybe I could just stay here for a while, so I opened the door and-”
“Take a breath.”
“And so I just came in.”
“The door was locked.”
“Lock wasn’t all that complicated. I-I mean anyone could’ve come in,” she scoffed.
Jack decided to let that pass. “So you figured, while you were here you’d…what? Redecorate?”
Fred looked very nervous. “Sorry. I just got carried away. I saw the calculations on those papers there, a-and there was a mistake, and it got me to thinking, so I just…” she waved a hand around the room. “It happens sometimes. Me getting carried away, I mean.”
Jack went over to his workbench and looked at his workbook. “A mistake where? And how do you know Roskovian equations, anyway? That shouldn’t even exist for another few hundred years.”
“I-I’m very good with formulas and calculations and theoretical stuff. I’m - or was, I guess - a prodigy. Kinda.” She smiled shyly at Jack. “It wasn’t a big mistake. You just transposed some numbers. I noticed and then I started working out the patterns and made some changes, and…Well, like I said. Sometimes I get carried away.”
Jack walked over to one wall and examined the writing. “This is good. Simple - really early stuff, but way more advanced than anything in this time period.” He whirled suddenly and pinned Fred with a fierce gaze. “When are you from?”
“Wha-what?”
“No one should be able to do this yet. Even in this dimension, none of this exists. You can’t be from this era.” He walked over to her, following when she backed up until she was against the wall. Jack quickly began scanning her with his wrist-comp.
Fred was distracted by the device. “What’s that?” She tried to get a closer look, but Jack suddenly turned and stalked back to the center of the room.
“You’re from here and now,” said Jack, his voice almost accusing.
“Well, yeah. I mean, I did spend some time in Pylea - the whole slave thing, you know - but this is where I’m from. Well, from Texas, actually, but I was living here when I ended up there. Pylea, I mean.” Fred giggled nervously. “Okay. I’m babbling again. Sorry.”
Jack smiled faintly and dropped heavily on a stool.
“Can I ask you a question?” Fred asked tentatively. She moved a little closer to Jack.
“Sure.”
“What do you mean ‘when’?”
“It’s a very long story, Fred.”
“A-Angel will probably be a long time - lawyers, you know?”
“Angel is a lawyer?”
Fred laughed. “No. I mean he’s talking to one. Down in the bar. Angel is, well, he’s...”
Jack noted the dreamy look on Fred’s face. And the hero-worship. “I’m guessing Angel is someone special.”
“Oh yeah.” Fred sighed, then refocused on Jack. “I’ve got time for a long story. I-if you want to tell me, I mean.”
Jack reached out and dragged another stool over and patted it. “Have a seat. Can I get you something to drink?” Jack mentally began sorting which facts to share.
Fred carefully arranged herself on the stool, looking for all the world like a little girl waiting to hear a bedtime story.
Jack shook his head. It was all he could do not to start with the immortal words ‘once upon a time’.
--- - ---
Two weeks later, Jack’s no closer to finding an alternate fuel source, but his calculations are coming along rather well. Fred’s affinity for mathematics and theoretical physics was nothing short of astonishing, especially given the limitations of this time period.
Jack looked around the bar, noting that everyone was happy for the moment. He absently restocked the shelf with clean glasses, surreptitiously checking the time, counting down until he could escape to his workroom and the company of the woman-child with a gift for numbers and equations.
He fought back a grin as he thought about Fred, who’d been sneaking in almost every night. She’d been through so much pain and terror, but her heart remained oddly innocent, not unlike a certain blonde - he quickly shut down that memory. He had a mission and nothing - and no one - was going to sidetrack him. Certainly not even a naïve girl who thought he was some kind of hero.
He wiped down the counter quickly, movements harsh and jerky as he wrestled with memories of Rose.
“Easy, Tiger. Everything okay?”
Jack blinked, bringing himself back to the present. Lorne was looking at him, concern swirling in his red eyes.
“Yeah. Just…thinking.” Jack resumed wiping, his movements steadier.
“Sad thoughts?”
“Not - just thoughts I’d rather not face right now,” said Jack, a parody of his trademark grin twisting his lips.
Lorne said nothing for a moment, just stared at Jack. “Not going to call you on it, Sweetcakes. At least not right now. I’ve got a meeting in the back room in a few. When a guy named Wesley gets here - British, kinda nervous - point him my way, ‘kay?”
“Sure, no problem,” said Jack to Lorne’s retreating back. Mentally giving himself a shake, Jack resumed lecturing himself. Get a grip man. Now is not the time to lose it.
Jack's attention was caught by the man coming in the door. Actually, it was the leather jacket that got his attention, leaving Jack to wonder if he was doomed to a fascination with leather jackets.
The man was tall - a little over six feet - and had a slender build. His dark hair was carefully mussed and the wire-frame glasses gave him a scholarly appearance. But the clothes and the attitude did not go together. No confidence, thought Jack. The guy was trying to project an image that he couldn't quite pull off.
The newcomer approached the bar, looking around but obviously trying not to stare at anyone - anything? - in particular.
"So, what'll you have?" asked Jack.
The man jumped slightly. "Oh, er, whiskey. No, beer. No, better make that whiskey."
"I have just the thing," said Jack, who smiled and winked at him. Wesley - it couldn't be anyone else, what with being British and nervous - blushed.
Jack slipped into the back and returned a few minutes later, placing a delicate porcelain cup in front of the still twitchy Wesley. "Here, you go, Wesley. I figured a bracing cup of tea more than a shot of whiskey," Jack said.
Wesley's eyes widened and he looked a little panicked. "You know my name?"
"Lorne said to look for an English guy who was, uh, who matches your description." Jack saw no point in making the guy even more twitchy by commenting on his already twitchy state.
"I see," murmured Wesley, who sipped his tea and nodded his approval. "Excellent. The tea, I mean. Thank you."
Once Wesley seemed calmer, Jack directed him to Lorne. Jack watched the man walk away, and decided that maybe, with a little more confidence, the dark-and-dangerous look might just work after all.
The rest of the shift went without a hitch, but his time in the workshop was not as enjoyable as he'd hoped. Fred had sent word that she couldn't be there, although she'd promised to come in a couple of days.
Concentration shot, Jack wandered back down to the bar to help with the clean up. Sometimes a little physical activity was all it took to get the brain working again.
He had just come out of the storeroom when he was accosted by a beautiful dark-haired woman. "I'd wondered where you'd gotten to," she all but purred.
"I'm right here," said Jack, smiling flirtatiously even as he wondered who she was.
She held out her hand. "Lilah Morgan."
"Ms. Morgan, delighted to meet you."
"Please, call me Lilah."
"Lilah. I'm Jack."
"Oh I know who you are," she said.
Her voice was warm, but something about it sent a chill down Jack's spine.
"And what exactly is it that you know?" he asked cautiously.
"I know that your talents are wasted here," she said.
"And you've come to take me away from all this?" Jack sensed danger, but wasn't sure of its source.
Lilah opened her handbag and pulled out a business card. "I've been watching you, Jack. You've got a remarkable gift when it comes to dealing with people and, well, other beings."
Jack gently corrected her. "You mean humans and nonhumans. They're all people as far as I'm concerned."
Her smile faltered slightly. "Of course. I misspoke. Anyway, your people skills could be put to great use by my employers. And the pay and benefits are out of this world."
Jack glanced at the card. "Wolfram and Hart. I really don't get along with lawyers," he said.
"I assure you they are not the kind of lawyers you are used to dealing with. Actually, you wouldn't even be dealing with legal matters. I - we'd like to offer you a position in special projects."
Jack did not like the sound of that, but before he could come up with a tactful way to get rid of her - it never paid to piss off a potential enemy - Lorne interrupted them.
"Ms. Morgan, how delightful to see you."
Lilah quickly hid the flash of irritation in her eyes before turning to Lorne. "You're looking well."
"How kind," he said. "I hate to break up your little tête-à-tête, but I really do need to lock up. It'll be dawn soon and some of my staff has to get home before that happens. You understand."
"Of course," she said. She turned to Jack. "Perhaps we could continue this later? Call me. You have my card." She turned and strode to the exit, high heels clicking imperiously against the floor.
Once she left, Lorne hurried over and locked the door. "Not to be catty, you understand, but that woman is trouble. You really should be careful."
"Yeah. Something about her made my teeth itch," he mused. "I just can't quite put my finger on what it is."
"Listen to your spidey sense, my friend."
"Spidey sense?"
Lorne looked at Jack in horror. "You don't know about Spider Man? He's only one of the great cultural icons of our time. Well, I guess this just proves you’re not from around here," huffed The Host.
Jack laughed and threw an arm around Lorne's shoulders. "You are so easy," he said.
Lorne glared at Jack, but his red eyes gleamed with amusement, completely ruining the effect.
Jack walked over the bar and leaned against it. "So, tell me about lovely-yet-cold Ms. Morgan and trouble."
Lorne straightened his jacket and picked at non-existent lint. "She is a hell of a lawyer; same goes for her employer."
"Why am I thinking that's not a compliment?"
"You've got that right, Fly Boy. These are people you do not want to piss off. In fact, you want to stay as far away from them as possible."
"That could be a little awkward," commented Jack. "It seems Wolfram and Hart wants to offer me a job."
Lorne paled under his green skin. "This is not good. Not good at all. If you've come to their attention..." Lorne walked behind the bar and grabbed two glasses and a bottle. He poured two drinks and gulped them both down. "You have got to leave. Now."
Jack stood up from his slouch against the bar. "There's nothing I'd like better, believe me. But-" He was cut off by a sound coming from the back exit.
Jack glanced at Lorne. "Are you expecting company?"
Lorne shrugged. "No, but then folks do have a way of dropping in unannounced," he said, shooting a meaningful look at Jack.
Jack smirked back at him before turning his attention to the back of the club. “Wait here,” he said as he stealthily moved away from the bar.
Lorne could only watch in amazement as a small gun of some sort suddenly appeared in Jack’s hand. Lorne noted the tight-fitting pants Jack wore and wondered, not for the first time, where the man actually hid the gun.
The sounds of a scuffle broke the silence followed by a shout. “Get your hands off me!”
Jack and his unhappy captive appeared a few moments later.
Lorne’s eyes widened in shock. “You, my pretty songbird, were supposed to have flown the coop. You’re supposed to be half-way across the country by now.”
Jack looked between Lorne and the young man. “I gather you two know each other?” he asked as he carefully lowered his mini-blaster.
“You can let him go, Jack, but keep your gun handy - oh, not for him, but if he’s here, we may end up with more company.” Lorne glanced suspiciously at the shadowed corners of the bar. “Soon.”
Jack let the man go, watching with interest as he straightened his shirt, tucking it back into nicely snug jeans. Jack couldn’t help the appreciative look he gave to the younger man.
Lorne rolled his eyes when he caught Jack’s look, and rolled them again when he noticed the look being returned.
“This is just peachy. I’ve got a private showing of Romeo and Julio,” snarked Lorne. “Jack, meet Lindsey. Lindsey, this is Jack. Unfortunately you boys don’t have time for a get acquainted drink - or anything else. Lindsey, nice to see you, but goodbye.”
Lindsey blushed but held Jack’s gaze. “Actually, Jack is the reason I’m here.” He turned to Lorne. “The Senior Partners know there’s a new player in town and they want him on their team - voluntarily is not a requirement.”
Jack looked confused. “Senior partners?”
Lorne sighed. “Oh, Cupcake. You remember that law firm I mentioned? Lindsey, here, is trying to be a former employee.”
“The firm Ms. Morgan works for?” asked Jack, pulling out the card she’d given him. “Wolfram and Hart.”
Lindsey looked like he was going to faint. “They’ve already been in touch? They won’t take no for an answer. You didn’t say yes?”
“Uh, no. Definitely did not say yes. I’ve got plans and they don’t include working for lawyers until the day I die.”
Lindsey just smiled a nasty smile. “Just to be clear on that; you wouldn’t actually be working until the day you died. The ‘in perpetuity’ clause guarantees you’ll be working for them after death, too. Once you sign, there’s no turning back.”
Jack looked skeptical. “But you’re some kind of exception to the rule? Or didn’t you sign that kind of contract?”
“Oh, I signed it, but I’ll find a way out.”
Lorne interrupted. “I really hate to cut in on this renegades bonding moment, but if you’re found in my humble little establishment…”
"They're not looking for me - well, they are but not here." Lindsey grinned. "It's a masking spell; it took effect at the airport a few hours ago. Wolfram and Hart will be busy using their resources to check flights and possible destinations. They'll be staking out the terminals in case I'm taking a later flight."
Lorne whistled in admiration. "Very sneaky, my little fox, but that won't fool them for long."
"Doesn't have to. I stay out of sight until noonish and then I'm gone."
Lorne looked pensive for a moment. "I suppose you want to use this as your hideout?"
"You've got to admit, no one will expect it. I mean, you're a friend of Angel's and, well, I'm not." Lindsey flexed his hand, which Jack noted looked somehow newer than the other.
Lorne was reluctant to put his livelihood at risk. "There'll be hell to pay if Angel decides to stop by--"
"Not going to happen. He's got his own issues to deal with right now," Lindsey assured him.
Lorne did not feel particularly reassured. Whenever his Angelcakes had issues, he always dragged them into Caritas.
Although Jack was uncertain about the subtext in that conversation, he decided to speak up for Lindsey. Jack always went with his gut, and right now it was telling him the guy was on the level. "He can crash in my bed for a few hours."
The other two men jumped slightly at the intrusion, clearly having forgotten Jack until that moment. Lorne and Lindsey turned to look at Jack - Lorne with amusement and Lindsey with speculation.
Jack blinked. "Not like that! I didn't mean - I..." He glared at Lorne who started to snigger, and at Lindsey who pouted. "Knock it off, you guys. I just meant that I had some stuff to work on and the bed would be available for a few hours."
Lindsey looked at Lorne. "If it's okay with you, I could do with some sleep."
Lorne bowed his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You are out of here by noon."
"Understood."
"You will go to sleep or at least stay hidden, and when you leave--"
"Lorne, not even you will see me leave."
"Fine. But I'm holding you to that. Jack, could you...?"
Jack patted Lorne on the shoulder. "No problem. Lindsey?"
Lorne watched the two men walk back towards his private quarters. He really hoped he wasn't making a mistake. Lorne listened to them chat as they went before he headed to the office. The night's receipts were not going to count themselves.
--- - ---
Upstairs, Jack fussed a bit tidying the bed covers. "I wasn't expecting company."
Lindsey grinned slightly. "Don't fuss on my account. All I need is a corner to curl up in."
Giving the blankets a final pat, Jack stepped back. "There you go. Do you need anything?"
"I'm good. Thanks." Lindsey kicked off his shoes and pulled his shirt loose from the waistband of his jeans. He noticed Jack standing by the bed, watching his every move. "Do you need anything?"
Jack grinned, not at all embarrassed about being caught watching. "I need lots of things," he said.
Lindsey blushed a bit but continued undressing. He popped the button on his jeans and turned away from Jack as he slid them down over lean muscled thighs. Jack enjoyed the view as nicely rounded buttocks came into view, even if they were still covered in briefs.
Lindsey settled onto the bed and tossed the blanket over his lower body, leaving his chest bare. Jack couldn't help but admire the picture Lindsey made.
Lindsey in turn was mesmerized by Jack, the way his admittedly attractive body was at once relaxed and yet still ready for action. There was an element of danger about the man that was damnably appealing.
Jack cleared his throat. "I'll, uh, I'll just let you get some rest. You want a wake-up call?"
"I doubt I'll sleep, but maybe you could make sure I'm up before noon?"
Jack nodded and left with obvious reluctance. He went in search of Lorne.
"Sleeping beauty all tucked in?" asked Lorne.
Jack grinned. "He seems kind of tense. I'm not sure how much sleep he'll actually get, but, yeah, he's all tucked in."
"That boy is headed for trouble," said Lorne. "There's a vibe that just makes me want to cry."
"Have you done that song thing for him? Maybe you can set him on the right path."
"I've told him. What's coming is dark and he's heading right into the heart of it. I don't know what he's planning, but it's not good. I just wish..." Lorne sighed. "There's still light inside him, but it's getting fainter. I've warned him, but, well it's all about free choice, right? Or maybe it's actually destiny and he has to do what he has to do no matter what the consequences are."
"One of the things that's kept me alive this long is that I go with my gut in certain situations. My gut says he's an okay guy," offered Jack.
Lorne smiled sadly. "Yes, he is. I can't help but wonder what would have happened if Wolfram and Hart hadn't taken such an interest in him."
Both men were quiet for a while. Jack pointed to the inventory sheet. "Want some help with that?"
"I thought you were going to work on, you know," he said, pointing toward the roof.
"To tell you the truth, my friend, I've done all I can. Some of the things I need either haven't been invented yet, or the materials haven't been discovered. And in this reality, who knows if it'll ever happen."
"Jack, you're not giving up, are you?" Lorne was aghast.
"Not giving up, exactly. I just don't know what to do next." Jack sighed. "Maybe I need a break, you know, come at this from a different angle."
"Well, I don't think inventory is what you need, but I won't say no to the help. Paperwork is not why I got into this gig."
Jack accepted the forms and a pencil and went to work, leaving Lorne to finish counting the receipts. It never failed to amuse and bemuse Lorne that the government could vehemently deny the existence of all things demon, but still expect to collect taxes from said demon-based businesses.
A few hours later, Jack quietly entered his bedroom. He paused just inside the room to watch Lindsey sleep. Jack wondered what twists the future would hold for his truly beautiful man. He knew from experience that the exterior was not always a true indicator of what was inside a person, but still, he found it difficult to believe that Lindsey was headed to ruin.
Jack stealthily approached the bed, but had not gone more than a couple of steps before Lindsey suddenly sat up, eyes wide and searching for danger.
Jack immediately held up his hands in a non-threatening manner. "Whoa, now. Take it easy. It's 11:30. You asked for a wake-up call, remember?"
Lindsey scrubbed his hands over his face. "Yeah. Thanks." He looked around. "Do you think I've got time for a shower? I told Lorne I'd be out of here by noon."
Jack smiled encouragingly. "I'm sure it won't be a problem. I'll just be downstairs. Say goodbye before you go?"
Lindsey just gave him a half nod and headed toward the bathroom.
Barely twenty minutes later, he went downstairs and was surprised to find Lorne waiting for him. He was shocked when Lorne walked up to him and hugged him.
“Take care of yourself. You know what’ll happen if they find you," Lorne whispered to Lindsey.
Lindsey pulled away and gave him a half-grin. “I’m going on the theory that it’s harder to hit a moving target. Don’t worry, I’ve got a plan.”
“Machiavelli you’re not,” Lorne told him, red eyes dulling somewhat with worry. Visibly pulling himself together, Lorne made a shooing motion with his hands. “Now, scat before anyone else shows up.”
Lindsey moved toward the back exist, but stopped and looked at Jack. “The Senior Partners won’t give up, you know. When they want something they will move Hell itself to get it - and right now, what they want, is you.” He smiled and offered, “You could come with me.”
Jack returned his smile. “Tempting. Very tempting, but…” he shook his head with real regret.
“I know, but I had to ask, just in case.” Lindsey took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “Lorne, I’ll see you again. That's a promise."
Lorne smiled sadly.
Lindsey smiled back just as sadly before glancing at Jack. He reached into the front pocket of his jeans and pulled out a small object. He tossed it to Jack, saying, "I think this might help you with...whatever. It's a one-shot thing, so use it wisely."
And then he was gone. Jack and Lorne looked at the place where Lindsey had been standing, then looked at each other. There was nothing to indicate that Lindsey had actually been there.
Except for the small object Jack was now holding.
Jack opened his hands to see what he it was. It was an amulet of some sort. He didn't recognize the design, but it appeared to be quite old. Lorne snatched it from him and Jack watched his eyes almost glow in excitement.
"I wasn't expecting this. I don't think anyone could have expected this," Lorne said, his voice hushed. "Not to get your hopes up or anything, Dorothy, but you may be going back to Kansas after all."
Jack took back the amulet, turning it in the light to better examine the writing on it. "This is going to solve my problem?"
"There are things more powerful than science, my friend. What you are holding is the key to major mojo. The being this belongs to is the stuff of legends. I've only seen drawings of this, but...Jack, you are holding something so powerful that entire civilizations would destroy each other to possess it."
Jack looked skeptical. "So, why did Lindsey give it to me?"
Lorne looked nonplussed for a moment. "I think he may have, uh, liberated this from Wolfram and Hart's vaults. Giving it to you was a way to get back at them. They lose a valuable power source, and, possibly lose you at the same time." Lorne shook his head. "Of course, there will be consequences."
"You mean these lawyers are going to be looking for it?"
"Well, yes, that, too. But I mean that there's a catch when it comes to using this." Lorne looked serious enough to spook Jack. "No one wields this kind of power out of the goodness of their hearts. There will be a price."
"Like what?"
"That's the risk. No one actually knows until it's too late to back out."
"I'm willing to take the risk. How do we contact this guy?"
"Just call him. That amulet is kind of like a pager." Lorne pointed to the engraving on the back of the amulet. "All you have to do is recite this and he - or maybe he's a she? Anyway, just recite this and the owner will appear."
Jack squinted at the writing and muttered to himself as he tried to read the inscription.
"Stop!" Lorne yelled, snatching it back. “Don't do that until we're ready. You heard Lindsey; it's a one-shot deal. Screw this up and there won’t be a second chance."
Jack was confused. "So how do we know it's still good? Maybe it's a dud."
Lorne gave him a patient look. "The fact that it's here means it isn't a dud. Once it's been used, it disappears and reappears another time and another place. Once means once."
"So, what now," asked Jack.
"Now, you go back to your drawing board. Be very specific about what you need. Then get everything ready to go. Once the incantation is spoken everything will move fast."
Jack stared at Lorne. "I'm going home?"
Lorne hesitated. "Maybe. Yeah. There's only one way to know for sure, right?"
Jack stared intently at Lorne. "When do you want to do this?"
Lorne frowned. "I think the sooner the better. It's just not possible to call on this kind of power and have it overlooked by certain types of people, like say, a firm of evil lawyers. Our best shot is to do this while they're distracted by Mr. McDonald's sudden disappearance."
Jack was stunned. Home. He'd do pretty much anything to get back to his own universe. Even believe in magic.
The next few days passed in a blur of activity. At Lorne’s urging, Jack meticulously went over every detail of what was needed to make his ship fully functional - every calculation, every bit of not-yet-invented technology, every scrap of material not known in this world was noted.
The ship was space-worthy, sort of, but he had no way to break orbit. Hell, he’d be lucky to coax enough power to get off the roof.
Once the preparations were set, Jack had to wait to activate, for wont of a better word, the amulet. Lorne said the conditions had to be just right and insisted that would not happen for another two weeks. In the meantime, Jack continued to work behind the bar as though he had no other place to be.
A week later, an unexpected visit from the formidable Ms Morgan had Jack hiding in the shadows near the storeroom. Fortunately, her focus seemed to be on someone tall, dark and totally depressing.
Jack had never actually met Angel, but had observed him on his many visits to Caritas. The first time he'd seen the man, Angel had been mostly hidden in shadows and all he could see was a glimpse of dark leather encasing broad shoulders. It was only when Angel had moved into the light that he realized the man bore no resemblance at all to the Doctor.
Jack watched as Ms Morgan tried to use flirtation to sway Angel to whatever point she was trying to make.
Lorne sidled up to Jack. “You don't like him much do you, Sweet Cheeks?”
Jack was startled by the green demon’s sudden appearance. He turned a carefree smile on the host. “I haven't actually met him, so I can't really say one way or the other.”
“But you avoid him,” Lorne pointed out.
Jack shrugged. “There's something about the guy - he gives off very strong 'stay away' vibes.”
“It’s his cloak of doom and gloom,” Lorne sighed. “I’ve told him he’ll never make any friends if he doesn’t lighten up.”
Jack looked back out into the bar, noting Angel was now alone and looking even more depressed than usual. “I take it this isn't a social call?” said Jack, nodding towards Angel’s location.
Lorne sighed. “I wish.”
Jack winced. “He's going to sing, isn't he?”
“I’m afraid so. Apparently there's still more Manilow to be mangled.” Lorne sighed yet again. “I think I need a drink first. What do you say?” He glanced back at Jack, but found he was talking to an empty space. Jack was already at the emergency exit.
Two days before he was to leave, Jack was joined by an unusually skittish Fred. Jack pretended to work on calculations while covertly watching Fred wander around the work space. He smiled when she stopped beside his ship and began to pet the hull.
“She likes you, too,” said Jack, amusement evident in his tone.
Fred jumped at the sound of his voice, but did not stop what she was doing. “It’s like...like I can actually feel her. When we were working on the engine, it was like I had my hands inside a living thing.” Fred blushed. “Sounds kind of silly, huh?”
“Not at all. Some of the circuits have an organic base, and the programming includes a basic personality matrix - it gets kinda lonely out there sometimes with no one to talk to.” Jack grinned. “A pilot needs to rely on his ship, just like the ship depends on her pilot. It’s kind of like a marriage.”
Fred giggled and lifted her hand away from the hull. “Well, I wouldn’t want to be responsible for a divorce or anything.”
“Like I said, she likes you. In fact, she’d probably be open to a three-way.” He leered playfully at Fred, delighting in making her blush even more.
“Oh, you. You’re so bad!”
Jack got up and swaggered toward her. “But I’m so good at it.”
Fred evaded him and leaned against the work table. She reached out and began shuffling the papers around. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”
Jack sighed. “Fred…”
“The last couple of visits, we haven’t done any serious work, just, you know, fiddly little things.” She turned toward him. “I didn’t really want to think about it, but I just know it’s true.”
Jack didn’t even think of lying. “I’m leaving.”
“But the-the fuel thing hasn’t been figured out, and the calculations clearly show...op-optimizing velocity won’t happen with…” Fred hesitated, quickly swiping at the tears running down her cheeks. “You’re not ready to try yet, and I’m not ready for you to leave, either.”
Pulling Fred into a tight embrace, Jack shushed her, gently rubbing small circles along her back as she cried.
“I have to try, honey. Things are spiraling out of control and some very unfriendly types are closing in.” He pressed a light kiss against her temple. “If I don’t try, then things are going to get very ugly, and the people I’ve come to care about might get caught in the crossfire.”
Fred pulled back and looked up at him. “It’s those lawyers, right? That lady lawyer scares me,” she whispered.
“She scares me, too,” he whispered back, tightening his arms around her. “Come with me, little one.”
Jack was shocked when the words left his mouth, but now that the words had been spoken, he realized that he really did want her to leave with him.
“You-you mean when you go? As in go home?”
“Sure. Why not?” He smiled his most winning smile. “Think about the possibilities. There are whole other worlds to explore - you could visit different eras, history and future.”
Excitement and wonder dawned in Fred’s eyes.
Jack leaned in and whispered in her ear. “Think of the scientific wonders - light years ahead of the here and now - all the wonders of the universe for you to explore. Just say yes.”
Fred glanced over at the time ship, a dreamy expression on her face. “Kind of like running away to join the circus or something. See the world, see the universe.”
“Whatever you can imagine, and even things you can’t. It could all be yours,” he cajoled.
Fred hugged Jack tight for a moment before loosening her embrace. “Sounds like a dream come true. I really wish I could.”
Jack knew he would be leaving alone. Again. “But you can,” he said, almost pleading.
She shook her head. “No, I really can’t. There wouldn’t be any coming back, not to live, not even to visit.”
Jack didn’t offer any false promises. She was right; this was likely a one-way trip. Assuming the ship actually went anywhere.
“So, you’re not even tempted, huh?” asked Jack.
Fred grinned back at him. “It really is tempting, but, well, I just got home again and...”
“I get it.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Maybe someday, somehow, I’ll be able to come back for you.”
“I’d like that. I’d like that a whole lot. And I promise to say yes.”
“See you around, kiddo,” he said, and let her go. It wasn’t until much later that he realized Fred hadn’t asked exactly how he was leaving.
“Plausible deniability,” he murmured to his ship. Smart girl. Damn. I’m going to miss you so much.
~~~~ ~ ~~~~
“What crawled in that bottle and died?” exclaimed Jack, backing away from Lorne.
“Oh suck it up, Buttercup. It’s not that bad,” Lorne chided while holding the bottle as far away from his own face as possible. “I’ll have you know this is a rare blend of powerful herbs and other, uh, things, from no fewer than five different dimensions.”
“I am not drinking that!”
“I should hope not. It’s used for marking anchor points, not drinking.”
Jack looked relieved. “So, you’re going to paint that on the floor or something?”
Lorne’s enthusiastic grin unnerved Jack.
~~~~ ~ ~~~~
Jack sat inside the silent ship, on the floor within a painted circle. He was alone and half naked, swaying slightly as he repeated the hypnotic chant that would summon the being - oh, all right, demon - that might help him get home. A chalice sat in front of him, light from some kind of chemical reaction flickering eerily within it.
Jack’s skin itched where the foul-smelling liquid had been painted on him in a series of complex patterns. Despite the stench, Lorne seemed to enjoy wielding the soft brush all over Jack’s body. Jack had to admit he’d found the sensation somewhat arousing and regretted never moving beyond flirtation with his delightful green friend. The hug Lorne gave him hinted that he may have felt the same.
A sudden burning raced across his skin as the painted patterns began to glow. The room seemed to spin and tilt with increasing speed until Jack felt that he would black out.
“Speak.”
Jack jerked in shock and almost knocked over the chalice. He scanned the area, looking for whoever or whatever had spoken.
“Speak.”
Jack focused on a spot in deepest shadows, trying to see who was there. As he watched, a robed figure seemed to float toward him. The features were indistinct, blurred as undecided whether or not to even exist.
Although gripped by an intense feeling of dread, Jack managed a fairly cocky smile. “Uh, hello there. Captain Jack Harkness at your serv--”
“What are you?”
Jack frowned, startled by the question. “I’m human,” he replied cautiously. “What are you?”
The robed being ignored him. He - it? - looked around the ship before focusing on Jack once more. Something in his mysterious visitor’s demeanor hinted at puzzlement.
“Tell me, you who call yourself human, what is the desire of your heart?”
Jack began to stand but suddenly found himself pushed back onto the floor, the strange being looming over him. Something that may have been hand-like rested on his head.
Agony ripped through Jack when something bore through his skull and into his brain. Unable to draw breath enough to scream, Jack simply tried to endure.
Suddenly, images flashed behind closed eyes. Scenes of cons and scams merged with his childhood, his service with the time agency - lossangerbetrayal-hatehurthatevengacemakethempay-neverstop-whywhywhy! Pain seemed to explode in his chest when other images and emotions broke through - doctortardisjealousrosesweet-doctorrosewantneedfamily-feardaleksfearpaindark-doctorrosegoneforgotten-whywhywhy
Jack gasped. He was lying outside the circle. The robed figure floated inside the circle holding the chalice. “You amuse me. Go. Seek the desire of your heart. In time, I will collect your sacrifice.” An eerie screech filled the interior of ship.
Before Jack could react, his skin began to burn, wisps of smoke drifting on a nonexistent breeze. The symbols painted on his body glowed bright red and the smell of burning flesh assailed his nostrils. He was barely conscious of the robed visitor flinging the contents of the chalice around the ship. His entire being was focused on his pain - it burned like nothing he’d ever experienced, worse even than the Dalek blast. dyingdyingpainheatpainhothothot
He felt like he was being roasted alive, which was probably pretty close to the truth given his proximity to the sun.
Please, God, any god, let this work.
Reaching to his left, he hit the execute button and then braced himself. Trying to use the sun's energy to power his borrowed time ship was either extremely brilliant or - oh fuck - the ship began an uncontrolled roll.
He watched with an oddly detached feeling as his ship began to phase out, even as the sun's gravitational pull began pulling it apart. He was almost surprised when the ship seemed to snap back together.
Huh. It worked. Needs a bit of tweaking, though. I wonder--
The chatter over the communicator warned him he wasn’t out of the woods yet. No one knew for sure whether he’d survived, but the consensus seemed to be that he’d either been burned up in the sun or had managed a jump. A quick scan - odd that the communicator seemed to be working again - revealed no one was close enough to intercept him. Jack took this as his cue and made his escape, thankful that his ship was once more operational.
Safely hidden away from his pursuers, he finally took time to rest. Strange images haunted his dreams and he woke more tired than when he’d first gone to sleep. Jack was unable to shake the vivid dreams and found himself occasionally running his hands over his chest, phantom pain burning a pattern into his skin. There was nothing there, but it reminded him of...something.
Jack pushed aside this oddity and focused on his plans. He had to find the Doctor and Rose. He needed to know why they’d abandoned him. He desperately needed to know what had really happened on the Game Station.
He didn’t care if he had to travel from one end of the universe to the other to get answers, even if it took forever.
-END-
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
--- Robert Frost
Author: Très Méchante
Summary: Jack has a little trouble with his ship and finds himself in a universe beyond anything even his imagination could have come up with. This is a crossover story introducing Jack Harkness into the Angel'verse.
Rating: FRT/FRA (somewhere between Teen and Adult)
Warnings: gratuitous references to pop culture, naughty words and sexual innuendo, slash implied (not graphic).
Word count: 9,600 approx.
Spoilers: Not really. The references are so vague they can’t really be called spoilers.
Disclaimer: If you recognize the characters, they are not mine. They slipped through an inter-dimensional portal into my mind and were subjected to the perverse whims of my muse - but they really seemed to enjoy it. Please don't sue.
Notes: Started for the 2006 Jack Harkness Ficathon over at galactic_conman. My muse went AWOL, but is back now, so the story is finally finished - a couple of years late, but it’s done.
This is for scribewraith, who wanted Angel crossover - Wes, Lindsey, Lilah, Lorne (anyone) - Jack ends up at Caritas (Lorne's bar).
Set post-Parting of the Ways in the DWverse and somewhere between S2/S3 in the Angelverse.
It was supposed to be a crack fic, something along the lines of “A lawyer, a demon hunter and a time traveler walk into a bar…” However, my muse took a sharp left turn and this story is the result.
==== == ====
“Hold on, now…slow down, baby. Not so fast.” Jack Harkness blinked the sweat from his eyes as he panted softly with exertion. “Just take it easy, sweetheart. Yeah, just like that.”
Jack licked the sweat from his upper lip. Every muscle in his body screamed under the strain of staying in control. Bracing himself with one foot on the console, he pulled back the lever, pulling harder when it resisted.
Temporal controls were never intended to be set manually, but desperate times called for desperate measures - and he was very desperate. Of course, it helped that he had a natural feel for time travel and mechanics. His ship - whatever ship it happened to be - responded to his every command and he always arrived when he intended, to the second, although trying to do this manually may be a little less precise.
The com crackled to life, distracting him briefly. The interference was heavy, however, and he could barely make out the words.
“…read me? Jack…lay…con…”
Jack frowned. Lay con? Ah, relay beacon.
“…peat…lock…spond…”
“Brilliant idea, Mitchell,” he grunted. “But with most of the wiring fried, there’s no way to lock the transponder to the relay beacon.”
Setting the last of the controls, Jack strapped himself back into his seat, fingers clumsy on the harness as sweat slicked his skin. He felt like he was being roasted alive, which was probably pretty close to the truth given his proximity to the sun.
Please, God, any god, let this work.
Reaching to his left, he hit the execute button and then braced himself. Trying to use the sun's energy to power his borrowed time ship was either extremely brilliant or - oh fuck - the ship began an uncontrolled roll.
He watched with an oddly detached feeling as his ship began to phase out, even as the sun's gravitational pull began pulling it apart.
Huh. It worked. Needs a bit of tweaking, though. I wonder--
Jack never got to finish wondering as his ship seemed to wink out of existence.
~~~~ ~ ~~~~
Awareness was instantaneous. Unfortunately so was the pain. Jack cautiously opened his eyes. Shouldn't have done that, he thought, closing them quickly. The dim light coming through the cracks in the hull was just enough to make him wish he hadn't regained consciousness.
Jack forced his eyes open once more, this time just slits.
Okay, I can do this. First things first. Inventory - arms, legs, two each. Check. Head? He winced at the throbbing. Oh, yeah, still there. He systematically checked for injuries and was both surprised and confused when nothing obviously major was found.
"Now for the acid test," he muttered, struggling to open the harness. "Just great. Survive the crash and then die because I can't open the fucking harness."
Just then the buckle released, causing his knuckles to smack into something. "Shit, that hurt."
He made his way on shaky legs to the hatch, stepping over and around debris as he went. Jack hesitated to open the hatch.
What if there's no oxygen? Be a shame to survive the crash and then suffocate. Of course, if the ship suddenly blows up, I'm dead anyway.
"No guts, no glory," he told himself. He took a steadying breath, pushed open the doorway and promptly fell about 10 feet.
"Well, hey, it's raining men!" exclaimed a voice somewhere to his left. "Oh, never mind. It's just a drizzle."
Jack rolled to his side, trying to look around. He was barely able to focus on the speaker. All he saw was a tall figure walking toward him. Jack's eyes widened in shock as red eyes and horns came into focus.
Well, damn. I’ve gone to hell.
- - ---- - ---
“Come on, Cutie. Open your eyes.”
Jack frowned slightly. Who? What? Cutie?
He felt a series of light taps on his cheek. Knock it off. “Stop...don’t.”
“Well, let the bells ring out and the banners fly. He’s alive.”
Jack forced his eyes open, wondering about the owner of the obnoxiously cheerful voice. He looked up to see blood red eyes and horns. “Oh God. I really am in Hell.”
“Close enough, Cupcake. You’re in L.A.” said the green man sitting on the side of the bed.
“Ellay?”
The green man laughed. “That’s L and A, Sweetie. Los Angeles. The City of Angels.”
Jack pondered that for a moment. “I get it. This is Earth, right?”
“The one and only. That’s some bump to the head you got,” he said. “Where did you think you were? The moon or something.”
Jack looked around the room and grinned slightly. “Well, the décor does sort of remind me a bit of the pleasure domes of Szymon.”
“Szymon? Never heard of it. Where - hey, did you just compare my bedroom to a brothel?” the man frowned, but his eyes gleamed with what Jack hoped was good humor.
“So, you’re room, huh? Did you at least buy me a drink first?”
“You are a cheeky one, aren’t you? No drink I’m afraid. You did drop by rather unexpectedly.” He paused and tilted his head toward the hole in the ceiling.
Jack looked up, then shifted up on the bed to lean against the headboard, noting he was only partially dressed. He bestowed his best, cockiest smile on his host. “Well, then, obviously introductions are in order. Jack. Jack Harkness.” Jack held out his hand.
A green hand was placed in his. “Krevlornsworth of the Deathwok Clan. But most folks simply refer to me as The Host.”
Jack frowned. “Host? As in…a symbiotic life form?”
The Host laughed. “Somebody’s been watching too many Stargate marathons.”
“What’s a star gate marathon?”
“You’re not from around here, are you?” The Host peered more closely at Jack. “Uh, say, Jack…you are kidding, right?”
“So, Host, exactly what kind of host are you?”
The Host took a deep breath. And then another one. “This could take a little while.”
In truth it took a long while. Four days, to be precise.
Jack had trouble with the whole concept of demons and magic, until his encounter with a pair of chaos demons and a vampire in the back lane convinced him otherwise. For his part, The Host had been unwilling to accept the whole time-space travel thing, making repeated references to someone called Spaceman Spiff. That is, until he’d gotten a good look inside Jack’s ship. Then he started talking about Klaatu and singing about calling occupants of interplanetary crafts. All of which confused Jack no end.
The ship had been freed from the bedroom ceiling and now languished in a rooftop storage area, moved there by a group of large heavily armored demons. Jack still grinned at hearing the largest being referred to as Skip.
Jack maneuvered a keg of something vaguely beer-like into position behind the bar. He hooked it up to the dispenser and wiped his hands, looking around to see what else needed doing.
For the past four weeks, Jack had been working at the club, Caritas, doing odd jobs in exchange for room and board with The Host - or Lorne to his friends.
When he wasn’t in the bar, he was working on his ship, trying to get it functional enough to jump far enough ahead in time so he could get components for a more thorough repair. Early 21st century Earth - even one in an alternate universe - had neither the technology nor the mathematics to be of much help.
In the meantime, life wasn’t so bad.
“Fill me up, Buttercup.”
Jack laughed and turned to see the Lorne holding out an empty glass. “Another?” asked Jack. “You’re going to get hammered, you know.”
“Sweetie, I could drink this stuff all night and not even get a buzz. Human alcohol just doesn’t pack much of a punch - even the way you mix ‘em.”
“That’s only because you’ve never had a double hypervodka martini. Guaranteed to put a twist in your horns.”
Jack poured The Host his drink and moved down the bar to greet one of the regulars. He frowned when he realized The Host hadn’t gone back to working the crowd.
“Something wrong, Boss?”
“Lorne.”
“Huh?”
“I really hate being called ‘Boss’.”
“Gotcha. Lorne it is. Sorry, Boss.”
“You are such a brat. I’d turn you over my knee, but somehow I don’t think you’d take it as punishment,” Lorne smirked. He indicated a small crowd at the other end of the bar. “Your fans await.”
Jack winked at Lorne and headed off to serve the newcomers.
Lorne watched Jack as the evening wore on. The regulars had accepted Jack as one of their own, mostly because talking to Jack, just being in his company, seemed to have a calming effect. Lorne decided that Jack was a chameleon, becoming whatever was needed, shifting from flirt to sympathetic ear to good ol’ boy to tough guy and back to flirt effortlessly.
It certainly leant credence to the human’s story about being some sort of secret agent. Although they’d only talked about it the one time, Lorne still shuddered at what hadn’t been said.
>>
Jack took a sip of the purple drink with the orange and green swirls. “Smooth,” he coughed.
Lorne grinned. “My personal stock. I don’t share that with just anyone, Toots.”
“I’m honored,” wheezed Jack.
“So, this time agency thing is what? Like the CIA or something?”
“Not quite. Officially, well, officially it doesn’t actually exist. It’s just a rumor.” Jack took another sip of his drink, barely flinching at the sting of it. “I really can’t tell you too much about it.”
Lorne snorted. “Because then you’d have to kill me. Yeah, I get that a lot.”
Jack laughed. “Something like that. Anyway, its mandate is mostly researching history and keeping time meddlers from causing trouble. And if the agents do their job right, no one ever knows.”
Lorne took a healthy swallow of his own drink and pondered the man across from him. They were sitting at the bar having their traditional nightcap. Everything was quiet, the patrons were long gone and Caritas was locked up tight.
Lorne picked up on something in Jack’s tone. “So, where do you fit into all this? You’re smart, but - and no offence, Sweet Thing - but I don’t see you as a researcher. And somehow I don’t see you as a time traveling traffic cop, either.”
“Look, Lorne…”
“Yeah, yeah you’d have to kill me. Tell me what you can then - give me something. I’m trying to understand all this. I’m not asking for stock tips, here - although it you have any suggestions, my portfolio could use a boost.” Lorne attempted to smile innocently.
“No stock tips, I’m afraid. At least nothing you could take advantage of in this century. Or maybe even in this reality.” Jack’s grin faded. “Are you familiar with the term ‘black ops’?”
Lorne stopped joking. “Shit.”
“That about covers it.” Jack looked undecided for a long moment before finally nodding to himself. “I am - was - am very good at what I do. I can become who or what I have to be to get the job done. I’m what you might call a problem solver.”
Lorne felt his heart stop. He knew ‘problem solvers’ - assassins, enforcers, and most of them employed by a certain law firm.
Jack stared at Lorne with dead eyes. “Right now I’m what you might call freelance - working on solving a personal problem, actually.” His smile was not pleasant. “The Agency took something from me. I want it back.”
Lorne had the uneasy feeling that that wasn’t the only thing the man was after. As Lorne watched, Jack blinked and was once again the congenial human who charmed everyone he met.
<<
Who is the real Jack Harkness? That was probably the more disturbing question. Lorne couldn’t help but wonder whether even Jack knew.
Lorne had noticed almost from the start that there was a dark aura under all the charm. In fact, Lorne had tried to read Jack, convincing him to sing privately a few times, but could never quite get a clear picture. It was rather like trying to watch television with a snowy picture, he thought.
On the other hand, it was pleasant to simply listen to him sing. Jack had a beautiful voice, especially when he crooned the old standards. So far, Lorne had been able to coax him into singing publicly once or twice a week. And he was selfish enough to hope Jack would be around for a long time
~~~~ ~ ~~~~
It had been six weeks and a bit since his arrival, and Jack could feel despair nipping at him. The ship was barely ready to fly, assuming he could synthesize a fuel replacement, but time travel was another issue entirely. Damage to the gamma-grade circuits meant everything had to be recalibrated - an impossibly complex project, even with his wrist-comp.
The quiet times were the worst; when he wasn't busy with the ship or helping out at Caritas, that's when they came - dark thoughts and shadows of what was and what might be, doubts and depression. Even when he managed to escape into sleep, his dreams taunted him with images of what was and what may have been and what he wanted most of all. They blended together so seamlessly that he was never quite able to tell fantasy from memory when he woke.
Leaning back against the pillows piled on his bed, Jack closed his eyes and tried to relax. He focused solely on his breathing in an attempt to clear his mind and stem the vague sense of panic clawing at his gut.
In. Out. In. Out. He kept up the steady measured breaths. In. Out. In. Out. It took several minutes, but Jack could feel the tide of panic receding, slowly but surely.
And that’s when he heard the music. At least, he thought it was music, although maybe it was a voice telling him something. No matter how hard he tried to bring it into focus, it remained just out of his reach.
In. Out. In. Out. His breathing gradually slowed, matching the elusive music echoing inside him. Without meaning to, he slept.
~~~~ ~ ~~~~
Since the night had been unusually quiet, Lorne had let him go early. He quickly approached the rooftop workroom, mind already working on the problem at hand. Sliding the key in the lock, Jack paused when he realized the door was already unlocked. The faint sound of scurrying came from inside. Damn. He palmed his mini-blaster and gently pushed open the door.
He listened. Faint breathing came from the shadows to his left. As he closed the door, he moved to the right, but once the room was in darkness, he quickly changed direction and collided with a body at the door. The intruder fought like a wild animal, biting and scratching and twisting every which way.
With a muttered curse Jack wrenched his arm away from sharp teeth. He slammed the intruder into the wall and fumbled for the light switch. The condition of his workroom was enough to distract him, giving his a chance captive to lash out. Jack barely evaded a knee to his groin.
“Fuck! Okay, that’s enough.” Jack spun his attacker around and slammed him face first into the wall, using his own body to hold the other person still. “Who the hell are you and what are you doing here? Answer me, kid.”
“I’m not a kid!”
Jack took a closer at the boy struggling against him, and realized his mistake. “No. You certainly aren’t.” Jack stepped back slightly, but kept hold of his captive’s wrists as he turned the trembling young woman around to face him. “So. Who are you and what exactly are you doing here?”
The young woman trembled and looked wildly for an escape. “Y-you better let me go. A-Angel will b-be mad if y-you hurt me.”
“A guardian angel, huh. Well, I’m not hurting you, but I am going to get an answer.” His voice was deceptively calm. He indicated the walls covered in various mathematical formulas. “Now, I’m asking for the last time, who are you and what the hell is all this?”
The young woman remained stubbornly silent for a moment, and then the words came in a torrent. “M-my name is Fred - well, it’s actually Winifred, b-but Daddy was expecting a boy and liked the name and he kinda got used to referring to me as Fred - before I was born, I mean. Then when I was born and they found out I was a girl, well, he still kept calling me Fred but Momma said no way was her girl going to have a boy’s name and so they named me after her great aunt Winnie, ‘cause that would include the Fred thing and-”
Jack slammed his hand over Fred’s mouth. “Breathe,” he urged, quickly taking his hand away.
Fred took a deep breath. “I-I-I’m sorry. I kinda b-babble when I’m n-nervous.”
Against his will, Jack found himself utterly charmed by this strange girl-woman. “Hi, Fred. I’m Jack. And I’m not going to hurt you, okay?”
“Um, ‘kay.” Fred smiled shyly.
Jack took a chance and let her go, pleased when she didn’t immediately bolt for the door. “You want to tell me what you were doing here?”
“I-I didn’t mean anything. It’s j-just that I got bored. Angel let me come along, but he was talking to someone and I just wanted to look around. I kinda figured it would be quiet up here, but then it got cold and I thought maybe I could just stay here for a while, so I opened the door and-”
“Take a breath.”
“And so I just came in.”
“The door was locked.”
“Lock wasn’t all that complicated. I-I mean anyone could’ve come in,” she scoffed.
Jack decided to let that pass. “So you figured, while you were here you’d…what? Redecorate?”
Fred looked very nervous. “Sorry. I just got carried away. I saw the calculations on those papers there, a-and there was a mistake, and it got me to thinking, so I just…” she waved a hand around the room. “It happens sometimes. Me getting carried away, I mean.”
Jack went over to his workbench and looked at his workbook. “A mistake where? And how do you know Roskovian equations, anyway? That shouldn’t even exist for another few hundred years.”
“I-I’m very good with formulas and calculations and theoretical stuff. I’m - or was, I guess - a prodigy. Kinda.” She smiled shyly at Jack. “It wasn’t a big mistake. You just transposed some numbers. I noticed and then I started working out the patterns and made some changes, and…Well, like I said. Sometimes I get carried away.”
Jack walked over to one wall and examined the writing. “This is good. Simple - really early stuff, but way more advanced than anything in this time period.” He whirled suddenly and pinned Fred with a fierce gaze. “When are you from?”
“Wha-what?”
“No one should be able to do this yet. Even in this dimension, none of this exists. You can’t be from this era.” He walked over to her, following when she backed up until she was against the wall. Jack quickly began scanning her with his wrist-comp.
Fred was distracted by the device. “What’s that?” She tried to get a closer look, but Jack suddenly turned and stalked back to the center of the room.
“You’re from here and now,” said Jack, his voice almost accusing.
“Well, yeah. I mean, I did spend some time in Pylea - the whole slave thing, you know - but this is where I’m from. Well, from Texas, actually, but I was living here when I ended up there. Pylea, I mean.” Fred giggled nervously. “Okay. I’m babbling again. Sorry.”
Jack smiled faintly and dropped heavily on a stool.
“Can I ask you a question?” Fred asked tentatively. She moved a little closer to Jack.
“Sure.”
“What do you mean ‘when’?”
“It’s a very long story, Fred.”
“A-Angel will probably be a long time - lawyers, you know?”
“Angel is a lawyer?”
Fred laughed. “No. I mean he’s talking to one. Down in the bar. Angel is, well, he’s...”
Jack noted the dreamy look on Fred’s face. And the hero-worship. “I’m guessing Angel is someone special.”
“Oh yeah.” Fred sighed, then refocused on Jack. “I’ve got time for a long story. I-if you want to tell me, I mean.”
Jack reached out and dragged another stool over and patted it. “Have a seat. Can I get you something to drink?” Jack mentally began sorting which facts to share.
Fred carefully arranged herself on the stool, looking for all the world like a little girl waiting to hear a bedtime story.
Jack shook his head. It was all he could do not to start with the immortal words ‘once upon a time’.
--- - ---
Two weeks later, Jack’s no closer to finding an alternate fuel source, but his calculations are coming along rather well. Fred’s affinity for mathematics and theoretical physics was nothing short of astonishing, especially given the limitations of this time period.
Jack looked around the bar, noting that everyone was happy for the moment. He absently restocked the shelf with clean glasses, surreptitiously checking the time, counting down until he could escape to his workroom and the company of the woman-child with a gift for numbers and equations.
He fought back a grin as he thought about Fred, who’d been sneaking in almost every night. She’d been through so much pain and terror, but her heart remained oddly innocent, not unlike a certain blonde - he quickly shut down that memory. He had a mission and nothing - and no one - was going to sidetrack him. Certainly not even a naïve girl who thought he was some kind of hero.
He wiped down the counter quickly, movements harsh and jerky as he wrestled with memories of Rose.
“Easy, Tiger. Everything okay?”
Jack blinked, bringing himself back to the present. Lorne was looking at him, concern swirling in his red eyes.
“Yeah. Just…thinking.” Jack resumed wiping, his movements steadier.
“Sad thoughts?”
“Not - just thoughts I’d rather not face right now,” said Jack, a parody of his trademark grin twisting his lips.
Lorne said nothing for a moment, just stared at Jack. “Not going to call you on it, Sweetcakes. At least not right now. I’ve got a meeting in the back room in a few. When a guy named Wesley gets here - British, kinda nervous - point him my way, ‘kay?”
“Sure, no problem,” said Jack to Lorne’s retreating back. Mentally giving himself a shake, Jack resumed lecturing himself. Get a grip man. Now is not the time to lose it.
Jack's attention was caught by the man coming in the door. Actually, it was the leather jacket that got his attention, leaving Jack to wonder if he was doomed to a fascination with leather jackets.
The man was tall - a little over six feet - and had a slender build. His dark hair was carefully mussed and the wire-frame glasses gave him a scholarly appearance. But the clothes and the attitude did not go together. No confidence, thought Jack. The guy was trying to project an image that he couldn't quite pull off.
The newcomer approached the bar, looking around but obviously trying not to stare at anyone - anything? - in particular.
"So, what'll you have?" asked Jack.
The man jumped slightly. "Oh, er, whiskey. No, beer. No, better make that whiskey."
"I have just the thing," said Jack, who smiled and winked at him. Wesley - it couldn't be anyone else, what with being British and nervous - blushed.
Jack slipped into the back and returned a few minutes later, placing a delicate porcelain cup in front of the still twitchy Wesley. "Here, you go, Wesley. I figured a bracing cup of tea more than a shot of whiskey," Jack said.
Wesley's eyes widened and he looked a little panicked. "You know my name?"
"Lorne said to look for an English guy who was, uh, who matches your description." Jack saw no point in making the guy even more twitchy by commenting on his already twitchy state.
"I see," murmured Wesley, who sipped his tea and nodded his approval. "Excellent. The tea, I mean. Thank you."
Once Wesley seemed calmer, Jack directed him to Lorne. Jack watched the man walk away, and decided that maybe, with a little more confidence, the dark-and-dangerous look might just work after all.
The rest of the shift went without a hitch, but his time in the workshop was not as enjoyable as he'd hoped. Fred had sent word that she couldn't be there, although she'd promised to come in a couple of days.
Concentration shot, Jack wandered back down to the bar to help with the clean up. Sometimes a little physical activity was all it took to get the brain working again.
He had just come out of the storeroom when he was accosted by a beautiful dark-haired woman. "I'd wondered where you'd gotten to," she all but purred.
"I'm right here," said Jack, smiling flirtatiously even as he wondered who she was.
She held out her hand. "Lilah Morgan."
"Ms. Morgan, delighted to meet you."
"Please, call me Lilah."
"Lilah. I'm Jack."
"Oh I know who you are," she said.
Her voice was warm, but something about it sent a chill down Jack's spine.
"And what exactly is it that you know?" he asked cautiously.
"I know that your talents are wasted here," she said.
"And you've come to take me away from all this?" Jack sensed danger, but wasn't sure of its source.
Lilah opened her handbag and pulled out a business card. "I've been watching you, Jack. You've got a remarkable gift when it comes to dealing with people and, well, other beings."
Jack gently corrected her. "You mean humans and nonhumans. They're all people as far as I'm concerned."
Her smile faltered slightly. "Of course. I misspoke. Anyway, your people skills could be put to great use by my employers. And the pay and benefits are out of this world."
Jack glanced at the card. "Wolfram and Hart. I really don't get along with lawyers," he said.
"I assure you they are not the kind of lawyers you are used to dealing with. Actually, you wouldn't even be dealing with legal matters. I - we'd like to offer you a position in special projects."
Jack did not like the sound of that, but before he could come up with a tactful way to get rid of her - it never paid to piss off a potential enemy - Lorne interrupted them.
"Ms. Morgan, how delightful to see you."
Lilah quickly hid the flash of irritation in her eyes before turning to Lorne. "You're looking well."
"How kind," he said. "I hate to break up your little tête-à-tête, but I really do need to lock up. It'll be dawn soon and some of my staff has to get home before that happens. You understand."
"Of course," she said. She turned to Jack. "Perhaps we could continue this later? Call me. You have my card." She turned and strode to the exit, high heels clicking imperiously against the floor.
Once she left, Lorne hurried over and locked the door. "Not to be catty, you understand, but that woman is trouble. You really should be careful."
"Yeah. Something about her made my teeth itch," he mused. "I just can't quite put my finger on what it is."
"Listen to your spidey sense, my friend."
"Spidey sense?"
Lorne looked at Jack in horror. "You don't know about Spider Man? He's only one of the great cultural icons of our time. Well, I guess this just proves you’re not from around here," huffed The Host.
Jack laughed and threw an arm around Lorne's shoulders. "You are so easy," he said.
Lorne glared at Jack, but his red eyes gleamed with amusement, completely ruining the effect.
Jack walked over the bar and leaned against it. "So, tell me about lovely-yet-cold Ms. Morgan and trouble."
Lorne straightened his jacket and picked at non-existent lint. "She is a hell of a lawyer; same goes for her employer."
"Why am I thinking that's not a compliment?"
"You've got that right, Fly Boy. These are people you do not want to piss off. In fact, you want to stay as far away from them as possible."
"That could be a little awkward," commented Jack. "It seems Wolfram and Hart wants to offer me a job."
Lorne paled under his green skin. "This is not good. Not good at all. If you've come to their attention..." Lorne walked behind the bar and grabbed two glasses and a bottle. He poured two drinks and gulped them both down. "You have got to leave. Now."
Jack stood up from his slouch against the bar. "There's nothing I'd like better, believe me. But-" He was cut off by a sound coming from the back exit.
Jack glanced at Lorne. "Are you expecting company?"
Lorne shrugged. "No, but then folks do have a way of dropping in unannounced," he said, shooting a meaningful look at Jack.
Jack smirked back at him before turning his attention to the back of the club. “Wait here,” he said as he stealthily moved away from the bar.
Lorne could only watch in amazement as a small gun of some sort suddenly appeared in Jack’s hand. Lorne noted the tight-fitting pants Jack wore and wondered, not for the first time, where the man actually hid the gun.
The sounds of a scuffle broke the silence followed by a shout. “Get your hands off me!”
Jack and his unhappy captive appeared a few moments later.
Lorne’s eyes widened in shock. “You, my pretty songbird, were supposed to have flown the coop. You’re supposed to be half-way across the country by now.”
Jack looked between Lorne and the young man. “I gather you two know each other?” he asked as he carefully lowered his mini-blaster.
“You can let him go, Jack, but keep your gun handy - oh, not for him, but if he’s here, we may end up with more company.” Lorne glanced suspiciously at the shadowed corners of the bar. “Soon.”
Jack let the man go, watching with interest as he straightened his shirt, tucking it back into nicely snug jeans. Jack couldn’t help the appreciative look he gave to the younger man.
Lorne rolled his eyes when he caught Jack’s look, and rolled them again when he noticed the look being returned.
“This is just peachy. I’ve got a private showing of Romeo and Julio,” snarked Lorne. “Jack, meet Lindsey. Lindsey, this is Jack. Unfortunately you boys don’t have time for a get acquainted drink - or anything else. Lindsey, nice to see you, but goodbye.”
Lindsey blushed but held Jack’s gaze. “Actually, Jack is the reason I’m here.” He turned to Lorne. “The Senior Partners know there’s a new player in town and they want him on their team - voluntarily is not a requirement.”
Jack looked confused. “Senior partners?”
Lorne sighed. “Oh, Cupcake. You remember that law firm I mentioned? Lindsey, here, is trying to be a former employee.”
“The firm Ms. Morgan works for?” asked Jack, pulling out the card she’d given him. “Wolfram and Hart.”
Lindsey looked like he was going to faint. “They’ve already been in touch? They won’t take no for an answer. You didn’t say yes?”
“Uh, no. Definitely did not say yes. I’ve got plans and they don’t include working for lawyers until the day I die.”
Lindsey just smiled a nasty smile. “Just to be clear on that; you wouldn’t actually be working until the day you died. The ‘in perpetuity’ clause guarantees you’ll be working for them after death, too. Once you sign, there’s no turning back.”
Jack looked skeptical. “But you’re some kind of exception to the rule? Or didn’t you sign that kind of contract?”
“Oh, I signed it, but I’ll find a way out.”
Lorne interrupted. “I really hate to cut in on this renegades bonding moment, but if you’re found in my humble little establishment…”
"They're not looking for me - well, they are but not here." Lindsey grinned. "It's a masking spell; it took effect at the airport a few hours ago. Wolfram and Hart will be busy using their resources to check flights and possible destinations. They'll be staking out the terminals in case I'm taking a later flight."
Lorne whistled in admiration. "Very sneaky, my little fox, but that won't fool them for long."
"Doesn't have to. I stay out of sight until noonish and then I'm gone."
Lorne looked pensive for a moment. "I suppose you want to use this as your hideout?"
"You've got to admit, no one will expect it. I mean, you're a friend of Angel's and, well, I'm not." Lindsey flexed his hand, which Jack noted looked somehow newer than the other.
Lorne was reluctant to put his livelihood at risk. "There'll be hell to pay if Angel decides to stop by--"
"Not going to happen. He's got his own issues to deal with right now," Lindsey assured him.
Lorne did not feel particularly reassured. Whenever his Angelcakes had issues, he always dragged them into Caritas.
Although Jack was uncertain about the subtext in that conversation, he decided to speak up for Lindsey. Jack always went with his gut, and right now it was telling him the guy was on the level. "He can crash in my bed for a few hours."
The other two men jumped slightly at the intrusion, clearly having forgotten Jack until that moment. Lorne and Lindsey turned to look at Jack - Lorne with amusement and Lindsey with speculation.
Jack blinked. "Not like that! I didn't mean - I..." He glared at Lorne who started to snigger, and at Lindsey who pouted. "Knock it off, you guys. I just meant that I had some stuff to work on and the bed would be available for a few hours."
Lindsey looked at Lorne. "If it's okay with you, I could do with some sleep."
Lorne bowed his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You are out of here by noon."
"Understood."
"You will go to sleep or at least stay hidden, and when you leave--"
"Lorne, not even you will see me leave."
"Fine. But I'm holding you to that. Jack, could you...?"
Jack patted Lorne on the shoulder. "No problem. Lindsey?"
Lorne watched the two men walk back towards his private quarters. He really hoped he wasn't making a mistake. Lorne listened to them chat as they went before he headed to the office. The night's receipts were not going to count themselves.
--- - ---
Upstairs, Jack fussed a bit tidying the bed covers. "I wasn't expecting company."
Lindsey grinned slightly. "Don't fuss on my account. All I need is a corner to curl up in."
Giving the blankets a final pat, Jack stepped back. "There you go. Do you need anything?"
"I'm good. Thanks." Lindsey kicked off his shoes and pulled his shirt loose from the waistband of his jeans. He noticed Jack standing by the bed, watching his every move. "Do you need anything?"
Jack grinned, not at all embarrassed about being caught watching. "I need lots of things," he said.
Lindsey blushed a bit but continued undressing. He popped the button on his jeans and turned away from Jack as he slid them down over lean muscled thighs. Jack enjoyed the view as nicely rounded buttocks came into view, even if they were still covered in briefs.
Lindsey settled onto the bed and tossed the blanket over his lower body, leaving his chest bare. Jack couldn't help but admire the picture Lindsey made.
Lindsey in turn was mesmerized by Jack, the way his admittedly attractive body was at once relaxed and yet still ready for action. There was an element of danger about the man that was damnably appealing.
Jack cleared his throat. "I'll, uh, I'll just let you get some rest. You want a wake-up call?"
"I doubt I'll sleep, but maybe you could make sure I'm up before noon?"
Jack nodded and left with obvious reluctance. He went in search of Lorne.
"Sleeping beauty all tucked in?" asked Lorne.
Jack grinned. "He seems kind of tense. I'm not sure how much sleep he'll actually get, but, yeah, he's all tucked in."
"That boy is headed for trouble," said Lorne. "There's a vibe that just makes me want to cry."
"Have you done that song thing for him? Maybe you can set him on the right path."
"I've told him. What's coming is dark and he's heading right into the heart of it. I don't know what he's planning, but it's not good. I just wish..." Lorne sighed. "There's still light inside him, but it's getting fainter. I've warned him, but, well it's all about free choice, right? Or maybe it's actually destiny and he has to do what he has to do no matter what the consequences are."
"One of the things that's kept me alive this long is that I go with my gut in certain situations. My gut says he's an okay guy," offered Jack.
Lorne smiled sadly. "Yes, he is. I can't help but wonder what would have happened if Wolfram and Hart hadn't taken such an interest in him."
Both men were quiet for a while. Jack pointed to the inventory sheet. "Want some help with that?"
"I thought you were going to work on, you know," he said, pointing toward the roof.
"To tell you the truth, my friend, I've done all I can. Some of the things I need either haven't been invented yet, or the materials haven't been discovered. And in this reality, who knows if it'll ever happen."
"Jack, you're not giving up, are you?" Lorne was aghast.
"Not giving up, exactly. I just don't know what to do next." Jack sighed. "Maybe I need a break, you know, come at this from a different angle."
"Well, I don't think inventory is what you need, but I won't say no to the help. Paperwork is not why I got into this gig."
Jack accepted the forms and a pencil and went to work, leaving Lorne to finish counting the receipts. It never failed to amuse and bemuse Lorne that the government could vehemently deny the existence of all things demon, but still expect to collect taxes from said demon-based businesses.
A few hours later, Jack quietly entered his bedroom. He paused just inside the room to watch Lindsey sleep. Jack wondered what twists the future would hold for his truly beautiful man. He knew from experience that the exterior was not always a true indicator of what was inside a person, but still, he found it difficult to believe that Lindsey was headed to ruin.
Jack stealthily approached the bed, but had not gone more than a couple of steps before Lindsey suddenly sat up, eyes wide and searching for danger.
Jack immediately held up his hands in a non-threatening manner. "Whoa, now. Take it easy. It's 11:30. You asked for a wake-up call, remember?"
Lindsey scrubbed his hands over his face. "Yeah. Thanks." He looked around. "Do you think I've got time for a shower? I told Lorne I'd be out of here by noon."
Jack smiled encouragingly. "I'm sure it won't be a problem. I'll just be downstairs. Say goodbye before you go?"
Lindsey just gave him a half nod and headed toward the bathroom.
Barely twenty minutes later, he went downstairs and was surprised to find Lorne waiting for him. He was shocked when Lorne walked up to him and hugged him.
“Take care of yourself. You know what’ll happen if they find you," Lorne whispered to Lindsey.
Lindsey pulled away and gave him a half-grin. “I’m going on the theory that it’s harder to hit a moving target. Don’t worry, I’ve got a plan.”
“Machiavelli you’re not,” Lorne told him, red eyes dulling somewhat with worry. Visibly pulling himself together, Lorne made a shooing motion with his hands. “Now, scat before anyone else shows up.”
Lindsey moved toward the back exist, but stopped and looked at Jack. “The Senior Partners won’t give up, you know. When they want something they will move Hell itself to get it - and right now, what they want, is you.” He smiled and offered, “You could come with me.”
Jack returned his smile. “Tempting. Very tempting, but…” he shook his head with real regret.
“I know, but I had to ask, just in case.” Lindsey took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “Lorne, I’ll see you again. That's a promise."
Lorne smiled sadly.
Lindsey smiled back just as sadly before glancing at Jack. He reached into the front pocket of his jeans and pulled out a small object. He tossed it to Jack, saying, "I think this might help you with...whatever. It's a one-shot thing, so use it wisely."
And then he was gone. Jack and Lorne looked at the place where Lindsey had been standing, then looked at each other. There was nothing to indicate that Lindsey had actually been there.
Except for the small object Jack was now holding.
Jack opened his hands to see what he it was. It was an amulet of some sort. He didn't recognize the design, but it appeared to be quite old. Lorne snatched it from him and Jack watched his eyes almost glow in excitement.
"I wasn't expecting this. I don't think anyone could have expected this," Lorne said, his voice hushed. "Not to get your hopes up or anything, Dorothy, but you may be going back to Kansas after all."
Jack took back the amulet, turning it in the light to better examine the writing on it. "This is going to solve my problem?"
"There are things more powerful than science, my friend. What you are holding is the key to major mojo. The being this belongs to is the stuff of legends. I've only seen drawings of this, but...Jack, you are holding something so powerful that entire civilizations would destroy each other to possess it."
Jack looked skeptical. "So, why did Lindsey give it to me?"
Lorne looked nonplussed for a moment. "I think he may have, uh, liberated this from Wolfram and Hart's vaults. Giving it to you was a way to get back at them. They lose a valuable power source, and, possibly lose you at the same time." Lorne shook his head. "Of course, there will be consequences."
"You mean these lawyers are going to be looking for it?"
"Well, yes, that, too. But I mean that there's a catch when it comes to using this." Lorne looked serious enough to spook Jack. "No one wields this kind of power out of the goodness of their hearts. There will be a price."
"Like what?"
"That's the risk. No one actually knows until it's too late to back out."
"I'm willing to take the risk. How do we contact this guy?"
"Just call him. That amulet is kind of like a pager." Lorne pointed to the engraving on the back of the amulet. "All you have to do is recite this and he - or maybe he's a she? Anyway, just recite this and the owner will appear."
Jack squinted at the writing and muttered to himself as he tried to read the inscription.
"Stop!" Lorne yelled, snatching it back. “Don't do that until we're ready. You heard Lindsey; it's a one-shot deal. Screw this up and there won’t be a second chance."
Jack was confused. "So how do we know it's still good? Maybe it's a dud."
Lorne gave him a patient look. "The fact that it's here means it isn't a dud. Once it's been used, it disappears and reappears another time and another place. Once means once."
"So, what now," asked Jack.
"Now, you go back to your drawing board. Be very specific about what you need. Then get everything ready to go. Once the incantation is spoken everything will move fast."
Jack stared at Lorne. "I'm going home?"
Lorne hesitated. "Maybe. Yeah. There's only one way to know for sure, right?"
Jack stared intently at Lorne. "When do you want to do this?"
Lorne frowned. "I think the sooner the better. It's just not possible to call on this kind of power and have it overlooked by certain types of people, like say, a firm of evil lawyers. Our best shot is to do this while they're distracted by Mr. McDonald's sudden disappearance."
Jack was stunned. Home. He'd do pretty much anything to get back to his own universe. Even believe in magic.
The next few days passed in a blur of activity. At Lorne’s urging, Jack meticulously went over every detail of what was needed to make his ship fully functional - every calculation, every bit of not-yet-invented technology, every scrap of material not known in this world was noted.
The ship was space-worthy, sort of, but he had no way to break orbit. Hell, he’d be lucky to coax enough power to get off the roof.
Once the preparations were set, Jack had to wait to activate, for wont of a better word, the amulet. Lorne said the conditions had to be just right and insisted that would not happen for another two weeks. In the meantime, Jack continued to work behind the bar as though he had no other place to be.
A week later, an unexpected visit from the formidable Ms Morgan had Jack hiding in the shadows near the storeroom. Fortunately, her focus seemed to be on someone tall, dark and totally depressing.
Jack had never actually met Angel, but had observed him on his many visits to Caritas. The first time he'd seen the man, Angel had been mostly hidden in shadows and all he could see was a glimpse of dark leather encasing broad shoulders. It was only when Angel had moved into the light that he realized the man bore no resemblance at all to the Doctor.
Jack watched as Ms Morgan tried to use flirtation to sway Angel to whatever point she was trying to make.
Lorne sidled up to Jack. “You don't like him much do you, Sweet Cheeks?”
Jack was startled by the green demon’s sudden appearance. He turned a carefree smile on the host. “I haven't actually met him, so I can't really say one way or the other.”
“But you avoid him,” Lorne pointed out.
Jack shrugged. “There's something about the guy - he gives off very strong 'stay away' vibes.”
“It’s his cloak of doom and gloom,” Lorne sighed. “I’ve told him he’ll never make any friends if he doesn’t lighten up.”
Jack looked back out into the bar, noting Angel was now alone and looking even more depressed than usual. “I take it this isn't a social call?” said Jack, nodding towards Angel’s location.
Lorne sighed. “I wish.”
Jack winced. “He's going to sing, isn't he?”
“I’m afraid so. Apparently there's still more Manilow to be mangled.” Lorne sighed yet again. “I think I need a drink first. What do you say?” He glanced back at Jack, but found he was talking to an empty space. Jack was already at the emergency exit.
Two days before he was to leave, Jack was joined by an unusually skittish Fred. Jack pretended to work on calculations while covertly watching Fred wander around the work space. He smiled when she stopped beside his ship and began to pet the hull.
“She likes you, too,” said Jack, amusement evident in his tone.
Fred jumped at the sound of his voice, but did not stop what she was doing. “It’s like...like I can actually feel her. When we were working on the engine, it was like I had my hands inside a living thing.” Fred blushed. “Sounds kind of silly, huh?”
“Not at all. Some of the circuits have an organic base, and the programming includes a basic personality matrix - it gets kinda lonely out there sometimes with no one to talk to.” Jack grinned. “A pilot needs to rely on his ship, just like the ship depends on her pilot. It’s kind of like a marriage.”
Fred giggled and lifted her hand away from the hull. “Well, I wouldn’t want to be responsible for a divorce or anything.”
“Like I said, she likes you. In fact, she’d probably be open to a three-way.” He leered playfully at Fred, delighting in making her blush even more.
“Oh, you. You’re so bad!”
Jack got up and swaggered toward her. “But I’m so good at it.”
Fred evaded him and leaned against the work table. She reached out and began shuffling the papers around. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”
Jack sighed. “Fred…”
“The last couple of visits, we haven’t done any serious work, just, you know, fiddly little things.” She turned toward him. “I didn’t really want to think about it, but I just know it’s true.”
Jack didn’t even think of lying. “I’m leaving.”
“But the-the fuel thing hasn’t been figured out, and the calculations clearly show...op-optimizing velocity won’t happen with…” Fred hesitated, quickly swiping at the tears running down her cheeks. “You’re not ready to try yet, and I’m not ready for you to leave, either.”
Pulling Fred into a tight embrace, Jack shushed her, gently rubbing small circles along her back as she cried.
“I have to try, honey. Things are spiraling out of control and some very unfriendly types are closing in.” He pressed a light kiss against her temple. “If I don’t try, then things are going to get very ugly, and the people I’ve come to care about might get caught in the crossfire.”
Fred pulled back and looked up at him. “It’s those lawyers, right? That lady lawyer scares me,” she whispered.
“She scares me, too,” he whispered back, tightening his arms around her. “Come with me, little one.”
Jack was shocked when the words left his mouth, but now that the words had been spoken, he realized that he really did want her to leave with him.
“You-you mean when you go? As in go home?”
“Sure. Why not?” He smiled his most winning smile. “Think about the possibilities. There are whole other worlds to explore - you could visit different eras, history and future.”
Excitement and wonder dawned in Fred’s eyes.
Jack leaned in and whispered in her ear. “Think of the scientific wonders - light years ahead of the here and now - all the wonders of the universe for you to explore. Just say yes.”
Fred glanced over at the time ship, a dreamy expression on her face. “Kind of like running away to join the circus or something. See the world, see the universe.”
“Whatever you can imagine, and even things you can’t. It could all be yours,” he cajoled.
Fred hugged Jack tight for a moment before loosening her embrace. “Sounds like a dream come true. I really wish I could.”
Jack knew he would be leaving alone. Again. “But you can,” he said, almost pleading.
She shook her head. “No, I really can’t. There wouldn’t be any coming back, not to live, not even to visit.”
Jack didn’t offer any false promises. She was right; this was likely a one-way trip. Assuming the ship actually went anywhere.
“So, you’re not even tempted, huh?” asked Jack.
Fred grinned back at him. “It really is tempting, but, well, I just got home again and...”
“I get it.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Maybe someday, somehow, I’ll be able to come back for you.”
“I’d like that. I’d like that a whole lot. And I promise to say yes.”
“See you around, kiddo,” he said, and let her go. It wasn’t until much later that he realized Fred hadn’t asked exactly how he was leaving.
“Plausible deniability,” he murmured to his ship. Smart girl. Damn. I’m going to miss you so much.
~~~~ ~ ~~~~
“What crawled in that bottle and died?” exclaimed Jack, backing away from Lorne.
“Oh suck it up, Buttercup. It’s not that bad,” Lorne chided while holding the bottle as far away from his own face as possible. “I’ll have you know this is a rare blend of powerful herbs and other, uh, things, from no fewer than five different dimensions.”
“I am not drinking that!”
“I should hope not. It’s used for marking anchor points, not drinking.”
Jack looked relieved. “So, you’re going to paint that on the floor or something?”
Lorne’s enthusiastic grin unnerved Jack.
~~~~ ~ ~~~~
Jack sat inside the silent ship, on the floor within a painted circle. He was alone and half naked, swaying slightly as he repeated the hypnotic chant that would summon the being - oh, all right, demon - that might help him get home. A chalice sat in front of him, light from some kind of chemical reaction flickering eerily within it.
Jack’s skin itched where the foul-smelling liquid had been painted on him in a series of complex patterns. Despite the stench, Lorne seemed to enjoy wielding the soft brush all over Jack’s body. Jack had to admit he’d found the sensation somewhat arousing and regretted never moving beyond flirtation with his delightful green friend. The hug Lorne gave him hinted that he may have felt the same.
A sudden burning raced across his skin as the painted patterns began to glow. The room seemed to spin and tilt with increasing speed until Jack felt that he would black out.
“Speak.”
Jack jerked in shock and almost knocked over the chalice. He scanned the area, looking for whoever or whatever had spoken.
“Speak.”
Jack focused on a spot in deepest shadows, trying to see who was there. As he watched, a robed figure seemed to float toward him. The features were indistinct, blurred as undecided whether or not to even exist.
Although gripped by an intense feeling of dread, Jack managed a fairly cocky smile. “Uh, hello there. Captain Jack Harkness at your serv--”
“What are you?”
Jack frowned, startled by the question. “I’m human,” he replied cautiously. “What are you?”
The robed being ignored him. He - it? - looked around the ship before focusing on Jack once more. Something in his mysterious visitor’s demeanor hinted at puzzlement.
“Tell me, you who call yourself human, what is the desire of your heart?”
Jack began to stand but suddenly found himself pushed back onto the floor, the strange being looming over him. Something that may have been hand-like rested on his head.
Agony ripped through Jack when something bore through his skull and into his brain. Unable to draw breath enough to scream, Jack simply tried to endure.
Suddenly, images flashed behind closed eyes. Scenes of cons and scams merged with his childhood, his service with the time agency - lossangerbetrayal-hatehurthatevengacemakethempay-neverstop-whywhywhy! Pain seemed to explode in his chest when other images and emotions broke through - doctortardisjealousrosesweet-doctorrosewantneedfamily-feardaleksfearpaindark-doctorrosegoneforgotten-whywhywhy
Jack gasped. He was lying outside the circle. The robed figure floated inside the circle holding the chalice. “You amuse me. Go. Seek the desire of your heart. In time, I will collect your sacrifice.” An eerie screech filled the interior of ship.
Before Jack could react, his skin began to burn, wisps of smoke drifting on a nonexistent breeze. The symbols painted on his body glowed bright red and the smell of burning flesh assailed his nostrils. He was barely conscious of the robed visitor flinging the contents of the chalice around the ship. His entire being was focused on his pain - it burned like nothing he’d ever experienced, worse even than the Dalek blast. dyingdyingpainheatpainhothothot
He felt like he was being roasted alive, which was probably pretty close to the truth given his proximity to the sun.
Please, God, any god, let this work.
Reaching to his left, he hit the execute button and then braced himself. Trying to use the sun's energy to power his borrowed time ship was either extremely brilliant or - oh fuck - the ship began an uncontrolled roll.
He watched with an oddly detached feeling as his ship began to phase out, even as the sun's gravitational pull began pulling it apart. He was almost surprised when the ship seemed to snap back together.
Huh. It worked. Needs a bit of tweaking, though. I wonder--
The chatter over the communicator warned him he wasn’t out of the woods yet. No one knew for sure whether he’d survived, but the consensus seemed to be that he’d either been burned up in the sun or had managed a jump. A quick scan - odd that the communicator seemed to be working again - revealed no one was close enough to intercept him. Jack took this as his cue and made his escape, thankful that his ship was once more operational.
Safely hidden away from his pursuers, he finally took time to rest. Strange images haunted his dreams and he woke more tired than when he’d first gone to sleep. Jack was unable to shake the vivid dreams and found himself occasionally running his hands over his chest, phantom pain burning a pattern into his skin. There was nothing there, but it reminded him of...something.
Jack pushed aside this oddity and focused on his plans. He had to find the Doctor and Rose. He needed to know why they’d abandoned him. He desperately needed to know what had really happened on the Game Station.
He didn’t care if he had to travel from one end of the universe to the other to get answers, even if it took forever.
-END-
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
--- Robert Frost