Help Haiti Fic: Seeing Face To Face
Story: Seeing Face To Face
Author: wmr/ wendymr
Characters: Ninth Doctor, Jack Harkness (Pete's World)
Universe: Through A Glass Darkly
Rated: PG13
Summary: It's time. He has to go and see the lad
Written for yamx in return for a very generous donation to disaster relief in Haiti as a result of the help_haiti community fundraising efforts. I'm so sorry that it's taken me so long to finish this! I hope it's close to what you wanted. With very many thanks to dark_aegis for BRing skills.
Note: This story is part of the Through a Glass Darkly universe. Chronologically, it comes before the other two stories in this series ( The Beholder's Eye and Through A Glass Darkly), but some things may be clearer if you have read Through A Glass Darkly.
Seeing Face to Face
Had a bit of a hiccup when he regenerated again - took a bit of persuading to make him realise what he looked like made no difference to me.
- Jack, in Through a Glass Darkly
He can’t put it off any longer. It’s time. He has to go and see the lad.
It’s been close to two years, by his own timeline, since he regenerated; more than long enough for him to be used to this body, gangly limbs, prominent nose, flapping ears and all. Even the voice, the rough Northern English accent something entirely new for him.
Funny how his bodies have all had British accents of some kind or other - well, apart from when speaking Gallifreyan. He knew, back when Gallifrey still existed, Time Lords whose non-Gallifreyan-speaking accents sounded American, Japanese or even Omega Centaurean, and for whom regeneration could mean something completely different again.
He’s used to this body now, yes, but Jack hasn’t seen this him yet.
It’s ridiculous, really, that he’s so fussed about this. It’s never bothered him before how a companion might react to his regeneration. Not that Jack’s a companion, of course, but still - someone he knows. But this is ridiculous. The lad’s seen him in three different regenerations so far. Why should this one be any different?
Yeah, right. If that’s really what he thinks, then why hasn’t he gone to see Jack long ago? Because he wasn’t sleeping with the bloke last time he regenerated. And if there’s one thing he knows about Jack’s mating habits, it’s that he’s always drawn to the attractive ones - male or female. This relationship’s been no different: it wasn’t until he turned into a pretty boy that Jack made a move on him.
Ah well. It’s not as if it was ever going to last, anyway.
The Doctor grunts and sets the coordinates to locate Jack’s wrist computer. Best get it over with.
***
Under cover of taking a sip of his drink, Jack surveys the crowded bar. It’s packed tonight with freight vessels’ crew on shore leave, all on the look-out for some action. This is a great place to find company for an hour or two, and used to be one of his favourite hangouts for that reason.
At the other end of the bar, an attractive woman is trying to catch his eye, all dark curls and long eyelashes. Just a year or two ago, he’d already be sauntering down to join her, practising his first line so he could achieve completely spontaneous delivery.
A year or two ago? Yeah, right. Try four years ago.
Next to the Doctor, everyone here looks... insignificant. But then, how could anyone else measure up to a legend? He’s under no illusions about how privileged he’s been to have the Doctor as his friend and mentor for the past fifteen or so years. Or, now, to be allowed to be his lover.
It won’t last, of course - and even now it’s only an occasional thing, whenever the Doctor drops in to see him. Always used to be once a year or so, and then they’d spend a couple of weeks together, travelling in the TARDIS. Though, admittedly, it’s been a bit more often than that since they’ve been fuck-buddies as well as friends.
He downs the rest of his beer, stifling the irony-filled laugh that threatens to surface at the description he’s just used. Fuck-buddies. Yeah. That’s what it is for the Doctor, no doubt, as full of puppyish enthusiasm and affection in bed as he is out. Friends with a little added extra on the side - an arrangement he’s normally perfectly happy with.
Except this time it’s more, for him at any rate. He was stupid enough to go and fall in love.
Jack signals the barman and orders another beer, then hesitates and glances towards the woman at the other end of the bar again. “And another of whatever she’s drinking,” he adds, having to shout to be heard over the loud music and conversation. What’s the point in sitting on his own like a lovesick teenager, after all? He hasn’t forgotten how to flirt, anyway - or lost the enjoyment he always gets from having someone respond to him when he does.
His beer arrives, and moments later the woman sends a beaming - and inviting - smile his way as she picks up the drink he’s just bought her. He smiles back, sensual and practised, and begins to make his way over to her, bottle in his hand.
And then he stops, the sensation of being watched sending warning tingles around the back of his neck.
Slowly, he glances around, casually enough so that it’ll just look like he’s trying to find a safe path through the packed bar.
There. Over near the door, so clearly he’s just come in. It’s no-one he recognises, which immediately raises his guard. A threat, or a harmless guy who just likes the look of him? No, that stare was too deliberate.
The guy’s looking away now, studying some point over the bar counter with far too much attention to be anything other than pretence. Still, it gives Jack the freedom to assess him. Not a guy who gives a damn what anyone thinks of him, that much is obvious: that battered jacket and woollen jumper couldn’t be more different from the high fashions and typical bar-hopping outfits everyone else - including himself - is wearing. And the close-cropped hair, which does nothing to hide the man’s elephant-ears. Not conventionally good-looking, by any means, but there’s a magnetism to him, on top of his don’t give a damn attitude that makes it hard to look away.
Heat curls inside him. He hasn’t been this turned on in a long time. Not since...
The guy’s head turns, and he finds himself looking directly into grey-blue eyes, and a intense stare that he can’t fail to recognise even in spite of the unfamiliar face. His heart leaps, then skips a beat, and he switches direction, edging his way over towards the door. On the way, he brushes away a moment’s regret for the laughing man with chestnut curls; it’s not as if he hasn’t seen several times over that the Doctor’s still the Doctor regardless of the wrapping.
He stops about three feet away, and the man just looks at him, an expression Jack’s going to have to learn to read on his face. So it’s like that, huh?
He smiles slowly. “Hello, Doctor.”
“Jack.” The Doctor sounds surprised. Idiot. He should know by now that Jack will always know who he is. There’s warmth in those new eyes - but also wariness. Damn. Well, it’s not as if he didn’t already know that with every new body comes at least some personality changes, and changes in preferences. Like no sugar in his tea, or liking bananas instead of pears.
Or no longer wanting to shag his best friend.
Just like ripping off a plaster, the best way is get straight to the point. Then at least he’ll know one way or another.
He dumps the bottle on a nearby table, closes the gap between them, takes the Doctor’s face between his, and takes his lover’s lips in a warm, demanding kiss.
***
Feels completely different, kissing Jack in this new body. Funny, that. Never occurred to him that he’d notice it. Still good, though. Just different.
He shouldn’t read too much into the kiss, though. It is practically how Jack says hello, after all. Doesn’t mean that he’s going to be willing to pick up where they left off.
Jack ends the kiss, pulling back to look at him. The boy’s face is full of questions, though that’s hardly surprising. What is surprising is that Jack isn’t asking any of them. Though this place is hardly the best for that kind of conversation.
“Want to get out of here?” he asks.
Jack pulls a wry grimace. “Was just about to suggest it.”
He hesitates for a moment, remembering what he saw before Jack realised he was being observed. “Not interruptin’ anything, am I? Saw you had a friend over there.” He nods his head towards the far end of the bar.
“No-one I know,” Jack says instantly, his complete lack of interest in the attractive woman who was smiling at him apparent in his voice. “Let’s go.”
A casual pick-up, then. Not that what Jack does, or who he sees, when they’re not together is any of his business. What they have isn’t an exclusive relationship, and neither of them have wanted anything different. Doesn’t make sense, anyway, when they only see each other occasionally.
Even still, he’s strangely relieved that Jack’s not involved with the woman.
Outside, they’re plunged into sudden silence as well as darkness, and for a moment he has no idea what to say or do. Stupid, that. He’s known Jack for hundreds of years in his timeline. Never felt awkward around the lad before, so why start now?
“Your place or mine?” Jack asks, and he hears uncertainty in his friend’s voice too. So it’s not just him.
He’s about to suggest Jack’s flat - they spent a lot of time there in his last regeneration - but hesitates. This might be easier on his own territory, for one thing. For another, if Jack’s with him it’ll lessen the temptation to flight. Can’t exactly run away from the bloke if Jack’s on the TARDIS as well. “Mine.”
Jack’s smile, visible in the light cast by the bar’s neon sign, is his reward. “Fine by me.”
The TARDIS is only just down the road, in a small alcove between buildings - less than two minutes’ walk, certainly not enough time to start any kind of serious conversation. They walk in silence, though he catches Jack casting him occasional glances as they go. Only to be expected, really, and didn’t he do exactly the same the first time they met after his previous regenerations?
A raucous group spills out of another bar, heading in his and Jack’s direction without looking. “Hey!” Jack exclaims.
“Fuck you, ape,” one of them replies with a sneer.
“Yeah, get back to the jungle,” says another, making an obscene gesture.
Jack ignores them, picking up his pace to get past them. Catching up, the Doctor says, “What was that all about?”
Jack shrugs. “It’s nothing. Forget it.”
“Ape? Jungle?” His eyes widen. “That’s not nothing.”
“They’re just drunk. It’s not important.”
He drops it, because Jack wants him to. Not as if it’s not easy to figure out, anyway. Jack’s from Schattenwelt, and the original inhabitants of that planet, before it was settled by humans several generations back, were simian in appearance. No, the only question here is whether this is a frequent occurrence - and, judging by Jack’s complete lack of surprise at the insults, he’d guess it is.
Something else to talk about later, then.
“On your own, then?” Jack asks as they reach the TARDIS.
“Yeah. Did have someone with me, but she went home,” he says with a shrug. They all do, sooner or later, and he’s all right with that. There’s not many who can take this life for more than a few months, or a year or two, at a time. Even Jack wants to get back to his human life after a few weeks away.
Jack’s hand lands on his shoulder. “You should pick up someone else. You know I don’t like seeing you travelling alone.”
“Could come with me, then, couldn’t you?” But it’s not really a serious suggestion, and they both know it.
It’s Jack’s turn to shrug. “Might, some day. You never know.”
That’s new. He raises an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
“Who knows? Can’t be a Time Agent for ever. Besides, someone’s got to stop you running through your lives.”
“Oi! I’ll have you know I had that last body for almost a hundred of your years.” Though is Jack actually worrying about losing him, or does he want to get away from the kind of crap they’ve just encountered?
“A hundred. Right.” Jack presses his hand against the TARDIS door. “And I saw you... what, half a dozen times?”
“Eight or nine,” he corrects. Though he knows the number exactly; it’s actually ten, if he counts the time he left and then came back, after the first time Jack kissed him, as two visits. He’s never told Jack, and doesn’t intend to, but these visits are carefully rationed. Humans and their fleeting lifespans; how do they manage? “Anyway, come in if you’re comin’.”
The moment of truth, this, really. How much are things going to change?
***
Inside, Jack looks around, eyes widening. “You redecorated again.”
The Doctor’s expression suggests he doesn’t even notice the difference. “Didn’t really think wood an’ brass was my thing any more.”
“No?” He raises one eyebrow, watching the Doctor, who’s gone over to the console. “So is there anything else that’s not your thing any more?”
“Eh?” The Doctor frowns, looking puzzled.
Jack splays his hands expressively; just like with the kiss earlier, he might as well get straight to the point. The kiss was promising, definitely; but that’s still no guarantee. “Look, I have so many questions for you. But I’m gonna start with the selfish one.” His grin turns sensual; he’s pulling out all the stops tonight, but then, it’s never mattered so much. “Is this you still gonna let me shag you?”
A slow - and is that relieved? - smile spreads across the Doctor’s face. “I might, at that. Depends. You still gonna let me shag you?”
Yes, that’s definitely relief. “You thought I wouldn’t?”
The Doctor’s face is answer enough, though he immediately looks away and starts fussing with the controls.
Jack lets out a slow breath, relief mingling with bemusement. Why on earth would the Doctor think he’d want things to change?
The old Earth saying, actions speak louder than words, comes to mind just as he’s about to convince the Doctor how badly he does want their relationship to continue. Suits him; he’s always been a man of action, after all.
Three paces take him to the Doctor, and before the Time Lord can say a word he takes his lover’s face between his palms and kisses him a second time, this time with every bit as much passion as any time they’ve been in bed together.
It really is like kissing a different man. It’s not just that the Doctor’s lips, tongue, teeth have all changed, or even that they’re the same height now so he doesn’t need to bend his head, but the way the Doctor kisses is different, too. He’s rougher, more demanding, more willing to take the lead away from Jack - and he’s got no complaints at all about that.
When he breaks the kiss, he’s more than a little satisfied to see that the Doctor’s pupils are dilated.
The Doctor’s comment tells him he’s not yet managed to convince him. “Should’ve known you’d be curious. Bed, then?”
Curious? Is that all he thinks it is?
He takes the Doctor’s hand firmly in his and leads his lover into the TARDIS interior, to the room he’s shared with the Doctor during the few times he travelled on the ship since they started this relationship. He’ll show the Doctor curious - and he’ll make damn sure the guy enjoys it every bit as much as he’s going to.
***
Jack’s thorough; he has to give the lad that. There’s not an inch of his body that’s remained unexplored. And, even if he says so himself, he thinks this new him’s not half bad when it comes to sex. Got a few new tricks up his sleeve Jack wasn’t expecting - not that he complained. In fact, the bloke’s collapsed on the pillows, one of the biggest smiles the Doctor’s ever seen on his face.
He’s got the strongest urge to ask if it was as good for Jack as he suspects. But he resists. Maybe the last him did stuff like that, but this him’s different. And besides, one thing he’s not gonna do is start his reacquaintance with Jack off by sounding needy. If Jack does want to go back to a platonic relationship - the last hour notwithstanding - he’s not going to make it hard for the lad.
The bedsprings move; Jack’s turned and is now lying on his side, staring at the Doctor. And staring.
All right, it’s not as if he hasn’t seen the nose himself. And the ears. And, while he’s had time to get used to them, Jack hasn’t.
All the same, he really can do without the staring.
“So, you said you had questions?” Anything’s got to be better than just lying here as an object of curiosity - and, while he could just get up and dressed, that probably wouldn’t go down too well.
“Yeah.” Jack leans up on an elbow. “How did it happen? And why did it take you so long to come and see me?”
He raises an eyebrow and stares down his nose at Jack. “Which did you want me to answer first?”
Should’ve realised the lad wouldn’t be intimidated. He just grins. “I’d have thought a genius Time Lord like you could hold two questions in your head for long enough to answer them.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He smiles back; hard not to when Jack’s grinning like that. Sliding into a sitting position, he asks, “Ever been to Xerfixor?”
“Not for a while. Nice place, mostly. The Five Lakes of Sorxix are worth seeing. So...?”
“So I decided to take a look at the lakes. Arrived just in time for the civil war of Twenty-Apple-Forty-five.”
“Huh?” Jack frowns. “There was no civil war of Twenty-Apple-Forty-five.”
“Exactly.” He shrugs. “I sorted it. Trouble was, just before I did, one side booby-trapped a nuclear power-plant. It was gonna go into meltdown unless someone went in and shut it down.”
“A suicide mission, in other words.” Jack’s brows are drawn together, and he’s angry.
“Could put it like that, yeah. Anyway, so that’s how it happened.”
“Had to be you, right?” This time he’s resigned.
He shrugs again. “Who else? Least I was gonna come out of it alive.”
“True.” Jack strokes his palm lightly down the Doctor’s chest. “Suppose I can’t argue with that.” He pulls a face. “No radiation suits on the TARDIS?”
“None strong enough.” He pauses an instant. “So, yeah, that’s why I look like this now.”
“I’m not complaining.” Again, that steady appraisal. “Oh, sure, I’ll miss running my fingers through those curls of yours, but there are compensations.”
He leaves that one where it is. “Any other questions?”
Jack gives him a glare. “I’m damn sure you didn’t forget my second one.”
“No,” he acknowledges. “Jack, you know it’s always longer for me than you between visits.”
Jack rolls over until he’s pressed up next to the Doctor’s body, then lays his head on the Doctor’s shoulder. “I know. Got no problem with that. This is different - you regenerated, Doctor. Don’t you think I’d have wanted to know?”
“It’s not a big deal. Done it eight times now, remember.”
“Yeah, and three since I’ve known you. You never left it so long before.”
Interesting that Jack’s not bringing up the one point the Doctor was sure he would: that them being lovers should have entitled Jack to more consideration. Because he thinks it won’t get him anywhere - or another reason?
“Doctor?” Bugger. Jack’s really pushing this. “Wait a minute. Before, back in the console room... Did you think I’d have a problem with the way you look now?”
He hesitates too long before trying to answer, and Jack curses under his breath. “You did, didn’t you?”
“It’s a perfectly reasonable thing to think!” he protests. “I’ve changed what I look like, so why wouldn’t your attraction to me change?”
“You actually thought what you look like would make a difference to me? Idiot.” Jack cuffs him lightly. “Don’t you get it? I love you whatever face you’re wearing. Always have.”
“But you didn’t...” Want me. “...before. Not until my last regeneration.”
Jack laughs. “Didn’t dare try it before, you mean. In case you’ve forgotten, you were a bit of a cantankerous sod in that body.”
“Bollocks. Nothin’ scares you, even when it should.”
He gets a lopsided grin in response. “I guess... to be honest, I was too young then. Didn’t really see what was in front of me.” Jack exhales hard, and it’s clear that he’s working up to a confession of some sort. He’d stop the lad - they’ve never really gone in for this sort of soul-baring - except that maybe he wants to hear this. “Oh, I hero-worshipped you, you know that. But I wasn’t ready to fall in love with you. Not then.”
Anything he was about to say in response is ripped away from him, along with his breath for a moment. Fall in love? Jack’s in love with him?
And he thought the lad would’ve lost interest now that he’s regenerated again. Shows how wrong he can be
“Jack,” he begins, but then has to halt as the words dry up. What the hell’s he supposed to say to that?
***
Oh, shit. Shit! He never actually meant to say that. Not to the Doctor, the guy who’s never once so much as hinted that the L-word might be part of his vocabulary. Oh, he knows he matters to the Doctor. That’s been apparent as long as they’ve known each other, but shown in actions, never spoken in words.
“Sorry. Forget I said that,” he manages, feeling as if he’s having to choke the words out past the burning in his throat.
The Doctor gives a sudden bark of laughter, and he turns his head quickly to look at the other man. “We’re a right pair, aren’t we, eh?”
“Huh?” What’s that supposed to mean? But the Doctor’s expression isn’t anything like he feared. There’s no disgust or even embarrassment there; just amusement, which seems to be directed at both of them.
“There’s me afraid to show this face to you in case you didn’t want this me, an’ you afraid to tell me you’re in love with me in case I - what? Laugh at you?”
“Or worse,” Jack admits. He makes himself acknowledge the worst-case scenario, now that it’s starting to look like he was spectacularly wrong. “Dump me.”
“Idiot.” The Doctor cuffs him lightly on the side of his head, letting his hand linger to stroke Jack’s hair.
“Takes one to know one,” Jack retorts, catching the Doctor’s hand in his before his lover can withdraw it. New fingers: stronger, less slender than before. This is a workman’s hand, to match the hair and the much plainer choice of clothing. Calloused and rough, yet - as the Doctor’s just proved over the last couple of hours - every bit as capable of driving him crazy with tantalising, clever caresses.
“Yeah.” The Doctor leans closer, presses a kiss to Jack’s lips and gives him a smile, warm and affectionate. It changes his face completely, lighting up those sharp blue-grey eyes and giving him an almost goofy look. Gorgeous, though. So different from his previous face, yet he already loves this new one. “An’ I’m not gonna dump you, by the way. Certainly not for that.” Another kiss. “Thank you.”
It’s the closest the Doctor’s ever going to come to any kind of declaration of affection in return, he knows. But it’s enough. More than enough.
The next second, the Doctor’s leaping out of bed and reaching for his clothes. “Can’t lie around here all day, can we? Things to do, places to go - well, come on, then!”
Right. This regeneration’s obviously not one for sitting back and smelling the flowers, then. He jumps out of bed himself and pulls on his trousers, a wide grin on his face. He’s only just beginning to get to know this new Doctor, and he can’t wait to know him better.
***
“You gonna hang around for a bit or what?” he asks as Jack joins him in the console room. “Been a while since you’ve come with me.”
“Certainly has for you,” Jack retorts with a grin. “Sure, why not? I’ve just started a few days’ leave anyway.”
“Time machine,” he points out with a raised eyebrow.
“That doesn’t always get the time right,” Jack counters with an even wider grin.
“Oi!” he objects as Jack comes to stand by the controls. “No insulting the TARDIS!”
“She knows I love her,” Jack says with a fond smile, stroking his fingertips over the console surface. The TARDIS purrs in response.
“Traitor,” he grunts. Entering a couple of commands, he says, “Where d’you want to go?”
Jack’s gaze meets his, and for a brief instant he sees relief in the younger man’s eyes. “Anywhere that’s not Earth.”
Ah. He chooses a destination and inputs the coordinates. “That ape stuff getting to you?”
A shrug. He holds Jack’s gaze, insisting without words on an answer. Jack pulls a grimace. “It’s getting worse. Never bothered me before - it was only ever someone being a moron, and I could ignore that and just get on with doing my job. But things are changing. There’s more of it around and it’s getting harder to ignore. Even tonight - I’d just bought that woman a drink and I was going over to talk to her, and it occurred to me that with the low lighting she probably hadn’t realised I was Schatten. Couldn’t help wondering if that inviting smile she was sending my way would vanish once she saw me close up.”
The Doctor feels his fists clench. Happens time and time again, all over the universe, doesn’t it? A dominant race, or species, oppresses another, usually for no better reason than that they look different. Too often, it ends in genocide.
For a moment, he thinks of Gallifrey and the Daleks, but brushes it away. Ancient history, and it’s got nothing to do with what’s happening here and now. “You should leave. Why put up with it? Travel with me instead.” Yes, it’d shoot his strategy of spacing out visits to Jack to pieces, but that’s all right. It’d be nice to have the lad as a longer-term companion.
But Jack shakes his head. “Not that I don’t appreciate the offer, but when I do leave - yeah, I’ve thought about it - I’ll go back to ‘Shane.” His fingers drum on the console. “There could be trouble. I’m not sure. Won’t be for a while yet, I think. But if it happens, I’m not gonna get caught on the wrong side.”
Damn. He lays a hand heavily on Jack’s shoulder. “Be careful, all right? And if you need me...”
“Yeah, yeah.” Jack smiles, a careless grin that says louder than words that he wants to change the subject. “Been looking after myself for fifteen years now, Doctor. Anyway, you haven’t told me - where are you taking me?”
Pushing aside his worry for Jack - no point borrowing trouble - he grins. “Anywhere but Earth.”
- end
Author: wmr/ wendymr
Characters: Ninth Doctor, Jack Harkness (Pete's World)
Universe: Through A Glass Darkly
Rated: PG13
Summary: It's time. He has to go and see the lad
Written for yamx in return for a very generous donation to disaster relief in Haiti as a result of the help_haiti community fundraising efforts. I'm so sorry that it's taken me so long to finish this! I hope it's close to what you wanted. With very many thanks to dark_aegis for BRing skills.
Note: This story is part of the Through a Glass Darkly universe. Chronologically, it comes before the other two stories in this series ( The Beholder's Eye and Through A Glass Darkly), but some things may be clearer if you have read Through A Glass Darkly.
Seeing Face to Face
Had a bit of a hiccup when he regenerated again - took a bit of persuading to make him realise what he looked like made no difference to me.
- Jack, in Through a Glass Darkly
He can’t put it off any longer. It’s time. He has to go and see the lad.
It’s been close to two years, by his own timeline, since he regenerated; more than long enough for him to be used to this body, gangly limbs, prominent nose, flapping ears and all. Even the voice, the rough Northern English accent something entirely new for him.
Funny how his bodies have all had British accents of some kind or other - well, apart from when speaking Gallifreyan. He knew, back when Gallifrey still existed, Time Lords whose non-Gallifreyan-speaking accents sounded American, Japanese or even Omega Centaurean, and for whom regeneration could mean something completely different again.
He’s used to this body now, yes, but Jack hasn’t seen this him yet.
It’s ridiculous, really, that he’s so fussed about this. It’s never bothered him before how a companion might react to his regeneration. Not that Jack’s a companion, of course, but still - someone he knows. But this is ridiculous. The lad’s seen him in three different regenerations so far. Why should this one be any different?
Yeah, right. If that’s really what he thinks, then why hasn’t he gone to see Jack long ago? Because he wasn’t sleeping with the bloke last time he regenerated. And if there’s one thing he knows about Jack’s mating habits, it’s that he’s always drawn to the attractive ones - male or female. This relationship’s been no different: it wasn’t until he turned into a pretty boy that Jack made a move on him.
Ah well. It’s not as if it was ever going to last, anyway.
The Doctor grunts and sets the coordinates to locate Jack’s wrist computer. Best get it over with.
***
Under cover of taking a sip of his drink, Jack surveys the crowded bar. It’s packed tonight with freight vessels’ crew on shore leave, all on the look-out for some action. This is a great place to find company for an hour or two, and used to be one of his favourite hangouts for that reason.
At the other end of the bar, an attractive woman is trying to catch his eye, all dark curls and long eyelashes. Just a year or two ago, he’d already be sauntering down to join her, practising his first line so he could achieve completely spontaneous delivery.
A year or two ago? Yeah, right. Try four years ago.
Next to the Doctor, everyone here looks... insignificant. But then, how could anyone else measure up to a legend? He’s under no illusions about how privileged he’s been to have the Doctor as his friend and mentor for the past fifteen or so years. Or, now, to be allowed to be his lover.
It won’t last, of course - and even now it’s only an occasional thing, whenever the Doctor drops in to see him. Always used to be once a year or so, and then they’d spend a couple of weeks together, travelling in the TARDIS. Though, admittedly, it’s been a bit more often than that since they’ve been fuck-buddies as well as friends.
He downs the rest of his beer, stifling the irony-filled laugh that threatens to surface at the description he’s just used. Fuck-buddies. Yeah. That’s what it is for the Doctor, no doubt, as full of puppyish enthusiasm and affection in bed as he is out. Friends with a little added extra on the side - an arrangement he’s normally perfectly happy with.
Except this time it’s more, for him at any rate. He was stupid enough to go and fall in love.
Jack signals the barman and orders another beer, then hesitates and glances towards the woman at the other end of the bar again. “And another of whatever she’s drinking,” he adds, having to shout to be heard over the loud music and conversation. What’s the point in sitting on his own like a lovesick teenager, after all? He hasn’t forgotten how to flirt, anyway - or lost the enjoyment he always gets from having someone respond to him when he does.
His beer arrives, and moments later the woman sends a beaming - and inviting - smile his way as she picks up the drink he’s just bought her. He smiles back, sensual and practised, and begins to make his way over to her, bottle in his hand.
And then he stops, the sensation of being watched sending warning tingles around the back of his neck.
Slowly, he glances around, casually enough so that it’ll just look like he’s trying to find a safe path through the packed bar.
There. Over near the door, so clearly he’s just come in. It’s no-one he recognises, which immediately raises his guard. A threat, or a harmless guy who just likes the look of him? No, that stare was too deliberate.
The guy’s looking away now, studying some point over the bar counter with far too much attention to be anything other than pretence. Still, it gives Jack the freedom to assess him. Not a guy who gives a damn what anyone thinks of him, that much is obvious: that battered jacket and woollen jumper couldn’t be more different from the high fashions and typical bar-hopping outfits everyone else - including himself - is wearing. And the close-cropped hair, which does nothing to hide the man’s elephant-ears. Not conventionally good-looking, by any means, but there’s a magnetism to him, on top of his don’t give a damn attitude that makes it hard to look away.
Heat curls inside him. He hasn’t been this turned on in a long time. Not since...
The guy’s head turns, and he finds himself looking directly into grey-blue eyes, and a intense stare that he can’t fail to recognise even in spite of the unfamiliar face. His heart leaps, then skips a beat, and he switches direction, edging his way over towards the door. On the way, he brushes away a moment’s regret for the laughing man with chestnut curls; it’s not as if he hasn’t seen several times over that the Doctor’s still the Doctor regardless of the wrapping.
He stops about three feet away, and the man just looks at him, an expression Jack’s going to have to learn to read on his face. So it’s like that, huh?
He smiles slowly. “Hello, Doctor.”
“Jack.” The Doctor sounds surprised. Idiot. He should know by now that Jack will always know who he is. There’s warmth in those new eyes - but also wariness. Damn. Well, it’s not as if he didn’t already know that with every new body comes at least some personality changes, and changes in preferences. Like no sugar in his tea, or liking bananas instead of pears.
Or no longer wanting to shag his best friend.
Just like ripping off a plaster, the best way is get straight to the point. Then at least he’ll know one way or another.
He dumps the bottle on a nearby table, closes the gap between them, takes the Doctor’s face between his, and takes his lover’s lips in a warm, demanding kiss.
***
Feels completely different, kissing Jack in this new body. Funny, that. Never occurred to him that he’d notice it. Still good, though. Just different.
He shouldn’t read too much into the kiss, though. It is practically how Jack says hello, after all. Doesn’t mean that he’s going to be willing to pick up where they left off.
Jack ends the kiss, pulling back to look at him. The boy’s face is full of questions, though that’s hardly surprising. What is surprising is that Jack isn’t asking any of them. Though this place is hardly the best for that kind of conversation.
“Want to get out of here?” he asks.
Jack pulls a wry grimace. “Was just about to suggest it.”
He hesitates for a moment, remembering what he saw before Jack realised he was being observed. “Not interruptin’ anything, am I? Saw you had a friend over there.” He nods his head towards the far end of the bar.
“No-one I know,” Jack says instantly, his complete lack of interest in the attractive woman who was smiling at him apparent in his voice. “Let’s go.”
A casual pick-up, then. Not that what Jack does, or who he sees, when they’re not together is any of his business. What they have isn’t an exclusive relationship, and neither of them have wanted anything different. Doesn’t make sense, anyway, when they only see each other occasionally.
Even still, he’s strangely relieved that Jack’s not involved with the woman.
Outside, they’re plunged into sudden silence as well as darkness, and for a moment he has no idea what to say or do. Stupid, that. He’s known Jack for hundreds of years in his timeline. Never felt awkward around the lad before, so why start now?
“Your place or mine?” Jack asks, and he hears uncertainty in his friend’s voice too. So it’s not just him.
He’s about to suggest Jack’s flat - they spent a lot of time there in his last regeneration - but hesitates. This might be easier on his own territory, for one thing. For another, if Jack’s with him it’ll lessen the temptation to flight. Can’t exactly run away from the bloke if Jack’s on the TARDIS as well. “Mine.”
Jack’s smile, visible in the light cast by the bar’s neon sign, is his reward. “Fine by me.”
The TARDIS is only just down the road, in a small alcove between buildings - less than two minutes’ walk, certainly not enough time to start any kind of serious conversation. They walk in silence, though he catches Jack casting him occasional glances as they go. Only to be expected, really, and didn’t he do exactly the same the first time they met after his previous regenerations?
A raucous group spills out of another bar, heading in his and Jack’s direction without looking. “Hey!” Jack exclaims.
“Fuck you, ape,” one of them replies with a sneer.
“Yeah, get back to the jungle,” says another, making an obscene gesture.
Jack ignores them, picking up his pace to get past them. Catching up, the Doctor says, “What was that all about?”
Jack shrugs. “It’s nothing. Forget it.”
“Ape? Jungle?” His eyes widen. “That’s not nothing.”
“They’re just drunk. It’s not important.”
He drops it, because Jack wants him to. Not as if it’s not easy to figure out, anyway. Jack’s from Schattenwelt, and the original inhabitants of that planet, before it was settled by humans several generations back, were simian in appearance. No, the only question here is whether this is a frequent occurrence - and, judging by Jack’s complete lack of surprise at the insults, he’d guess it is.
Something else to talk about later, then.
“On your own, then?” Jack asks as they reach the TARDIS.
“Yeah. Did have someone with me, but she went home,” he says with a shrug. They all do, sooner or later, and he’s all right with that. There’s not many who can take this life for more than a few months, or a year or two, at a time. Even Jack wants to get back to his human life after a few weeks away.
Jack’s hand lands on his shoulder. “You should pick up someone else. You know I don’t like seeing you travelling alone.”
“Could come with me, then, couldn’t you?” But it’s not really a serious suggestion, and they both know it.
It’s Jack’s turn to shrug. “Might, some day. You never know.”
That’s new. He raises an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
“Who knows? Can’t be a Time Agent for ever. Besides, someone’s got to stop you running through your lives.”
“Oi! I’ll have you know I had that last body for almost a hundred of your years.” Though is Jack actually worrying about losing him, or does he want to get away from the kind of crap they’ve just encountered?
“A hundred. Right.” Jack presses his hand against the TARDIS door. “And I saw you... what, half a dozen times?”
“Eight or nine,” he corrects. Though he knows the number exactly; it’s actually ten, if he counts the time he left and then came back, after the first time Jack kissed him, as two visits. He’s never told Jack, and doesn’t intend to, but these visits are carefully rationed. Humans and their fleeting lifespans; how do they manage? “Anyway, come in if you’re comin’.”
The moment of truth, this, really. How much are things going to change?
***
Inside, Jack looks around, eyes widening. “You redecorated again.”
The Doctor’s expression suggests he doesn’t even notice the difference. “Didn’t really think wood an’ brass was my thing any more.”
“No?” He raises one eyebrow, watching the Doctor, who’s gone over to the console. “So is there anything else that’s not your thing any more?”
“Eh?” The Doctor frowns, looking puzzled.
Jack splays his hands expressively; just like with the kiss earlier, he might as well get straight to the point. The kiss was promising, definitely; but that’s still no guarantee. “Look, I have so many questions for you. But I’m gonna start with the selfish one.” His grin turns sensual; he’s pulling out all the stops tonight, but then, it’s never mattered so much. “Is this you still gonna let me shag you?”
A slow - and is that relieved? - smile spreads across the Doctor’s face. “I might, at that. Depends. You still gonna let me shag you?”
Yes, that’s definitely relief. “You thought I wouldn’t?”
The Doctor’s face is answer enough, though he immediately looks away and starts fussing with the controls.
Jack lets out a slow breath, relief mingling with bemusement. Why on earth would the Doctor think he’d want things to change?
The old Earth saying, actions speak louder than words, comes to mind just as he’s about to convince the Doctor how badly he does want their relationship to continue. Suits him; he’s always been a man of action, after all.
Three paces take him to the Doctor, and before the Time Lord can say a word he takes his lover’s face between his palms and kisses him a second time, this time with every bit as much passion as any time they’ve been in bed together.
It really is like kissing a different man. It’s not just that the Doctor’s lips, tongue, teeth have all changed, or even that they’re the same height now so he doesn’t need to bend his head, but the way the Doctor kisses is different, too. He’s rougher, more demanding, more willing to take the lead away from Jack - and he’s got no complaints at all about that.
When he breaks the kiss, he’s more than a little satisfied to see that the Doctor’s pupils are dilated.
The Doctor’s comment tells him he’s not yet managed to convince him. “Should’ve known you’d be curious. Bed, then?”
Curious? Is that all he thinks it is?
He takes the Doctor’s hand firmly in his and leads his lover into the TARDIS interior, to the room he’s shared with the Doctor during the few times he travelled on the ship since they started this relationship. He’ll show the Doctor curious - and he’ll make damn sure the guy enjoys it every bit as much as he’s going to.
***
Jack’s thorough; he has to give the lad that. There’s not an inch of his body that’s remained unexplored. And, even if he says so himself, he thinks this new him’s not half bad when it comes to sex. Got a few new tricks up his sleeve Jack wasn’t expecting - not that he complained. In fact, the bloke’s collapsed on the pillows, one of the biggest smiles the Doctor’s ever seen on his face.
He’s got the strongest urge to ask if it was as good for Jack as he suspects. But he resists. Maybe the last him did stuff like that, but this him’s different. And besides, one thing he’s not gonna do is start his reacquaintance with Jack off by sounding needy. If Jack does want to go back to a platonic relationship - the last hour notwithstanding - he’s not going to make it hard for the lad.
The bedsprings move; Jack’s turned and is now lying on his side, staring at the Doctor. And staring.
All right, it’s not as if he hasn’t seen the nose himself. And the ears. And, while he’s had time to get used to them, Jack hasn’t.
All the same, he really can do without the staring.
“So, you said you had questions?” Anything’s got to be better than just lying here as an object of curiosity - and, while he could just get up and dressed, that probably wouldn’t go down too well.
“Yeah.” Jack leans up on an elbow. “How did it happen? And why did it take you so long to come and see me?”
He raises an eyebrow and stares down his nose at Jack. “Which did you want me to answer first?”
Should’ve realised the lad wouldn’t be intimidated. He just grins. “I’d have thought a genius Time Lord like you could hold two questions in your head for long enough to answer them.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He smiles back; hard not to when Jack’s grinning like that. Sliding into a sitting position, he asks, “Ever been to Xerfixor?”
“Not for a while. Nice place, mostly. The Five Lakes of Sorxix are worth seeing. So...?”
“So I decided to take a look at the lakes. Arrived just in time for the civil war of Twenty-Apple-Forty-five.”
“Huh?” Jack frowns. “There was no civil war of Twenty-Apple-Forty-five.”
“Exactly.” He shrugs. “I sorted it. Trouble was, just before I did, one side booby-trapped a nuclear power-plant. It was gonna go into meltdown unless someone went in and shut it down.”
“A suicide mission, in other words.” Jack’s brows are drawn together, and he’s angry.
“Could put it like that, yeah. Anyway, so that’s how it happened.”
“Had to be you, right?” This time he’s resigned.
He shrugs again. “Who else? Least I was gonna come out of it alive.”
“True.” Jack strokes his palm lightly down the Doctor’s chest. “Suppose I can’t argue with that.” He pulls a face. “No radiation suits on the TARDIS?”
“None strong enough.” He pauses an instant. “So, yeah, that’s why I look like this now.”
“I’m not complaining.” Again, that steady appraisal. “Oh, sure, I’ll miss running my fingers through those curls of yours, but there are compensations.”
He leaves that one where it is. “Any other questions?”
Jack gives him a glare. “I’m damn sure you didn’t forget my second one.”
“No,” he acknowledges. “Jack, you know it’s always longer for me than you between visits.”
Jack rolls over until he’s pressed up next to the Doctor’s body, then lays his head on the Doctor’s shoulder. “I know. Got no problem with that. This is different - you regenerated, Doctor. Don’t you think I’d have wanted to know?”
“It’s not a big deal. Done it eight times now, remember.”
“Yeah, and three since I’ve known you. You never left it so long before.”
Interesting that Jack’s not bringing up the one point the Doctor was sure he would: that them being lovers should have entitled Jack to more consideration. Because he thinks it won’t get him anywhere - or another reason?
“Doctor?” Bugger. Jack’s really pushing this. “Wait a minute. Before, back in the console room... Did you think I’d have a problem with the way you look now?”
He hesitates too long before trying to answer, and Jack curses under his breath. “You did, didn’t you?”
“It’s a perfectly reasonable thing to think!” he protests. “I’ve changed what I look like, so why wouldn’t your attraction to me change?”
“You actually thought what you look like would make a difference to me? Idiot.” Jack cuffs him lightly. “Don’t you get it? I love you whatever face you’re wearing. Always have.”
“But you didn’t...” Want me. “...before. Not until my last regeneration.”
Jack laughs. “Didn’t dare try it before, you mean. In case you’ve forgotten, you were a bit of a cantankerous sod in that body.”
“Bollocks. Nothin’ scares you, even when it should.”
He gets a lopsided grin in response. “I guess... to be honest, I was too young then. Didn’t really see what was in front of me.” Jack exhales hard, and it’s clear that he’s working up to a confession of some sort. He’d stop the lad - they’ve never really gone in for this sort of soul-baring - except that maybe he wants to hear this. “Oh, I hero-worshipped you, you know that. But I wasn’t ready to fall in love with you. Not then.”
Anything he was about to say in response is ripped away from him, along with his breath for a moment. Fall in love? Jack’s in love with him?
And he thought the lad would’ve lost interest now that he’s regenerated again. Shows how wrong he can be
“Jack,” he begins, but then has to halt as the words dry up. What the hell’s he supposed to say to that?
***
Oh, shit. Shit! He never actually meant to say that. Not to the Doctor, the guy who’s never once so much as hinted that the L-word might be part of his vocabulary. Oh, he knows he matters to the Doctor. That’s been apparent as long as they’ve known each other, but shown in actions, never spoken in words.
“Sorry. Forget I said that,” he manages, feeling as if he’s having to choke the words out past the burning in his throat.
The Doctor gives a sudden bark of laughter, and he turns his head quickly to look at the other man. “We’re a right pair, aren’t we, eh?”
“Huh?” What’s that supposed to mean? But the Doctor’s expression isn’t anything like he feared. There’s no disgust or even embarrassment there; just amusement, which seems to be directed at both of them.
“There’s me afraid to show this face to you in case you didn’t want this me, an’ you afraid to tell me you’re in love with me in case I - what? Laugh at you?”
“Or worse,” Jack admits. He makes himself acknowledge the worst-case scenario, now that it’s starting to look like he was spectacularly wrong. “Dump me.”
“Idiot.” The Doctor cuffs him lightly on the side of his head, letting his hand linger to stroke Jack’s hair.
“Takes one to know one,” Jack retorts, catching the Doctor’s hand in his before his lover can withdraw it. New fingers: stronger, less slender than before. This is a workman’s hand, to match the hair and the much plainer choice of clothing. Calloused and rough, yet - as the Doctor’s just proved over the last couple of hours - every bit as capable of driving him crazy with tantalising, clever caresses.
“Yeah.” The Doctor leans closer, presses a kiss to Jack’s lips and gives him a smile, warm and affectionate. It changes his face completely, lighting up those sharp blue-grey eyes and giving him an almost goofy look. Gorgeous, though. So different from his previous face, yet he already loves this new one. “An’ I’m not gonna dump you, by the way. Certainly not for that.” Another kiss. “Thank you.”
It’s the closest the Doctor’s ever going to come to any kind of declaration of affection in return, he knows. But it’s enough. More than enough.
The next second, the Doctor’s leaping out of bed and reaching for his clothes. “Can’t lie around here all day, can we? Things to do, places to go - well, come on, then!”
Right. This regeneration’s obviously not one for sitting back and smelling the flowers, then. He jumps out of bed himself and pulls on his trousers, a wide grin on his face. He’s only just beginning to get to know this new Doctor, and he can’t wait to know him better.
***
“You gonna hang around for a bit or what?” he asks as Jack joins him in the console room. “Been a while since you’ve come with me.”
“Certainly has for you,” Jack retorts with a grin. “Sure, why not? I’ve just started a few days’ leave anyway.”
“Time machine,” he points out with a raised eyebrow.
“That doesn’t always get the time right,” Jack counters with an even wider grin.
“Oi!” he objects as Jack comes to stand by the controls. “No insulting the TARDIS!”
“She knows I love her,” Jack says with a fond smile, stroking his fingertips over the console surface. The TARDIS purrs in response.
“Traitor,” he grunts. Entering a couple of commands, he says, “Where d’you want to go?”
Jack’s gaze meets his, and for a brief instant he sees relief in the younger man’s eyes. “Anywhere that’s not Earth.”
Ah. He chooses a destination and inputs the coordinates. “That ape stuff getting to you?”
A shrug. He holds Jack’s gaze, insisting without words on an answer. Jack pulls a grimace. “It’s getting worse. Never bothered me before - it was only ever someone being a moron, and I could ignore that and just get on with doing my job. But things are changing. There’s more of it around and it’s getting harder to ignore. Even tonight - I’d just bought that woman a drink and I was going over to talk to her, and it occurred to me that with the low lighting she probably hadn’t realised I was Schatten. Couldn’t help wondering if that inviting smile she was sending my way would vanish once she saw me close up.”
The Doctor feels his fists clench. Happens time and time again, all over the universe, doesn’t it? A dominant race, or species, oppresses another, usually for no better reason than that they look different. Too often, it ends in genocide.
For a moment, he thinks of Gallifrey and the Daleks, but brushes it away. Ancient history, and it’s got nothing to do with what’s happening here and now. “You should leave. Why put up with it? Travel with me instead.” Yes, it’d shoot his strategy of spacing out visits to Jack to pieces, but that’s all right. It’d be nice to have the lad as a longer-term companion.
But Jack shakes his head. “Not that I don’t appreciate the offer, but when I do leave - yeah, I’ve thought about it - I’ll go back to ‘Shane.” His fingers drum on the console. “There could be trouble. I’m not sure. Won’t be for a while yet, I think. But if it happens, I’m not gonna get caught on the wrong side.”
Damn. He lays a hand heavily on Jack’s shoulder. “Be careful, all right? And if you need me...”
“Yeah, yeah.” Jack smiles, a careless grin that says louder than words that he wants to change the subject. “Been looking after myself for fifteen years now, Doctor. Anyway, you haven’t told me - where are you taking me?”
Pushing aside his worry for Jack - no point borrowing trouble - he grins. “Anywhere but Earth.”
- end