GigglingGigi: Cost of One Letter (Nine/Jack, Jack/Others) [R]
Title: Cost Of One Letter (Part one and two)
Author: GigglingGigi
Challenge: 2011 Doctor/Jack Bingo Fest
Prompt used:(In this part) Kiss, The Doctor Fears what Jack will become, Jack's Timelessness is like a drug to the time lords.
Rating: R
Pairing: Jack/9th Doctor Jack/Others
Spoilers/warnings: In this part: Torchwood season two and three.
Summary: The Doctor got a letter. Or When Ianto does something he does it a bit too well.
(Please let me know if I didn't get the tags right, thank you. Or the rating)
The Cost of One Letter
Part One: A Bar on some back water planet.
The soft clinking of glasses, the loud drunken laughter, and the off key music of the bar marked it all as home for Jack. It had been home for the past few weeks. He knew he was fucking up; he knew that drinking away memories never worked, but he needed that haze the drinks brought. He needed that clear moment when he would be so drunk he couldn't remember anything. He had tried losing himself in sex, losing himself in the smell of female and male bodies pressed up to him in pleasure. But that only brought back the memories, only held them so close that he'd nearly gotten sick when the salty taste of the last man's come filled his mouth.
So now he'll stick to the taste of the cheap drinks he could buy, he'll pour them into himself until it's filled him so completely that there is nothing. He heard the chair next to him be pulled out and knew someone was sitting down but didn't bother to look up. "Sorry, I'm closed for the night. Come back later."
"I think you have time for me, Jack." The voice shot something through Jack that he didn't even know he still had. That feeling of Joy, that feeling of Hope. His eyes trailed away from his drink to move up to the Doctor's face -- his first Doctor's face.
"Doc?"
"Oh you're not so drunk you've forgotten about me, are you?" the cross tones were like bliss to Jack; it was like coming home. But he drew back knowing that this Doctor even if he'd always be the first one that Jack loved, was not here for him. He was looking for his younger self and had thought that Jack was him.
"I'm not your Jack," he answered, his voice felt so flat and lifeless. As he raised his glass to his lips, the Doctor pulled it from his hand.
"Like hell you're not: You'll always be mine, lad." He couldn't suppress the shudder of pleasure that went through him at the Doctor's words; they were something he wanted to hear, needed to hear.
He wasn't sure if they were true, he smiled that smile he used when everything was bad but a smile was what you really needed, "Thanks, but I meant that I'm a little older than the Jack you're traveling with, Doc; he might be waiting for you where you think he should be." He nodded his head towards the door trying to get the Doctor to take the hint.
"No, he and Rose are off having themselves a little bit of nice and safe fun on this lovely little retreat; even already checked on them. You're the one I'm here to see, seeing hows I got a letter that you'd need me." The Doctor pushed the cup out of Jack's reach nearly knocking the glass off the table.
"Letter?" Jack's face fall, what letter would the Doctor have gotten. He didn't remember writing one, nor did he remember ever hearing the Doctor talk about a letter before. He could remember the retreat, how he and Rose spent the day being pampered and relaxing. It was right after they had spent the day running for their lives. It was the first that wasn't out of the norm, but Rose and he ended up getting to know each other so much better, became better friends because of that day. There were even little inside jokes the Doctor'd used to grumble about not being able to understand, after that day.
"Yes, seeing how someone loved you enough to write it, I thought I should show up and check on you. And what do I find? You sitting here drinking yourself to death." Jack couldn't help the bitter laugh that slipped out of his mouth at the Doctor's words, the hand at the back of his head hurt, it hurt really good. It was the first real touch that meant anything of late.
Selling himself to buy his drinks, that touch was always cold and meaningless, that touch was something to keep Jack in practice if he ever found someone in his bed that he might really want to share it with. But this touch, the Doctor's hand flat against his head smacking some sense into him. Even with the pain it vibrated through him making him moan ever so sightly. "Doctor." He whispered the other man's name, his eyes locking on him, his eyes a mixture of those feelings that swamped him. That ate him alive.
The Doctor was giving him a look as if he were trying to understand something, trying to see past Jack right down deep into his soul. Jack knew what he was seeing, Jack was a Fact, something the Doctor had said in the past was something painful to be around. Something the Master had driven into Jack's head was a bad thing. Jack was starting to hate all facts, because facts led to being here in a bar drinking yourself silly.
The Doctor reached over and ran a finger down across Jack's neck, touching like you would if you thought something would burn you. The rush of air that came from the next breath that came from him made Jack sit a little straighter, his pants feeling all the more tighter. "Oh lad, what have you done to yourself? What is this now? All full of the vortex aren't you?" Jack wasn't sure if he should answer or not, not sure if the Doctor was talking to him or himself.
"I can't tell you..."
"Shhh, Captain, no need to explain; just let me have a look at you, let me feel what it is. Nothing to worry about; I'm here now." The Doctor's voice was smoothing him over, washing over him and making him sit still. The way that the Time Lord looked at him made feel special, important, but only because the Doctor seemed to care about him. He wanted to tell him to stop, to tell him what he will do.
Yet, this was the Doctor, the Oncoming Storm, the man who had to burn his own people. Somehow the Doctor might understand. A small bit of him hoped that he would. That he could speak about his grandson, all the other children, about his team and his brother, about everything and the Doctor would understand.
"Come on Captain," the Doctor soothed, pushing him up out of his chair, "Let's get you back to the TARDIS and get you all cleaned up." He pulled Jack to him, reminding the Captain just how strong he was.
---
Part Two: An alley some where between the bar and the TARDIS.
Something was very wrong with Jack.
The drinking did not give it away; he had seen Jack forget himself and have one hell of a hang over the next day. The Vortex energy, though it was interesting, wasn't it either. (And how that tickled at him, making his body vibrate such that he pulled Jack close, his face nearly in Jack's neck.) It was that Jack had not once tried to make a pass at him, not once let his hand slip down the curve of his back to rest just above his arse. Someone had hurt his Jack and they were going to pay for it.
He hated that spark of life was missing that it just wasn't there; it had been one of the things that pulled the Doctor towards Jack. That made the Doctor love having him, having him? No, not having him, having him around. The Vortex energy was doing things to his head. How did this happen to Jack?
Fear rattled around in his head as he propped Jack up on a wall to take a short break. He should have parked closer...
"Doc.. We're crossing timelines, this isn't safe." Jack's face fell onto his shoulder; lips pressed to the leather.
"No drooling on my coat, Jack...and it's fine, I know what I'm doing, I'm the Time lord after all." He put his hand on the back of Jack's neck to move his head so that he could look into Jack's eyes. They filled with a sadness and pain he had only seen in his own.
"I'm not going to drool; I missed this coat... Missed you." He wondered how long it had been for Jack, when had been the last time they'd seen each other. Did this mean that his time in this face was going to be short? He was after all just getting used to it. He couldn't think of that now, not with Jack standing there basically in his arms, crying out to him for something he wasn't sure about.
What was it about Harkness that made the Doctor ache just a bit, that made him, the man who ran from most things, want to dive in instead of away. Looking into Jack's eyes was like looking into the Vortex when he was only but a child on his first face. His lips parted to say something but when Jack pulled him close all that happened was his lips meeting Jack's.
The kiss was hungry, Jack was trying to really taste him, to pull him apart until there was nothing left. The feeling of life just filled him until there was nothing but it. His own body reacted like it was on fire. Yet, he wanted more, he wanted to push Jack until he was pushed almost into the wall, until their bodies and minds were one.
"Oi! Hey! What are you doing to my Jack?"
TBC...
Part 3 http://wintercompanion.livejournal.com/146256.html
Author: GigglingGigi
Challenge: 2011 Doctor/Jack Bingo Fest
Prompt used:(In this part) Kiss, The Doctor Fears what Jack will become, Jack's Timelessness is like a drug to the time lords.
Rating: R
Pairing: Jack/9th Doctor Jack/Others
Spoilers/warnings: In this part: Torchwood season two and three.
Summary: The Doctor got a letter. Or When Ianto does something he does it a bit too well.
(Please let me know if I didn't get the tags right, thank you. Or the rating)
The Cost of One Letter
Part One: A Bar on some back water planet.
The soft clinking of glasses, the loud drunken laughter, and the off key music of the bar marked it all as home for Jack. It had been home for the past few weeks. He knew he was fucking up; he knew that drinking away memories never worked, but he needed that haze the drinks brought. He needed that clear moment when he would be so drunk he couldn't remember anything. He had tried losing himself in sex, losing himself in the smell of female and male bodies pressed up to him in pleasure. But that only brought back the memories, only held them so close that he'd nearly gotten sick when the salty taste of the last man's come filled his mouth.
So now he'll stick to the taste of the cheap drinks he could buy, he'll pour them into himself until it's filled him so completely that there is nothing. He heard the chair next to him be pulled out and knew someone was sitting down but didn't bother to look up. "Sorry, I'm closed for the night. Come back later."
"I think you have time for me, Jack." The voice shot something through Jack that he didn't even know he still had. That feeling of Joy, that feeling of Hope. His eyes trailed away from his drink to move up to the Doctor's face -- his first Doctor's face.
"Doc?"
"Oh you're not so drunk you've forgotten about me, are you?" the cross tones were like bliss to Jack; it was like coming home. But he drew back knowing that this Doctor even if he'd always be the first one that Jack loved, was not here for him. He was looking for his younger self and had thought that Jack was him.
"I'm not your Jack," he answered, his voice felt so flat and lifeless. As he raised his glass to his lips, the Doctor pulled it from his hand.
"Like hell you're not: You'll always be mine, lad." He couldn't suppress the shudder of pleasure that went through him at the Doctor's words; they were something he wanted to hear, needed to hear.
He wasn't sure if they were true, he smiled that smile he used when everything was bad but a smile was what you really needed, "Thanks, but I meant that I'm a little older than the Jack you're traveling with, Doc; he might be waiting for you where you think he should be." He nodded his head towards the door trying to get the Doctor to take the hint.
"No, he and Rose are off having themselves a little bit of nice and safe fun on this lovely little retreat; even already checked on them. You're the one I'm here to see, seeing hows I got a letter that you'd need me." The Doctor pushed the cup out of Jack's reach nearly knocking the glass off the table.
"Letter?" Jack's face fall, what letter would the Doctor have gotten. He didn't remember writing one, nor did he remember ever hearing the Doctor talk about a letter before. He could remember the retreat, how he and Rose spent the day being pampered and relaxing. It was right after they had spent the day running for their lives. It was the first that wasn't out of the norm, but Rose and he ended up getting to know each other so much better, became better friends because of that day. There were even little inside jokes the Doctor'd used to grumble about not being able to understand, after that day.
"Yes, seeing how someone loved you enough to write it, I thought I should show up and check on you. And what do I find? You sitting here drinking yourself to death." Jack couldn't help the bitter laugh that slipped out of his mouth at the Doctor's words, the hand at the back of his head hurt, it hurt really good. It was the first real touch that meant anything of late.
Selling himself to buy his drinks, that touch was always cold and meaningless, that touch was something to keep Jack in practice if he ever found someone in his bed that he might really want to share it with. But this touch, the Doctor's hand flat against his head smacking some sense into him. Even with the pain it vibrated through him making him moan ever so sightly. "Doctor." He whispered the other man's name, his eyes locking on him, his eyes a mixture of those feelings that swamped him. That ate him alive.
The Doctor was giving him a look as if he were trying to understand something, trying to see past Jack right down deep into his soul. Jack knew what he was seeing, Jack was a Fact, something the Doctor had said in the past was something painful to be around. Something the Master had driven into Jack's head was a bad thing. Jack was starting to hate all facts, because facts led to being here in a bar drinking yourself silly.
The Doctor reached over and ran a finger down across Jack's neck, touching like you would if you thought something would burn you. The rush of air that came from the next breath that came from him made Jack sit a little straighter, his pants feeling all the more tighter. "Oh lad, what have you done to yourself? What is this now? All full of the vortex aren't you?" Jack wasn't sure if he should answer or not, not sure if the Doctor was talking to him or himself.
"I can't tell you..."
"Shhh, Captain, no need to explain; just let me have a look at you, let me feel what it is. Nothing to worry about; I'm here now." The Doctor's voice was smoothing him over, washing over him and making him sit still. The way that the Time Lord looked at him made feel special, important, but only because the Doctor seemed to care about him. He wanted to tell him to stop, to tell him what he will do.
Yet, this was the Doctor, the Oncoming Storm, the man who had to burn his own people. Somehow the Doctor might understand. A small bit of him hoped that he would. That he could speak about his grandson, all the other children, about his team and his brother, about everything and the Doctor would understand.
"Come on Captain," the Doctor soothed, pushing him up out of his chair, "Let's get you back to the TARDIS and get you all cleaned up." He pulled Jack to him, reminding the Captain just how strong he was.
---
Part Two: An alley some where between the bar and the TARDIS.
Something was very wrong with Jack.
The drinking did not give it away; he had seen Jack forget himself and have one hell of a hang over the next day. The Vortex energy, though it was interesting, wasn't it either. (And how that tickled at him, making his body vibrate such that he pulled Jack close, his face nearly in Jack's neck.) It was that Jack had not once tried to make a pass at him, not once let his hand slip down the curve of his back to rest just above his arse. Someone had hurt his Jack and they were going to pay for it.
He hated that spark of life was missing that it just wasn't there; it had been one of the things that pulled the Doctor towards Jack. That made the Doctor love having him, having him? No, not having him, having him around. The Vortex energy was doing things to his head. How did this happen to Jack?
Fear rattled around in his head as he propped Jack up on a wall to take a short break. He should have parked closer...
"Doc.. We're crossing timelines, this isn't safe." Jack's face fell onto his shoulder; lips pressed to the leather.
"No drooling on my coat, Jack...and it's fine, I know what I'm doing, I'm the Time lord after all." He put his hand on the back of Jack's neck to move his head so that he could look into Jack's eyes. They filled with a sadness and pain he had only seen in his own.
"I'm not going to drool; I missed this coat... Missed you." He wondered how long it had been for Jack, when had been the last time they'd seen each other. Did this mean that his time in this face was going to be short? He was after all just getting used to it. He couldn't think of that now, not with Jack standing there basically in his arms, crying out to him for something he wasn't sure about.
What was it about Harkness that made the Doctor ache just a bit, that made him, the man who ran from most things, want to dive in instead of away. Looking into Jack's eyes was like looking into the Vortex when he was only but a child on his first face. His lips parted to say something but when Jack pulled him close all that happened was his lips meeting Jack's.
The kiss was hungry, Jack was trying to really taste him, to pull him apart until there was nothing left. The feeling of life just filled him until there was nothing but it. His own body reacted like it was on fire. Yet, he wanted more, he wanted to push Jack until he was pushed almost into the wall, until their bodies and minds were one.
"Oi! Hey! What are you doing to my Jack?"
TBC...
Part 3 http://wintercompanion.livejournal.com/146256.html