Yamx: Deal (Jack/Nine) [R]
The bazaar of Esterin V is brimming with people. Humans, Kazeen, Terporeth, Raxacoricofallapatorians (to whom Rose reacted really badly for some reason, until the Doctor talked her down), Ood, Fendo, and a few species even he’s never seen before. The Era of the Firedove is truly a golden age for this planet - liveliest trading posts in the quadrant, booming tourism, and practically no political conflicts.
Just what Rose wanted, this morning in the console room, when the Doctor asked her to pick a destination - “Somewhere fun, with lots of weird aliens and such, and absolutely no running for our lives!” The Doctor actually looked a little offended at the last bit, and Jack had to bite his tongue not to remind the Time Lord that in the eight days since he’s started traveling with them, they’ve visited six planets and ended up running for their lives on five of them. And the only reason they didn’t on the sixth was that he’d managed to charm the head executioner into letting them go, as long as they promised never to return. But he didn't point out any of that.
He knows it’s only a matter of time until the Time Lord gets tired of his company and tells him to leave - though by now he’s reasonably sure that he’d be left at a decent space port, not just stranded in some backwater - and he has no desire to bring that moment about any faster. He enjoys this too much. Traveling in the TARDIS, spending time with these two people. Even if he doesn’t quite fit in.
And he can’t deny that he’s got it bad for the Doctor. Rose is beautiful and fun to be with, but every time the Time Lord looks at him, or talks to him a certain way, his breath quickens and he feels a flutter in his stomach. The kind of silly school girl crush he hasn’t had since he was a silly school boy. He sighs. He’s not fool enough to think anything will ever come of it. But he can dream, can’t he?
Right now, they are peacefully wandering along, Rose holding the Doctor’s hand and him following a few steps behind. The blonde and the Time Lord are so deep in conversation that he sometimes thinks they wouldn’t even notice if he disappeared - but then, every once in a while, he sees the Doctor glance back over his shoulder, or Rose half-turns in mid-sentence to ask, “Ain’t that right, Jack?”
Here and there, Rose stops to inspect the trinkets offered by the stallholders - the bazaar sells everything from food over clothes, jewelry, books and art, to technical equipment and spaceship parts. A few times, when Rose seems really enchanted by something, the Doctor hands the merchant some coins and cheerfully puts the item into one of his apparently bottomless jacket pockets. Rose smiles and thanks him, sometimes with a hug, but the Doctor just shakes his head and makes some gruff remark about apes being attracted to shiny things. Rose laughs and lightly slaps him on the forearm, and is rewarded by that manic grin that Jack finds so damn sexy, even if he’d never dare to tell the Doctor so.
Of course, Rose walks right past all the stalls full of gadgets and technical supplies that Jack is itching to examine, but really, that’s just as well. He’s sure someone around here is offering the items he needs, but it’s not like he has a single credit to his name. Everything he owned blew up with the ship. And while the Doctor seems only too glad to indulge Rose, Jack doesn’t want to imagine what would happen if he asked the Time Lord to buy him a xero-temporal analyzer and a sonic vector alignment kit. Not that those would be so terribly expensive in this time, but after the stunt he pulled in 1941, he doesn’t think the Doctor wants him anywhere near temporal technology. That’s why he always stays well away from the console when the Doctor’s flying the TARDIS. He’s dying to learn how to fly the magnificent ship, or at least be allowed to assist, but after the disaster he’s caused with the help of his last time ship and a Chula ambulance, he’s sure the Doctor would give him an earful if he dared to suggest it.
Suddenly, a thought occurs to him. There might be a way to get what he needs. If they aren’t too early… “Doctor, what year is this?”
“Year thirty-six of the Firedove - 5948 standard era. Why?”
“Just wondering.” Jack shrugs, carefully keeping a casual expression, but inside, he’s shouting with glee. An easy fix. Not pleasant, but easy. “Say, would you guys mind if I looked around on my own for a bit? No offence, Rose, but coral earrings and silk gloves don’t really interest me all that much - not until they’re adorning a beautiful woman, that is.” He says the last part with a lascivious smile.
Rose shrugs and looks at the Doctor, who nods. “We’ll be here a while. Meet back at the TARDIS at sunset?”
He nods. Sunset is at least four hours away. More time than he needs, if he hurries. He gives the two of them a cheerful “See ya,” and wanders off, careful to keep his posture relaxed and casual until there are several stalls hiding him from their view.
Then he straightens and hurries in the direction he remembers Choro’s establishment to be. Go in, strike a deal, go through the obligatory medscan, get the stamp, find one of her “exclusive preferences” clients, make sure they’re willing to pay well for what they’re getting, and an hour or so later, he can split his earnings with Choro and go out to find the equipment he needs. Easy as pie.
*****
Half an hour after dark, he’s hurrying towards the alley where the TARDIS is parked. Or was parked. Good God, he hopes they haven’t left yet. Haven’t decided that if he’s late, that’s his problem. If only the damn limp wasn’t slowing him down so much.
He tries to tell himself that it doesn’t matter if they’re gone. That Esterin V is a good place to strike out from, if he finds himself on his own again. That the TARDIS can never be more than a temporary arrangement anyway. But in his mind’s eye he keeps seeing a gruff figure in black leather and with impossibly big ears, and he knows he’ll regret it forever if his tardiness means he’ll never get to see him again.
He sighs with relief when he rounds the corner and sees the familiar blue box. He hurries towards it and tries the door. It’s unlocked.
Inside, he finds Rose lounging on the bench near the console. She jumps up and smiles as she sees him. “Jack!”
The Doctor, bent low over some controls, only glares at him and gruffly declares “There you finally are! Wouldn’t have waited much longer.”
Even as Jack pulls himself up straight and slips the mask of carefree happiness into place, his heart sinks. He’d have left without him. Of course he would have.
“Yep,” Rose grins, “He was just at the point of going out to look for you. Kept telling me about all the shady stuff that goes on below the surface here. I tried to tell him you’d probably just lost track of time. Not like we all have unfailable clocks ticking away in out minds, is it?”
Jack’s heart skips a beat. The Doctor was going to look for him? Does that mean…? But when he looks over at the Doctor, the Time Lord is completely focused on some readings on the console.
Jack draws his attention back to Rose, who’s still talking to him “-out for almost six hours and you didn’t buy anything? Or are you hiding stuff somewhere?” She lets her gaze wander slowly down his body with a playful grin.
He grins back. The flirting banter between them has already become second nature, and they both know that neither of them is serious about it. “Well,” he shrugs, raising his hands in a gesture of mock-helplessness. “It’s hard to find anything truly satisfying if you have my discerning tastes.”
Rose opens her mouth for what he doesn’t doubt will be a sassy comeback when they both hear a sharp intake of breath from the console and turn. The Doctor’s staring at him, but quickly blinks and shifts his gaze to Rose.
“Rose, now that Captain Slowcoach's finally here, why don’t you go put away your new stuff?” He indicates a small pile of bags and parcels by the door to the rest of the TARDIS. There’s something in his voice that Jack can’t place.
He can see that Rose is about to ask what’s going on, but another, almost pleading look from the Doctor makes her shut her mouth and nod. “Yeah, all right. Going to take a shower, too. Nice planet, Esterin V, but dusty.” She gathers up her shopping and disappears.
She’s barely gone when the Doctor crosses the distance between them in two long strides. He grabs Jack’s right wrist and turns it towards him. As he stares at Choro’s med sigil, something that Jack can’t read crosses his face. The Doctor’s jaws are working. After a second, he looks up at Jack, and grunts between clenched teeth, “Med bay. Now.”
“It’s all right, Doctor, I-”
“Now!” The Doctor squeezes his wrist painfully hard for a second before he lets go, turns and strides towards the door. Jack follows as quickly as he can, though his stomach seems to have dropped to his knees. He didn’t expect the Time Lord to spot the tiny sigil. It would have faded by tomorrow, anyway. And he certainly didn’t expect the Doctor to know what it meant. Foolish, he now realizes. Time Lords have superior senses, and the Doctor’s been around for 900 years.
The Doctor throws an impatient glare over his shoulder, but slows down when he notices Jack’s limp. Jack wants to say something, anything to break the silence, but the Doctor’s jaws are still working and he’s holding himself completely rigid, and any attempt at conversation dies on Jack’s lips.
When they reach the med bay, the Doctor locks the door behind them. Jack makes for the nearest bed, but the Doctor stops him with a gesture. “Strip,” he says, and the tone in his voice makes any reply Jack would usually have given to such an order stick in his throat. He obediently takes off his t-shirt and jeans. He’s not wearing anything underneath.
The Doctor circles him, taking in the bruises and abrasions, the cuts, the swollen ankle. For the first time since he can remember, Jack feels truly naked. Normally, he doesn’t mind people seeing him without clothes, but the intensity of the Doctor’s stare and the anger rolling off him in waves make this something else entirely.
The Doctor picks up a scanner and runs it up and down Jack’s body. Then he takes a blood sample - Jack expects to be treated roughly and is honestly surprised when the Doctor’s hands are gentle and the needle doesn’t hurt at all - and runs that through the scanner, too. He studies the results for a moment.
“Well, at least you didn’t pick up anything nasty on your little adventure,” he scoffs.
“Yes. The Time Agency inoculates-”
“You’re not immortal, Captain!” the Doctor snaps, gesturing to his wounds.
“I’ll be fine, I-”
“Yes you will be, if I have anything to say about it.” He picks up a bone regenerator and starts working on Jack's ribs, then the sprained ankle. He avoids Jack’s gaze. Next, he uses a tissue regenerator on Jack’s cuts and bruises, clenching his jaw even tighter at how deep some of them are. It takes a good forty-five minutes, but he doesn’t say a single word. Nor does Jack dare to.
When he’s finished, the Doctor puts down the regenerator and starts rummaging through a drawer. He’s still not looking at Jack. “Get dressed, then lie down,” he orders.
“Doctor, I really don’t need-”
“Captain, it’s none of my business what you do in your spare time, but while you’re on board my ship you’ll follow my orders. Clothes. Bed.”
Jack obeys. If he’s honest, he does feel rather exhausted. The Doctor’s last remark was not lost on him, though. If the Doctor feels it’s none of his business what Jack does outside the TARDIS, why is he this angry?
The Doctor hooks him up to a blood pack - “Matches your type perfectly, no worries,” then runs the scanner over him again. When he’s done, he turns and strides towards the door.
“Doctor, please…” Jack calls after him.
The Time Lord stops, but doesn’t turn back.
“I’m sorry, Doctor. I didn’t think you’d know. Or care, to be honest.”
The Doctor takes a deep, shuddering breath, and slowly turns around. The anger in his eyes has lessened, and is mingled with something else now - pain? But why?
“I just don’t understand, Jack. Good looking lad like you. Must be better places where you can find… company. Even given your… special interests.”
Jack stares at him for a moment, mouth open. “Special interests?” He shakes his head. “Doctor, it’s not like I mind playing it a bit rough sometimes, and yeah, with the right person I can enjoy being dominated, but this is beyond what I’d consider recreational. I didn’t go to Choro’s for the fun of having some rough sex.”
The Doctor flinches. “Then why? What would possess you to go to a place like that if you’re not looking for…?” His voice trails off.
Jack looks at the Doctor in genuine surprise. Surely, a nine-hundred year old Time Lord can’t be that naïve? “What do you think, Doc? Why do people normally strike a deal with Choro?”
The Doctor’s gaping at him, his eyes wide. “You did it for the money? You let someone do all this to you for a few credits?”
“Quite a lot of credits, actually,” Jack says defensively. “And what else could I have done? Not like I had time to grab my valuables when my ship was about to blow up.”
The Doctor’s slowly shaking his head. “And it didn’t occur to you to ask, you foolish ape?”
“Ask you for money? After everything else you’ve already done for me? And I’m not just talking about cleaning up my mess and saving my hide - I’m talking about feeding me, giving me clothes, a place to sleep-”
“And all that didn’t indicate to you that I might be interested in your welfare? By Rassilion, Jack, I have more than enough money to buy the whole bloody bazaar if I wanted to. Or if you wanted me to.”
What? Did the Doctor just say he’d buy him anything he wants?
“Jack.” The Doctor takes a few steps towards him, stands right next to his bed, and looks at him intently. “Choro’s place is legally regulated, I know. Customers have to make it clear what kind of a deal they want, no one’s forced to do more than they’re willing to, people who’re ready to take more get paid better, and the line to permanent damage must never be crossed. Works in theory.” The Doctor puts a hand on Jack’s shoulder, his gaze becomes severe, and his pitch rises. “But accidents happen. We both know it. That’s why there are no permanent employees except the bartender and the security guards. If one of the deals ends badly, no one will notice that the volunteer never turns up again, because they’re not expected to turn up again once they’ve got the money they needed. Not all of the deals go well.”
Jack nods. “I know. That’s why I was late.”
The Doctor’s eyes darken. “You’re saying your… customer… did more to you then you’d agreed to?”
“Well… no… not really. He was just very thorough about it. Didn’t think it would take him so long.” He sighs, self-deprecating. “All this, and by the time I got out of there the stalls were closed and I didn’t even get to buy anything.”
The Doctor rolls his eyes. “What were you so desperate to buy, anyway?”
Jack briefly considers evading the question, but figures the Doctor can’t get much angrier at him anyway. “A xero-temporal analyzer and a sonic vector alignment kit.”
The Doctor’s incredulous. “I have dozens of both on board, Jack. Much better ones then you’d find on Esterin V, and in this time. Open any storeroom off the main corridor and odds are you’ll be hit on the head by several tumbling off the shelves.”
Jack looks away. Yes, that’s a very good point. He really wishes he’d thought of that before he came up with his brilliant little plan.
“What do you want with them, anyway? Not like you have a time ship anymore, and I know you know better than wanting to make any changes to the TARDIS without my permission.” There’s a slight growl in the last part of that statement, just enough to let Jack know that he better not prove the Time Lord wrong on this one.
He nods hastily, then stretches out his left arm, indicating the wrist comp. “I wanted to fix it.”
“Your scanner? Thought it worked fine.”
“It’s supposed to be more than just a scanner. It’s also a teleport, and a…” he hesitates, but feels he owes the Doctor the full truth. “And also a time traveling device. It can manipulate the vortex.”
“You travel through the vortex with that flimsy little thing?” The Doctor looks shocked. “Are you daft?” He takes out his sonic screwdriver and begins to run it over the device, frowning.
“Well, it’s only for emergencies, really. Short hops, in and out. For anything major, you’d use a ship. Problem is, they disabled mine when I left the agency. I managed to jam the frequency before they fried it completely, but the teleport and temporal circuits were the first to go.”
There’s a sharp beep and the Doctor pockets his screwdriver again. “Fixed.”
Jack is speechless. He stares at his wrist comp, then at the Time Lord. Then back. “You fixed it?”
“Genius, me. Should’ve known I could.”
“I knew you could, I’d just never have thought that you would.”
The Doctor frowns at him. “Would rather do this than have you pull desperate stunts like today to get it done yourself, wouldn’t I?”
Jack shakes his head in disbelief. “How can you trust me with this?”
“Well… it’s sort of a conditional gift. Will have to disable it if you leave.”
For a moment, Jack’s breath catches. The Doctor said “if you leave.” Not “when.” Does that mean what he hopes it does?
“But with the life we lead, lad, I’d rather know you have a get-out-of-jail-free card for emergencies.”
Jack is confused. “A what card?”
The Doctor rolls his eyes. “Old Earth metaphor. Ask Rose sometimes.”
Jack nods and scratches his ear. This conversation is going very differently from what he’d imagined. But he can tell the Time Lord’s still angry, even if he appears to have calmed down. “So - when do I get the rest?”
Now the Doctor is looking confused. “Of what?”
“My chewing out.”
The Doctor looks rueful. “As I said, not my decision what you do in your free time. Had no right to yell at you in the first place. Even if it wasn’t a particularly smart idea, you’re an adult, and it’s your body. None of my business.”
Even though the words are steady, Jack can see the lie in the Doctor’s eyes. He does mind. Is that just prudishness? Moral standards? Concern for his health? Or is there - yes! Just for a moment, he saw a flicker of jealousy in the Doctor’s eyes. He’s sure of it. And if he’s wrong - well, he’s gone for broke several times today already. What’s one more?
“It would be if it were up to me.”
The Doctor freezes. Stares at him. “What?”
“If it were up to me, my body would be entirely your business.” He pushes himself into a sitting position, and sends the Doctor a smile that leaves no doubt about his meaning.
The Doctor’s mouth is opening and closing. Then, suddenly, he stops and takes a step back. “No.”
“Oh.” Damn. Jack was so sure. Now he’s lost any chance he might have had. Even worse, he’s probably lost his place on the TARDIS for good.
“You don’t have to pay me back.”
Wait, what?
“Jack - long as you’re traveling with me, you’re my companion. That makes me responsible for you. Food, clothes, medical care, repairing your gadget - you don’t have to do anything for me in return for taking care of those things.”
Damn. One deal with Choro, and now the Doctor thinks prostitution is a way of life for him? He stands up, and for a moment he regrets that the Doctor made him get dressed again earlier. Looking the Doctor straight in the eye, making sure his voice leaves no room for doubt, he says “I know that.”
The Doctor takes another step back. “Then why…?”
Jack quickly closes the distance between them, but doesn’t touch. The Doctor seems close enough to bolting as it is. “Because I want to.”
“Jack…” he can see a host of emotions fighting behind the Doctor’s eyes. “Are you sure?”
He’s never been so sure of anything in his life. He nods.
“Because,” the Doctor continues hastily, “if we do this, then - well, Jack, I’m not like you. There’s nothing casual about it for me. If you’re mine, you’re mine. No stupid deals, no adventures on the side, no dashing kisses. Hell, I’ll probably growl at you for flirting, though I admit that’s my issue, not yours. But anything more than that - well, there just couldn’t be anything more than that, because I couldn’t deal with it, and I know it’s different for you, and-”
The Doctor’s so cute when he’s rambling. Still, time to interrupt. “Deal.”
“Wh- what?”
“No flings, no kissing, nothing beyond flirting, and getting growled at for that. Works for me.” He gives the Doctor a brilliant smile.
The Doctor blinks at him, speechless at first. Then he asks, as if he can’t believe what he just heard, “Are you sure? Won’t you miss it?”
“Worth it for what I’m getting. Completely.” He grins, unable to contain his excitement. “When I’m yours, I’m yours.” He leans forward, clearly inviting a kiss. “Deal?”
The Doctor holds perfectly still for a moment, then he leans in, ravaging Jack with his lips, his tongue, and most importantly, his gaze. He kisses like a starving man eats, and Jack wonders how long it has been for the Doctor. When they break the kiss, the Time Lord looks at Jack questioningly for a long moment, then he nods. “Deal.”
Jack smiles, and the Doctor’s face is split apart by the oh-so-familiar manic grin that always makes Jack’s stomach do flip-flops. And this time it’s all for him.
“So…” Jack smiles seductively, fiddling with his zipper. “Would you like to inspect the goods?”
The Doctor’s eyes fill with concern. “Are you up for that? After today?”
Jack shrugs. “You healed the bruises. And really, apart from those, this didn’t do much to me. It was rough, and beyond the line of what I’d call ‘fun,’ but far away from anything that’d really bother me. Honest.” Off the Doctor’s doubtful glance, he adds, “Remember, I volunteered.”
The Doctor flinches at those words. “Stupid ape.”
“Yeah, well, didn’t know I had better options.”
“As I said. Stupid.” The Doctor bites his earlobe - gently, but just hard enough to pinch.
Jack chuckles. “Well, good thing I’m off the market now, huh?”
The Doctor grips him by the shoulders and kisses him hard, relentlessly, almost savagely. But Jack doesn’t miss the fact that the Doctor has one thumb resting on his throat, making sure he can breathe freely. Jack wasn’t lying earlier - he doesn’t mind being dominated during sex, and with the right person, he enjoys it. He has a feeling he’s going to enjoy this a whole lot.
The End
Just what Rose wanted, this morning in the console room, when the Doctor asked her to pick a destination - “Somewhere fun, with lots of weird aliens and such, and absolutely no running for our lives!” The Doctor actually looked a little offended at the last bit, and Jack had to bite his tongue not to remind the Time Lord that in the eight days since he’s started traveling with them, they’ve visited six planets and ended up running for their lives on five of them. And the only reason they didn’t on the sixth was that he’d managed to charm the head executioner into letting them go, as long as they promised never to return. But he didn't point out any of that.
He knows it’s only a matter of time until the Time Lord gets tired of his company and tells him to leave - though by now he’s reasonably sure that he’d be left at a decent space port, not just stranded in some backwater - and he has no desire to bring that moment about any faster. He enjoys this too much. Traveling in the TARDIS, spending time with these two people. Even if he doesn’t quite fit in.
And he can’t deny that he’s got it bad for the Doctor. Rose is beautiful and fun to be with, but every time the Time Lord looks at him, or talks to him a certain way, his breath quickens and he feels a flutter in his stomach. The kind of silly school girl crush he hasn’t had since he was a silly school boy. He sighs. He’s not fool enough to think anything will ever come of it. But he can dream, can’t he?
Right now, they are peacefully wandering along, Rose holding the Doctor’s hand and him following a few steps behind. The blonde and the Time Lord are so deep in conversation that he sometimes thinks they wouldn’t even notice if he disappeared - but then, every once in a while, he sees the Doctor glance back over his shoulder, or Rose half-turns in mid-sentence to ask, “Ain’t that right, Jack?”
Here and there, Rose stops to inspect the trinkets offered by the stallholders - the bazaar sells everything from food over clothes, jewelry, books and art, to technical equipment and spaceship parts. A few times, when Rose seems really enchanted by something, the Doctor hands the merchant some coins and cheerfully puts the item into one of his apparently bottomless jacket pockets. Rose smiles and thanks him, sometimes with a hug, but the Doctor just shakes his head and makes some gruff remark about apes being attracted to shiny things. Rose laughs and lightly slaps him on the forearm, and is rewarded by that manic grin that Jack finds so damn sexy, even if he’d never dare to tell the Doctor so.
Of course, Rose walks right past all the stalls full of gadgets and technical supplies that Jack is itching to examine, but really, that’s just as well. He’s sure someone around here is offering the items he needs, but it’s not like he has a single credit to his name. Everything he owned blew up with the ship. And while the Doctor seems only too glad to indulge Rose, Jack doesn’t want to imagine what would happen if he asked the Time Lord to buy him a xero-temporal analyzer and a sonic vector alignment kit. Not that those would be so terribly expensive in this time, but after the stunt he pulled in 1941, he doesn’t think the Doctor wants him anywhere near temporal technology. That’s why he always stays well away from the console when the Doctor’s flying the TARDIS. He’s dying to learn how to fly the magnificent ship, or at least be allowed to assist, but after the disaster he’s caused with the help of his last time ship and a Chula ambulance, he’s sure the Doctor would give him an earful if he dared to suggest it.
Suddenly, a thought occurs to him. There might be a way to get what he needs. If they aren’t too early… “Doctor, what year is this?”
“Year thirty-six of the Firedove - 5948 standard era. Why?”
“Just wondering.” Jack shrugs, carefully keeping a casual expression, but inside, he’s shouting with glee. An easy fix. Not pleasant, but easy. “Say, would you guys mind if I looked around on my own for a bit? No offence, Rose, but coral earrings and silk gloves don’t really interest me all that much - not until they’re adorning a beautiful woman, that is.” He says the last part with a lascivious smile.
Rose shrugs and looks at the Doctor, who nods. “We’ll be here a while. Meet back at the TARDIS at sunset?”
He nods. Sunset is at least four hours away. More time than he needs, if he hurries. He gives the two of them a cheerful “See ya,” and wanders off, careful to keep his posture relaxed and casual until there are several stalls hiding him from their view.
Then he straightens and hurries in the direction he remembers Choro’s establishment to be. Go in, strike a deal, go through the obligatory medscan, get the stamp, find one of her “exclusive preferences” clients, make sure they’re willing to pay well for what they’re getting, and an hour or so later, he can split his earnings with Choro and go out to find the equipment he needs. Easy as pie.
*****
Half an hour after dark, he’s hurrying towards the alley where the TARDIS is parked. Or was parked. Good God, he hopes they haven’t left yet. Haven’t decided that if he’s late, that’s his problem. If only the damn limp wasn’t slowing him down so much.
He tries to tell himself that it doesn’t matter if they’re gone. That Esterin V is a good place to strike out from, if he finds himself on his own again. That the TARDIS can never be more than a temporary arrangement anyway. But in his mind’s eye he keeps seeing a gruff figure in black leather and with impossibly big ears, and he knows he’ll regret it forever if his tardiness means he’ll never get to see him again.
He sighs with relief when he rounds the corner and sees the familiar blue box. He hurries towards it and tries the door. It’s unlocked.
Inside, he finds Rose lounging on the bench near the console. She jumps up and smiles as she sees him. “Jack!”
The Doctor, bent low over some controls, only glares at him and gruffly declares “There you finally are! Wouldn’t have waited much longer.”
Even as Jack pulls himself up straight and slips the mask of carefree happiness into place, his heart sinks. He’d have left without him. Of course he would have.
“Yep,” Rose grins, “He was just at the point of going out to look for you. Kept telling me about all the shady stuff that goes on below the surface here. I tried to tell him you’d probably just lost track of time. Not like we all have unfailable clocks ticking away in out minds, is it?”
Jack’s heart skips a beat. The Doctor was going to look for him? Does that mean…? But when he looks over at the Doctor, the Time Lord is completely focused on some readings on the console.
Jack draws his attention back to Rose, who’s still talking to him “-out for almost six hours and you didn’t buy anything? Or are you hiding stuff somewhere?” She lets her gaze wander slowly down his body with a playful grin.
He grins back. The flirting banter between them has already become second nature, and they both know that neither of them is serious about it. “Well,” he shrugs, raising his hands in a gesture of mock-helplessness. “It’s hard to find anything truly satisfying if you have my discerning tastes.”
Rose opens her mouth for what he doesn’t doubt will be a sassy comeback when they both hear a sharp intake of breath from the console and turn. The Doctor’s staring at him, but quickly blinks and shifts his gaze to Rose.
“Rose, now that Captain Slowcoach's finally here, why don’t you go put away your new stuff?” He indicates a small pile of bags and parcels by the door to the rest of the TARDIS. There’s something in his voice that Jack can’t place.
He can see that Rose is about to ask what’s going on, but another, almost pleading look from the Doctor makes her shut her mouth and nod. “Yeah, all right. Going to take a shower, too. Nice planet, Esterin V, but dusty.” She gathers up her shopping and disappears.
She’s barely gone when the Doctor crosses the distance between them in two long strides. He grabs Jack’s right wrist and turns it towards him. As he stares at Choro’s med sigil, something that Jack can’t read crosses his face. The Doctor’s jaws are working. After a second, he looks up at Jack, and grunts between clenched teeth, “Med bay. Now.”
“It’s all right, Doctor, I-”
“Now!” The Doctor squeezes his wrist painfully hard for a second before he lets go, turns and strides towards the door. Jack follows as quickly as he can, though his stomach seems to have dropped to his knees. He didn’t expect the Time Lord to spot the tiny sigil. It would have faded by tomorrow, anyway. And he certainly didn’t expect the Doctor to know what it meant. Foolish, he now realizes. Time Lords have superior senses, and the Doctor’s been around for 900 years.
The Doctor throws an impatient glare over his shoulder, but slows down when he notices Jack’s limp. Jack wants to say something, anything to break the silence, but the Doctor’s jaws are still working and he’s holding himself completely rigid, and any attempt at conversation dies on Jack’s lips.
When they reach the med bay, the Doctor locks the door behind them. Jack makes for the nearest bed, but the Doctor stops him with a gesture. “Strip,” he says, and the tone in his voice makes any reply Jack would usually have given to such an order stick in his throat. He obediently takes off his t-shirt and jeans. He’s not wearing anything underneath.
The Doctor circles him, taking in the bruises and abrasions, the cuts, the swollen ankle. For the first time since he can remember, Jack feels truly naked. Normally, he doesn’t mind people seeing him without clothes, but the intensity of the Doctor’s stare and the anger rolling off him in waves make this something else entirely.
The Doctor picks up a scanner and runs it up and down Jack’s body. Then he takes a blood sample - Jack expects to be treated roughly and is honestly surprised when the Doctor’s hands are gentle and the needle doesn’t hurt at all - and runs that through the scanner, too. He studies the results for a moment.
“Well, at least you didn’t pick up anything nasty on your little adventure,” he scoffs.
“Yes. The Time Agency inoculates-”
“You’re not immortal, Captain!” the Doctor snaps, gesturing to his wounds.
“I’ll be fine, I-”
“Yes you will be, if I have anything to say about it.” He picks up a bone regenerator and starts working on Jack's ribs, then the sprained ankle. He avoids Jack’s gaze. Next, he uses a tissue regenerator on Jack’s cuts and bruises, clenching his jaw even tighter at how deep some of them are. It takes a good forty-five minutes, but he doesn’t say a single word. Nor does Jack dare to.
When he’s finished, the Doctor puts down the regenerator and starts rummaging through a drawer. He’s still not looking at Jack. “Get dressed, then lie down,” he orders.
“Doctor, I really don’t need-”
“Captain, it’s none of my business what you do in your spare time, but while you’re on board my ship you’ll follow my orders. Clothes. Bed.”
Jack obeys. If he’s honest, he does feel rather exhausted. The Doctor’s last remark was not lost on him, though. If the Doctor feels it’s none of his business what Jack does outside the TARDIS, why is he this angry?
The Doctor hooks him up to a blood pack - “Matches your type perfectly, no worries,” then runs the scanner over him again. When he’s done, he turns and strides towards the door.
“Doctor, please…” Jack calls after him.
The Time Lord stops, but doesn’t turn back.
“I’m sorry, Doctor. I didn’t think you’d know. Or care, to be honest.”
The Doctor takes a deep, shuddering breath, and slowly turns around. The anger in his eyes has lessened, and is mingled with something else now - pain? But why?
“I just don’t understand, Jack. Good looking lad like you. Must be better places where you can find… company. Even given your… special interests.”
Jack stares at him for a moment, mouth open. “Special interests?” He shakes his head. “Doctor, it’s not like I mind playing it a bit rough sometimes, and yeah, with the right person I can enjoy being dominated, but this is beyond what I’d consider recreational. I didn’t go to Choro’s for the fun of having some rough sex.”
The Doctor flinches. “Then why? What would possess you to go to a place like that if you’re not looking for…?” His voice trails off.
Jack looks at the Doctor in genuine surprise. Surely, a nine-hundred year old Time Lord can’t be that naïve? “What do you think, Doc? Why do people normally strike a deal with Choro?”
The Doctor’s gaping at him, his eyes wide. “You did it for the money? You let someone do all this to you for a few credits?”
“Quite a lot of credits, actually,” Jack says defensively. “And what else could I have done? Not like I had time to grab my valuables when my ship was about to blow up.”
The Doctor’s slowly shaking his head. “And it didn’t occur to you to ask, you foolish ape?”
“Ask you for money? After everything else you’ve already done for me? And I’m not just talking about cleaning up my mess and saving my hide - I’m talking about feeding me, giving me clothes, a place to sleep-”
“And all that didn’t indicate to you that I might be interested in your welfare? By Rassilion, Jack, I have more than enough money to buy the whole bloody bazaar if I wanted to. Or if you wanted me to.”
What? Did the Doctor just say he’d buy him anything he wants?
“Jack.” The Doctor takes a few steps towards him, stands right next to his bed, and looks at him intently. “Choro’s place is legally regulated, I know. Customers have to make it clear what kind of a deal they want, no one’s forced to do more than they’re willing to, people who’re ready to take more get paid better, and the line to permanent damage must never be crossed. Works in theory.” The Doctor puts a hand on Jack’s shoulder, his gaze becomes severe, and his pitch rises. “But accidents happen. We both know it. That’s why there are no permanent employees except the bartender and the security guards. If one of the deals ends badly, no one will notice that the volunteer never turns up again, because they’re not expected to turn up again once they’ve got the money they needed. Not all of the deals go well.”
Jack nods. “I know. That’s why I was late.”
The Doctor’s eyes darken. “You’re saying your… customer… did more to you then you’d agreed to?”
“Well… no… not really. He was just very thorough about it. Didn’t think it would take him so long.” He sighs, self-deprecating. “All this, and by the time I got out of there the stalls were closed and I didn’t even get to buy anything.”
The Doctor rolls his eyes. “What were you so desperate to buy, anyway?”
Jack briefly considers evading the question, but figures the Doctor can’t get much angrier at him anyway. “A xero-temporal analyzer and a sonic vector alignment kit.”
The Doctor’s incredulous. “I have dozens of both on board, Jack. Much better ones then you’d find on Esterin V, and in this time. Open any storeroom off the main corridor and odds are you’ll be hit on the head by several tumbling off the shelves.”
Jack looks away. Yes, that’s a very good point. He really wishes he’d thought of that before he came up with his brilliant little plan.
“What do you want with them, anyway? Not like you have a time ship anymore, and I know you know better than wanting to make any changes to the TARDIS without my permission.” There’s a slight growl in the last part of that statement, just enough to let Jack know that he better not prove the Time Lord wrong on this one.
He nods hastily, then stretches out his left arm, indicating the wrist comp. “I wanted to fix it.”
“Your scanner? Thought it worked fine.”
“It’s supposed to be more than just a scanner. It’s also a teleport, and a…” he hesitates, but feels he owes the Doctor the full truth. “And also a time traveling device. It can manipulate the vortex.”
“You travel through the vortex with that flimsy little thing?” The Doctor looks shocked. “Are you daft?” He takes out his sonic screwdriver and begins to run it over the device, frowning.
“Well, it’s only for emergencies, really. Short hops, in and out. For anything major, you’d use a ship. Problem is, they disabled mine when I left the agency. I managed to jam the frequency before they fried it completely, but the teleport and temporal circuits were the first to go.”
There’s a sharp beep and the Doctor pockets his screwdriver again. “Fixed.”
Jack is speechless. He stares at his wrist comp, then at the Time Lord. Then back. “You fixed it?”
“Genius, me. Should’ve known I could.”
“I knew you could, I’d just never have thought that you would.”
The Doctor frowns at him. “Would rather do this than have you pull desperate stunts like today to get it done yourself, wouldn’t I?”
Jack shakes his head in disbelief. “How can you trust me with this?”
“Well… it’s sort of a conditional gift. Will have to disable it if you leave.”
For a moment, Jack’s breath catches. The Doctor said “if you leave.” Not “when.” Does that mean what he hopes it does?
“But with the life we lead, lad, I’d rather know you have a get-out-of-jail-free card for emergencies.”
Jack is confused. “A what card?”
The Doctor rolls his eyes. “Old Earth metaphor. Ask Rose sometimes.”
Jack nods and scratches his ear. This conversation is going very differently from what he’d imagined. But he can tell the Time Lord’s still angry, even if he appears to have calmed down. “So - when do I get the rest?”
Now the Doctor is looking confused. “Of what?”
“My chewing out.”
The Doctor looks rueful. “As I said, not my decision what you do in your free time. Had no right to yell at you in the first place. Even if it wasn’t a particularly smart idea, you’re an adult, and it’s your body. None of my business.”
Even though the words are steady, Jack can see the lie in the Doctor’s eyes. He does mind. Is that just prudishness? Moral standards? Concern for his health? Or is there - yes! Just for a moment, he saw a flicker of jealousy in the Doctor’s eyes. He’s sure of it. And if he’s wrong - well, he’s gone for broke several times today already. What’s one more?
“It would be if it were up to me.”
The Doctor freezes. Stares at him. “What?”
“If it were up to me, my body would be entirely your business.” He pushes himself into a sitting position, and sends the Doctor a smile that leaves no doubt about his meaning.
The Doctor’s mouth is opening and closing. Then, suddenly, he stops and takes a step back. “No.”
“Oh.” Damn. Jack was so sure. Now he’s lost any chance he might have had. Even worse, he’s probably lost his place on the TARDIS for good.
“You don’t have to pay me back.”
Wait, what?
“Jack - long as you’re traveling with me, you’re my companion. That makes me responsible for you. Food, clothes, medical care, repairing your gadget - you don’t have to do anything for me in return for taking care of those things.”
Damn. One deal with Choro, and now the Doctor thinks prostitution is a way of life for him? He stands up, and for a moment he regrets that the Doctor made him get dressed again earlier. Looking the Doctor straight in the eye, making sure his voice leaves no room for doubt, he says “I know that.”
The Doctor takes another step back. “Then why…?”
Jack quickly closes the distance between them, but doesn’t touch. The Doctor seems close enough to bolting as it is. “Because I want to.”
“Jack…” he can see a host of emotions fighting behind the Doctor’s eyes. “Are you sure?”
He’s never been so sure of anything in his life. He nods.
“Because,” the Doctor continues hastily, “if we do this, then - well, Jack, I’m not like you. There’s nothing casual about it for me. If you’re mine, you’re mine. No stupid deals, no adventures on the side, no dashing kisses. Hell, I’ll probably growl at you for flirting, though I admit that’s my issue, not yours. But anything more than that - well, there just couldn’t be anything more than that, because I couldn’t deal with it, and I know it’s different for you, and-”
The Doctor’s so cute when he’s rambling. Still, time to interrupt. “Deal.”
“Wh- what?”
“No flings, no kissing, nothing beyond flirting, and getting growled at for that. Works for me.” He gives the Doctor a brilliant smile.
The Doctor blinks at him, speechless at first. Then he asks, as if he can’t believe what he just heard, “Are you sure? Won’t you miss it?”
“Worth it for what I’m getting. Completely.” He grins, unable to contain his excitement. “When I’m yours, I’m yours.” He leans forward, clearly inviting a kiss. “Deal?”
The Doctor holds perfectly still for a moment, then he leans in, ravaging Jack with his lips, his tongue, and most importantly, his gaze. He kisses like a starving man eats, and Jack wonders how long it has been for the Doctor. When they break the kiss, the Time Lord looks at Jack questioningly for a long moment, then he nods. “Deal.”
Jack smiles, and the Doctor’s face is split apart by the oh-so-familiar manic grin that always makes Jack’s stomach do flip-flops. And this time it’s all for him.
“So…” Jack smiles seductively, fiddling with his zipper. “Would you like to inspect the goods?”
The Doctor’s eyes fill with concern. “Are you up for that? After today?”
Jack shrugs. “You healed the bruises. And really, apart from those, this didn’t do much to me. It was rough, and beyond the line of what I’d call ‘fun,’ but far away from anything that’d really bother me. Honest.” Off the Doctor’s doubtful glance, he adds, “Remember, I volunteered.”
The Doctor flinches at those words. “Stupid ape.”
“Yeah, well, didn’t know I had better options.”
“As I said. Stupid.” The Doctor bites his earlobe - gently, but just hard enough to pinch.
Jack chuckles. “Well, good thing I’m off the market now, huh?”
The Doctor grips him by the shoulders and kisses him hard, relentlessly, almost savagely. But Jack doesn’t miss the fact that the Doctor has one thumb resting on his throat, making sure he can breathe freely. Jack wasn’t lying earlier - he doesn’t mind being dominated during sex, and with the right person, he enjoys it. He has a feeling he’s going to enjoy this a whole lot.
The End