Fic: Healing Pains (2/5)
Title: Healing Pains (2/5)
Betas: canaana & wendymr
Rating: Adult (swearing, non-explicit and explicit sex, mention of kinks)
Spoilers: The Doctor Dances
Characters: Nine/Jack, Rose, others
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction; the characters are the property of the BBC and used here without permission. No money was made.
Summary: All she wanted to do was go to a bleeding potato museum. She shouldn't have to die for it.
A/N: Written for dshael, who bid on me in the Support Stacie Auction.. This is set in the Deal-verse, but all you really need to know to read it is that Jack and the Doctor got together shortly after Jack joined the TARDIS.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
The Doctor paces by Rose's bed, his eyes darting back and forth between her and the info-screen. The rescue crews are still combing through the rubble in radiation suits, though by now they're unlikely to find any survivors. Anyone exposed to the intense radiation on site for this long is probably dead.
He turns back to Rose. She hasn't regained consciousness once. Probably best. She'd be in agony. And what could he tell her? Her face is drawn and her eyes are sunken in. The Doctor gently strokes her head - and stares in horror as a clump of blonde hair comes away in his hand.
The Doctor curses. It's been three hours. Where the hell is Jack?
He shudders as his brain helpfully supplies vivid images answering that question.
How did he let it come to this? One companion dying of small-minded bureaucracy. The other out there selling his body because the genius Time Lord completely failed to find a more acceptable way out. And him standing here, doing nothing. It's a farce and a tragedy, and he's just an extra, a useless bystander who deserves to lose everything that matters to him - if that didn't entail suffering for the innocent humans he's dragged into this mess.
Oh, he knows Jack will be okay, both physically and mentally. The Time Agency vaccinates its agents against a plethora of diseases from all planets and eras, including anything Jack might otherwise pick up here. And Jack's attitude towards sex is so much more relaxed than his own. The Doctor knows that this is truly just a job to Jack. One he's done before. One he's good at.
But damn it all, the lad's his now.
He chides himself. He doesn't own Jack. Course not. They're exclusive because Jack's willing to give him that, and what's happening right now really has nothing to do with it.
But the mental image of Jack kneeling in a dirty backstreet somewhere, sucking a fat violet cock and doing that little thing with his tongue to another man, makes the Doctor want to vomit. That and the feel of Rose's loose hair in his hand...
It's a good thing Time Lords never cry.
*****
In the back room of a bar not too far from what used to be the museum district, Jack folds a small stack of banknotes and hides them in his left sock. He's secreted his earnings in many small stashes all over his body. This is not the most reputable establishment, and there's no need to make it easy on pickpockets.
He checks his wristcomp. It's been three hours. He's serviced ten customers - all of whom were more than satisfied and tipped well. He has enough for a few more days in the hospital, the meds, and some decent testing now. But nursing care is extra, and he and the Doctor will have to eat something eventually.
There's time for one more.
He re-enters the bar, tosses the barman his ten percent, and looks around, making sure to stand up straight and flex his abs. It's been easy to find customers. Word of the exotic alien with the incredible technique has traveled fast.
He doesn't mind the job. As long as the customer is reasonably clean and doesn't get violent, Jack is happy to do or have done to him whatever is desired.
It's the thought of the Doctor that's making him queasy.
It wasn't a real order, of course not. The Doctor would never order Jack to use his body for sex. Though Jack wouldn't mind if he did. The Time Agency sent him on more than one mission that involved undercover work as a whore or a concubine, and Jack never had a problem with that. It's just casual sex.
But it's not casual for the Doctor. Jack understands enough about Time Lords in general and his Time Lord in particular by now to know that. Exclusivity is not just a preference for the Doctor, it's almost an imperative. Ordering him was the Doctor's attempt to take the responsibility from Jack, shoulder the blame. It was... sweet, in a certain back-handed way, but it won't change the fact that the Doctor will have a very hard time getting over what Jack has done.
If he gets over it at all.
Fuck. Jack knows that despite the Doctor's best intentions, this may still be the death knell for their relationship. But he can't dwell on that now.
Lost in thoughts of his lover, he almost misses the tall man in a lab coat coming towards him. But when Jack notices the stranger's searching eyes, he throws him a sultry smile. "Hello there."
The stranger nods gruffly. "I hear you give the best blow jobs this side of the pass."
Jack licks his lips and makes his eyes gleam. "Gorgeous, I give the best blow jobs on any side of the pass."
*****
The Doctor looks up as a swarm of nurses descend on Rose.
"I want a blood sample," a young medic instructs them, "and a body scan. But for Gauka's sake, get her on pharmanucleids right now. Start with the emergency pack, I'll decide dosage when I see the test results."
"So, you finally decided to help her?" He's trying very hard not to snarl.
The young medic ignores him and continues barking instructions to the nurses, but the medical director, who's been talking to another patient's mother a few beds down, turns to the Doctor. "I told you we'd be happy to help her once you paid. Your other companion just deposited a sizable sum in the girl's account."
Jack's back? The Doctor looks around. Where is he? Damn, he's not scared to face him, is he?
The Doctor hates the thought of what Jack did, yes, but surely the lad knows he won't blame him?
He hears a sharp beep from the direction of Rose's bed and turns back. She's hooked up to two IVs now - pharmanucleids and saline, it looks like - and the medic is scribbling instructions on a chart.
One of the nurses hands the Doctor a data pad. "You're her father?" He nods. "Fill these in. It's an anamnesis - that means the health history of your daughter and your family."
"Know what it means."
"Well, good." Her smile is sugar-sweet and caring, as if she hadn't hurried past Rose's bed dozens of times without sparing her a second glance. "If you have trouble with any of the questions, don't hesitate to ask. Any of the staff will be happy to assist you."
He nods curtly. He doesn't trust himself to speak without letting all of them know where they can shove their sudden warm empathy and personal concern that was so sorely, sorely absent when Rose was just a penniless alien. So he silently focuses on the pad and reads it much more slowly than he has to, scribbles answers and ticks boxes at human speed.
When someone jostles his elbow, he looks up grimly, prepared to snap at the interruption - and finds himself staring in Jack's worried eyes. He quickly schools his face into a smile, but he knows Jack has seen the anger. He should probably explain, but...
"How is she?"
"Weak. But they finally put her on pharmanucleids."
"Was I... will it be in time?"
He nods. "Should be. Hard to be sure."
Jack holds out a small bag to him. "I got us sandwiches."
Food? He spent some of that money on food? The Doctor's about to object when he realizes Jack must be starving. They haven't eaten since breakfast. Truth be told, he could go for a sandwich himself, but knowing what paid for it... He shakes his head. "You have mine. Don't need to eat yet."
Jack hesitates, then nods. "We have chairs now."
"Huh?"
Jack gestures. "They put some chairs by her bed."
Probably part of their "paid service." The Doctor scowls. Or maybe it's just due to the fact that the hospital is starting to get emptier as patients are released or die. There are still many beds out in the corridors, but it's not nearly as crowded as before.
The Doctor's been pacing for hours. He doesn't want to think about what position Jack's spent the last few hours in. So he just nods and sits in on one of the chairs, still scribbling on the pad.
Jack sits in the other, storing the bag with the sandwiches underneath. He takes Rose's hand - the one without the IV - and strokes it carefully. "Hey, sweetheart. I'm back. You're going to be okay now. They put you on some good medication and you'll be fine."
He sighs and turns to the Doctor. "Guess we better not tell her about all this, huh?"
The Doctor looks up sharply. Tell her? Blimey, no. "No reason she needs to know. Think about her century's attitude to sex. The guilt'd kill her."
Jack nods. "Like it's killing you."
He doesn't comment and starts working on the data pad again, re-reading all the questions to make sure he hasn't missed anything.
With a sigh, Jack leans against his shoulder.
He stiffens. What he ought to do is put an arm around Jack's waist and pull him close. No matter what his damn instincts say, that's the right thing to do. The lad's done nothing wrong. It's not his fault the Doctor's stomach is twisted into tight knots. Jack did the only thing they could to save Rose. Time Lord hang-ups about sex really don't matter compared to that. He raises his arm.
But he's hesitated too long. Jack's sat back up, turning his face away. His shoulders are tense and he doesn't say anything.
The Doctor hesitantly reaches out and puts a hand on his shoulder.
Jack shrugs him off. "Don't do me any favors." The casual movement is belied by the raw hurt and anger in his voice.
The Doctor swallows. Jack thinks he blames him. He doesn't - he blames the G'nudulaks, or maybe himself, but he doesn't have the skills to start a conversation about his emotions. Jack's in charge of that in their relationship, and right now he's too hurt and angry to ask the kind of questions that allow the Doctor to put things into words that he could not even admit to himself otherwise. "I can smell them on you," he says instead.
Jack turns sharply. "What?"
He carefully keeps his voice neutral, speaks as if he were explaining an interesting life form or a screwdriver setting. "Their sweat, their pheromones. Their..." He can't say it. The mere thought is slicing his hearts apart. "You're covered in them. I want to just ignore what happened, but-"
Jack's eyes darken and he shoots up. "You finished with that?" He points at the data pad.
The Doctor nods.
"Give it," he demands roughly.
The Doctor hands it over. "Jack..."
"Watch over her." He strides off in the direction of the nurses' station.
*****
Jack buys a sonic shower because it's the cheapest. It makes his teeth rattle and his skin crawl, and it doesn't do anything to soothe his sore muscles and aching knees, but it's guaranteed to get him clean, to remove every molecule of his customers from his body. He uses it on his clothes as well. The nurses would probably charge him more if they knew, but he's done it before and is quick about it.
He tries to tell himself that it's really not the Doctor's fault. Being that possessive and then having to smell almost a dozen other men and women on your lover can't be easy. He finds it hard to empathize with sexual possessiveness, it's such a strange notion to him, but he knows it's very real to the Doctor. Hardwired, he once said.
This will take time. And conversations, when they're both in a better frame of mind to have them.
Goddammit, he's starving. He's going to go back there and eat his sandwich now, no matter if His-High-And-Mightiness is too good to eat food bought with a whore's wages.
Patience, he admonishes himself. One of us needs to keep his feelings in check.
He emerges from the cubicle and walks back to Rose's bed. The Doctor's still in the chair, his elbows on his knees and his face hidden in his hands. He almost looks as if... but no, he wouldn't. Probably just annoyed.
"Do I smell better now?" he grunts. Dammit. Patience!
The Doctor's head snaps around, eyes wide. He gets up and moves to hug Jack, then hesitates. Damn him. So much for the smell being the problem.
"May I...?"
Oh. It wasn't disgust this time. The Doctor's uncertain of his welcome. Damn right, too, way he's been acting. Jack really should-
He steps into the embrace and leans against the Doctor. "Always."
The Doctor's hug tightens. "Sorry. 'M trying."
He burrows into the crook of the Doctor's neck. "Are we going to be okay?"
"Yes." The absolute truth, the complete reassurance in the voice is something only the Doctor can do. One of the things Jack loves about him. One reason why losing the Doctor would be more than just losing a lover - it'd be losing his home, his anchor.
Then the Doctor hems hesitantly, and Jack's guts cramp painfully. "Well... if you're willing to be patient with me, that is."
Patience. "I can do that."
The Doctor gently tilts up his chin and looks at him. "Didn't even ask. Should have. You all right?"
Jack nods. "Yeah. Fine."
"Did it... go okay? Can see you earned well, but did anyone... give you trouble?"
He shakes his head. "No. Good, clean business transactions."
He sees the Doctor frown at "clean," but the Time Lord just nods. "Right. Anything I can do for you?"
Keep holding me. Stop caring about the jobs. Take me right here, right now, show the world I'm yours till you no longer doubt it. "Nah. Just want my sandwich now."
The Doctor nods and lets him go. He turns back to Rose. "She has a bit more color already." He strokes her head, then shakes a clump of hair off his hand. "She's gonna throw a fit when she sees what happened to her hair."
Light-hearted banter. He can do light-hearted banter. He takes the small plastic bag and chooses one of the sandwiches. "We'll tell her she can get your haircut."
The Doctor grins. "You tell her. While I'm in a far-off area of the TARDIS."
Jack grins back. "Deal."
The Doctor raises an eyebrow. "Just like that?"
"Yep." He smirks. "Of course, you'll have to be the one to take her to see Jackie. While I wait for you two in a far-off area of the TARDIS."
The Doctor barks a laugh. "Thought you didn't want me to regenerate? 'Cause Jackie's certain to-"
"Excuse me, gentlemen," a short, heavy-set nurse interrupts. Her name tag says Nurse Luda. "The medical director sent me." She produces a syringe and looks at Jack. "I'm to take a blood sample from you."
"What's he want that for?" The Doctor steps between him and the nurse. "Nothing wrong with Jack."
Nurse Luda's voice rises in pitch. "Oh, don't worry, it's free of charge."
"That's nice. What's it for?"
Her cheeks flush magenta. "We just want to know if... err... Just let me take the sample, please."
Jack's about to nod, mostly because he doesn't care, but the Doctor crosses his arms and shakes his head. "No. If your director wants some of Jack's blood, he's damn well gonna give us an explanation."
Jack heart swells at the protectiveness in his tone. Over a vial of blood. Yeah, the Doctor still loves him.
The nurse huffs and scurries off. The Doctor turns to him and puts a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry. Not getting near you with that needle without a reason."
Jack nods. "Might be best not to fight them, though. We don't want them mad at us. Rose's life depends on them."
The Doctor cocks his head. "You're all right with them taking it?"
Jack shrugs. "It's a sample vial. Won't miss it."
The Doctor nods darkly. "We'll see what reason they give."
Jack sees the medical director striding towards them and gestures with his chin to alert the Doctor. "We'll find out in a minute."
The director stops by Rose's bed. He briefly checks the monitors, then he turns to the men. "Nurse Luda says you want to talk to me?"
The Doctor nods. "What d'you want Jack's blood for?"
The director's smile is patronizing. "We just like to be prepared."
"Prepared for what?" The Doctor squares his shoulders and taps his foot impatiently.
Jack would rather like to get a word in edgewise. The Doctor's overreacting. Maybe they just want to find out if he'd be a compatible donor if Rose needs one?
"Well," the director says. "We heard about how he procured the money he paid us."
What the hell- ?
"Got a problem with that?" The Doctor's tone is challenging, and his stance shows he's ready to strike. Jack leans back and decides to let him handle whatever it is. Clearly, it makes the Doctor feel better to be taking care of Jack, and he enjoys watching. Not that he couldn't deal with the director himself, but seeing the Doctor going Oncoming Storm on his behalf makes him more hopeful about the state of their relationship.
The director shrugs carelessly. "Why would I? It's a legal trade. G'ndulak culture places no restrictions on what people can trade, as long as it's theirs to sell. I just want the hospital to be prepared for the fall-out."
"And what fall-out is that?" the Doctor asks sharply.
"Well, we'd just like to be prepared if a lot of patients with alien STDs start coming in." The director sounds utterly reasonable. "If we know what to expect, we can stock up on medications."
Uh oh. Jack knows the way the Doctor's jaw is moving. They're seconds away from an explosion. He puts a hand on the Doctor's hip and squeezes gently, silently asking him to remain calm.
The Doctor takes a deep breath and pushes into the touch. Jack sees the medical director raise an eyebrow, but luckily he doesn't comment. Very quietly and deliberately, the Doctor says, "Jack is clean."
"Oh, thank Gauka you told me!" The director's voice is dripping with sarcasm. "Because I've certainly never heard that before."
The Doctor nods grimly. "Jack," he begins, still staring at the director. "You willing to give them their sample - even though it'll come up clean?"
"Sure," Jack says quickly. He holds out his arm. "Go ahead, I don't mind."
"Thank you." The director takes out a syringe and a steripad. He swabs the crook of Jack's elbow and gently pulls a sample. "See, that wasn't so hard."
The Doctor grunts. "And you're not charging us for this, right?"
"Oh, absolutely." He smiles in a way that's probably supposed to be reassuring, but just comes across as smug. "It's just for our own preparation. Helps adjusting supplies and profit margins."
Figures that's what he'd care about.
The director turns to Jack. "However, if you want treatment for anything we discover-"
"You won't discover anything!" The Doctor puts a hand on Jack's shoulder and glares.
"We'll see about that. Thank you for your cooperation." With another check of Rose's monitors, the director departs.
Jack covers the Doctor's hand on his shoulder with his own and squeezes. The Doctor looks down, and he smiles up at him gratefully.
The Doctor shrugs, takes a deep breath and sits next to Jack. "I'll have that sandwich now."
Go to chapter three.
Betas: canaana & wendymr
Rating: Adult (swearing, non-explicit and explicit sex, mention of kinks)
Spoilers: The Doctor Dances
Characters: Nine/Jack, Rose, others
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction; the characters are the property of the BBC and used here without permission. No money was made.
Summary: All she wanted to do was go to a bleeding potato museum. She shouldn't have to die for it.
A/N: Written for dshael, who bid on me in the Support Stacie Auction.. This is set in the Deal-verse, but all you really need to know to read it is that Jack and the Doctor got together shortly after Jack joined the TARDIS.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
The Doctor paces by Rose's bed, his eyes darting back and forth between her and the info-screen. The rescue crews are still combing through the rubble in radiation suits, though by now they're unlikely to find any survivors. Anyone exposed to the intense radiation on site for this long is probably dead.
He turns back to Rose. She hasn't regained consciousness once. Probably best. She'd be in agony. And what could he tell her? Her face is drawn and her eyes are sunken in. The Doctor gently strokes her head - and stares in horror as a clump of blonde hair comes away in his hand.
The Doctor curses. It's been three hours. Where the hell is Jack?
He shudders as his brain helpfully supplies vivid images answering that question.
How did he let it come to this? One companion dying of small-minded bureaucracy. The other out there selling his body because the genius Time Lord completely failed to find a more acceptable way out. And him standing here, doing nothing. It's a farce and a tragedy, and he's just an extra, a useless bystander who deserves to lose everything that matters to him - if that didn't entail suffering for the innocent humans he's dragged into this mess.
Oh, he knows Jack will be okay, both physically and mentally. The Time Agency vaccinates its agents against a plethora of diseases from all planets and eras, including anything Jack might otherwise pick up here. And Jack's attitude towards sex is so much more relaxed than his own. The Doctor knows that this is truly just a job to Jack. One he's done before. One he's good at.
But damn it all, the lad's his now.
He chides himself. He doesn't own Jack. Course not. They're exclusive because Jack's willing to give him that, and what's happening right now really has nothing to do with it.
But the mental image of Jack kneeling in a dirty backstreet somewhere, sucking a fat violet cock and doing that little thing with his tongue to another man, makes the Doctor want to vomit. That and the feel of Rose's loose hair in his hand...
It's a good thing Time Lords never cry.
*****
In the back room of a bar not too far from what used to be the museum district, Jack folds a small stack of banknotes and hides them in his left sock. He's secreted his earnings in many small stashes all over his body. This is not the most reputable establishment, and there's no need to make it easy on pickpockets.
He checks his wristcomp. It's been three hours. He's serviced ten customers - all of whom were more than satisfied and tipped well. He has enough for a few more days in the hospital, the meds, and some decent testing now. But nursing care is extra, and he and the Doctor will have to eat something eventually.
There's time for one more.
He re-enters the bar, tosses the barman his ten percent, and looks around, making sure to stand up straight and flex his abs. It's been easy to find customers. Word of the exotic alien with the incredible technique has traveled fast.
He doesn't mind the job. As long as the customer is reasonably clean and doesn't get violent, Jack is happy to do or have done to him whatever is desired.
It's the thought of the Doctor that's making him queasy.
It wasn't a real order, of course not. The Doctor would never order Jack to use his body for sex. Though Jack wouldn't mind if he did. The Time Agency sent him on more than one mission that involved undercover work as a whore or a concubine, and Jack never had a problem with that. It's just casual sex.
But it's not casual for the Doctor. Jack understands enough about Time Lords in general and his Time Lord in particular by now to know that. Exclusivity is not just a preference for the Doctor, it's almost an imperative. Ordering him was the Doctor's attempt to take the responsibility from Jack, shoulder the blame. It was... sweet, in a certain back-handed way, but it won't change the fact that the Doctor will have a very hard time getting over what Jack has done.
If he gets over it at all.
Fuck. Jack knows that despite the Doctor's best intentions, this may still be the death knell for their relationship. But he can't dwell on that now.
Lost in thoughts of his lover, he almost misses the tall man in a lab coat coming towards him. But when Jack notices the stranger's searching eyes, he throws him a sultry smile. "Hello there."
The stranger nods gruffly. "I hear you give the best blow jobs this side of the pass."
Jack licks his lips and makes his eyes gleam. "Gorgeous, I give the best blow jobs on any side of the pass."
*****
The Doctor looks up as a swarm of nurses descend on Rose.
"I want a blood sample," a young medic instructs them, "and a body scan. But for Gauka's sake, get her on pharmanucleids right now. Start with the emergency pack, I'll decide dosage when I see the test results."
"So, you finally decided to help her?" He's trying very hard not to snarl.
The young medic ignores him and continues barking instructions to the nurses, but the medical director, who's been talking to another patient's mother a few beds down, turns to the Doctor. "I told you we'd be happy to help her once you paid. Your other companion just deposited a sizable sum in the girl's account."
Jack's back? The Doctor looks around. Where is he? Damn, he's not scared to face him, is he?
The Doctor hates the thought of what Jack did, yes, but surely the lad knows he won't blame him?
He hears a sharp beep from the direction of Rose's bed and turns back. She's hooked up to two IVs now - pharmanucleids and saline, it looks like - and the medic is scribbling instructions on a chart.
One of the nurses hands the Doctor a data pad. "You're her father?" He nods. "Fill these in. It's an anamnesis - that means the health history of your daughter and your family."
"Know what it means."
"Well, good." Her smile is sugar-sweet and caring, as if she hadn't hurried past Rose's bed dozens of times without sparing her a second glance. "If you have trouble with any of the questions, don't hesitate to ask. Any of the staff will be happy to assist you."
He nods curtly. He doesn't trust himself to speak without letting all of them know where they can shove their sudden warm empathy and personal concern that was so sorely, sorely absent when Rose was just a penniless alien. So he silently focuses on the pad and reads it much more slowly than he has to, scribbles answers and ticks boxes at human speed.
When someone jostles his elbow, he looks up grimly, prepared to snap at the interruption - and finds himself staring in Jack's worried eyes. He quickly schools his face into a smile, but he knows Jack has seen the anger. He should probably explain, but...
"How is she?"
"Weak. But they finally put her on pharmanucleids."
"Was I... will it be in time?"
He nods. "Should be. Hard to be sure."
Jack holds out a small bag to him. "I got us sandwiches."
Food? He spent some of that money on food? The Doctor's about to object when he realizes Jack must be starving. They haven't eaten since breakfast. Truth be told, he could go for a sandwich himself, but knowing what paid for it... He shakes his head. "You have mine. Don't need to eat yet."
Jack hesitates, then nods. "We have chairs now."
"Huh?"
Jack gestures. "They put some chairs by her bed."
Probably part of their "paid service." The Doctor scowls. Or maybe it's just due to the fact that the hospital is starting to get emptier as patients are released or die. There are still many beds out in the corridors, but it's not nearly as crowded as before.
The Doctor's been pacing for hours. He doesn't want to think about what position Jack's spent the last few hours in. So he just nods and sits in on one of the chairs, still scribbling on the pad.
Jack sits in the other, storing the bag with the sandwiches underneath. He takes Rose's hand - the one without the IV - and strokes it carefully. "Hey, sweetheart. I'm back. You're going to be okay now. They put you on some good medication and you'll be fine."
He sighs and turns to the Doctor. "Guess we better not tell her about all this, huh?"
The Doctor looks up sharply. Tell her? Blimey, no. "No reason she needs to know. Think about her century's attitude to sex. The guilt'd kill her."
Jack nods. "Like it's killing you."
He doesn't comment and starts working on the data pad again, re-reading all the questions to make sure he hasn't missed anything.
With a sigh, Jack leans against his shoulder.
He stiffens. What he ought to do is put an arm around Jack's waist and pull him close. No matter what his damn instincts say, that's the right thing to do. The lad's done nothing wrong. It's not his fault the Doctor's stomach is twisted into tight knots. Jack did the only thing they could to save Rose. Time Lord hang-ups about sex really don't matter compared to that. He raises his arm.
But he's hesitated too long. Jack's sat back up, turning his face away. His shoulders are tense and he doesn't say anything.
The Doctor hesitantly reaches out and puts a hand on his shoulder.
Jack shrugs him off. "Don't do me any favors." The casual movement is belied by the raw hurt and anger in his voice.
The Doctor swallows. Jack thinks he blames him. He doesn't - he blames the G'nudulaks, or maybe himself, but he doesn't have the skills to start a conversation about his emotions. Jack's in charge of that in their relationship, and right now he's too hurt and angry to ask the kind of questions that allow the Doctor to put things into words that he could not even admit to himself otherwise. "I can smell them on you," he says instead.
Jack turns sharply. "What?"
He carefully keeps his voice neutral, speaks as if he were explaining an interesting life form or a screwdriver setting. "Their sweat, their pheromones. Their..." He can't say it. The mere thought is slicing his hearts apart. "You're covered in them. I want to just ignore what happened, but-"
Jack's eyes darken and he shoots up. "You finished with that?" He points at the data pad.
The Doctor nods.
"Give it," he demands roughly.
The Doctor hands it over. "Jack..."
"Watch over her." He strides off in the direction of the nurses' station.
*****
Jack buys a sonic shower because it's the cheapest. It makes his teeth rattle and his skin crawl, and it doesn't do anything to soothe his sore muscles and aching knees, but it's guaranteed to get him clean, to remove every molecule of his customers from his body. He uses it on his clothes as well. The nurses would probably charge him more if they knew, but he's done it before and is quick about it.
He tries to tell himself that it's really not the Doctor's fault. Being that possessive and then having to smell almost a dozen other men and women on your lover can't be easy. He finds it hard to empathize with sexual possessiveness, it's such a strange notion to him, but he knows it's very real to the Doctor. Hardwired, he once said.
This will take time. And conversations, when they're both in a better frame of mind to have them.
Goddammit, he's starving. He's going to go back there and eat his sandwich now, no matter if His-High-And-Mightiness is too good to eat food bought with a whore's wages.
Patience, he admonishes himself. One of us needs to keep his feelings in check.
He emerges from the cubicle and walks back to Rose's bed. The Doctor's still in the chair, his elbows on his knees and his face hidden in his hands. He almost looks as if... but no, he wouldn't. Probably just annoyed.
"Do I smell better now?" he grunts. Dammit. Patience!
The Doctor's head snaps around, eyes wide. He gets up and moves to hug Jack, then hesitates. Damn him. So much for the smell being the problem.
"May I...?"
Oh. It wasn't disgust this time. The Doctor's uncertain of his welcome. Damn right, too, way he's been acting. Jack really should-
He steps into the embrace and leans against the Doctor. "Always."
The Doctor's hug tightens. "Sorry. 'M trying."
He burrows into the crook of the Doctor's neck. "Are we going to be okay?"
"Yes." The absolute truth, the complete reassurance in the voice is something only the Doctor can do. One of the things Jack loves about him. One reason why losing the Doctor would be more than just losing a lover - it'd be losing his home, his anchor.
Then the Doctor hems hesitantly, and Jack's guts cramp painfully. "Well... if you're willing to be patient with me, that is."
Patience. "I can do that."
The Doctor gently tilts up his chin and looks at him. "Didn't even ask. Should have. You all right?"
Jack nods. "Yeah. Fine."
"Did it... go okay? Can see you earned well, but did anyone... give you trouble?"
He shakes his head. "No. Good, clean business transactions."
He sees the Doctor frown at "clean," but the Time Lord just nods. "Right. Anything I can do for you?"
Keep holding me. Stop caring about the jobs. Take me right here, right now, show the world I'm yours till you no longer doubt it. "Nah. Just want my sandwich now."
The Doctor nods and lets him go. He turns back to Rose. "She has a bit more color already." He strokes her head, then shakes a clump of hair off his hand. "She's gonna throw a fit when she sees what happened to her hair."
Light-hearted banter. He can do light-hearted banter. He takes the small plastic bag and chooses one of the sandwiches. "We'll tell her she can get your haircut."
The Doctor grins. "You tell her. While I'm in a far-off area of the TARDIS."
Jack grins back. "Deal."
The Doctor raises an eyebrow. "Just like that?"
"Yep." He smirks. "Of course, you'll have to be the one to take her to see Jackie. While I wait for you two in a far-off area of the TARDIS."
The Doctor barks a laugh. "Thought you didn't want me to regenerate? 'Cause Jackie's certain to-"
"Excuse me, gentlemen," a short, heavy-set nurse interrupts. Her name tag says Nurse Luda. "The medical director sent me." She produces a syringe and looks at Jack. "I'm to take a blood sample from you."
"What's he want that for?" The Doctor steps between him and the nurse. "Nothing wrong with Jack."
Nurse Luda's voice rises in pitch. "Oh, don't worry, it's free of charge."
"That's nice. What's it for?"
Her cheeks flush magenta. "We just want to know if... err... Just let me take the sample, please."
Jack's about to nod, mostly because he doesn't care, but the Doctor crosses his arms and shakes his head. "No. If your director wants some of Jack's blood, he's damn well gonna give us an explanation."
Jack heart swells at the protectiveness in his tone. Over a vial of blood. Yeah, the Doctor still loves him.
The nurse huffs and scurries off. The Doctor turns to him and puts a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry. Not getting near you with that needle without a reason."
Jack nods. "Might be best not to fight them, though. We don't want them mad at us. Rose's life depends on them."
The Doctor cocks his head. "You're all right with them taking it?"
Jack shrugs. "It's a sample vial. Won't miss it."
The Doctor nods darkly. "We'll see what reason they give."
Jack sees the medical director striding towards them and gestures with his chin to alert the Doctor. "We'll find out in a minute."
The director stops by Rose's bed. He briefly checks the monitors, then he turns to the men. "Nurse Luda says you want to talk to me?"
The Doctor nods. "What d'you want Jack's blood for?"
The director's smile is patronizing. "We just like to be prepared."
"Prepared for what?" The Doctor squares his shoulders and taps his foot impatiently.
Jack would rather like to get a word in edgewise. The Doctor's overreacting. Maybe they just want to find out if he'd be a compatible donor if Rose needs one?
"Well," the director says. "We heard about how he procured the money he paid us."
What the hell- ?
"Got a problem with that?" The Doctor's tone is challenging, and his stance shows he's ready to strike. Jack leans back and decides to let him handle whatever it is. Clearly, it makes the Doctor feel better to be taking care of Jack, and he enjoys watching. Not that he couldn't deal with the director himself, but seeing the Doctor going Oncoming Storm on his behalf makes him more hopeful about the state of their relationship.
The director shrugs carelessly. "Why would I? It's a legal trade. G'ndulak culture places no restrictions on what people can trade, as long as it's theirs to sell. I just want the hospital to be prepared for the fall-out."
"And what fall-out is that?" the Doctor asks sharply.
"Well, we'd just like to be prepared if a lot of patients with alien STDs start coming in." The director sounds utterly reasonable. "If we know what to expect, we can stock up on medications."
Uh oh. Jack knows the way the Doctor's jaw is moving. They're seconds away from an explosion. He puts a hand on the Doctor's hip and squeezes gently, silently asking him to remain calm.
The Doctor takes a deep breath and pushes into the touch. Jack sees the medical director raise an eyebrow, but luckily he doesn't comment. Very quietly and deliberately, the Doctor says, "Jack is clean."
"Oh, thank Gauka you told me!" The director's voice is dripping with sarcasm. "Because I've certainly never heard that before."
The Doctor nods grimly. "Jack," he begins, still staring at the director. "You willing to give them their sample - even though it'll come up clean?"
"Sure," Jack says quickly. He holds out his arm. "Go ahead, I don't mind."
"Thank you." The director takes out a syringe and a steripad. He swabs the crook of Jack's elbow and gently pulls a sample. "See, that wasn't so hard."
The Doctor grunts. "And you're not charging us for this, right?"
"Oh, absolutely." He smiles in a way that's probably supposed to be reassuring, but just comes across as smug. "It's just for our own preparation. Helps adjusting supplies and profit margins."
Figures that's what he'd care about.
The director turns to Jack. "However, if you want treatment for anything we discover-"
"You won't discover anything!" The Doctor puts a hand on Jack's shoulder and glares.
"We'll see about that. Thank you for your cooperation." With another check of Rose's monitors, the director departs.
Jack covers the Doctor's hand on his shoulder with his own and squeezes. The Doctor looks down, and he smiles up at him gratefully.
The Doctor shrugs, takes a deep breath and sits next to Jack. "I'll have that sandwich now."
Go to chapter three.