Fic: Healing Pains (3/5)
Title: Healing Pains (3/5)
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
Chapter Three
They wait. For a night and most of the next day, they wait.
Rose has stopped getting worse, and her vitals are stable, but she's not showing any signs of actual improvement.
The Doctor tells Jack that's normal in this early stage. It's not exactly a lie. But as they wait through another night - Jack finally asleep in his chair and the Doctor propping him up - the Doctor watches the monitors with more and more worry. If only he could get Rose to the TARDIS. But the info-screen says it will be at least three days until the pass reopens. He toys with the idea of trying to procure an air shuttle, but they are all being used by the military to fly supplies into Duladi. They can't be rented, they don't take passengers, and even if Jack's small blaster were a match for a squad of soldiers, Rose is in no condition to be taken into a firefight. They're stuck.
Jack stirs and mumbles in his sleep. The Doctor pulls him closer, but his eyes remain glued on Rose. She's breathing steadily, and she's not dehydrated anymore, but that's due to the IV. There should be signs of natural healing by now, but Rose is stagnant.
Still fast asleep, Jack curls up and beds his head in the Doctor's lap. The back of his head is pressing against the Doctor's groin. The Doctor lets him, but he realizes that he takes no pleasure from it. He tries to tell himself it's just the worry over Rose. Because he has no right for it to be anything else.
He keeps watching the monitors. He'll have to talk to the medics in the morning.
*****
When Jack wakes up with his head in the Doctor's lap, he smiles, and allows himself to snuggle closer. But then he feels the Doctor stiffen - and not in a good way - and sits up. He hides his hurt by rubbing his face until he can produce a smile. "Morning," he says.
"Morning." There's a hint of guilt in the Doctor's eyes. Jack considers kissing it off, but finds he doesn't quite dare. If the Doctor's unwilling to kiss him at the moment, he'd rather not know.
"How is she?" he asks instead.
The Doctor frowns. "Still unchanged. Going to talk to the medics about that today. Should be some signs of improvement by now."
Jack nods worriedly. He gets up and stretches, then feels his pockets. He has a little cash left. "I'm going to wash and get us breakfast."
"Just get it for yourself. Need to stretch our money."
Jack nods, but privately resolves to make the Doctor eat at least a few bites. He walks to the nurses' station to buy access to a wet cell.
When he returns to Rose's bedside, he finds the Doctor talking to the medical director, gesturing wildly. The director has his usual smug, distant expression. "Very well, if you insist. Since she's stable for now, I was going to wait another day before calling in a specialist - to save you the cost, I might point out - but if you want, I will send for Medic Bulil right now. He's our expert for biostructural medicine."
"An' how much does he know about alien cell structures? Will he be able to help her? Or willing to listen?"
"You'd best discuss that with him. I'll have him paged." The director nods at a nurse, who hurries off; he disappears into a flight of private rooms off the other side of the hallway.
"Biostructural medicine?" Jack raises an eyebrow.
"Cell structures and such. Rose's cells aren't renewing. Well, they are, but only just as fast as they're dying off. She's stable, but she's not healing. An' if she stays in this state too long, the strain on her system will become too much and her condition will start to deteriorate."
Jack bites back a curse. Nothing to be gained by getting angry, by demanding to know why he wasn't told this before. He opens the cafeteria bag and hands the Doctor a banana. "There. Eat. No arguments."
The Doctor frowns but obediently peels the fruit. "Told ya to save the money."
"They were free with a breakfast sandwich, and you know I hate the damn things." Well, the second half of this statement is true. And that exactly how much of it the Doctor believes, if his raised eyebrow is anything to go by. Jack takes out his sandwich - stale bread with an unappetizing green paste - and begins to wolf it down.
A tall man in a lab coat approaches Rose's bed. Jack throws a brief look at him, then hurriedly returns his gaze to his sandwich. Medic Bulil only glances at them before he turns to the monitors. While he's studying them, the medical director returns and the two start discussing Rose's stats in fast medical jargon that Jack can't follow.
The Doctor is following, of course, and occasionally tries to comment, but the two ignore him. Probably don't care for an ignorant alien's medical opinion. Since the Doctor's not pushing, Jack assumes that whatever the G'ndulaks are saying makes sense. The Doctor wouldn't hesitate to tell them off if he thought their care of Rose was anything less than ideal - within the constraints of this time and place.
"I need a healthy sample for comparison," Medic Bulil says.
The director points at Jack. "That one's completely healthy."
"You don't say," the Doctor mumbles, loudly enough that the medics can't pretend they didn't hear. The director throws him a brief, irritated glance, then glares at Jack as if his health was a personal affront. "Yeah, well. We were just being cautious."
The Doctor grunts but doesn't comment.
Medic Bulil pulls out a small probe and approaches Jack. "I need a tissue sample."
Jack stretches out his hand without hesitation, keeping his eyes on the probe.
The medic presses it to the inside of his wrist briefly and there's a short, sharp sting. A drop of blood wells up, but then the end of the probe starts glowing in a green light, Jack's wrist warms, and by the time the medic plugs the probe into a hand-held scanner, there's no trace of the small puncture.
Medic Bulil studies the scanner and nods. "Yes, definitely. I can use this to create a molecular reconstitution stimulant."
"Molecular reconstitution stimulant?" Jack asks, because he has no idea what's going on and someone has to explain it to him. Now.
The medic looks up briefly. "I'll use your cells and a preparation I've developed to create a solution that, when fed to her intravenously, will kick-start cell repair. Once it reaches critical mass, her body should be able to maintain it itself."
Jack nods. Sounds great. And a succinct and clear explanation. He smiles at the man with real gratitude. "You need anything more from me?"
The medic frowns. "This will be quite enough." He turns to the Doctor. "If you even want the treatment."
"Course we do! Why wouldn't we?"
The director speaks up. "The treatment is expensive. It's an experimental process developed here. And we'd have to create a batch of the stimulant especially for your species. Seeing how the girl's account is almost empty-"
"What?" the Doctor interrupts. "How can it be empty? The pharmanucleids can't be that expensive!"
"It's not just those. It's the monitoring, the nursing care, the saline-"
"Saline? How much do you charge for bog-standard saline?"
"It may be 'bog-standard' to you, but our own people are put on sulfide solution if we need to keep them hydrated. We had to research your species' blood composition and ideal osmolarity for intravenous hydration, and then manufacture the fluid especially for the girl. And then there's this specialist consultation."
The Doctor huffs. "How much does Rose have left?"
"Enough for one dose of the stimulant or a few more nights in this bed. But not both."
A nod. "Right. Get her on it. We'll have more money before the end of the day."
What? Jack can't believe he heard right. Of course he'll go out again, but the Doctor saying so with such a casual attitude, and without even checking with him - well, that's progress if ever he saw it.
The medical director nods and leaves. Medic Bulil starts to follow, but then turns to Jack and whispers, "Same bar?"
"If the barman's all right with it."
Bulil nods. "See you there then." A small smile. "Yours are the best on any side of the pass."
Jack grins. "Looking forward to it." He is. Their transaction was perfectly pleasant, and the medic's both clean and generous.
As Bulil walks away, Jack gulps and turns back to the Doctor. They spoke very quietly - but Time Lords have excellent hearing.
The Doctor's glaring daggers at Bulil's back. "He's one of your... customers?"
Hardly any point denying it now. Jack nods.
The Doctor makes to storm after Bulil, but Jack grabs his wrist. Hard. "He was clean, he was polite, and he tipped well." A freely-offered service freely bought. Jack wishes the Doctor could see it that way.
The Doctor stops. He's breathing heavily and still staring after the medic. "What did you do with him?"
Jack remains silent.
The Doctor turns to glare at him. "Tell me!"
Jack shakes his head. "Would you feel any better if you knew?"
There's a flicker of doubt in the Doctor's eyes. "Just tell me."
"No." Jack holds up a hand to silence him. "If it were life or death, I would. But it's not. And I do have some standards."
"Standards?" The Doctor tilts his chin up and narrows his eyes.
"I believe if someone's paying me to do a job, I should do it well. He paid for my services. Confidentiality is part of the service."
The Doctor scoffs. "What? There's whore-client privilege now?"
The disdain pierces Jack to the marrow. He puts steel into his voice. "Has been since ancient Greece, actually. Excuse me for taking some pride. Even in my whoring."
The Doctor blinks, and for a moment there's shame in his eyes.
It's just enough to remind Jack that the Doctor's speaking out of hurt, and that he promised him patience. He takes a breath to calm himself.
The Doctor shakes his head. "Doesn't matter anyway. You're not going out again."
"What?" He physically drags the Doctor into a niche between two cupboards. "You're going to let Rose die because you happened to meet one of my customers?"
"Course not." He frees his arm from Jack's grasp with an angry shake. "Never meant for you to go out again."
"Then how do you expect to pay them for the cell treatment? I thought we'd covered this. It's our only option!"
The Doctor shakes his head. "Not sending you out to do that again." He straightens. "Going myself this time."
Jack is gobsmacked. For a moment, his mouth is opening and closing with no words coming out. He'd always thought that only happened in cartoons. "Are you fucking insane?" he finally stammers.
"Only fair." The stubborn expression on the Doctor's face is frighteningly familiar. It's his "nothing you could possibly say would dissuade me" face. Normally, Jack takes it as a sign not to argue, since there's no way to change the Doctor's mind once it's that set on something. But this time, he has to.
"You cannot do that. I won't let you."
"Let me?" the Doctor raises an eyebrow.
"Yeah. Let. I'll stop you, no matter what it takes. This is insane."
The Doctor scoffs. "What, you think I can't do it?"
Jack nods. "Yes, as a matter of fact."
"Think you're that much better at sex than me, eh?" the Doctor grunts.
"Paid sex with strangers?" The flicker of anxiety in the Doctor's eyes only strengthens Jack's resolve. "Damn right I am."
The Doctor sets his jaw stubbornly but doesn't reply.
Jack very deliberately places a hand - shielded from prying eyes with his body - on the Doctor's zip and pokes the soft flesh beneath sharply enough to make him gasp. "Could you even get it up?"
The Doctor chews his lips angrily. "Won't have to, will I? Long as I can use my mouth to blow 'em or turn over and let them... What do they care if I'm flaccid?"
Jack's torn between mocking the Doctor's naivete and feeling touched by it. For all his vast age and knowledge, there still are things that are completely outside the realm of the Doctor's experience. And meaningless sex for money is probably near the top of the list.
Jack can't help himself. He cups the Doctor's face in his hand and strokes his cheek with his thumb. The Doctor closes his eyes, equally helpless to resist the tenderness. "And it's this cluelessness," Jack says softly, "that means I can't let you do this. Much as I appreciate the thought."
The Doctor's eyes open but his cheek still rests in Jack's hand. "They do care?" he asks, and the uncertainty in his voice makes much of Jack's anger drain away.
"Business is a lot more varied than you seem to think. You don't just blow them and let them fuck you. Some want to blow you. Some want to be fucked. Some want you to piss on them, or take them over your knee and spank their asses cherry-red. You do what the customer wants." At the Doctor's worried glance, he corrects himself. "Of course, you can turn down anything you're not comfortable with. But the more business you turn down, the less money you make."
He gently kisses the Doctor's lips. "Trust me. I don't mind the work. I'm good at it. I know how to do it safely. And... You're the most breathtaking being I've ever seen, but I'm more conventionally handsome than you." He pauses, waiting for a reaction to that, but the Doctor just inclines his head.
Jack presses on. "I'll find customers faster. I'll get tipped better. I can make the money Rose needs more quickly and in fewer transactions than you could." He gently squeezes the Doctor's chin and speaks slowly and deliberately. "It'd be insane for you to go out to do a job you abhor of out of some misunderstood notion of fair play. It'd worry me more to wait here knowing you're out there traumatizing yourself than it'll bother me to earn the money myself."
He's almost got him. He can see it in the Doctor's eyes. His lover is almost at the point of letting him go. He just needs one more push, one more excuse not to shoulder this himself.
Jack gestures towards Rose, and the Doctor turns to look at her. "If she wakes up, she'll need you to be here more than me." It's true. Rose loves them both, but the Doctor's her safe haven in terrible storms. As he is Jack's.
The second he says it, the Doctor's eyes soften and Jack knows he's won. With a sound almost like a whimper, the Doctor nods. He turns back and kisses Jack hard, squeezes his ass through his jeans until a disapproving hiss from a nurse makes them break apart. "Be careful. Don't take any risks. Don't do anything you're not comfortable with. Better to turn down business than deal with someone who'll give you trouble."
Jack nods. He knows all this, but the Doctor'll feel better for having lectured him.
"And Jack... Thank you. Much as I'm being an arse about this, I do appreciate what you're doing for Rose."
And just like that, Jack forgives him. He doesn't need an apology - this moment of being allowed to glimpse the Doctor's vulnerability, of being told he's doing the right thing, is enough for him to let go of the hurt and the anger. He smiles, presses a chaste peck on the Doctor's cheek, and slips away before his lover can change his mind.
Go to chapter four.
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
Chapter Three
They wait. For a night and most of the next day, they wait.
Rose has stopped getting worse, and her vitals are stable, but she's not showing any signs of actual improvement.
The Doctor tells Jack that's normal in this early stage. It's not exactly a lie. But as they wait through another night - Jack finally asleep in his chair and the Doctor propping him up - the Doctor watches the monitors with more and more worry. If only he could get Rose to the TARDIS. But the info-screen says it will be at least three days until the pass reopens. He toys with the idea of trying to procure an air shuttle, but they are all being used by the military to fly supplies into Duladi. They can't be rented, they don't take passengers, and even if Jack's small blaster were a match for a squad of soldiers, Rose is in no condition to be taken into a firefight. They're stuck.
Jack stirs and mumbles in his sleep. The Doctor pulls him closer, but his eyes remain glued on Rose. She's breathing steadily, and she's not dehydrated anymore, but that's due to the IV. There should be signs of natural healing by now, but Rose is stagnant.
Still fast asleep, Jack curls up and beds his head in the Doctor's lap. The back of his head is pressing against the Doctor's groin. The Doctor lets him, but he realizes that he takes no pleasure from it. He tries to tell himself it's just the worry over Rose. Because he has no right for it to be anything else.
He keeps watching the monitors. He'll have to talk to the medics in the morning.
*****
When Jack wakes up with his head in the Doctor's lap, he smiles, and allows himself to snuggle closer. But then he feels the Doctor stiffen - and not in a good way - and sits up. He hides his hurt by rubbing his face until he can produce a smile. "Morning," he says.
"Morning." There's a hint of guilt in the Doctor's eyes. Jack considers kissing it off, but finds he doesn't quite dare. If the Doctor's unwilling to kiss him at the moment, he'd rather not know.
"How is she?" he asks instead.
The Doctor frowns. "Still unchanged. Going to talk to the medics about that today. Should be some signs of improvement by now."
Jack nods worriedly. He gets up and stretches, then feels his pockets. He has a little cash left. "I'm going to wash and get us breakfast."
"Just get it for yourself. Need to stretch our money."
Jack nods, but privately resolves to make the Doctor eat at least a few bites. He walks to the nurses' station to buy access to a wet cell.
When he returns to Rose's bedside, he finds the Doctor talking to the medical director, gesturing wildly. The director has his usual smug, distant expression. "Very well, if you insist. Since she's stable for now, I was going to wait another day before calling in a specialist - to save you the cost, I might point out - but if you want, I will send for Medic Bulil right now. He's our expert for biostructural medicine."
"An' how much does he know about alien cell structures? Will he be able to help her? Or willing to listen?"
"You'd best discuss that with him. I'll have him paged." The director nods at a nurse, who hurries off; he disappears into a flight of private rooms off the other side of the hallway.
"Biostructural medicine?" Jack raises an eyebrow.
"Cell structures and such. Rose's cells aren't renewing. Well, they are, but only just as fast as they're dying off. She's stable, but she's not healing. An' if she stays in this state too long, the strain on her system will become too much and her condition will start to deteriorate."
Jack bites back a curse. Nothing to be gained by getting angry, by demanding to know why he wasn't told this before. He opens the cafeteria bag and hands the Doctor a banana. "There. Eat. No arguments."
The Doctor frowns but obediently peels the fruit. "Told ya to save the money."
"They were free with a breakfast sandwich, and you know I hate the damn things." Well, the second half of this statement is true. And that exactly how much of it the Doctor believes, if his raised eyebrow is anything to go by. Jack takes out his sandwich - stale bread with an unappetizing green paste - and begins to wolf it down.
A tall man in a lab coat approaches Rose's bed. Jack throws a brief look at him, then hurriedly returns his gaze to his sandwich. Medic Bulil only glances at them before he turns to the monitors. While he's studying them, the medical director returns and the two start discussing Rose's stats in fast medical jargon that Jack can't follow.
The Doctor is following, of course, and occasionally tries to comment, but the two ignore him. Probably don't care for an ignorant alien's medical opinion. Since the Doctor's not pushing, Jack assumes that whatever the G'ndulaks are saying makes sense. The Doctor wouldn't hesitate to tell them off if he thought their care of Rose was anything less than ideal - within the constraints of this time and place.
"I need a healthy sample for comparison," Medic Bulil says.
The director points at Jack. "That one's completely healthy."
"You don't say," the Doctor mumbles, loudly enough that the medics can't pretend they didn't hear. The director throws him a brief, irritated glance, then glares at Jack as if his health was a personal affront. "Yeah, well. We were just being cautious."
The Doctor grunts but doesn't comment.
Medic Bulil pulls out a small probe and approaches Jack. "I need a tissue sample."
Jack stretches out his hand without hesitation, keeping his eyes on the probe.
The medic presses it to the inside of his wrist briefly and there's a short, sharp sting. A drop of blood wells up, but then the end of the probe starts glowing in a green light, Jack's wrist warms, and by the time the medic plugs the probe into a hand-held scanner, there's no trace of the small puncture.
Medic Bulil studies the scanner and nods. "Yes, definitely. I can use this to create a molecular reconstitution stimulant."
"Molecular reconstitution stimulant?" Jack asks, because he has no idea what's going on and someone has to explain it to him. Now.
The medic looks up briefly. "I'll use your cells and a preparation I've developed to create a solution that, when fed to her intravenously, will kick-start cell repair. Once it reaches critical mass, her body should be able to maintain it itself."
Jack nods. Sounds great. And a succinct and clear explanation. He smiles at the man with real gratitude. "You need anything more from me?"
The medic frowns. "This will be quite enough." He turns to the Doctor. "If you even want the treatment."
"Course we do! Why wouldn't we?"
The director speaks up. "The treatment is expensive. It's an experimental process developed here. And we'd have to create a batch of the stimulant especially for your species. Seeing how the girl's account is almost empty-"
"What?" the Doctor interrupts. "How can it be empty? The pharmanucleids can't be that expensive!"
"It's not just those. It's the monitoring, the nursing care, the saline-"
"Saline? How much do you charge for bog-standard saline?"
"It may be 'bog-standard' to you, but our own people are put on sulfide solution if we need to keep them hydrated. We had to research your species' blood composition and ideal osmolarity for intravenous hydration, and then manufacture the fluid especially for the girl. And then there's this specialist consultation."
The Doctor huffs. "How much does Rose have left?"
"Enough for one dose of the stimulant or a few more nights in this bed. But not both."
A nod. "Right. Get her on it. We'll have more money before the end of the day."
What? Jack can't believe he heard right. Of course he'll go out again, but the Doctor saying so with such a casual attitude, and without even checking with him - well, that's progress if ever he saw it.
The medical director nods and leaves. Medic Bulil starts to follow, but then turns to Jack and whispers, "Same bar?"
"If the barman's all right with it."
Bulil nods. "See you there then." A small smile. "Yours are the best on any side of the pass."
Jack grins. "Looking forward to it." He is. Their transaction was perfectly pleasant, and the medic's both clean and generous.
As Bulil walks away, Jack gulps and turns back to the Doctor. They spoke very quietly - but Time Lords have excellent hearing.
The Doctor's glaring daggers at Bulil's back. "He's one of your... customers?"
Hardly any point denying it now. Jack nods.
The Doctor makes to storm after Bulil, but Jack grabs his wrist. Hard. "He was clean, he was polite, and he tipped well." A freely-offered service freely bought. Jack wishes the Doctor could see it that way.
The Doctor stops. He's breathing heavily and still staring after the medic. "What did you do with him?"
Jack remains silent.
The Doctor turns to glare at him. "Tell me!"
Jack shakes his head. "Would you feel any better if you knew?"
There's a flicker of doubt in the Doctor's eyes. "Just tell me."
"No." Jack holds up a hand to silence him. "If it were life or death, I would. But it's not. And I do have some standards."
"Standards?" The Doctor tilts his chin up and narrows his eyes.
"I believe if someone's paying me to do a job, I should do it well. He paid for my services. Confidentiality is part of the service."
The Doctor scoffs. "What? There's whore-client privilege now?"
The disdain pierces Jack to the marrow. He puts steel into his voice. "Has been since ancient Greece, actually. Excuse me for taking some pride. Even in my whoring."
The Doctor blinks, and for a moment there's shame in his eyes.
It's just enough to remind Jack that the Doctor's speaking out of hurt, and that he promised him patience. He takes a breath to calm himself.
The Doctor shakes his head. "Doesn't matter anyway. You're not going out again."
"What?" He physically drags the Doctor into a niche between two cupboards. "You're going to let Rose die because you happened to meet one of my customers?"
"Course not." He frees his arm from Jack's grasp with an angry shake. "Never meant for you to go out again."
"Then how do you expect to pay them for the cell treatment? I thought we'd covered this. It's our only option!"
The Doctor shakes his head. "Not sending you out to do that again." He straightens. "Going myself this time."
Jack is gobsmacked. For a moment, his mouth is opening and closing with no words coming out. He'd always thought that only happened in cartoons. "Are you fucking insane?" he finally stammers.
"Only fair." The stubborn expression on the Doctor's face is frighteningly familiar. It's his "nothing you could possibly say would dissuade me" face. Normally, Jack takes it as a sign not to argue, since there's no way to change the Doctor's mind once it's that set on something. But this time, he has to.
"You cannot do that. I won't let you."
"Let me?" the Doctor raises an eyebrow.
"Yeah. Let. I'll stop you, no matter what it takes. This is insane."
The Doctor scoffs. "What, you think I can't do it?"
Jack nods. "Yes, as a matter of fact."
"Think you're that much better at sex than me, eh?" the Doctor grunts.
"Paid sex with strangers?" The flicker of anxiety in the Doctor's eyes only strengthens Jack's resolve. "Damn right I am."
The Doctor sets his jaw stubbornly but doesn't reply.
Jack very deliberately places a hand - shielded from prying eyes with his body - on the Doctor's zip and pokes the soft flesh beneath sharply enough to make him gasp. "Could you even get it up?"
The Doctor chews his lips angrily. "Won't have to, will I? Long as I can use my mouth to blow 'em or turn over and let them... What do they care if I'm flaccid?"
Jack's torn between mocking the Doctor's naivete and feeling touched by it. For all his vast age and knowledge, there still are things that are completely outside the realm of the Doctor's experience. And meaningless sex for money is probably near the top of the list.
Jack can't help himself. He cups the Doctor's face in his hand and strokes his cheek with his thumb. The Doctor closes his eyes, equally helpless to resist the tenderness. "And it's this cluelessness," Jack says softly, "that means I can't let you do this. Much as I appreciate the thought."
The Doctor's eyes open but his cheek still rests in Jack's hand. "They do care?" he asks, and the uncertainty in his voice makes much of Jack's anger drain away.
"Business is a lot more varied than you seem to think. You don't just blow them and let them fuck you. Some want to blow you. Some want to be fucked. Some want you to piss on them, or take them over your knee and spank their asses cherry-red. You do what the customer wants." At the Doctor's worried glance, he corrects himself. "Of course, you can turn down anything you're not comfortable with. But the more business you turn down, the less money you make."
He gently kisses the Doctor's lips. "Trust me. I don't mind the work. I'm good at it. I know how to do it safely. And... You're the most breathtaking being I've ever seen, but I'm more conventionally handsome than you." He pauses, waiting for a reaction to that, but the Doctor just inclines his head.
Jack presses on. "I'll find customers faster. I'll get tipped better. I can make the money Rose needs more quickly and in fewer transactions than you could." He gently squeezes the Doctor's chin and speaks slowly and deliberately. "It'd be insane for you to go out to do a job you abhor of out of some misunderstood notion of fair play. It'd worry me more to wait here knowing you're out there traumatizing yourself than it'll bother me to earn the money myself."
He's almost got him. He can see it in the Doctor's eyes. His lover is almost at the point of letting him go. He just needs one more push, one more excuse not to shoulder this himself.
Jack gestures towards Rose, and the Doctor turns to look at her. "If she wakes up, she'll need you to be here more than me." It's true. Rose loves them both, but the Doctor's her safe haven in terrible storms. As he is Jack's.
The second he says it, the Doctor's eyes soften and Jack knows he's won. With a sound almost like a whimper, the Doctor nods. He turns back and kisses Jack hard, squeezes his ass through his jeans until a disapproving hiss from a nurse makes them break apart. "Be careful. Don't take any risks. Don't do anything you're not comfortable with. Better to turn down business than deal with someone who'll give you trouble."
Jack nods. He knows all this, but the Doctor'll feel better for having lectured him.
"And Jack... Thank you. Much as I'm being an arse about this, I do appreciate what you're doing for Rose."
And just like that, Jack forgives him. He doesn't need an apology - this moment of being allowed to glimpse the Doctor's vulnerability, of being told he's doing the right thing, is enough for him to let go of the hurt and the anger. He smiles, presses a chaste peck on the Doctor's cheek, and slips away before his lover can change his mind.
Go to chapter four.