fic: Two Can Play At That Game (16/?)
Title: Two Can Play At That Game
Rating: PG
Spoilers: generally speaking, yes
Disclaimer: I'm too tired to care if they get me
Summary: There's such a thing as being too clever for your own good...
Notes: Beware, Whacko!AU!Muse has gotten to the seriously warped part... Next bit might be a little while since I think I've got more of 18 planned out than 17, though. :(
[Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, and 15.]
**********
Rhys, it turned out, had unknowingly been providing the Doctor with a rather staggering amount of background information regarding the human male's typical reactions to "honey, guess what?" moments, particularly those that hadn't necessarily happened within capital-R Relationships of any standing. Sometimes it was good to step back and get the "normal" perspective, Jack reflected, debriefing the Time Lord over takeaway Chinese in his office. And sometimes it was just a bloody nuisance. "That one I think he's getting from watching too much television," Jack said.
"I didn't think it seemed likely," the Doctor said through a mouthful of noodles. (Jack had aborted a monologue about Marco Polo by pointing out that the Doctor's food was getting cold while he ran his mouth instead of eating with it, but he suspected he was going to be in for it later.) "Even despite some of the physiological differences it's just too absurd --"
Jack held up a hand to quiet the Time Lord as his phone trilled upstairs calling. "Hold that thought, Doctor -- Yeah?"
"The Jones family are here, sir."
"Great, go have lunch with your folks, we can manage without --"
"Not my Joneses, sir. Martha's."
"What? Who -- All right, Ianto, stall them, I'm coming up --" Jack was already up and moving, waving down the Doctor's attempt to follow. "You stay put. Martha! Why did you have to go and call your Mum, for god's sake --"
Several hours later Jack staggered back into the Hub, still reeling. "That's a face," Gwen said.
"...I think I just got married." Jack went down hard onto the sofa, feeling not unlike he was slowly dying of some exotic neurotoxin that replaced brain cells with toffee. It was another few seconds before he registered that the snickering had started. "It's not funny, all right? They started asking Martha who the father was and I had to tell them something."
"They hate you nearly as much as they hate me, Jack," the Doctor said.
"Tell me about it! But I figured at least I can take a punch better than you can. I didn't know her father was going to drag me down to the registry office on the spot and throw chairs around until I signed things!"
"There's still time, though, Captain, the paperwork has to be on file for fifteen days before the ceremony." Bless Tosh for being a grind, although why she'd have that tidbit right at her fingertips... "You could maybe --"
"You weren't there. If it had been up to Clive I'd be on a train to Gretna Green right now. I only got away to come back here because they've kept Martha as a hostage."
That, at least, got the Doctor's attention. "Right, we've got to get her back here before they get it into their heads to start asking her too many questions about prenatal care and due dates."
Or before they get in close enough for a good hug, Jack thought, well acquainted with the rabbity strangeness of close contact with those binary vascular systems. "I don't think they're trying to deprogram her or anything, but if I was reading Francine at all it's going to take some talking to get them to let Martha out of their sight before everything's legal. And even if we can get them to let her stay with us they'll want to be talking to her to plan things --"
"You sound like you're actually going to go through with this marriage idea, Jack."
Jack was a little surprised at that too. "Apparently someone's going to have to, and it's my job to throw myself on the grenades for my people. Martha's part of my team. And so are you, now."
"Never been part of somebody's team before," the Doctor mused, looking touched. "Do we get secret decoder badges?"
"I can't even get you to carry a phone half the time."
"'S not true, I've got Martha's." He went fumbling through his bottomless pockets and came up with an ordinary-looking cellphone. With a thoughtful look the Time Lord started tapping in a text message with his thumbs at an astonishing speed. Clickety clickety pause, clickety pause, clickety clickety clickety -- "They're out shopping with her, if we hurry she thinks we might have a chance for a 'rs-q?'," he announced with a self-satisfied look.
"That's our Martha," Jack said approvingly. Get them in a crowded area, where they won't want to cause a scene --
And?
Rating: PG
Spoilers: generally speaking, yes
Disclaimer: I'm too tired to care if they get me
Summary: There's such a thing as being too clever for your own good...
Notes: Beware, Whacko!AU!Muse has gotten to the seriously warped part... Next bit might be a little while since I think I've got more of 18 planned out than 17, though. :(
[Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, and 15.]
**********
Rhys, it turned out, had unknowingly been providing the Doctor with a rather staggering amount of background information regarding the human male's typical reactions to "honey, guess what?" moments, particularly those that hadn't necessarily happened within capital-R Relationships of any standing. Sometimes it was good to step back and get the "normal" perspective, Jack reflected, debriefing the Time Lord over takeaway Chinese in his office. And sometimes it was just a bloody nuisance. "That one I think he's getting from watching too much television," Jack said.
"I didn't think it seemed likely," the Doctor said through a mouthful of noodles. (Jack had aborted a monologue about Marco Polo by pointing out that the Doctor's food was getting cold while he ran his mouth instead of eating with it, but he suspected he was going to be in for it later.) "Even despite some of the physiological differences it's just too absurd --"
Jack held up a hand to quiet the Time Lord as his phone trilled upstairs calling. "Hold that thought, Doctor -- Yeah?"
"The Jones family are here, sir."
"Great, go have lunch with your folks, we can manage without --"
"Not my Joneses, sir. Martha's."
"What? Who -- All right, Ianto, stall them, I'm coming up --" Jack was already up and moving, waving down the Doctor's attempt to follow. "You stay put. Martha! Why did you have to go and call your Mum, for god's sake --"
Several hours later Jack staggered back into the Hub, still reeling. "That's a face," Gwen said.
"...I think I just got married." Jack went down hard onto the sofa, feeling not unlike he was slowly dying of some exotic neurotoxin that replaced brain cells with toffee. It was another few seconds before he registered that the snickering had started. "It's not funny, all right? They started asking Martha who the father was and I had to tell them something."
"They hate you nearly as much as they hate me, Jack," the Doctor said.
"Tell me about it! But I figured at least I can take a punch better than you can. I didn't know her father was going to drag me down to the registry office on the spot and throw chairs around until I signed things!"
"There's still time, though, Captain, the paperwork has to be on file for fifteen days before the ceremony." Bless Tosh for being a grind, although why she'd have that tidbit right at her fingertips... "You could maybe --"
"You weren't there. If it had been up to Clive I'd be on a train to Gretna Green right now. I only got away to come back here because they've kept Martha as a hostage."
That, at least, got the Doctor's attention. "Right, we've got to get her back here before they get it into their heads to start asking her too many questions about prenatal care and due dates."
Or before they get in close enough for a good hug, Jack thought, well acquainted with the rabbity strangeness of close contact with those binary vascular systems. "I don't think they're trying to deprogram her or anything, but if I was reading Francine at all it's going to take some talking to get them to let Martha out of their sight before everything's legal. And even if we can get them to let her stay with us they'll want to be talking to her to plan things --"
"You sound like you're actually going to go through with this marriage idea, Jack."
Jack was a little surprised at that too. "Apparently someone's going to have to, and it's my job to throw myself on the grenades for my people. Martha's part of my team. And so are you, now."
"Never been part of somebody's team before," the Doctor mused, looking touched. "Do we get secret decoder badges?"
"I can't even get you to carry a phone half the time."
"'S not true, I've got Martha's." He went fumbling through his bottomless pockets and came up with an ordinary-looking cellphone. With a thoughtful look the Time Lord started tapping in a text message with his thumbs at an astonishing speed. Clickety clickety pause, clickety pause, clickety clickety clickety -- "They're out shopping with her, if we hurry she thinks we might have a chance for a 'rs-q?'," he announced with a self-satisfied look.
"That's our Martha," Jack said approvingly. Get them in a crowded area, where they won't want to cause a scene --
And?