fic: Two Can Play At That Game (21/?)
Title: Two Can Play At That Game
Rating & Pairing: this is Jack's wedding night, Younger and More Sensitive Viewers should probably just claw their eyes out now to save themselves time
Spoilers: in a general sense
Disclaimer: I'm too tired to care if they get me
Summary: When Martha uses the Chameleon Arch, Jack helps with the Doctor's new life...
Notes: Whacko!AU!Muse still on her frantic tear of going 5 for 5 on the week (and not counting a drabble, at that), but at least I managed to bargain her down from some of her earlier notes for this chapter... {shudder} BTW, I'm pretty sure at this point that there are 9 or 10 chapters of this left to go, so no promises that Muse will be able to keep to this manic schedule but the end is definitely in sight!
[Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, and 20.]
**********
Francine and Clive Jones had softened enough to make a wedding present to their wayward daughter of a night in one of the finest hotels in Cardiff. They would, Jack reflected, have been appalled by the company she had chosen to keep there. "Well, it's hardly a proper orgy, is it? I mean, you'd need a lot more people, and entertainment, and feasting -- mind you, the room service is brilliant --"
"Okay, never mind, forget I said it," Jack said, tempted to clamp a hand over the Doctor's mouth. It was... interesting, this ability to carry on a complex multi-party conversation in the most distracting of circumstances, but at a certain point it started to feel like he was sidestepping the main issue. "It's not a perverted alien ménage à trois, we're just a perfectly ordinary blended family with a Mum and a Dad and a stepdad --"
"And stepmum, if we're going to count his missus," Martha interjected.
"Right, and a meddling telepathic spaceship for a stepmum. Nice and modern."
The Doctor settled his head against Martha with an expression that on any other man's face would have meant boobies, and very possibly did on his as well. (Definitely fonder of girls by natural inclination. Luckily for Jack, his species considered nature a minor inconvenience. They'd all been having a good time, within the limits of Martha's condition.) The always unkempt hair was growing noticeably shaggy these days, haloing out in a tangled brown thicket. "When the hormone levels around here taper off I'm going to be embarrassed enough to throw myself in the bay," he remarked, sounding as if he almost thought it was worth it. Jack's hand met Martha's already exploring a possibility for further repressed memories. "But as you'd probably tell me, that's later." The Doctor started toying lazily with the TARDIS key around Jack's neck. "Why do you keep this on such a short chain? You'd practically have to be kissing her to use it without -- Oh, you don't."
"Lady likes a little sugar if you're gonna --"
"Jack!"
"Hey, which one of us is it who's horned in on somebody else's wedding night?"
"I have a perfectly legitimate reason for being here," the Time Lord puffed himself up like a cat. "Resident expert on the Gallifreyan anatomy, remember?"
"That and he didn't trust you with the dirty pop-up books," Martha quipped, with a grin that made Jack wonder whether she was actually joking.
"You wound me, truly. What was that thing where you got her to meow again?"
"I did not --"
Well, all right, it might not have been an actual meow, as such, but it was still a credibly alien noise, and it still fascinated Jack to think how different the Martha he had known now was inside her slightly cooler skin. (Not nearly as noticable to the touch as his, though, and Jack couldn't help wondering if it was that she was a woman, or that she was with child, or merely that the technology had worked with what it found, translating rather than outright transmuting.) "Oh, that's never going to get old. Does that work on you, too?"
The Doctor squirmed. "Unfortunately males don't have one of those, bloody shame really. You remembered the other bit though, very good," he squeaked as Jack tried again. "You must have got good marks in school if you were half this attentive about it."
"I'm a quick study when I'm interested in the subject." Jack drew a finger down the Doctor's spine, reveling in the delighted shiver as Jack reached his leanly-muscled bum. All that running for your life does a body good --
Emboldened, at last, by this night and that shiver, Jack finally dared to pose a suggestion that had haunted his nights for a hundred years. The Time Lord's face screwed up in thought. "Dunno if the anatomy is really analogous enough."
"What, you haven't ever... of course you haven't. Where's your sense of scientific curiosity, then?"
"All right, so make your case."
So Jack did, almost by reflex at the first, surprised beyond words to have won himself the opportunity to lead for once. To surrender that formidable control to him -- but he was Captain Jack Harkness, after all, and what he didn't know about this literally wasn't worth knowing, and if his own heart was pounding like he'd never thought of doing this before in his life it was only because he was still a little worried about the biology of it, wasn't it? (Despite the mounting evidence that yes, it did work that way quite nicely, thank you.) Or maybe it was the dawning awareness of not being alone in his own skin, of no longer being able to distinguish whose fingers were in whose hair or how many hearts beat within his own chest. Or which of them was swearing so fluently in an all but dead language. 'Seeing God', indeed. So was Jack, right now. And not a distant unattainable god either, but incarnate, regardless of what he ever said about it. Too much, not to fall with him, not to ride that storm all the way down from the sky --
"That was beautiful," Martha said huskily. Jack blinked hard, trying to remember how his own senses connected up to his body.
"Oh, sweetie, I'm sorry, didn't mean to forget about you like --"
Martha shook her head. "That was beautiful," she said again, reaching out to stroke the Doctor's face, smoothing at the crinkles that appeared around his eyes with her thumb. "Very, um... memorable. Even from here."
"I think everybody in this hotel is having a memorable night," Jack said. (Wondering how many elderly businessmen would be found dead with blissful smiles on their faces in the morning.) "You still with us, Doctor?"
"I'm good," the Time Lord said dreamily, eyes still closed, and rolled over to press his face against the curve of Martha's belly. "No, you didn't hear your daddy swearing, you didn't." Jack smiled and curled himself along the Doctor's back. Trying not to let himself believe for an instant that all was finally right with the world, no matter how badly he wanted it to be.
Rating & Pairing: this is Jack's wedding night, Younger and More Sensitive Viewers should probably just claw their eyes out now to save themselves time
Spoilers: in a general sense
Disclaimer: I'm too tired to care if they get me
Summary: When Martha uses the Chameleon Arch, Jack helps with the Doctor's new life...
Notes: Whacko!AU!Muse still on her frantic tear of going 5 for 5 on the week (and not counting a drabble, at that), but at least I managed to bargain her down from some of her earlier notes for this chapter... {shudder} BTW, I'm pretty sure at this point that there are 9 or 10 chapters of this left to go, so no promises that Muse will be able to keep to this manic schedule but the end is definitely in sight!
[Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, and 20.]
**********
Francine and Clive Jones had softened enough to make a wedding present to their wayward daughter of a night in one of the finest hotels in Cardiff. They would, Jack reflected, have been appalled by the company she had chosen to keep there. "Well, it's hardly a proper orgy, is it? I mean, you'd need a lot more people, and entertainment, and feasting -- mind you, the room service is brilliant --"
"Okay, never mind, forget I said it," Jack said, tempted to clamp a hand over the Doctor's mouth. It was... interesting, this ability to carry on a complex multi-party conversation in the most distracting of circumstances, but at a certain point it started to feel like he was sidestepping the main issue. "It's not a perverted alien ménage à trois, we're just a perfectly ordinary blended family with a Mum and a Dad and a stepdad --"
"And stepmum, if we're going to count his missus," Martha interjected.
"Right, and a meddling telepathic spaceship for a stepmum. Nice and modern."
The Doctor settled his head against Martha with an expression that on any other man's face would have meant boobies, and very possibly did on his as well. (Definitely fonder of girls by natural inclination. Luckily for Jack, his species considered nature a minor inconvenience. They'd all been having a good time, within the limits of Martha's condition.) The always unkempt hair was growing noticeably shaggy these days, haloing out in a tangled brown thicket. "When the hormone levels around here taper off I'm going to be embarrassed enough to throw myself in the bay," he remarked, sounding as if he almost thought it was worth it. Jack's hand met Martha's already exploring a possibility for further repressed memories. "But as you'd probably tell me, that's later." The Doctor started toying lazily with the TARDIS key around Jack's neck. "Why do you keep this on such a short chain? You'd practically have to be kissing her to use it without -- Oh, you don't."
"Lady likes a little sugar if you're gonna --"
"Jack!"
"Hey, which one of us is it who's horned in on somebody else's wedding night?"
"I have a perfectly legitimate reason for being here," the Time Lord puffed himself up like a cat. "Resident expert on the Gallifreyan anatomy, remember?"
"That and he didn't trust you with the dirty pop-up books," Martha quipped, with a grin that made Jack wonder whether she was actually joking.
"You wound me, truly. What was that thing where you got her to meow again?"
"I did not --"
Well, all right, it might not have been an actual meow, as such, but it was still a credibly alien noise, and it still fascinated Jack to think how different the Martha he had known now was inside her slightly cooler skin. (Not nearly as noticable to the touch as his, though, and Jack couldn't help wondering if it was that she was a woman, or that she was with child, or merely that the technology had worked with what it found, translating rather than outright transmuting.) "Oh, that's never going to get old. Does that work on you, too?"
The Doctor squirmed. "Unfortunately males don't have one of those, bloody shame really. You remembered the other bit though, very good," he squeaked as Jack tried again. "You must have got good marks in school if you were half this attentive about it."
"I'm a quick study when I'm interested in the subject." Jack drew a finger down the Doctor's spine, reveling in the delighted shiver as Jack reached his leanly-muscled bum. All that running for your life does a body good --
Emboldened, at last, by this night and that shiver, Jack finally dared to pose a suggestion that had haunted his nights for a hundred years. The Time Lord's face screwed up in thought. "Dunno if the anatomy is really analogous enough."
"What, you haven't ever... of course you haven't. Where's your sense of scientific curiosity, then?"
"All right, so make your case."
So Jack did, almost by reflex at the first, surprised beyond words to have won himself the opportunity to lead for once. To surrender that formidable control to him -- but he was Captain Jack Harkness, after all, and what he didn't know about this literally wasn't worth knowing, and if his own heart was pounding like he'd never thought of doing this before in his life it was only because he was still a little worried about the biology of it, wasn't it? (Despite the mounting evidence that yes, it did work that way quite nicely, thank you.) Or maybe it was the dawning awareness of not being alone in his own skin, of no longer being able to distinguish whose fingers were in whose hair or how many hearts beat within his own chest. Or which of them was swearing so fluently in an all but dead language. 'Seeing God', indeed. So was Jack, right now. And not a distant unattainable god either, but incarnate, regardless of what he ever said about it. Too much, not to fall with him, not to ride that storm all the way down from the sky --
"That was beautiful," Martha said huskily. Jack blinked hard, trying to remember how his own senses connected up to his body.
"Oh, sweetie, I'm sorry, didn't mean to forget about you like --"
Martha shook her head. "That was beautiful," she said again, reaching out to stroke the Doctor's face, smoothing at the crinkles that appeared around his eyes with her thumb. "Very, um... memorable. Even from here."
"I think everybody in this hotel is having a memorable night," Jack said. (Wondering how many elderly businessmen would be found dead with blissful smiles on their faces in the morning.) "You still with us, Doctor?"
"I'm good," the Time Lord said dreamily, eyes still closed, and rolled over to press his face against the curve of Martha's belly. "No, you didn't hear your daddy swearing, you didn't." Jack smiled and curled himself along the Doctor's back. Trying not to let himself believe for an instant that all was finally right with the world, no matter how badly he wanted it to be.