fic: Never Say Never Again [1/?]
Title: Never Say Never Again
Rating: R [language and Disturbing Jack-Related Themes]
Spoilers: probably at least through Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang so far as I know at this point
Disclaimer: got my bags packed for the legal boobyhatch already
Summary: Jack's in trouble. Yes, that kind of trouble. What's a pregnant guy to do when the employee handbook says "no guns at the baby shower"...?
Notes: As threatened promised, Whacko!AU!Muse presents the epic sequel to " Two Can Play At That Game", running in installments until y'all band together and lynch me. Dunno about overall length yet or where it's ultimately heading; I've got a few more chapters ready to go already, so Reader Response would be nice for gauging whether it's worth carving out time to post more over the weekend...
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*Mummy?*
Yargh. Jack rolled over and looked at the clock. Too early. Nightmares about hearing children calling for their Mummies should have the decency to come at an hour when you could plausibly give up on sleep and go do something useful --
*Mummy?*
Hang about, that wasn't a dream-voice. Jack wasn't especially psychic, but he did know the difference. And the woman sharing his bed may have been born human, but since a daring act of devotion with Time Lord technology two hearts beat blood through a telepathic brain... "Is that you, Martha?"
"S'zat me wha'?"
*Mummy, where are you?*
*Ssh, I'm here,* Jack tried thinking towards the mental voice. It seemed to like that. It seemed to like that a lot. "Something's telepathically calling for its Mummy, Martha. You and him didn't, um..."
"Hell no," Martha said, sleepily but engaged now. "Not since that first time. And I don't think I'm compatible with you. Not that I've been doing the Time Lord fertility dance anyway."
*Mummy.* Sounding almost content, now that Jack had addressed it. *Mummy's here, you're my Mummy.*
"I suppose we'd better head in to the Hub and start some scans," Jack said, rubbing a hand across his face. "If we've got a lost alien baby out there that's projecting strong enough for me to pick it up --"
"I still don't hear anything, Jack," Martha said, making to roll over and go back to sleep. "Either you're imagining it or you're the one who's pregnant."
*MummyMummyMummy!*
"...Oh, shit."
Rating: R [language and Disturbing Jack-Related Themes]
Spoilers: probably at least through Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang so far as I know at this point
Disclaimer: got my bags packed for the legal boobyhatch already
Summary: Jack's in trouble. Yes, that kind of trouble. What's a pregnant guy to do when the employee handbook says "no guns at the baby shower"...?
Notes: As threatened promised, Whacko!AU!Muse presents the epic sequel to " Two Can Play At That Game", running in installments until y'all band together and lynch me. Dunno about overall length yet or where it's ultimately heading; I've got a few more chapters ready to go already, so Reader Response would be nice for gauging whether it's worth carving out time to post more over the weekend...
**********
*Mummy?*
Yargh. Jack rolled over and looked at the clock. Too early. Nightmares about hearing children calling for their Mummies should have the decency to come at an hour when you could plausibly give up on sleep and go do something useful --
*Mummy?*
Hang about, that wasn't a dream-voice. Jack wasn't especially psychic, but he did know the difference. And the woman sharing his bed may have been born human, but since a daring act of devotion with Time Lord technology two hearts beat blood through a telepathic brain... "Is that you, Martha?"
"S'zat me wha'?"
*Mummy, where are you?*
*Ssh, I'm here,* Jack tried thinking towards the mental voice. It seemed to like that. It seemed to like that a lot. "Something's telepathically calling for its Mummy, Martha. You and him didn't, um..."
"Hell no," Martha said, sleepily but engaged now. "Not since that first time. And I don't think I'm compatible with you. Not that I've been doing the Time Lord fertility dance anyway."
*Mummy.* Sounding almost content, now that Jack had addressed it. *Mummy's here, you're my Mummy.*
"I suppose we'd better head in to the Hub and start some scans," Jack said, rubbing a hand across his face. "If we've got a lost alien baby out there that's projecting strong enough for me to pick it up --"
"I still don't hear anything, Jack," Martha said, making to roll over and go back to sleep. "Either you're imagining it or you're the one who's pregnant."
*MummyMummyMummy!*
"...Oh, shit."