tomorrow is another day (10/jack) (pg-13)
the month is basically over, so I can post this here, right?
title: tomorrow is another day
author: phinnia
disclaimer: a wandering minstrel i, a thing of shreds and patches. i own nothing.
pairing: jack/ten
challenge: resolutions at wintercompanion
rating: pg-13
author's note: in which the doctor prevents Children of Earth, fixes Britain's Golden Age (which keeps getting put off) and disappears like the cheshire cat into the shadows.
a/n 2: This may be the first story in an AU, if all the muses are kind to me and the stars are properly aligned. i'm stupidly nervous. this is the first fandomy thing i've written in ages and ages ... AUGH.
"It's not a cure for Indonesian flu."
Jack didn't know the voice, but there was something about the delivery that made him freeze, whip around with one hand on the butt of his gun. "Who the hell are you, and how the hell would you know?"
It seemed as though he was alone on the road for a moment, and then the shadows stirred and revealed a tall, thin man with gravity-defying hair, dressed in brown pinstripes. "Jack..."
"How do you know my name?" He eyed the thin man slowly up and down, a flirty smile replacing the wary expression for the moment. "And more importantly, why don't I know yours?"
"Well, names aren't something you just give away ..."
Something about the words and the inflection, the phrase in question, stirred a long-ago conversation in Jack's mind. "Doctor? Is that you? What the-"
He smiled, spread his hands wide, but there was more than a hint of nervousness in the smile - as though he was expecting to be slapped, or punched, or what have you - and then he started babbling. "Look, I'm sorry - I know, I left you behind - and we need to talk about that, and I'm sorry, so sorry about it, but please listen to me - those aliens you're meeting today do not have a cure for Indonesian flu - what they have is something that will tag the DNA of human children, and eventually these aliens will come back and demand hundreds of children, thousands.."
Jack wasn't sure what he had been about to say or do. He had had a hundred hundred fantasies about what to do when the Doctor reappeared - punch him? give him a piece of his mind? hug him? all three at once? But then there was this bombshell - and this was clearly bigger than his personal problems.
Jack straightened up, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "Okay. What do I do?"
"You can't take it. This is the crucial point. If you don't take it now, then nothing goes wrong later."
"And what about -" Jack bit his tongue, tasting the iron spike of blood. He had sworn he wasn't going to ask.
"Not yet." The Doctor reached out and stroked Jack's hand, his new-dark eyes surprisingly gentle. "You have things to do here, and not just this."
"Right." Jack sighed, turning away. "Thanks."
"Jack." Cool, slender hand on his shoulder, turning him; lips brushing his own - and was that a tongue, seeking entrance? oh, oh - Jack's mouth fell open in half-shock, half-desire, and he reached out eagerly to trace this new Doctor's form, the strong length of him, the beautiful curve of his arse.
It lasted forever, and not long enough.
"For luck." The Doctor smiled in the dark, and melted away into the shadows like something out of Alice in Wonderland.
*
The Doctor sighed as Jack's timeline - and Earth's - settled back into their proper orientation. Bad enough that he'd tossed out Harriet Jones in a fit of temper and threw off the beginning of Britain's Golden Age - this would have done far worse. And besides, Rose would have wanted him to be better to Jack. After losing her to the magma clamp, he'd realized he'd have to do better.
He should probably pay Jack a visit.
Tomorrow.
title: tomorrow is another day
author: phinnia
disclaimer: a wandering minstrel i, a thing of shreds and patches. i own nothing.
pairing: jack/ten
challenge: resolutions at wintercompanion
rating: pg-13
author's note: in which the doctor prevents Children of Earth, fixes Britain's Golden Age (which keeps getting put off) and disappears like the cheshire cat into the shadows.
a/n 2: This may be the first story in an AU, if all the muses are kind to me and the stars are properly aligned. i'm stupidly nervous. this is the first fandomy thing i've written in ages and ages ... AUGH.
"It's not a cure for Indonesian flu."
Jack didn't know the voice, but there was something about the delivery that made him freeze, whip around with one hand on the butt of his gun. "Who the hell are you, and how the hell would you know?"
It seemed as though he was alone on the road for a moment, and then the shadows stirred and revealed a tall, thin man with gravity-defying hair, dressed in brown pinstripes. "Jack..."
"How do you know my name?" He eyed the thin man slowly up and down, a flirty smile replacing the wary expression for the moment. "And more importantly, why don't I know yours?"
"Well, names aren't something you just give away ..."
Something about the words and the inflection, the phrase in question, stirred a long-ago conversation in Jack's mind. "Doctor? Is that you? What the-"
He smiled, spread his hands wide, but there was more than a hint of nervousness in the smile - as though he was expecting to be slapped, or punched, or what have you - and then he started babbling. "Look, I'm sorry - I know, I left you behind - and we need to talk about that, and I'm sorry, so sorry about it, but please listen to me - those aliens you're meeting today do not have a cure for Indonesian flu - what they have is something that will tag the DNA of human children, and eventually these aliens will come back and demand hundreds of children, thousands.."
Jack wasn't sure what he had been about to say or do. He had had a hundred hundred fantasies about what to do when the Doctor reappeared - punch him? give him a piece of his mind? hug him? all three at once? But then there was this bombshell - and this was clearly bigger than his personal problems.
Jack straightened up, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "Okay. What do I do?"
"You can't take it. This is the crucial point. If you don't take it now, then nothing goes wrong later."
"And what about -" Jack bit his tongue, tasting the iron spike of blood. He had sworn he wasn't going to ask.
"Not yet." The Doctor reached out and stroked Jack's hand, his new-dark eyes surprisingly gentle. "You have things to do here, and not just this."
"Right." Jack sighed, turning away. "Thanks."
"Jack." Cool, slender hand on his shoulder, turning him; lips brushing his own - and was that a tongue, seeking entrance? oh, oh - Jack's mouth fell open in half-shock, half-desire, and he reached out eagerly to trace this new Doctor's form, the strong length of him, the beautiful curve of his arse.
It lasted forever, and not long enough.
"For luck." The Doctor smiled in the dark, and melted away into the shadows like something out of Alice in Wonderland.
*
The Doctor sighed as Jack's timeline - and Earth's - settled back into their proper orientation. Bad enough that he'd tossed out Harriet Jones in a fit of temper and threw off the beginning of Britain's Golden Age - this would have done far worse. And besides, Rose would have wanted him to be better to Jack. After losing her to the magma clamp, he'd realized he'd have to do better.
He should probably pay Jack a visit.
Tomorrow.