Title: Beautiful Stranger
Fandom: Torchwood/Firefly
Characters: Simon Tam/Jack Harkness, River Tam
Rating: PG
Word count: 2,047
Notes: For
sansets, who asked for Five Times Simon Tam and Jack Harkness met randomly in space, though this turned into a little less random. And a lot longer than I intended. Imagine it's Jack from any part of his timeline, use your imagination; after all, we never really know why he's in a place.
One
It was dark in the Tam residence. Night had crept in without notice, blotting out the bright day which Simon, absorbed in study, had completely ignored. He was twelve, and school had finished a few hours ago. The only light was a thin, golden lamp to his side, scattering a dim glow over the room.
"What are you doing here?" came his father's voice from the hall. The threat in his voice made Simon look up from his book. He hadn't heard the door open, after all. Who would cause his father to talk in such a harsh tone?
He stood, creeping as stealthily as he could towards the door, the awkwardness of puberty already beginning to set in. A low voice joined his father's after a long moment, but before Simon could reach it. "You know what I want."
"It is faulty. I have no need for faulty goods," replied Mr. Tam, quieter than before; perhaps he had heard Simon's movements and remembered his presence. Perhaps he had heard the slithering click of the door as it opened or the tap of a floorboard as Simon leaned just a little into the hall. He did not, however, turn his head.
"It wasn't faulty until you got your hands on it," replied the stranger. Though his father and dark shadows stood partially in the way of the tall figure, he could make out short, dark hair and a grim face, all teeth and sharp eyes. Nothing, not even his formal Osiris attire, seemed unusual except his voice. There was an unfamiliar twang to the tone. Perhaps he was from a planet Simon had not yet encountered.
"Get out of my house, Harkness. I have no business with you now."
"Remind me to ask for the payment up front next time," he muttered to himself, but as he turned to back out of the door, his eyes latched onto the almost-child across the hall. He gave a twist of his lips which might, under less tense circumstances, be considered a smile and gave the young boy a friendly salute.
"Who was that, father?" Simon asked as the elegant front door hissed shut. "Was he a tradesman?"
"He was nobody," replied his father. "Get back to your homework."
Simon had forgotten the stranger in ten minutes.
---
Two
Simon didn't make a habit of drinking in bars. He needed a clear mind for what he did; he would never get anywhere with hangovers looming over him. Tonight, though; this didn't count.
That morning, River had left. She was going to the Academy. Of course he was pleased; he had never been more proud of his little sister. It was just... she had always been there. And now he would have to go home from the hospital and there would be a River-shaped hole in his world.
It would be too quiet. So he went to a bar.
It was reasonably quiet, despite it being reasonably late. The shining silver bar and expensive drinks affirmed its status as one of the ‘better' bars, frequented by civil young men and women, mostly, who prided themselves on their sophistication. It was just Simon's place, perched on a slender barstool with his legs akimbo, sipping at some too-bitter drink. Just a ploy to avoid going home, just for another little while.
But it had been over an hour and he was still there, on his second drink and still sipping too slowly. The bar was still next to empty, but a solitary man had just brushed in the cold night air as he strode up to the bar, just a few short feet from Simon.
"I'm here to speak to Mrs. Taniguchi," the man said. Simon's eyes snapped up in time to see him slip the bartender a handful of credits along with a smooth smile. "She's expecting me."
That rich voice rang strangely familiar in Simon's mind. Perhaps he had seen him somewhere before; perhaps he was at the MedAcad. It only took a moment of his curious gaze to have the guy turn his head, flash that charming grin in his direction. "Hey."
"Hello," replied Simon, tilting his head in a nod of recognition. Of course, that recognition was completely false; he couldn't place the face. And it seemed like the kind of face he would remember.
"Nice place, isn't it?" he offered when Simon made no attempt to follow up their greeting.
There was no time to reply beyond another wordless nod, however; the bartender had returned with her arms folded tight against her ribs. "This way, Mr. Harkness."
Harkness. He had heard that before.
He left the bar not long after that.
---
Three
"Mr. Harkness, right?"
The dark-haired man turned, his sharp gaze on Simon as they stood to the side of one of the more tiresome balls. "Does my reputation proceed me?" he asked, his tone almost impatient. Simon wasn't surprised; he had seen him standing here, arms crossed, eyebrows creased, for at least half an hour. He had supposed he was waiting for someone.
"No. I've seen you around," he replied amiably. He had a hint of a smile and the remainder of a sweet drink on his lips. "I'm sorry. My name is Simon Tam."
He offered his hand and, after a short hesitation, the charming smile was switched on and his warm, dry hand enclosed Simon's in a sharp shake. "Jack. As you've already got my surname."
"Are you waiting for someone? If you don't mind me asking."
"Doesn't look like the guy is coming," he said, and his arms unfolded to the shuffle of a dismissive shrug. "I was getting bored anyway."
"You're leaving?"
"I was thinking of it, yeah."
Simon frowned, waving a well-cuffed arm to the floor. "You haven't even danced yet."
An eyebrow arched over an interested eye. "Are you offering, Mr. Tam?"
The pause of consideration didn't drag for long enough. Perhaps that was because he had had the thought lurking like a stranger in the back of his mind since he'd set eyes on him again. "Perhaps."
He moved with grace even before he touched the dance floor. His arm stretched out to take Simon's hand, stepping sideways and out and into a swirl to the gentle, waltzing beat of the dance.
Simon had never had his breath taken away by a dance before.
---
Four
Maybe he shouldn't have been surprised to see that not-quite-a-stranger, Jack Harkness, again; it wasn't as though he hadn't seen him in odd circumstances before. This time, though, it was different.
He had never felt such an intense emotion towards a virtual stranger than this.
He had blood on his fist where his knuckles had broken someone else's skin. One eye was already swelling shut and he could taste the bitter red tang in his mouth where he had bitten down on his tongue. The fight hadn't been pretty.
Harkness didn't have a scratch on him. Simon tugged against the tight bonds around his wrists that held him to this stark, silver chair in the stark, silver Alliance building.
"Liou coe shway duh biao-tze huh hoe-tze duh bun ur-tze!" he hissed. Jack didn't even look across at him; the rutting Fed just kept writing, talking over his shoulder to the guard at the door in a swift, efficient tone.
"Get the boss in here," said the man, finally twisting his neck to nod at the guard. "We've caught a big one."
"Let me go. Right now."
Jack Harkness looked at him with emotionless eyes and a thin lipped smile. "I don't think you're in any position to be making demands, Mr. Tam."
"And you have no right to hold me in here! I've done nothing wrong!"
"Someone else will be the judge of that," he said, his tone as dark as his stare. Simon shut his eyes in frustration, tilting his head back and straining hopelessly against the silvery electric bonds once more.
Abruptly, the power source holding them there snapped off and Simon's arms jerked upwards, surprising him into opening his eyes. Jack was standing at his side.
"What? Are you taking me somewhere?"
"No," he said. His smile seemed inappropriate. "The guard's gone. No one will be back for fifteen minutes."
"Then why have you..."
He offered that big, graceful hand once again. Simon took it. He was pulled to his feet as gracefully as they had danced, that night months ago. Before he knew what they were doing to her. To his sister. "I'm saving you, of course," said Jack. "Go. Get out of here now, and get your sister."
Simon could find no words. This had to be a trick... But how could he turn down the opportunity of escape? He swiftly stepped towards the door, suppressing his doubts.
"Wait. I can't lose this job yet. Hit me with this," demanded Jack, holding up the baton he carried at his waist. Of course, he saw the hesitation. "Do it. Trust me, I'm a big boy, I'll be fine."
With the sound of footsteps in the distance urging him on, Simon took the baton and swung.
He didn't stop to look as he walked out; just cringed at the soft flump of a body to the ground and walked quietly out of the building.
---
Five
The last time Simon saw Jack Harkness, he did not even attempt to be surprised. He thought of the man once in a while; the dance, the escape, that charming smile. But things had changed even more since the last time he had seen him. Years, in fact, had slowly passed and River was once again at his side, however dangerous that location was.
He didn't hesitate in stepping up to him, either. He felt no threat from the man.
He had no need to say a word before those searching eyes were on him again, squinting in the hot Persephone sun. "Mr. Tam."
"I'm starting to think you're following me," he teased. Jack just gave a dismissive chuckle and turned his head again, preparing to carry on to wherever he was going; Simon, though, touched his arm and drew him to a halt. "Wait. I just want... why did you let me go? And how did you know about... about my sister?"
Jack glanced at River, standing silently with the blankest of stares. She shrunk from his gaze and ducked behind Simon.
"She's an important girl," replied Jack. "I have my sources."
Simon pressed, but he would not say more on the subject. People bustled around them in the busy evening traffic, knocking them with heavy cloth bags and bony shoulders. Simon knew he had to get back to Serenity, which he could see just over the way; Jack Harkness, too, looked eager to get going, but neither moved despite their momentary silence.
"Thank you," said River at last, her head poking comically up over Simon's shoulder. "That's what silly Simon's trying to say."
"Well, you're welcome. Both of you. But I have to go," he said, and there was a finality in that which tugged at something in Simon's chest, forcing his heart to beat a little faster.
"Perhaps I'll see you again," he said, but it meant nothing; he knew, just like that, that he wouldn't be seeing this strange man again. There was that lurch of his chest again.
Funny how that turned to a sudden thud of heat through his whole body the moment Jack stepped closer. River giggled close to his ear, startling him, but before he could turn his face to her, Jack had his hot cheek cupped in his hand. "It was an honour to meet you," he said after a short pause. He glanced at River, then, and Simon was glad for the reprieve from that intense stare. "Especially you, River Tam. You're a legend where I'm from."
But it wasn't her he kissed.
It was over too quickly and left Simon as breathless as their dance. As quick as that, Jack was retreating. Simon forced himself to turn, take River's hand, try to walk away.
"Good luck, you two."
For a moment, Simon turned back. "What for?"
"You'll see."
He had never met someone who spoke as cryptically as River, until now.