Fic: Origins
Title: Origins
Rating: T
Word count: 973
Characters: Jack, OCs
Timeline/spoilers: pre-Time Agency Jack, spoilers for Fragments and Exit Wounds
Summary: Jack’s future is decided with the flip of a coin.
Challenge: [character] flips a coin
“Oh, go on,” says Zara, and she leans lopsidedly across the table, tentacles falling into the puddle of spilled alcohol on the table. It’s a low-grade dive, not like the places over on the East Coast where waiters come and wipe up a spill practically before it hits the table. “You know you want to, Jaz,” she adds.
He smiles, shrugs, reaches out to push her tentacles off the table. “I want to get off this rock,” he corrects. “Not necessarily the same thing.”
“So?” asks Thay, the third at their table. “How else are you going to get out?” he continues. “Without spreading your legs, and we all know how much you like sex, but it’s not exactly a career, is it?”
Jaz shrugs again. Sex is fantastic - anyone, anywhere, as often as possible - but he doesn’t want to be a whore, not just to get off-planet, not if there are other options. “No,” he says. “Not unless I join the Guild. It’s not what I want to do, you know that.” He makes a face. “Besides, my mother would kill me.”
Zara rolls her eyes, shakes her head so her tentacles swish against her neck. “Your mother’s never approved of you,” she reminds him, and Thay’s nodding, sympathetic but realistic. “What does it matter what she thinks as long as you get out?”
“It matters,” says Jaz. If she doesn’t understand, he won’t explain. They’ve been friends long enough - and besides, she’s drunk. She huffs at him, and he reaches out for his drink, grimaces when he realises he’s already finished it. “It matters,” he says again. “I don’t want to hurt her.”
“But you don’t want to join the Guild anyway,” Zara points out. “Take the Agency’s offer.” She grins, baring teeth. “What’s the downside?” She strikes a pose, imitates the recruitment advertisement. “Time travel, glamour, excitement!”
“Money, a career, a way out,” Thay says, more pragmatic. “You don’t want to be stuck here for the rest of your life.” Thay looks at him for a moment more, shakes his head. “Jaz, seriously. What do you want to do? Really?”
“I…want another drink,” says Jaz, prevaricating. “Zara, your round.” She pouts, as he knew she would, all petulant provocation, and he has to laugh. She’s nothing if not predictable, and he knows he’s nothing less as he digs into his waistband, pulls out his ident chip.
“Oh, c’mon, Jaz, you always give in to her,” complains Thay, but he’s laughing as he says it, more amused than anything else. Jaz shrugs, knows it’s true but doesn’t really care. They have their habits, he and his friends. They know each other too well to bother pretending.
Zara takes the chip and pushes away from the table, staggers through the crowds towards the bar, and they admire her for a moment, and then Thay reaches out and touches Jaz’s shoulder.
“You’re not going to distract me,” he says. “The recruiting officer gave you until Fourth Day to decide, that’s only another two rotations. What are you going to do?”
Jaz smiles ruefully, turns and presses a kiss to Thay’s hand. “If I knew, I’d tell you,” he says, and Thay nods. They’re so close, the three of them, and perhaps that’s part of why Jaz is hesitating. He doesn’t want to lose this. He’s not stupid, he knows change is inevitable - knows if he stays here much longer he won’t survive, not in the silence that has ruled his home ever since the attack that killed both his father and brother - and yet he doesn’t want to lose the relationship with these two wonderful people.
But he can’t stay here.
Zara returns with a tray of drinks precariously balanced in her hand, and Jaz rescues his cocktail, a barely legal and brightly coloured concoction that had been popular on Earth, centuries before. That tempts him, the thought of time travel. History’s always been his favourite subject, and he’s not bad with technology.
And Gray. What if he could find out where Gray is, what if he could find him? Bring him home to their mother?
“Flip a coin,” Zara says, shrugging. She’s bought herself several drinks, downs one in a gulp and slams her glass onto the table. “That’s what they used to do, isn’t it?”
Jaz has to laugh - Zara’s grasp of history isn’t strong, let alone history that isn’t of her own culture. She’s right, though - flipping a coin was used as a way to make decisions on Earth, before they got rid of coinage.
“But he’s got to decide for himself,” Thay protests. “He can’t let a piece of metal choose for him - that’s just chance. This is important.”
“No,” says Jaz, taken with the idea suddenly. He knows the pros and cons about the Agency’s offer, knows the advantages of getting off this planet before the treaty breaks and they’re at war again, knows too that what the recruiting officer was offering is hardly likely to be a reality. This is one decision he’s really not sure he wants to make. “No, I like that. Have to find a coin…” He trails off as Zara, with a triumphant smile, lifts the pendant that habitually hangs around her neck. The necklace is a coin from her home world, pierced through and threaded on a cord. She pulls it from her neck, slides the coin off and hands it to him.
“Jaz,” protests Thay, but it’s half-hearted. Jaz shrugs and sips his drink.
“Head up, you go,” says Zara, and he nods, flips the coin. It lands on the table and all three of them look at it, silent and still amongst the noise and movement of the other patrons.
“Well,” says Thay at last. “Don’t forget us.”
Jaz nods solemnly, looks down at the coin. He’ll sign up tomorrow.
Rating: T
Word count: 973
Characters: Jack, OCs
Timeline/spoilers: pre-Time Agency Jack, spoilers for Fragments and Exit Wounds
Summary: Jack’s future is decided with the flip of a coin.
Challenge: [character] flips a coin
“Oh, go on,” says Zara, and she leans lopsidedly across the table, tentacles falling into the puddle of spilled alcohol on the table. It’s a low-grade dive, not like the places over on the East Coast where waiters come and wipe up a spill practically before it hits the table. “You know you want to, Jaz,” she adds.
He smiles, shrugs, reaches out to push her tentacles off the table. “I want to get off this rock,” he corrects. “Not necessarily the same thing.”
“So?” asks Thay, the third at their table. “How else are you going to get out?” he continues. “Without spreading your legs, and we all know how much you like sex, but it’s not exactly a career, is it?”
Jaz shrugs again. Sex is fantastic - anyone, anywhere, as often as possible - but he doesn’t want to be a whore, not just to get off-planet, not if there are other options. “No,” he says. “Not unless I join the Guild. It’s not what I want to do, you know that.” He makes a face. “Besides, my mother would kill me.”
Zara rolls her eyes, shakes her head so her tentacles swish against her neck. “Your mother’s never approved of you,” she reminds him, and Thay’s nodding, sympathetic but realistic. “What does it matter what she thinks as long as you get out?”
“It matters,” says Jaz. If she doesn’t understand, he won’t explain. They’ve been friends long enough - and besides, she’s drunk. She huffs at him, and he reaches out for his drink, grimaces when he realises he’s already finished it. “It matters,” he says again. “I don’t want to hurt her.”
“But you don’t want to join the Guild anyway,” Zara points out. “Take the Agency’s offer.” She grins, baring teeth. “What’s the downside?” She strikes a pose, imitates the recruitment advertisement. “Time travel, glamour, excitement!”
“Money, a career, a way out,” Thay says, more pragmatic. “You don’t want to be stuck here for the rest of your life.” Thay looks at him for a moment more, shakes his head. “Jaz, seriously. What do you want to do? Really?”
“I…want another drink,” says Jaz, prevaricating. “Zara, your round.” She pouts, as he knew she would, all petulant provocation, and he has to laugh. She’s nothing if not predictable, and he knows he’s nothing less as he digs into his waistband, pulls out his ident chip.
“Oh, c’mon, Jaz, you always give in to her,” complains Thay, but he’s laughing as he says it, more amused than anything else. Jaz shrugs, knows it’s true but doesn’t really care. They have their habits, he and his friends. They know each other too well to bother pretending.
Zara takes the chip and pushes away from the table, staggers through the crowds towards the bar, and they admire her for a moment, and then Thay reaches out and touches Jaz’s shoulder.
“You’re not going to distract me,” he says. “The recruiting officer gave you until Fourth Day to decide, that’s only another two rotations. What are you going to do?”
Jaz smiles ruefully, turns and presses a kiss to Thay’s hand. “If I knew, I’d tell you,” he says, and Thay nods. They’re so close, the three of them, and perhaps that’s part of why Jaz is hesitating. He doesn’t want to lose this. He’s not stupid, he knows change is inevitable - knows if he stays here much longer he won’t survive, not in the silence that has ruled his home ever since the attack that killed both his father and brother - and yet he doesn’t want to lose the relationship with these two wonderful people.
But he can’t stay here.
Zara returns with a tray of drinks precariously balanced in her hand, and Jaz rescues his cocktail, a barely legal and brightly coloured concoction that had been popular on Earth, centuries before. That tempts him, the thought of time travel. History’s always been his favourite subject, and he’s not bad with technology.
And Gray. What if he could find out where Gray is, what if he could find him? Bring him home to their mother?
“Flip a coin,” Zara says, shrugging. She’s bought herself several drinks, downs one in a gulp and slams her glass onto the table. “That’s what they used to do, isn’t it?”
Jaz has to laugh - Zara’s grasp of history isn’t strong, let alone history that isn’t of her own culture. She’s right, though - flipping a coin was used as a way to make decisions on Earth, before they got rid of coinage.
“But he’s got to decide for himself,” Thay protests. “He can’t let a piece of metal choose for him - that’s just chance. This is important.”
“No,” says Jaz, taken with the idea suddenly. He knows the pros and cons about the Agency’s offer, knows the advantages of getting off this planet before the treaty breaks and they’re at war again, knows too that what the recruiting officer was offering is hardly likely to be a reality. This is one decision he’s really not sure he wants to make. “No, I like that. Have to find a coin…” He trails off as Zara, with a triumphant smile, lifts the pendant that habitually hangs around her neck. The necklace is a coin from her home world, pierced through and threaded on a cord. She pulls it from her neck, slides the coin off and hands it to him.
“Jaz,” protests Thay, but it’s half-hearted. Jaz shrugs and sips his drink.
“Head up, you go,” says Zara, and he nods, flips the coin. It lands on the table and all three of them look at it, silent and still amongst the noise and movement of the other patrons.
“Well,” says Thay at last. “Don’t forget us.”
Jaz nods solemnly, looks down at the coin. He’ll sign up tomorrow.