FIC: Out of Synch (Doctor Who: Ten/Jack) [PG-13]
dwsanta reveals are up! Yay, now I can go and answer my comments. :D
This is the fic I wrote - alas, no one guessed it:
Title: Out of Synch
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Jack Harkness
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: none
Summary: It didn't seem the most likely place to find an adventure. But the TARDIS must have had a reason for bringing him here. - Post-Planet of the Dead, the Tenth Doctor is travelling on his own. (3,233 words)
A/N: Written for plaid_slytherin in the dwsanta exchange 2010. - Many thanks to my lovely betas, fluffyllama and wojelah!
Originally posted here - comments are welcome in either place!
~*~
The Doctor opened the TARDIS door a fraction and peeked out. No one to be seen. With a bright smile he threw open the door, straightened his spine and strolled out, turning around on the spot once and taking in the bland, generic cargo hold. Metal-plated walls in rusty-brown, pipes and conduits along the ceiling, stark artificial light, painted symbols that seemed faintly familiar, and a pervasive smell of coolant - about as generic as it came.
"All right, then!" he announced to no one in particular and bounced on his feet. "Let's have a look-see."
His voice echoed faintly from the walls, and no one replied. The Doctor sighed. It had been four weeks since he'd turned Lady Christina away, and it was getting a bit ... well, silent, he supposed. Yes, just a bit silent, what with only him to keep up the conversation.
Unbidden, Donna's face appeared to his mind's eye. No. The way he'd lost her, what he'd been forced to do to her - that had been one loss too many.
Better silence than the alternative.
With a decisive slap to the opening button on the bulkhead the Doctor put an end to that train of thought. The large doors split apart and opened with a metallic whinge, and he stepped into a corridor every bit as nondescript and empty as the cargo hold.
Down the corridor: still no sign of life. Judging by the dust and the corroded panelling, this place must have been abandoned long ago. It didn't seem the most likely place to find an adventure. But the TARDIS must have had a reason for bringing him here - she generally did. The Doctor grinned to himself. He couldn't wait to see what she'd found for him this time.
Further along, past an intersection, around a bend - -
- - and someone barrelled into him, running him over, tumbling them both to the floor.
Oh.
The Doctor glared up at the man who'd managed to - of course! - land right on top of him. "What have you done now?" he asked by way of a greeting.
A cheeky grin from above him. "No time, Doctor." Jack Harkness - because of course it was Jack - jumped to his feet and held out a hand. "Run!"
The Doctor answered the grin. Adventure had found him, after all.
And off they were, hand in hand, up the corridor again, back where the Doctor had come from.
"Who are we running from anyway?" he asked as they rushed along, their coats flying behind them. Metallic sounds seemed to be following them.
"Security," Jack said cryptically. Then: "TARDIS?"
"This way!"
"Good! Better than an escape pod. The security systems still interfere with my wristcomp."
And there they were already, rushing into the cargo hold just as their pursuers seemed to be catching up. The Doctor only caught a glimpse of vaguely human-shaped figures, then the TARDIS door closed behind them.
"Let's get out of here," Jack said, letting go of the Doctor's hand.
What, no flirting? The Doctor felt his skin prickle in foreboding. He followed Jack to the console and gave him his best challenging glare.
Jack rolled his eyes. "Please."
Jack probably had his reasons. But the Doctor wanted an explanation, and quickly.
All right, then. A quick nip into the vortex, then back - that would do the trick. Same time, but a couple hundred metres from where they'd been, outside the vessel, in space. And another glare at Jack. "Well?"
Jack was watching the console displays with narrowed eyes.
The Doctor frowned at a sensor read-out. "Wait a minute ..."
The vessel exploded.
"Good riddance," Jack muttered harshly.
The Doctor's head snapped up. What was going on here? "Beg pardon?" He narrowed his eyes at Jack and reminded himself of what he'd sensed immediately but dismissed: This wasn't the same Jack he'd seen last. This man was older. How much older he wasn't sure, but ...
"Did you just kill that ship's crew?" It was a question he'd never have asked before, a question he wouldn't have needed to ask. But time meant change, and when you had literally forever, there was no limit to the amount of change you could go through. Did he even still know this man?
"What?" Jack threw him a surprised look. "No. The thing was automated. Robots only."
"Ah." Sheer relief. But what came out of his mouth was, "Did you have to blow things up? Always with the violence. That's ... so you, actually." More anger than the situation warranted, the usual fond exasperation muted - it was easier to channel his feelings into this than admit the truth.
Jack leaned back against the console, his expression closed off. He didn't respond.
"What was that all about? And what are you doing here anyway, in this century?" The Doctor paced around the console, impatient. "We're out of temporal synch. How far?"
A wry grin. "That would be telling."
"Jack!"
"Temporal Prime Directive," Jack sing-songed and winked at him, but there was sadness in his eyes. Just what was it that he knew?
Besides, Star Trek references? The Doctor pulled a grimace. "You spent too much time in the 20th century."
Jack merely grinned at him and stretched lazily. As if he didn't have a care in the world. As if he hadn't just blown up a ship, for reasons unknown.
Something clenched unpleasantly in the Doctor's stomach. Familiar mannerisms might mean nothing. Perhaps he didn't know this Jack at all. Perhaps he'd long lost him. What could he expect, from someone with eternity ahead of him? What was even a Time Lord's life span compared to that?
True eternity. Inconceivable. He shuddered.
No. No, he didn't want to see this. Didn't want to see another friend changed beyond recognition. Couldn't, could not stand that any more.
Abruptly he turned to Jack again. "So! Where do I let you out?"
Jack stiffened for a moment, then, obviously deliberately, relaxed again. He made a show of pouting. "In a rush?"
"Places to be, you know - I can't hang around here forever."
Jack rolled his eyes. "Fine, have it your way. There should be a convoy of Kruthian trade ships nearby, en route from the Kruthian homeworld to Ch'tra'yn."
"Right." The Doctor turned round to set the co-ordinates. It only took a moment, then the TARDIS materialised on one of the ships.
"Here we are." Was that relief he felt, or dread? He wasn't sure any more. The Doctor narrowed his eyes at Jack again. Best defence and all that. "No more blowing up ships, all right?"
Jack's expression was closed. "Are you ever going to trust me?" An exasperated gesture. "Whatever."
"What?"
Jack seemed on a roll. "Don't even think about touching my vortex manipulator. Not this time."
The Doctor blinked in astonishment. Where was that coming from?
"Not this time," Jack repeated. "I swear I'll knock you down if you try." His eyes burned with everything that might have been different, everything he and others might have been spared if only ...
The Doctor couldn't suppress a flinch. He didn't know what had happened, or when, but something had cut Jack deeply. Maybe ...
"Jack ..."
"Whatever." Jack turned on his heel and stalked towards the door. "Thanks for the short-cut out." And he was gone.
The Doctor stared after him for a moment. Then he huffed. Fine. Walk away. Abruptly he turned to the TARDIS console, turned several controls, entered coordinates, moved a lever. The high-pitched whine of the dematerialisation sequence began to sound.
Jack ...
With a growl of frustration, the Doctor slammed down the lever again. The sound stopped abruptly. A few long strides took him to the door, and he stepped out, right in front of Jack, who was watching with some bemusement. Of course he'd noticed the aborted dematerialisation. Of course he had.
"Ahem." The Doctor cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. "It occurs to me if you're resorting to blowing up spaceships, you've probably got some trouble. Need a hand?" He gave Jack his best puppy-dog expression.
~*~
"Right. This is a new trade route, from Kruth to Ch'tra'yn," Jack explained. He'd evidently decided not to look a gift Doctor in the mouth.
Good; the Doctor didn't feel like explaining himself just now. He had a feeling he'd overreacted a bit, and that was just embarrassing.
Besides, he still didn't know just how much older this Jack was, or just how much out of temporal synch they might be. What this Jack might know about things that lay in the Doctor's future.
He will knock four times ...
The Doctor forced the thought away.
"They didn't used to have much direct contact until some time last year," Jack continued. "They used to go through Erwruun until they raised their tariffs. So, new trade route, all nice and good - and then they were attacked. Thought it was pirates."
"I gather it wasn't."
"Nope." Jack grinned, humourlessly. "I was on one of the ships in the convoy - I got to know the captain, and she ... but that's neither here nor there. There was an attack, and I recognised the sensor readings." Jack looked down at his boots and grimaced. "It's Tisari warships, Doctor."
"Relics from the Singularity War?"
Jack nodded. "Nearly five millennia old. You know Tis wasn't far from here."
The Doctor shuddered. The Singularity War had its name from the weapon that had ended it - a controlled singularity, a miniature black hole, slammed into the Tisari homeworld by the Klll. It had extinguished most of the Tisari race. All that remained was a devastated desert of a planet, torn apart by immense gravitational forces.
That, and relics like these, old robotic warships still intent on fulfilling a mission that had been obsolete for millennia.
Remnants of a time long past. Like him.
The Doctor pressed his lips together. "Did you have to blow them up?"
"I don't have deactivation codes. I'm sorry." Jack didn't look particularly apologetic. "And they'd already killed too many people."
No arguing with that. Between an artefact and people's lives ...
"Well ..." The Doctor nodded, slowly, tugging at his earlobe. "You're not wrong."
Jack's lips twitched, but he said nothing, just raised his eyebrows in triumph.
The Doctor took refuge in rambling. "Did I ever tell you about the times I visited Tis? Brilliant people. I loved it there. And they had these little ..." His throat constricted, and he had to be silent for a moment. Then he looked up, looked straight into Jack's eyes. "I know the codes. Well, the TARDIS does. Let's lay these ships to rest, shall we?"
Jack nodded solemnly. "Let's."
~*~
It was almost absurdly simple. The TARDIS, equipped with the proper codes and, of course, superior sensor systems, quickly located a surviving Tisari command satellite and brought them there.
Jack looked around the deserted, dusty command centre, drew his shoulders in uncomfortably, then stretched himself upright again with deliberation. "Looks a bit like the Game Station."
Huh? "What are you talking about? This looks nothing like ..."
"After," Jack interrupted him tersely.
"Oh." The Doctor looked away uncomfortably. He didn't like to remember that he'd abandoned Jack on that station of the dead, with Dalek dust for company. "Well, you'd know, I suppose."
"No supposing about it." Jack took off his coat and hung it over a railing, rolled up his sleeves. "All right, let's get this show on the road."
Soon they were elbows-deep into the innards of the main console, restoring operations to the positronic systems, enough to get a status report. After that it was only a matter of hours. Some transducers reconnected, some degraded crystal oscillators replaced, the main relay circuit rewired ... then the positronic computer announced all relevant systems were online and standing by.
The Doctor, a dark expression on his face, entered his codes. The satellite's hyperspace radio came to life and sent out deactivation signals.
On the screen, they could watch the few remaining Tisari warships power down. It was over.
Too quickly. Too easily. But the last emissaries of Tis had gone down without complications, without a fight. There would be no more dead from a millennia-old war.
Jack looked at the Doctor with a strange expression. Then he walked over to where he'd put his coat down and pulled a bottle and two duraglass champagne flutes from its pockets. Where had he got those? And when?
Never mind.
"To Tis," Jack said quietly and poured for them both.
After a moment, the Doctor took one of the glasses. "To Tis," he repeated. "Rest in peace."
~*~
They sat side by side on the dusty metal floor, leaning back against the console they'd worked on. The Doctor said nothing, and Jack said nothing either. Occasionally they clinked glasses and grinned at each other, or bumped shoulders companionably. They sat like that for a long time.
Finally it was the Doctor who broke the silence. "Jack ..." He tugged at his earlobe, then rubbed the back of his neck nervously.
"Doc?"
The Doctor looked at him. "Travel with me for a while?"
Jack snorted.
"Hey!"
"Oh, come on, it's funny. First you can't wait to get rid of me, and then ..." A regretful smile. "Better not risk it. We're out of synch; it's too dangerous."
"Point."
"Besides, you don't really mean it."
A hard glare. "Don't I? I asked."
"You never meant it. Not really." Bone-deep conviction.
Gone was the companionable mood from moments ago. They were glaring at each other.
The Doctor slammed his palm down on the floor in frustration. "Is that really what you believe? What more do you want - I asked you to come with me! More than once, even. But it's never good enough for you, is it?" He drummed his fingers against the metal, then let out a frustrated sigh. There'd been a time, long ago, when things had been easy between them. There was no getting that back, obviously, moments of camaraderie aside. Another thing lost. Another friend lost. "Right."
"Damn you, Doctor ..." Jack wiped a hand over his face, pinched the bridge of his nose. Then he seemed to come to some sort of conclusion. "Tell me." His voice was hoarse. "Tell me what you want. And if I can, I'll give it to you. You know I will."
Would he? Would he truly? The Doctor wanted to believe it. But he wasn't sure he dared.
A deep breath. "Fine, I'll tell you." He leaned back against the console and closed his eyes. "I want to stop losing people. Everyone who travels with me, I always lose them. Even you - you can't even die, and I'm still losing you more each time." He opened his eyes again, looked Jack directly in the eye, unsure of what he'd find there.
Jack was scowling. "If you really wanted to keep me, you could." And because he was Jack, of course he couldn't resist underlining the innuendo with a leer. Then he leaned forward, clear challenge in his eyes, the set of his chin, in his posture. "I'll stay if you want, temporal prime directive be damned. You know that - you've always known it."
And he meant it; he really meant it. Completely. The Doctor looked at him in wonder. Jack might not be entirely sanguine about the Doctor's intentions, but he meant it.
The Doctor swallowed around the lump in his throat. "You still want this. You really still want me. Even after everything. I don't ..." He twitched. "What am I supposed to do with that?"
He didn't deserve it. But it was obvious that he had it anyway; this was not a gift he could refuse. It had already been given long ago.
"Doctor ..."
"In the end, I disappoint everyone. I'm not the hero they think I am. I leave them. I don't give them what they need, and they leave me. Either that, or they die. But you ..."
You won't do either.
If you're disappointed, you just refuse to let it matter.
He knew what Jack was thinking: The Doctor underestimated his companions. That was even true; he often did, marvellous people that they were. But at the same time, he was speaking the truth, and Jack must know it: He himself had lived it, after all. Meeting the Doctor, putting him on a pedestal, living through the painful experience of having him knocked off.
Loving him anyway.
Loving him anyway, for reasons unknown.
Oh, he tried, he kept trying, even if he was a coward, even if he could be cruel and thoughtless and high-handed at times. He knew it; he didn't deny it. But no one could live up to that hero's image, not even a Time Lord, not even he, much as he hated to admit that.
He shuddered, a sense of foreboding overcoming him. "He will knock four times," he quoted under his breath.
Jack started. "Ah. That's when you're from."
It was like being doused with ice water, hearing those words. It took a moment before he overcame the shock.
Finally the Doctor leaned forward, intently. "You know. You know how that ends."
Jack merely smiled, knowingly, sadly.
"Jack."
But he knew. There was nothing that was safe to say. He knew, and he hated it. He slumped back.
Jack was still smiling slightly. "So what's it to be?"
The Doctor rubbed a hand across his face. "You were right," he admitted. "We're too far out of synch." He watched as Jack's expression began to close, then he continued, "So, not this time. But soon. Well, for you - I don't know how long it'll take me to catch up with you. But I will."
Jack's eyes grew soft again, and he reached out. His hand stopped barely an inch before he would have touched the Doctor's cheek; then he lowered his arm again. "I'll hold you to that," he said hoarsely.
"Do." And the Doctor reached out himself, not stopping, cupping Jack's cheek, and drew him in for a kiss.
Jack's eyes, shocked and blue, burned themselves into his mind.
~*~
He took Jack back to the Kruthian convoy, afterwards. It was a good thing they had almost all of time ahead of them; their timing clearly was nothing to be proud of. Jack would still be there. He wasn't going to lose him. Jack would always be there.
When the TARDIS materialised on the Kruthian ship, Jack stood ready.
They looked at each other for a long moment.
"Sorry," the Doctor finally said. "About ..." He waved his hand vaguely. "You know."
Jack smiled at him fondly. "I know," he said and pressed a final kiss against the Doctor's lips. Then he turned around and strolled to the door, waving his hand in good-bye. Leaving.
There was a spring in Jack's step, and his coat billowed dashingly behind him. Sure of himself, comfortable in his skin. I want that, the Doctor thought. I want to be that.
But Jack was going.
And he was letting him go.
Alone again, he smiled wryly at himself. One day.
Not yet, but one day.
One day soon, he hoped.
~end~
This is the fic I wrote - alas, no one guessed it:
Title: Out of Synch
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Jack Harkness
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: none
Summary: It didn't seem the most likely place to find an adventure. But the TARDIS must have had a reason for bringing him here. - Post-Planet of the Dead, the Tenth Doctor is travelling on his own. (3,233 words)
A/N: Written for plaid_slytherin in the dwsanta exchange 2010. - Many thanks to my lovely betas, fluffyllama and wojelah!
Originally posted here - comments are welcome in either place!
~*~
The Doctor opened the TARDIS door a fraction and peeked out. No one to be seen. With a bright smile he threw open the door, straightened his spine and strolled out, turning around on the spot once and taking in the bland, generic cargo hold. Metal-plated walls in rusty-brown, pipes and conduits along the ceiling, stark artificial light, painted symbols that seemed faintly familiar, and a pervasive smell of coolant - about as generic as it came.
"All right, then!" he announced to no one in particular and bounced on his feet. "Let's have a look-see."
His voice echoed faintly from the walls, and no one replied. The Doctor sighed. It had been four weeks since he'd turned Lady Christina away, and it was getting a bit ... well, silent, he supposed. Yes, just a bit silent, what with only him to keep up the conversation.
Unbidden, Donna's face appeared to his mind's eye. No. The way he'd lost her, what he'd been forced to do to her - that had been one loss too many.
Better silence than the alternative.
With a decisive slap to the opening button on the bulkhead the Doctor put an end to that train of thought. The large doors split apart and opened with a metallic whinge, and he stepped into a corridor every bit as nondescript and empty as the cargo hold.
Down the corridor: still no sign of life. Judging by the dust and the corroded panelling, this place must have been abandoned long ago. It didn't seem the most likely place to find an adventure. But the TARDIS must have had a reason for bringing him here - she generally did. The Doctor grinned to himself. He couldn't wait to see what she'd found for him this time.
Further along, past an intersection, around a bend - -
- - and someone barrelled into him, running him over, tumbling them both to the floor.
Oh.
The Doctor glared up at the man who'd managed to - of course! - land right on top of him. "What have you done now?" he asked by way of a greeting.
A cheeky grin from above him. "No time, Doctor." Jack Harkness - because of course it was Jack - jumped to his feet and held out a hand. "Run!"
The Doctor answered the grin. Adventure had found him, after all.
And off they were, hand in hand, up the corridor again, back where the Doctor had come from.
"Who are we running from anyway?" he asked as they rushed along, their coats flying behind them. Metallic sounds seemed to be following them.
"Security," Jack said cryptically. Then: "TARDIS?"
"This way!"
"Good! Better than an escape pod. The security systems still interfere with my wristcomp."
And there they were already, rushing into the cargo hold just as their pursuers seemed to be catching up. The Doctor only caught a glimpse of vaguely human-shaped figures, then the TARDIS door closed behind them.
"Let's get out of here," Jack said, letting go of the Doctor's hand.
What, no flirting? The Doctor felt his skin prickle in foreboding. He followed Jack to the console and gave him his best challenging glare.
Jack rolled his eyes. "Please."
Jack probably had his reasons. But the Doctor wanted an explanation, and quickly.
All right, then. A quick nip into the vortex, then back - that would do the trick. Same time, but a couple hundred metres from where they'd been, outside the vessel, in space. And another glare at Jack. "Well?"
Jack was watching the console displays with narrowed eyes.
The Doctor frowned at a sensor read-out. "Wait a minute ..."
The vessel exploded.
"Good riddance," Jack muttered harshly.
The Doctor's head snapped up. What was going on here? "Beg pardon?" He narrowed his eyes at Jack and reminded himself of what he'd sensed immediately but dismissed: This wasn't the same Jack he'd seen last. This man was older. How much older he wasn't sure, but ...
"Did you just kill that ship's crew?" It was a question he'd never have asked before, a question he wouldn't have needed to ask. But time meant change, and when you had literally forever, there was no limit to the amount of change you could go through. Did he even still know this man?
"What?" Jack threw him a surprised look. "No. The thing was automated. Robots only."
"Ah." Sheer relief. But what came out of his mouth was, "Did you have to blow things up? Always with the violence. That's ... so you, actually." More anger than the situation warranted, the usual fond exasperation muted - it was easier to channel his feelings into this than admit the truth.
Jack leaned back against the console, his expression closed off. He didn't respond.
"What was that all about? And what are you doing here anyway, in this century?" The Doctor paced around the console, impatient. "We're out of temporal synch. How far?"
A wry grin. "That would be telling."
"Jack!"
"Temporal Prime Directive," Jack sing-songed and winked at him, but there was sadness in his eyes. Just what was it that he knew?
Besides, Star Trek references? The Doctor pulled a grimace. "You spent too much time in the 20th century."
Jack merely grinned at him and stretched lazily. As if he didn't have a care in the world. As if he hadn't just blown up a ship, for reasons unknown.
Something clenched unpleasantly in the Doctor's stomach. Familiar mannerisms might mean nothing. Perhaps he didn't know this Jack at all. Perhaps he'd long lost him. What could he expect, from someone with eternity ahead of him? What was even a Time Lord's life span compared to that?
True eternity. Inconceivable. He shuddered.
No. No, he didn't want to see this. Didn't want to see another friend changed beyond recognition. Couldn't, could not stand that any more.
Abruptly he turned to Jack again. "So! Where do I let you out?"
Jack stiffened for a moment, then, obviously deliberately, relaxed again. He made a show of pouting. "In a rush?"
"Places to be, you know - I can't hang around here forever."
Jack rolled his eyes. "Fine, have it your way. There should be a convoy of Kruthian trade ships nearby, en route from the Kruthian homeworld to Ch'tra'yn."
"Right." The Doctor turned round to set the co-ordinates. It only took a moment, then the TARDIS materialised on one of the ships.
"Here we are." Was that relief he felt, or dread? He wasn't sure any more. The Doctor narrowed his eyes at Jack again. Best defence and all that. "No more blowing up ships, all right?"
Jack's expression was closed. "Are you ever going to trust me?" An exasperated gesture. "Whatever."
"What?"
Jack seemed on a roll. "Don't even think about touching my vortex manipulator. Not this time."
The Doctor blinked in astonishment. Where was that coming from?
"Not this time," Jack repeated. "I swear I'll knock you down if you try." His eyes burned with everything that might have been different, everything he and others might have been spared if only ...
The Doctor couldn't suppress a flinch. He didn't know what had happened, or when, but something had cut Jack deeply. Maybe ...
"Jack ..."
"Whatever." Jack turned on his heel and stalked towards the door. "Thanks for the short-cut out." And he was gone.
The Doctor stared after him for a moment. Then he huffed. Fine. Walk away. Abruptly he turned to the TARDIS console, turned several controls, entered coordinates, moved a lever. The high-pitched whine of the dematerialisation sequence began to sound.
Jack ...
With a growl of frustration, the Doctor slammed down the lever again. The sound stopped abruptly. A few long strides took him to the door, and he stepped out, right in front of Jack, who was watching with some bemusement. Of course he'd noticed the aborted dematerialisation. Of course he had.
"Ahem." The Doctor cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. "It occurs to me if you're resorting to blowing up spaceships, you've probably got some trouble. Need a hand?" He gave Jack his best puppy-dog expression.
~*~
"Right. This is a new trade route, from Kruth to Ch'tra'yn," Jack explained. He'd evidently decided not to look a gift Doctor in the mouth.
Good; the Doctor didn't feel like explaining himself just now. He had a feeling he'd overreacted a bit, and that was just embarrassing.
Besides, he still didn't know just how much older this Jack was, or just how much out of temporal synch they might be. What this Jack might know about things that lay in the Doctor's future.
He will knock four times ...
The Doctor forced the thought away.
"They didn't used to have much direct contact until some time last year," Jack continued. "They used to go through Erwruun until they raised their tariffs. So, new trade route, all nice and good - and then they were attacked. Thought it was pirates."
"I gather it wasn't."
"Nope." Jack grinned, humourlessly. "I was on one of the ships in the convoy - I got to know the captain, and she ... but that's neither here nor there. There was an attack, and I recognised the sensor readings." Jack looked down at his boots and grimaced. "It's Tisari warships, Doctor."
"Relics from the Singularity War?"
Jack nodded. "Nearly five millennia old. You know Tis wasn't far from here."
The Doctor shuddered. The Singularity War had its name from the weapon that had ended it - a controlled singularity, a miniature black hole, slammed into the Tisari homeworld by the Klll. It had extinguished most of the Tisari race. All that remained was a devastated desert of a planet, torn apart by immense gravitational forces.
That, and relics like these, old robotic warships still intent on fulfilling a mission that had been obsolete for millennia.
Remnants of a time long past. Like him.
The Doctor pressed his lips together. "Did you have to blow them up?"
"I don't have deactivation codes. I'm sorry." Jack didn't look particularly apologetic. "And they'd already killed too many people."
No arguing with that. Between an artefact and people's lives ...
"Well ..." The Doctor nodded, slowly, tugging at his earlobe. "You're not wrong."
Jack's lips twitched, but he said nothing, just raised his eyebrows in triumph.
The Doctor took refuge in rambling. "Did I ever tell you about the times I visited Tis? Brilliant people. I loved it there. And they had these little ..." His throat constricted, and he had to be silent for a moment. Then he looked up, looked straight into Jack's eyes. "I know the codes. Well, the TARDIS does. Let's lay these ships to rest, shall we?"
Jack nodded solemnly. "Let's."
~*~
It was almost absurdly simple. The TARDIS, equipped with the proper codes and, of course, superior sensor systems, quickly located a surviving Tisari command satellite and brought them there.
Jack looked around the deserted, dusty command centre, drew his shoulders in uncomfortably, then stretched himself upright again with deliberation. "Looks a bit like the Game Station."
Huh? "What are you talking about? This looks nothing like ..."
"After," Jack interrupted him tersely.
"Oh." The Doctor looked away uncomfortably. He didn't like to remember that he'd abandoned Jack on that station of the dead, with Dalek dust for company. "Well, you'd know, I suppose."
"No supposing about it." Jack took off his coat and hung it over a railing, rolled up his sleeves. "All right, let's get this show on the road."
Soon they were elbows-deep into the innards of the main console, restoring operations to the positronic systems, enough to get a status report. After that it was only a matter of hours. Some transducers reconnected, some degraded crystal oscillators replaced, the main relay circuit rewired ... then the positronic computer announced all relevant systems were online and standing by.
The Doctor, a dark expression on his face, entered his codes. The satellite's hyperspace radio came to life and sent out deactivation signals.
On the screen, they could watch the few remaining Tisari warships power down. It was over.
Too quickly. Too easily. But the last emissaries of Tis had gone down without complications, without a fight. There would be no more dead from a millennia-old war.
Jack looked at the Doctor with a strange expression. Then he walked over to where he'd put his coat down and pulled a bottle and two duraglass champagne flutes from its pockets. Where had he got those? And when?
Never mind.
"To Tis," Jack said quietly and poured for them both.
After a moment, the Doctor took one of the glasses. "To Tis," he repeated. "Rest in peace."
~*~
They sat side by side on the dusty metal floor, leaning back against the console they'd worked on. The Doctor said nothing, and Jack said nothing either. Occasionally they clinked glasses and grinned at each other, or bumped shoulders companionably. They sat like that for a long time.
Finally it was the Doctor who broke the silence. "Jack ..." He tugged at his earlobe, then rubbed the back of his neck nervously.
"Doc?"
The Doctor looked at him. "Travel with me for a while?"
Jack snorted.
"Hey!"
"Oh, come on, it's funny. First you can't wait to get rid of me, and then ..." A regretful smile. "Better not risk it. We're out of synch; it's too dangerous."
"Point."
"Besides, you don't really mean it."
A hard glare. "Don't I? I asked."
"You never meant it. Not really." Bone-deep conviction.
Gone was the companionable mood from moments ago. They were glaring at each other.
The Doctor slammed his palm down on the floor in frustration. "Is that really what you believe? What more do you want - I asked you to come with me! More than once, even. But it's never good enough for you, is it?" He drummed his fingers against the metal, then let out a frustrated sigh. There'd been a time, long ago, when things had been easy between them. There was no getting that back, obviously, moments of camaraderie aside. Another thing lost. Another friend lost. "Right."
"Damn you, Doctor ..." Jack wiped a hand over his face, pinched the bridge of his nose. Then he seemed to come to some sort of conclusion. "Tell me." His voice was hoarse. "Tell me what you want. And if I can, I'll give it to you. You know I will."
Would he? Would he truly? The Doctor wanted to believe it. But he wasn't sure he dared.
A deep breath. "Fine, I'll tell you." He leaned back against the console and closed his eyes. "I want to stop losing people. Everyone who travels with me, I always lose them. Even you - you can't even die, and I'm still losing you more each time." He opened his eyes again, looked Jack directly in the eye, unsure of what he'd find there.
Jack was scowling. "If you really wanted to keep me, you could." And because he was Jack, of course he couldn't resist underlining the innuendo with a leer. Then he leaned forward, clear challenge in his eyes, the set of his chin, in his posture. "I'll stay if you want, temporal prime directive be damned. You know that - you've always known it."
And he meant it; he really meant it. Completely. The Doctor looked at him in wonder. Jack might not be entirely sanguine about the Doctor's intentions, but he meant it.
The Doctor swallowed around the lump in his throat. "You still want this. You really still want me. Even after everything. I don't ..." He twitched. "What am I supposed to do with that?"
He didn't deserve it. But it was obvious that he had it anyway; this was not a gift he could refuse. It had already been given long ago.
"Doctor ..."
"In the end, I disappoint everyone. I'm not the hero they think I am. I leave them. I don't give them what they need, and they leave me. Either that, or they die. But you ..."
You won't do either.
If you're disappointed, you just refuse to let it matter.
He knew what Jack was thinking: The Doctor underestimated his companions. That was even true; he often did, marvellous people that they were. But at the same time, he was speaking the truth, and Jack must know it: He himself had lived it, after all. Meeting the Doctor, putting him on a pedestal, living through the painful experience of having him knocked off.
Loving him anyway.
Loving him anyway, for reasons unknown.
Oh, he tried, he kept trying, even if he was a coward, even if he could be cruel and thoughtless and high-handed at times. He knew it; he didn't deny it. But no one could live up to that hero's image, not even a Time Lord, not even he, much as he hated to admit that.
He shuddered, a sense of foreboding overcoming him. "He will knock four times," he quoted under his breath.
Jack started. "Ah. That's when you're from."
It was like being doused with ice water, hearing those words. It took a moment before he overcame the shock.
Finally the Doctor leaned forward, intently. "You know. You know how that ends."
Jack merely smiled, knowingly, sadly.
"Jack."
But he knew. There was nothing that was safe to say. He knew, and he hated it. He slumped back.
Jack was still smiling slightly. "So what's it to be?"
The Doctor rubbed a hand across his face. "You were right," he admitted. "We're too far out of synch." He watched as Jack's expression began to close, then he continued, "So, not this time. But soon. Well, for you - I don't know how long it'll take me to catch up with you. But I will."
Jack's eyes grew soft again, and he reached out. His hand stopped barely an inch before he would have touched the Doctor's cheek; then he lowered his arm again. "I'll hold you to that," he said hoarsely.
"Do." And the Doctor reached out himself, not stopping, cupping Jack's cheek, and drew him in for a kiss.
Jack's eyes, shocked and blue, burned themselves into his mind.
~*~
He took Jack back to the Kruthian convoy, afterwards. It was a good thing they had almost all of time ahead of them; their timing clearly was nothing to be proud of. Jack would still be there. He wasn't going to lose him. Jack would always be there.
When the TARDIS materialised on the Kruthian ship, Jack stood ready.
They looked at each other for a long moment.
"Sorry," the Doctor finally said. "About ..." He waved his hand vaguely. "You know."
Jack smiled at him fondly. "I know," he said and pressed a final kiss against the Doctor's lips. Then he turned around and strolled to the door, waving his hand in good-bye. Leaving.
There was a spring in Jack's step, and his coat billowed dashingly behind him. Sure of himself, comfortable in his skin. I want that, the Doctor thought. I want to be that.
But Jack was going.
And he was letting him go.
Alone again, he smiled wryly at himself. One day.
Not yet, but one day.
One day soon, he hoped.
~end~