Journey Onward 8/9 + epilogue
Story: Journey Onward
Author: wmr wendymr
Characters: Tenth Doctor, Jack Harkness; also Martha Jones, Mickey Smith, Ianto Jones, others
Rated: PG13
Spoilers: Journey's End and a tiny, blink-and-you'll-miss-it reference to The Next Doctor
Disclaimer: All recognisable characters belong to the BBC.
Summary: Sometimes the hardest journeys to make are the familiar ones
With more thanks than I can say to the brilliant dark_aegis for BRing and brainstorming. I absolutely couldn't have written this chapter without her.
Chapter 1: Confronting the Dragon l Chapter 2: Still Running Away l Chapter 3: Denial l Chapter 4: Battles l Chapter 5: Grief l Chapter 6: Familiar Faces l Chapter 7: Into the Fire
Chapter 8: We Still Know Who You Are
He’s acutely aware of every millisecond that passes while he waits for an answer. It’s not all that long, though, a mere thirty-eight point two-nine seconds until the captain speaks again.
“You win, Doctor, this time. I will give the order to retreat.”
He slides his finger away from the button and claps. “Good decision.”
The captain looks expectant, head nodding towards the control-panel. The Doctor clicks his tongue. “Oh, no. Not until I hear you order all your troops - all of them - back to their ships and the fleet readied for departure.”
With an irritated grunt, the captain reaches for the communication device he’s wearing, then gives an unambiguous command for a full and immediate retreat. Slowly, and with great ceremony, the Doctor tweaks a button on the control-panel.
“There. Pressure’s reduced, just enough so that the ship’s not in imminent danger of going boom any second. But...” he adds in an attention-grabbing drawl, just as the two engineers show signs of rushing him to get to the panel. “...you’ll find that the controls are locked.” He waves the sonic screwdriver. “I’m the only one who can unlock them. And I’ll do that as soon as I’m off the ship and I hear that every Zygon out there is on their way back.”
Thus, of course, guaranteeing his own escape-route - and he can see they’ve realised that, too. Oh, yes. He’ll sacrifice his life if he has to in order to ensure the safety of this planet, but he’s not stupid enough to leave himself without a backup plan for getting off the ship alive in case the captain goes back on his word.
The barely-concealed rage on the captain’s face is evidence that he was absolutely right to be suspicious.
“Right, then!” he announces cheerfully. “I’ll just be on my way. And you’ll be on yours. All agreed?”
With a low growl of frustration, the captain nods.
***
He’s completely unmolested as he leaves the ship. Orders have obviously been given, because any Zygons he passes give him a very wide berth.
Back in the cargo zone, there seem to be no humans in sight. Good. Ianto’s done his job.
Out on the street, sirens are still blaring and he can see flashing blue lights in the distance. The area immediately around the ship is cordoned off, and both Army and UNIT Jeeps and vans are visible, along with several fire-engines. There are hardly any civilians in view, though a number of soldiers stand around, weapons at the ready.
A sandy-haired, youthful-looking soldier in a red beret runs up to him. “You shouldn’t be here, sir. You need to get behind the cordon and then make your way to the nearest shelter.”
“It’s all right, Sergeant. I’m the Doctor.” The soldier instantly stands to attention and begins to raise his arm. “No, no salutes, please. What’s the situation? Any Zygons still at large?”
“A few dozen reported, sir. They’re being tracked and orders are to shoot once a clear line of fire is established.”
The Doctor shakes his head emphatically. “No shooting. I have the Zygon leader’s promise to leave this planet. Tell your commander that all remaining Zygons are to be allowed to return to their ships.”
The soldier repeats this into his communicator, but seems to get objections in response. After several moments of listening to indignant squawks, the Doctor interrupts. “What’s your name, Sergeant?”
The soldier blinks. “Glen, sir.”
“It’s just the Doctor, Glen. Let me speak to your commander.” He holds out his hand and, after a slight hesitation, Glen unhooks his mic and hands it over.
It’s always the same, isn’t it, in this time-period? Shoot first, ask questions later. Refuse to believe that a negotiated truce is possible. Well, all right, there are exceptions, but that’s mostly the way it is. True, it’s not only the human race that behaved this way, and there is often justification, but still.
It’s only after he’s insisted several times that he has a contingency plan in case the Zygon commander doesn’t honour their agreement, and that he’s fully prepared to carry it out if necessary, that the UNIT commander agrees to order his troops to allow all remaining Zygons back to their ships - and to pass that same instruction to the army and police around the country.
He stands with Glen and watches as, in a steady stream, Zygons march back to the ship, boarding without looking back. It’s about forty-five minutes later when a loud hissing sound indicates the doors are being sealed. He sets a control on the screwdriver and, pointing it at the ship, presses the button to return the fuel-line settings to normal. Ten minutes after that, the engines begin to roar.
“Best move back.” He presses Glen’s shoulder and gestures away from the ship. “It’s about to blast off.”
Glen nods, then listens as a voice squawks through his comm device again. Then he turns to the Doctor and grins. “They’re all leaving. Every single ship. We won.”
The Doctor grins back. “Brilliant.”
***
He’s still grinning as he strolls back along the still-deserted city streets towards where he left the TARDIS. The choice was either to make for there or the Hub, but his guess is that Jack and his team are still out in the thick of things, so that’s the best place to find them.
Turning a corner, he’s abruptly ambushed and shoved into a narrow alleyway instead of the road he was about to enter. It’s Jack; he knows that instinctively, before he’s even able to see the man pushing at him from behind. Interesting, though, that he wasn’t aware of Jack until the human was actually touching him. Is his sensitivity to Jack’s state of immortality fading?
“You bastard!” Jack yells in his ear before he can say a word.
He tries to turn, to face Jack, and finds his body shoved hard against a wall. “Ja-”
Jack’s mouth is on his, hard and brutal, almost punishing. Jack’s body is pressed tight against his, holding him in place against the rough brick, allowing no quarter. “Bastard,” Jack mutters again, breaking the kiss only briefly. “Telling me to kill you.” Another bruising kiss. “Telling me it’s okay, you’ll only regenerate.” Jack’s tongue invades his mouth, demanding a response. “It’s not okay, damn you.”
“Jack-” he tries again, but another kiss, deep and needy, stops him. Distracts him. Makes him kiss back.
“Even after Ianto told me he’d seen you, I couldn’t hope you were okay.” Pulling back only slightly, Jack talks furiously. “He told me the damn ship was on fire and you were running back into it.” The Captain’s hips grind into his. “And I couldn’t even get there to go and find you.”
“I told you I’d be all right,” he tries to protest, but Jack kisses him again, biting at his lower lip, one hand buried in his hair, pressing their faces closer together.
Now, it’s the two of them duelling tongues with each other, hands touching everywhere they can, hips and thighs rubbing against each other, frantic in their movements. Even the Doctor’s breathing heavily when he draws back, eyes wide. “You planning on snogging me up against the wall all day?”
“Oh, I want to do a whole lot more than that,” Jack drawls, spinning out the words, eyelids lowered and his entire body radiating hormones, the urgency in his lower body making his meaning even clearer.
The Doctor blinks. “Not here? And don’t you have work to do? Cleanup stuff? Your team?”
“Later, then,” Jack says without missing a beat, challenge in his gaze.
Jack expects him to say no. That, above all, is probably why he just grins slowly before gently pushing the human back and walking away, turning his head briefly to wink at his friend before rounding the corner.
***
He times his return to the Hub for much later that evening, after he’s seen all of Jack’s team leave, even Ianto. Mickey and Jake left first, talking animatedly and clearly headed for Mickey’s flat. He makes a mental note to speak to Jake in the morning; after all, the bloke did sort of get hijacked without warning. Not that he seems to be in any hurry to return to Newcastle at the moment.
The sonic screwdriver allows him to bypass Jack’s elaborate security system and enter the Hub, though he’s well aware that his entrance will have been caught on the cameras. All the same, he takes his time strolling through the main area and across to the steps leading to Jack’s office. When he’s halfway up the stairs, Jack comes out to meet him, leaning against the door-jamb with one eyebrow raised and a look in his eyes that’s entirely sensual.
“Something you wanted, Doctor?”
He pauses, deliberately allowing his gaze to travel up Jack’s body from head to toe before answering. “I think the customary question in these situations is your place or mine, isn’t it? I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist on my place, though.”
He’s not jealous of Ianto, of course he isn’t, but he has no desire to use the same venue Jack and the young Mr Jones dabble in.
Even if he hadn’t already decided that he wants this, it would’ve been worth it for the look on Jack’s face as he realises he’s really being propositioned. “You’re having me on, right, Doctor?”
“Nope.” He grins as he deliberately pops the P. Crooking a finger at Jack, he adds, “Well, come on if you’re coming,” then turns and saunters down the stairs again, deliberately provocative.
He has to stifle a laugh bare seconds later as he hears Jack stumble before jogging down the stairs to join him.
***
In the TARDIS, as soon as he’s pushed the door shut, Jack faces him and asks, “Why?”
“Why?” He opens his eyes wide. “Well, that’s one of the universe’s great unanswerables, isn’t it? If I knew the answer to every why there ever was, what point would there be to anything?”
“Doctor.” The word emerges in a low growl. “Why this? Why now?”
He shrugs. “Oh, it was always inevitable, wasn’t it, Jack? This? You and me? But,” he adds, letting the register of his voice drop a couple of pitches, “do you really want to talk about it? Now?”
Jack’s eyes darken. “No.”
That’s all it takes. Impossible to tell who moves first, but it’s instantly a wrestling-match of hands and arms and lips and tongues. Clothing’s discarded, buttons flying and pieces ending up hanging from struts. It’s Jack, finally, who breaks away with a full-throated laugh.
“This ship’s got more rooms than a Vegas hotel - and we’re having sex in the console room?”
“What, you want a bed too? Demanding, aren’t you?”
Despite the fevered passion that resumes once they’re entwined on a bed, and intensifies once they’re both naked, there’s a wary tension inside Jack that the Doctor notices only dissipates once he’s inside his former companion. He’s about to ask, but then Jack’s doing stuff with his hands and tongue that completely drive all rational thought from his mind except for the urge to drive his partner to the brink of insanity and beyond in return.
It’s later, as they’re lying together, sated and sweaty, hands entwined, that he does ask. Jack turns his head and those familiar blue eyes look into his own, their appearance more vulnerable than he’s noticed in a long time.
“Didn’t really believe you’d go through with it,” Jack explains, a wry twist to his lips. “Not really you, is it? You flirt and tease but never follow through.”
“Told you why I don’t, though, didn’t I?” He leans in and presses a kiss to Jack’s warm, human lips. “Suppose that never really did apply to you, even before you were immortal.”
A slow smile spreads across Jack’s mouth. “That mean I might even get to repeat the experience?”
He glances down at himself, already aroused again and ready for more. “Think you’d better, actually. Might even find we’ll make a habit of it.”
“That’s the kind of habit I like forming,” Jack quips, then rolls on top of the Doctor and prevents any further conversation for the time being.
***
Jack doesn’t stay the night, though he’d have been welcome to as far as the Doctor’s concerned. After a few hours and several energetic and a couple of lazier bouts of lovemaking, he springs to his feet and announces that he has paperwork to take care of.
“You’ll be taking off now, I guess?” Jack asks as he dresses.
Normally, he would be, of course, but... “Nah. Not yet. Got something I want to do first.” An idea that’s just come to him that he wants to take care of as soon as possible - and, of course, he did resolve not to leave without dealing with the Jake problem, didn’t it? “I’ll drop in and see you before I go.”
“Good.” Pausing in the act of pulling up his braces, Jack leans in and kisses him.
It’s a strange feeling being the one walked away from, he muses, standing in the console room as the TARDIS door closes behind Jack. Of course, it’s only a temporary goodbye, and even when he leaves Cardiff in a few hours’ time he’ll be back to see Jack again. Even to take Jack away for the occasional trip - he’s got every intention of keeping the Captain to that one.
It’s also an unusual experience for him to be the one worried about. He’s used to companions assuming most of the time, without even thinking about it, that he’ll be fine. Or believing him when he lies through his teeth to tell them he will be. Oh, not entirely, of course; Rose did come back to him on Satellite Five because she knew he wouldn’t be okay. Donna knew he wasn’t all right on Midnight, and didn’t even wait for him to pretend otherwise. But Jack, today, was a revelation. It wasn’t being snogged to within an inch of his life that took him by surprise, but the obvious terror Jack went through over his safety.
Jack, too, still seems to think of himself as second-best - at least, if he’s interpreting that odd question of his correctly and it wasn’t just idle curiosity. Between bouts of lovemaking, in the middle of a very silly, very casual conversation, his friend asked about Donna. Why he’d needed to lock away her memories. What a metacrisis was, exactly. Why he hadn’t just been able to take away the Time Lord knowledge lodged in her brain instead.
Not possible, he explained; there wasn’t enough time, and even his genius brain couldn’t absorb all that additional knowledge at once. If he could have taken it from Donna bit by bit, he might have been able to cure her without removing her memories, but he’d have barely started by the time the metacrisis would have killed her.
Donna’s in his past. He has to recognise that, believe that she’ll be all right, and move on. But, this time, moving on won’t mean leaving his friends behind. That’s a lesson he’s learned, and a promise he’s already made to Jack.
And that’s why, a few hours later, he’s strolling into the Hub with a brand-new purchase in hand. The first person he sees is Ianto, who - as it happens - is exactly the person he was looking for.
“Ianto! Just the man!”
“Doctor.” Ianto smiles, and for the first time it’s genuine. He feels, somehow, that he’s finally earned the young man’s respect. “What can I do for you?”
“This.” He holds up the slim mobile he’s just bought in the city centre and that he’ll jiggery-poke as soon as he’s back in the TARDIS. “I need you to put Jack’s and Martha’s numbers on it. Oh, and you’d better put Mickey’s on too, I suppose. Sarah-Jane’s, if you have it?”
“I think I can find it, yes.” Ianto takes the phone. “And may I give anyone your number?”
“Everyone you’re putting into it. And take it yourself,” he adds, though he suspects Ianto was already planning on it. “I just need to see Jack,” he adds. “I’ll get it back from you after.”
He jogs up the stairs for a quick, private goodbye and a reassurance to Jack that he will be back. Jack’s just putting the phone down when he slips around the door of his friend’s office.
“What’s up?” he asks, seeing Jack’s frustrated grimace.
“Politicians.” The word’s almost a snarl. “The thing I hate most about this job. That was the Prime Minister.” He nods at the phone. “And if you repeat that I’ll have to kill you.”
“You’d regret it.” He grins back. “The next me might not fancy you.” A quick wink, then he continues, “So, what’s the problem?”
Jack exhales, clearly still calming down. “You know how many alien invasions we’ve had in the past few years alone. But the government, in its infinite wisdom, still has an official policy that aliens don’t exist. Oh, they know otherwise,” he adds as the Doctor stares at him, incredulous. “They just don’t want to deal with it. So there’s no official public education. No strategy - that’s just left up to UNIT and us. And no plan of action for a peaceful approach to interplanetary cooperation.”
All so short-sighted. Any idiot could see Jack’s point. “And there’s no-one in government - not one single person - willing to do something about it?”
Jack shrugs. “Oh, maybe there’s one or two who would. But the PM’s kinda... forceful. They won’t stand up to him.”
A slow smile spreads across the Doctor’s face. “I think I might have just the person for you.”
***
Not quite goodbye for now just yet, then. He’s got another errand to run first.
On his way back across the Hub concourse, he picks up his phone from Ianto and then notices Mickey standing with Jake. Mickey’s actually brought Jake into the Hub. Jack won’t be pleased.
“Jake! Suppose you want a lift back to Newcastle.”
Jake glances at Mickey, a look that speaks volumes about how quickly things have progressed between them. “Ah, not yet, thanks. Mickey here an’ I got stuff to talk about. I’ll get the train later.”
“Actually, handsome, you and I need to talk first,” Jack comments, coming up behind the two of them.
“Oi! Hands off, Captain Slut!” Mickey objects.
Jack cuffs Mickey lightly, but carries on talking to Jake. “I had Ianto check you out, Jake Simmons. And when Ianto checks someone out you better believe we know more about you than you do. You’ve got potential. You also know far more about Torchwood than anyone gets to know and be allowed to live. Consider yourself hired.”
Mickey blinks and looks delighted. Jake quirks an eyebrow. “What if I don’t want to be hired?”
“You are joking,” Jack says. “No, I mean I know you are,” he adds as Jake seems about to protest. “Security guard or Torchwood agent? You’d have to be crazy to choose anything else. We pay a hell of a lot more, for starters.”
“There’s also a far higher chance of getting killed,” Mickey points out, a broad grin spreading over his face.
“And there wasn’t in the army?” Hands on his hips, Jack still watches Jake. “Besides, you also get as much of Ianto’s coffee as you can drink. And you get to play with cool toys. Who wouldn’t want that?”
As Jake shakes hands with Jack, Mickey catches the Doctor’s eye. No words are said, but the look on his face says it all. A second chance, and one he’s determined to make the most of.
That’s good. Because everyone deserves a second chance, don’t they? It may be a lesson he’s learned late, but he’s learned it all the same.
***
Ten minutes later, he’s materialised in a quiet back garden and is strolling up to the kitchen door to knock sharply. The occupant’s eyes widen when she sees him.
“Harriet Jones!” he exclaims. “I’m bringing you out of retirement.”
“What?”
“House of Lords. Baroness Jones of Flydale, I should think. Oh, you’ll be brilliant. Minister for Alien Relations. And, yes, that does include me, though you’ll have to fight Captain Jack Harkness on that one. He likes to think he’s my exclusive Planet Earth liaison.”
“You, Doctor, are absolutely mad.”
He grins. “It’s been said, many times. Well? Will you do it?”
She’s tempted. He can see it in her eyes - and of course she’s interested. She’s bored, stuck away here in Yorkshire with no connection to government or people in power, with no-one knowing she’s alive. She’s got so much to contribute still, and she knows it.
It’s not quite undoing what he did to her, but it’s a step in the right direction. She’ll never be prime minister again, but she’ll have a significant role in influencing government, and she’ll get the place in history she deserves.
After a few moments, she says, “The PM will never appoint me.”
He’s got her. He grins again. “Ah, leave that to me.”
Brilliant. And, as he takes her on her first trip in the TARDIS, back to Cardiff to give Jack the good news and discuss strategy, he can’t help feeling that he’s finding more reasons day by day to feel good about this life after all.
***
It’s been another good day.
He’s on a planet he’s never been to before, where he arrived a few days ago to discover the inhabitants embroiled in a bloody civil war that’s been raging for decades. In memory of Donna and Jenny, and with thoughts of Martha’s approval in his head also, he determined to sort it out. Not that he wouldn’t have anyway, but this one’s for them.
It’s taken him all this time, and lots of talking and patience and even threats of terrible consequences, but he finally persuaded both sides to listen to him. And then to listen to each other. And, finally, to sit down and draft and sign a peace treaty.
This afternoon, both sides laid down their weapons in the middle of an empty field, once the most fought-over piece of land on the planet. Simultaneously, the leaders of each side took a piece of explosive and lobbed it onto the pile, and then stood back and cheered as the weapons burned.
He accepts their thanks, declines to stay for the peace celebrations, and strolls cheerfully back to the TARDIS. Just as he closes the door, his phone rings.
Jack’s name’s on the tiny screen. It hasn’t been that long since he left Cardiff, has it? Maybe eight or nine weeks, in his timeline. In Jack’s, of course, who knows? He promised Jack he’d be around every so often. Every three or four months, probably, on the Earth calendar, he estimated. Unless, of course, there’s another alien invasion and he ends up there sooner.
“Jack! What’s wrong this time? Realised you can’t handle an alien invasion without me? Your team managed to open the Rift again? Something you can’t translate?”
“Nothing like that.” Jack’s voice is amused, a lazy, relaxed drawl, and it sends a shiver through him. “Actually, I’m not looking for anything from you. For a change, it’s something I can do for you.”
The shiver turns to a frisson of warmth deep in his belly, and he has to shake himself. After all, Jack’s the one who continually has sex on the brain, isn’t he? “What’s that, then?”
Jack’s reply is the last thing he expects to hear. “I think I know how you can fix Donna.”
***
tbc
Author: wmr wendymr
Characters: Tenth Doctor, Jack Harkness; also Martha Jones, Mickey Smith, Ianto Jones, others
Rated: PG13
Spoilers: Journey's End and a tiny, blink-and-you'll-miss-it reference to The Next Doctor
Disclaimer: All recognisable characters belong to the BBC.
Summary: Sometimes the hardest journeys to make are the familiar ones
With more thanks than I can say to the brilliant dark_aegis for BRing and brainstorming. I absolutely couldn't have written this chapter without her.
Chapter 1: Confronting the Dragon l Chapter 2: Still Running Away l Chapter 3: Denial l Chapter 4: Battles l Chapter 5: Grief l Chapter 6: Familiar Faces l Chapter 7: Into the Fire
Chapter 8: We Still Know Who You Are
He’s acutely aware of every millisecond that passes while he waits for an answer. It’s not all that long, though, a mere thirty-eight point two-nine seconds until the captain speaks again.
“You win, Doctor, this time. I will give the order to retreat.”
He slides his finger away from the button and claps. “Good decision.”
The captain looks expectant, head nodding towards the control-panel. The Doctor clicks his tongue. “Oh, no. Not until I hear you order all your troops - all of them - back to their ships and the fleet readied for departure.”
With an irritated grunt, the captain reaches for the communication device he’s wearing, then gives an unambiguous command for a full and immediate retreat. Slowly, and with great ceremony, the Doctor tweaks a button on the control-panel.
“There. Pressure’s reduced, just enough so that the ship’s not in imminent danger of going boom any second. But...” he adds in an attention-grabbing drawl, just as the two engineers show signs of rushing him to get to the panel. “...you’ll find that the controls are locked.” He waves the sonic screwdriver. “I’m the only one who can unlock them. And I’ll do that as soon as I’m off the ship and I hear that every Zygon out there is on their way back.”
Thus, of course, guaranteeing his own escape-route - and he can see they’ve realised that, too. Oh, yes. He’ll sacrifice his life if he has to in order to ensure the safety of this planet, but he’s not stupid enough to leave himself without a backup plan for getting off the ship alive in case the captain goes back on his word.
The barely-concealed rage on the captain’s face is evidence that he was absolutely right to be suspicious.
“Right, then!” he announces cheerfully. “I’ll just be on my way. And you’ll be on yours. All agreed?”
With a low growl of frustration, the captain nods.
***
He’s completely unmolested as he leaves the ship. Orders have obviously been given, because any Zygons he passes give him a very wide berth.
Back in the cargo zone, there seem to be no humans in sight. Good. Ianto’s done his job.
Out on the street, sirens are still blaring and he can see flashing blue lights in the distance. The area immediately around the ship is cordoned off, and both Army and UNIT Jeeps and vans are visible, along with several fire-engines. There are hardly any civilians in view, though a number of soldiers stand around, weapons at the ready.
A sandy-haired, youthful-looking soldier in a red beret runs up to him. “You shouldn’t be here, sir. You need to get behind the cordon and then make your way to the nearest shelter.”
“It’s all right, Sergeant. I’m the Doctor.” The soldier instantly stands to attention and begins to raise his arm. “No, no salutes, please. What’s the situation? Any Zygons still at large?”
“A few dozen reported, sir. They’re being tracked and orders are to shoot once a clear line of fire is established.”
The Doctor shakes his head emphatically. “No shooting. I have the Zygon leader’s promise to leave this planet. Tell your commander that all remaining Zygons are to be allowed to return to their ships.”
The soldier repeats this into his communicator, but seems to get objections in response. After several moments of listening to indignant squawks, the Doctor interrupts. “What’s your name, Sergeant?”
The soldier blinks. “Glen, sir.”
“It’s just the Doctor, Glen. Let me speak to your commander.” He holds out his hand and, after a slight hesitation, Glen unhooks his mic and hands it over.
It’s always the same, isn’t it, in this time-period? Shoot first, ask questions later. Refuse to believe that a negotiated truce is possible. Well, all right, there are exceptions, but that’s mostly the way it is. True, it’s not only the human race that behaved this way, and there is often justification, but still.
It’s only after he’s insisted several times that he has a contingency plan in case the Zygon commander doesn’t honour their agreement, and that he’s fully prepared to carry it out if necessary, that the UNIT commander agrees to order his troops to allow all remaining Zygons back to their ships - and to pass that same instruction to the army and police around the country.
He stands with Glen and watches as, in a steady stream, Zygons march back to the ship, boarding without looking back. It’s about forty-five minutes later when a loud hissing sound indicates the doors are being sealed. He sets a control on the screwdriver and, pointing it at the ship, presses the button to return the fuel-line settings to normal. Ten minutes after that, the engines begin to roar.
“Best move back.” He presses Glen’s shoulder and gestures away from the ship. “It’s about to blast off.”
Glen nods, then listens as a voice squawks through his comm device again. Then he turns to the Doctor and grins. “They’re all leaving. Every single ship. We won.”
The Doctor grins back. “Brilliant.”
***
He’s still grinning as he strolls back along the still-deserted city streets towards where he left the TARDIS. The choice was either to make for there or the Hub, but his guess is that Jack and his team are still out in the thick of things, so that’s the best place to find them.
Turning a corner, he’s abruptly ambushed and shoved into a narrow alleyway instead of the road he was about to enter. It’s Jack; he knows that instinctively, before he’s even able to see the man pushing at him from behind. Interesting, though, that he wasn’t aware of Jack until the human was actually touching him. Is his sensitivity to Jack’s state of immortality fading?
“You bastard!” Jack yells in his ear before he can say a word.
He tries to turn, to face Jack, and finds his body shoved hard against a wall. “Ja-”
Jack’s mouth is on his, hard and brutal, almost punishing. Jack’s body is pressed tight against his, holding him in place against the rough brick, allowing no quarter. “Bastard,” Jack mutters again, breaking the kiss only briefly. “Telling me to kill you.” Another bruising kiss. “Telling me it’s okay, you’ll only regenerate.” Jack’s tongue invades his mouth, demanding a response. “It’s not okay, damn you.”
“Jack-” he tries again, but another kiss, deep and needy, stops him. Distracts him. Makes him kiss back.
“Even after Ianto told me he’d seen you, I couldn’t hope you were okay.” Pulling back only slightly, Jack talks furiously. “He told me the damn ship was on fire and you were running back into it.” The Captain’s hips grind into his. “And I couldn’t even get there to go and find you.”
“I told you I’d be all right,” he tries to protest, but Jack kisses him again, biting at his lower lip, one hand buried in his hair, pressing their faces closer together.
Now, it’s the two of them duelling tongues with each other, hands touching everywhere they can, hips and thighs rubbing against each other, frantic in their movements. Even the Doctor’s breathing heavily when he draws back, eyes wide. “You planning on snogging me up against the wall all day?”
“Oh, I want to do a whole lot more than that,” Jack drawls, spinning out the words, eyelids lowered and his entire body radiating hormones, the urgency in his lower body making his meaning even clearer.
The Doctor blinks. “Not here? And don’t you have work to do? Cleanup stuff? Your team?”
“Later, then,” Jack says without missing a beat, challenge in his gaze.
Jack expects him to say no. That, above all, is probably why he just grins slowly before gently pushing the human back and walking away, turning his head briefly to wink at his friend before rounding the corner.
***
He times his return to the Hub for much later that evening, after he’s seen all of Jack’s team leave, even Ianto. Mickey and Jake left first, talking animatedly and clearly headed for Mickey’s flat. He makes a mental note to speak to Jake in the morning; after all, the bloke did sort of get hijacked without warning. Not that he seems to be in any hurry to return to Newcastle at the moment.
The sonic screwdriver allows him to bypass Jack’s elaborate security system and enter the Hub, though he’s well aware that his entrance will have been caught on the cameras. All the same, he takes his time strolling through the main area and across to the steps leading to Jack’s office. When he’s halfway up the stairs, Jack comes out to meet him, leaning against the door-jamb with one eyebrow raised and a look in his eyes that’s entirely sensual.
“Something you wanted, Doctor?”
He pauses, deliberately allowing his gaze to travel up Jack’s body from head to toe before answering. “I think the customary question in these situations is your place or mine, isn’t it? I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist on my place, though.”
He’s not jealous of Ianto, of course he isn’t, but he has no desire to use the same venue Jack and the young Mr Jones dabble in.
Even if he hadn’t already decided that he wants this, it would’ve been worth it for the look on Jack’s face as he realises he’s really being propositioned. “You’re having me on, right, Doctor?”
“Nope.” He grins as he deliberately pops the P. Crooking a finger at Jack, he adds, “Well, come on if you’re coming,” then turns and saunters down the stairs again, deliberately provocative.
He has to stifle a laugh bare seconds later as he hears Jack stumble before jogging down the stairs to join him.
***
In the TARDIS, as soon as he’s pushed the door shut, Jack faces him and asks, “Why?”
“Why?” He opens his eyes wide. “Well, that’s one of the universe’s great unanswerables, isn’t it? If I knew the answer to every why there ever was, what point would there be to anything?”
“Doctor.” The word emerges in a low growl. “Why this? Why now?”
He shrugs. “Oh, it was always inevitable, wasn’t it, Jack? This? You and me? But,” he adds, letting the register of his voice drop a couple of pitches, “do you really want to talk about it? Now?”
Jack’s eyes darken. “No.”
That’s all it takes. Impossible to tell who moves first, but it’s instantly a wrestling-match of hands and arms and lips and tongues. Clothing’s discarded, buttons flying and pieces ending up hanging from struts. It’s Jack, finally, who breaks away with a full-throated laugh.
“This ship’s got more rooms than a Vegas hotel - and we’re having sex in the console room?”
“What, you want a bed too? Demanding, aren’t you?”
Despite the fevered passion that resumes once they’re entwined on a bed, and intensifies once they’re both naked, there’s a wary tension inside Jack that the Doctor notices only dissipates once he’s inside his former companion. He’s about to ask, but then Jack’s doing stuff with his hands and tongue that completely drive all rational thought from his mind except for the urge to drive his partner to the brink of insanity and beyond in return.
It’s later, as they’re lying together, sated and sweaty, hands entwined, that he does ask. Jack turns his head and those familiar blue eyes look into his own, their appearance more vulnerable than he’s noticed in a long time.
“Didn’t really believe you’d go through with it,” Jack explains, a wry twist to his lips. “Not really you, is it? You flirt and tease but never follow through.”
“Told you why I don’t, though, didn’t I?” He leans in and presses a kiss to Jack’s warm, human lips. “Suppose that never really did apply to you, even before you were immortal.”
A slow smile spreads across Jack’s mouth. “That mean I might even get to repeat the experience?”
He glances down at himself, already aroused again and ready for more. “Think you’d better, actually. Might even find we’ll make a habit of it.”
“That’s the kind of habit I like forming,” Jack quips, then rolls on top of the Doctor and prevents any further conversation for the time being.
***
Jack doesn’t stay the night, though he’d have been welcome to as far as the Doctor’s concerned. After a few hours and several energetic and a couple of lazier bouts of lovemaking, he springs to his feet and announces that he has paperwork to take care of.
“You’ll be taking off now, I guess?” Jack asks as he dresses.
Normally, he would be, of course, but... “Nah. Not yet. Got something I want to do first.” An idea that’s just come to him that he wants to take care of as soon as possible - and, of course, he did resolve not to leave without dealing with the Jake problem, didn’t it? “I’ll drop in and see you before I go.”
“Good.” Pausing in the act of pulling up his braces, Jack leans in and kisses him.
It’s a strange feeling being the one walked away from, he muses, standing in the console room as the TARDIS door closes behind Jack. Of course, it’s only a temporary goodbye, and even when he leaves Cardiff in a few hours’ time he’ll be back to see Jack again. Even to take Jack away for the occasional trip - he’s got every intention of keeping the Captain to that one.
It’s also an unusual experience for him to be the one worried about. He’s used to companions assuming most of the time, without even thinking about it, that he’ll be fine. Or believing him when he lies through his teeth to tell them he will be. Oh, not entirely, of course; Rose did come back to him on Satellite Five because she knew he wouldn’t be okay. Donna knew he wasn’t all right on Midnight, and didn’t even wait for him to pretend otherwise. But Jack, today, was a revelation. It wasn’t being snogged to within an inch of his life that took him by surprise, but the obvious terror Jack went through over his safety.
Jack, too, still seems to think of himself as second-best - at least, if he’s interpreting that odd question of his correctly and it wasn’t just idle curiosity. Between bouts of lovemaking, in the middle of a very silly, very casual conversation, his friend asked about Donna. Why he’d needed to lock away her memories. What a metacrisis was, exactly. Why he hadn’t just been able to take away the Time Lord knowledge lodged in her brain instead.
Not possible, he explained; there wasn’t enough time, and even his genius brain couldn’t absorb all that additional knowledge at once. If he could have taken it from Donna bit by bit, he might have been able to cure her without removing her memories, but he’d have barely started by the time the metacrisis would have killed her.
Donna’s in his past. He has to recognise that, believe that she’ll be all right, and move on. But, this time, moving on won’t mean leaving his friends behind. That’s a lesson he’s learned, and a promise he’s already made to Jack.
And that’s why, a few hours later, he’s strolling into the Hub with a brand-new purchase in hand. The first person he sees is Ianto, who - as it happens - is exactly the person he was looking for.
“Ianto! Just the man!”
“Doctor.” Ianto smiles, and for the first time it’s genuine. He feels, somehow, that he’s finally earned the young man’s respect. “What can I do for you?”
“This.” He holds up the slim mobile he’s just bought in the city centre and that he’ll jiggery-poke as soon as he’s back in the TARDIS. “I need you to put Jack’s and Martha’s numbers on it. Oh, and you’d better put Mickey’s on too, I suppose. Sarah-Jane’s, if you have it?”
“I think I can find it, yes.” Ianto takes the phone. “And may I give anyone your number?”
“Everyone you’re putting into it. And take it yourself,” he adds, though he suspects Ianto was already planning on it. “I just need to see Jack,” he adds. “I’ll get it back from you after.”
He jogs up the stairs for a quick, private goodbye and a reassurance to Jack that he will be back. Jack’s just putting the phone down when he slips around the door of his friend’s office.
“What’s up?” he asks, seeing Jack’s frustrated grimace.
“Politicians.” The word’s almost a snarl. “The thing I hate most about this job. That was the Prime Minister.” He nods at the phone. “And if you repeat that I’ll have to kill you.”
“You’d regret it.” He grins back. “The next me might not fancy you.” A quick wink, then he continues, “So, what’s the problem?”
Jack exhales, clearly still calming down. “You know how many alien invasions we’ve had in the past few years alone. But the government, in its infinite wisdom, still has an official policy that aliens don’t exist. Oh, they know otherwise,” he adds as the Doctor stares at him, incredulous. “They just don’t want to deal with it. So there’s no official public education. No strategy - that’s just left up to UNIT and us. And no plan of action for a peaceful approach to interplanetary cooperation.”
All so short-sighted. Any idiot could see Jack’s point. “And there’s no-one in government - not one single person - willing to do something about it?”
Jack shrugs. “Oh, maybe there’s one or two who would. But the PM’s kinda... forceful. They won’t stand up to him.”
A slow smile spreads across the Doctor’s face. “I think I might have just the person for you.”
***
Not quite goodbye for now just yet, then. He’s got another errand to run first.
On his way back across the Hub concourse, he picks up his phone from Ianto and then notices Mickey standing with Jake. Mickey’s actually brought Jake into the Hub. Jack won’t be pleased.
“Jake! Suppose you want a lift back to Newcastle.”
Jake glances at Mickey, a look that speaks volumes about how quickly things have progressed between them. “Ah, not yet, thanks. Mickey here an’ I got stuff to talk about. I’ll get the train later.”
“Actually, handsome, you and I need to talk first,” Jack comments, coming up behind the two of them.
“Oi! Hands off, Captain Slut!” Mickey objects.
Jack cuffs Mickey lightly, but carries on talking to Jake. “I had Ianto check you out, Jake Simmons. And when Ianto checks someone out you better believe we know more about you than you do. You’ve got potential. You also know far more about Torchwood than anyone gets to know and be allowed to live. Consider yourself hired.”
Mickey blinks and looks delighted. Jake quirks an eyebrow. “What if I don’t want to be hired?”
“You are joking,” Jack says. “No, I mean I know you are,” he adds as Jake seems about to protest. “Security guard or Torchwood agent? You’d have to be crazy to choose anything else. We pay a hell of a lot more, for starters.”
“There’s also a far higher chance of getting killed,” Mickey points out, a broad grin spreading over his face.
“And there wasn’t in the army?” Hands on his hips, Jack still watches Jake. “Besides, you also get as much of Ianto’s coffee as you can drink. And you get to play with cool toys. Who wouldn’t want that?”
As Jake shakes hands with Jack, Mickey catches the Doctor’s eye. No words are said, but the look on his face says it all. A second chance, and one he’s determined to make the most of.
That’s good. Because everyone deserves a second chance, don’t they? It may be a lesson he’s learned late, but he’s learned it all the same.
***
Ten minutes later, he’s materialised in a quiet back garden and is strolling up to the kitchen door to knock sharply. The occupant’s eyes widen when she sees him.
“Harriet Jones!” he exclaims. “I’m bringing you out of retirement.”
“What?”
“House of Lords. Baroness Jones of Flydale, I should think. Oh, you’ll be brilliant. Minister for Alien Relations. And, yes, that does include me, though you’ll have to fight Captain Jack Harkness on that one. He likes to think he’s my exclusive Planet Earth liaison.”
“You, Doctor, are absolutely mad.”
He grins. “It’s been said, many times. Well? Will you do it?”
She’s tempted. He can see it in her eyes - and of course she’s interested. She’s bored, stuck away here in Yorkshire with no connection to government or people in power, with no-one knowing she’s alive. She’s got so much to contribute still, and she knows it.
It’s not quite undoing what he did to her, but it’s a step in the right direction. She’ll never be prime minister again, but she’ll have a significant role in influencing government, and she’ll get the place in history she deserves.
After a few moments, she says, “The PM will never appoint me.”
He’s got her. He grins again. “Ah, leave that to me.”
Brilliant. And, as he takes her on her first trip in the TARDIS, back to Cardiff to give Jack the good news and discuss strategy, he can’t help feeling that he’s finding more reasons day by day to feel good about this life after all.
***
It’s been another good day.
He’s on a planet he’s never been to before, where he arrived a few days ago to discover the inhabitants embroiled in a bloody civil war that’s been raging for decades. In memory of Donna and Jenny, and with thoughts of Martha’s approval in his head also, he determined to sort it out. Not that he wouldn’t have anyway, but this one’s for them.
It’s taken him all this time, and lots of talking and patience and even threats of terrible consequences, but he finally persuaded both sides to listen to him. And then to listen to each other. And, finally, to sit down and draft and sign a peace treaty.
This afternoon, both sides laid down their weapons in the middle of an empty field, once the most fought-over piece of land on the planet. Simultaneously, the leaders of each side took a piece of explosive and lobbed it onto the pile, and then stood back and cheered as the weapons burned.
He accepts their thanks, declines to stay for the peace celebrations, and strolls cheerfully back to the TARDIS. Just as he closes the door, his phone rings.
Jack’s name’s on the tiny screen. It hasn’t been that long since he left Cardiff, has it? Maybe eight or nine weeks, in his timeline. In Jack’s, of course, who knows? He promised Jack he’d be around every so often. Every three or four months, probably, on the Earth calendar, he estimated. Unless, of course, there’s another alien invasion and he ends up there sooner.
“Jack! What’s wrong this time? Realised you can’t handle an alien invasion without me? Your team managed to open the Rift again? Something you can’t translate?”
“Nothing like that.” Jack’s voice is amused, a lazy, relaxed drawl, and it sends a shiver through him. “Actually, I’m not looking for anything from you. For a change, it’s something I can do for you.”
The shiver turns to a frisson of warmth deep in his belly, and he has to shake himself. After all, Jack’s the one who continually has sex on the brain, isn’t he? “What’s that, then?”
Jack’s reply is the last thing he expects to hear. “I think I know how you can fix Donna.”
***
tbc