Fic: Dance with the Devil 1/3
Story: Dance with the Devil
Author: wmr / wendymr
Characters: Ninth Doctor, Rose Tyler, Jack Harkness, John Hart
Rated: PG13
Summary: Harkness's only problem is that he's forgotten the primary law of jungle survival: look out for number one.
Written for kholly in return for a very generous donation in the March Support Stacie auction. This story is a sequel to Doctor Faustus Dances, also written for kholly after last year's September auction. With very many thanks to the usual suspects, dark_aegis and yamx - couldn't have done it without you!
Chapter 1: Twist
Hidden in the trees, the watcher observes.
No more than a few paces away, two men wait. One’s compulsively checking the device on his wrist, pressing buttons and shaking his head when the readings aren’t what he wants to see. The other’s frowning, looking around.
The younger one says something. The older one silences him with one glance, then starts to pace.
The watcher reclines against a tree-trunk, crossing his arms, and settles in for a wait.
The younger man fidgets, hand moving to his weapon, then to his wrist-strap, and then to his head, worrying at his hair. The older man continues to pace.
Four minutes later, the pattern’s abruptly ended. The older man nods towards the trees on the other side of the clearing. His companion looks, goes still, and then grins. They high-five each other.
“I got it!” The third member of the trio shouts as she runs, shattering the near-silence. Through the trees on the other side of the clearing, she gradually becomes visible to the watcher, blonde hair flying in the breeze, legs in blue jeans pounding and her red top making her an easily-visible target.
The watcher fingers his weapon. If he wanted, he could shoot her dead right now, right in front of the two men so pleased to see her back safely.
But he won’t. That’s not his plan.
The younger man runs, arms outstretched, and catches the woman in his arms, swinging her around exuberantly. The older man has followed, and once the other two break apart he hugs the woman himself, less exuberantly but with no less happiness. Loosening his grip on the woman then, he claps the other man on the shoulder.
The watcher smiles. It’s just as he thought - and hoped.
Captain Jack Harkness - a name he must like, because he’s stuck with it - has found himself somewhere to belong. People who accept him and maybe even like him. Just perfect.
Harkness’s only problem is that he’s forgotten the primary law of jungle survival: Look out for number one.
Don’t get attached.
He’s let himself get attached to these two in their flying wooden box, and it’ll be his downfall.
The watcher melts silently back into the trees, and two seconds later blinks out of sight.
***
On the way back to the TARDIS, Rose walks by the Doctor’s side, holding his hand. Jack’s a couple of paces behind the two of them, a position he’s chosen - and thoroughly enjoys. He’s just far enough back to get a perfect view of their two gorgeous behinds. Rose’s deliciously-curved bum sways rhythmically as she walks, taking three steps to every two of the Doctor’s. The Doctor’s tight black jeans display his arse to perfection, muscles shifting with every step.
He wasn’t kidding when he told them, two weeks ago, that he was going to love having two gorgeous shipmates to flirt with - three, if he counted the TARDIS, which he does.
Rose glances back and grins at him. “Stop staring at my arse.”
“How did you know-” he starts.
She gives him a patented Tyler knowing look. “Eyes in the back of my head.”
“I’d believe her,” the Doctor comments dryly. “Up here, Captain.” The Time Lord points to the ground right beside him.
He jogs up to walk beside Rose instead. “Nice job back there.”
She flashes him a cheeky grin. “You’re not the only one who can distract a guard, you know.” As he grins back, she bumps him with her hip.
“Amateurs.” The Doctor’s shaking his head pityingly as he looks across at the two of them.
“Oh, yeah?” Rose’s tone is challenging. “An’ when’ve you last distracted a guard, Doctor?”
“Do it all the time!” he protests. “Expert at it, me.”
“Yeah, right,” Rose taunts.
“She’s right,” Jack says. “I don’t remember seeing you do the distracting, Doctor. It’s usually one of us doing the dirty work.”
The Doctor stares at them, eyebrows crawling halfway to his hairline. “You sayin’ I can’t do it?”
Rose shrugs. “Wouldn’t know, would I?” She glances to Jack, giving him a quick wink. He gives her a complicit smile in return.
“So how about proving it, Doctor?” he suggests. “Next time, your turn. Okay?”
The Doctor’s sigh is long-suffering. “If it’ll keep you two apes happy, yeah.”
Rose links arms with Jack. “Just for that, Doctor, you’re making the tea when we get back!”
***
The next day, the Doctor steps out of the TARDIS ahead of his companions, sniffs the air, and nods in satisfaction. They’re close to the edge of the frozen Ragadashillian canyon, one of the most beautiful sights in the Gloraxa galaxy, and - thanks to vigilantly-enforced no-weapons rules at every port of entry - also one of the most peaceful.
There’ll be no distracting guards today.
Not that he can’t distract guards, of course. Fantastic at it, he is. It’s just easier to send companions most of the time, because it frees him up to do the real work.
He glances behind him. The humans are still pulling coats on. Wimps. “Come on, you two! Get a move on! Can’t wait around all day.”
“Time machine,” Rose mutters as she hurries out onto the packed ice and snow, wrapping a long scarf around her face. He used to have a scarf like that, long and woollen and multi-coloured. Wonder where it got to?
Jack, scarfless and clearly gloveless, has his hands shoved deep into the pockets of the padded anorak he found in the wardrobe room. Probably decided the rest of the gear - hat, gloves and so on - was for wimps, and now he’s regretting it.
The Doctor smirks. “Come on, then. This way!”
“Couldn’t we have come in summer?” Rose asks a minute or two later, her teeth beginning to chatter.
He snorts. “This is summer.”
“Hate to see winter, then,” Jack retorts, stamping his feet as he walks.
“Oh, stop complaining. Look around!” He waves an arm. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
“It’s... white,” Rose says. “Yeah, very pretty an’ all, but it’s just white.”
He rolls his eyes. “Humans! Can’t you even see what’s beyond your noses?”
Jack sighs. “He’s in one of those moods again. Come on, Rose.” The Captain holds out his hand to Rose. “Let’s see if we can find out what he wants us to see. He’ll be insufferable until we do.”
Rose grins, and the two of them run off together, sliding here and there on the ice, but managing to stay upright. And then, ten minutes later, as he strolls behind them, they reach the edge of the canyon, and he hears Rose’s gasp.
“Wow. That’s amazing!”
Jack turns back and gives the Doctor a thumbs-up. “Definitely worth seeing.”
The Doctor strolls up to the edge of the canyon, joining his companions in looking down at the frozen glacier below and the thousands of stalactites and stalagmites clinging to tops and bottoms of rock protruding from the canyon edge. In the cold summer sun, they shine and glint like crystal chandeliers.
“Still think it’s too cold?” he asks Rose with a smirk.
She pokes him with her elbow. “Nah. ‘S lovely. But you’re making us hot chocolate when we get back.”
“With Flakes,” Jack adds.
“Think Rose ate the last Flake,” he teases, then ducks as Rose swipes at him with her scarf.
***
Later, walking back to the TARDIS, she links arms with both her men. They’ll stop her from falling on her backside on the ice, but that’s not the only reason. Who wouldn’t grab onto two gorgeous men if they had the chance?
They’re almost back at the ship, with about thirty yards to go, and Jack’s describing his ideal surroundings for drinking hot chocolate - lounging on a soft fur rug in front of a blazing fire, all three of them naked - when he trails off abruptly.
“Doctor.” His voice is very soft, and very dangerous.
“I see them.”
And so does Rose. Three men are coming around from the sides of the TARDIS, and now they’re forming a line in front of the door. They’re tall and bulky, all of them, easily Jack and the Doctor’s height and broader than Jack, and something about the way they’re holding themselves tells her they’re trained to fight.
Jack frees his arm and slides a hand inside his coat. “I’ll find out what they want.”
The Doctor steps forward, one arm outstretched to keep the two of them behind him. “Nah. My turn to distract the guard, didn’t you say?”
He strolls forward, not a care in the world for all anyone can see. “Hello! I’m the Doctor an’ that’s my ship. Somethin’ I can do for you?”
The three men shift their stances very slightly, but just enough to go from laid-back to threatening. “Damn,” Jack mutters. “Stay back, all right?”
“But-” she starts to protest.
“I’m armed, you’re not. And if you’re there, that’s someone else I have to watch out for,” he tells her, his words fast and rough. “Stay, okay?”
“All right,” she agrees, but he’s already jogging up to join the Doctor, and she can see he’s reaching for his blaster.
“We don’t want any trouble,” Jack says, his tone casual but with a warning note there nonetheless. “Just move out of the way and let us into our ship, and we’ll forget you were ever here.”
The one in the centre folds his arms. “We like trouble.” She thinks the other two are nodding, but Jack’s in the way so she can’t see clearly.
“I’ve got a weapon,” Jack says. “So does he.” He nods towards the Doctor; Rose can’t help smiling at the thought of how the Doctor’s reacting to the sonic being described as a weapon. “And no matter how fast you are, two of you would still be dead before the third’s drawn his weapon. So, how about it? You want to take the one in three chance you’ll be the one left alive?”
The ruffian in the centre says something to the other two, and then suddenly the three of them are talking and arguing among themselves, leaving the Doctor and Jack - from what Rose can see - staring at them and trying to figure out what they’re up to. Twice, the Doctor tries to get their attention to get them to move away from the TARDIS, but if anything the argument only intensifies.
She’s about to move forward to join the Doctor and Jack, but at that precise moment a cry sounds from behind her. She freezes, listening; it sounded like the wail of a woman in pain.
She spins on her heel and runs back in the direction of the cry, sliding a bit on the ice as she searches around with her gaze for someone, anyone, who might have made that sound. Dusk is falling, and the rocky landscape combined with white snow and ice everywhere makes it difficult to distinguish anything that might be a life-form.
There’s a bright flash beside her, and then, abruptly, something grabs her arm. She turns with an exclamation, getting a very brief glimpse of a face that looks familiar, before there’s another flash and her surroundings vanish.
***
“What are these idiots up to?” the Doctor mutters impatiently to Jack.
It makes no sense at all. They’re just arguing among themselves about whose fault it is that they’re here and what they’re supposed to do next. Both he and Jack have tried suggesting that they just go away, but the blokes have ignored them - except for the last time he told them to get out of the way. Then, the bloke on the left told him to go and do something anatomically impossible.
“Come on, this is ridiculous,” Jack exclaims. “Let’s just rush them and have done with it. Two of us, we can take them on, no problem.”
“Might as well,” he agrees, adding, “Count of three?”
“One... tw-” Jack breaks off abruptly and the two of them just stare. Because, in less than the blink of an eye, the three men have vanished.
“Teleport,” he pronounces, and reaches for the sonic screwdriver, intending to reverse it. But nothing happens. “That’s not right,” he mutters. “Should work, that should.”
“Problem?” Jack’s already running towards the TARDIS, blaster still in his hand, tapping on his wrist-computer with his free hand.
“It’s not reversing.”
Jack pauses, turning on his heel. “And it would usually, right?” He nods. “Then these guys aren’t as stupid as they looked. There’s some high-tech stuff going on here.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. The energy signature they left behind’s not your bog-standard teleport. I can’t even trace it. If I didn’t know better, I’d think they’re Time Agency.” Jack frowns. “What do I mean, if I didn’t know better? They’ve got to be Time Agency. But that doesn’t make any sense. Why would they...? Unless they’re still after you? But you warned Hart off pretty damned convincingly.”
Right. Yes, back on Mirage. But, in his experience, being warned off just makes some people even more determined than they were before.
Yet it doesn’t make sense. Why would the Time Agency send people to stand in front of his TARDIS and have an argu-
Oh. Oh. “They were a distraction,” he says, and his mind’s working overtime. A distraction from what?
Jack’s running towards him, his face white, and he’s pointing back behind him. The Doctor turns, then looks back at Jack, frowning in puzzlement.
“Rose,” Jack says, worry in his voice. “That was the distraction. Rose is missing.”
***
Who would take Rose? And why?
The Doctor’s not convinced that’s what’s happened, or at least he won’t admit it. He can’t see a reason why Rose would have been abducted from here. Not a planet like this, with such general pride in its reputation for peaceful existence. “Besides,” he says, “she wouldn’t have just gone off with someone. She’d have fought. She’d have shouted for us.”
Not if she wasn’t given a chance. He’s got a really bad feeling about this. And he’s sure the Doctor does too, but he just doesn’t want to admit it.
“And what would the Time Agency want with her, anyway?” the Doctor adds, his brows drawing together. “She’s from the twenty-first century. She’d never even heard of the Time Agency before we met you.”
But Jack’s wrist computer’s not showing any life signs nearby apart from the two of them. He tells the Doctor that, but the Time Lord doesn’t want to hear it.
“Wouldn’t trust that thing to give an accurate reading,” he says dismissively. “Cheap second-rate technology.”
Jack says nothing. The Doctor’s more rattled than he’s showing, and arguing will only make it worse. He’s not ready to accept that Rose hasn’t just wandered off. But they’re wasting time - time they could be using to try to track those bozos who distracted their attention.
They start to search anyway, backtracking and calling her name. It’s getting darker every minute, though, which makes it harder. The Doctor digs a torch from one of his pockets, and Jack’s wrist computer can also cast light on the ground if he twists his wrist in the right direction. But it’s still not enough to illuminate all the shadows and gulleys. If she’s fallen down somewhere and broken a bone or two, if she’s unconscious...
“Why don’t they ever listen?” the Doctor continues, the irritation in his voice barely disguising his growing worry. “Don’t wander off. It’s the first thing I tell them. It’s-” He breaks off. “Here.”
Jack runs to him. “What?”
The Doctor’s holding the screwdriver, pointing at the ground just in front of where he’s standing. “Energy signature. You thought I was just lookin’ for Rose? Knew if she’d been teleported there’d be a trace.”
Oh. Not in denial, then. He could’ve said. “Same kind of tech as the other signatures?”
“Yep. Most likely your Time Agent colleagues again.”
The description hurts. He hasn’t been a Time Agent for well over a year, and wouldn’t go back now if they crawled on their hands and knees and begged him. But, all the same, he doesn’t blame the Doctor. The Time Agency, if it is them, is only involved here because of him.
Damn him - Wait. What-?
“Doctor.” Jack’s voice is tense, and for good reason. His wrist computer’s just started to vibrate. “I’ve got an incoming message.”
“You’ve what?” The Doctor’s beside him in under a second. “One guess who,” the Time Lord adds, barely-restrained rage in his voice.
The only people who could - well, he’d guess apart from the Doctor himself - would be the Time Agency. But, while it’s true that he doesn’t imagine for a second that they’ve erased him and whatever it is he did from institutional memory, he realises suddenly that he’d bet the next five years of his life on the identity of the particular Time Agent this message is from.
With a deep breath, and a sideways glance at the Doctor, he hits the receive button.
Instantly, a holographic image of John Hart appears a few feet in front of them. A very smug-looking John Hart, with-
“That’s Rose!” the Doctor exclaims, starting to dart forward, then stopping sheepishly as he reminds himself that it’s only an image.
Rose is lying on the ground, not moving, and Jack’s heart is in his throat. “If he’s killed-”
“Relax, playmates!” Hart’s slightly distorted voice carols triumphantly. “Your little blonde friend’s very much alive... at the moment. She’s just a tiny bit unconscious. Not to worry, I didn’t hurt her. Just gave her a sniff of a favourite little drug of mine. You’ll remember it, Jack.”
His fists clench. Yes, he remembers it. Hart used it on him during that time-loop whenever he wanted a bit of bondage action and didn’t care whether Jack was in the mood.
“What do you want?” he growls. Waste of time, of course. It’s a one-way transmission.
“Now, I know you and your Time Lord friend will be wondering exactly what it is I want. Well, I won’t keep you in suspense.” Hart’s teeth bare in a parody of a smile. “It’s simple, really. More than a fair trade, I’m sure you’ll agree.”
Hart pauses again, changing his stance. Bastard’s doing it deliberately, of course. Jack glances at the Doctor, seeing his rigid jawline and the fierce, terrifying look in his eyes.
“So here’s the deal, Doctor. And if you want to see your little blonde friend alive again, you’ll follow it to the letter. I’ll give her back to you, unharmed, without even a scratch... when you deliver Captain Jack Harkness’s dead body to me.”
***
tbc in chapter 2, Chaines.
Author: wmr / wendymr
Characters: Ninth Doctor, Rose Tyler, Jack Harkness, John Hart
Rated: PG13
Summary: Harkness's only problem is that he's forgotten the primary law of jungle survival: look out for number one.
Written for kholly in return for a very generous donation in the March Support Stacie auction. This story is a sequel to Doctor Faustus Dances, also written for kholly after last year's September auction. With very many thanks to the usual suspects, dark_aegis and yamx - couldn't have done it without you!
Chapter 1: Twist
Hidden in the trees, the watcher observes.
No more than a few paces away, two men wait. One’s compulsively checking the device on his wrist, pressing buttons and shaking his head when the readings aren’t what he wants to see. The other’s frowning, looking around.
The younger one says something. The older one silences him with one glance, then starts to pace.
The watcher reclines against a tree-trunk, crossing his arms, and settles in for a wait.
The younger man fidgets, hand moving to his weapon, then to his wrist-strap, and then to his head, worrying at his hair. The older man continues to pace.
Four minutes later, the pattern’s abruptly ended. The older man nods towards the trees on the other side of the clearing. His companion looks, goes still, and then grins. They high-five each other.
“I got it!” The third member of the trio shouts as she runs, shattering the near-silence. Through the trees on the other side of the clearing, she gradually becomes visible to the watcher, blonde hair flying in the breeze, legs in blue jeans pounding and her red top making her an easily-visible target.
The watcher fingers his weapon. If he wanted, he could shoot her dead right now, right in front of the two men so pleased to see her back safely.
But he won’t. That’s not his plan.
The younger man runs, arms outstretched, and catches the woman in his arms, swinging her around exuberantly. The older man has followed, and once the other two break apart he hugs the woman himself, less exuberantly but with no less happiness. Loosening his grip on the woman then, he claps the other man on the shoulder.
The watcher smiles. It’s just as he thought - and hoped.
Captain Jack Harkness - a name he must like, because he’s stuck with it - has found himself somewhere to belong. People who accept him and maybe even like him. Just perfect.
Harkness’s only problem is that he’s forgotten the primary law of jungle survival: Look out for number one.
Don’t get attached.
He’s let himself get attached to these two in their flying wooden box, and it’ll be his downfall.
The watcher melts silently back into the trees, and two seconds later blinks out of sight.
***
On the way back to the TARDIS, Rose walks by the Doctor’s side, holding his hand. Jack’s a couple of paces behind the two of them, a position he’s chosen - and thoroughly enjoys. He’s just far enough back to get a perfect view of their two gorgeous behinds. Rose’s deliciously-curved bum sways rhythmically as she walks, taking three steps to every two of the Doctor’s. The Doctor’s tight black jeans display his arse to perfection, muscles shifting with every step.
He wasn’t kidding when he told them, two weeks ago, that he was going to love having two gorgeous shipmates to flirt with - three, if he counted the TARDIS, which he does.
Rose glances back and grins at him. “Stop staring at my arse.”
“How did you know-” he starts.
She gives him a patented Tyler knowing look. “Eyes in the back of my head.”
“I’d believe her,” the Doctor comments dryly. “Up here, Captain.” The Time Lord points to the ground right beside him.
He jogs up to walk beside Rose instead. “Nice job back there.”
She flashes him a cheeky grin. “You’re not the only one who can distract a guard, you know.” As he grins back, she bumps him with her hip.
“Amateurs.” The Doctor’s shaking his head pityingly as he looks across at the two of them.
“Oh, yeah?” Rose’s tone is challenging. “An’ when’ve you last distracted a guard, Doctor?”
“Do it all the time!” he protests. “Expert at it, me.”
“Yeah, right,” Rose taunts.
“She’s right,” Jack says. “I don’t remember seeing you do the distracting, Doctor. It’s usually one of us doing the dirty work.”
The Doctor stares at them, eyebrows crawling halfway to his hairline. “You sayin’ I can’t do it?”
Rose shrugs. “Wouldn’t know, would I?” She glances to Jack, giving him a quick wink. He gives her a complicit smile in return.
“So how about proving it, Doctor?” he suggests. “Next time, your turn. Okay?”
The Doctor’s sigh is long-suffering. “If it’ll keep you two apes happy, yeah.”
Rose links arms with Jack. “Just for that, Doctor, you’re making the tea when we get back!”
***
The next day, the Doctor steps out of the TARDIS ahead of his companions, sniffs the air, and nods in satisfaction. They’re close to the edge of the frozen Ragadashillian canyon, one of the most beautiful sights in the Gloraxa galaxy, and - thanks to vigilantly-enforced no-weapons rules at every port of entry - also one of the most peaceful.
There’ll be no distracting guards today.
Not that he can’t distract guards, of course. Fantastic at it, he is. It’s just easier to send companions most of the time, because it frees him up to do the real work.
He glances behind him. The humans are still pulling coats on. Wimps. “Come on, you two! Get a move on! Can’t wait around all day.”
“Time machine,” Rose mutters as she hurries out onto the packed ice and snow, wrapping a long scarf around her face. He used to have a scarf like that, long and woollen and multi-coloured. Wonder where it got to?
Jack, scarfless and clearly gloveless, has his hands shoved deep into the pockets of the padded anorak he found in the wardrobe room. Probably decided the rest of the gear - hat, gloves and so on - was for wimps, and now he’s regretting it.
The Doctor smirks. “Come on, then. This way!”
“Couldn’t we have come in summer?” Rose asks a minute or two later, her teeth beginning to chatter.
He snorts. “This is summer.”
“Hate to see winter, then,” Jack retorts, stamping his feet as he walks.
“Oh, stop complaining. Look around!” He waves an arm. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
“It’s... white,” Rose says. “Yeah, very pretty an’ all, but it’s just white.”
He rolls his eyes. “Humans! Can’t you even see what’s beyond your noses?”
Jack sighs. “He’s in one of those moods again. Come on, Rose.” The Captain holds out his hand to Rose. “Let’s see if we can find out what he wants us to see. He’ll be insufferable until we do.”
Rose grins, and the two of them run off together, sliding here and there on the ice, but managing to stay upright. And then, ten minutes later, as he strolls behind them, they reach the edge of the canyon, and he hears Rose’s gasp.
“Wow. That’s amazing!”
Jack turns back and gives the Doctor a thumbs-up. “Definitely worth seeing.”
The Doctor strolls up to the edge of the canyon, joining his companions in looking down at the frozen glacier below and the thousands of stalactites and stalagmites clinging to tops and bottoms of rock protruding from the canyon edge. In the cold summer sun, they shine and glint like crystal chandeliers.
“Still think it’s too cold?” he asks Rose with a smirk.
She pokes him with her elbow. “Nah. ‘S lovely. But you’re making us hot chocolate when we get back.”
“With Flakes,” Jack adds.
“Think Rose ate the last Flake,” he teases, then ducks as Rose swipes at him with her scarf.
***
Later, walking back to the TARDIS, she links arms with both her men. They’ll stop her from falling on her backside on the ice, but that’s not the only reason. Who wouldn’t grab onto two gorgeous men if they had the chance?
They’re almost back at the ship, with about thirty yards to go, and Jack’s describing his ideal surroundings for drinking hot chocolate - lounging on a soft fur rug in front of a blazing fire, all three of them naked - when he trails off abruptly.
“Doctor.” His voice is very soft, and very dangerous.
“I see them.”
And so does Rose. Three men are coming around from the sides of the TARDIS, and now they’re forming a line in front of the door. They’re tall and bulky, all of them, easily Jack and the Doctor’s height and broader than Jack, and something about the way they’re holding themselves tells her they’re trained to fight.
Jack frees his arm and slides a hand inside his coat. “I’ll find out what they want.”
The Doctor steps forward, one arm outstretched to keep the two of them behind him. “Nah. My turn to distract the guard, didn’t you say?”
He strolls forward, not a care in the world for all anyone can see. “Hello! I’m the Doctor an’ that’s my ship. Somethin’ I can do for you?”
The three men shift their stances very slightly, but just enough to go from laid-back to threatening. “Damn,” Jack mutters. “Stay back, all right?”
“But-” she starts to protest.
“I’m armed, you’re not. And if you’re there, that’s someone else I have to watch out for,” he tells her, his words fast and rough. “Stay, okay?”
“All right,” she agrees, but he’s already jogging up to join the Doctor, and she can see he’s reaching for his blaster.
“We don’t want any trouble,” Jack says, his tone casual but with a warning note there nonetheless. “Just move out of the way and let us into our ship, and we’ll forget you were ever here.”
The one in the centre folds his arms. “We like trouble.” She thinks the other two are nodding, but Jack’s in the way so she can’t see clearly.
“I’ve got a weapon,” Jack says. “So does he.” He nods towards the Doctor; Rose can’t help smiling at the thought of how the Doctor’s reacting to the sonic being described as a weapon. “And no matter how fast you are, two of you would still be dead before the third’s drawn his weapon. So, how about it? You want to take the one in three chance you’ll be the one left alive?”
The ruffian in the centre says something to the other two, and then suddenly the three of them are talking and arguing among themselves, leaving the Doctor and Jack - from what Rose can see - staring at them and trying to figure out what they’re up to. Twice, the Doctor tries to get their attention to get them to move away from the TARDIS, but if anything the argument only intensifies.
She’s about to move forward to join the Doctor and Jack, but at that precise moment a cry sounds from behind her. She freezes, listening; it sounded like the wail of a woman in pain.
She spins on her heel and runs back in the direction of the cry, sliding a bit on the ice as she searches around with her gaze for someone, anyone, who might have made that sound. Dusk is falling, and the rocky landscape combined with white snow and ice everywhere makes it difficult to distinguish anything that might be a life-form.
There’s a bright flash beside her, and then, abruptly, something grabs her arm. She turns with an exclamation, getting a very brief glimpse of a face that looks familiar, before there’s another flash and her surroundings vanish.
***
“What are these idiots up to?” the Doctor mutters impatiently to Jack.
It makes no sense at all. They’re just arguing among themselves about whose fault it is that they’re here and what they’re supposed to do next. Both he and Jack have tried suggesting that they just go away, but the blokes have ignored them - except for the last time he told them to get out of the way. Then, the bloke on the left told him to go and do something anatomically impossible.
“Come on, this is ridiculous,” Jack exclaims. “Let’s just rush them and have done with it. Two of us, we can take them on, no problem.”
“Might as well,” he agrees, adding, “Count of three?”
“One... tw-” Jack breaks off abruptly and the two of them just stare. Because, in less than the blink of an eye, the three men have vanished.
“Teleport,” he pronounces, and reaches for the sonic screwdriver, intending to reverse it. But nothing happens. “That’s not right,” he mutters. “Should work, that should.”
“Problem?” Jack’s already running towards the TARDIS, blaster still in his hand, tapping on his wrist-computer with his free hand.
“It’s not reversing.”
Jack pauses, turning on his heel. “And it would usually, right?” He nods. “Then these guys aren’t as stupid as they looked. There’s some high-tech stuff going on here.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. The energy signature they left behind’s not your bog-standard teleport. I can’t even trace it. If I didn’t know better, I’d think they’re Time Agency.” Jack frowns. “What do I mean, if I didn’t know better? They’ve got to be Time Agency. But that doesn’t make any sense. Why would they...? Unless they’re still after you? But you warned Hart off pretty damned convincingly.”
Right. Yes, back on Mirage. But, in his experience, being warned off just makes some people even more determined than they were before.
Yet it doesn’t make sense. Why would the Time Agency send people to stand in front of his TARDIS and have an argu-
Oh. Oh. “They were a distraction,” he says, and his mind’s working overtime. A distraction from what?
Jack’s running towards him, his face white, and he’s pointing back behind him. The Doctor turns, then looks back at Jack, frowning in puzzlement.
“Rose,” Jack says, worry in his voice. “That was the distraction. Rose is missing.”
***
Who would take Rose? And why?
The Doctor’s not convinced that’s what’s happened, or at least he won’t admit it. He can’t see a reason why Rose would have been abducted from here. Not a planet like this, with such general pride in its reputation for peaceful existence. “Besides,” he says, “she wouldn’t have just gone off with someone. She’d have fought. She’d have shouted for us.”
Not if she wasn’t given a chance. He’s got a really bad feeling about this. And he’s sure the Doctor does too, but he just doesn’t want to admit it.
“And what would the Time Agency want with her, anyway?” the Doctor adds, his brows drawing together. “She’s from the twenty-first century. She’d never even heard of the Time Agency before we met you.”
But Jack’s wrist computer’s not showing any life signs nearby apart from the two of them. He tells the Doctor that, but the Time Lord doesn’t want to hear it.
“Wouldn’t trust that thing to give an accurate reading,” he says dismissively. “Cheap second-rate technology.”
Jack says nothing. The Doctor’s more rattled than he’s showing, and arguing will only make it worse. He’s not ready to accept that Rose hasn’t just wandered off. But they’re wasting time - time they could be using to try to track those bozos who distracted their attention.
They start to search anyway, backtracking and calling her name. It’s getting darker every minute, though, which makes it harder. The Doctor digs a torch from one of his pockets, and Jack’s wrist computer can also cast light on the ground if he twists his wrist in the right direction. But it’s still not enough to illuminate all the shadows and gulleys. If she’s fallen down somewhere and broken a bone or two, if she’s unconscious...
“Why don’t they ever listen?” the Doctor continues, the irritation in his voice barely disguising his growing worry. “Don’t wander off. It’s the first thing I tell them. It’s-” He breaks off. “Here.”
Jack runs to him. “What?”
The Doctor’s holding the screwdriver, pointing at the ground just in front of where he’s standing. “Energy signature. You thought I was just lookin’ for Rose? Knew if she’d been teleported there’d be a trace.”
Oh. Not in denial, then. He could’ve said. “Same kind of tech as the other signatures?”
“Yep. Most likely your Time Agent colleagues again.”
The description hurts. He hasn’t been a Time Agent for well over a year, and wouldn’t go back now if they crawled on their hands and knees and begged him. But, all the same, he doesn’t blame the Doctor. The Time Agency, if it is them, is only involved here because of him.
Damn him - Wait. What-?
“Doctor.” Jack’s voice is tense, and for good reason. His wrist computer’s just started to vibrate. “I’ve got an incoming message.”
“You’ve what?” The Doctor’s beside him in under a second. “One guess who,” the Time Lord adds, barely-restrained rage in his voice.
The only people who could - well, he’d guess apart from the Doctor himself - would be the Time Agency. But, while it’s true that he doesn’t imagine for a second that they’ve erased him and whatever it is he did from institutional memory, he realises suddenly that he’d bet the next five years of his life on the identity of the particular Time Agent this message is from.
With a deep breath, and a sideways glance at the Doctor, he hits the receive button.
Instantly, a holographic image of John Hart appears a few feet in front of them. A very smug-looking John Hart, with-
“That’s Rose!” the Doctor exclaims, starting to dart forward, then stopping sheepishly as he reminds himself that it’s only an image.
Rose is lying on the ground, not moving, and Jack’s heart is in his throat. “If he’s killed-”
“Relax, playmates!” Hart’s slightly distorted voice carols triumphantly. “Your little blonde friend’s very much alive... at the moment. She’s just a tiny bit unconscious. Not to worry, I didn’t hurt her. Just gave her a sniff of a favourite little drug of mine. You’ll remember it, Jack.”
His fists clench. Yes, he remembers it. Hart used it on him during that time-loop whenever he wanted a bit of bondage action and didn’t care whether Jack was in the mood.
“What do you want?” he growls. Waste of time, of course. It’s a one-way transmission.
“Now, I know you and your Time Lord friend will be wondering exactly what it is I want. Well, I won’t keep you in suspense.” Hart’s teeth bare in a parody of a smile. “It’s simple, really. More than a fair trade, I’m sure you’ll agree.”
Hart pauses again, changing his stance. Bastard’s doing it deliberately, of course. Jack glances at the Doctor, seeing his rigid jawline and the fierce, terrifying look in his eyes.
“So here’s the deal, Doctor. And if you want to see your little blonde friend alive again, you’ll follow it to the letter. I’ll give her back to you, unharmed, without even a scratch... when you deliver Captain Jack Harkness’s dead body to me.”
***
tbc in chapter 2, Chaines.