Fic: Sphere of Influence 2/5?
Story: Sphere of Influence
Author: wmr / wendymr
Characters: Ninth Doctor, Jack Harkness, Rose Tyler
Rated: PG13
Summary: He’s like a magnet. A gravity well, sucking in everything within his sphere of influence, drawing them to him whether they like it or not.
Written for space_monkey52 in return for an extremely generous donation to the Queensland flood appeal. Thank you SO much for your generosity. Many thanks also to dark_aegis for BRing. Sorry for the long delay between chapters; I forgot I was going to be away over Easter, and then I had to wait while I was upgraded to a new computer.
Chapter 1: Clean-up Duty
Chapter 2: Amusements
Rose adds a couple of final strokes of lipstick, then stretches her lips to check the effect in her mirror. The Doctor’s suggested going to Blackpool for fish and chips tonight, and her mouth’s already watering at the prospect.
A sharp tap at her door makes her turn. The Doctor’s standing in the open doorway, and Jack’s just visible behind him. “We’re going already?” she asks, surprised. She’d thought he meant another half-hour or so.
“Not yet.” The Doctor’s expression is forbidding, and she gets up to come towards him, giving him a questioning look. “Something you need to see.” He turns to Jack. “Show her.”
The Doctor steps into her room, and she can see Jack properly. “Doctor! You could at least have let him have a shower first!”
“Harkness,” the Doctor says, and that’s when she realises he’s furious.
Jack reaches into the pocket of his overalls, and she watches him, still baffled. Until he steps towards her, holding out a ring she recognises. It’s one the Doctor bought for her over a month ago - the first present he gave her, apart from her TARDIS key, and it’s devastated her that she lost it. She hasn’t even been able to tell him, and was dreading him asking why she hasn’t worn it in over a week.
“Jack, you found it!” She’d hug him, but the way he looks and smells right now... no. Definitely later, though. “Thank you! I never thought I’d see that again.”
“He didn’t find it, Rose. He was stealin’ it.”
She swings around to stare at the Doctor. “What? How? I lost it weeks ago.” How could Jack possibly have been stealing it?
Jack pushes the ring into her hand, then steps back - and that’s when she notices his eyes and the lines around his mouth. Resentment... and resignation. He doesn’t expect his side of this story to be believed.
“Jack,” she says quickly, loudly, before the Doctor can speak. “Where did you find it?”
He glances at the Doctor, but then straightens his shoulders. “I was cleaning out the drains and found it in a pile of sludge. Figured someone might want it back.”
That makes sense. “It must’ve fallen down the drain in the bathroom.” She nods towards the en-suite attached to her bedroom. “I would’ve taken it off to shower or wash my hands, so I probably left it next to the sink.”
Jack found it - and the Doctor’s calling him a thief. That’s just not fair.
The Doctor’s still glowering, and if she had to guess she’d say that Jack’s next stop is likely to be an ice-planet - or an air-lock. Not if she’s got anything to do with it.
Sod getting dirty. She flings her arms around Jack. “Thank you. I’ve been searching everywhere for this.”
He holds himself stiffly for a moment. “I’m filthy, Rose.”
“Don’t care.” She tightens her grip, then reaches up and presses a kiss to his cheek. He stinks, but it’s only dirt.
“Must matter a lot to you, huh?” He folds his arms around her, hugging her back.
“Yeah.” She steals a glance at the Doctor; his brows are drawn together. “Sentimental value.”
Jack releases her, and he’s finally - almost - smiling. “Glad I found it, then.”
“You’re honestly saying you were going to give it back?” There’s still suspicion in the Doctor’s tone, but he doesn’t sound as convinced as he was before.
“That would imply that I had taken it in the first place.” Jack’s words are clipped.
“You were putting it in your pocket,” the Doctor points out.
Jack’s sigh is impatient, and he sounds almost like the irresponsible criminal he claimed to be back at the Albion Hospital. “I needed somewhere safe to keep it while I finished the job you told me to do.”
The Doctor looks from Jack to Rose, and he’s clearly uncomfortable. “I didn’t even know you’d lost it.”
She swallows, looking down at the floor. “Didn’t want to tell you. I-”
“What?” His expression is appalled. “What did you think I’d do?”
Oh, bugger. Now he thinks she’s afraid of him, and she’s not. “I... just felt bad. I mean, you bought it for me an’ I didn’t want you to think I didn’t care enough to look after it.”
“Oh.” He’s not just surprised by what she’s said, that’s clear. He looks gobsmacked - and guilty. “So you weren’t stealin’ it,” he says to Jack - and there’s definitely a hint of guilt and embarrassment in his voice.
“No.” Jack’s response is firm and cold.
The Doctor doesn’t drop his gaze. “I was wrong. I apologise.”
There’s a pause, during which Jack says nothing, and Rose holds her breath. Is he actually going to refuse to accept the Doctor’s apology? But, finally, he nods. “Thank you.” He starts to turn, as if he’s leaving, but then changes his mind. “I’d like to be dropped off on Fy Ndu, please, if that’s all right with you.”
The Doctor’s holding himself rigid again, and his voice is no less stiff. “Talk about that later. You both need to get cleaned up, an’ then I promised Rose fish and chips.”
With that, he turns abruptly and marches from the room, brushing past Jack without stopping, and his footsteps echo loudly down the hall.
***
The shower in his room has eight jets and gives a damn good massage. Which is pretty useful given his neck and shoulders are full of knots from a day spent on his hands and knees scrubbing.
It’s a good twenty minutes before he stops smelling the dirt and stink that clung to him. How Rose could bring herself to hug him he has no idea.
She believed him. She didn’t even hesitate. Unlike the Doctor, who never thought for one second that his motives were pure.
To think that, earlier, he was regretting the circumstances in which he met the Doctor - and even starting to hope that it could be a few days before he got dropped off wherever the Doctor decided to leave him, so that he could make an attempt at changing that first impression.
If he could leave right now, he’d already be walking out the door.
Fish and chips, the Doctor said. Classic twentieth-century English comfort food, if he recalls his early modern history and culture lectures properly. So too primitive a time for his needs. No likelihood of catching a lift on a spaceship, let alone a time-ship, wherever the Doctor’s headed this evening.
Though there’s always the possibility that the Doctor - being well aware of this fact - planned this as his dropping-off point.
Maybe he should pretend to be tired. Shouldn’t be too hard after all the work he’s done today, and his lack of sleep last night. He could probably fall asleep in a few minutes if he lay down. Could be a good option for a couple of reasons, the second being that he’s not particularly anxious to see the Doctor again after what happened.
Towelling himself off in front of the frankly huge and flatteringly well-lit mirror, he considers his options. It occurs to him then that the Doctor might even be expecting him to stay behind. In fact, was he even invited?
He runs over the conversation - no, the Doctor’s pronouncement - in his head again. I promised Rose fish and chips. Not a word about himself in that statement. So it’s entirely possible that he’s neither invited nor welcome to come.
Well, that suits him.
A sardonic voice in his head says Thought you were a coward.
He curses.
Why the hell should he even care what the Doctor thinks? But it seems he does, like it or not. And not because he’s a Time Lord. Because there’s just something about him... He’s like a magnet. A gravity well, sucking in everything within his sphere of influence, drawing them to him whether they like it or not.
How would the Doctor feel in his place, being accused of something he didn’t do on completely circumstantial evidence and without even being asked? If he’d been in the Doctor’s place, finding a guy tucking a piece of jewellery away in his clothes...
A valuable piece, with a rare stone that’s only available in limited quantities on one planet in the universe. And being hidden away by someone he barely knew, but who’d outed himself as a conman and a thief and laughed about it, and had almost wiped out the human race.
Oh, yeah. He’d have assumed exactly what the Doctor did. No reason to think anything different.
Okay. He’ll go with them for fish and chips tonight, invited or not - after a day of physical work, he’s definitely ready for real carbohydrates and fat. As long as he sticks like glue to the two of them, he can’t be left behind. And then, for as long as he’s got left on board the Doctor’s ship, he’s going to show this mythical man that he’s not completely a waste of space; that he can be bigger on the inside.
***
He jumped to conclusions, and now he’s been well and truly wrong-footed. Put in the position of owing Harkness the con-man an apology.
Rose would tell him it’s his own fault, and she’d be right.
So. Harkness’s innocence of the charge of theft - in this case, anyway - together with the way he’s worked all day today means that he owes it to the bloke at least to consider his request to be taken to a destination of his choice. Well, maybe. He’s not quite ready to decide what’s to be done with the Captain yet.
So in the meantime, he can be charitable. Friendly, even. Helps to keep blokes like Harkness off balance. You never know what they’ll reveal.
Ten minutes later, footsteps are audible in the hallway - though he knew the two of them were coming. Rose met Harkness trying to find his way back, and she’s escorting him, all the time thanking him again for finding her ring.
“Took your time,” he comments as they enter. “Come on if you’re coming.” He jumps down off the console platform, heading for the door. Rose runs to catch up with him, sliding her hand through his arm as he opens the door with his free hand.
“Guess I’ve got you to thank for the clothes, Doctor,” Harkness says, bringing up the rear. “Nice job sneaking them into the bedroom without me hearing you. I’m usually not that oblivious.”
Trained Time Agent, of course, plus a reasonably successful con-artist; he’d be difficult to sneak up on as a rule. Of course, what the lad’s not aware of is that on this ship there are other ways of achieving an objective such as leaving out clothing that Harkness will recognise as expensive and made of extremely high-quality materials.
The bloke does look good in it, he has to admit. But that’s not the point.
“Where is this?” Harkness asks as soon as they’re outside, in the quiet alley he’s very carefully tucked the TARDIS away in.
He turns and, very slightly, quirks one eyebrow in a challenging look. Let’s see how clever you really are.
The bloke starts tapping on that wrist device he wears. Vortex manipulator, must be - standard issue for Time Agents above a certain rank, so maybe he wasn’t lying about being a captain. Could have stolen it, but then those devices are coded to the genetic signature of their wearer, so he wouldn’t be able to use a stolen one. Has to be his own. The Doctor smiles. “Conclusions, Captain?”
“Early twenty-first century. Old continental Europe - no, one of the islands.” Harkness spins in a circle, studying the buildings, the sky, the rough tarmac beneath their feet. “Great Britain.” He sniffs. “Close to the coast.”
“That’s hardly difficult. Wind’s blowing in the perfect direction.”
“Cut out the willy-waving, you two.” Rose sounds impatient, and she’s rolling her eyes. “You promised me chips. An’ I want to go to an amusement arcade before we leave.”
“What you want to do that for?” He widens his eyes. “They’re full of slot machines fixed to make sure you lose your money.”
“Haven’t been in one since I was a kid and Mum and I went to Brighton for a day. We went to the arcade on the pier,” she says, leading the way out of the alley and apparently following her nose to head towards the sea. “I played the penny falls. It was brilliant.”
The Doctor glances behind to make sure that Harkness is following. He is, and he looks completely bemused. “What’s a penny falls?”
“Show you later,” Rose promises. “Fish an’ chips first. And we’re in Blackpool!” she exclaims. “We should go to the Pleasure Beach too.”
No chance. He draws the line at rickety twentieth-century rollercoasters and tacky sideshows. “Fish and chips. And ten minutes in one arcade,” he concedes. “Then we leave.”
He looks around, making eye contact with both of them to make sure they understand that he won’t be moved on that point. The wary, almost fearful look in Harkness’s eyes takes him by surprise. What’s the bloke afraid of?
***
Fish and chips. Brilliant.
It’s weeks since she’s had chips, and these - accompanied by mushy peas, bread and butter and a huge pot of tea - are the best she’s had in ages. The Doctor seems to be enjoying his as well. Only Jack seemed sceptical at first, and grumbled about the fat content in the oil once he tasted the fish. The Doctor just gave him one of his stupid humans expressions. “Gonna walk it off later. ‘Sides, what do you need to worry about fat for after all that exercise you got today?” He gave Jack a wide, triumphant smile.
Bugger. If the Doctor’s going to carry on like that, it’s going to be a bit uncomfortable around the TARDIS. Though Jack did ask to be dropped off, and the Doctor hasn’t said anything about what he intends to do about him. Maybe Jack won’t be around very long.
The jolt that thought causes her almost makes her choke on a chip. The Doctor leans over and slaps her between her shoulder-blades. “You all right?”
“Yeah.” She coughs a couple of times until her airway’s clear. “Went down the wrong way.”
Without a word, Jack gets up, walks to the counter and speaks to the server for a moment, returning with a glass of water which he passes to her. She takes a gulp. “Thanks.”
“Welcome.” He smiles, and warmth spreads through her, just like it does when the Doctor gives her one of his rare glowing smiles. Jack’s smile is different, but it still makes her feel like right now she’s the centre of his universe.
And that’s the problem, isn’t it? The thought of Jack leaving actually made her heart sink, instead of making her happy that it’ll be just her and the Doctor again, like she was when Adam got kicked out. Jack’s been around less than a day, and she’s already enjoying his company - even though she didn’t see that much of him.
It’s not just that he fancies her. Adam fancied her, and made clear that he was interested enough to take it further despite the Doctor’s forbidding glares. But almost as soon as he was inside the TARDIS she realised she had zero interest in him. Too self-centred, too much of a show-off. Too immature and in love with himself.
She might be able to apply the term show-off to Jack as well - though not today - but at least with him he’s got grounds. He doesn’t run away from danger, and he doesn’t avoid hard work. He might be in love with himself, or at least have a pretty healthy ego, but he’s not immature and he doesn’t ignore the people around him.
She likes him. It’s as simple as that.
After dinner, they wander along the sea-front. It’s early August, the Doctor tells her, though she’d have worked that out from the late-evening daylight. It’s too soon for the Illuminations, but there’s still plenty of atmosphere, from the neon of the shop and arcade fronts to the pier and the tower, and the lights and excitement of the Pleasure Beach to the south. And, of course, the sound of waves crashing against the sand. She’d pull off her trainers and run in and paddle, but she didn’t bring a towel and she’d rather not squelch for the rest of the evening.
“Come on, then!” The Doctor makes an impatient gesture. “You wanted an arcade. One over there looks a bit less tacky than the rest.”
“Can’t see the difference myself,” Jack mutters, just a little bit too loudly, and she elbows him. “Hey, what was that for?” he protests, but she catches the twitch of his lips and grins back. He returns her grin, eyes dancing.
Oh, yes, she likes him.
Inside the arcade, the noise is deafening: coins clattering in change machines, tinny electronic music from ancient fruit machines as they spin, and every so often a shrill bell as someone wins a prize. People chattering and shrieking, and snatches of music leaking from MP3 players with cheap earbuds.
The Doctor looks disgusted. Jack looks fascinated.
“Where’s this machine, then? Let’s get it over with.” Oh, yeah, the Doctor’s hating this.
She’s already located the penny falls, near the middle of the room. Inflation’s struck. It’s Tenpence Falls now.
Digging in her jeans pocket, she finds a fiver. “Need to get change.”
“Here.” Jack holds out his hand. “I’ll have a better chance of getting to the machine.” The place is crowded, and he’s taller and broader than her. He’s right; she gives him the money.
The Doctor scowls. “I’d’ve gone for you.”
She shrugs. “He offered.”
When Jack returns, she thinks for a moment that the Doctor’s actually going to count the silver coins Jack drops into her palms. She glares at him, then studies the layout of the coins on the platform, deciding where to drop her first coin.
She’s about to let it fall when Jack murmurs, “Not there.” She looks at him, questioning. He explains. “Look at the way they’re lying together at the bottom. There’s no way the ones on top will fall. Basic physics.”
He’s right. The Doctor agrees, too, she can tell, for all he’s pretending complete lack of interest.
“Where, then?”
Jack moves to the left, indicating a different slot. “Down here. You might not get anything with your first coin, but two or three should net you a nice reward if you get the timing right.”
He stands next to her, shielding her from other customers who push in to play the machine, or just shove past on their way to something else, and recommends the best moment to drop each coin. She’s the one who’s played this before, and she should be the expert, but it doesn’t take long to recognise that Jack’s got the machine, and the layout of the coins on the moving platforms, figured out. And he’s right. On the third coin, a waterfall of silver goes over the edge and down into the tray. She counts eighteen ten pence pieces.
“Here.” Dividing her prize in two, she gives Jack half. “You try it.”
“Oi! What about me?” the Doctor protests from behind her. She starts; she hadn’t realised he was still there. She’d thought he hadn’t followed them when they moved down the machine.
“Thought you weren’t interested?” But she gives him the rest of her winnings. And then wishes she hadn’t as he takes up position next to Jack, using the next slot along, and is clearly playing competitively. When one hand fumbles in his jacket pocket, she smacks him. “You can’t use the sonic here!”
“No-one would know,” he mutters.
“It’s cheating!” she tells him, under her breath. He gives what she can only call a sulky sigh and removes his hand from his pocket.
Blokes. She finds a space around the corner from the two of them and carries on playing. They can be as competitive as they want, but she’s got no intention of hanging around to watch.
***
It’s a long time since he’s done anything like this: kicking back and having fun just because he can. No looking over his shoulder for whoever’s out for revenge or wanting to arrest him, and no calculating the best escape-route from every angle. Just playing a silly game sliding coins down a chute.
For once, too, he’s barely thinking of the fact that this is money, and that other than the few coins in his hand and whatever he’s managing to win from the machine he hasn’t got a penny to his name. Not that the less than two pounds he has right now would get him anywhere if he needed it. He’s already seen how much a meal costs, and was just grateful that the Doctor had the means to pay for it.
Rose is loving this, grinning up at the Doctor every few minutes, tongue between her teeth, and crying out excitedly every time she wins a few coins. Oh, yeah, she’s really having a great time. That doesn’t really make any sense. Nineteen-year-old from the early twenty-first century... that was the start of the digital age, if he remembers his history, so surely she’d be more interested in portable computers and game consoles and MP3 players? Why is this kind of simple amusement so special to her?
But wait... she said she went on a day-trip with her mum as a kid, somewhere else where she played one of these machines. Sounded like she only did it once, too. So, a special memory from when she was a child? No mention of a father. And just one visit. Not a lot of money growing up? That would make sense.
And the Doctor knows this, which is why he’s indulging Rose despite having no interest in being here. That explains a lot - as well as showing him a side of the gruff, forbidding Time Lord he never expected.
Though the Doctor’s not exactly hating this. He’s sharing smiles with Rose now, then competing with her to see who can knock the most coins off the shelf and grumbling when she gets more than him. And all the time there’s joy and lightness in his eyes as he looks at her.
Does the Doctor even realise how much he’s giving away right now?
Jack looks away. If he’s sure of anything, it’s that the Doctor didn’t intend him to see that.
A few minutes later, when he’s given up playing and is just idly observing the other customers, his elbow’s jogged. “Ready to go, Jack?”
He turns to smile at Rose. “He had enough?”
“I have.” She shrugs. “Too noisy in here. ‘Bout time we got back.”
He nods, and falls into step behind the two of them, heading out of the arcade. Outside, it’s dark, and the streets are crowded, with too many people pushing past for him to walk beside the Doctor and Rose, so again he follows behind. It’s like working his way through an obstacle course, what with drunken groups staggering along and crashing into him, and couples stopping to kiss regardless of who’s heading in their direction.
When he finally manages to disentangle himself from the latest crowd of inebriated teenagers, the Doctor and Rose aren’t anywhere in sight.
Okay. They can’t have gone far. They wouldn’t have been able to walk much faster than he could. And anyway, he recognises this intersection. The restaurant where they had dinner is just up there, towards the town - and the alley where they left the TARDIS is off to the right. No problem.
He sets off at a jog, running into the cobblestoned street to get past the pedestrians blocking his path, ignoring the one or two cars coming in his direction and blaring horns at him.
Still no sign of his travelling companions, but the alley’s just here.
He jogs around the corner, feeling his stomach lighten with relief that he’s found his way back. Then he’s brought to a sudden, sickening halt.
“No,” he whispers, heart pounding, stomach sinking into his boots as bile rises in his throat.
The alley’s empty. The TARDIS has gone.
***
tbc in chapter 3: Drop-off Point
Author: wmr / wendymr
Characters: Ninth Doctor, Jack Harkness, Rose Tyler
Rated: PG13
Summary: He’s like a magnet. A gravity well, sucking in everything within his sphere of influence, drawing them to him whether they like it or not.
Written for space_monkey52 in return for an extremely generous donation to the Queensland flood appeal. Thank you SO much for your generosity. Many thanks also to dark_aegis for BRing. Sorry for the long delay between chapters; I forgot I was going to be away over Easter, and then I had to wait while I was upgraded to a new computer.
Chapter 1: Clean-up Duty
Chapter 2: Amusements
Rose adds a couple of final strokes of lipstick, then stretches her lips to check the effect in her mirror. The Doctor’s suggested going to Blackpool for fish and chips tonight, and her mouth’s already watering at the prospect.
A sharp tap at her door makes her turn. The Doctor’s standing in the open doorway, and Jack’s just visible behind him. “We’re going already?” she asks, surprised. She’d thought he meant another half-hour or so.
“Not yet.” The Doctor’s expression is forbidding, and she gets up to come towards him, giving him a questioning look. “Something you need to see.” He turns to Jack. “Show her.”
The Doctor steps into her room, and she can see Jack properly. “Doctor! You could at least have let him have a shower first!”
“Harkness,” the Doctor says, and that’s when she realises he’s furious.
Jack reaches into the pocket of his overalls, and she watches him, still baffled. Until he steps towards her, holding out a ring she recognises. It’s one the Doctor bought for her over a month ago - the first present he gave her, apart from her TARDIS key, and it’s devastated her that she lost it. She hasn’t even been able to tell him, and was dreading him asking why she hasn’t worn it in over a week.
“Jack, you found it!” She’d hug him, but the way he looks and smells right now... no. Definitely later, though. “Thank you! I never thought I’d see that again.”
“He didn’t find it, Rose. He was stealin’ it.”
She swings around to stare at the Doctor. “What? How? I lost it weeks ago.” How could Jack possibly have been stealing it?
Jack pushes the ring into her hand, then steps back - and that’s when she notices his eyes and the lines around his mouth. Resentment... and resignation. He doesn’t expect his side of this story to be believed.
“Jack,” she says quickly, loudly, before the Doctor can speak. “Where did you find it?”
He glances at the Doctor, but then straightens his shoulders. “I was cleaning out the drains and found it in a pile of sludge. Figured someone might want it back.”
That makes sense. “It must’ve fallen down the drain in the bathroom.” She nods towards the en-suite attached to her bedroom. “I would’ve taken it off to shower or wash my hands, so I probably left it next to the sink.”
Jack found it - and the Doctor’s calling him a thief. That’s just not fair.
The Doctor’s still glowering, and if she had to guess she’d say that Jack’s next stop is likely to be an ice-planet - or an air-lock. Not if she’s got anything to do with it.
Sod getting dirty. She flings her arms around Jack. “Thank you. I’ve been searching everywhere for this.”
He holds himself stiffly for a moment. “I’m filthy, Rose.”
“Don’t care.” She tightens her grip, then reaches up and presses a kiss to his cheek. He stinks, but it’s only dirt.
“Must matter a lot to you, huh?” He folds his arms around her, hugging her back.
“Yeah.” She steals a glance at the Doctor; his brows are drawn together. “Sentimental value.”
Jack releases her, and he’s finally - almost - smiling. “Glad I found it, then.”
“You’re honestly saying you were going to give it back?” There’s still suspicion in the Doctor’s tone, but he doesn’t sound as convinced as he was before.
“That would imply that I had taken it in the first place.” Jack’s words are clipped.
“You were putting it in your pocket,” the Doctor points out.
Jack’s sigh is impatient, and he sounds almost like the irresponsible criminal he claimed to be back at the Albion Hospital. “I needed somewhere safe to keep it while I finished the job you told me to do.”
The Doctor looks from Jack to Rose, and he’s clearly uncomfortable. “I didn’t even know you’d lost it.”
She swallows, looking down at the floor. “Didn’t want to tell you. I-”
“What?” His expression is appalled. “What did you think I’d do?”
Oh, bugger. Now he thinks she’s afraid of him, and she’s not. “I... just felt bad. I mean, you bought it for me an’ I didn’t want you to think I didn’t care enough to look after it.”
“Oh.” He’s not just surprised by what she’s said, that’s clear. He looks gobsmacked - and guilty. “So you weren’t stealin’ it,” he says to Jack - and there’s definitely a hint of guilt and embarrassment in his voice.
“No.” Jack’s response is firm and cold.
The Doctor doesn’t drop his gaze. “I was wrong. I apologise.”
There’s a pause, during which Jack says nothing, and Rose holds her breath. Is he actually going to refuse to accept the Doctor’s apology? But, finally, he nods. “Thank you.” He starts to turn, as if he’s leaving, but then changes his mind. “I’d like to be dropped off on Fy Ndu, please, if that’s all right with you.”
The Doctor’s holding himself rigid again, and his voice is no less stiff. “Talk about that later. You both need to get cleaned up, an’ then I promised Rose fish and chips.”
With that, he turns abruptly and marches from the room, brushing past Jack without stopping, and his footsteps echo loudly down the hall.
***
The shower in his room has eight jets and gives a damn good massage. Which is pretty useful given his neck and shoulders are full of knots from a day spent on his hands and knees scrubbing.
It’s a good twenty minutes before he stops smelling the dirt and stink that clung to him. How Rose could bring herself to hug him he has no idea.
She believed him. She didn’t even hesitate. Unlike the Doctor, who never thought for one second that his motives were pure.
To think that, earlier, he was regretting the circumstances in which he met the Doctor - and even starting to hope that it could be a few days before he got dropped off wherever the Doctor decided to leave him, so that he could make an attempt at changing that first impression.
If he could leave right now, he’d already be walking out the door.
Fish and chips, the Doctor said. Classic twentieth-century English comfort food, if he recalls his early modern history and culture lectures properly. So too primitive a time for his needs. No likelihood of catching a lift on a spaceship, let alone a time-ship, wherever the Doctor’s headed this evening.
Though there’s always the possibility that the Doctor - being well aware of this fact - planned this as his dropping-off point.
Maybe he should pretend to be tired. Shouldn’t be too hard after all the work he’s done today, and his lack of sleep last night. He could probably fall asleep in a few minutes if he lay down. Could be a good option for a couple of reasons, the second being that he’s not particularly anxious to see the Doctor again after what happened.
Towelling himself off in front of the frankly huge and flatteringly well-lit mirror, he considers his options. It occurs to him then that the Doctor might even be expecting him to stay behind. In fact, was he even invited?
He runs over the conversation - no, the Doctor’s pronouncement - in his head again. I promised Rose fish and chips. Not a word about himself in that statement. So it’s entirely possible that he’s neither invited nor welcome to come.
Well, that suits him.
A sardonic voice in his head says Thought you were a coward.
He curses.
Why the hell should he even care what the Doctor thinks? But it seems he does, like it or not. And not because he’s a Time Lord. Because there’s just something about him... He’s like a magnet. A gravity well, sucking in everything within his sphere of influence, drawing them to him whether they like it or not.
How would the Doctor feel in his place, being accused of something he didn’t do on completely circumstantial evidence and without even being asked? If he’d been in the Doctor’s place, finding a guy tucking a piece of jewellery away in his clothes...
A valuable piece, with a rare stone that’s only available in limited quantities on one planet in the universe. And being hidden away by someone he barely knew, but who’d outed himself as a conman and a thief and laughed about it, and had almost wiped out the human race.
Oh, yeah. He’d have assumed exactly what the Doctor did. No reason to think anything different.
Okay. He’ll go with them for fish and chips tonight, invited or not - after a day of physical work, he’s definitely ready for real carbohydrates and fat. As long as he sticks like glue to the two of them, he can’t be left behind. And then, for as long as he’s got left on board the Doctor’s ship, he’s going to show this mythical man that he’s not completely a waste of space; that he can be bigger on the inside.
***
He jumped to conclusions, and now he’s been well and truly wrong-footed. Put in the position of owing Harkness the con-man an apology.
Rose would tell him it’s his own fault, and she’d be right.
So. Harkness’s innocence of the charge of theft - in this case, anyway - together with the way he’s worked all day today means that he owes it to the bloke at least to consider his request to be taken to a destination of his choice. Well, maybe. He’s not quite ready to decide what’s to be done with the Captain yet.
So in the meantime, he can be charitable. Friendly, even. Helps to keep blokes like Harkness off balance. You never know what they’ll reveal.
Ten minutes later, footsteps are audible in the hallway - though he knew the two of them were coming. Rose met Harkness trying to find his way back, and she’s escorting him, all the time thanking him again for finding her ring.
“Took your time,” he comments as they enter. “Come on if you’re coming.” He jumps down off the console platform, heading for the door. Rose runs to catch up with him, sliding her hand through his arm as he opens the door with his free hand.
“Guess I’ve got you to thank for the clothes, Doctor,” Harkness says, bringing up the rear. “Nice job sneaking them into the bedroom without me hearing you. I’m usually not that oblivious.”
Trained Time Agent, of course, plus a reasonably successful con-artist; he’d be difficult to sneak up on as a rule. Of course, what the lad’s not aware of is that on this ship there are other ways of achieving an objective such as leaving out clothing that Harkness will recognise as expensive and made of extremely high-quality materials.
The bloke does look good in it, he has to admit. But that’s not the point.
“Where is this?” Harkness asks as soon as they’re outside, in the quiet alley he’s very carefully tucked the TARDIS away in.
He turns and, very slightly, quirks one eyebrow in a challenging look. Let’s see how clever you really are.
The bloke starts tapping on that wrist device he wears. Vortex manipulator, must be - standard issue for Time Agents above a certain rank, so maybe he wasn’t lying about being a captain. Could have stolen it, but then those devices are coded to the genetic signature of their wearer, so he wouldn’t be able to use a stolen one. Has to be his own. The Doctor smiles. “Conclusions, Captain?”
“Early twenty-first century. Old continental Europe - no, one of the islands.” Harkness spins in a circle, studying the buildings, the sky, the rough tarmac beneath their feet. “Great Britain.” He sniffs. “Close to the coast.”
“That’s hardly difficult. Wind’s blowing in the perfect direction.”
“Cut out the willy-waving, you two.” Rose sounds impatient, and she’s rolling her eyes. “You promised me chips. An’ I want to go to an amusement arcade before we leave.”
“What you want to do that for?” He widens his eyes. “They’re full of slot machines fixed to make sure you lose your money.”
“Haven’t been in one since I was a kid and Mum and I went to Brighton for a day. We went to the arcade on the pier,” she says, leading the way out of the alley and apparently following her nose to head towards the sea. “I played the penny falls. It was brilliant.”
The Doctor glances behind to make sure that Harkness is following. He is, and he looks completely bemused. “What’s a penny falls?”
“Show you later,” Rose promises. “Fish an’ chips first. And we’re in Blackpool!” she exclaims. “We should go to the Pleasure Beach too.”
No chance. He draws the line at rickety twentieth-century rollercoasters and tacky sideshows. “Fish and chips. And ten minutes in one arcade,” he concedes. “Then we leave.”
He looks around, making eye contact with both of them to make sure they understand that he won’t be moved on that point. The wary, almost fearful look in Harkness’s eyes takes him by surprise. What’s the bloke afraid of?
***
Fish and chips. Brilliant.
It’s weeks since she’s had chips, and these - accompanied by mushy peas, bread and butter and a huge pot of tea - are the best she’s had in ages. The Doctor seems to be enjoying his as well. Only Jack seemed sceptical at first, and grumbled about the fat content in the oil once he tasted the fish. The Doctor just gave him one of his stupid humans expressions. “Gonna walk it off later. ‘Sides, what do you need to worry about fat for after all that exercise you got today?” He gave Jack a wide, triumphant smile.
Bugger. If the Doctor’s going to carry on like that, it’s going to be a bit uncomfortable around the TARDIS. Though Jack did ask to be dropped off, and the Doctor hasn’t said anything about what he intends to do about him. Maybe Jack won’t be around very long.
The jolt that thought causes her almost makes her choke on a chip. The Doctor leans over and slaps her between her shoulder-blades. “You all right?”
“Yeah.” She coughs a couple of times until her airway’s clear. “Went down the wrong way.”
Without a word, Jack gets up, walks to the counter and speaks to the server for a moment, returning with a glass of water which he passes to her. She takes a gulp. “Thanks.”
“Welcome.” He smiles, and warmth spreads through her, just like it does when the Doctor gives her one of his rare glowing smiles. Jack’s smile is different, but it still makes her feel like right now she’s the centre of his universe.
And that’s the problem, isn’t it? The thought of Jack leaving actually made her heart sink, instead of making her happy that it’ll be just her and the Doctor again, like she was when Adam got kicked out. Jack’s been around less than a day, and she’s already enjoying his company - even though she didn’t see that much of him.
It’s not just that he fancies her. Adam fancied her, and made clear that he was interested enough to take it further despite the Doctor’s forbidding glares. But almost as soon as he was inside the TARDIS she realised she had zero interest in him. Too self-centred, too much of a show-off. Too immature and in love with himself.
She might be able to apply the term show-off to Jack as well - though not today - but at least with him he’s got grounds. He doesn’t run away from danger, and he doesn’t avoid hard work. He might be in love with himself, or at least have a pretty healthy ego, but he’s not immature and he doesn’t ignore the people around him.
She likes him. It’s as simple as that.
After dinner, they wander along the sea-front. It’s early August, the Doctor tells her, though she’d have worked that out from the late-evening daylight. It’s too soon for the Illuminations, but there’s still plenty of atmosphere, from the neon of the shop and arcade fronts to the pier and the tower, and the lights and excitement of the Pleasure Beach to the south. And, of course, the sound of waves crashing against the sand. She’d pull off her trainers and run in and paddle, but she didn’t bring a towel and she’d rather not squelch for the rest of the evening.
“Come on, then!” The Doctor makes an impatient gesture. “You wanted an arcade. One over there looks a bit less tacky than the rest.”
“Can’t see the difference myself,” Jack mutters, just a little bit too loudly, and she elbows him. “Hey, what was that for?” he protests, but she catches the twitch of his lips and grins back. He returns her grin, eyes dancing.
Oh, yes, she likes him.
Inside the arcade, the noise is deafening: coins clattering in change machines, tinny electronic music from ancient fruit machines as they spin, and every so often a shrill bell as someone wins a prize. People chattering and shrieking, and snatches of music leaking from MP3 players with cheap earbuds.
The Doctor looks disgusted. Jack looks fascinated.
“Where’s this machine, then? Let’s get it over with.” Oh, yeah, the Doctor’s hating this.
She’s already located the penny falls, near the middle of the room. Inflation’s struck. It’s Tenpence Falls now.
Digging in her jeans pocket, she finds a fiver. “Need to get change.”
“Here.” Jack holds out his hand. “I’ll have a better chance of getting to the machine.” The place is crowded, and he’s taller and broader than her. He’s right; she gives him the money.
The Doctor scowls. “I’d’ve gone for you.”
She shrugs. “He offered.”
When Jack returns, she thinks for a moment that the Doctor’s actually going to count the silver coins Jack drops into her palms. She glares at him, then studies the layout of the coins on the platform, deciding where to drop her first coin.
She’s about to let it fall when Jack murmurs, “Not there.” She looks at him, questioning. He explains. “Look at the way they’re lying together at the bottom. There’s no way the ones on top will fall. Basic physics.”
He’s right. The Doctor agrees, too, she can tell, for all he’s pretending complete lack of interest.
“Where, then?”
Jack moves to the left, indicating a different slot. “Down here. You might not get anything with your first coin, but two or three should net you a nice reward if you get the timing right.”
He stands next to her, shielding her from other customers who push in to play the machine, or just shove past on their way to something else, and recommends the best moment to drop each coin. She’s the one who’s played this before, and she should be the expert, but it doesn’t take long to recognise that Jack’s got the machine, and the layout of the coins on the moving platforms, figured out. And he’s right. On the third coin, a waterfall of silver goes over the edge and down into the tray. She counts eighteen ten pence pieces.
“Here.” Dividing her prize in two, she gives Jack half. “You try it.”
“Oi! What about me?” the Doctor protests from behind her. She starts; she hadn’t realised he was still there. She’d thought he hadn’t followed them when they moved down the machine.
“Thought you weren’t interested?” But she gives him the rest of her winnings. And then wishes she hadn’t as he takes up position next to Jack, using the next slot along, and is clearly playing competitively. When one hand fumbles in his jacket pocket, she smacks him. “You can’t use the sonic here!”
“No-one would know,” he mutters.
“It’s cheating!” she tells him, under her breath. He gives what she can only call a sulky sigh and removes his hand from his pocket.
Blokes. She finds a space around the corner from the two of them and carries on playing. They can be as competitive as they want, but she’s got no intention of hanging around to watch.
***
It’s a long time since he’s done anything like this: kicking back and having fun just because he can. No looking over his shoulder for whoever’s out for revenge or wanting to arrest him, and no calculating the best escape-route from every angle. Just playing a silly game sliding coins down a chute.
For once, too, he’s barely thinking of the fact that this is money, and that other than the few coins in his hand and whatever he’s managing to win from the machine he hasn’t got a penny to his name. Not that the less than two pounds he has right now would get him anywhere if he needed it. He’s already seen how much a meal costs, and was just grateful that the Doctor had the means to pay for it.
Rose is loving this, grinning up at the Doctor every few minutes, tongue between her teeth, and crying out excitedly every time she wins a few coins. Oh, yeah, she’s really having a great time. That doesn’t really make any sense. Nineteen-year-old from the early twenty-first century... that was the start of the digital age, if he remembers his history, so surely she’d be more interested in portable computers and game consoles and MP3 players? Why is this kind of simple amusement so special to her?
But wait... she said she went on a day-trip with her mum as a kid, somewhere else where she played one of these machines. Sounded like she only did it once, too. So, a special memory from when she was a child? No mention of a father. And just one visit. Not a lot of money growing up? That would make sense.
And the Doctor knows this, which is why he’s indulging Rose despite having no interest in being here. That explains a lot - as well as showing him a side of the gruff, forbidding Time Lord he never expected.
Though the Doctor’s not exactly hating this. He’s sharing smiles with Rose now, then competing with her to see who can knock the most coins off the shelf and grumbling when she gets more than him. And all the time there’s joy and lightness in his eyes as he looks at her.
Does the Doctor even realise how much he’s giving away right now?
Jack looks away. If he’s sure of anything, it’s that the Doctor didn’t intend him to see that.
A few minutes later, when he’s given up playing and is just idly observing the other customers, his elbow’s jogged. “Ready to go, Jack?”
He turns to smile at Rose. “He had enough?”
“I have.” She shrugs. “Too noisy in here. ‘Bout time we got back.”
He nods, and falls into step behind the two of them, heading out of the arcade. Outside, it’s dark, and the streets are crowded, with too many people pushing past for him to walk beside the Doctor and Rose, so again he follows behind. It’s like working his way through an obstacle course, what with drunken groups staggering along and crashing into him, and couples stopping to kiss regardless of who’s heading in their direction.
When he finally manages to disentangle himself from the latest crowd of inebriated teenagers, the Doctor and Rose aren’t anywhere in sight.
Okay. They can’t have gone far. They wouldn’t have been able to walk much faster than he could. And anyway, he recognises this intersection. The restaurant where they had dinner is just up there, towards the town - and the alley where they left the TARDIS is off to the right. No problem.
He sets off at a jog, running into the cobblestoned street to get past the pedestrians blocking his path, ignoring the one or two cars coming in his direction and blaring horns at him.
Still no sign of his travelling companions, but the alley’s just here.
He jogs around the corner, feeling his stomach lighten with relief that he’s found his way back. Then he’s brought to a sudden, sickening halt.
“No,” he whispers, heart pounding, stomach sinking into his boots as bile rises in his throat.
The alley’s empty. The TARDIS has gone.
***
tbc in chapter 3: Drop-off Point