Dimensionally Transcendent 4/10?
Story: Dimensionally Transcendent
Author: wmr
wendymr
Characters: Ninth Doctor, Rose Tyler, Jack Harkness
Rated: PG13
Disclaimer: Only the missing time between The Doctor Dances and Boom Town belongs to me (I wish)
Summary: The Doctor said he'd better be bigger on the inside. But is he?
With huge thanks again to
ponygirl72 for her continuing and invaluable help, and an absolutely enormous debt of gratitude to
dark_aegis for reading draft after draft and encouraging me when I told her it was crap.
Chapter 1: Stray l Chapter 2: Tea and Sympathy l Chapter 3: Out of Time
Chapter 4: Learning to Trust
Men and their games. Jack’s on his own with this one; whatever the Doctor’s up to here, Jack just better be clever enough - and not too much of an idiot - to handle it. If she’s right about him, even despite the bad judgement he showed after she and the Doctor told him they weren’t Time Agents, he’ll cope.
The Doctor could well have a good reason for wanting the passwords. On the other hand, he could just be pushing Jack, seeing how far he’s willing to go to betray the people he used to work for - whether he’s just another Adam, out for his own self-interest. Though he’s got to know that’s not the case. Today, Jack would have sacrificed himself to save the two of them.
She knows the second Jack’s made his decision, even before he moves closer to the Doctor at the console.
Gesturing to the screen, Jack says, “The most common passwords were always hexadecimal format with triple-DES encryption. So there’re three parts to the code, and the third is hidden. Each key is 32 characters. Anything from zero to nine and A to F. Beyond that, they sometimes used RSA algorithms. No standard format there - could be any number of characters or keystrokes.”
The Doctor nods once. “Okay. Like I said, predictable.” There’s a grin on his face that she knows very well: the look of satisfaction at being right once again.
“How are you going to get in?”
“The TARDIS can calculate about two million combinations a second. Even faster than a Dalek.” She winces at the memory of the Dalek breaking Van Statten’s supposedly uncrackable security system. “And it overrides all lockout systems.”
Jack, of course, has no unpleasant memories here. He just nods. “Okay. But what do you want to get into the Time Agency’s computer for?”
“I’m gonna delete all criminal records relating to your biosignature. I don’t want anything like today to happen again.”
What? He’s doing that? That’s got to be a good sign. The Doctor wouldn’t have done anything like that for Adam. It has to mean he’s starting to accept that Jack’s more than just a conman.
“You’re kidding.” Jack’s tone is flat, disbelieving.
“See for yourself.” The Doctor types a few commands, then steps back from the console, waving elaborately.
Jack looks, then releases a low whistle. “Thank you.” The stiffness she’s noticed in his body ever since the Doctor asked him for the passwords has disappeared; there’s relief instead, but without the self-confidence she saw when they rescued him from his ship. She wonders now how much of that was bravado.
The Doctor shrugs. “Like I said, I don’t want you causing any more trouble.” The words are dismissive, but the Doctor’s tone isn’t. He’s definitely thawing.
And an idea occurs to her. “If you’re in the Time Agency’s computers, can you find Jack’s memories?”
Jack’s head shoots up again, and there’s a flash of hope in his eyes. “Can you?”
The Doctor shakes his head, just once. “Nope. Whatever they did with his memories - and there might not even be any record - they won’t be on a computer like this. Not possible.”
He sounds completely certain, and she knows better than to question him. Jack looks as if he’s going to argue at first, but after a few seconds he nods. “Hey, at least I don’t have to watch my back any more. That’s worth a lot. Thanks, Doctor.”
Jack sticks out his hand, as if to shake the Doctor’s, before he hesitates and looks down at the bandages. “Damn. Keep forgetting.”
The Doctor’s hand locks around Jack’s elbow, and she sees, suddenly, what he’s noticed. Parts of the orange bandage are flecked with crimson. “Med-lab. Now.”
***
“You could have held that over my head. Used it to guarantee my good behaviour or something. Keep my nose clean, you’ll wipe my record.”
Something flashes briefly in the Doctor’s eyes as he cleans Jack’s hand. “You really think Rose would let me do that?”
It has nothing to do with Rose. He knows that without even having to think about it. Rose wouldn’t even have needed to know about it. The Doctor wouldn’t let himself do it.
Unbelievable. After all this time, all the betrayals, he’s finally met someone who’s going to treat him fairly. And he’d begun by trying to con the guy.
He’s still marvelling over that the next morning after the Doctor’s removed his bandages and his hands are as good as new. Incredible. Forty-eight hours ago, he was in 1941, killing time by flirting with Algy while he waited for his marks to catch up with him. Thirty-six hours ago, he almost wiped out the human race. And now he’s been given the chance to make a new start, to become an honest man again, and to travel with a Time Lord.
It’s a chance he’s not going to muck up. No way.
Already, he’s seen one way he can make himself useful. Rose. She’s clearly had no self-defence training at all, and one of these days that’s going to be a problem. That move of hers against the Time Agent was a brave attempt, but it was sheer luck that she hit her target. If she’d been fighting him, he’d have had her overpowered and on the ground before she knew what had happened.
“About Rose,” he says as the Doctor finishes examining his arms. “Don’t you worry about her?”
The Doctor gives him a narrow-eyed look. “With blokes like you around, you have to ask?”
He chokes back a sigh. “That’s not what I mean. She’s not a pro at this, Doctor. Not like you are. Not like me - I mean, whatever you think of me, at least I’ve had training. I know what I’m getting into, and I can defend myself. She doesn’t - she can’t.”
The Doctor turns away, putting equipment back into drawers and on shelves. “Rose can defend herself better than you think. When I first met her, she saved my life - swung in on a chain, knocked a couple of Autons out of the way an’ saved the day. Saved both our lives, an’ the Prime Minister’s, in an explosion, too.” There’s pride in his voice. Not surprising, but he’s completely missing the point.
“Still, wouldn’t hurt if she learned a bit about self-defence,” he suggests, testing the water.
“Told you. Rose can look after herself. An’ I’m around to look after her too.” The Doctor’s tone makes clear that this isn’t a subject for discussion.
He could remind the Doctor about barrage balloons and Nazi bombers, but there’s no point. It’s not as if he needs the Doctor’s permission to give Rose a few lessons in taking care of herself, after all.
“I’m only gonna say this once, Captain,” the Doctor continues, a steel note in his voice. “You are not going to teach Rose to use a gun. In my experience - and, trust me, I’m a lot older than you even imagine - people like you are far too quick to resort to weapons.”
He shrugs, swinging his legs off the treatment-couch and onto the floor. “No argument here. Guns have their uses, but if that’s your only strategy for self-defence you’ve already lost.”
His host just grunts. But nothing further is said either for or against him giving Rose some tips on taking care of herself. As far as he’s concerned, that’s all he needs.
An opportunity arises a day or two later, when the Doctor tells the two of them to amuse themselves for a while as he needs to do some maintenance. He won’t say what’s wrong, and Jack’s offer to help is dismissed with a look that says what would you know about Time Lord technology?
Not a lot, of course, though he wouldn’t mind learning. Now’s obviously not going to be his chance, though; the Doctor’s got a long way to go before he’ll trust that the conman’s reformed. Still, Jack can’t resist one comment before he follows Rose out of the console room. “Not that I know anything, but it sounds to me like her stabilisers could use some lubrication.”
Maybe it’s his imagination, but does the steady hum of the TARDIS engines change pitch? At the same time, the Doctor gives him a suspicious look. He just shrugs, grins and strides ahead to catch up with Rose.
“So, the TARDIS. Sentient ship, yeah?” He’s come across a sentient ship once before, though that was nothing like this. The TARDIS has to be alive, though. It’s the only explanation for things he’s noticed, like rooms moving, dimensions altering (already his bed’s expanded in size, giving him much more room to stretch out - or enjoy recreational activities, assuming either of his travelling companions ever show willing), and the sense of a continuous... presence... in his head. Well, either that or it’s the Doctor. Time Lords, so the legends say, are telepathic, after all. And he absolutely wouldn’t put it past the Doctor to psych him out just for kicks.
Rose nods. “Was a bit of a shock when the Doctor explained it to me. Gets inside your head, he says. I couldn’t understand how all the aliens I met spoke English. The TARDIS translates automatically.”
“Useful. Could’ve used that instead of the software on my wristcom.” He taps at it.
“Oh?”
“Yeah.” He pulls a face. “Time Agency issue. Supposedly the best in the universe, but...” He shakes his head, pulling a face. “Not gonna forget in a hurry the time I asked a Conzincheala ‘your place or mine?’ and he thought I was telling him to go screw himself.”
Rose’s laugh is completely uninhibited, and his body’s instantaneous reaction takes him aback. Sure, she’s attractive, and if there hadn’t been time-sensitivity on the con he’d have had her in his bed within half an hour of meeting her. But they’re not even touching now, and he’s been more than effectively told that she’s off-limits. Normally that’d be plenty to quell his libido.
God, he needs to get laid.
But not right now. “So, there anything like a gym around here?”
“Yeah. Pretty well-equipped, actually.” She stops walking and turns to look at him, eying the biceps and chest muscles he knows are very well-displayed in the form-fitting T-shirt he chose today. “You want to work out?”
“Actually, I thought maybe you’d like to try out some stuff.” At her arch look - ah, so the pretty Rose still enjoys flirting, even on her home territory, with the Doctor not far away? Definitely promising. - he explains. “That was a nice move you made yesterday, but there’re less predictable strategies I could teach you. Ever studied martial arts? Self-defence?”
“Not really. Offering to teach me?” The way she curls her tongue around her cheek... oh, she knows what she’s doing. And if the Doctor seriously believes that she’s an innocent too easily corrupted by the likes of him, the man’s deluded.
“Well, unless you’re up for another type of full-body contact...” He winks at her, and she laughs again before taking his hand and leading him along more corridors than he could have imagined this ship would contain. Disappointingly, their destination actually is the gym and not her bedroom. Ah well. He’ll survive.
***
Jack’s surprisingly businesslike once they’re in the gym. She half-suspected he was going to use teaching her as an excuse to feel her up and crank up his flirting a few notches, but instead there’s not a trace of teasing or flirtation. His hands touch her only to demonstrate, and don’t linger a second longer than necessary.
He’s a good teacher, though. He shows her how to feint, block, attack, get past her opponent’s guard and even take down a man twice her weight. He doesn’t give her any concessions, taking her down to the mat time and time again as she makes mistakes or fails to block his attack. But he’s also quick with praise when she gets it right, especially when she manages to knock him to the floor.
He teaches her to use her opponent’s strength and momentum against him, and that’s something she can’t help feeling would have been really useful - even before she started travelling with the Doctor. He tells her, too, that he can vary his lessons to take into account non-humanoid aliens, if she wants. And she does - while the danger’s part of the thrill of travelling with the Doctor, staying alive and not being a liability are definitely high on her priority list, as is doing her best to keep the Doctor alive as well. Jack too, now, of course.
The third time she takes him down, he stays on the floor and stretches a hand up to her.
“Yeah, right.” She laughs. “Like I can pull you up.”
He waggles his hand again, and she shakes her head but grabs it. The next thing she knows, he’s pulling her down, and she tumbles on top of him as he laughs triumphantly.
And now the serious trainer’s vanished completely. There’s a glint in Jack’s eye as he grins at her, and her thigh against his hip tells her that he’s not been as completely unaffected by their close contact as he’s let her believe.
Then the grin’s gone, his fingers are trailing lightly and, oh, so tantalisingly across her hip and he’s staring at her, his gaze fixed on... oh, god, on her lips. And she can’t help it; before she knows it she’s staring at his lips as well, her heart thudding and her mind fixated on just one thought: what would his mouth feel like on hers?
Good. Bloody good, she’s very sure of that. And right here, right now there’s nothing she wants more than to get tangible proof of that - to finish what they started when the two of them danced together on top of his spaceship.
All it’d take is one little move on her part. If she just dipped her head a few inches... But what stops her is one thing; just one little memory.
You sure this is the best time to be coming on to me?
He stopped so easily before, then got right back into it when she made clear it was just a token protest - but then the charm switched off once more, so easily, just like the flip of a switch, when he realised his time was running out and she wasn’t getting into the negotiation. On, off, on, off; Jack’s a practised seducer and none of this means a thing to him. He’d happily kiss her right now, of that she’s got no doubt. He’d shag her, too, and it’d probably even be the best sex of her life - but it’s not worth being no more than a notch on his bedpost.
She slides off him and scrambles to her feet, ignoring his soft laughter, and tries to tell herself that it’s self-preservation, not cowardice, that prompts her withdrawal.
Waggling her fingers at him, she heads for the door. “I need a shower. See ya later!”
He’s still laughing as she closes the gym door behind her.
***
He finishes cleaning the stabilisers, then oils them thoroughly, rolling his eyes as he finishes. Just a lucky guess, that’s all.
And so the new passenger’s teaching Rose about self-defence. Not a bad idea, really. It’s something he should have done himself, not that he has the patience. Or the skill, really, in this regeneration. Now, if he was still in his third body - oh, that Venusian aikido came in handy a time or two. Now, though, athletic as this body is, it seems to lack the co-ordination he had then, even if he wasn’t as physically fit.
Jack’s making himself useful. Good. Means he wasn’t mistaken in deciding that the brash young Time Agent turned conman has the potential to be much more than he was.
“How’s it going, Doctor?”
“Ow!” The unexpected voice has taken him by surprise. The brash young human’s managed to sneak up on him, and he’s jerked his head up reflexively and hit it on the underside of the console. Sliding out from beneath the wiring and supports, he glares at Jack. “Give me a little warning next time, will you?”
“Sorry.” Jack comes closer. “Didn’t know you didn’t hear me coming.”
He twists his body to reach for a spanner. “Catch.” Jack does, surprisingly well. “You were right about the stabilisers. Let’s see if it was just a fluke.”
Immediately, Jack bounds closer still. “What do you need me to do?”
Disgustingly enthusiastic - but he gets points for not crowing about being right. “Connectors in there need tightening.”
With a nod, Jack drops down and into the indicated space under the grating, immediately getting to work. More points, the Doctor allows grudgingly, for the lack of inane chatter.
“Where’s Rose?” Strange she hasn’t appeared. Did the two of them fight over something? They better not be turning his ship into a domestic battleground and expecting him to sort it out.
“Went to take a shower.” Jack’s voice is muffled and barely audible over the sound of bolts being tightened. “She had quite a workout.”
“Right. Saw you were giving her lessons.” No harm letting Jack know there’s not a lot goes on in his ship that he doesn’t know about.
“She’s a fast learner.” Anything else Jack might have said is lost in a sudden surprised grunt.
“What’s up?”
“My own fault - turned a connector the wrong way and got sprayed with oil.”
He leans over, grabs a rag and throws it down. “Might’ve been the TARDIS. She likes to play tricks sometimes.”
He can hear an affectionate smile in Jack’s voice as he answers. “Nah, you wouldn’t do that, would you? Beautiful lady like you, you’d never be so rude.”
And just like that the human passes another test. When he invited Jack to take a closer look at the TARDIS mechanics, he was just waiting for the bloke to show contempt or ridicule at the lack of fancy electronics or the type of tech he’d have had on his Time Agent ship or the stolen, invisible Chula spaceship. Others - including other Time Lords - have laughed at the make-do maintenance he’s had to do over the centuries to keep an obsolete, ancient ship alive and running: the paper-clips, string and sealing wax and even an old bicycle pump that he’s adapted to his purposes. But not Jack. Instead, he’s clearly fascinated, utterly won over.
Smothering a grin, the Doctor says blandly, “Stop flirting with my ship, Captain.”
A burst of laughter comes from under the grating. “How can I help it? She’s gorgeous, Doctor. Utterly irresistible.”
And he is so not going to go there.
Rose still isn’t back, so he takes advantage of an opportunity to indulge his curiosity. “They wipe people’s memories a lot, do they, the Time Agency?”
It’s actually to his discredit that he doesn’t know a lot about the Agency. Meddling amateurs, the Time Lords had considered them, though all but the loftiest in the Citadel had to admit that they were sometimes useful. Brave, too; many Time Agents sacrificed their lives fighting Daleks in the battles that preceded the Time War.
“Not often to serving Time Agents - at least, that I know of.”
“Oh?” He tweaks a setting on the console. Yes, that’s better; smoother pitch. “Non-serving agents?”
“Yeah, well, that’s something everyone understands when they’re recruited. The Agency’s not just a career, it’s a lifetime commitment. You want to quit, you get your memory replaced and a completely different identity.”
“Replaced?”
“Yeah, you get false memories implanted. I mean, you spend, say, fifteen years as an agent, then you want out, you’re not twenty-two any more, right? So something has to replace those years. They get memories of an ordinary life, that’s all.”
Expedient, even if not something he approves of. “And you? You didn’t ask to leave, did you?”
“Like hell!” But then Jack blows out a breath. “I don’t remember what happened. But I know I didn’t.”
“But two years, you said. Not your whole Agency career. And no-one told you why?” Before Jack can answer, he adds, “How do you even know it was two years? You’re a time-traveller. Could’ve been more. Or less.” If anything at all - anything more than a really bad hangover.
Jack hoists himself up from the grating. One side of his face is smeared with oil, and his hair is untidy. Nothing like his usual cover-model appearance, and he looks far better for it. “Genetic age-monitoring. We all have ‘em where I come from. I know exactly when I was born and how old I am, and it can’t be tampered with. I joined the Agency when I was twenty-two, and I remember ten years of service. Woke up that day, knew I was thirty-four. Two years unaccounted for. What would you think, Doctor?”
He leans against the console, looking down at Jack, who’s sitting on the edge of the grating, and shrugs. “Accident? Amnesia?”
“You’d think,” Jack agrees, and anger crosses his face. His eyes are bleak. “I was in an Agency safe house. No memory of getting there, or why I was there. So I went to find the medic. He didn’t even look me over - just told me there was nothing wrong. I was running all over the place, trying to find out what the hell was going on, when a guy I knew slightly, but who seemed to know me a whole lot better, pulled me aside and told me I’d been through the memory-wiping suite. He didn’t know why, or if he did he wasn’t saying. I got the hell out of there and went to see my CO. He wouldn’t tell me what was going on, either, but he didn’t deny they’d taken my memories. That’s when I quit. Found out later they’d declared me a criminal, too.”
“That’s just wrong.” It is. No-one, no organisation, should take upon themselves the power to do that to people. Not without any sort of due process or appeal - and even then it’s a terrible thing to do.
“So, we gonna stop it, then?” Rose is lounging in the doorway; neither of them noticed her arrive.
“No.” She looks indignant, about to protest, so he pre-empts her. “Can’t interfere. Tell you what we are going to do, though.”
“What?” Jack sounds surprised, almost suspicious.
He lets a slow grin curve over his face. This is a decision he made almost from the moment Jack first told the two of them about his missing memories, but he’s only now resolved to act on it. “Gonna get your two years back, that’s what.”
***
That’s all the Doctor will say on the subject. No comment on how he plans to do it, or when, or - most intriguing of all - why. Why would someone who has no reason to like him or care what happens to him want to help him? And not just by saving his life or offering him a temporary home, but by undoing the worst thing that’s happened to him?
“It’s probably not you at all,” Rose says casually a couple of days later as he continues her lessons. “It’s just the way he is. He’s the Doctor, an’ it’s what he does. If he thinks something’s wrong, then he tries to put it right. Unless it involves changing history in some way that’s gonna cause a paradox.”
“Of course,” he agrees, sidestepping the little manoeuvre she’s trying to make that would have had him flat on his back had it worked. He hooks his arm around her neck from behind and proceeds to teach her how to get out of that. “He’s a Time Lord,” he adds, as she successfully escapes. “I can see him putting things right where history’s gone wrong or whatever. But this isn’t history. It’s just me, and he doesn’t even like me.”
She laughs at that. “He likes you. You wouldn’t be here if he didn’t. He’d have dumped you back in 1941, or taken you back wherever he thinks you’re supposed to be. He’s very fussy about who’s allowed in his ship.”
Like that’s a surprise. As for the Doctor liking him, Rose really doesn’t know him too well, does she? Bit of a surprise, that - but then, he figured out a while back that she’s a lot more naïve than she’d like him to believe.
“Don’t let him intimidate you,” Rose says, grabbing a towel and patting the back of her neck. “One minute he can be furious as all the hounds of hell, and the next he’s laughing with you. You just have to learn to read him. And don’t let him get away with it when he’s being unfair.”
“Nah, I’m not intimidated.” Well, only by what he is. Not by the guy himself. “There is something that intrigues me, though. All those cracks of his about humans - what’s he doing travelling with two of them?” Well, aside from the fact that he’s the only Time Lord left.
“Yeah, I know.” Rose rolls her eyes, sinking down to sit cross-legged on the mat. “Thing is, for all his smart-alec cracks about humans, he loves Earth an’ us. Visits every chance he gets, an’ he’s saved the planet more times than anyone will ever know. ‘S not just Earth, though. Everywhere he goes, he ends up helping someone. He gets interested in people, wants to know about their lives. They can be the most ordinary people around, they’ll never amount to anything, but he cares about them. The more ordinary the better, really.”
That doesn’t really sound like anything he’s ever heard about Time Lords. Overseeing the universe without getting involved, that’s what the legends say. But Rose has been with the Doctor for six months, she told him. So she’d know.
“Guess I’ve seen that. He didn’t have to save me, and I saw how everyone there, even the little boy that was infecting everyone, mattered to him.” He drops to the floor opposite her, silently encouraging her to continue.
“Oh, yeah. See, the sarcasm’s just a cover. You have to ignore that an’ see him for what he is. Don’t under-estimate him, but don’t think he’s God either, cause he’s not. He gets things wrong. Makes stupid mistakes.” She finger-combs her damp hair, then tosses it over her shoulder and faces him with another smile. “But that just makes him more inclined to understand when other people make mistakes. Like me.” A grimace clouds her face for a moment. “Say you’re sorry and mean it, an’ he’ll give you a second chance.”
Right. And that certainly makes sense. So he’s on his second chance now, is he? He’d better not screw up this time, because somehow he doesn’t think the Doctor’s into giving third chances.
***
tbc
Author: wmr
wendymr
Characters: Ninth Doctor, Rose Tyler, Jack Harkness
Rated: PG13
Disclaimer: Only the missing time between The Doctor Dances and Boom Town belongs to me (I wish)
Summary: The Doctor said he'd better be bigger on the inside. But is he?
With huge thanks again to
ponygirl72 for her continuing and invaluable help, and an absolutely enormous debt of gratitude to
dark_aegis for reading draft after draft and encouraging me when I told her it was crap.
Chapter 1: Stray l Chapter 2: Tea and Sympathy l Chapter 3: Out of Time
Chapter 4: Learning to Trust
Men and their games. Jack’s on his own with this one; whatever the Doctor’s up to here, Jack just better be clever enough - and not too much of an idiot - to handle it. If she’s right about him, even despite the bad judgement he showed after she and the Doctor told him they weren’t Time Agents, he’ll cope.
The Doctor could well have a good reason for wanting the passwords. On the other hand, he could just be pushing Jack, seeing how far he’s willing to go to betray the people he used to work for - whether he’s just another Adam, out for his own self-interest. Though he’s got to know that’s not the case. Today, Jack would have sacrificed himself to save the two of them.
She knows the second Jack’s made his decision, even before he moves closer to the Doctor at the console.
Gesturing to the screen, Jack says, “The most common passwords were always hexadecimal format with triple-DES encryption. So there’re three parts to the code, and the third is hidden. Each key is 32 characters. Anything from zero to nine and A to F. Beyond that, they sometimes used RSA algorithms. No standard format there - could be any number of characters or keystrokes.”
The Doctor nods once. “Okay. Like I said, predictable.” There’s a grin on his face that she knows very well: the look of satisfaction at being right once again.
“How are you going to get in?”
“The TARDIS can calculate about two million combinations a second. Even faster than a Dalek.” She winces at the memory of the Dalek breaking Van Statten’s supposedly uncrackable security system. “And it overrides all lockout systems.”
Jack, of course, has no unpleasant memories here. He just nods. “Okay. But what do you want to get into the Time Agency’s computer for?”
“I’m gonna delete all criminal records relating to your biosignature. I don’t want anything like today to happen again.”
What? He’s doing that? That’s got to be a good sign. The Doctor wouldn’t have done anything like that for Adam. It has to mean he’s starting to accept that Jack’s more than just a conman.
“You’re kidding.” Jack’s tone is flat, disbelieving.
“See for yourself.” The Doctor types a few commands, then steps back from the console, waving elaborately.
Jack looks, then releases a low whistle. “Thank you.” The stiffness she’s noticed in his body ever since the Doctor asked him for the passwords has disappeared; there’s relief instead, but without the self-confidence she saw when they rescued him from his ship. She wonders now how much of that was bravado.
The Doctor shrugs. “Like I said, I don’t want you causing any more trouble.” The words are dismissive, but the Doctor’s tone isn’t. He’s definitely thawing.
And an idea occurs to her. “If you’re in the Time Agency’s computers, can you find Jack’s memories?”
Jack’s head shoots up again, and there’s a flash of hope in his eyes. “Can you?”
The Doctor shakes his head, just once. “Nope. Whatever they did with his memories - and there might not even be any record - they won’t be on a computer like this. Not possible.”
He sounds completely certain, and she knows better than to question him. Jack looks as if he’s going to argue at first, but after a few seconds he nods. “Hey, at least I don’t have to watch my back any more. That’s worth a lot. Thanks, Doctor.”
Jack sticks out his hand, as if to shake the Doctor’s, before he hesitates and looks down at the bandages. “Damn. Keep forgetting.”
The Doctor’s hand locks around Jack’s elbow, and she sees, suddenly, what he’s noticed. Parts of the orange bandage are flecked with crimson. “Med-lab. Now.”
***
“You could have held that over my head. Used it to guarantee my good behaviour or something. Keep my nose clean, you’ll wipe my record.”
Something flashes briefly in the Doctor’s eyes as he cleans Jack’s hand. “You really think Rose would let me do that?”
It has nothing to do with Rose. He knows that without even having to think about it. Rose wouldn’t even have needed to know about it. The Doctor wouldn’t let himself do it.
Unbelievable. After all this time, all the betrayals, he’s finally met someone who’s going to treat him fairly. And he’d begun by trying to con the guy.
He’s still marvelling over that the next morning after the Doctor’s removed his bandages and his hands are as good as new. Incredible. Forty-eight hours ago, he was in 1941, killing time by flirting with Algy while he waited for his marks to catch up with him. Thirty-six hours ago, he almost wiped out the human race. And now he’s been given the chance to make a new start, to become an honest man again, and to travel with a Time Lord.
It’s a chance he’s not going to muck up. No way.
Already, he’s seen one way he can make himself useful. Rose. She’s clearly had no self-defence training at all, and one of these days that’s going to be a problem. That move of hers against the Time Agent was a brave attempt, but it was sheer luck that she hit her target. If she’d been fighting him, he’d have had her overpowered and on the ground before she knew what had happened.
“About Rose,” he says as the Doctor finishes examining his arms. “Don’t you worry about her?”
The Doctor gives him a narrow-eyed look. “With blokes like you around, you have to ask?”
He chokes back a sigh. “That’s not what I mean. She’s not a pro at this, Doctor. Not like you are. Not like me - I mean, whatever you think of me, at least I’ve had training. I know what I’m getting into, and I can defend myself. She doesn’t - she can’t.”
The Doctor turns away, putting equipment back into drawers and on shelves. “Rose can defend herself better than you think. When I first met her, she saved my life - swung in on a chain, knocked a couple of Autons out of the way an’ saved the day. Saved both our lives, an’ the Prime Minister’s, in an explosion, too.” There’s pride in his voice. Not surprising, but he’s completely missing the point.
“Still, wouldn’t hurt if she learned a bit about self-defence,” he suggests, testing the water.
“Told you. Rose can look after herself. An’ I’m around to look after her too.” The Doctor’s tone makes clear that this isn’t a subject for discussion.
He could remind the Doctor about barrage balloons and Nazi bombers, but there’s no point. It’s not as if he needs the Doctor’s permission to give Rose a few lessons in taking care of herself, after all.
“I’m only gonna say this once, Captain,” the Doctor continues, a steel note in his voice. “You are not going to teach Rose to use a gun. In my experience - and, trust me, I’m a lot older than you even imagine - people like you are far too quick to resort to weapons.”
He shrugs, swinging his legs off the treatment-couch and onto the floor. “No argument here. Guns have their uses, but if that’s your only strategy for self-defence you’ve already lost.”
His host just grunts. But nothing further is said either for or against him giving Rose some tips on taking care of herself. As far as he’s concerned, that’s all he needs.
An opportunity arises a day or two later, when the Doctor tells the two of them to amuse themselves for a while as he needs to do some maintenance. He won’t say what’s wrong, and Jack’s offer to help is dismissed with a look that says what would you know about Time Lord technology?
Not a lot, of course, though he wouldn’t mind learning. Now’s obviously not going to be his chance, though; the Doctor’s got a long way to go before he’ll trust that the conman’s reformed. Still, Jack can’t resist one comment before he follows Rose out of the console room. “Not that I know anything, but it sounds to me like her stabilisers could use some lubrication.”
Maybe it’s his imagination, but does the steady hum of the TARDIS engines change pitch? At the same time, the Doctor gives him a suspicious look. He just shrugs, grins and strides ahead to catch up with Rose.
“So, the TARDIS. Sentient ship, yeah?” He’s come across a sentient ship once before, though that was nothing like this. The TARDIS has to be alive, though. It’s the only explanation for things he’s noticed, like rooms moving, dimensions altering (already his bed’s expanded in size, giving him much more room to stretch out - or enjoy recreational activities, assuming either of his travelling companions ever show willing), and the sense of a continuous... presence... in his head. Well, either that or it’s the Doctor. Time Lords, so the legends say, are telepathic, after all. And he absolutely wouldn’t put it past the Doctor to psych him out just for kicks.
Rose nods. “Was a bit of a shock when the Doctor explained it to me. Gets inside your head, he says. I couldn’t understand how all the aliens I met spoke English. The TARDIS translates automatically.”
“Useful. Could’ve used that instead of the software on my wristcom.” He taps at it.
“Oh?”
“Yeah.” He pulls a face. “Time Agency issue. Supposedly the best in the universe, but...” He shakes his head, pulling a face. “Not gonna forget in a hurry the time I asked a Conzincheala ‘your place or mine?’ and he thought I was telling him to go screw himself.”
Rose’s laugh is completely uninhibited, and his body’s instantaneous reaction takes him aback. Sure, she’s attractive, and if there hadn’t been time-sensitivity on the con he’d have had her in his bed within half an hour of meeting her. But they’re not even touching now, and he’s been more than effectively told that she’s off-limits. Normally that’d be plenty to quell his libido.
God, he needs to get laid.
But not right now. “So, there anything like a gym around here?”
“Yeah. Pretty well-equipped, actually.” She stops walking and turns to look at him, eying the biceps and chest muscles he knows are very well-displayed in the form-fitting T-shirt he chose today. “You want to work out?”
“Actually, I thought maybe you’d like to try out some stuff.” At her arch look - ah, so the pretty Rose still enjoys flirting, even on her home territory, with the Doctor not far away? Definitely promising. - he explains. “That was a nice move you made yesterday, but there’re less predictable strategies I could teach you. Ever studied martial arts? Self-defence?”
“Not really. Offering to teach me?” The way she curls her tongue around her cheek... oh, she knows what she’s doing. And if the Doctor seriously believes that she’s an innocent too easily corrupted by the likes of him, the man’s deluded.
“Well, unless you’re up for another type of full-body contact...” He winks at her, and she laughs again before taking his hand and leading him along more corridors than he could have imagined this ship would contain. Disappointingly, their destination actually is the gym and not her bedroom. Ah well. He’ll survive.
***
Jack’s surprisingly businesslike once they’re in the gym. She half-suspected he was going to use teaching her as an excuse to feel her up and crank up his flirting a few notches, but instead there’s not a trace of teasing or flirtation. His hands touch her only to demonstrate, and don’t linger a second longer than necessary.
He’s a good teacher, though. He shows her how to feint, block, attack, get past her opponent’s guard and even take down a man twice her weight. He doesn’t give her any concessions, taking her down to the mat time and time again as she makes mistakes or fails to block his attack. But he’s also quick with praise when she gets it right, especially when she manages to knock him to the floor.
He teaches her to use her opponent’s strength and momentum against him, and that’s something she can’t help feeling would have been really useful - even before she started travelling with the Doctor. He tells her, too, that he can vary his lessons to take into account non-humanoid aliens, if she wants. And she does - while the danger’s part of the thrill of travelling with the Doctor, staying alive and not being a liability are definitely high on her priority list, as is doing her best to keep the Doctor alive as well. Jack too, now, of course.
The third time she takes him down, he stays on the floor and stretches a hand up to her.
“Yeah, right.” She laughs. “Like I can pull you up.”
He waggles his hand again, and she shakes her head but grabs it. The next thing she knows, he’s pulling her down, and she tumbles on top of him as he laughs triumphantly.
And now the serious trainer’s vanished completely. There’s a glint in Jack’s eye as he grins at her, and her thigh against his hip tells her that he’s not been as completely unaffected by their close contact as he’s let her believe.
Then the grin’s gone, his fingers are trailing lightly and, oh, so tantalisingly across her hip and he’s staring at her, his gaze fixed on... oh, god, on her lips. And she can’t help it; before she knows it she’s staring at his lips as well, her heart thudding and her mind fixated on just one thought: what would his mouth feel like on hers?
Good. Bloody good, she’s very sure of that. And right here, right now there’s nothing she wants more than to get tangible proof of that - to finish what they started when the two of them danced together on top of his spaceship.
All it’d take is one little move on her part. If she just dipped her head a few inches... But what stops her is one thing; just one little memory.
You sure this is the best time to be coming on to me?
He stopped so easily before, then got right back into it when she made clear it was just a token protest - but then the charm switched off once more, so easily, just like the flip of a switch, when he realised his time was running out and she wasn’t getting into the negotiation. On, off, on, off; Jack’s a practised seducer and none of this means a thing to him. He’d happily kiss her right now, of that she’s got no doubt. He’d shag her, too, and it’d probably even be the best sex of her life - but it’s not worth being no more than a notch on his bedpost.
She slides off him and scrambles to her feet, ignoring his soft laughter, and tries to tell herself that it’s self-preservation, not cowardice, that prompts her withdrawal.
Waggling her fingers at him, she heads for the door. “I need a shower. See ya later!”
He’s still laughing as she closes the gym door behind her.
***
He finishes cleaning the stabilisers, then oils them thoroughly, rolling his eyes as he finishes. Just a lucky guess, that’s all.
And so the new passenger’s teaching Rose about self-defence. Not a bad idea, really. It’s something he should have done himself, not that he has the patience. Or the skill, really, in this regeneration. Now, if he was still in his third body - oh, that Venusian aikido came in handy a time or two. Now, though, athletic as this body is, it seems to lack the co-ordination he had then, even if he wasn’t as physically fit.
Jack’s making himself useful. Good. Means he wasn’t mistaken in deciding that the brash young Time Agent turned conman has the potential to be much more than he was.
“How’s it going, Doctor?”
“Ow!” The unexpected voice has taken him by surprise. The brash young human’s managed to sneak up on him, and he’s jerked his head up reflexively and hit it on the underside of the console. Sliding out from beneath the wiring and supports, he glares at Jack. “Give me a little warning next time, will you?”
“Sorry.” Jack comes closer. “Didn’t know you didn’t hear me coming.”
He twists his body to reach for a spanner. “Catch.” Jack does, surprisingly well. “You were right about the stabilisers. Let’s see if it was just a fluke.”
Immediately, Jack bounds closer still. “What do you need me to do?”
Disgustingly enthusiastic - but he gets points for not crowing about being right. “Connectors in there need tightening.”
With a nod, Jack drops down and into the indicated space under the grating, immediately getting to work. More points, the Doctor allows grudgingly, for the lack of inane chatter.
“Where’s Rose?” Strange she hasn’t appeared. Did the two of them fight over something? They better not be turning his ship into a domestic battleground and expecting him to sort it out.
“Went to take a shower.” Jack’s voice is muffled and barely audible over the sound of bolts being tightened. “She had quite a workout.”
“Right. Saw you were giving her lessons.” No harm letting Jack know there’s not a lot goes on in his ship that he doesn’t know about.
“She’s a fast learner.” Anything else Jack might have said is lost in a sudden surprised grunt.
“What’s up?”
“My own fault - turned a connector the wrong way and got sprayed with oil.”
He leans over, grabs a rag and throws it down. “Might’ve been the TARDIS. She likes to play tricks sometimes.”
He can hear an affectionate smile in Jack’s voice as he answers. “Nah, you wouldn’t do that, would you? Beautiful lady like you, you’d never be so rude.”
And just like that the human passes another test. When he invited Jack to take a closer look at the TARDIS mechanics, he was just waiting for the bloke to show contempt or ridicule at the lack of fancy electronics or the type of tech he’d have had on his Time Agent ship or the stolen, invisible Chula spaceship. Others - including other Time Lords - have laughed at the make-do maintenance he’s had to do over the centuries to keep an obsolete, ancient ship alive and running: the paper-clips, string and sealing wax and even an old bicycle pump that he’s adapted to his purposes. But not Jack. Instead, he’s clearly fascinated, utterly won over.
Smothering a grin, the Doctor says blandly, “Stop flirting with my ship, Captain.”
A burst of laughter comes from under the grating. “How can I help it? She’s gorgeous, Doctor. Utterly irresistible.”
And he is so not going to go there.
Rose still isn’t back, so he takes advantage of an opportunity to indulge his curiosity. “They wipe people’s memories a lot, do they, the Time Agency?”
It’s actually to his discredit that he doesn’t know a lot about the Agency. Meddling amateurs, the Time Lords had considered them, though all but the loftiest in the Citadel had to admit that they were sometimes useful. Brave, too; many Time Agents sacrificed their lives fighting Daleks in the battles that preceded the Time War.
“Not often to serving Time Agents - at least, that I know of.”
“Oh?” He tweaks a setting on the console. Yes, that’s better; smoother pitch. “Non-serving agents?”
“Yeah, well, that’s something everyone understands when they’re recruited. The Agency’s not just a career, it’s a lifetime commitment. You want to quit, you get your memory replaced and a completely different identity.”
“Replaced?”
“Yeah, you get false memories implanted. I mean, you spend, say, fifteen years as an agent, then you want out, you’re not twenty-two any more, right? So something has to replace those years. They get memories of an ordinary life, that’s all.”
Expedient, even if not something he approves of. “And you? You didn’t ask to leave, did you?”
“Like hell!” But then Jack blows out a breath. “I don’t remember what happened. But I know I didn’t.”
“But two years, you said. Not your whole Agency career. And no-one told you why?” Before Jack can answer, he adds, “How do you even know it was two years? You’re a time-traveller. Could’ve been more. Or less.” If anything at all - anything more than a really bad hangover.
Jack hoists himself up from the grating. One side of his face is smeared with oil, and his hair is untidy. Nothing like his usual cover-model appearance, and he looks far better for it. “Genetic age-monitoring. We all have ‘em where I come from. I know exactly when I was born and how old I am, and it can’t be tampered with. I joined the Agency when I was twenty-two, and I remember ten years of service. Woke up that day, knew I was thirty-four. Two years unaccounted for. What would you think, Doctor?”
He leans against the console, looking down at Jack, who’s sitting on the edge of the grating, and shrugs. “Accident? Amnesia?”
“You’d think,” Jack agrees, and anger crosses his face. His eyes are bleak. “I was in an Agency safe house. No memory of getting there, or why I was there. So I went to find the medic. He didn’t even look me over - just told me there was nothing wrong. I was running all over the place, trying to find out what the hell was going on, when a guy I knew slightly, but who seemed to know me a whole lot better, pulled me aside and told me I’d been through the memory-wiping suite. He didn’t know why, or if he did he wasn’t saying. I got the hell out of there and went to see my CO. He wouldn’t tell me what was going on, either, but he didn’t deny they’d taken my memories. That’s when I quit. Found out later they’d declared me a criminal, too.”
“That’s just wrong.” It is. No-one, no organisation, should take upon themselves the power to do that to people. Not without any sort of due process or appeal - and even then it’s a terrible thing to do.
“So, we gonna stop it, then?” Rose is lounging in the doorway; neither of them noticed her arrive.
“No.” She looks indignant, about to protest, so he pre-empts her. “Can’t interfere. Tell you what we are going to do, though.”
“What?” Jack sounds surprised, almost suspicious.
He lets a slow grin curve over his face. This is a decision he made almost from the moment Jack first told the two of them about his missing memories, but he’s only now resolved to act on it. “Gonna get your two years back, that’s what.”
***
That’s all the Doctor will say on the subject. No comment on how he plans to do it, or when, or - most intriguing of all - why. Why would someone who has no reason to like him or care what happens to him want to help him? And not just by saving his life or offering him a temporary home, but by undoing the worst thing that’s happened to him?
“It’s probably not you at all,” Rose says casually a couple of days later as he continues her lessons. “It’s just the way he is. He’s the Doctor, an’ it’s what he does. If he thinks something’s wrong, then he tries to put it right. Unless it involves changing history in some way that’s gonna cause a paradox.”
“Of course,” he agrees, sidestepping the little manoeuvre she’s trying to make that would have had him flat on his back had it worked. He hooks his arm around her neck from behind and proceeds to teach her how to get out of that. “He’s a Time Lord,” he adds, as she successfully escapes. “I can see him putting things right where history’s gone wrong or whatever. But this isn’t history. It’s just me, and he doesn’t even like me.”
She laughs at that. “He likes you. You wouldn’t be here if he didn’t. He’d have dumped you back in 1941, or taken you back wherever he thinks you’re supposed to be. He’s very fussy about who’s allowed in his ship.”
Like that’s a surprise. As for the Doctor liking him, Rose really doesn’t know him too well, does she? Bit of a surprise, that - but then, he figured out a while back that she’s a lot more naïve than she’d like him to believe.
“Don’t let him intimidate you,” Rose says, grabbing a towel and patting the back of her neck. “One minute he can be furious as all the hounds of hell, and the next he’s laughing with you. You just have to learn to read him. And don’t let him get away with it when he’s being unfair.”
“Nah, I’m not intimidated.” Well, only by what he is. Not by the guy himself. “There is something that intrigues me, though. All those cracks of his about humans - what’s he doing travelling with two of them?” Well, aside from the fact that he’s the only Time Lord left.
“Yeah, I know.” Rose rolls her eyes, sinking down to sit cross-legged on the mat. “Thing is, for all his smart-alec cracks about humans, he loves Earth an’ us. Visits every chance he gets, an’ he’s saved the planet more times than anyone will ever know. ‘S not just Earth, though. Everywhere he goes, he ends up helping someone. He gets interested in people, wants to know about their lives. They can be the most ordinary people around, they’ll never amount to anything, but he cares about them. The more ordinary the better, really.”
That doesn’t really sound like anything he’s ever heard about Time Lords. Overseeing the universe without getting involved, that’s what the legends say. But Rose has been with the Doctor for six months, she told him. So she’d know.
“Guess I’ve seen that. He didn’t have to save me, and I saw how everyone there, even the little boy that was infecting everyone, mattered to him.” He drops to the floor opposite her, silently encouraging her to continue.
“Oh, yeah. See, the sarcasm’s just a cover. You have to ignore that an’ see him for what he is. Don’t under-estimate him, but don’t think he’s God either, cause he’s not. He gets things wrong. Makes stupid mistakes.” She finger-combs her damp hair, then tosses it over her shoulder and faces him with another smile. “But that just makes him more inclined to understand when other people make mistakes. Like me.” A grimace clouds her face for a moment. “Say you’re sorry and mean it, an’ he’ll give you a second chance.”
Right. And that certainly makes sense. So he’s on his second chance now, is he? He’d better not screw up this time, because somehow he doesn’t think the Doctor’s into giving third chances.
***
tbc