Fic: How to Handle Your Human
Title: How to Handle Your Human
Beta: dameruth & wendymr
Characters: Nine, Jack, Rose
Rating: All Ages
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction; the characters are the property of the BBC and used here without permission. No money was made.
Wordcount: ~750
Summary: Relationships don't grow over long stretches of time. They're grown in a series of moments. Sometimes deliberately, sometimes unnoticed. Sometimes both.
A/N: This is not part of any of my continuities. It's set over the course of Jack's first weeks in the TARDIS.
This was written for canaana's 2010 fandom stocking. Happy 2011, canaana!
How to Handle Your Human
"Doctor, I'm really sorry."
The Doctor shakes his head. "Wasn't your fault, lad. Their radiation shields were just too old. You kept them online as long as possible." Not long enough for most of the station's crew.
"If I'd just-"
"Jack!" The Doctor almost snaps. "I've been tellin' you - it wasn't your fault. All right?"
"All right..."
The Doctor watches Jack slink - that's the only verb that accurately describes his halting, defeated movements - out of the console room and sighs. It wasn't Jack's fault, but how many more times is he supposed to tell him that?
*****
"You have to understand that Rose is working from a different set of cultural parameters, Jack." The Doctor pinches the bridge of his nose. He hates it when his companions squabble.
Rose nods vehemently. He turns to her.
"An' so's Jack. No reason to always assume the worst."
Rose huffs. "Fine. I'll continue my bath now, if that's all right. Alone!" She storms off.
Jack's looking at his feet. "I'm-"
"'S fine. Just remember next time." He turns to go back to the console room. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Jack slumping against the wall dejectedly.
The lad's always so hard on himself. The Doctor wishes he knew what to say. But he's rubbish at finding the right words.
He leaves. Jack's a big boy, he'll get over it.
*****
"Ouch! Dammit..." Jack rubs his hand.
"You all right?"
"Yeah, just touched the Q-conductor."
"Don't do that! Stupid ape."
"Thanks for your concern." Jack turns away.
The Doctor stops and considers his companion, taking in the tense shoulders, the clenched fist. He stands up and closes the distance between them. "Let me see."
"It's nothing." Jack shakes his head, but lets the Doctor examine the small burn.
He carefully strokes a thumb over it. It's just a first degree burn, and not a bad one at that. "There's some ointment in the toolbox that'll sort this." Looking up into Jack's eyes, he notices something soft. And the lad's hand in his is curling slightly, almost as if he's trying to-
Oh.
He experimentally cups Jack's neck in one hand. "Be more careful, eh? Don't want you gettin' hurt."
Jack ducks his head and smiles. "I'll try." The Doctor feels his whole body relax under his hand. Well. How did he miss this before? He scolds himself for being a stupid git.
It makes sense, too. Jack's an excellent liar. Of course he'd find words hard to trust.
Though... he's sure the lad knows how to lie with his body as well. He practically told them as much.
But that probably means he also knows how much harder it is to pull off.
With an apologetic sigh, the Doctor pulls Jack into a hug.
Jack looks startled, but leans in willingly. "What's that for?" he asks, with only the slightest hint of innuendo.
"No reason at all." The Doctor pulls back and grins at him widely. "Don't need a reason to hug my companions."
Jack cocks his head. Clearly, he's picked up on the fact that there's a deeper meaning behind the Doctor's words, but can't figure it out. Just as well. The Doctor gently swats his hip. "Ointment. An' then back to work."
Jack grins. "Aye, Sir."
*****
"Doctor, I'm really sorry."
The Doctor shakes his head. "Wasn't your fault, lad." He puts a hand on Jack's shoulder and squeezes gently. "Had no way of knowing the toxins had already leaked into the groundwater."
Jack leans his head to the side, as if he's trying to touch his cheek to the Doctor's hand. The Doctor half-turns and wraps an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. "Go and get some food, eh? Haven't had anything since breakfast."
Jack smiles. It's tinged with sadness about the lives lost today, but there's no more guilt lurking in the shadows of his eyes. He leaves the console room with slow, heavy steps, but his head's held high.
*****
Jack's not sure what it is, but recently, he feels a lot more accepted, and much more part of the TARDIS crew.
Before, he was never quite certain where he stood with the Doctor, often suspecting the Time Lord was angry with him even when he denied it.
Now he always knows. Doesn't mean the Doctor’s never angry with him - or vice-versa - but when he is, Jack always knows why, and what he has to do to fix it, and the precise moment he's forgiven.
It's as if they're finally speaking the same language.
The End
Beta: dameruth & wendymr
Characters: Nine, Jack, Rose
Rating: All Ages
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction; the characters are the property of the BBC and used here without permission. No money was made.
Wordcount: ~750
Summary: Relationships don't grow over long stretches of time. They're grown in a series of moments. Sometimes deliberately, sometimes unnoticed. Sometimes both.
A/N: This is not part of any of my continuities. It's set over the course of Jack's first weeks in the TARDIS.
This was written for canaana's 2010 fandom stocking. Happy 2011, canaana!
How to Handle Your Human
"Doctor, I'm really sorry."
The Doctor shakes his head. "Wasn't your fault, lad. Their radiation shields were just too old. You kept them online as long as possible." Not long enough for most of the station's crew.
"If I'd just-"
"Jack!" The Doctor almost snaps. "I've been tellin' you - it wasn't your fault. All right?"
"All right..."
The Doctor watches Jack slink - that's the only verb that accurately describes his halting, defeated movements - out of the console room and sighs. It wasn't Jack's fault, but how many more times is he supposed to tell him that?
*****
"You have to understand that Rose is working from a different set of cultural parameters, Jack." The Doctor pinches the bridge of his nose. He hates it when his companions squabble.
Rose nods vehemently. He turns to her.
"An' so's Jack. No reason to always assume the worst."
Rose huffs. "Fine. I'll continue my bath now, if that's all right. Alone!" She storms off.
Jack's looking at his feet. "I'm-"
"'S fine. Just remember next time." He turns to go back to the console room. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Jack slumping against the wall dejectedly.
The lad's always so hard on himself. The Doctor wishes he knew what to say. But he's rubbish at finding the right words.
He leaves. Jack's a big boy, he'll get over it.
*****
"Ouch! Dammit..." Jack rubs his hand.
"You all right?"
"Yeah, just touched the Q-conductor."
"Don't do that! Stupid ape."
"Thanks for your concern." Jack turns away.
The Doctor stops and considers his companion, taking in the tense shoulders, the clenched fist. He stands up and closes the distance between them. "Let me see."
"It's nothing." Jack shakes his head, but lets the Doctor examine the small burn.
He carefully strokes a thumb over it. It's just a first degree burn, and not a bad one at that. "There's some ointment in the toolbox that'll sort this." Looking up into Jack's eyes, he notices something soft. And the lad's hand in his is curling slightly, almost as if he's trying to-
Oh.
He experimentally cups Jack's neck in one hand. "Be more careful, eh? Don't want you gettin' hurt."
Jack ducks his head and smiles. "I'll try." The Doctor feels his whole body relax under his hand. Well. How did he miss this before? He scolds himself for being a stupid git.
It makes sense, too. Jack's an excellent liar. Of course he'd find words hard to trust.
Though... he's sure the lad knows how to lie with his body as well. He practically told them as much.
But that probably means he also knows how much harder it is to pull off.
With an apologetic sigh, the Doctor pulls Jack into a hug.
Jack looks startled, but leans in willingly. "What's that for?" he asks, with only the slightest hint of innuendo.
"No reason at all." The Doctor pulls back and grins at him widely. "Don't need a reason to hug my companions."
Jack cocks his head. Clearly, he's picked up on the fact that there's a deeper meaning behind the Doctor's words, but can't figure it out. Just as well. The Doctor gently swats his hip. "Ointment. An' then back to work."
Jack grins. "Aye, Sir."
*****
"Doctor, I'm really sorry."
The Doctor shakes his head. "Wasn't your fault, lad." He puts a hand on Jack's shoulder and squeezes gently. "Had no way of knowing the toxins had already leaked into the groundwater."
Jack leans his head to the side, as if he's trying to touch his cheek to the Doctor's hand. The Doctor half-turns and wraps an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. "Go and get some food, eh? Haven't had anything since breakfast."
Jack smiles. It's tinged with sadness about the lives lost today, but there's no more guilt lurking in the shadows of his eyes. He leaves the console room with slow, heavy steps, but his head's held high.
*****
Jack's not sure what it is, but recently, he feels a lot more accepted, and much more part of the TARDIS crew.
Before, he was never quite certain where he stood with the Doctor, often suspecting the Time Lord was angry with him even when he denied it.
Now he always knows. Doesn't mean the Doctor’s never angry with him - or vice-versa - but when he is, Jack always knows why, and what he has to do to fix it, and the precise moment he's forgiven.
It's as if they're finally speaking the same language.
The End