Thursday Afternoon; Doctor Who; R
Apr. 28th, 2008 05:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
morgynleriTitle: Thursday Afternoon
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: R
Warnings: Violence, death
Characters: Jack Harkness, Jacobi!Master, Georgette, Alice, Julia
Summary/Teaser: Being a hero is part of who Jack is, even when it means explaining himself to the Master, or the possibility of losing a friend.
Notes: Thank you to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
_medley_ for the beta-read, and thank you to twistdfateangel for her help in the early writing, when the muses wanted to run away more than cooperate. *gives chocolate to both*
Set in the Lieutenant to Chaos AU, in Victorian-era London.
~ ~~ ~
Jack hummed to himself as he strolled along the street, enjoying the relative quiet of a day by himself. He pulled his watch out of his pocket a moment, glancing at it. A few hours yet before he would have to meet the Master for dinner. Enough time to stop by and say hello to one of his favorite ladies, maybe open that nice bottle of port he knew was in her cabinet.
He frowned as he approached the house, seeing the door open. She never left it open, and her girls wouldn't, either. Pushing open the door gently, he kept alert to any sound or movement in the house. A shill scream catapulted him around the frame, and towards the stairs and the sound. Pain, and fear, and he responded, pausing only briefly at the top of the stairs to pull a knife from the boot sheath he carried it in.
Drunken laughter filtered through a door, along with a whimper of terror. A scream further down the hall momentarily drowned out the off-key strains of "Champagne Charlie". Glass shattered, filling the air with the overpowering smell of violets and alcohol - Georgette's favorite scent, and probably whatever her attacker was drinking.
A woman, half-dressed and weeping, stumbled out into the hall. She spotted Jack and dragged herself towards him, terror etched across her thin face, a scarlet stain spreading across the right side of her petticoat. A beefy figure came up behind her and grabbed her ankle, a cruel smile on his face as she screamed and collapsed.
"Hey!" Jack moved quickly, shouldering the man away from the woman, recognizing Julia beneath the tear-stains and terror on her face. One of the girls, and he silently urged her to get out of there while he kept her attacker at bay.
"Why don't you and your friends go looking elsewhere for your fun? Go out, find a pub, have a few drinks, and leave the girls alone," he snarled, keeping between the man and Julia. He worried for a moment about where Georgette was, knowing she wouldn't leave if there was trouble. Not before she got all the girls to safety.
"Move along, milksop!" the man grumbled, shoving Jack away to slam into the opposite wall. "You're gettin' off easy!"
The man growled, grabbing Julia by the hair. Jack's presence, however, gave her an extra shot of courage. She reached up and clawed at his hand, used her functional leg to kick him in the crotch. The man howled, releasing his grip, and Julia hauled herself to the stairs, Jack between her and her attacker onve more.
The sharp crack of gunfire came from Georgette's room, making Jack tense, unwilling to leave Julia unprotected even as instincts screamed that Georgette was in danger. A very unladylike oath and more shattering glass followed Alice as she came tearing out, clutching a shawl around her bare shoulders, dressed only slightly more than Julia.
Jack shrugged his coat off his shoulders, keeping an eye on the man as he made sure Alice got to the stairs, draping his coat around Julia's shoulders. "Get her out of here, sweetheart. I'll deal with these bastards." He pressed a hand to Alice's shoulder, warm and reassuring.
Alice pecked him hastily on the cheek, whispering "for luck" before she helped Julia up and eased her down the stairs.
Julia's attacker roared and took a swing at Jack's head, intending to knock the hero out of him, angry at the interruption to his fun.
Jack dodged the drunken blow, his attention focused now on his opponent. He tightened his grip on his knife, easily dropping into the stance of a seasoned fighter, adrenaline coursing through him. "Is that the best you got?" he taunted, deliberately provoking.
Jack's attacker made another swing, aiming for the belt and driving his fist in as hard as he could, as he grabbed Jack by the collar, and his foot came down on Jack's.
Jack let out his air in a whoosh as the man's fist impacted, folding over more than the blow would warrant to rob it of some of its impact. The hand not holding his knife came up to mirror the burlier man's grip on his collar, and he looked up with a vicious smile on his face as he returned the favor, the knife digging deep into the man's side instead of merely a fist.
"I told you to find your fun elsewhere," he panted as he pulled out of the man's grip, the bloody knife still held in his hand. "Should have listened to me."
He slumped, but a hand slipped to the inside of his coat. He drew out a pistol and pointed at Jack's head. "Dodge this, you little blighter!"
Jack barely had time to register the gun before the man fired, mentally cursing even as he tried to dive out of the way. He really didn't need to explain to Georgette - or anyone, again - that he couldn't die. The last thought that passed through his mind was that at least he'd surprise the hell out of the bastard when he got back up.
~ ~~ ~
Jack gasped for breath, uncertain how much time had passed, the memories from just before he died still painted in vivid color in his mind's eye. A shadowy figure leaned over him, and he lunged, hoping to catch whoever it was off-guard.
Strong, cool hands caught his wrists before he could land a blow, gathered him to a familiar chest, holding him steady while he regained his equilibrium.
"Now, Jack, is that any way to treat the person who's trying to help you?" The words were faintly mocking, and the tone more patient than Jack had expected.
It took him a moment longer to focus, to see a dimly-lit room beyond ripped bed-curtains. The mirror over the vanity had been shattered, and the perfume bottles that normally cluttered it were gone - likely smashed by the men who'd invaded the house, and killed Jack.
"Master," he whispered, acknowledging the man holding him, relaxing against him a bit.
"That's it." The Master didn't let Jack go yet, his hands still wrapped around his wrists, thumbs rubbing over Jack's pulse-points. "I would have thought you'd learn not to get into fights when I'm otherwise occupied, Jack. What was it this time?"
"I didn't get into a fight." Jack hissed as the Master scraped the edge of a nail over his wrist. "I was in the right place at the right time - or the wrong place at the wrong time, whichever way you want to look at it."
"You were playing hero again, weren't you?" The Master tightened his grip on Jack's wrists, echoing the annoyance in his voice.
Jack tried to pull away, scowling when the Master wouldn't let him. "What was I supposed to do, just walk away?"
The Master sighed, loosening his grip after a moment. "I doubt you could." He let one wrist go, curling his fingers around Jack's jaw to turn his face where he could study the expression on it a moment. "What was it this time?"
Jack gritted his teeth a moment, glaring at him. "I was going to visit Georgette. Someone had broken in, attacked some of the girls. He didn't like being told to go pick on someone else."
"Hmm." The Master held Jack's gaze with a cool expression, blue eyes studying him closely before he let Jack go, reaching for a glass on the table beside the bed. "She didn't take too kindly to finding you in the hallway with a hole in your skull. Nor to the suggestion that you would be just fine, given a bit of time."
Jack winced, taking the glass held out to him. He looked up when there was a tentative knock on the half-open door, and saw Georgette peering around the edge of the door.
"So, he was right." She studied Jack, without coming further into the room. "How is it possible?"
"I don't know." Jack used the bedpost to haul himself to his feet, unsteady on his feet for a moment. He held Georgette's gaze steadily. "There are some theories, but I don't know what happened to me to make me the way I am. I just... I can't die."
Georgette watched him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. "You were dead, Jack. That man shot you, killed you. And now you're walking around again." She tightened her grip on the doorframe, her knuckles whitening under the pressure she was putting on them. "It's not natural."
"No, it's not." Jack sighed, leaning against the bed-post. "Give me a bit, and I'll go..."
"No." Georgette shook her head. "You don't have to."
She drew in a deep breath, the effort it took her to let go of the doorframe and walk across the room visible. Reaching out a hesitant hand, she almost jerked back as her fingertips touched the fabric of his shirt. Another deep breath, and she slowly flattened her hand out over his chest, right over his heart.
"It's not..." Georgette trailed off, looking up at him, pressing her lips together over the word that hung between them.
Jack lifted a hand to press over hers, a half-smile curling up one corner of his mouth. "That's me, an impossible thing."
"Not a thing, Jack." Georgette pulled her hand free, raising it to cup his cheek instead. "No matter what that old man tells you, never a thing. You may not be... human, not the way I understand it, but you are still a person." She pressed a finger against his lips when he opened his mouth to protest, adding, "I have to believe that, Jack."
The Master cleared his throat, drawing their attention to where he stood at the end of the bed, now. He met Jack's eyes with a glint in them that Jack would have thought to be jealousy, if he didn't know better.
"We were going to have dinner tonight, Jack. Before you got into this little scuffle," the Master reminded him, voice underlaid with a hint of steel. "I expect you'll need a quick wash, if not a change of clothes - and soon, if we're to even make it to the restaurant before it closes."
"Yeah." Jack sighed, leaning his head back against the bed. "Just give me a moment."
"Cold bastard," Georgette muttered, with a flash of anger in her eyes before she softened and looked back to Jack, "Do you need anything? I can send a girl to fetch you a drink or something."
"I'll be fine." Jack leaned forward to kiss her temple a moment, before giving her a bit of a grin. "Just need to clean up a bit. Can't head off looking like I've just been at the wrong end of a fight."
The Master snorted softly, turning for the door. "Don't be too long, Jack."
"I won't be," Jack snapped back at him.
He almost ignored the brief hitch in the Master's stride, the fleeting sense of gathering electricity in the air before the Time Lord stepped out of the room, and took it with him.
"I've got to go, sweetheart." Jack gave Georgette a quick smile. "I'll stop by tomorrow, see how you and the girls are doing. Promise."
"If you're sure." Georgette didn't appear convinced, but she gave him a soft, weary smile. "Try not to get shot again. I'll already have a devil of a time explaining this one." The kiss she left on his forehead lingered a bit longer, but she did let him move away from the bed.
"I'm sure." Jack paused, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. "I can't leave him on his own, Georgette. I don't know what would happen if I did. Just... trust me on that, will you?" He gave her a reassuring smile before following the Master out the door.
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: R
Warnings: Violence, death
Characters: Jack Harkness, Jacobi!Master, Georgette, Alice, Julia
Summary/Teaser: Being a hero is part of who Jack is, even when it means explaining himself to the Master, or the possibility of losing a friend.
Notes: Thank you to
_medley_ for the beta-read, and thank you to twistdfateangel for her help in the early writing, when the muses wanted to run away more than cooperate. *gives chocolate to both*Set in the Lieutenant to Chaos AU, in Victorian-era London.
Jack hummed to himself as he strolled along the street, enjoying the relative quiet of a day by himself. He pulled his watch out of his pocket a moment, glancing at it. A few hours yet before he would have to meet the Master for dinner. Enough time to stop by and say hello to one of his favorite ladies, maybe open that nice bottle of port he knew was in her cabinet.
He frowned as he approached the house, seeing the door open. She never left it open, and her girls wouldn't, either. Pushing open the door gently, he kept alert to any sound or movement in the house. A shill scream catapulted him around the frame, and towards the stairs and the sound. Pain, and fear, and he responded, pausing only briefly at the top of the stairs to pull a knife from the boot sheath he carried it in.
Drunken laughter filtered through a door, along with a whimper of terror. A scream further down the hall momentarily drowned out the off-key strains of "Champagne Charlie". Glass shattered, filling the air with the overpowering smell of violets and alcohol - Georgette's favorite scent, and probably whatever her attacker was drinking.
A woman, half-dressed and weeping, stumbled out into the hall. She spotted Jack and dragged herself towards him, terror etched across her thin face, a scarlet stain spreading across the right side of her petticoat. A beefy figure came up behind her and grabbed her ankle, a cruel smile on his face as she screamed and collapsed.
"Hey!" Jack moved quickly, shouldering the man away from the woman, recognizing Julia beneath the tear-stains and terror on her face. One of the girls, and he silently urged her to get out of there while he kept her attacker at bay.
"Why don't you and your friends go looking elsewhere for your fun? Go out, find a pub, have a few drinks, and leave the girls alone," he snarled, keeping between the man and Julia. He worried for a moment about where Georgette was, knowing she wouldn't leave if there was trouble. Not before she got all the girls to safety.
"Move along, milksop!" the man grumbled, shoving Jack away to slam into the opposite wall. "You're gettin' off easy!"
The man growled, grabbing Julia by the hair. Jack's presence, however, gave her an extra shot of courage. She reached up and clawed at his hand, used her functional leg to kick him in the crotch. The man howled, releasing his grip, and Julia hauled herself to the stairs, Jack between her and her attacker onve more.
The sharp crack of gunfire came from Georgette's room, making Jack tense, unwilling to leave Julia unprotected even as instincts screamed that Georgette was in danger. A very unladylike oath and more shattering glass followed Alice as she came tearing out, clutching a shawl around her bare shoulders, dressed only slightly more than Julia.
Jack shrugged his coat off his shoulders, keeping an eye on the man as he made sure Alice got to the stairs, draping his coat around Julia's shoulders. "Get her out of here, sweetheart. I'll deal with these bastards." He pressed a hand to Alice's shoulder, warm and reassuring.
Alice pecked him hastily on the cheek, whispering "for luck" before she helped Julia up and eased her down the stairs.
Julia's attacker roared and took a swing at Jack's head, intending to knock the hero out of him, angry at the interruption to his fun.
Jack dodged the drunken blow, his attention focused now on his opponent. He tightened his grip on his knife, easily dropping into the stance of a seasoned fighter, adrenaline coursing through him. "Is that the best you got?" he taunted, deliberately provoking.
Jack's attacker made another swing, aiming for the belt and driving his fist in as hard as he could, as he grabbed Jack by the collar, and his foot came down on Jack's.
Jack let out his air in a whoosh as the man's fist impacted, folding over more than the blow would warrant to rob it of some of its impact. The hand not holding his knife came up to mirror the burlier man's grip on his collar, and he looked up with a vicious smile on his face as he returned the favor, the knife digging deep into the man's side instead of merely a fist.
"I told you to find your fun elsewhere," he panted as he pulled out of the man's grip, the bloody knife still held in his hand. "Should have listened to me."
He slumped, but a hand slipped to the inside of his coat. He drew out a pistol and pointed at Jack's head. "Dodge this, you little blighter!"
Jack barely had time to register the gun before the man fired, mentally cursing even as he tried to dive out of the way. He really didn't need to explain to Georgette - or anyone, again - that he couldn't die. The last thought that passed through his mind was that at least he'd surprise the hell out of the bastard when he got back up.
Jack gasped for breath, uncertain how much time had passed, the memories from just before he died still painted in vivid color in his mind's eye. A shadowy figure leaned over him, and he lunged, hoping to catch whoever it was off-guard.
Strong, cool hands caught his wrists before he could land a blow, gathered him to a familiar chest, holding him steady while he regained his equilibrium.
"Now, Jack, is that any way to treat the person who's trying to help you?" The words were faintly mocking, and the tone more patient than Jack had expected.
It took him a moment longer to focus, to see a dimly-lit room beyond ripped bed-curtains. The mirror over the vanity had been shattered, and the perfume bottles that normally cluttered it were gone - likely smashed by the men who'd invaded the house, and killed Jack.
"Master," he whispered, acknowledging the man holding him, relaxing against him a bit.
"That's it." The Master didn't let Jack go yet, his hands still wrapped around his wrists, thumbs rubbing over Jack's pulse-points. "I would have thought you'd learn not to get into fights when I'm otherwise occupied, Jack. What was it this time?"
"I didn't get into a fight." Jack hissed as the Master scraped the edge of a nail over his wrist. "I was in the right place at the right time - or the wrong place at the wrong time, whichever way you want to look at it."
"You were playing hero again, weren't you?" The Master tightened his grip on Jack's wrists, echoing the annoyance in his voice.
Jack tried to pull away, scowling when the Master wouldn't let him. "What was I supposed to do, just walk away?"
The Master sighed, loosening his grip after a moment. "I doubt you could." He let one wrist go, curling his fingers around Jack's jaw to turn his face where he could study the expression on it a moment. "What was it this time?"
Jack gritted his teeth a moment, glaring at him. "I was going to visit Georgette. Someone had broken in, attacked some of the girls. He didn't like being told to go pick on someone else."
"Hmm." The Master held Jack's gaze with a cool expression, blue eyes studying him closely before he let Jack go, reaching for a glass on the table beside the bed. "She didn't take too kindly to finding you in the hallway with a hole in your skull. Nor to the suggestion that you would be just fine, given a bit of time."
Jack winced, taking the glass held out to him. He looked up when there was a tentative knock on the half-open door, and saw Georgette peering around the edge of the door.
"So, he was right." She studied Jack, without coming further into the room. "How is it possible?"
"I don't know." Jack used the bedpost to haul himself to his feet, unsteady on his feet for a moment. He held Georgette's gaze steadily. "There are some theories, but I don't know what happened to me to make me the way I am. I just... I can't die."
Georgette watched him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. "You were dead, Jack. That man shot you, killed you. And now you're walking around again." She tightened her grip on the doorframe, her knuckles whitening under the pressure she was putting on them. "It's not natural."
"No, it's not." Jack sighed, leaning against the bed-post. "Give me a bit, and I'll go..."
"No." Georgette shook her head. "You don't have to."
She drew in a deep breath, the effort it took her to let go of the doorframe and walk across the room visible. Reaching out a hesitant hand, she almost jerked back as her fingertips touched the fabric of his shirt. Another deep breath, and she slowly flattened her hand out over his chest, right over his heart.
"It's not..." Georgette trailed off, looking up at him, pressing her lips together over the word that hung between them.
Jack lifted a hand to press over hers, a half-smile curling up one corner of his mouth. "That's me, an impossible thing."
"Not a thing, Jack." Georgette pulled her hand free, raising it to cup his cheek instead. "No matter what that old man tells you, never a thing. You may not be... human, not the way I understand it, but you are still a person." She pressed a finger against his lips when he opened his mouth to protest, adding, "I have to believe that, Jack."
The Master cleared his throat, drawing their attention to where he stood at the end of the bed, now. He met Jack's eyes with a glint in them that Jack would have thought to be jealousy, if he didn't know better.
"We were going to have dinner tonight, Jack. Before you got into this little scuffle," the Master reminded him, voice underlaid with a hint of steel. "I expect you'll need a quick wash, if not a change of clothes - and soon, if we're to even make it to the restaurant before it closes."
"Yeah." Jack sighed, leaning his head back against the bed. "Just give me a moment."
"Cold bastard," Georgette muttered, with a flash of anger in her eyes before she softened and looked back to Jack, "Do you need anything? I can send a girl to fetch you a drink or something."
"I'll be fine." Jack leaned forward to kiss her temple a moment, before giving her a bit of a grin. "Just need to clean up a bit. Can't head off looking like I've just been at the wrong end of a fight."
The Master snorted softly, turning for the door. "Don't be too long, Jack."
"I won't be," Jack snapped back at him.
He almost ignored the brief hitch in the Master's stride, the fleeting sense of gathering electricity in the air before the Time Lord stepped out of the room, and took it with him.
"I've got to go, sweetheart." Jack gave Georgette a quick smile. "I'll stop by tomorrow, see how you and the girls are doing. Promise."
"If you're sure." Georgette didn't appear convinced, but she gave him a soft, weary smile. "Try not to get shot again. I'll already have a devil of a time explaining this one." The kiss she left on his forehead lingered a bit longer, but she did let him move away from the bed.
"I'm sure." Jack paused, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. "I can't leave him on his own, Georgette. I don't know what would happen if I did. Just... trust me on that, will you?" He gave her a reassuring smile before following the Master out the door.
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Date: 2008-04-29 08:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-04-29 01:03 pm (UTC)