for rude_not_ginger Terra Novus: Outpost 7

[quitehomoerotic]

Follows this.

Smack.

Jack landed on the marbled floor with an unceremonious fall.

"Yeah, but you missed it," he said finishing the sentiment the Doctor started before he activated the manipulator.

He pulled himself up from the floor and stretched himself out, looking over to the Doctor to make sure he was okay and all in one piece.

"We're about 800 years to the left," he said as he checked his wrist strap. "Set it on random, thought it'd be more fun that way."

He grinned over at him, and stretched his neck out a little more as he looked around.

What he saw, was nothing short of spectacular.

The walls looked to be made of stone and were decorated with gargoyles and elaborate gold filigree flourishes. Ahead of them, up on the wall, was a vast round glass stain window. Small lights illuminated it around the circle, but just about visible through the other side was the vague starlight in the distance. They were still in space, not on a planet surface.

"Well this is new... what is this, some sort of space monastery?"

Comments

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"I know what it means!" Jack snapped a little. Of course he knew what it meant. And he'd probably spent much more time around native speakers than this man, thank you very much.

"How should I know?" he added, waving his hands slightly. "He wasn't used to being spoken to as though someone was a superior, demanding information. He didn't want to become used to it either.

"I just got here," he said, "you saw that."

He let out a huff though, as if it was a great effort to assist at all. But despite the show of it, assist he did. He lifted his wrist strap and opened it up, looking at it.

"It looks like there's no-- No, wait..." he frowned as he looked at it, that was odd, why hadn't he picked up on it before? "There is something. Some sort of temporal distortion, and not very long ago. Right here."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"Temporal distortion."

The Doctor waved a hand. "No, that was me. My ship, coming through, she tears little holes in space for a very brief amount of time. Probably leaking time radiation. No, no, this is something different. Something's changed."

What was it? What altered?

He leaned forward, putting his hands to his knees. He felt oddly nauseated, like he'd been traveling without a capsule recently. Idiotic idea, of course. He never flew by any means other than TARDIS, unless absolutely necessary.

"How did you get here?" he asked, straightening.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Your ship tears holes in space and lets out time radiation?" Jack pulled a face, far from impressed. "Perhaps it's time you thought about getting a new ship!"

But that'd be a ridiculous idea, wouldn't it? He was sure it would, even though he wasn't sure why. He was sure too, that his words were vaguely insulting, though that was never the intention, and he couldn't really for the life of him think why they would be.

"None of your business," he said, straightening up his back a little and crossing his arms over his chest. Why in the universe should he tell some guy he doesn't know that he's got a... "vortex manipulator."

Okay, that's a bit odd. He was quite sure he hadn't intended to tell him. It was almost as though telling him was more natural than not.

He tapped his wrist strap as if for emphasis and nodded, "top of the range."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"Ugh," the Doctor said, shaking his head. "Can't stand them. Time travel without a capsule's a killer."

And that's what it felt like. Like he'd just been pulled inside out through a vortex of time. Like he'd stood too long at the doors of the TARDIS in flight.

"And my ship happens to be a brilliant piece of technology," he added, defensively. "Time radiation only leaks during dire emergencies, but it could explain the temporal distortion."

Unless...unless there was something the Doctor was missing.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"What, and you're the expert on it are you?" Jack scoffed a little, and moved his wrist strap away, standing with his arms hooked behind his back.

"So if your ship is so fantastic," he asked, "where is it? Because I don't see any ship. All I see is you, me, a hell of a lot of grass and that wooden little box ove-- Wait. Wait don't tell me that thing is your ship?" He laughed. It was ridiculous and completely unplausible but at the same time it was somehow completely obvious. Of course it was his ship.

"Oh yeah. Impressive. Really impressive."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"And you don't stand out like a sore thumb, Captain?" the Doctor demanded, more irritated at the insult on the TARDIS than the jibe on his expertise. "That TARDIS has seen more space travel, more universes, and more of time than you ever would."

He expected a swelling of pride from her (she did so like it when he bragged about her brilliance), but instead there was nothing. Nothing but a confused silence.

The Doctor spun around and headed towards the blue box. Why was she silent? Why was she confused? What happened?

He put a hand to her wooden exterior. "What's going on?"

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"So what if I do, Doctor?" he huffed back at him. "At least I do it in style. Served me well enough so far. And you're one to talk! Look at you! Fabric like that hasn't been seen in centuries."

The name of the ship (if you could call it a ship), made him frown. It sounded familiar, though he wasn't sure why. Probably something else he'd heard of once. Nothing important, he was sure.

With a spring in his step, he followed the Doctor. Strange man, but somewhat interesting, and he wanted to know what he was doing.

He leaned against the TARDIS when the Doctor touched it, and he pulled an unimpressed face. "What's going on, I'd say, is that you've lost it. What are you, anyway? Human? Rodraxian? Plutonian?" he shrugged his shoulders, and thought of the most ridiculous species he'd ever heard of to add to the list. "Time Lord?"

He laughed. Now that would be ridiculous.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

The Doctor looked back, raising an eyebrow at Captain Jack as he did. Yes, very funny, that.

He looked back to the TARDIS and gave her a gentle pet. "Something time related's twisted her up inside, she's not communicating the way she should." And, to Captain Jack: "Where did you find that temporal distortion?"

He didn't have time to fool around, so he gestured for the other man to give him his manipulator. "Show me!"

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Communicating?" Jack questioned, keeping the same incredulous look on his face. "What,you've got a sentient box for a ship?"

He laughed and pushed himself back from the TARDIS, but at the same time, completely absently and not at all aware of it, he rubbed his hand gently against the side, as one might do to something that held sentimental value.

He huffed again, "I told you, here, right here. You know I've really got more important things to be doing."

But in truth, he hadn't, so he opened his strap again to take a look. But he paused.

"Oh you have got to be kidding," he laughed. What a ridiculous idea. As if he'd give him his manipulator. He didn't let anyone have it. He didn't let anyone touch it.

"Look, I don't know who the hell you think you are, but trust me, I don't take orders any more. And even if I did, it wouldn't be from you. So if you're wooden box is so impressive, find out for yourself."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

It was strange, but the Doctor felt like the gesture for the man's manipulator might've been going too far. Like he'd been asking for something that was best left with Captain Jack. Stupid thought, of course, why would someone hold sentimental value over a manipulator? Those things rarely worked right on a good day.

"Time has altered somehow, Captain," the Doctor snapped. "My ship is trying to compensate for the changes, and if you know where it started, I need to know that information! I have to help her."

He said the words in a slow, patronizing tone, as though talking to a very annoying child. Which, in a way, is exactly what Jack was.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack did not want to help the Doctor.

Jack did not like the Doctor.

But the Doctor needed to help his ship. The TARDIS, he'd called it. Jack didn't know why, annoyed as he was by this oaf, but he thought that was a good enough reason to help. A very good reason to help. The TARDIS needed him.

"Fine," he sighed heavily. "Doctor. But seriously, leave this to the professionals."

He looked at his wrist strap and began poking away at keys.

"Okay. Some sort of sub space signature; a signal. A transmission, hooked onto a trans-dimension transportation conduit." Huh, well that was strange. And something he didn't particularly want to reveal. The timing seemed to coincide quite nicely with his arrival. Looked as though what it had hooked onto, was his manipulator.

He took a deep breath. "Look," he said, "I deal with this sort of stuff all the time. Why don't you just get in your box and fly off and I'll deal with this, whatever it is."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"Right then, I will," the Doctor said agreeably.

As he did, he slipped on his glasses, reached out for Jack's wrist, and pulled it towards him so he could examine the data himself.

"Well that's not right. Transportation conduit's energy is way off the charts. Considering your skin's not even charred, there's no way you came from far enough to punch that big a hole in the universe." He gave Jack a quick look up and down and, with an unimpressed Hmph, he turned away from him to look up at the sky.

"But something did, and whatever it was, it's disrupted the TARDIS, disrupted time."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack's every fibre bristled as the Doctor took his arm. A very large part of him wanted to retaliate by a well placed smack to the jaw.

But he didn't.

For some reason, he didn't.

He did however, yank his arm back with as much force as he could muster.

"Don't you dare pull a stunt like that again," he said, with a warning tone.

He dusted himself down a little and straightened himself out, and smirked slightly. "Oh is that so?" He could have been charred. Could have been burned to bits, but it wouldn't show. But this fool wouldn't know that, of course.

"You know you've really got a flair for the dramatic," Jack said as he clipped the cover back down on his wrist strap. It didn't seem to fit as snugly as usual, and he glanced to it, and noticed the small chip on the side. It wasn't usually there, he was sure. He didn't recognise it. Had it been there before the Doctor took his arm? Was it a little sleight of hand?

"Did you do this?" he demanded, showing him the Marquis-tracking chip.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"It's got to be something else, something I'm missing. Something that's off with the timelines. But, by changing, I wouldn't remember. Well, not here anyway. Need to be somewhere fixed." Hadn't he just been somewhere fixed? Nah, not since Mars, really. Eye-opening experience, that.

Jack's voice, like an annoying buzz, broke him from his theories. He turned and looked down at the wrist strap. The small chip did look like something out of the TARDIS's interior computers. And it was blinking, strangely.

"No," the Doctor said. "No, I don't know what that is." He snorted, and then started rummaging through his pockets. "Hold on, I've got Zeus plugs, they should remove it."

He fumbled through his pockets for a moment, pulling out a banana, psychic paper, a bit of twine, his key, a cobbled-together device he didn't recognize but probably did something like turn on the toaster, and---

"Ow!" He hissed, bringing his finger to his mouth. Blood. He'd cut himself. He reached into his pocket gingerly, pulling out two tiny, spitfire-shaped cufflinks with tiny pointed edges.

"Where did you come from?"

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Yeah well it wasn't there before you put your grubby little hands all over me!" Jack continued to protest.

At the idea of removing it, though, he pulled his arm back yet again. No, that was a bad idea. He didn't know why it was, but he just felt it was and besides he didn't want this man messing around with his manipulator. He could do that himself thank you very much.

"No," he said, "you're all right. I've got it." And he pushed back the sides of his great coat, slipping his hands into his trouser pockets.

He didn't answer the Doctor's question. Why the hell should he? But he did frown as he saw what was in his hands.

"Where did you get those?"

They were his. They were definitely his, he'd remember them anywhere, he'd had them a good 30 years at least.

"What are you, some intergalactic pick pocket?"

In his own pocket, his hand closed around something small and cool. Metalic. It wasn't familiar. He'd look at it when he'd got rid of the Doctor.

"Okay," he said, annoyed, "I've had enough of this. Who the hell are you?"

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"Not this time around, no," the Doctor said. He didn't even use cuff links. Why were they in his pocket. Specifically, in the pocket he kept sentimental things like Susan's wedding band, Reinette's letter, and Martha's hair pin. They were shiny and pretty, but not the sort of thing the Doctor would pick up. Certainly not the sort of thing he could keep.

"I told you," he said, looking over the edge of the tiny pins. "I'm the Doctor."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack looked at the Doctor and at the cuff links in his hand. He tried to make sense of it. If the Doctor had stolen them then he was being a rather brilliant liar. And he wasn't lying, Jack could tell that. He knew that. Maybe something in his eyes, a confusion or a concern.

"Those are mine," he said, as he watched him look at them. "So, Doctor. If you're not a pick pocket. Question is, what're you doing with my cuff links?"

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"No idea." He said the words casually, but he wasn't about to give them up right away. How had he gotten them? Some strange moment of time that was missing, now? Some transdimensional error that transplanted them into his pocket? Lucky it didn't transplant them further into his hip or stomach instead.

He held them out for Jack to take.

"Here."

If nothing else, maybe he'd see time reverse when he took them back. Maybe he'd see what he was missing.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Good.

Good. Give them back. So he should. They were his after all. Not the Doctor's.

So why was it that the act seemed to form an unpleasant lump in the pit of his stomach. So much so that he hesitated to take them at all.

He did take them though, after a moment and a brief pause for internally chiding himself for being so peculiar.

"Thanks," he said a little quieter. "Old friend bought me these. They're Spitfires. Used to fly them, back in an old war." He stopped himself from going on. He didn't need to share personal details with this man.

Glancing up at him again, as he deposited the cuff links into his pocket, he frowned. "Have I met you before?" That niggling familiarity just wouldn't go away.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"Maybe. In the future. Which could always be the past, when you're me." Timey-wimey being what it was. Things rarely made sense on a chronological pattern, everything for the Doctor was like crazy paving. All he had were his memories. And something had changed them. He couldn't see how, he didn't know why, but something was wrong.

He gave the TARDIS another gentle pat, and then turned to the Captain.

"Now. We need to find out why that thing on your wrist is going off, shouldn't we?"

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Oh, trust me," Jack said with a half laugh, "I know how that is." He'd spent most of his life trapped in the past. Trapped on a planet and a time that wasn't his own. He used to play games with time, running back and forth and using it to his advantage. But not any more. He was older now, and tired. Too tired for games.

"What? And you think you'll be able to work it out do you?" He shot him a disbelieving look and opened his wrist strap to look at the chip again.

On closer inspection he could see it had been attached well, and it appeared almost delicately. The sort of care he'd take himself, but then there was no way he'd put this thing here.

"Well go on then," he said, "answers on a postcard."

He looked around the field and he bristled again. He had the distinct impression he should be somewhere else. Anywhere else. So for once, he wouldn't argue too much.

"Yeah," he said, "come on, lets find that town, maybe we can get some answers there."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"Good! Finally listening to me. Right! Now, let's start at a brisk pace, due north."

With one last look to the TARDIS, the Doctor gave Captain Jack a nod and started racing away, running towards where the nearest town should be.

It was strange, but as he ran, he felt like he'd done this before. He felt like he'd not known Captain Jack before. Stupid thing to think. This whole situation was stupid. He should've just left, he was still running from the Ood. From his own death, from the knocking.

But he couldn't leave Jack and the mystery of what was missing in time behind, could he? Of course not.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Oh and I should listen to you should I?" Jack rolled his eyes, and didn't follow at first. He didn't follow people. He didn't work with people (any more). He didn't actually do a great deal of anything at all other than move from place to place and pretend he was fine.

But then, after barely a pause, he found himself running behind the Doctor. Running with the Doctor. And it felt good, too, the running. It felt good to run with someone. It felt good to run at all.

The grass peaked up over a hill and as they reached the top the valley below opened up and the buildings of the town were visible just a short distance away.

A chimney from a building smoked away and outside a board displayed rolling news.

"There," Jack said, pointing it out. "Looks like somewhere we can hold up."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"For the moment," the Doctor agreed. He wasn't even remotely winded. He felt rejuvinated, actually. It had been too long since he'd traveled with anyone. Not since Rose, Mickey, Martha, Sarah Jane and---

Sarah Jane and---

He felt a wave of dizziness, and he leaned over, gasping for breath. Jackie. That's right. Traveling with Jackie. Bit idiotic, letting her steer the TARDIS, but he didn't have enough people without her. And it felt like a proper family, didn't it?

Not since then, and never again.

He straightened up.

"Wherever that news is coming from, I should be able to reconfigure the links, get information streaming directly in, figure out where the signal from that temporal distortion came from."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

As the Doctor slumped forward Jack felt the automatic worry that he'd only expect to feel for someone he cared about. He didn't care about the Doctor, not really. He made a point of not caring for people easily any more. It was better that way.

But still, he reached his arm forward and touched his fingers gently to the other man's back. "You good?" he asked before patting his back gently and moving his hand away.

"Come on," he said, tone a little more gentle than that which he'd been using so far. "We'll get in there, work it out. Maybe get something to eat too." He wasn't sure how long it had been since he'd eaten, but by the way his stomach twisted, he guessed it had been a while. That and the Doctor obviously needed to.

"So you're quite the technological hack then, I take it?" he asked, walking down the hill towards the building.