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]

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.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"Hack?" the Doctor said, giving the man a disgusted look. "I prefer to think of myself as a genius."

He was grateful to feel his hand away. That feeling of wrongness, it felt like he should know what it was, but he didn't. All he knew was that it was wrong. Wrong and sickening.

"Nah, think I'll be all right on the food department," he said. After all, he ate something on Christmas Planet, didn't he? That was why it took so long to get down the lift. The wave of temporal distortion hit him again and he stumbled forward, towards Jack.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"And so modest too!" Jack said with a laugh. There weren't many people Jack would regard as genuises. Some of the people he'd worked with, maybe. Them and of course th--

"Woah!"

He reached out automatically and caught hold of the Doctor. "Careful there, tiger," he said as he took hold of him.

His arm wrapped tightly around the Doctor's back and he gestured for the Doctor to do the same. A firm grip, taking control of the situation.

"Well you need something," he stressed. "Come on, lets get you sitting down. I'll get you a warm drink or something. You look like you could do with it."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"No, just---"

He caught Jack's shoulder. It had been a long time since anyone had caught him, since anyone had cared to catch him. Not since---

Bess, wasn't it?

Another wave hit him, and he clung to Jack a little tighter. Where was this coming from? What was he doing that was triggering it?

"Yeah, sit down, might not be such a bad idea."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Just nothing," Jack said. "Now hold on, you got me, yeah?"

Jack was determined to find out what this was. Whatever was attacking the Doctor. Jack was fiercely protective over the people that mattered to him and-- well it wasn't that the Doctor mattered to him, but he liked him. No he didn't like him as such but-- no, no maybe he did.

Either way, he wanted to see him okay. He really knew that.

With a tight grip he supported the Doctor and manoeuvred the pair of them over to the building. But as they reached it, he saw that apart from the scrolling newsplate outside, the lights were off, and the building was in darkness.

"Great," he said. "Closed. Well there's got to be someone inside. Just you hold on, okay?"

He raised his hand and knocked his fist against the door.

Knocked his fist four times.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"No, don't!"

The Doctor reached out, blocking the last knock with the flat of his hand. It stung, but the knock was prevented. He leaned against the door, breathing heavily.

"Don't knock. Three is enough. It's all right, I just need to catch my breath." It was hard, and he couldn't figure out why. Something drastic must've changed. Something serious.

"Time is compensating for something," he said. "I don't know what, but I'm too time sensitive to handle its change."

Why was he telling Jack this? He couldn't trust him, he didn't even know him!

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

By all rights, Jack should have thought this Doctor man was nothing short of crazy. But at the same time, he wanted to help him. He didn't want to just leave him and move on and deal with something more important, because for some reason, this man was important.

"It's okay," he said, putting a hand to the Doctor's arm. "We'll work it out, okay? Trust me, I'm an old dab hand at this stuff. Just hold onto me and you'll be fine, I promise. Time sort of... works a little differently around me, it might help, I don't know." Or maybe it was causing it? He hoped not.

And that was strange. His being different wasn't something he discussed. It wasn't something he told people, and certainly not strangers.

He turned his head and caught sight of a bench a few feet away. "Come on," he nodded and supported him to move over to sit down.

"That's better," he said as he lowered him to sitting. "I need to check for distortions. If time is changing something, I won't feel it, I can't feel it, so I need you to help me here, okay? You got that?" He didn't think he'd feel it. As he said, time worked differently around him. It didn't tend to react in the usual fashion.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

The Doctor fell back onto the bench. Time kept swirling around, but there was something else. Something bigger was coming, something bigger was changing time.

But he couldn't figure out what. It was like everything that might've told him what to expect was suddenly no longer in his mind. And a Time Lord without his memories was nothing.

He watched Jack for a moment before he spoke.

"You're fixed," he said. "That's impossible."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Well that was remarkably perceptive. Jack was surprised the Doctor knew. Thrown. But he didn't let it show. Didn't pause or move but to glance his eyes toward his face briefly.

"Yep," he said in response, ducking down squatting in front of the Doctor, so he was the same height, his hands still out holding the Doctor's arms. He knew he was fixed, of course. A fact he'd been called by that specialist. By that doctor.

"A fixed point in space and time, that's me," he grinned at him, recalling what he'd been told "And I specialise in impossible."

He reached one hand and touched it to the Doctor's forehead to check for a temperature. Nothing, in fact a little cool. But that was normal, or he supposed it might be normal.

As he moved his arm again, the little chip in his wrist strap started to bleep. It made him frown, but he'd deal with that later. He needed to look after the Doctor now.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"How?" the Doctor asked. "There've been...billions of attempts to fix a person or place to time, but none have been successful. Not like you."

He cringed back from Jack's touch. He was so utterly wrong. It was so nauseating, so disgusting. Fixed people didn't work, they didn't make sense, they weren't natural.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Long story." Jack said with an air of finality. Like he didn't want to explain. But despite that, he continued talking. "It was an accident. Something happened to me. Long time ago. I don't recommend it."

He was vague on the details of how and why, and if asked he'd have said that was because it was none of his business, but in truth he was... not quite sure. Stupid, really, completely stupid considering it was one of the most important things to have happened to him. But it was just... hazy.

"You know you could hurt a guy's feelings doing that," he said, remarking on the Doctor's shifting from him. He moved up and sat himself on the bench beside the Doctor.

"How can you tell?" he asked. "Nobody can ever tell. I've never met anyone who could."