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wintercompanion2011-07-18 12:12 am
wojelah.livejournal.com) wrote in wintercompanion2011-07-18 12:12 am
firefly124: Wherever I May Roam (Jack/Nine, Jack/Eleven) [PG13]
Title: Wherever I May Roam
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
firefly124
Challenge: Summer Holidays 3
Pairing: Jack/Nine, Jack/Eleven
Rating: PG13 for language
Spoilers/warnings: Spoilers through “Boom Town” with allusions to Jack's later timeline, including a character from Torchwood S2. Well, and Eleven's appearance. (What can I say? With the Doctor and Jack, things have to get at least a little timey-wimey.)
Summary: It was supposed to be a simple stop to pick up supplies at the famed market of Avicephalon.
Prompt: copper 28 awe leather
Bogdysjji just couldn't sleep anymore. The lady was going to frown when he told her, but he just couldn't help it. He looked at the comm panel, but it was day twenty-eight. The night watch at this end of the lunar cycle didn't like when he called just to talk. It would be several days before the nice night watch was on again. He sighed and ran a tentacle over his thinning hair. Maybe a walk? The lady would frown about taking a walk this late, but he had to do something.
The night air was pleasant, even with the faint breeze lending a chill to it. Bogdysjji decided that once around the hexahedron should be enough to tire himself out but shouldn't bother his lower tentacles much. Thoptrices chirped and clicked, a summer symphony. Bogdysjji was glad he'd woken up. He liked music, and this was too pretty to sleep through.
The breeze shifted, smelled coppery, and there was a new sound. Not a thoptrix. More of a grunt, like an injured mammal. Maybe a canine. Bogdysjji liked canines. If there was one hurt and he brought it home to take care of, nobody could take it away from him. Not if he was helping it get better. That wouldn't be right. He turned to follow the scent and sound. It led down a narrow passage between buildings, the kind the lady told him never to wander into. But of course that's were a hurt little canine would go. Except now that he was closer, he didn't think it was little, and it didn't sound much like a canine.
Bogdysjji couldn't see it until he got right on top of it. Nope, not a canine. It was a mammal though, the kind that stood on only two of its legs. Only it wasn't standing very well. More like leaning against the wall and still not too steady. Bogdysjji always wondered how they managed with only two anyway. He always wobbled like this one was doing when he tried it. Its upper legs were wrapped around its waist though, and Bogdysjji thought that was where the coppery smell was coming from. It seemed to be leaking. The mammal looked up.
“Whoa,” it said. “Guess I'm in worse shape than I thought if I'm hallucinating. Still, you look like you could make it fun while I last. What do you say?”
“You talk,” Bogdysjji said. “And you're hurt.”
“Pretty observant for a hallucination. Yeah, you could say I need a Doctor.” It made a wet sort of sucking noise. “Too bad I lost mine.”
It wasn't quite what Bogdysjji had had in mind, but it was still an injured mammal that needed help. And one that could talk too. Maybe it would stay and keep him company if he helped it get better. “You should come home with me. I have a box for fixing up, and I took a class at the center on taking care of mammals. Smaller ones though.”
“Um.”
“And a lady comes in the morning. She's good at finding doctors. She found me one when my tentacles hurt, and a different one when I couldn't eat.”
“I'm not sure if that sounds like I'm going to end up dinner or a pet, but someplace other than this alley to spend the night sounds like a good idea. And if that fixing-up box has bandages in it, that would help.” It unwrapped one of its limbs and extended it. “Captain Jack Harkness. And you are?”
“Bogdysjji.”
The mammal had to try a couple of times to say it correctly, even though it spoke perfect Cephalic. Strange. Maybe the mammal was still a youngling. Hard to tell with mammals.
It took three of Bogdysjji's upper tentacles to help the mammal back home, and it seemed to have trouble figuring out how to do simple things like open the fixing-up box. Bogdysjji wasn't sure if that was because it was hurt or because its hands split into tiny bits at the end. Between the two of them, though, they managed to get the wound on its body cleaned and covered.
After that, it was a bit difficult getting it settled into the guest bed. Mammals were just too bony to fit into things properly. If Bogdysjji got to keep it, he'd have to find out what sort of bed was meant for a mammal like this one. And what they ate. It had choked down the crustacean mash, but the contortions on its face suggested that was not what it liked, even though it said it was just fine.
Finally, Bogdysjji poured himself into his own bed. Maybe now he'd be tired enough to get a decent night's sleep.
~*~
Jack woke up slowly, like climbing out of a pit full of mud with only his fingers for pinions. It was no big deal for him to wake up in an unfamiliar bed, though it was slightly unusual for him to do so alone. The midnight flight was his role, after all. But these days, even that didn’t happen so often, and he woke up in his own room in the TARDIS fairly regularly. Almost regularly enough to call it home.
This was definitely not the TARDIS.
The sharp pain in his side when he tried to move reminded him where he was and why he was here. He and the Doctor and Rose had had to split up to confuse their pursuers, and he’d ended up shot. He hoped they’d fared better. And then the elderly Cephalid had found him in that alley and brought him home like a stray puppy with promises that “the lady” would fix everything in the morning.
A look up at the window confirmed it was morning. He wondered if “the lady” would have a way he could try to contact the Doctor. They really needed a better system for situations like this. The Doctor and Rose could be anywhere, and while Rose had a mobile phone, the Doctor didn't have any sort of portable communications device. Besides, who knew what had happened to them after they'd split up? If Jack had got himself shot, what trouble might they have run into?
At any rate, whoever this “lady” was, Jack had his doubts she'd be as helpful as Bogdysjji seemed to think. More likely she’d try to ship him off to some local doctor, or perhaps their equivalent of a vet. At this point, if said vet knew enough human biology to make sure he wasn’t going to go into septic shock before this thing healed, or maybe even had a human-compatible dermal regenerator, Jack would be entirely willing to go along with it. So long as he got to leave and find the Doctor after.
He tried not to think about what sort of rescuing might be needed. Time enough for that once he got himself sorted.
“Oh, Bodg..., what have you brought home this time?” a voice drifted in from the other room. “I told you, you’re not allowed pets in this flat.”
Oh, now that was rich, Jack thought. The TARDIS’ translation circuits must be having trouble with this language, because in no sane universe could this domicile be described as remotely “flat.” It was clearly designed to cater to Cephalid anatomy, as of course it would be. Why this meant everything had to be all curvy, including the floor, he wasn’t quite sure, but it seemed to work for Bodgy.
And then there was the matter of being called a pet. Not something he entirely minded, of course, in the right context. He was pretty sure that wasn't what she'd meant though.
“Well, of course it was injured,” the voice continued. “Knocking around that part of the city at that hour. Which brings me to my next question: what were you doing out halfway through the night cycle?”
The voices were getting closer, and now Jack could make out Blogdy’s replies. Something about being unable to sleep and the music of the insects. They’d mostly sounded annoying to Jack, but then, there was the whole gaping wound thing distracting him.
The two Cephalids entered the room where Jack was curled up in an uncomfortably cup-shaped piece of furniture. He took in the rather formidable-looking “lady” warily. She didn’t look like someone it would be easy to sweet talk. Oh, he could do it, at least, he was sure he could on his better days. It’d be a bit more of a challenge right now when he really wasn’t at his best. She didn’t seem the sort to respond favorably to the idea that he needed saving, but on the other hand, he was in no position to offer, well, anything.
Not that he'd ever let that stop him before.
“Good morning!” he called out cheerily. “Captain Jack Harkness here, and who are you?”
“It speaks with an odd inflection,” the female Cephalid noted.
“It talks funny sometimes too,” Bogdysjji said.
“I'd greet you properly,” Jack continued, “except I'm having a slight problem here.”
He lifted his arm and didn't bother to try to hide the wince of pain that accompanied the movement. He could really do with the TARDIS' medical bay right about now.
“It really is badly injured,” the female said. “You shouldn't have tried to patch it up yourself. I know we tell you not to contact the office in the middle of the night so often, but for this, you really should have called.”
“Didn't I fix it right?” Bogdysjji asked.
“I'm not sure,” the female said.
“He said he needed to find a doctor.”
“Not a doctor. The Doctor,” Jack corrected. “Bipedal like me. And Rose.”
“It is correct that it needs medical attention,” the female said. “However, it is also asking for flowers. It is probably delirious.”
Jack sighed. This wasn't getting him anywhere.
“Fine. Take me wherever. Just please hurry so I can find them.”
Things had improved between the three of them since Cardiff, since before then really, but Jack knew the Doctor still had doubts about him. Couldn't blame him, really. He didn't think he could stand it if the Doctor thought he'd taken off and left him and Rose to fend for themselves.
“If it's payment that's a problem,” Jack added, “I can assure you, you'll be well compensated.”
Well, they would be if he could get some of that sonicked-up credit the Doctor was so fond of providing—and how was that so much different than conning it out of people?--and if he couldn't, well, he'd skipped out on bills before. He didn't like to think of doing it now, but if push came to shove, he still knew he could.
“We'll just bring it down to the medics on Fort Way and see what they can do,” the female said. “But I don't want you to get your hopes up. It might be too badly injured to help.”
Jack really hoped she was wrong about that. As long as they could keep him alive until the Doctor found him, or until he could limp along to find the Doctor, more likely, he was sure he'd be fine.
~*~
It probably didn't do to accuse your companions of wandering off when it was you that had ordered them to split up in the first place. Still, it was very annoying trying to round them back up again.
Rose, at least, he'd finally found. And while she'd made a fuss about it, he'd managed to give her some make-work to do in the TARDIS to keep her contained while he searched for the Captain. Oh, nothing that could get her into any trouble, and the TARDIS knew not to let her out.
Well, then again, it was Rose. Jeopardy-friendly Rose.
He'd best get a move on. While the Captain could certainly take care of himself, he really should have reported back to the TARDIS by now.
~*~
It wasn't the strangest hospital Jack had ever seen, nor the smallest. Considering he'd been all over human history in his days with the Time Agency, though, that wasn't saying a whole lot for it.
On the plus side, the xeno-medic seemed much more familiar with humans than either of the two Cephalids that had brought him there. Interestingly, the medic was an Aviddan, same as the gang of thugs that had set on the Doctor, Rose, and Jack at the marketplace. She also seemed to have less use for the Cephalids than for Jack, though it was hard to tell whether this was some sort of speciesism (or possibly bipedalism) or simply a preference for beings that required her services.
She swept a scanner over him and tapped something into it with her delicate, tri-digited hand, and frowned.
“What is it?” Jack asked guardedly. He didn't think the wound was mortal, at least not so long as it didn't get infected.
“How did you say you acquired this injury?” the medic asked.
“I didn't,” he replied. “My friends and I were attacked. I got shot.”
“And they left you?”
“No!” At least, Jack hoped they hadn't. Though it had been nearly a full day-cycle for this planet. It should take longer than that for them to give up on him, right? Besides, the TARDIS was still translating for him, and he was pretty sure they had to be on the same planet for that to work. “We got separated.”
The medic sniffed, clearly realizing she was getting less than half the story. “The projectile missed your primary organs, but it must be removed. Also, I am required by law to report any such injuries to the authorities.”
Jack nodded, then immediately regretted it as the room swam a bit. So long as their attackers hadn't been the authorities—and while they hadn't been on-planet an hour by the time of the attack, that wouldn't be a record for the Doctor inadvertently pissing off the powers that be—that might actually make it easier to reconnect with the Doctor and Rose. They'd go looking for that sort of report, after all.
So long as they hadn't been captured or injured themselves.
“Do you know if there were any reports of other humans, or humanoid in one case, with similar injuries?”
“I can ask.” The medic shrugged. “They will not answer, but if there are, the security forces may recognize the connection.”
Security forces. Not police. That set off warning bells, but before he could ask, the medic was placing a cone-shaped mask over his nose and mouth that conformed itself to fit and saying, “Just breathe normally.”
Whatever the mask contained, it was good stuff. Jack's abdomen stopped hurting almost immediately, and shortly thereafter he sank into a restful sleep.
~*~
Scanning for Jack's vortex manipulator wasn't working, and it shouldn't be possible for him to be out of range. Well, so long as he hadn't used it. Interesting that he hadn't, come to think of it. There'd been a few occasions when it would've come in handy, but he used it strictly as a wristcomp. The Doctor would have to find out the reason for that someday.
Today, however, the actinurium concentrations on this planet were interfering with his sonic screwdriver, limiting the radius he could scan to hardly more than he could manage with his eyes alone. There was nothing for it, then, but to head back to the market and see if there was any sort of trail he could follow that would tell him where the lad might have ended up. He could just ask, of course. Bipedal mammals tended to stand out a bit on a world populated by Aviddans and Cephalids, what with the lack of tentacles or feathers. Problem was, he wasn't entirely sure that would be a wise idea. He still wasn't sure what their attackers had been about in the first place. It clearly wasn't a simple case of “rob the tourists,” or they wouldn't have started shooting.
Oh well. When had he ever relied on going with the “wise idea”? Clever almost always suited his purposes better, so he waltzed up to the first booth in the Aviddan market and started asking questions.
~*~
Bogdysjji hadn't been able to stay and watch what the xeno-medic did for the mammal, though he had been interested to learn it was called a hyoomun. He thought he'd heard about them before, but he was almost certain the mediavid had showed them with lots more hair.
After all his appointments and sessions were done for the day, though, he was free to do as he pleased, so Bogdysjji took a tramcar across town to the xeno-medic's office to find out how his hyoomun was doing. The lady wouldn't be pleased. He was supposed to save those credits to pay some boring bill he'd racked up years ago. Bogdysjji thought that would be a waste. The bill wasn't going anywhere, but the hyoomun might, and he didn't want that to happen.
It was only a few hours until night when Bogdysjji arrived, and the xeno-medic almost wouldn't let him in.
“But it was me that brought it to you,” he insisted.
“It was your worker that brought it to me,” the medic replied. “You just found it, that's all. At any rate, the visiting period is over, and it needs to rest.”
Bogdysjji wasn't sure if she was telling the truth about the visiting times. If they were always in the middle of the day, when people were at work and school and appointments and things, no one would ever visit anybody. No, the medic didn't seem to like Bogdysjji, and he couldn't figure out why. He'd never done anything to her. He'd never even met her before today, and he'd brought her a hyoomun to fix up. She'd seemed to like that, anyway.
“I won't wake it up,” he said. “I just want to see that it's okay.”
With a sigh much like the one the lady sometimes gave, the medic opened the door to the treatment area. “You can look. No noise though. I told you, it needs to rest.”
The hyoomun was indeed sleeping. It made noises sometimes though, and one of them sounded like “doctor.” It had asked for one before, but Bogdysjji hadn't really thought about it. Didn't it know it would need a xeno-medic and not a doctor? Maybe it was hurt in the head and thought it was a Cephalid. It had said some pretty strange things last night, come to think of it. Bogdysjji found himself wondering if that meant it would need a lady to check in on it too. Maybe Bogdysjji could share his lady with it. That would be nice.
The medic closed the door too quickly.
“Now, go home and don't bother me anymore.”
“I'm coming back tomorrow,” Bogdysjji said. “And I'll come during the visiting period.”
The medic sniffed and turned her back to do whatever it was she had been doing when Bogdysjji had arrived. He fished around in his pouch and found enough credits for a tramcar home. He'd have to walk tomorrow, but that was okay. He didn't have anything else to do.
~*~
The Doctor was getting frustrated. On the one hand, he'd found out why he, Rose, and Jack had been targeted. If he didn't know better, he'd have thought they'd landed a century or so earlier than he'd aimed for, well before the Aviddans and Cephalids had resolved their differences. As it was, they seemed to be well behind where they ought to be, reminiscent of the delays they'd seen on Satellite 5. Nothing here suggested that something like the Jagrafess was involved, though it could be some other interference. Who would stand to gain by keeping the two dominant species at odds?
The Second Great and Bountiful Human Empire had only just started to reach quite this far yet, mostly from the occasional, adventurer, but there was at least some awareness of humanity's spread, not to mention their proclivity for “dancing” with the aliens they encountered along the way. On a planet where even contact between species was strained and interbreeding was so unthinkable they didn't even bother to have a punishment for it … well.
The Doctor was a bit annoyed at having been mistaken for human, but that was about as significant as a gnat-bite next to the fact that he hadn't found a single lead to where Jack might be. The lad was capable enough, but the fact that he hadn't found some way to make contact suggested he'd got in over his head. Given his perpetual flirting and the local climate, that was almost a guarantee, actually.
It had seemed like a routine mugging though, at first. Well, at least until they'd pulled out the blasters. Something about this whole mess smelled wrong. He'd find out what it was eventually, he was sure of it. First, though, he had to find the captain, and without any other leads to go on, he might as well start with the obvious.
“So, let's say, for example, an offworlder like one of us were to be injured,” the Doctor said to the Aviddan vendor, “where would they go? You may not get many humans, but you clearly get plenty of other species who come here for trade.”
“There are a few xeno-medics,” the golden-feathered Aviddan said. “They're very expensive though. You think your friend was injured?”
“I hope not.” At least, the Doctor thought, the captain had plenty of currency on him, if it hadn't been stolen. And if anyone could talk his way out of a bill, it'd be Jack. So long as he didn't try to do it by seducing the medic. “So, where might I find one of your xeno-medics?”
The vendor gave a set of directions that would have completely bewildered anyone of a species that didn't have near-perfect recall. Good thing the Doctor didn't have that problem.
The problem he did have was that the nearest xeno-medical office was on the complete opposite side of the city, oddly distant from the market where one might actually need it, and bordering on the neighboring Cephalid township. That probably made it a dodgy neighborhood, and to go by the Aviddan's tone in describing it, that was probably a reasonable assessment. Probably exactly the sort of place the captain would end up.
Well, he could either walk or he could take one of the tramcars. Going back and taking the TARDIS was out of the question. Rose would never let him leave her in there a second time while he went after Jack, and he didn't want to be worrying about both of them. As it was, she was probably already getting impatient, having worked out that the actinurium deposits—well, she might not work out that part, but at least she'd realize it was something—were interfering with the TARDIS' scanners too. Tricky stuff, actinurium. Only one row up from dalekanium on the Gallifreyan Periodic Table, and even knowing they'd polished off the very last Dalek escapee from the Time War back on Earth didn't keep a shudder from making its way down the Doctor's spine at the thought.
Never mind, enough of that. He might not be fond of public transport—great idea overall, just not when you're in a hurry to save the world or at least your friends—but it was the best way to get across town, so he made his way to the transit point, keeping his eyes open for clues along the way. Clues to where Jack might be for one, but clues to just why this world was stuck in its own past for another. The way his days generally went, there was probably a connection, after all.
~*~
It was dark when Jack woke up, but not so dark that he couldn't tell where he was. Still at the medic's place, apparently, but alone now. Carefully, he sat up and realized he was naked except for the dressing on his abdomen. Pressing his hand against it gingerly, he could tell it was in better shape than earlier, but it was going to hurt for awhile. He thought about pulling it back to try and determine whether the medic had used a dermal regenerator or just stitches, but thought better of it. He could hardly see, and poking around at wounds was usually a bad idea once they'd been dealt with.
Flipping open his wristcomp, he chanced a quick scan and was startled to realize he was alone in the building. Clambering off the table-like bed he'd been on, he checked the door.
Locked in.
Well, that wouldn't be much of a problem. If he could get a little light, he could probably find something to pick the lock with.
Feeling his way about, he found a pile of clothes that seemed to be his, right down to the completely ruined shirt. He put on what was salvageable and left the shirt. Good thing it was warm on this planet. A bit more exploring yielded a torch of sorts and some surgical implements that worked quite nicely to get the door open.
The main exit was even easier, as it wasn't meant to keep anyone in. He could even lock it behind him, which he was sort of inclined to do. The medic had helped him out, after all.
That thought gave him pause, and Jack pulled the credit stick from his pocket. Too bad there wasn't a way to just leave part of it. He didn't know what he might need money for once he hit the streets. Then again, he'd always been able to get money when he needed it, and he wasn't sure who was planning to pay the medic, if at all, for patching him up. With a shrug, he left it on a counter top where it should be found when she returned in the morning.
What a change. He'd never have done that before London. With a little smile, he thought of the Doctor's reaction if he knew. The smile faded as he turned his mind to finding the Doctor and Rose.
Not looking back, he went through the door and locked it quietly behind him. One good thing was that, if they weren't in a situation similar to his, they ought to stick out pretty easily.
~*~
Bogdysjji was tired. It had been a long day, and he really hadn't got enough sleep last night. He wasn't quite tired enough to miss the hyoomun on the tramcar though. Nobody missed it, though nobody else seemed as surprised by its appearance as Bogdysjji had been when he'd found his hyoomun last night. Bogdysjji wondered if maybe this one knew his hyoomun. It would be sort of a large coincidence for there to be two around that didn't know each other.
This one was a lot more colorful, wearing some sort of bright red garment. It wasn't paying attention to anyone else on the tramcar, just looking at that thing on its bony arm. Did all hyoomuns have those? It punched its finger at the thing on its arm and screwed up its face strangely.
Bogdysjji started to wonder if he'd fallen asleep after all and was dreaming when another hyoomun got on the tramcar at the next stop. Could he dream three different-looking hyoomuns? The new one was wearing brown where the other was red, and had less fur on its head than either the red one or Bogdysjji's hyoomun. The brown one stared at the red one, looking as surprised by it all as Bogdysjji felt. Everyone was staring at the two mammals now. It was the most interesting thing to happen on the trams in a long time, after all. Probably ever.
The thing on the red one's arm made a funny beeping sound, and the red hyoomun squawked something that sounded like it wanted to be words but wasn't. Maybe this one wasn't as smart as Bogdysjji's hyoomun about talking. The brown one seemed smart, though, because when he walked over to grab the red one, he talked even better than Bogdysjji's.
“Now what, exactly, is a bloke like you doing on a planet like this?” the brown one asked.
The red one squawked some more, and the brown one yanked its arm up to look at the thing it was wearing. Bogdysjji noticed the brown hyoomun didn't have one.
“Well, who are you looking for, then? Seems to me a Time Agent like yourself only gets a reading like that off another Time Agent's vortex manipulator. Two of you pillaging this planet's actinurium and scrambling the timelines?”
The brown one pulled out a silver thing and pointed it at the red one's arm-thing. It glowed blue and made a strange noise that wasn't quite loud enough to drown out the red one's squawking.
“Right then, let's go and see what you lot are up to. High time I got the Agency sorted out anyway.”
The tramcar stopped, and the brown one pulled the red one out the door. Bogdysjji wasn't sleepy anymore, and when he looked out the window, it looked like they were going to go back the other way, in the direction of the xeno-medic's office where Bogdysjji's hyoomun was. Bogdysjji wasn't sure what was going on, but he didn't like the red hyoomun's squawking noises, and he decided he'd best go make sure that they didn't hurt his hyoomun, so he slid out of his seat and through the doors just before they closed. He couldn't quite catch up to the bipeds, so he had to get the tramcar behind theirs. Still, he got a window seat, so he'd be able to tell if they got off.
He'd have a time of it getting home later, as he'd already used the last of his credits, but he could worry about that then. Right now, he was more interested in making sure his hyoomun was safe from the squawky red one and maybe the brown one too.
~*~
The Doctor wasn't sure whether it was good or bad luck that had put him in the same tramcar with the time agent, but for now he was going with “good.” It was very obvious that the man was looking for Jack, and the look on his face when he'd exclaimed over his wrist strap suggested that the Doctor very much did not want this man to find him. At least, not alone. This was probably one of the agents that had stolen Jack's memories, and the Doctor was sure he was involved with whatever was keeping this world so backwards. He was a good liar, but not good enough. He'd flinched when the Doctor mentioned the actinurium, and that was the main resource this planet had that anyone would bother trying to exploit.
He really didn't want to think about why they'd do such a thing or who they'd be selling it to. If the Cephalids and Aviddans hadn't pooled their resources yet to discover how actinurium could be alloyed with other metals to improve the hull quality of spaceships, then there was only one customer the Doctor could think of that would have a use for it, and that was just impossible. But keeping the Cephalids and the Aviddans from uniting to guard their world's resources and become the shrewd traders they were supposed to be known as, oh yes, that would be exactly the sort of thing a rogue time agent might do. Cornering a market like that could be very profitable if it was all timed just right.
“You're not Agency, and you're obviously not local law enforcement.” The agent snorted. “What's it to you then?”
“The Time Agency aren't the only ones trying to keep the timelines in order. In fact, they're one of the reasons people like me need to keep them in order.” The Doctor kept a grip on the man's wrist. Letting him anywhere near that vortex manipulator would be a mistake, but he'd done something to it that made it impossible to remove. He could disable it, of course, but he actually needed it working to find the captain. Funny that it seemed to have such good range. Was there actinurium alloy in the components? Could be. Time enough to worry about that later.
“People like you? Is it the leather that's supposed to scare me or the sonic whatsit? I can't quite tell. People like you. Don't make me laugh.”
The Doctor narrowed his eyes. “Thing is, you're not laughing. That's good. Shows you're not as much of an idiot as you're trying to sound like. Might just be hope for ...”
Suddenly, he shuddered. Something felt wrong. Very wrong. It itched at his skin and made him want to run, but he couldn't tell from what. Just then, the agent's wristcomp bleeped again. The Doctor yanked it up and looked at the readout, which suddenly didn't make any sense.
“Well, that can't be right,” the time agent muttered.
“Not unless … oh, the lad couldn't be that stupid could he? Don't they teach you lot anything at that Time Agency of yours?”
The arm in his grip yanked a bit harder than it had done yet, aided by the fact the tramcar had just jolted to a stop.
“Thought something was off about you,” the agent snapped, a miniature blaster suddenly in his free hand as gasps sounded through the car. Fortunately, the agent paid the mostly-Cephalid passengers no mind. “You're teamed up with him, trying to cut me out.”
Damn. The Doctor hadn't meant to let that slip. And what was it with time agents and the Villengard weaponry? Too bad he was out of bananas.
“That's right, you've found me out. Not as stupid as you look then.” The Doctor looked at the opening tramcar doors and released the man's wrist only to have his own grabbed in turn.
“Obviously not.” The time agent stopped and rethought that. “I mean ...”
“Thing is, we're about to miss our stop.” The Doctor nodded at the doors. He had to get this maniac off this crowded conveyance before he got any more nervous than he already was and someone got hurt. Or worse, someone called whatever passed for the local constabulary and things really got out of control.
The time agent muttered a curse under his breath and shoved the Doctor in front of him, blaster poking into his back. “Get going then. Might as well deal with you both together.”
Several Cephalids who'd been about to get off the tramcar suddenly changed their minds and pressed back to give them a clear path, much to the Doctor's relief. And at this hour, there weren't many on the platform waiting either. He felt the time agent shift behind him and move to his side, blaster still pointing at what would be some vital organs on a human and would still be a bit dicey for a Time Lord to lose.
“There now, just a couple of blokes out for a stroll.”
“Right. I'm sure we'll blend right in,” the Doctor scoffed. “Planned this out carefully, then, have you?”
His sense of relief faded as the sense of wrongness around him increased. Well, of course it would. They were headed right for it. Well, half of it. And it didn't make sense. A mere human crossing their timeline wouldn't cause that. Cause plenty of other trouble, sure, and if the lad brought Reapers down on this planet, the Doctor was going to be very, very cross. He knew better, after all, or he should do. If he was going to pull stunts like this, he needed that vortex manipulator taken away, or at least disabled from time travel. The wristcomp itself was benign enough, and dead useful on occasion.
They crossed the ticket-barrier onto the street without incident, the Doctor's fare having been paid to excess and the time agent most likely having jammed the credit-reader with his wristcomp, when the Doctor was wrenched from these considerations by the sound of a frail Cephalid voice behind them arguing with the credit collector.
“But I have to go! They're going to hurt my human!”
Any hope that the time agent might not be able to understand fled as he felt the blaster shift slightly in reaction and heard the man mutter a curse under his breath. For a brief second, the Doctor dared hope that the agent might just press on and let the creature stay behind to argue over its fare. He was curious, though, what human the Cephalid might be talking about.
Apparently, so was the time agent.
“Fuck it.”
The blaster was abruptly gone from the Doctor's back and trained on what appeared to be an elderly and querrulous Cephalid that was now moving towards them, seemingly oblivious to its danger.
“Stop right there, Squidly,” the agent said in a mixture of broken Cephalid and Galactic. “What, exactly, does an old bloke like you want with us? And who're you calling 'your' human?”
The area around them was peculiarly devoid of locals. Whether that was normal for this time of day or down to someone on the tramcar having called in the disturbance they'd already created, the Doctor couldn't be sure. One thing was certain: they were running out of time.
“For that matter,” he put in, “who're you calling human?”
That had the desired effect, and the time agent glanced at him in surprise just long enough for the Doctor to get a grip on the blaster and pull it towards himself and away from the two Cephalids. Unfortunately, it kept on going and a lance of searing heat swept through his spleen, lung, and leftmost heart with an ear-splitting screech, or was that coming from him? It was sort of hard to tell.
His knees hit the smooth, cool pavement with a thud that ought to have hurt, but he was too busy making sure his regeneration sequence had started. A couple of enzymes needed prodding, but first he had to be sure the bloody time agent didn't hurt anyone else. The blaster wouldn't quite come free, and the Doctor could feel his own grip starting to slacken. Damn.
From around a corner, a figure came running, coat flapping like some sort of superhero cape. The Doctor's timesense went wild, and he barely had time to think that he must be hallucinating, because it made no sense for the lad to be dressed like that on this planet and shouting at him to stay where he was. As if he could go anywhere. The Doctor just hoped he was still clever enough, despite bizarre hallucinations, to pick a sensible set of spacetime coordinates as he flipped the other time agent's vortex manipulator open and punched in a quick series of commands, barely letting go in time before the man vanished from sight, leaving the Doctor to topple forwards.
Strong arms encased in rough wool caught him before he quite made it all the way to the floor, and after a bit of shifting, he found himself looking up into the eyes far too old for the face that held them.
“Jack,” he gasped. “You've got to get away. Can't … you'll be caught in the ...”
“Not gonna happen, Doctor,” the captain said, arms tightening reassuringly solid and un-hallucination-like around him, clearly oblivious to the danger of staying so close.
“You don't understand.” The Doctor struggled to get away, and he told himself it was for the lad's own safety, but there was part of him that just wanted to be far, far away from the swirling cloud of paradox that seemed to envelop the young man.
“More than you do,” Jack said, holding him still. “It's not time for you to regenerate yet. Wish I thought there was half a chance you'd remember this.”
And then the lad's lips were pressing against his, and all that paradoxical Vortex energy was pouring into him. At first the Doctor tried to resist, to push Jack away for his own good, but his body overruled him, cells drinking in the restorative energy, lips parting in a desperate invitation he hadn't realized he wanted to make. When Jack didn't respond, the Doctor grabbed the back of the lad's head, pulling him closer, and still the kiss stayed both frustratingly chaste and more intimate than he'd have imagined possible with anyone since he'd found himself on the wrong side of the Time Lock.
All too soon, it ended, and Jack pulled away. The Doctor opened his eyes and looked into the face that was at once so familiar and yet so very much not. How much time had passed for him? What had put that look of haunted sadness in his eyes? And yet there was something else there too.
“We do this often then?” he asked, his voice rougher than he'd have liked.
Jack smiled. “Timelines, Doctor. Anyway, I've got to buy you that drink first.”
The Doctor chuckled, then frowned when it turned into a cough and a wave of sleepiness swept over him. Apparently even coming just short of regeneration took a lot out of him.
“I'll be along to get you back to the TARDIS in a few minutes,” Jack continued. “Can't be here for that.”
“No,” the Doctor agreed, though he was reluctant to let this Jack out of his sight either. It was tempting, the idea of running off with this Jack and cutting out all the one-upsmanship games they'd been playing. Of course, that would mean they'd never lived the timeline that got them to the sort of familiar fondness this Jack showed, and the paradox potential of such a choice combined with whatever it was that was swirling in and around him was unthinkable. As if reading his mind, Jack removed the Doctor's hand from his hair but didn't let go of his hand.
“Can you stand? It's been awhile, but I don't think you were lying on the pavement when I found you.”
The Doctor nodded and Jack gave him a hand up.
“But what about …?”
“He won't be back,” Jack cut in. “That's not enough to fix things yet, but it'll come. The answers aren't on this planet.”
“I'm not even sure what the question is.” The Doctor yawned. No, really, why was he so tired? He took a quick internal inventory and realized there was something chemically wrong, and it started … He put his hands to his lips.
“I'm sorry,” Jack said, his eyes appearing truly pained as he took a step back. “If it's any consolation, you told me I had to.”
The Doctor couldn't even muster up the energy to be angry with his future self for that. “Timelines?”
Jack nodded and flipped his vortex manipulator open. “See you in a minute. Try to stay standing till I get here?”
Nodding made things spin a bit more than they were meant to do, even accounting for this planet's relatively small size and speed of rotation.
As if suddenly remembering something, Jack pulled something out of his pocket and tossed it across the ticket-barrier to the elderly Cephalid, who caught it with an outflung tentacle.
“Thankgs, Bodgy,” Jack said. “Sorry I couldn't stick around.”
The Cephalid didn't reply, just stared blankly. Well, Jack seemed to have that effect on lots of people, including, much to his surprise, the Doctor.
Turning back to face him, Jack winked at the Doctor and, just as his wristcomp bleeped, tapped a button and disappeared, taking that sense of massive paradox with him.
“Doctor!” Jack's voice called out behind him.
The Doctor turned slowly, not really wanting to get back down on the pavement again so soon, and saw that Jack, his Jack, had just rounded a corner, missing himself by nanoseconds. Good timing, really, as his knees were getting wobbly again.
“Whoa, there!” Jack ducked under the Doctor's shoulder before he could topple over and put an arm around his waist.
That was nice, the Doctor realized. Missing something from being held up by his older self, but they'd get there.
“What happened to you?” Jack asked.
“Oh, you know, the usual. Unsticking planetary evolution, tangling with tricky timelines.” The Doctor giggled.
“Are you drunk?” Jack asked, incredulous.
“Just on you,” the Doctor replied. Wait, he hadn't meant to say that out loud.
“Drugged then.” Jack sounded angry. He shouldn't be mad at himself. Except he didn't know that part. “Do you know what it is? How dangerous is it? Gotta get you back to the TARDIS and find Rose.”
A siren sounded in the distance and began to draw closer.
“Already did that part,” the Doctor said. “Oh, she's gonna be mad when she sees I found you all by myself. Well, with a little help from you.”
“Right.” Jack seemed to finally notice the Cephalid that was still staring at them. Well, still staring at the Doctor. Different Jack. “Bodgy? You found him too? I owe you one!”
The Cephalid lifted a tentacle to show them something or possibly to wave. The Doctor couldn't quite tell.
“Huh,” was all that Jack said. He started walking. “So, TARDIS still where we left it?”
“Yup.”
“And … where is that from here?” Jack stopped, and the Doctor almost kept walking without him, except that really wouldn't have worked.
The Doctor scrunched his eyes closed and thought a moment. “Forty-three mark one hundred and eight. No temporal factor. Don't think time could take it around here right now.”
“Doctor, I can't ...”
“He's gone,” the Doctor said. “Can't track you from where I sent him. You're safe for now.”
“You're really going to have to explain this later,” Jack muttered as he shifted to punch the coordinates into his vortex manipulator.
“If I remember. Wait, that reminds me. Reach into my right pocket.”
“You have no idea how long I've been waiting to hear you say something like that,” Jack said. “But not when you're drugged. Besides, I haven't bought you that drink yet.”
“You will,” the Doctor said. “Anyway, I meant my jacket pocket. Gonna need your key. Can't teleport directly inside until I've set the TARDIS to let you.”
“My key?”
The lad wasn't usually this slow. “The one I've been meaning to give you. Come on now. Not sure how much longer I can stay awake.”
“Stay with me, Doc, at least until we can get you into the TARDIS medical bay and figure out an antidote.”
“Nah. Just need to sleep it off.” The Doctor yawned again at the thought of sleep. “Let's go home.”
And with the yanking wrench of travel without a capsule, they did.
~*~
Bogdysjji looked at the credit stick its hyoomun had tossed him before it had disappeared. And reappeared in its old clothes before disappearing again. He looked up at the ticketmaster, who looked as confused by it all as Bogdysjji felt. Maybe more.
“Never mind,” Bogdysjji said at last. “Guess I'll just go home after all.”
The ticketmaster nodded dumbly and waved him back into the tram station.
Bogdysjji passed the credit stick over the scanner and was surprised to see there was plenty left after it deducted his return fare. There was quite a lot left over, actually. He almost certainly had enough to get himself a pet and pay the flat fee to keep it there. There might even be more. He'd never been that good at maths.
It was just as well, really, that things hadn't worked out with his hyoomun. It looked like that other one it called Doctor was really its mate, and Bogdysjji knew better than to try and split up a mated pair. Maybe he'd get a different kind of pet. One of the smaller mammals that didn't go around shooting things and getting shot at.
As he boarded the next tramcar home, Bogdysjji was surprised to see the xeno-medic already on board. Did she ride the tramcar often? Not too many Aviddans did.
He thought about what the lady always said about paying his debts. With a sigh, he gave up on the idea of getting a little mammal and went over to sit next to her.
“Here,” he said, holding out the credit stick. “Thanks for fixing my hyoomun.”
She stared at him strangely, then pulled out an identical silver stick. “It's already taken care of.”
“Oh,” was all Bogdysjji could think to say. “Well, in that case, what kind of mammal do you think I should get? Hyoomuns seem like too much work.”
A little smile showed under her delicate feathers, and she started to explain the differences between dogs, gerbils, and ferrets. Bogdysjji listened, captivated, all the way home, ignoring the stares from the few other passengers. What did they know anyway? He could talk to an Aviddan in public if he wanted to.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a little girl who should probably be in bed watching from her seat nested in her mother's upper tentacles, her eyes wide with awe. It was silly, really. If even hyoomuns could talk, what was the big deal about Aviddans, just because they had too few limbs and too many feathers? Bogdysjji smiled at her and gave her a wink, then turned his attention back to the xeno-medic for the rest of the ride.
~*~
“And that,” Annelyya said with a flourish, “is why I believe our best option is to work together to develop our resources responsibly.”
With a breath of relief, she sank back into her seat as the next representative rose to speak. It was going to be a close vote, but she had a feeling they would prevail.
Movement at the back of the Assembly Hall caught her eye, and she noticed two non-Aviddan bipeds watching the proceedings. Humans, she thought, from the look of them, one dressed in blueish grey and the other in beige with an odd little bow at its throat. The blueish one seemed to notice her attention and smiled, making a gesture with the appendages at the end of its bony arm that she took to be approval.
Bemused, she returned her attention to the speaker. By the time the vote for unification with the Aviddan provinces had passed and she thought to look for them again, they had gone.
~*~
“So it's all fixed then?” Jack asked as they strode back towards the TARDIS.
“As fixed as it can be until we take on the Daleks at Satellite Five, which we've already done or else we couldn't be here now, so, then yes,” the Doctor replied. “All fixed.”
“Where to now?” Jack asked as he turned his key and opened the door, pausing to let the Doctor go through first shoulder brushing none too subtly against Jack's chest as he passed.
“Dunno,” the Doctor said. “Mostly I'd just planned on getting things sorted here. Of course, there's an excellent supernova two systems over in the thirty-fifth century. Shall we go have a look?”
“Wherever you say, Doctor.”
“Here we go then!” The Doctor flipped a switch and cranked a handle, and the Time Rotor whirred as they took off.
Jack looked around the control room and smiled. It didn't matter where they went. He was finally home.
Author:
firefly124Challenge: Summer Holidays 3
Pairing: Jack/Nine, Jack/Eleven
Rating: PG13 for language
Spoilers/warnings: Spoilers through “Boom Town” with allusions to Jack's later timeline, including a character from Torchwood S2. Well, and Eleven's appearance. (What can I say? With the Doctor and Jack, things have to get at least a little timey-wimey.)
Summary: It was supposed to be a simple stop to pick up supplies at the famed market of Avicephalon.
Prompt: copper 28 awe leather
Bogdysjji just couldn't sleep anymore. The lady was going to frown when he told her, but he just couldn't help it. He looked at the comm panel, but it was day twenty-eight. The night watch at this end of the lunar cycle didn't like when he called just to talk. It would be several days before the nice night watch was on again. He sighed and ran a tentacle over his thinning hair. Maybe a walk? The lady would frown about taking a walk this late, but he had to do something.
The night air was pleasant, even with the faint breeze lending a chill to it. Bogdysjji decided that once around the hexahedron should be enough to tire himself out but shouldn't bother his lower tentacles much. Thoptrices chirped and clicked, a summer symphony. Bogdysjji was glad he'd woken up. He liked music, and this was too pretty to sleep through.
The breeze shifted, smelled coppery, and there was a new sound. Not a thoptrix. More of a grunt, like an injured mammal. Maybe a canine. Bogdysjji liked canines. If there was one hurt and he brought it home to take care of, nobody could take it away from him. Not if he was helping it get better. That wouldn't be right. He turned to follow the scent and sound. It led down a narrow passage between buildings, the kind the lady told him never to wander into. But of course that's were a hurt little canine would go. Except now that he was closer, he didn't think it was little, and it didn't sound much like a canine.
Bogdysjji couldn't see it until he got right on top of it. Nope, not a canine. It was a mammal though, the kind that stood on only two of its legs. Only it wasn't standing very well. More like leaning against the wall and still not too steady. Bogdysjji always wondered how they managed with only two anyway. He always wobbled like this one was doing when he tried it. Its upper legs were wrapped around its waist though, and Bogdysjji thought that was where the coppery smell was coming from. It seemed to be leaking. The mammal looked up.
“Whoa,” it said. “Guess I'm in worse shape than I thought if I'm hallucinating. Still, you look like you could make it fun while I last. What do you say?”
“You talk,” Bogdysjji said. “And you're hurt.”
“Pretty observant for a hallucination. Yeah, you could say I need a Doctor.” It made a wet sort of sucking noise. “Too bad I lost mine.”
It wasn't quite what Bogdysjji had had in mind, but it was still an injured mammal that needed help. And one that could talk too. Maybe it would stay and keep him company if he helped it get better. “You should come home with me. I have a box for fixing up, and I took a class at the center on taking care of mammals. Smaller ones though.”
“Um.”
“And a lady comes in the morning. She's good at finding doctors. She found me one when my tentacles hurt, and a different one when I couldn't eat.”
“I'm not sure if that sounds like I'm going to end up dinner or a pet, but someplace other than this alley to spend the night sounds like a good idea. And if that fixing-up box has bandages in it, that would help.” It unwrapped one of its limbs and extended it. “Captain Jack Harkness. And you are?”
“Bogdysjji.”
The mammal had to try a couple of times to say it correctly, even though it spoke perfect Cephalic. Strange. Maybe the mammal was still a youngling. Hard to tell with mammals.
It took three of Bogdysjji's upper tentacles to help the mammal back home, and it seemed to have trouble figuring out how to do simple things like open the fixing-up box. Bogdysjji wasn't sure if that was because it was hurt or because its hands split into tiny bits at the end. Between the two of them, though, they managed to get the wound on its body cleaned and covered.
After that, it was a bit difficult getting it settled into the guest bed. Mammals were just too bony to fit into things properly. If Bogdysjji got to keep it, he'd have to find out what sort of bed was meant for a mammal like this one. And what they ate. It had choked down the crustacean mash, but the contortions on its face suggested that was not what it liked, even though it said it was just fine.
Finally, Bogdysjji poured himself into his own bed. Maybe now he'd be tired enough to get a decent night's sleep.
Jack woke up slowly, like climbing out of a pit full of mud with only his fingers for pinions. It was no big deal for him to wake up in an unfamiliar bed, though it was slightly unusual for him to do so alone. The midnight flight was his role, after all. But these days, even that didn’t happen so often, and he woke up in his own room in the TARDIS fairly regularly. Almost regularly enough to call it home.
This was definitely not the TARDIS.
The sharp pain in his side when he tried to move reminded him where he was and why he was here. He and the Doctor and Rose had had to split up to confuse their pursuers, and he’d ended up shot. He hoped they’d fared better. And then the elderly Cephalid had found him in that alley and brought him home like a stray puppy with promises that “the lady” would fix everything in the morning.
A look up at the window confirmed it was morning. He wondered if “the lady” would have a way he could try to contact the Doctor. They really needed a better system for situations like this. The Doctor and Rose could be anywhere, and while Rose had a mobile phone, the Doctor didn't have any sort of portable communications device. Besides, who knew what had happened to them after they'd split up? If Jack had got himself shot, what trouble might they have run into?
At any rate, whoever this “lady” was, Jack had his doubts she'd be as helpful as Bogdysjji seemed to think. More likely she’d try to ship him off to some local doctor, or perhaps their equivalent of a vet. At this point, if said vet knew enough human biology to make sure he wasn’t going to go into septic shock before this thing healed, or maybe even had a human-compatible dermal regenerator, Jack would be entirely willing to go along with it. So long as he got to leave and find the Doctor after.
He tried not to think about what sort of rescuing might be needed. Time enough for that once he got himself sorted.
“Oh, Bodg..., what have you brought home this time?” a voice drifted in from the other room. “I told you, you’re not allowed pets in this flat.”
Oh, now that was rich, Jack thought. The TARDIS’ translation circuits must be having trouble with this language, because in no sane universe could this domicile be described as remotely “flat.” It was clearly designed to cater to Cephalid anatomy, as of course it would be. Why this meant everything had to be all curvy, including the floor, he wasn’t quite sure, but it seemed to work for Bodgy.
And then there was the matter of being called a pet. Not something he entirely minded, of course, in the right context. He was pretty sure that wasn't what she'd meant though.
“Well, of course it was injured,” the voice continued. “Knocking around that part of the city at that hour. Which brings me to my next question: what were you doing out halfway through the night cycle?”
The voices were getting closer, and now Jack could make out Blogdy’s replies. Something about being unable to sleep and the music of the insects. They’d mostly sounded annoying to Jack, but then, there was the whole gaping wound thing distracting him.
The two Cephalids entered the room where Jack was curled up in an uncomfortably cup-shaped piece of furniture. He took in the rather formidable-looking “lady” warily. She didn’t look like someone it would be easy to sweet talk. Oh, he could do it, at least, he was sure he could on his better days. It’d be a bit more of a challenge right now when he really wasn’t at his best. She didn’t seem the sort to respond favorably to the idea that he needed saving, but on the other hand, he was in no position to offer, well, anything.
Not that he'd ever let that stop him before.
“Good morning!” he called out cheerily. “Captain Jack Harkness here, and who are you?”
“It speaks with an odd inflection,” the female Cephalid noted.
“It talks funny sometimes too,” Bogdysjji said.
“I'd greet you properly,” Jack continued, “except I'm having a slight problem here.”
He lifted his arm and didn't bother to try to hide the wince of pain that accompanied the movement. He could really do with the TARDIS' medical bay right about now.
“It really is badly injured,” the female said. “You shouldn't have tried to patch it up yourself. I know we tell you not to contact the office in the middle of the night so often, but for this, you really should have called.”
“Didn't I fix it right?” Bogdysjji asked.
“I'm not sure,” the female said.
“He said he needed to find a doctor.”
“Not a doctor. The Doctor,” Jack corrected. “Bipedal like me. And Rose.”
“It is correct that it needs medical attention,” the female said. “However, it is also asking for flowers. It is probably delirious.”
Jack sighed. This wasn't getting him anywhere.
“Fine. Take me wherever. Just please hurry so I can find them.”
Things had improved between the three of them since Cardiff, since before then really, but Jack knew the Doctor still had doubts about him. Couldn't blame him, really. He didn't think he could stand it if the Doctor thought he'd taken off and left him and Rose to fend for themselves.
“If it's payment that's a problem,” Jack added, “I can assure you, you'll be well compensated.”
Well, they would be if he could get some of that sonicked-up credit the Doctor was so fond of providing—and how was that so much different than conning it out of people?--and if he couldn't, well, he'd skipped out on bills before. He didn't like to think of doing it now, but if push came to shove, he still knew he could.
“We'll just bring it down to the medics on Fort Way and see what they can do,” the female said. “But I don't want you to get your hopes up. It might be too badly injured to help.”
Jack really hoped she was wrong about that. As long as they could keep him alive until the Doctor found him, or until he could limp along to find the Doctor, more likely, he was sure he'd be fine.
It probably didn't do to accuse your companions of wandering off when it was you that had ordered them to split up in the first place. Still, it was very annoying trying to round them back up again.
Rose, at least, he'd finally found. And while she'd made a fuss about it, he'd managed to give her some make-work to do in the TARDIS to keep her contained while he searched for the Captain. Oh, nothing that could get her into any trouble, and the TARDIS knew not to let her out.
Well, then again, it was Rose. Jeopardy-friendly Rose.
He'd best get a move on. While the Captain could certainly take care of himself, he really should have reported back to the TARDIS by now.
It wasn't the strangest hospital Jack had ever seen, nor the smallest. Considering he'd been all over human history in his days with the Time Agency, though, that wasn't saying a whole lot for it.
On the plus side, the xeno-medic seemed much more familiar with humans than either of the two Cephalids that had brought him there. Interestingly, the medic was an Aviddan, same as the gang of thugs that had set on the Doctor, Rose, and Jack at the marketplace. She also seemed to have less use for the Cephalids than for Jack, though it was hard to tell whether this was some sort of speciesism (or possibly bipedalism) or simply a preference for beings that required her services.
She swept a scanner over him and tapped something into it with her delicate, tri-digited hand, and frowned.
“What is it?” Jack asked guardedly. He didn't think the wound was mortal, at least not so long as it didn't get infected.
“How did you say you acquired this injury?” the medic asked.
“I didn't,” he replied. “My friends and I were attacked. I got shot.”
“And they left you?”
“No!” At least, Jack hoped they hadn't. Though it had been nearly a full day-cycle for this planet. It should take longer than that for them to give up on him, right? Besides, the TARDIS was still translating for him, and he was pretty sure they had to be on the same planet for that to work. “We got separated.”
The medic sniffed, clearly realizing she was getting less than half the story. “The projectile missed your primary organs, but it must be removed. Also, I am required by law to report any such injuries to the authorities.”
Jack nodded, then immediately regretted it as the room swam a bit. So long as their attackers hadn't been the authorities—and while they hadn't been on-planet an hour by the time of the attack, that wouldn't be a record for the Doctor inadvertently pissing off the powers that be—that might actually make it easier to reconnect with the Doctor and Rose. They'd go looking for that sort of report, after all.
So long as they hadn't been captured or injured themselves.
“Do you know if there were any reports of other humans, or humanoid in one case, with similar injuries?”
“I can ask.” The medic shrugged. “They will not answer, but if there are, the security forces may recognize the connection.”
Security forces. Not police. That set off warning bells, but before he could ask, the medic was placing a cone-shaped mask over his nose and mouth that conformed itself to fit and saying, “Just breathe normally.”
Whatever the mask contained, it was good stuff. Jack's abdomen stopped hurting almost immediately, and shortly thereafter he sank into a restful sleep.
Scanning for Jack's vortex manipulator wasn't working, and it shouldn't be possible for him to be out of range. Well, so long as he hadn't used it. Interesting that he hadn't, come to think of it. There'd been a few occasions when it would've come in handy, but he used it strictly as a wristcomp. The Doctor would have to find out the reason for that someday.
Today, however, the actinurium concentrations on this planet were interfering with his sonic screwdriver, limiting the radius he could scan to hardly more than he could manage with his eyes alone. There was nothing for it, then, but to head back to the market and see if there was any sort of trail he could follow that would tell him where the lad might have ended up. He could just ask, of course. Bipedal mammals tended to stand out a bit on a world populated by Aviddans and Cephalids, what with the lack of tentacles or feathers. Problem was, he wasn't entirely sure that would be a wise idea. He still wasn't sure what their attackers had been about in the first place. It clearly wasn't a simple case of “rob the tourists,” or they wouldn't have started shooting.
Oh well. When had he ever relied on going with the “wise idea”? Clever almost always suited his purposes better, so he waltzed up to the first booth in the Aviddan market and started asking questions.
Bogdysjji hadn't been able to stay and watch what the xeno-medic did for the mammal, though he had been interested to learn it was called a hyoomun. He thought he'd heard about them before, but he was almost certain the mediavid had showed them with lots more hair.
After all his appointments and sessions were done for the day, though, he was free to do as he pleased, so Bogdysjji took a tramcar across town to the xeno-medic's office to find out how his hyoomun was doing. The lady wouldn't be pleased. He was supposed to save those credits to pay some boring bill he'd racked up years ago. Bogdysjji thought that would be a waste. The bill wasn't going anywhere, but the hyoomun might, and he didn't want that to happen.
It was only a few hours until night when Bogdysjji arrived, and the xeno-medic almost wouldn't let him in.
“But it was me that brought it to you,” he insisted.
“It was your worker that brought it to me,” the medic replied. “You just found it, that's all. At any rate, the visiting period is over, and it needs to rest.”
Bogdysjji wasn't sure if she was telling the truth about the visiting times. If they were always in the middle of the day, when people were at work and school and appointments and things, no one would ever visit anybody. No, the medic didn't seem to like Bogdysjji, and he couldn't figure out why. He'd never done anything to her. He'd never even met her before today, and he'd brought her a hyoomun to fix up. She'd seemed to like that, anyway.
“I won't wake it up,” he said. “I just want to see that it's okay.”
With a sigh much like the one the lady sometimes gave, the medic opened the door to the treatment area. “You can look. No noise though. I told you, it needs to rest.”
The hyoomun was indeed sleeping. It made noises sometimes though, and one of them sounded like “doctor.” It had asked for one before, but Bogdysjji hadn't really thought about it. Didn't it know it would need a xeno-medic and not a doctor? Maybe it was hurt in the head and thought it was a Cephalid. It had said some pretty strange things last night, come to think of it. Bogdysjji found himself wondering if that meant it would need a lady to check in on it too. Maybe Bogdysjji could share his lady with it. That would be nice.
The medic closed the door too quickly.
“Now, go home and don't bother me anymore.”
“I'm coming back tomorrow,” Bogdysjji said. “And I'll come during the visiting period.”
The medic sniffed and turned her back to do whatever it was she had been doing when Bogdysjji had arrived. He fished around in his pouch and found enough credits for a tramcar home. He'd have to walk tomorrow, but that was okay. He didn't have anything else to do.
The Doctor was getting frustrated. On the one hand, he'd found out why he, Rose, and Jack had been targeted. If he didn't know better, he'd have thought they'd landed a century or so earlier than he'd aimed for, well before the Aviddans and Cephalids had resolved their differences. As it was, they seemed to be well behind where they ought to be, reminiscent of the delays they'd seen on Satellite 5. Nothing here suggested that something like the Jagrafess was involved, though it could be some other interference. Who would stand to gain by keeping the two dominant species at odds?
The Second Great and Bountiful Human Empire had only just started to reach quite this far yet, mostly from the occasional, adventurer, but there was at least some awareness of humanity's spread, not to mention their proclivity for “dancing” with the aliens they encountered along the way. On a planet where even contact between species was strained and interbreeding was so unthinkable they didn't even bother to have a punishment for it … well.
The Doctor was a bit annoyed at having been mistaken for human, but that was about as significant as a gnat-bite next to the fact that he hadn't found a single lead to where Jack might be. The lad was capable enough, but the fact that he hadn't found some way to make contact suggested he'd got in over his head. Given his perpetual flirting and the local climate, that was almost a guarantee, actually.
It had seemed like a routine mugging though, at first. Well, at least until they'd pulled out the blasters. Something about this whole mess smelled wrong. He'd find out what it was eventually, he was sure of it. First, though, he had to find the captain, and without any other leads to go on, he might as well start with the obvious.
“So, let's say, for example, an offworlder like one of us were to be injured,” the Doctor said to the Aviddan vendor, “where would they go? You may not get many humans, but you clearly get plenty of other species who come here for trade.”
“There are a few xeno-medics,” the golden-feathered Aviddan said. “They're very expensive though. You think your friend was injured?”
“I hope not.” At least, the Doctor thought, the captain had plenty of currency on him, if it hadn't been stolen. And if anyone could talk his way out of a bill, it'd be Jack. So long as he didn't try to do it by seducing the medic. “So, where might I find one of your xeno-medics?”
The vendor gave a set of directions that would have completely bewildered anyone of a species that didn't have near-perfect recall. Good thing the Doctor didn't have that problem.
The problem he did have was that the nearest xeno-medical office was on the complete opposite side of the city, oddly distant from the market where one might actually need it, and bordering on the neighboring Cephalid township. That probably made it a dodgy neighborhood, and to go by the Aviddan's tone in describing it, that was probably a reasonable assessment. Probably exactly the sort of place the captain would end up.
Well, he could either walk or he could take one of the tramcars. Going back and taking the TARDIS was out of the question. Rose would never let him leave her in there a second time while he went after Jack, and he didn't want to be worrying about both of them. As it was, she was probably already getting impatient, having worked out that the actinurium deposits—well, she might not work out that part, but at least she'd realize it was something—were interfering with the TARDIS' scanners too. Tricky stuff, actinurium. Only one row up from dalekanium on the Gallifreyan Periodic Table, and even knowing they'd polished off the very last Dalek escapee from the Time War back on Earth didn't keep a shudder from making its way down the Doctor's spine at the thought.
Never mind, enough of that. He might not be fond of public transport—great idea overall, just not when you're in a hurry to save the world or at least your friends—but it was the best way to get across town, so he made his way to the transit point, keeping his eyes open for clues along the way. Clues to where Jack might be for one, but clues to just why this world was stuck in its own past for another. The way his days generally went, there was probably a connection, after all.
It was dark when Jack woke up, but not so dark that he couldn't tell where he was. Still at the medic's place, apparently, but alone now. Carefully, he sat up and realized he was naked except for the dressing on his abdomen. Pressing his hand against it gingerly, he could tell it was in better shape than earlier, but it was going to hurt for awhile. He thought about pulling it back to try and determine whether the medic had used a dermal regenerator or just stitches, but thought better of it. He could hardly see, and poking around at wounds was usually a bad idea once they'd been dealt with.
Flipping open his wristcomp, he chanced a quick scan and was startled to realize he was alone in the building. Clambering off the table-like bed he'd been on, he checked the door.
Locked in.
Well, that wouldn't be much of a problem. If he could get a little light, he could probably find something to pick the lock with.
Feeling his way about, he found a pile of clothes that seemed to be his, right down to the completely ruined shirt. He put on what was salvageable and left the shirt. Good thing it was warm on this planet. A bit more exploring yielded a torch of sorts and some surgical implements that worked quite nicely to get the door open.
The main exit was even easier, as it wasn't meant to keep anyone in. He could even lock it behind him, which he was sort of inclined to do. The medic had helped him out, after all.
That thought gave him pause, and Jack pulled the credit stick from his pocket. Too bad there wasn't a way to just leave part of it. He didn't know what he might need money for once he hit the streets. Then again, he'd always been able to get money when he needed it, and he wasn't sure who was planning to pay the medic, if at all, for patching him up. With a shrug, he left it on a counter top where it should be found when she returned in the morning.
What a change. He'd never have done that before London. With a little smile, he thought of the Doctor's reaction if he knew. The smile faded as he turned his mind to finding the Doctor and Rose.
Not looking back, he went through the door and locked it quietly behind him. One good thing was that, if they weren't in a situation similar to his, they ought to stick out pretty easily.
Bogdysjji was tired. It had been a long day, and he really hadn't got enough sleep last night. He wasn't quite tired enough to miss the hyoomun on the tramcar though. Nobody missed it, though nobody else seemed as surprised by its appearance as Bogdysjji had been when he'd found his hyoomun last night. Bogdysjji wondered if maybe this one knew his hyoomun. It would be sort of a large coincidence for there to be two around that didn't know each other.
This one was a lot more colorful, wearing some sort of bright red garment. It wasn't paying attention to anyone else on the tramcar, just looking at that thing on its bony arm. Did all hyoomuns have those? It punched its finger at the thing on its arm and screwed up its face strangely.
Bogdysjji started to wonder if he'd fallen asleep after all and was dreaming when another hyoomun got on the tramcar at the next stop. Could he dream three different-looking hyoomuns? The new one was wearing brown where the other was red, and had less fur on its head than either the red one or Bogdysjji's hyoomun. The brown one stared at the red one, looking as surprised by it all as Bogdysjji felt. Everyone was staring at the two mammals now. It was the most interesting thing to happen on the trams in a long time, after all. Probably ever.
The thing on the red one's arm made a funny beeping sound, and the red hyoomun squawked something that sounded like it wanted to be words but wasn't. Maybe this one wasn't as smart as Bogdysjji's hyoomun about talking. The brown one seemed smart, though, because when he walked over to grab the red one, he talked even better than Bogdysjji's.
“Now what, exactly, is a bloke like you doing on a planet like this?” the brown one asked.
The red one squawked some more, and the brown one yanked its arm up to look at the thing it was wearing. Bogdysjji noticed the brown hyoomun didn't have one.
“Well, who are you looking for, then? Seems to me a Time Agent like yourself only gets a reading like that off another Time Agent's vortex manipulator. Two of you pillaging this planet's actinurium and scrambling the timelines?”
The brown one pulled out a silver thing and pointed it at the red one's arm-thing. It glowed blue and made a strange noise that wasn't quite loud enough to drown out the red one's squawking.
“Right then, let's go and see what you lot are up to. High time I got the Agency sorted out anyway.”
The tramcar stopped, and the brown one pulled the red one out the door. Bogdysjji wasn't sleepy anymore, and when he looked out the window, it looked like they were going to go back the other way, in the direction of the xeno-medic's office where Bogdysjji's hyoomun was. Bogdysjji wasn't sure what was going on, but he didn't like the red hyoomun's squawking noises, and he decided he'd best go make sure that they didn't hurt his hyoomun, so he slid out of his seat and through the doors just before they closed. He couldn't quite catch up to the bipeds, so he had to get the tramcar behind theirs. Still, he got a window seat, so he'd be able to tell if they got off.
He'd have a time of it getting home later, as he'd already used the last of his credits, but he could worry about that then. Right now, he was more interested in making sure his hyoomun was safe from the squawky red one and maybe the brown one too.
The Doctor wasn't sure whether it was good or bad luck that had put him in the same tramcar with the time agent, but for now he was going with “good.” It was very obvious that the man was looking for Jack, and the look on his face when he'd exclaimed over his wrist strap suggested that the Doctor very much did not want this man to find him. At least, not alone. This was probably one of the agents that had stolen Jack's memories, and the Doctor was sure he was involved with whatever was keeping this world so backwards. He was a good liar, but not good enough. He'd flinched when the Doctor mentioned the actinurium, and that was the main resource this planet had that anyone would bother trying to exploit.
He really didn't want to think about why they'd do such a thing or who they'd be selling it to. If the Cephalids and Aviddans hadn't pooled their resources yet to discover how actinurium could be alloyed with other metals to improve the hull quality of spaceships, then there was only one customer the Doctor could think of that would have a use for it, and that was just impossible. But keeping the Cephalids and the Aviddans from uniting to guard their world's resources and become the shrewd traders they were supposed to be known as, oh yes, that would be exactly the sort of thing a rogue time agent might do. Cornering a market like that could be very profitable if it was all timed just right.
“You're not Agency, and you're obviously not local law enforcement.” The agent snorted. “What's it to you then?”
“The Time Agency aren't the only ones trying to keep the timelines in order. In fact, they're one of the reasons people like me need to keep them in order.” The Doctor kept a grip on the man's wrist. Letting him anywhere near that vortex manipulator would be a mistake, but he'd done something to it that made it impossible to remove. He could disable it, of course, but he actually needed it working to find the captain. Funny that it seemed to have such good range. Was there actinurium alloy in the components? Could be. Time enough to worry about that later.
“People like you? Is it the leather that's supposed to scare me or the sonic whatsit? I can't quite tell. People like you. Don't make me laugh.”
The Doctor narrowed his eyes. “Thing is, you're not laughing. That's good. Shows you're not as much of an idiot as you're trying to sound like. Might just be hope for ...”
Suddenly, he shuddered. Something felt wrong. Very wrong. It itched at his skin and made him want to run, but he couldn't tell from what. Just then, the agent's wristcomp bleeped again. The Doctor yanked it up and looked at the readout, which suddenly didn't make any sense.
“Well, that can't be right,” the time agent muttered.
“Not unless … oh, the lad couldn't be that stupid could he? Don't they teach you lot anything at that Time Agency of yours?”
The arm in his grip yanked a bit harder than it had done yet, aided by the fact the tramcar had just jolted to a stop.
“Thought something was off about you,” the agent snapped, a miniature blaster suddenly in his free hand as gasps sounded through the car. Fortunately, the agent paid the mostly-Cephalid passengers no mind. “You're teamed up with him, trying to cut me out.”
Damn. The Doctor hadn't meant to let that slip. And what was it with time agents and the Villengard weaponry? Too bad he was out of bananas.
“That's right, you've found me out. Not as stupid as you look then.” The Doctor looked at the opening tramcar doors and released the man's wrist only to have his own grabbed in turn.
“Obviously not.” The time agent stopped and rethought that. “I mean ...”
“Thing is, we're about to miss our stop.” The Doctor nodded at the doors. He had to get this maniac off this crowded conveyance before he got any more nervous than he already was and someone got hurt. Or worse, someone called whatever passed for the local constabulary and things really got out of control.
The time agent muttered a curse under his breath and shoved the Doctor in front of him, blaster poking into his back. “Get going then. Might as well deal with you both together.”
Several Cephalids who'd been about to get off the tramcar suddenly changed their minds and pressed back to give them a clear path, much to the Doctor's relief. And at this hour, there weren't many on the platform waiting either. He felt the time agent shift behind him and move to his side, blaster still pointing at what would be some vital organs on a human and would still be a bit dicey for a Time Lord to lose.
“There now, just a couple of blokes out for a stroll.”
“Right. I'm sure we'll blend right in,” the Doctor scoffed. “Planned this out carefully, then, have you?”
His sense of relief faded as the sense of wrongness around him increased. Well, of course it would. They were headed right for it. Well, half of it. And it didn't make sense. A mere human crossing their timeline wouldn't cause that. Cause plenty of other trouble, sure, and if the lad brought Reapers down on this planet, the Doctor was going to be very, very cross. He knew better, after all, or he should do. If he was going to pull stunts like this, he needed that vortex manipulator taken away, or at least disabled from time travel. The wristcomp itself was benign enough, and dead useful on occasion.
They crossed the ticket-barrier onto the street without incident, the Doctor's fare having been paid to excess and the time agent most likely having jammed the credit-reader with his wristcomp, when the Doctor was wrenched from these considerations by the sound of a frail Cephalid voice behind them arguing with the credit collector.
“But I have to go! They're going to hurt my human!”
Any hope that the time agent might not be able to understand fled as he felt the blaster shift slightly in reaction and heard the man mutter a curse under his breath. For a brief second, the Doctor dared hope that the agent might just press on and let the creature stay behind to argue over its fare. He was curious, though, what human the Cephalid might be talking about.
Apparently, so was the time agent.
“Fuck it.”
The blaster was abruptly gone from the Doctor's back and trained on what appeared to be an elderly and querrulous Cephalid that was now moving towards them, seemingly oblivious to its danger.
“Stop right there, Squidly,” the agent said in a mixture of broken Cephalid and Galactic. “What, exactly, does an old bloke like you want with us? And who're you calling 'your' human?”
The area around them was peculiarly devoid of locals. Whether that was normal for this time of day or down to someone on the tramcar having called in the disturbance they'd already created, the Doctor couldn't be sure. One thing was certain: they were running out of time.
“For that matter,” he put in, “who're you calling human?”
That had the desired effect, and the time agent glanced at him in surprise just long enough for the Doctor to get a grip on the blaster and pull it towards himself and away from the two Cephalids. Unfortunately, it kept on going and a lance of searing heat swept through his spleen, lung, and leftmost heart with an ear-splitting screech, or was that coming from him? It was sort of hard to tell.
His knees hit the smooth, cool pavement with a thud that ought to have hurt, but he was too busy making sure his regeneration sequence had started. A couple of enzymes needed prodding, but first he had to be sure the bloody time agent didn't hurt anyone else. The blaster wouldn't quite come free, and the Doctor could feel his own grip starting to slacken. Damn.
From around a corner, a figure came running, coat flapping like some sort of superhero cape. The Doctor's timesense went wild, and he barely had time to think that he must be hallucinating, because it made no sense for the lad to be dressed like that on this planet and shouting at him to stay where he was. As if he could go anywhere. The Doctor just hoped he was still clever enough, despite bizarre hallucinations, to pick a sensible set of spacetime coordinates as he flipped the other time agent's vortex manipulator open and punched in a quick series of commands, barely letting go in time before the man vanished from sight, leaving the Doctor to topple forwards.
Strong arms encased in rough wool caught him before he quite made it all the way to the floor, and after a bit of shifting, he found himself looking up into the eyes far too old for the face that held them.
“Jack,” he gasped. “You've got to get away. Can't … you'll be caught in the ...”
“Not gonna happen, Doctor,” the captain said, arms tightening reassuringly solid and un-hallucination-like around him, clearly oblivious to the danger of staying so close.
“You don't understand.” The Doctor struggled to get away, and he told himself it was for the lad's own safety, but there was part of him that just wanted to be far, far away from the swirling cloud of paradox that seemed to envelop the young man.
“More than you do,” Jack said, holding him still. “It's not time for you to regenerate yet. Wish I thought there was half a chance you'd remember this.”
And then the lad's lips were pressing against his, and all that paradoxical Vortex energy was pouring into him. At first the Doctor tried to resist, to push Jack away for his own good, but his body overruled him, cells drinking in the restorative energy, lips parting in a desperate invitation he hadn't realized he wanted to make. When Jack didn't respond, the Doctor grabbed the back of the lad's head, pulling him closer, and still the kiss stayed both frustratingly chaste and more intimate than he'd have imagined possible with anyone since he'd found himself on the wrong side of the Time Lock.
All too soon, it ended, and Jack pulled away. The Doctor opened his eyes and looked into the face that was at once so familiar and yet so very much not. How much time had passed for him? What had put that look of haunted sadness in his eyes? And yet there was something else there too.
“We do this often then?” he asked, his voice rougher than he'd have liked.
Jack smiled. “Timelines, Doctor. Anyway, I've got to buy you that drink first.”
The Doctor chuckled, then frowned when it turned into a cough and a wave of sleepiness swept over him. Apparently even coming just short of regeneration took a lot out of him.
“I'll be along to get you back to the TARDIS in a few minutes,” Jack continued. “Can't be here for that.”
“No,” the Doctor agreed, though he was reluctant to let this Jack out of his sight either. It was tempting, the idea of running off with this Jack and cutting out all the one-upsmanship games they'd been playing. Of course, that would mean they'd never lived the timeline that got them to the sort of familiar fondness this Jack showed, and the paradox potential of such a choice combined with whatever it was that was swirling in and around him was unthinkable. As if reading his mind, Jack removed the Doctor's hand from his hair but didn't let go of his hand.
“Can you stand? It's been awhile, but I don't think you were lying on the pavement when I found you.”
The Doctor nodded and Jack gave him a hand up.
“But what about …?”
“He won't be back,” Jack cut in. “That's not enough to fix things yet, but it'll come. The answers aren't on this planet.”
“I'm not even sure what the question is.” The Doctor yawned. No, really, why was he so tired? He took a quick internal inventory and realized there was something chemically wrong, and it started … He put his hands to his lips.
“I'm sorry,” Jack said, his eyes appearing truly pained as he took a step back. “If it's any consolation, you told me I had to.”
The Doctor couldn't even muster up the energy to be angry with his future self for that. “Timelines?”
Jack nodded and flipped his vortex manipulator open. “See you in a minute. Try to stay standing till I get here?”
Nodding made things spin a bit more than they were meant to do, even accounting for this planet's relatively small size and speed of rotation.
As if suddenly remembering something, Jack pulled something out of his pocket and tossed it across the ticket-barrier to the elderly Cephalid, who caught it with an outflung tentacle.
“Thankgs, Bodgy,” Jack said. “Sorry I couldn't stick around.”
The Cephalid didn't reply, just stared blankly. Well, Jack seemed to have that effect on lots of people, including, much to his surprise, the Doctor.
Turning back to face him, Jack winked at the Doctor and, just as his wristcomp bleeped, tapped a button and disappeared, taking that sense of massive paradox with him.
“Doctor!” Jack's voice called out behind him.
The Doctor turned slowly, not really wanting to get back down on the pavement again so soon, and saw that Jack, his Jack, had just rounded a corner, missing himself by nanoseconds. Good timing, really, as his knees were getting wobbly again.
“Whoa, there!” Jack ducked under the Doctor's shoulder before he could topple over and put an arm around his waist.
That was nice, the Doctor realized. Missing something from being held up by his older self, but they'd get there.
“What happened to you?” Jack asked.
“Oh, you know, the usual. Unsticking planetary evolution, tangling with tricky timelines.” The Doctor giggled.
“Are you drunk?” Jack asked, incredulous.
“Just on you,” the Doctor replied. Wait, he hadn't meant to say that out loud.
“Drugged then.” Jack sounded angry. He shouldn't be mad at himself. Except he didn't know that part. “Do you know what it is? How dangerous is it? Gotta get you back to the TARDIS and find Rose.”
A siren sounded in the distance and began to draw closer.
“Already did that part,” the Doctor said. “Oh, she's gonna be mad when she sees I found you all by myself. Well, with a little help from you.”
“Right.” Jack seemed to finally notice the Cephalid that was still staring at them. Well, still staring at the Doctor. Different Jack. “Bodgy? You found him too? I owe you one!”
The Cephalid lifted a tentacle to show them something or possibly to wave. The Doctor couldn't quite tell.
“Huh,” was all that Jack said. He started walking. “So, TARDIS still where we left it?”
“Yup.”
“And … where is that from here?” Jack stopped, and the Doctor almost kept walking without him, except that really wouldn't have worked.
The Doctor scrunched his eyes closed and thought a moment. “Forty-three mark one hundred and eight. No temporal factor. Don't think time could take it around here right now.”
“Doctor, I can't ...”
“He's gone,” the Doctor said. “Can't track you from where I sent him. You're safe for now.”
“You're really going to have to explain this later,” Jack muttered as he shifted to punch the coordinates into his vortex manipulator.
“If I remember. Wait, that reminds me. Reach into my right pocket.”
“You have no idea how long I've been waiting to hear you say something like that,” Jack said. “But not when you're drugged. Besides, I haven't bought you that drink yet.”
“You will,” the Doctor said. “Anyway, I meant my jacket pocket. Gonna need your key. Can't teleport directly inside until I've set the TARDIS to let you.”
“My key?”
The lad wasn't usually this slow. “The one I've been meaning to give you. Come on now. Not sure how much longer I can stay awake.”
“Stay with me, Doc, at least until we can get you into the TARDIS medical bay and figure out an antidote.”
“Nah. Just need to sleep it off.” The Doctor yawned again at the thought of sleep. “Let's go home.”
And with the yanking wrench of travel without a capsule, they did.
Bogdysjji looked at the credit stick its hyoomun had tossed him before it had disappeared. And reappeared in its old clothes before disappearing again. He looked up at the ticketmaster, who looked as confused by it all as Bogdysjji felt. Maybe more.
“Never mind,” Bogdysjji said at last. “Guess I'll just go home after all.”
The ticketmaster nodded dumbly and waved him back into the tram station.
Bogdysjji passed the credit stick over the scanner and was surprised to see there was plenty left after it deducted his return fare. There was quite a lot left over, actually. He almost certainly had enough to get himself a pet and pay the flat fee to keep it there. There might even be more. He'd never been that good at maths.
It was just as well, really, that things hadn't worked out with his hyoomun. It looked like that other one it called Doctor was really its mate, and Bogdysjji knew better than to try and split up a mated pair. Maybe he'd get a different kind of pet. One of the smaller mammals that didn't go around shooting things and getting shot at.
As he boarded the next tramcar home, Bogdysjji was surprised to see the xeno-medic already on board. Did she ride the tramcar often? Not too many Aviddans did.
He thought about what the lady always said about paying his debts. With a sigh, he gave up on the idea of getting a little mammal and went over to sit next to her.
“Here,” he said, holding out the credit stick. “Thanks for fixing my hyoomun.”
She stared at him strangely, then pulled out an identical silver stick. “It's already taken care of.”
“Oh,” was all Bogdysjji could think to say. “Well, in that case, what kind of mammal do you think I should get? Hyoomuns seem like too much work.”
A little smile showed under her delicate feathers, and she started to explain the differences between dogs, gerbils, and ferrets. Bogdysjji listened, captivated, all the way home, ignoring the stares from the few other passengers. What did they know anyway? He could talk to an Aviddan in public if he wanted to.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a little girl who should probably be in bed watching from her seat nested in her mother's upper tentacles, her eyes wide with awe. It was silly, really. If even hyoomuns could talk, what was the big deal about Aviddans, just because they had too few limbs and too many feathers? Bogdysjji smiled at her and gave her a wink, then turned his attention back to the xeno-medic for the rest of the ride.
“And that,” Annelyya said with a flourish, “is why I believe our best option is to work together to develop our resources responsibly.”
With a breath of relief, she sank back into her seat as the next representative rose to speak. It was going to be a close vote, but she had a feeling they would prevail.
Movement at the back of the Assembly Hall caught her eye, and she noticed two non-Aviddan bipeds watching the proceedings. Humans, she thought, from the look of them, one dressed in blueish grey and the other in beige with an odd little bow at its throat. The blueish one seemed to notice her attention and smiled, making a gesture with the appendages at the end of its bony arm that she took to be approval.
Bemused, she returned her attention to the speaker. By the time the vote for unification with the Aviddan provinces had passed and she thought to look for them again, they had gone.
“So it's all fixed then?” Jack asked as they strode back towards the TARDIS.
“As fixed as it can be until we take on the Daleks at Satellite Five, which we've already done or else we couldn't be here now, so, then yes,” the Doctor replied. “All fixed.”
“Where to now?” Jack asked as he turned his key and opened the door, pausing to let the Doctor go through first shoulder brushing none too subtly against Jack's chest as he passed.
“Dunno,” the Doctor said. “Mostly I'd just planned on getting things sorted here. Of course, there's an excellent supernova two systems over in the thirty-fifth century. Shall we go have a look?”
“Wherever you say, Doctor.”
“Here we go then!” The Doctor flipped a switch and cranked a handle, and the Time Rotor whirred as they took off.
Jack looked around the control room and smiled. It didn't matter where they went. He was finally home.
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Wonderful timey-wimey, awesome worldbuilding, lots of plotiness, and the Doctor being all gruff and cross because he's trying not to be frantic with worry.
And Jack/Nine on top of that!!! :)
Absolutely awesome fic.
Are you going to repost on Tsp and/or AO3 at the end of the month? Because I don't want to lose this.
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Also, love the icon. :-D
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Very, very satisfying.
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BTW, love the icon!
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Thanks! I was having fun playing around with the filters in The Gimp (http://www.gimp.org/).
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Bogdy was fun to create. I confess, his name was deliberately difficult to make it clearly alien, but honestly, I ended up copy-pasting to make sure I didn't mangle it myself. LOL
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