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wintercompanion2014-07-29 10:47 pm
wojelah.livejournal.com) wrote in wintercompanion2014-07-29 10:47 pm
Entry tags:
wojelah: O Eixo (Jack/Nine) [G] - Summer Holidays Prompt #12
Title: O Eixo
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wojelah
Rating: G
Prompt: Commander, in enemy territory, with a glass of wine, in a monorail
Spoilers/warnings: None.
A/N: In (probably mangled) Portugese, "o eixo" = the axis, spindle, hub, pivot, center line.
Summary: “Look,” Jack bit out, trying not to feel like he’d been called out in front of the headmaster, “It was a rookie mistake. It was stupid, and an oversight, and in the long run, it doesn’t make a difference.”
---
Vinho verde, in both the ancient Earth tradition and the revived traditions of O Novo Império, was meant to be drunk young. The slight effervescence, the gentle piquancy of the bouquet, faded and died over time. Dom-Commander Rui Carvalho sighed, lifting the glass into the gleam of hyperdrive. It was hard to get, out on the edges of Omega Sector. Harder still, given recent hostilities. He’d remedy that, once the Cravosian rebellion was quashed.
He sipped, letting the wine dance over his tongue, and grimaced. This bottle was well past its prime. Iaco never should have allowed it to be served. He shouted for his steward, intending a strict reprimand, and realized his throat had seized. His lungs struggled for breath. He watched, helpless, as Iaco burst through the door and dropped to his knees, searching for a pulse. “Damn,” the Dom heard. “Damn, damn, damn. Doctor!”
The man in black leather that pelted into the room wasn’t someone Carvalho had ever seen before. Nor, he realized, feeling the numbness in his hands and feet creeping swiftly towards his heart, would he ever see him again. Benina was a fast-acting toxin, with a very short period of stability. The wine, Rui Carvalho acknowledged ruefully, had likely been quite good after all.
And then he died.
---
“Look,” Jack bit out, trying not to feel like he’d been called out in front of the headmaster, “It was a rookie mistake. It was stupid, and an oversight, and in the long run, it doesn’t make a difference.”
“A man died, Captain,” the Doctor said, scowling at the cryopod’s trail. They’d launched it quickly. Having Carvalho’s body found was worse than having Carvalho missing, given the circumstances. Missing, the Cravosians could at least bluff at the upcoming negotiations. Found, the Dom’s team of negotiators would have to walk away. Hostilities would continue, the humanitarian teams would still be barred from all worlds known or suspected to harbor rebels, and the virulent strain of Havelian fever would spread further and further, until it threatened to wipe out the entire Sector.
It hadn’t happened before the Time War, Jack knew. Before the Time War, he’d visited Malaccadra and spent a lovely two weeks, local time. He’d intended to drag the Doctor there while Rose spent a few days with her mum. Jack did not want to spend a few days with Jackie Tyler. Nor, apparently, had the Doctor. It had been an easy sell.
Or it had until they’d arrived sixty years in the current future and found desolate, empty planets, unanswered distress calls, and, after some broad range scanning, a few tiny outposts of survivors strung out over now-vast planetary distances, eking out a living as best they could.
The Doctor’s face had gone blank, carefully so. The kind of careful Jack recognized, and he hadn’t argued when they’d materialized in the here-and-now, and the Doctor had explained the plan.
The plan that now wouldn’t work, since it basically involved incapacitating Carvalho, the current, dictatorial Dom, and squirreling him away until after peace negotiations had succeeded. Before the Time War, the Dom himself had taken ill, and emerged a changed man. After the Time War, the Dom had been successfully vaccinated. And thus the timelines shifted.
And would still shift, if they couldn’t figure out a solution. And figure out who’d slipped the Dom the poison. And - well, and a whole lot more, much of which bordered on the unlikely or miraculous. Jack hadn’t been travelling with the Doctor long, but he’d been around long enough that the miraculous part was the least of his worries.
Mostly, right now, he was worrying about what to say next. A man died, the Doctor had said, and the mask on his face had been cracking. Jack hadn’t been around long, but he knew frustration and anger and despair when he saw it.
“I know,” Jack managed. He did not say, and he was a dictatorial, pretentious bastard with delusions of grandeur. He had, at least, learned that much. “I know. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I didn’t check the bottle.”
“Maybe you did,” the Doctor snapped.
It took a moment for Jack to process his meaning. When he did, when the insinuation registered, he felt himself tense. And here is the crux of it. He’d had enough. “You can’t prove that. You can’t prove it, and if you need to try, then you shouldn’t be travelling with me.”
“Rose likes you.”
“It’s not Rose’s TARDIS.”
“Might as well be.”
Jack laughed, bitter. “Hardly. There isn’t anything that old girl wouldn’t do for you if she could. Including kick me out.”
“She likes you.”
“Not that much.” Jack forced himself to unclench his fists. “Doctor. Carvalho’s dead. I’m sorry about that. I am. But I didn’t kill him. And I wouldn’t have.”
The Doctor just looked at him sidelong.
“I might have,” Jack amended, and it was harder than he’d like to admit. “Before. Before I lost two years and woke up on the run.” Maybe. Even then, he’d tried to avoid it if he could. Even now, he knew that sometimes he couldn’t. “But even back then, this wouldn’t have been my choice. And I don’t know what else I can do, at this point, to make you believe it.”
The Doctor didn’t say anything, but he did look away, staring out the window again, watching the HUD tag Omega worlds as they come into range.
Jack had said his piece. He just waited.
“I won’t let this happen,” the Doctor said at last. It was low and harsh and there was something in it Jack understood, even if he couldn’t name it. It was Volcano Day and Grey and waking up lost all rolled into something far larger.
“We’ll fix it.” Jack wasn’t an innocent. He wasn't Rose. He knew the risks. But he also knew the Doctor, at least a little. “We will.” He said it like he meant it. He found he really did. “Some days, everybody lives.”
“Some days,” the Doctor answered, though Jack hadn’t been asking. “Some days.” He straightened, shrugging his jacket back into place. He clapped a hand on Jack’s shoulder, and it felt a little like forgiveness, and a little like apology. “C’mon then, flyboy. What’re we waiting for?”
“Damned if I know,” Jack Harkness answered, and followed.
Author:
wojelahRating: G
Prompt: Commander, in enemy territory, with a glass of wine, in a monorail
Spoilers/warnings: None.
A/N: In (probably mangled) Portugese, "o eixo" = the axis, spindle, hub, pivot, center line.
Summary: “Look,” Jack bit out, trying not to feel like he’d been called out in front of the headmaster, “It was a rookie mistake. It was stupid, and an oversight, and in the long run, it doesn’t make a difference.”
---
Vinho verde, in both the ancient Earth tradition and the revived traditions of O Novo Império, was meant to be drunk young. The slight effervescence, the gentle piquancy of the bouquet, faded and died over time. Dom-Commander Rui Carvalho sighed, lifting the glass into the gleam of hyperdrive. It was hard to get, out on the edges of Omega Sector. Harder still, given recent hostilities. He’d remedy that, once the Cravosian rebellion was quashed.
He sipped, letting the wine dance over his tongue, and grimaced. This bottle was well past its prime. Iaco never should have allowed it to be served. He shouted for his steward, intending a strict reprimand, and realized his throat had seized. His lungs struggled for breath. He watched, helpless, as Iaco burst through the door and dropped to his knees, searching for a pulse. “Damn,” the Dom heard. “Damn, damn, damn. Doctor!”
The man in black leather that pelted into the room wasn’t someone Carvalho had ever seen before. Nor, he realized, feeling the numbness in his hands and feet creeping swiftly towards his heart, would he ever see him again. Benina was a fast-acting toxin, with a very short period of stability. The wine, Rui Carvalho acknowledged ruefully, had likely been quite good after all.
And then he died.
---
“Look,” Jack bit out, trying not to feel like he’d been called out in front of the headmaster, “It was a rookie mistake. It was stupid, and an oversight, and in the long run, it doesn’t make a difference.”
“A man died, Captain,” the Doctor said, scowling at the cryopod’s trail. They’d launched it quickly. Having Carvalho’s body found was worse than having Carvalho missing, given the circumstances. Missing, the Cravosians could at least bluff at the upcoming negotiations. Found, the Dom’s team of negotiators would have to walk away. Hostilities would continue, the humanitarian teams would still be barred from all worlds known or suspected to harbor rebels, and the virulent strain of Havelian fever would spread further and further, until it threatened to wipe out the entire Sector.
It hadn’t happened before the Time War, Jack knew. Before the Time War, he’d visited Malaccadra and spent a lovely two weeks, local time. He’d intended to drag the Doctor there while Rose spent a few days with her mum. Jack did not want to spend a few days with Jackie Tyler. Nor, apparently, had the Doctor. It had been an easy sell.
Or it had until they’d arrived sixty years in the current future and found desolate, empty planets, unanswered distress calls, and, after some broad range scanning, a few tiny outposts of survivors strung out over now-vast planetary distances, eking out a living as best they could.
The Doctor’s face had gone blank, carefully so. The kind of careful Jack recognized, and he hadn’t argued when they’d materialized in the here-and-now, and the Doctor had explained the plan.
The plan that now wouldn’t work, since it basically involved incapacitating Carvalho, the current, dictatorial Dom, and squirreling him away until after peace negotiations had succeeded. Before the Time War, the Dom himself had taken ill, and emerged a changed man. After the Time War, the Dom had been successfully vaccinated. And thus the timelines shifted.
And would still shift, if they couldn’t figure out a solution. And figure out who’d slipped the Dom the poison. And - well, and a whole lot more, much of which bordered on the unlikely or miraculous. Jack hadn’t been travelling with the Doctor long, but he’d been around long enough that the miraculous part was the least of his worries.
Mostly, right now, he was worrying about what to say next. A man died, the Doctor had said, and the mask on his face had been cracking. Jack hadn’t been around long, but he knew frustration and anger and despair when he saw it.
“I know,” Jack managed. He did not say, and he was a dictatorial, pretentious bastard with delusions of grandeur. He had, at least, learned that much. “I know. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I didn’t check the bottle.”
“Maybe you did,” the Doctor snapped.
It took a moment for Jack to process his meaning. When he did, when the insinuation registered, he felt himself tense. And here is the crux of it. He’d had enough. “You can’t prove that. You can’t prove it, and if you need to try, then you shouldn’t be travelling with me.”
“Rose likes you.”
“It’s not Rose’s TARDIS.”
“Might as well be.”
Jack laughed, bitter. “Hardly. There isn’t anything that old girl wouldn’t do for you if she could. Including kick me out.”
“She likes you.”
“Not that much.” Jack forced himself to unclench his fists. “Doctor. Carvalho’s dead. I’m sorry about that. I am. But I didn’t kill him. And I wouldn’t have.”
The Doctor just looked at him sidelong.
“I might have,” Jack amended, and it was harder than he’d like to admit. “Before. Before I lost two years and woke up on the run.” Maybe. Even then, he’d tried to avoid it if he could. Even now, he knew that sometimes he couldn’t. “But even back then, this wouldn’t have been my choice. And I don’t know what else I can do, at this point, to make you believe it.”
The Doctor didn’t say anything, but he did look away, staring out the window again, watching the HUD tag Omega worlds as they come into range.
Jack had said his piece. He just waited.
“I won’t let this happen,” the Doctor said at last. It was low and harsh and there was something in it Jack understood, even if he couldn’t name it. It was Volcano Day and Grey and waking up lost all rolled into something far larger.
“We’ll fix it.” Jack wasn’t an innocent. He wasn't Rose. He knew the risks. But he also knew the Doctor, at least a little. “We will.” He said it like he meant it. He found he really did. “Some days, everybody lives.”
“Some days,” the Doctor answered, though Jack hadn’t been asking. “Some days.” He straightened, shrugging his jacket back into place. He clapped a hand on Jack’s shoulder, and it felt a little like forgiveness, and a little like apology. “C’mon then, flyboy. What’re we waiting for?”
“Damned if I know,” Jack Harkness answered, and followed.
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