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wintercompanion2007-12-14 08:10 pm
dameruth.livejournal.com) wrote in wintercompanion2007-12-14 08:10 pm
Entry tags:
dameruth: "Mistletoe" (Jack/Ten) [PG]
Title: "Mistletoe"
Author: dameruth
Challenge: Wide Open Grin
Rating: PG
Spoilers/warnings: Nothing in particular that I can think of . . .
Summary: Jack gets a Christmas visit from the Doctor. Takes place after "Glass Houses" from the "crossing the lines" challenge. Set in my AU "Flowers" series, but should be capable of standing alone.
Author: dameruth
Challenge: Wide Open Grin
Rating: PG
Spoilers/warnings: Nothing in particular that I can think of . . .
Summary: Jack gets a Christmas visit from the Doctor. Takes place after "Glass Houses" from the "crossing the lines" challenge. Set in my AU "Flowers" series, but should be capable of standing alone.
A/N - In my "Flowers" series (see link above to the Teaspoon archives), Time Lords and humans aren't biologically compatible, chemically or physically; however, intimacy can be initiated by the "Holy Grail" of drugs, the universal aphrodisiac.
I think that provides all the background necessary to follow along here . . . since I left the "Flowers" series on a bit of a downer previously, this challenge seemed the perfect place to fix that. I hope this bit of seasonal fluff will please. :) (And no, I still don't know what Jack and Ianto said to each other when they went to talk things over -- they haven't told me yet . . .) Thanks go to![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
aibhinn for the Doctor's introductory line here.
Jack hunched a little further into the warm wool of his greatcoat and dug his hands deeper into the pockets. The air coming in off the harbor was damp and sea-chilled. From his rooftop vantage point, he could see lights reflecting on the black, wrinkled water and scattered through the city streets. More lights than usual, given that it was Christmas Eve and there were decorations up -- some still lit even at this late hour. While one couldn’t quite say that nothing was stirring, Cardiff was still very, very quiet, relatively speaking.
The wind gusted a little harder, whipping Jack’s coattails against his legs. When it died down, he heard distant chimes striking midnight, ushering in Christmas Day. He counted them automatically, his thoughts inward and meditative.
Just as the twelfth chime fell silent, a low, velvety voice murmured in his ear, “Is that a Holy Grail in your pocket, or are you glad to see me?”
Jack levitated sideways, reaching for his holstered pistol even as he recognized the voice. By the time his feet touched the gravel of the rooftop again, his heart had resumed its normal rhythm and he dropped his right hand from the butt of the pistol. He glared at the slender figure next to him.
“What, trying to give the immortal a heart attack now? I warn you, I’ll wake up cranky if you do,” he said dryly, and was rewarded with a throaty chuckle and a flash of grinning white teeth in the gloom.
“Hardly,” the Doctor said, walking a little closer to the edge of the roof and craning his neck to look down at the street below with idle curiosity. “Just thought a Christmas surprise was in order.” He seemed in exceptionally good humor. His tone of voice was bright and cheerful and his weight was balanced forward on the balls of his feet, even though his hands were casually in his pockets.
Jack raised an eyebrow. “You’re sounding chipper.”
“I am chipper, in point of fact,” the Doctor said, turning his head to give Jack another flashing grin. “Thought it’d make a nice change, visiting you when I’m in a good mood – not all gloom-y and doom-y.” He put a wry twist on the last phrase that made Jack smile in spite of himself. “Aaaaaaaaannd, I thought you might like a little company for Christmas. I’m assuming all the others have gone?”
Jack moved to stand closer to the Doctor at the edge of the roof, their shoulders companionably close, but not touching.
“Yeah, I made sure to send ‘em home,” Jack said. “People should be with their friends and family tonight. Even Ianto -- he needs to remember there’s a life outside all of this.”
“Ah.” In the faint light from the streets below, Jack could see the flicker of the Doctor’s sidelong glance, suddenly serious. “And how are things with young Mr. Jones?”
Jack took a breath, and blew it out again. “Better. I had a talk with him. I think it helped.” He couldn’t resist adding, a little ruefully, “Talking usually does.”
“Mmm, so I’m finding out,” the Doctor murmured, half under his breath. He lifted his chin slightly, his sharp-edged profile and wind-ruffled hair faintly backlit. Then he glanced back towards Jack with another smile, changing moods with quicksilver speed. “So it’s just you on-guard tonight?”
“The Hub’s on autopilot and my pager’s in my pocket,” Jack told him. “If the equipment notices anything unusual, it’ll alert me. Besides, everything interesting always seems to happen over in London, this time of year.”
The Doctor laughed outright at that. “Indeed it does. All the same, I shouldn't cause any paradoxes if I tell you that nothing in particular will be happening here for, oh, at least twenty-four hours.”
Jack snorted at the Time Lord’s phrasing. “And then all hell will break loose. As usual.”
The Doctor rubbed his earlobe thoughtfully. “Did I say that?”
“You didn’t have to. Still, it’s nice to know we get one day off this year.”
The Doctor looked out over Cardiff, a faint smile playing around his lips. “’The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike / No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm / so hallow'd and so gracious is the time . . .’”
“Careful,” Jack said, bantering. “You start quoting Shakespeare at me, I’m gonna think you’re making a pass.”
That earned another laugh, followed by one of the sparkling, electric grins that made Jack want to grab the Doctor and snog him breathless, chemistry be damned.
“You know, the TARDIS wouldn’t mind seeing you again – she still feels bad about trying to shake you off. And she’s getting into the spirit of the season. She was even trying out decorations when I left.” The Doctor raised his eyebrows invitingly.
“Where are you parked?” Jack asked. If things really were gong to be quiet, it probably wouldn’t hurt to visit a while . . .
“A few rooftops over.”
“Good call,” Jack said, impressed. “How’d you know where I’d be?”
“Weellll, you aren’t hard to find, when one knows what to look for,” the Doctor admitted, sounding happily flattered all the same. “You know, I think she might even have gotten some mistletoe up by now.”
“Sorry, who?” Jack said, thrown by the rapid change of direction.
“The TARDIS,” the Doctor said, as if it were obvious.
Jack cocked his head questioningly, still a little lost.
“I haven’t told you why I’m in such a good mood, have I?” the Doctor asked. Without waiting for a response, he continued, “I’m delighted because an experiment I’ve been working on went very well. Exceptionally well, in fact.”
“And?” Jack circled one finger in a “please continue” gesture.
“And, I was a little off-base earlier – the Holy Grail isn’t in your pocket.” Looking exceptionally smug, the Doctor patted the breast pocket of his suit. “It’s in mine.”
Jack pricked up his ears. “You’ve worked out the synthesis?”
“Exactamente! And I do believe there’s some mistletoe with my name on it, this way . . .” the Doctor winked, and spun on his heel in the gravel. A few long-legged strides took him to the edge of the roof, and a metal ladder leading down to the next level. He caught the arching handrails and turned to begin his descent. When he realized Jack wasn’t following he stopped. Jack could just make out an expression of dismay.
“Er. Sorry,” the Doctor said. “I’m not very good at this sort of thing, really. That was a proposition, you realize?”
Jack had to laugh. “Yeah, I realize,” he said, reassuringly. “I was just surprised.”
“Then are you taking me up on it or not?”
“Oh, hell, yeah!” Jack shot back, as he started for the ladder. “Does this mean I can call you ‘Zoot’?”
“Possibly – if you can catch me. Onwards to TARDIS Anthrax!” The Doctor gave him one of his full-on, maniacal grins, kicked off from the side of the roof and slid down to the next level of the rooftop, using a light grip on the sides of the ladder to guide his controlled fall. He landed with a bounce, and was off.
Jack followed, grinning every bit as broadly. Chasing across rooftops after a flirtatious Time Lord – with mistletoe waiting at the end of the course – sounded very much like his idea of the perfect Christmas.
Santa must’ve decided I’m a good boy after all, he thought, either that, or this is what you get for being naughty . . .
Time to get a head start on next year, in that case.
I think that provides all the background necessary to follow along here . . . since I left the "Flowers" series on a bit of a downer previously, this challenge seemed the perfect place to fix that. I hope this bit of seasonal fluff will please. :) (And no, I still don't know what Jack and Ianto said to each other when they went to talk things over -- they haven't told me yet . . .) Thanks go to
aibhinn for the Doctor's introductory line here. Jack hunched a little further into the warm wool of his greatcoat and dug his hands deeper into the pockets. The air coming in off the harbor was damp and sea-chilled. From his rooftop vantage point, he could see lights reflecting on the black, wrinkled water and scattered through the city streets. More lights than usual, given that it was Christmas Eve and there were decorations up -- some still lit even at this late hour. While one couldn’t quite say that nothing was stirring, Cardiff was still very, very quiet, relatively speaking.
The wind gusted a little harder, whipping Jack’s coattails against his legs. When it died down, he heard distant chimes striking midnight, ushering in Christmas Day. He counted them automatically, his thoughts inward and meditative.
Just as the twelfth chime fell silent, a low, velvety voice murmured in his ear, “Is that a Holy Grail in your pocket, or are you glad to see me?”
Jack levitated sideways, reaching for his holstered pistol even as he recognized the voice. By the time his feet touched the gravel of the rooftop again, his heart had resumed its normal rhythm and he dropped his right hand from the butt of the pistol. He glared at the slender figure next to him.
“What, trying to give the immortal a heart attack now? I warn you, I’ll wake up cranky if you do,” he said dryly, and was rewarded with a throaty chuckle and a flash of grinning white teeth in the gloom.
“Hardly,” the Doctor said, walking a little closer to the edge of the roof and craning his neck to look down at the street below with idle curiosity. “Just thought a Christmas surprise was in order.” He seemed in exceptionally good humor. His tone of voice was bright and cheerful and his weight was balanced forward on the balls of his feet, even though his hands were casually in his pockets.
Jack raised an eyebrow. “You’re sounding chipper.”
“I am chipper, in point of fact,” the Doctor said, turning his head to give Jack another flashing grin. “Thought it’d make a nice change, visiting you when I’m in a good mood – not all gloom-y and doom-y.” He put a wry twist on the last phrase that made Jack smile in spite of himself. “Aaaaaaaaannd, I thought you might like a little company for Christmas. I’m assuming all the others have gone?”
Jack moved to stand closer to the Doctor at the edge of the roof, their shoulders companionably close, but not touching.
“Yeah, I made sure to send ‘em home,” Jack said. “People should be with their friends and family tonight. Even Ianto -- he needs to remember there’s a life outside all of this.”
“Ah.” In the faint light from the streets below, Jack could see the flicker of the Doctor’s sidelong glance, suddenly serious. “And how are things with young Mr. Jones?”
Jack took a breath, and blew it out again. “Better. I had a talk with him. I think it helped.” He couldn’t resist adding, a little ruefully, “Talking usually does.”
“Mmm, so I’m finding out,” the Doctor murmured, half under his breath. He lifted his chin slightly, his sharp-edged profile and wind-ruffled hair faintly backlit. Then he glanced back towards Jack with another smile, changing moods with quicksilver speed. “So it’s just you on-guard tonight?”
“The Hub’s on autopilot and my pager’s in my pocket,” Jack told him. “If the equipment notices anything unusual, it’ll alert me. Besides, everything interesting always seems to happen over in London, this time of year.”
The Doctor laughed outright at that. “Indeed it does. All the same, I shouldn't cause any paradoxes if I tell you that nothing in particular will be happening here for, oh, at least twenty-four hours.”
Jack snorted at the Time Lord’s phrasing. “And then all hell will break loose. As usual.”
The Doctor rubbed his earlobe thoughtfully. “Did I say that?”
“You didn’t have to. Still, it’s nice to know we get one day off this year.”
The Doctor looked out over Cardiff, a faint smile playing around his lips. “’The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike / No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm / so hallow'd and so gracious is the time . . .’”
“Careful,” Jack said, bantering. “You start quoting Shakespeare at me, I’m gonna think you’re making a pass.”
That earned another laugh, followed by one of the sparkling, electric grins that made Jack want to grab the Doctor and snog him breathless, chemistry be damned.
“You know, the TARDIS wouldn’t mind seeing you again – she still feels bad about trying to shake you off. And she’s getting into the spirit of the season. She was even trying out decorations when I left.” The Doctor raised his eyebrows invitingly.
“Where are you parked?” Jack asked. If things really were gong to be quiet, it probably wouldn’t hurt to visit a while . . .
“A few rooftops over.”
“Good call,” Jack said, impressed. “How’d you know where I’d be?”
“Weellll, you aren’t hard to find, when one knows what to look for,” the Doctor admitted, sounding happily flattered all the same. “You know, I think she might even have gotten some mistletoe up by now.”
“Sorry, who?” Jack said, thrown by the rapid change of direction.
“The TARDIS,” the Doctor said, as if it were obvious.
Jack cocked his head questioningly, still a little lost.
“I haven’t told you why I’m in such a good mood, have I?” the Doctor asked. Without waiting for a response, he continued, “I’m delighted because an experiment I’ve been working on went very well. Exceptionally well, in fact.”
“And?” Jack circled one finger in a “please continue” gesture.
“And, I was a little off-base earlier – the Holy Grail isn’t in your pocket.” Looking exceptionally smug, the Doctor patted the breast pocket of his suit. “It’s in mine.”
Jack pricked up his ears. “You’ve worked out the synthesis?”
“Exactamente! And I do believe there’s some mistletoe with my name on it, this way . . .” the Doctor winked, and spun on his heel in the gravel. A few long-legged strides took him to the edge of the roof, and a metal ladder leading down to the next level. He caught the arching handrails and turned to begin his descent. When he realized Jack wasn’t following he stopped. Jack could just make out an expression of dismay.
“Er. Sorry,” the Doctor said. “I’m not very good at this sort of thing, really. That was a proposition, you realize?”
Jack had to laugh. “Yeah, I realize,” he said, reassuringly. “I was just surprised.”
“Then are you taking me up on it or not?”
“Oh, hell, yeah!” Jack shot back, as he started for the ladder. “Does this mean I can call you ‘Zoot’?”
“Possibly – if you can catch me. Onwards to TARDIS Anthrax!” The Doctor gave him one of his full-on, maniacal grins, kicked off from the side of the roof and slid down to the next level of the rooftop, using a light grip on the sides of the ladder to guide his controlled fall. He landed with a bounce, and was off.
Jack followed, grinning every bit as broadly. Chasing across rooftops after a flirtatious Time Lord – with mistletoe waiting at the end of the course – sounded very much like his idea of the perfect Christmas.
Santa must’ve decided I’m a good boy after all, he thought, either that, or this is what you get for being naughty . . .
Time to get a head start on next year, in that case.
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And this:
“Er. Sorry,” the Doctor said. “I’m not very good at this sort of thing, really. That was a proposition, you realize?”
Loved! :)))
I was a bit lost by the 'call you Zoot' bit, but that aside this was lovely :) But you cut off before the interesting part!
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Heh -- well, I still *do* have that OT3 fic to finish, and smut takes forever to write. ;) RE: "Zoot," that was a Monty Python Holy Grail joke, referring to the adventure of Sir Galahad, which can be seen in all its, er, glory here:
http://youtube.com/watch?v=PC4ivU
If you like, it can provide pointers as to what might have happened next . . . :D
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Or a double batch of cookies???? Yes, I will resort to blackmail if I must!
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http://youtube.com/watch?v=PC4ivU__lVU
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“I am chipper, in point of fact,” the Doctor said, turning his head to give Jack another flashing grin. “Thought it’d make a nice change, visiting you when I’m in a good mood – not all gloom-y and doom-y.” He put a wry twist on the last phrase that made Jack smile in spite of himself. “Aaaaaaaaannd, I thought you might like a little company for Christmas. I’m assuming all the others have gone?”
Ah, brilliantly perfect Ten!!!
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Does this mean there are going to be ... spankings?
Lovely story -- and an excellent series, with a particularly well thought-out premise -- and nice to see a happy Doctor, and a happy Jack ... And a happy TARDIS, even. Happy all 'round. Yay!
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It's the time of year for happy. And I'm a sucker for it, even though I do tend to go around sounding like Nine most of the time in RL. ;)
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I loved these lines:
That earned another laugh, followed by one of the sparkling, electric grins that made Jack want to grab the Doctor and snog him breathless, chemistry be damned. That line got a YAY!
“Er. Sorry,” the Doctor said. “I’m not very good at this sort of thing, really. That was a proposition, you realize?” Perfect Doctor! :)
Great work as always!
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thanks!
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Oh, I do have a soft spot for Xmas fluff.
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Thanks for making me smile! *g*
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