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wintercompanion2008-07-11 11:36 pm
sarkywoman.livejournal.com) wrote in wintercompanion2008-07-11 11:36 pm
Entry tags:
sarkywoman: A Different Kind of Academy Fic (Jack/10) [PG]
Title: A Different Kind of Academy Fic
Author/Artist:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sarkywoman
Challenge: AU
Rating: PG
Spoilers/warnings: No spoilers. Warnings for immense crack and use of the word penis.
Summary: We've all seen the Highschool AU done in various fandoms. And now it's here. I'm sorry. I don't know where it's going, how many chapters it will have, whether I'll get it finished or whether I'll need to... but I'm posting what I've done so far and working on more. Hopefully I'll get a fair amount of teen angst out before the challenge closes! There's also a really crappy drawing I did. I'm no artist.
A Different Kind of Academy Fic
The Doctor walked into the classroom, marvelling at how the chatter of the other children stopped instantly. The teacher looked down on him in more ways than one. “Are you the new boy?”
He contemplated that for a moment as the older woman pursed her lips at him. “I’ve always been a boy,” he answered eventually.
The woman tsked. “It’s that sort of attitude problem that has forced you to switch schools,” she said primly. “I don’t want to see you in trouble on your first day, so do watch what you say to your teachers.”
The Doctor nodded mutely. Being told off already. Hopefully Uncle Eccle wouldn’t find out. He shouted. A lot.
The woman, somewhere past middle age, pale and in a cardigan, waved a piece of paper in the Doctor’s face. It was his school record from Gallifrey High. It didn’t make for good reading material. Uncle Eccle had said it was a disgrace and tore up the copy he had received from the school. “Now tell me, young man,” the woman said, “How exactly do I pronounce this?”
The whole class was watching with interest. New kids were always something to pay attention to. The Doctor read his real name off of the piece of paper, watching the woman’s brow furrow as she tried to repeat it. Then he shook his head at her. “That’s wrong.”
“You are not the person to decide what is right and wrong in this room,” sniffed the woman authoritatively. “But if it’s such a complicated pronunciation, perhaps there is something else we should call you?”
He knew that whatever he said now would be his name for however long he remained at this school. He had to pick his choice wisely. In his old school, Gallifrey High, he had been called Theta Sigma frequently. But he hadn’t chosen that name then and he didn’t want to choose it willingly now. Maybe…just maybe…it was time for the secret name he gave himself to be heard out loud.
“Doctor,” he said with a smile. “I’m the Doctor.” He gave the class a little wave. A blonde girl giggled and waved back, a boy at the back wearing black rolled his eyes. He looked familiar.
“May I ask why you want to be called Doctor?” The teacher asked with confusion.
“Because I’m clever and I like to make people feel better,” he replied cheerily.
A loud voice called from the back of the class, “He can make me feel better anytime!” The comment was met with an uproar of giggles and shrieks of laughter.
The teacher furrowed her brown sternly. “Jack Harkness, if you do not be quiet, it’s the naughty room for you!”
“You know, Miss,” he responded with a cheeky glint in his eye, “in the olden days they used to spank naughty kids with a big stick.”
“You might be naughty,” said the boy in black, “but I’ve heard your stick is tiny.”
Almost every girl in the class gasped and Jack Harkness jumped from his seat, looking ready to hurt the boy in black. “You want a piece of me, you little weirdo nut-job?!”
“JACK HARKNESS, GO AND STAND OUTSIDE!” screamed the teacher, right near the Doctor’s ear.
Jack sighed the melodramatic sigh of a persecuted adolescent and meandered out of the room, winking at the bewildered Doctor on the way. He slammed the door behind him, making the new boy jump. The teacher just rolled her eyes. “Go find a seat, Doctor. I have to do the register.”
The Doctor looked around the room as the teacher began to call out names. The blonde girl who had waved before was now patting the seat beside her in invitation, which seemed to be thoroughly annoying the dark-skinned boy trying to sit in it. “Come on Mickey,” the girl whined, “We have to welcome the new kids, help them to fit in…”
“You just want him to sit there because you fancy him,” snapped Mickey.
The Doctor decided that he wouldn’t mind avoiding that little argument, so he walked past the bickering couple. Not many of the teens looked that friendly, but they were probably still sizing him up. The Doctor was confident he would make plenty of friends if he chose to.
He had reached the back row without finding an adequate seat, so he had to choose something back there now, really. Unless he wanted to continue roaming the classroom like some sort of wandering vagrant. Which he didn’t, really. His wanderings had got him in enough trouble at his last school. Best not to repeat the same mistakes.
Since a skinny boy with blond-brown hair was guarding Jack’s vacated seat with the ferocity of a guard-dog, the Doctor chose to sit in one of the empty seats around the boy in black. The boy eyed him suspiciously, so the Doctor beamed disarmingly. “I’ve seen you somewhere, I’m sure of it,” he said to start a conversation. “Did you ever attend Gallifrey High?”
The boy nodded slowly. “For a year.”
The Doctor frowned. “Why not longer?”
“The tutors were frightened of my radical plans. Old people are stagnant and frightened of change. All I did was make one single spherical killing machine. Just the one! But apparently, stealing body parts from the future and encasing them in metal and programming them to hail you as their Lord and Master goes against the school policies. How was I supposed to know that?!” the boy snapped. “It’s not written in the charter!”
“I suppose we must have been in separate divisions of classes then,” said the Doctor, not really wanting to discuss the applications of school ethics to the manufacture of metallic killing balls and choosing instead to discuss how they could have missed each other at their old school.
The boy nodded. “Suppose so.”
“What’s your name?” the Doctor asked politely.
“I am the Master,” replied the boy, straightening his back and trying to look imposing.
It was about that time that the teacher reached his name on the register and called out, “Koschei?”
Koschei sighed and slouched in his chair. “Here, miss.”
Neither boy spoke for a while as the teacher finished the register. Eventually though, the Doctor’s curiosity was killing him. “Why…”
Koschei didn’t let him finish the question. “Because one day I will rule over this centre of oppression and all the insignificant maggots herein will call me Master!”
It was at that point that a ball of rolled-up paper bounced off of Koschei’s head. The Doctor picked up the paper and unfurled it. It said, ‘when Jack gets back we are going to kill you’. “Well that’s not very nice,” muttered the Doctor, glancing back at the boy guarding Jack’s seat who had thrown the paper.
“It’s just Hart,” shrugged Koschei. “He’s not scary. Just Harkness’ current toy. I still maintain that he’s jealous because he feels threatened by me.”
“Why would he feel threatened?” The Doctor asked curiously. The finer points of social interaction tended to elude him.
“Because I’m the only person in the school Jack Harkness hasn’t shagged yet,” drawled Koschei with a sly grin.
“And he never will! He’s got taste!” John shouted across at them.
“John Hart!” snapped the teacher. She had finished the register and was slurping a drink from a mug through a straw. “Keep your voice down or you will have a detention in here with me at break!”
John slouched in his seat and settled for glaring at the two boys. The Doctor ignored him and turned to Koschei. “Would you rather I call you Koschei or Master?”
“Master,” replied the boy abruptly.
“Alright then, Master it is,” smiled the Doctor.
A bell rang, almost deafening the startled Doctor. “Time to head off,” the Master told him, lifting a black satchel over one shoulder and standing from his seat like the rest of the class. “I believe it’s technology first.”
The Doctor lifted his rucksack onto his shoulder and followed the crowd to the front of the classroom. The teacher nodded at him. Her drink seemed to have put some colour back in her cheeks. Funny, it looked like… “Master?” The Doctor nudged his new friend, “Is she drinking blood through a straw?”
The Master nodded, nonchalant about the whole thing. “Yeah, Mrs Finnegan has weird dietary requirements.”
The Doctor hesitated in the doorway to take another look at the alarming sight, but then John Hart barrelled past, knocking him to the floor.
“Careful John,” said an American accent reproachfully, “you knocked the new kid down!”
The Doctor found himself pulled upright by Jack Harkness. Behind him, John was scowling, still carrying Jack’s schoolbag as well as his own. But the Doctor couldn’t pay much attention to the hatred emanating off of the shorter teen, distracted as he was by Jack’s amazingly blue eyes. “Are you okay?” asked the other student as he brushed non-existent dust off of the Doctor’s coat and suit.
“Um…yeah. Yes, I’m fine. Thank you.”
Jack’s hands ceased their movement and one warm palm settled on the Doctor’s bony hip. “It was ‘Doctor’, right? That’s what you wanna be called?”
The Doctor nodded, still drawn irrationally to those eyes. Such an intense look had never been aimed at him before and it was making his face warm. Especially when Jack smiled in a dazzlingly handsome way.
“Leave him alone,” snapped the Master, pulling the Doctor from Jack’s grasp. “He’s only been here five minutes and you’re pawing at him already. Have some self-control.”
Jack sneered at the smaller boy. The ugly expression sharply contrasted his smile of a moment ago. “Don’t be so pathetic, Koschei. Are you really that desperate for a friend that you’ll try and keep him from everyone else?” Jack grabbed hold of the Doctor’s hand. “I think he can choose who to hang around with.”
The Doctor snatched his hand back. “Yes, I can.” He took hold of the Master’s hand. “Come on, let’s go.”
He stormed off down the corridor, almost dragging the Master along with him. Something about Jack’s tone had annoyed him. Besides, he clearly had enough friends. The Master obviously did not. That made the Doctor’s duty quite clear.
Three corridors later, the Master finally spoke up.
“You have no idea where you’re going, do you?”
*
They were a little bit late to Technology, but the Master assured him that nobody would notice. Apparently the teacher for the Plastics topic, Mr Nestene, was never around and mostly left the children to their own devices.
“Which suits me just fine,” the Master went on to say, accumulating a small pile of tools on the workbench. “I prefer it when teachers don’t nose into my personal business. It leaves me more time to get things done.”
The Doctor looked nervously around the room. It was a workshop of utter chaos, tools flying about the place, kids climbing on benches and sword-fighting with saws.
“Give me back my phone!” One girl screamed, chasing John around the room.
The boy laughed, outrunning her easily. “I’m gonna modify it, Gwen! With a hammer!”
The Doctor moved closer to the Master without thinking. “It’s rather…daunting.”
“I don’t pay it much attention,” the Master muttered, examining a sheet of yellow plastic with a critical eye. “More important things to do.”
“What are you making?” the Doctor asked inquisitively, watching the other boy unroll a drawn plan and hold pieces against each other.
“Nothing yet,” the Master replied distractedly. “I’m making a part of something. We have to study different technological areas at different times, so I can’t make the whole project at once.”
“But what is the project?” the Doctor asked as Gwen’s mobile phone went flying past his head.
“A satellite eventually,” the Master said as he measured out a piece of plastic. “This is just one of the components though.”
“What do you want to build a satellite for?” the Doctor asked inquisitively.
“To produce a mesmerising network to bend all occupants of the school to my bidding, of course,” the Master muttered irritably. “Hold this.”
The Doctor dutifully held onto the tape measure and watched his new friend work. “One thing…”
“What?!” the Master snapped at him. He clearly wasn’t used to being interrupted while he was working.
“Wouldn’t that be better at an angle of forty-five degrees? I’m assuming you’re going to balance it within a larger, metallic compartment…” when the Master just stared, the Doctor faltered. “…of course if I’m wrong and you’re doing something completely different, feel free to ignore me. But I think I’m right.”
The Master looked at the Doctor for an uncomfortable amount of time before turning the same analytical gaze onto his plastic template. “You are right. How… unexpected.”
“I could cut you a new piece at the new measurement if you like,” the Doctor offered, trying to help.
A smile slowly made its way onto the Master’s face. “That would be very useful.” He looked as though he was going to say more, but wrinkled his nose up and turned back to his work instead. Apparently ‘thank you’ wasn’t in his vocabulary.
The Doctor grinned to himself and got to work. He knew the boy was grateful, he didn’t need to hear the words. An easy atmosphere settled between them soon after they started working. Maybe it was a bond born from being the only two people in the room who were actually doing something productive. Well, them and the Japanese girl in the corner.
When the Doctor was sent to fetch some more materials from the cupboard, he almost got into a nasty accident. He whipped out one sheet of plastic from the bottom of the pile and it turned out a more integral part of the construction than he’d realised. The whole pile of plastics and tools wobbled precariously before falling in his direction.
There was a flash of light. When the Doctor opened his eyes, he was standing across the room from the cupboard and somebody’s arms were around his waist. He turned in the embrace to find he had encountered Jack Harkness again. “How…”
“Vortex thingy,” Jack said with a grin, taking one arm from the Doctor’s hips to show off the gizmo strapped to his wrist. “I saw you were about to get flattened, pressed a button, and…BAM!”
The Doctor took Jack’s hand to look more closely at the gadget, ignoring the boy’s slight smirk at the contact. “Oh, this is clever. I wish I had my glasses.”
“You wear glasses?”
“I don’t have to!” the Doctor cried defensively. “They just look kind of cool.”
“If you say so,” Jack grinned, though he was clearly holding back some sort of comment. “Of course, with a face like that you could probably make glasses sexy.”
The Doctor had no idea how to respond to a comment like that. Nobody had ever said anything like that to him at his old school. They had all thought he was a bit peculiar. “Um…did you make this?” he asked, trying to steer the conversation back to territory that wouldn’t make him blush.
Jack nodded. “Of course I did, I’m ace at this stuff.”
“You didn’t make it!” yelled the Japanese girl. “That’s my project and I want it back! I’ve spent weeks on that, Jack, you can’t just snatch it and pretend it’s your work!”
The Doctor let go of the teenager’s hand and pushed his other arm away. “You stole it?!?”
Jack shook his head. “Tosh said I could have it, she’s just freaking out for attention.”
“She does that,” John said from nearby, nodding seriously.
“Yeah, shut up Tosh!” said another scruffy boy.
“Shut up, Owen,” John said, shoving the scruffy boy for copying him.
“Doctor! Get back here with the materials!” yelled the Master from across the room. The Doctor made as if to head back to the pile of assorted objects that had fallen from the cupboard, but Jack grabbed his arm tightly.
“You’re letting him of all people boss you about? If you want to be somebody’s bitch, at least have the honour of being mine.” It was said with a grin, but something about the words felt horribly sincere.
The Doctor snatched his arm back out of Jack’s grasp. “I’m helping him. Not that you’d know anything about helping people.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jack said, narrowing his eyes. “You don’t know anything about me.”
The Doctor shook his head wearily. He didn’t want to get into an argument in his first lesson. “Just give the girl back her vortex manipulator. She must have worked really hard on it.”
Jack shrugged. “Okay, fine.” Not breaking eye contact with the Doctor, he undid the strap and threw the gadget back at Tosh pretty hard. The girl caught it with a wince. “See? No harm done. I’m sorry if she got all sensitive and upset about it.”
“I don’t think you’re sorry at all,” the Doctor said archly.
“I am!” Jack insisted. “How do I prove it to you?”
The Doctor shrugged. “I don’t know. Why do you want to? I wouldn’t have thought it mattered what the new kid thought of you.” He glanced over at John and Owen, who were watching the exchange avidly. “You seem to have no shortage of fans. Surely you don’t need more.”
“Always room for one more,” Jack said with a flirtatious grin.
The Doctor rolled his eyes. “You just can’t stop, can you?”
He didn’t wait for an answer, just turned and went to fetch the materials for the Master. The other boy looked at him curiously when he got back to the workbench they were sharing, but he didn’t ask many questions. Just said, “Harkness is used to people falling over themselves to be his friend. Captain of the football team and the rugby team and, to be painfully honest, not entirely stupid.”
“Well, he acts stupid,” the Doctor said, still feeling annoyed at the arrogant boy’s presumptuous behaviour.
“Oh, no disagreement there,” the Master said. “But at least he stopped you getting crushed beneath the tech tools. Death would have been a rather unfortunate beginning to your life at this school.” He frowned in thought. “Though it might have been more merciful than being forced to study here…”
The Doctor laughed as they worked together on a component for the Master’s satellite. He had chosen his first friend well, an intellectual equal.
Whenever he looked up from their work throughout the rest of the lesson, Jack was staring at him.
*
Biology was their second lesson. More specifically, Sex Education.
“What can they possibly teach me?” Jack said loudly as they were queuing up outside the classroom.
Miss Foster stepped out of the classroom and bid them walk in single file to their seats. She stopped the Doctor with a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Now hold on just a moment, dear. You’re new here, aren’t you?” She sighed. “I’m sorry, but without parental permission, you won’t be allowed to join in the class. This lesson deals with…sensitive subjects,” she whispered the last two words.
“Oh.” The Doctor felt slightly left out, but wasn’t about to argue. He didn’t know what the big deal was about this lesson anyway.
“Aww, but Miss Foster,” Jack called from his seat by the window, “how is he going to learn the ways of the world? Through word of mouth? Or worse…” he put on a deep, ominous tone of voice, “the hard way…”
Miss Foster noticeably shivered. “Oh, just you stop it, Jack Harkness. None of my children will learn their life lessons the hard way, as disappointing as that may be for you.” She patted the Doctor on the head. “I’ll make a call to your guardian, dear. Back in a moment.”
The Doctor sat in the only available seat, which was frustratingly close to Jack and quite far from the Master. “Why do you keep looking at me?” he hissed across the aisle to the other boy, who was sprawled back against his desk.
Jack shrugged. “You’re pretty. So happens I like looking at pretty things.”
The Doctor straightened in his seat and stared firmly towards the front of the classroom. He didn’t know what response he had been expecting, but that was not it. Pretty? Him? And what about that meant that Jack had to keep pestering him? “If you want to look at me, take a picture,” the Doctor grumbled.
“Maybe I will,” Jack said with a wink.
Miss Foster returned then, so the Doctor didn’t have to worry about Jack taking shots of him on his camera-phone. The woman walked over to the Doctor, her posture rigid but her smile warm. “I’ve spoken to your Uncle McGann and he says it’s perfectly acceptable, practically encouraged, for you to learn more about…” she lowered her voice again, “sensitive subjects.”
“Oh.” The Doctor contemplated this and found he had no opinion on the matter. “Good, I suppose.”
This response seemed to please Miss Foster. “Oh good. I’m so pleased you’re with us for this session.” She straightened up further to address the whole class. “This is a very important lesson, covering things about your bodies that you will need to know for future life.”
The Doctor’s eyes widened. That sounded rather ominous. What did Miss Foster know about his body that he didn’t? She’d only just met him!
The video enlightened him further. On a big flickering screen moved to the front of the classroom, Miss Foster played a film called ‘Funny Feelings and Knowing Yourself’.
The Doctor watched with a mixture of fascination and horror. He’d known in a round-about, factual sort of way that bodies connected to make babies, but this was…weird. He felt like the whole class could see him blushing, especially since most of his classmates seemed bored, as if they knew it all already.
So when a finger trailed down the back of his neck, he nearly jumped out of his seat. Hearts still racing, he glared at Jack, who had subtly shifted his chair across the gap so that he was right beside the Doctor. The boy just grinned at his murderous look. “I just thought you looked a little confused,” he whispered quietly, not wanting Miss Foster to tell him off for talking during the film.
“It’s…it’s a bit new,” the Doctor confessed, “But I’m a fast learner.”
Jack raised an eyebrow. “Glad to hear it.”
Both boys looked back at the screen, where an erection was being meticulously labelled. “Mine’s bigger,” Jack said nonchalantly. The Doctor blushed so much he thought his face would combust.
“I don’t think I really need to know that,” he said quietly.
“No law against advertising,” Jack smirked.
The Doctor couldn’t help but glance down at the crotch of Jack’s trousers, but as soon as he realised he was looking, he forced his attention back on the screen where they were only parading around the genitalia of complete strangers. Yep, no doubt about it, he was starting to understand those funny feelings they were talking about…
After the Rassilon-forsaken film was over, they were given bananas. One to share between two students, Miss Foster said. Then she asked for one of the partners to come up to the front and collect a condom. Another new term taught to the Doctor by the video – a piece of plastic for when you wanted to make babies without the babies.
There seemed to be no escaping having Jack as his partner, so the Doctor settled for sending the boy to go and fetch the condom. While he waited, he unpeeled the banana and began to eat it. His old school had never given out snacks during lessons.
The blonde girl, Rose, was gawping at him.
Soon Jack was sitting down next to him again. He slapped the metallic wrapper on the table. “Right, Miss Foster says we have to…” he trailed off.
“What?” the Doctor asked around the mouthful of banana.
“You’re eating the banana.”
“Mm-hm. What else would I do with it?”
Jack chewed his lip for a moment before saying what Miss Foster wanted them to do with it. The Doctor’s eyes widened, not for the first time that lesson, and he stared at the offensive metallic wrapper. “Why would we put a condom on a banana?”
Jack’s gaze seemed glued to the Doctor’s mouth. “Because…well…the banana is supposed to represent a penis.”
The Doctor looked down at the banana he was holding in his mouth and pulled out the bit he had not yet eaten. “A penis.”
“Yes. A spongy and fragile, semi-erect, yellow penis that we are to put a condom on.”
The Doctor eyed the half-eaten fruit. “But I’ve eaten half of it.”
Jack sighed. “I can see that. Oh well, only one thing to do. We’ve gotta ask for another one. Feel free to carry on eating that one, slowly as possible. Don’t be ashamed to use your tongue.”
Then he raised his hand. “Miss Foster! I can’t do the practical! The Doctor’s swallowed my penis!”
*
Author/Artist:
sarkywomanChallenge: AU
Rating: PG
Spoilers/warnings: No spoilers. Warnings for immense crack and use of the word penis.
Summary: We've all seen the Highschool AU done in various fandoms. And now it's here. I'm sorry. I don't know where it's going, how many chapters it will have, whether I'll get it finished or whether I'll need to... but I'm posting what I've done so far and working on more. Hopefully I'll get a fair amount of teen angst out before the challenge closes! There's also a really crappy drawing I did. I'm no artist.
A Different Kind of Academy Fic
The Doctor walked into the classroom, marvelling at how the chatter of the other children stopped instantly. The teacher looked down on him in more ways than one. “Are you the new boy?”
He contemplated that for a moment as the older woman pursed her lips at him. “I’ve always been a boy,” he answered eventually.
The woman tsked. “It’s that sort of attitude problem that has forced you to switch schools,” she said primly. “I don’t want to see you in trouble on your first day, so do watch what you say to your teachers.”
The Doctor nodded mutely. Being told off already. Hopefully Uncle Eccle wouldn’t find out. He shouted. A lot.
The woman, somewhere past middle age, pale and in a cardigan, waved a piece of paper in the Doctor’s face. It was his school record from Gallifrey High. It didn’t make for good reading material. Uncle Eccle had said it was a disgrace and tore up the copy he had received from the school. “Now tell me, young man,” the woman said, “How exactly do I pronounce this?”
The whole class was watching with interest. New kids were always something to pay attention to. The Doctor read his real name off of the piece of paper, watching the woman’s brow furrow as she tried to repeat it. Then he shook his head at her. “That’s wrong.”
“You are not the person to decide what is right and wrong in this room,” sniffed the woman authoritatively. “But if it’s such a complicated pronunciation, perhaps there is something else we should call you?”
He knew that whatever he said now would be his name for however long he remained at this school. He had to pick his choice wisely. In his old school, Gallifrey High, he had been called Theta Sigma frequently. But he hadn’t chosen that name then and he didn’t want to choose it willingly now. Maybe…just maybe…it was time for the secret name he gave himself to be heard out loud.
“Doctor,” he said with a smile. “I’m the Doctor.” He gave the class a little wave. A blonde girl giggled and waved back, a boy at the back wearing black rolled his eyes. He looked familiar.
“May I ask why you want to be called Doctor?” The teacher asked with confusion.
“Because I’m clever and I like to make people feel better,” he replied cheerily.
A loud voice called from the back of the class, “He can make me feel better anytime!” The comment was met with an uproar of giggles and shrieks of laughter.
The teacher furrowed her brown sternly. “Jack Harkness, if you do not be quiet, it’s the naughty room for you!”
“You know, Miss,” he responded with a cheeky glint in his eye, “in the olden days they used to spank naughty kids with a big stick.”
“You might be naughty,” said the boy in black, “but I’ve heard your stick is tiny.”
Almost every girl in the class gasped and Jack Harkness jumped from his seat, looking ready to hurt the boy in black. “You want a piece of me, you little weirdo nut-job?!”
“JACK HARKNESS, GO AND STAND OUTSIDE!” screamed the teacher, right near the Doctor’s ear.
Jack sighed the melodramatic sigh of a persecuted adolescent and meandered out of the room, winking at the bewildered Doctor on the way. He slammed the door behind him, making the new boy jump. The teacher just rolled her eyes. “Go find a seat, Doctor. I have to do the register.”
The Doctor looked around the room as the teacher began to call out names. The blonde girl who had waved before was now patting the seat beside her in invitation, which seemed to be thoroughly annoying the dark-skinned boy trying to sit in it. “Come on Mickey,” the girl whined, “We have to welcome the new kids, help them to fit in…”
“You just want him to sit there because you fancy him,” snapped Mickey.
The Doctor decided that he wouldn’t mind avoiding that little argument, so he walked past the bickering couple. Not many of the teens looked that friendly, but they were probably still sizing him up. The Doctor was confident he would make plenty of friends if he chose to.
He had reached the back row without finding an adequate seat, so he had to choose something back there now, really. Unless he wanted to continue roaming the classroom like some sort of wandering vagrant. Which he didn’t, really. His wanderings had got him in enough trouble at his last school. Best not to repeat the same mistakes.
Since a skinny boy with blond-brown hair was guarding Jack’s vacated seat with the ferocity of a guard-dog, the Doctor chose to sit in one of the empty seats around the boy in black. The boy eyed him suspiciously, so the Doctor beamed disarmingly. “I’ve seen you somewhere, I’m sure of it,” he said to start a conversation. “Did you ever attend Gallifrey High?”
The boy nodded slowly. “For a year.”
The Doctor frowned. “Why not longer?”
“The tutors were frightened of my radical plans. Old people are stagnant and frightened of change. All I did was make one single spherical killing machine. Just the one! But apparently, stealing body parts from the future and encasing them in metal and programming them to hail you as their Lord and Master goes against the school policies. How was I supposed to know that?!” the boy snapped. “It’s not written in the charter!”
“I suppose we must have been in separate divisions of classes then,” said the Doctor, not really wanting to discuss the applications of school ethics to the manufacture of metallic killing balls and choosing instead to discuss how they could have missed each other at their old school.
The boy nodded. “Suppose so.”
“What’s your name?” the Doctor asked politely.
“I am the Master,” replied the boy, straightening his back and trying to look imposing.
It was about that time that the teacher reached his name on the register and called out, “Koschei?”
Koschei sighed and slouched in his chair. “Here, miss.”
Neither boy spoke for a while as the teacher finished the register. Eventually though, the Doctor’s curiosity was killing him. “Why…”
Koschei didn’t let him finish the question. “Because one day I will rule over this centre of oppression and all the insignificant maggots herein will call me Master!”
It was at that point that a ball of rolled-up paper bounced off of Koschei’s head. The Doctor picked up the paper and unfurled it. It said, ‘when Jack gets back we are going to kill you’. “Well that’s not very nice,” muttered the Doctor, glancing back at the boy guarding Jack’s seat who had thrown the paper.
“It’s just Hart,” shrugged Koschei. “He’s not scary. Just Harkness’ current toy. I still maintain that he’s jealous because he feels threatened by me.”
“Why would he feel threatened?” The Doctor asked curiously. The finer points of social interaction tended to elude him.
“Because I’m the only person in the school Jack Harkness hasn’t shagged yet,” drawled Koschei with a sly grin.
“And he never will! He’s got taste!” John shouted across at them.
“John Hart!” snapped the teacher. She had finished the register and was slurping a drink from a mug through a straw. “Keep your voice down or you will have a detention in here with me at break!”
John slouched in his seat and settled for glaring at the two boys. The Doctor ignored him and turned to Koschei. “Would you rather I call you Koschei or Master?”
“Master,” replied the boy abruptly.
“Alright then, Master it is,” smiled the Doctor.
A bell rang, almost deafening the startled Doctor. “Time to head off,” the Master told him, lifting a black satchel over one shoulder and standing from his seat like the rest of the class. “I believe it’s technology first.”
The Doctor lifted his rucksack onto his shoulder and followed the crowd to the front of the classroom. The teacher nodded at him. Her drink seemed to have put some colour back in her cheeks. Funny, it looked like… “Master?” The Doctor nudged his new friend, “Is she drinking blood through a straw?”
The Master nodded, nonchalant about the whole thing. “Yeah, Mrs Finnegan has weird dietary requirements.”
The Doctor hesitated in the doorway to take another look at the alarming sight, but then John Hart barrelled past, knocking him to the floor.
“Careful John,” said an American accent reproachfully, “you knocked the new kid down!”
The Doctor found himself pulled upright by Jack Harkness. Behind him, John was scowling, still carrying Jack’s schoolbag as well as his own. But the Doctor couldn’t pay much attention to the hatred emanating off of the shorter teen, distracted as he was by Jack’s amazingly blue eyes. “Are you okay?” asked the other student as he brushed non-existent dust off of the Doctor’s coat and suit.
“Um…yeah. Yes, I’m fine. Thank you.”
Jack’s hands ceased their movement and one warm palm settled on the Doctor’s bony hip. “It was ‘Doctor’, right? That’s what you wanna be called?”
The Doctor nodded, still drawn irrationally to those eyes. Such an intense look had never been aimed at him before and it was making his face warm. Especially when Jack smiled in a dazzlingly handsome way.
“Leave him alone,” snapped the Master, pulling the Doctor from Jack’s grasp. “He’s only been here five minutes and you’re pawing at him already. Have some self-control.”
Jack sneered at the smaller boy. The ugly expression sharply contrasted his smile of a moment ago. “Don’t be so pathetic, Koschei. Are you really that desperate for a friend that you’ll try and keep him from everyone else?” Jack grabbed hold of the Doctor’s hand. “I think he can choose who to hang around with.”
The Doctor snatched his hand back. “Yes, I can.” He took hold of the Master’s hand. “Come on, let’s go.”
He stormed off down the corridor, almost dragging the Master along with him. Something about Jack’s tone had annoyed him. Besides, he clearly had enough friends. The Master obviously did not. That made the Doctor’s duty quite clear.
Three corridors later, the Master finally spoke up.
“You have no idea where you’re going, do you?”
*
They were a little bit late to Technology, but the Master assured him that nobody would notice. Apparently the teacher for the Plastics topic, Mr Nestene, was never around and mostly left the children to their own devices.
“Which suits me just fine,” the Master went on to say, accumulating a small pile of tools on the workbench. “I prefer it when teachers don’t nose into my personal business. It leaves me more time to get things done.”
The Doctor looked nervously around the room. It was a workshop of utter chaos, tools flying about the place, kids climbing on benches and sword-fighting with saws.
“Give me back my phone!” One girl screamed, chasing John around the room.
The boy laughed, outrunning her easily. “I’m gonna modify it, Gwen! With a hammer!”
The Doctor moved closer to the Master without thinking. “It’s rather…daunting.”
“I don’t pay it much attention,” the Master muttered, examining a sheet of yellow plastic with a critical eye. “More important things to do.”
“What are you making?” the Doctor asked inquisitively, watching the other boy unroll a drawn plan and hold pieces against each other.
“Nothing yet,” the Master replied distractedly. “I’m making a part of something. We have to study different technological areas at different times, so I can’t make the whole project at once.”
“But what is the project?” the Doctor asked as Gwen’s mobile phone went flying past his head.
“A satellite eventually,” the Master said as he measured out a piece of plastic. “This is just one of the components though.”
“What do you want to build a satellite for?” the Doctor asked inquisitively.
“To produce a mesmerising network to bend all occupants of the school to my bidding, of course,” the Master muttered irritably. “Hold this.”
The Doctor dutifully held onto the tape measure and watched his new friend work. “One thing…”
“What?!” the Master snapped at him. He clearly wasn’t used to being interrupted while he was working.
“Wouldn’t that be better at an angle of forty-five degrees? I’m assuming you’re going to balance it within a larger, metallic compartment…” when the Master just stared, the Doctor faltered. “…of course if I’m wrong and you’re doing something completely different, feel free to ignore me. But I think I’m right.”
The Master looked at the Doctor for an uncomfortable amount of time before turning the same analytical gaze onto his plastic template. “You are right. How… unexpected.”
“I could cut you a new piece at the new measurement if you like,” the Doctor offered, trying to help.
A smile slowly made its way onto the Master’s face. “That would be very useful.” He looked as though he was going to say more, but wrinkled his nose up and turned back to his work instead. Apparently ‘thank you’ wasn’t in his vocabulary.
The Doctor grinned to himself and got to work. He knew the boy was grateful, he didn’t need to hear the words. An easy atmosphere settled between them soon after they started working. Maybe it was a bond born from being the only two people in the room who were actually doing something productive. Well, them and the Japanese girl in the corner.
When the Doctor was sent to fetch some more materials from the cupboard, he almost got into a nasty accident. He whipped out one sheet of plastic from the bottom of the pile and it turned out a more integral part of the construction than he’d realised. The whole pile of plastics and tools wobbled precariously before falling in his direction.
There was a flash of light. When the Doctor opened his eyes, he was standing across the room from the cupboard and somebody’s arms were around his waist. He turned in the embrace to find he had encountered Jack Harkness again. “How…”
“Vortex thingy,” Jack said with a grin, taking one arm from the Doctor’s hips to show off the gizmo strapped to his wrist. “I saw you were about to get flattened, pressed a button, and…BAM!”
The Doctor took Jack’s hand to look more closely at the gadget, ignoring the boy’s slight smirk at the contact. “Oh, this is clever. I wish I had my glasses.”
“You wear glasses?”
“I don’t have to!” the Doctor cried defensively. “They just look kind of cool.”
“If you say so,” Jack grinned, though he was clearly holding back some sort of comment. “Of course, with a face like that you could probably make glasses sexy.”
The Doctor had no idea how to respond to a comment like that. Nobody had ever said anything like that to him at his old school. They had all thought he was a bit peculiar. “Um…did you make this?” he asked, trying to steer the conversation back to territory that wouldn’t make him blush.
Jack nodded. “Of course I did, I’m ace at this stuff.”
“You didn’t make it!” yelled the Japanese girl. “That’s my project and I want it back! I’ve spent weeks on that, Jack, you can’t just snatch it and pretend it’s your work!”
The Doctor let go of the teenager’s hand and pushed his other arm away. “You stole it?!?”
Jack shook his head. “Tosh said I could have it, she’s just freaking out for attention.”
“She does that,” John said from nearby, nodding seriously.
“Yeah, shut up Tosh!” said another scruffy boy.
“Shut up, Owen,” John said, shoving the scruffy boy for copying him.
“Doctor! Get back here with the materials!” yelled the Master from across the room. The Doctor made as if to head back to the pile of assorted objects that had fallen from the cupboard, but Jack grabbed his arm tightly.
“You’re letting him of all people boss you about? If you want to be somebody’s bitch, at least have the honour of being mine.” It was said with a grin, but something about the words felt horribly sincere.
The Doctor snatched his arm back out of Jack’s grasp. “I’m helping him. Not that you’d know anything about helping people.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jack said, narrowing his eyes. “You don’t know anything about me.”
The Doctor shook his head wearily. He didn’t want to get into an argument in his first lesson. “Just give the girl back her vortex manipulator. She must have worked really hard on it.”
Jack shrugged. “Okay, fine.” Not breaking eye contact with the Doctor, he undid the strap and threw the gadget back at Tosh pretty hard. The girl caught it with a wince. “See? No harm done. I’m sorry if she got all sensitive and upset about it.”
“I don’t think you’re sorry at all,” the Doctor said archly.
“I am!” Jack insisted. “How do I prove it to you?”
The Doctor shrugged. “I don’t know. Why do you want to? I wouldn’t have thought it mattered what the new kid thought of you.” He glanced over at John and Owen, who were watching the exchange avidly. “You seem to have no shortage of fans. Surely you don’t need more.”
“Always room for one more,” Jack said with a flirtatious grin.
The Doctor rolled his eyes. “You just can’t stop, can you?”
He didn’t wait for an answer, just turned and went to fetch the materials for the Master. The other boy looked at him curiously when he got back to the workbench they were sharing, but he didn’t ask many questions. Just said, “Harkness is used to people falling over themselves to be his friend. Captain of the football team and the rugby team and, to be painfully honest, not entirely stupid.”
“Well, he acts stupid,” the Doctor said, still feeling annoyed at the arrogant boy’s presumptuous behaviour.
“Oh, no disagreement there,” the Master said. “But at least he stopped you getting crushed beneath the tech tools. Death would have been a rather unfortunate beginning to your life at this school.” He frowned in thought. “Though it might have been more merciful than being forced to study here…”
The Doctor laughed as they worked together on a component for the Master’s satellite. He had chosen his first friend well, an intellectual equal.
Whenever he looked up from their work throughout the rest of the lesson, Jack was staring at him.
*
Biology was their second lesson. More specifically, Sex Education.
“What can they possibly teach me?” Jack said loudly as they were queuing up outside the classroom.
Miss Foster stepped out of the classroom and bid them walk in single file to their seats. She stopped the Doctor with a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Now hold on just a moment, dear. You’re new here, aren’t you?” She sighed. “I’m sorry, but without parental permission, you won’t be allowed to join in the class. This lesson deals with…sensitive subjects,” she whispered the last two words.
“Oh.” The Doctor felt slightly left out, but wasn’t about to argue. He didn’t know what the big deal was about this lesson anyway.
“Aww, but Miss Foster,” Jack called from his seat by the window, “how is he going to learn the ways of the world? Through word of mouth? Or worse…” he put on a deep, ominous tone of voice, “the hard way…”
Miss Foster noticeably shivered. “Oh, just you stop it, Jack Harkness. None of my children will learn their life lessons the hard way, as disappointing as that may be for you.” She patted the Doctor on the head. “I’ll make a call to your guardian, dear. Back in a moment.”
The Doctor sat in the only available seat, which was frustratingly close to Jack and quite far from the Master. “Why do you keep looking at me?” he hissed across the aisle to the other boy, who was sprawled back against his desk.
Jack shrugged. “You’re pretty. So happens I like looking at pretty things.”
The Doctor straightened in his seat and stared firmly towards the front of the classroom. He didn’t know what response he had been expecting, but that was not it. Pretty? Him? And what about that meant that Jack had to keep pestering him? “If you want to look at me, take a picture,” the Doctor grumbled.
“Maybe I will,” Jack said with a wink.
Miss Foster returned then, so the Doctor didn’t have to worry about Jack taking shots of him on his camera-phone. The woman walked over to the Doctor, her posture rigid but her smile warm. “I’ve spoken to your Uncle McGann and he says it’s perfectly acceptable, practically encouraged, for you to learn more about…” she lowered her voice again, “sensitive subjects.”
“Oh.” The Doctor contemplated this and found he had no opinion on the matter. “Good, I suppose.”
This response seemed to please Miss Foster. “Oh good. I’m so pleased you’re with us for this session.” She straightened up further to address the whole class. “This is a very important lesson, covering things about your bodies that you will need to know for future life.”
The Doctor’s eyes widened. That sounded rather ominous. What did Miss Foster know about his body that he didn’t? She’d only just met him!
The video enlightened him further. On a big flickering screen moved to the front of the classroom, Miss Foster played a film called ‘Funny Feelings and Knowing Yourself’.
The Doctor watched with a mixture of fascination and horror. He’d known in a round-about, factual sort of way that bodies connected to make babies, but this was…weird. He felt like the whole class could see him blushing, especially since most of his classmates seemed bored, as if they knew it all already.
So when a finger trailed down the back of his neck, he nearly jumped out of his seat. Hearts still racing, he glared at Jack, who had subtly shifted his chair across the gap so that he was right beside the Doctor. The boy just grinned at his murderous look. “I just thought you looked a little confused,” he whispered quietly, not wanting Miss Foster to tell him off for talking during the film.
“It’s…it’s a bit new,” the Doctor confessed, “But I’m a fast learner.”
Jack raised an eyebrow. “Glad to hear it.”
Both boys looked back at the screen, where an erection was being meticulously labelled. “Mine’s bigger,” Jack said nonchalantly. The Doctor blushed so much he thought his face would combust.
“I don’t think I really need to know that,” he said quietly.
“No law against advertising,” Jack smirked.
The Doctor couldn’t help but glance down at the crotch of Jack’s trousers, but as soon as he realised he was looking, he forced his attention back on the screen where they were only parading around the genitalia of complete strangers. Yep, no doubt about it, he was starting to understand those funny feelings they were talking about…
After the Rassilon-forsaken film was over, they were given bananas. One to share between two students, Miss Foster said. Then she asked for one of the partners to come up to the front and collect a condom. Another new term taught to the Doctor by the video – a piece of plastic for when you wanted to make babies without the babies.
There seemed to be no escaping having Jack as his partner, so the Doctor settled for sending the boy to go and fetch the condom. While he waited, he unpeeled the banana and began to eat it. His old school had never given out snacks during lessons.
The blonde girl, Rose, was gawping at him.
Soon Jack was sitting down next to him again. He slapped the metallic wrapper on the table. “Right, Miss Foster says we have to…” he trailed off.
“What?” the Doctor asked around the mouthful of banana.
“You’re eating the banana.”
“Mm-hm. What else would I do with it?”
Jack chewed his lip for a moment before saying what Miss Foster wanted them to do with it. The Doctor’s eyes widened, not for the first time that lesson, and he stared at the offensive metallic wrapper. “Why would we put a condom on a banana?”
Jack’s gaze seemed glued to the Doctor’s mouth. “Because…well…the banana is supposed to represent a penis.”
The Doctor looked down at the banana he was holding in his mouth and pulled out the bit he had not yet eaten. “A penis.”
“Yes. A spongy and fragile, semi-erect, yellow penis that we are to put a condom on.”
The Doctor eyed the half-eaten fruit. “But I’ve eaten half of it.”
Jack sighed. “I can see that. Oh well, only one thing to do. We’ve gotta ask for another one. Feel free to carry on eating that one, slowly as possible. Don’t be ashamed to use your tongue.”
Then he raised his hand. “Miss Foster! I can’t do the practical! The Doctor’s swallowed my penis!”
*
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