Torchwood/Dr Who - fic - In His Own Image, Jack, Ten, PG
Title - In His Own Image
Author - laurab1
Rating - PG
Characters - Jack, Ten
Length - 380 words
Spoilers - 3.11 Utopia, 3.12 The Sound of Drums, vague for TW S1
Disclaimer - none of these people are mine
Feedback is loved and appreciated :) Enjoy!
Summary - "I did it for you, in your honour."
Written for wintercompanion, prompt used: The Doctor, Jack, and the end of that abbreviated Torchwood discussion
In His Own Image
by Laura
“Since we’re telling stories, there’s something I haven’t told you,” Jack confesses.
When he’s patched his Vortex Manipulator through to the laptop, ready to display the files he’s received, the reason for the guilt all over Jack’s face is clear: there’s the infamous honeycomb ‘T’, and all the pain of losing Rose comes flooding straight back.
They’d really had absolutely no idea what they were doing with that tear in space-time, Yvonne Hartman and her eight hundred staff. Stupid, thoughtless woman.
“You work for Torchwood?” he asks, incredulously.
“I swear to you, it’s different, it’s changed; there’s only half a dozen of us now.” Jack’s speaking far too fast.
“Everything Torchwood did, and you’re part of it?” The Doctor’s so very angry.
“The old regime was destroyed at Canary Wharf. I rebuilt it, I changed it, and when I did that, I did it for you, in your honour.”
Jack looks up at him, pleading with his eyes. The Doctor just glares back. “How long?” he finally asks, scrubbing his hands over his face. “How long have you been with them, Jack?”
Jack’s silent for a few minutes, before sighing. “Almost since the beginning,” he admits. “1890, I started. I’ve worked for Torchwood since 1891. Spent most of my first year being experimented on. Seems that one of them caught me reviving someone, with accompanying golden sparkles. Guess I should be grateful I made that trip to the US in 1892 on my own.”
Oh, Jack.
He stops for a few seconds. “Next thing I know, I’m in a cave and lying to my boyfriend about my job. Huh. Nearly one hundred and twenty years ago, and nothing’s changed.” He laughs; it sounds bitter.
“Who are these six people defending the Earth, then?” The Doctor suddenly needs to know.
“Other than me, there’s Toshiko, my computer expert, Owen, my doctor, Ianto, who wears far too many hats to count and Gwen, ex-police, curious as Alice. There’s also a strange man in Glasgow."
All of that is enough, for now. The rest of it will have to wait; they have a job to do. Turning away from Jack for a moment, the Doctor starts the video, and they listen to a woman who hadn’t bought a single word from Harry Saxon.
-end-
Genesis 1:27 So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them.
crosspost:
dwfiction
galactic_conman
new_who
tenxjack
torch_wood
torchwood_fic
torchwoodgenfic
Author - laurab1
Rating - PG
Characters - Jack, Ten
Length - 380 words
Spoilers - 3.11 Utopia, 3.12 The Sound of Drums, vague for TW S1
Disclaimer - none of these people are mine
Feedback is loved and appreciated :) Enjoy!
Summary - "I did it for you, in your honour."
Written for wintercompanion, prompt used: The Doctor, Jack, and the end of that abbreviated Torchwood discussion
In His Own Image
by Laura
“Since we’re telling stories, there’s something I haven’t told you,” Jack confesses.
When he’s patched his Vortex Manipulator through to the laptop, ready to display the files he’s received, the reason for the guilt all over Jack’s face is clear: there’s the infamous honeycomb ‘T’, and all the pain of losing Rose comes flooding straight back.
They’d really had absolutely no idea what they were doing with that tear in space-time, Yvonne Hartman and her eight hundred staff. Stupid, thoughtless woman.
“You work for Torchwood?” he asks, incredulously.
“I swear to you, it’s different, it’s changed; there’s only half a dozen of us now.” Jack’s speaking far too fast.
“Everything Torchwood did, and you’re part of it?” The Doctor’s so very angry.
“The old regime was destroyed at Canary Wharf. I rebuilt it, I changed it, and when I did that, I did it for you, in your honour.”
Jack looks up at him, pleading with his eyes. The Doctor just glares back. “How long?” he finally asks, scrubbing his hands over his face. “How long have you been with them, Jack?”
Jack’s silent for a few minutes, before sighing. “Almost since the beginning,” he admits. “1890, I started. I’ve worked for Torchwood since 1891. Spent most of my first year being experimented on. Seems that one of them caught me reviving someone, with accompanying golden sparkles. Guess I should be grateful I made that trip to the US in 1892 on my own.”
Oh, Jack.
He stops for a few seconds. “Next thing I know, I’m in a cave and lying to my boyfriend about my job. Huh. Nearly one hundred and twenty years ago, and nothing’s changed.” He laughs; it sounds bitter.
“Who are these six people defending the Earth, then?” The Doctor suddenly needs to know.
“Other than me, there’s Toshiko, my computer expert, Owen, my doctor, Ianto, who wears far too many hats to count and Gwen, ex-police, curious as Alice. There’s also a strange man in Glasgow."
All of that is enough, for now. The rest of it will have to wait; they have a job to do. Turning away from Jack for a moment, the Doctor starts the video, and they listen to a woman who hadn’t bought a single word from Harry Saxon.
-end-
Genesis 1:27 So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them.
crosspost:
dwfiction
galactic_conman
new_who
tenxjack
torch_wood
torchwood_fic
torchwoodgenfic