Torchwood/Dr Who - fic - The Torchwood Girls, Part 9, Jack, Joan Redfern, OCs, Nine, PG
Title - The Torchwood Girls, Part 9 (final version)
Author - laurab1
Characters/Pairings - Jack, Joan Redfern, OCs, Nine
Rating - PG
Length - approx 1460 words
Spoilers - TW: general series, DW: to 3.11-13
Summary - The Hub is once again descended upon by a group of women, for a crash course in Torchwood.
Disclaimer: alas, none of these people are mine
Feedback is loved and appreciated :) Enjoy!
Previous parts:
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8
The Torchwood Girls
by Laura
Part 9
After the day of truths, Jack knows he has to call the women and tell them what the real situation is. But one of them calls him, instead.
"I've read the news. We won't be working within your existing team, will we, Captain?" Jennifer asks.
"No, Jenny, I don't think you will be," Jack eventually admits, "you'll be the team, instead."
"Well, Captain, you'd better get us all back to Cardiff, then, so we know how to use the equipment you have in that secret base of yours."
She's ahead of him. Good girl. "Just what I was planning to do, Jennifer Porter. Is the weekend okay?"
***
And so, the Hub is once again descended upon by a group of women, for a crash course in Torchwood. Eleanor, Penelope, Jennifer and Amy arrive with luggage, prepared to stay in the Hub for a few weeks.
Once the greetings and paperwork are out of the way, Torchwood Three has four new officers. Then the training starts. General presentations by everyone to all the new recruits, Jack had declared. Fitted in around any visiting aliens, of course. First off, Andrew details the medical lab/autopsy area. On the Monday, Michael takes the women to the archives, shows them the phone-tapping equipment. Tuesday, Simon runs them through the translation documents, programs and tech. The following day, Ioan explains some of the future tech that's come through the Rift.
Finally, with assistance from Eleanor, Jack teaches Penelope, Jennifer and Amy how to shoot. As they haven't failed him yet, and have occasionally earned him a night in bed with his new recruit, or recruits, Jack uses his standard moves: standing close behind the other person, a hand over hers on the gun, gently manoeuvring her arms in the correct position, words of encouragement, strokes of her hair. The hand on her stomach, pressing her up against his body, getting her to focus on breathing correctly, and then, at last, letting the bullet go.
Okay, so he's thoroughly shameless. He knows exactly what it all looks and feels like, which is why he does it. Everyone smiles, in satisfaction at a job well done.
***
Once again, Jack gives his men the options; King and country, or aliens and the whole planet.
In the end, there really isn't any question. Within a couple of weeks, all of Jack's team have joined up. With their education and the positions they'll have just left, they'll be subalterns, or 2nd lieutenants in the Army.
Having figuratively (but not literally, more's the pity, and not for want of trying) kissed his men goodbye, when they do leave him, Jack is as prepared as he's ever going to be to let them go. Most probably to their deaths. They all know this, but no-one's going to admit it out loud. Even on one last evening out, all ten of them.
A night which Dr Penelope White spends most of eyeing him. "Your coat, Jack. It's naval issue, is it not?" she finally asks.
What's she getting at? "Yeah. I... acquired it about ten years ago, but I removed the insignia. Never really felt anything for the water." Jack's heard (and seen) all the stories, and has to chuckle, despite himself. "I'm a soldier and a pilot, not a sailor." He takes a breath, a little surprised that he revealed that.
***
Before Jack knows it, he's left Joan and the girls running the show in Cardiff, entrusting her with his Vortex Manipulator, and Eleanor with his Webley. As for him, he's a colonel in the Royal Flying Corps, with yet another group of men under his command. He's charged with a de Havilland BE-2 biplane. It really is quite possibly the most ungainly machine he's ever set eyes on.
"Feeling really guilty here, ma'am, for thinking disrespectfully of you," Jack soberly tells the plane, a hand on her main body, "but you're really not all that pretty." This is pretty much just how he'd speak to the TARDIS! As such, expecting sparks, Jack quickly removes his hand.
There aren't any, of course, and he laughs, rather awkwardly.
This plane's a first step, though. Twenty five years' time, the next time this whole dreadful mess happens, the planes will be better. Spitfires, for example. Now, there was a hot little plane. Sweet goddesses, he can't wait to fly one of them, again. Just over forty years' time, the same kind of mindsets that made these planes will get a man into space.
"Time to start saving the world, then. Show the Captain what you've got, sweetheart," he says, as he and his navigator climb in, fire up the engines and lead the twelve aircraft of Number Three Squadron, RFC off to Europe, and then on their first recon sortie.
***
In late September 1914, Joan encounters her latest alien. Eleanor, Penelope, Jennifer and Amy encounter their first. They all thank a God that none of them are completely sure they still believe in that the alien isn't hostile. It would appear to be just a lost male child, in his small spacecraft, caught up and spat out by the Rift, which left him right on their doorstep, actually in the Hub.
They establish that the boy's from Metazonica, manipulate the Rift, and let the purple-skinned humanoid take the scapesono home with him, much to his delight.
"Won't Jack be angry?" Amy asks her.
"No," Joan says, after very briefly considering the question. She's sat at Jack's, well, her desk, now. "He'd probably have done the same thing himself. Anyway, another one may well turn up, at some point."
***
"It'll be over by Christmas," the generals will keep falsely promising, throughout this war, and the next one.
"Yeah, right," Jack sighs, sat in the officers' mess, somewhere in France. Here they are, December 1914, and the whole thing has barely started. The Second World War will be a kind of continuation of this one, the Great War. Then there's the late 1980s, when the Berliners tear down The Wall, and the rest of the Eastern Europeans decide they've also had enough of Communism - dictators, constantly watching their backs, secret police and being told what to do by Moscow.
If Jack's aim with his Manipulator had been even worse than it actually was...
Half a league half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred:
'Forward, the Light Brigade!
Charge for the guns' he said:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
Moscow's never liked her children, or anyone else, really, saying she's a bully.
Whatever, there's always another war to fight.
And that particular one is seventy five years away. Jack knows he has to focus on the now, and his squad, which is full of brave, good men. The fact that some of them are absolutely gorgeous is a very pleasant added bonus. There's a particularly cute guy from... Manchester. Jack's still a sucker for the accent, despite himself. Second Lieutenant Paul Weston's 27, with dark hair, and dark eyes. They've kissed a few times, but anything more than that is too dangerous.
The RFC have been flying recon missions for the troops for the last four months. Before every sortie, Jack re-focuses his telepathy and empathy, completely dropping his mental shields, and checks his men. He'll leave his shields half up, during the mission, and then put them all the way back up again, afterwards.
Otherwise, there's just far too much to deal with, far too much to listen to...
"You're broadcasting like a satellite, Doctor," Jack said, as they repaired the TARDIS console.
"So don't listen, Captain," the Doctor replied, snorting a little.
Jack put down his spanner, and took the sonic from the Doctor. "Too loud for me not to listen. Look, I know Rose is helping with this," Jack said, placing his hand on the Doctor's chest, "and this," he continued, placing his other hand on the Doctor's temple, "as much as she can. But we both know I could probably help a little more with that head of yours."
"You, Captain?" the Doctor said, as though Jack's suggestion was stupid.
Which it was, and Jack knew this. "Yeah, me. Well, if I was more... together, y'know."
"Two of a kind, we are, Jack. An' I don't know if I want any help with me head, yet."
"I figured that, Doctor. So you're gonna have to teach me how to not listen, how to... turn my telepathy and empathy off, I guess, when I need to. All right?"
"All right, Jack," the Doctor agreed. "We can do that. We're finishing trying to fix your mind, first, though, okay?"
"Yeah."
Number Three Squadron's first battle honours were earned at Mons, 23 August 1914, the first confrontation of the war between British and German forces.
And as those forces declare a Christmas truce, Jack wonders how his women are coping without him.
Note - The poem referenced above is The Charge Of The Light Brigade by Alfred, Lord Tennyson. It's about the Battle of Balaclava, during the Crimean War.
Cast list:
Amy - Jewel Staite
Joan - Jessica Hynes (née Stevenson)
Penny - Gillian Anderson
Eleanor - Nigella Lawson
Jennifer - Allison Mack
Continue to final version of Part 10
Author - laurab1
Characters/Pairings - Jack, Joan Redfern, OCs, Nine
Rating - PG
Length - approx 1460 words
Spoilers - TW: general series, DW: to 3.11-13
Summary - The Hub is once again descended upon by a group of women, for a crash course in Torchwood.
Disclaimer: alas, none of these people are mine
Feedback is loved and appreciated :) Enjoy!
Previous parts:
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8
The Torchwood Girls
by Laura
Part 9
After the day of truths, Jack knows he has to call the women and tell them what the real situation is. But one of them calls him, instead.
"I've read the news. We won't be working within your existing team, will we, Captain?" Jennifer asks.
"No, Jenny, I don't think you will be," Jack eventually admits, "you'll be the team, instead."
"Well, Captain, you'd better get us all back to Cardiff, then, so we know how to use the equipment you have in that secret base of yours."
She's ahead of him. Good girl. "Just what I was planning to do, Jennifer Porter. Is the weekend okay?"
***
And so, the Hub is once again descended upon by a group of women, for a crash course in Torchwood. Eleanor, Penelope, Jennifer and Amy arrive with luggage, prepared to stay in the Hub for a few weeks.
Once the greetings and paperwork are out of the way, Torchwood Three has four new officers. Then the training starts. General presentations by everyone to all the new recruits, Jack had declared. Fitted in around any visiting aliens, of course. First off, Andrew details the medical lab/autopsy area. On the Monday, Michael takes the women to the archives, shows them the phone-tapping equipment. Tuesday, Simon runs them through the translation documents, programs and tech. The following day, Ioan explains some of the future tech that's come through the Rift.
Finally, with assistance from Eleanor, Jack teaches Penelope, Jennifer and Amy how to shoot. As they haven't failed him yet, and have occasionally earned him a night in bed with his new recruit, or recruits, Jack uses his standard moves: standing close behind the other person, a hand over hers on the gun, gently manoeuvring her arms in the correct position, words of encouragement, strokes of her hair. The hand on her stomach, pressing her up against his body, getting her to focus on breathing correctly, and then, at last, letting the bullet go.
Okay, so he's thoroughly shameless. He knows exactly what it all looks and feels like, which is why he does it. Everyone smiles, in satisfaction at a job well done.
***
Once again, Jack gives his men the options; King and country, or aliens and the whole planet.
In the end, there really isn't any question. Within a couple of weeks, all of Jack's team have joined up. With their education and the positions they'll have just left, they'll be subalterns, or 2nd lieutenants in the Army.
Having figuratively (but not literally, more's the pity, and not for want of trying) kissed his men goodbye, when they do leave him, Jack is as prepared as he's ever going to be to let them go. Most probably to their deaths. They all know this, but no-one's going to admit it out loud. Even on one last evening out, all ten of them.
A night which Dr Penelope White spends most of eyeing him. "Your coat, Jack. It's naval issue, is it not?" she finally asks.
What's she getting at? "Yeah. I... acquired it about ten years ago, but I removed the insignia. Never really felt anything for the water." Jack's heard (and seen) all the stories, and has to chuckle, despite himself. "I'm a soldier and a pilot, not a sailor." He takes a breath, a little surprised that he revealed that.
***
Before Jack knows it, he's left Joan and the girls running the show in Cardiff, entrusting her with his Vortex Manipulator, and Eleanor with his Webley. As for him, he's a colonel in the Royal Flying Corps, with yet another group of men under his command. He's charged with a de Havilland BE-2 biplane. It really is quite possibly the most ungainly machine he's ever set eyes on.
"Feeling really guilty here, ma'am, for thinking disrespectfully of you," Jack soberly tells the plane, a hand on her main body, "but you're really not all that pretty." This is pretty much just how he'd speak to the TARDIS! As such, expecting sparks, Jack quickly removes his hand.
There aren't any, of course, and he laughs, rather awkwardly.
This plane's a first step, though. Twenty five years' time, the next time this whole dreadful mess happens, the planes will be better. Spitfires, for example. Now, there was a hot little plane. Sweet goddesses, he can't wait to fly one of them, again. Just over forty years' time, the same kind of mindsets that made these planes will get a man into space.
"Time to start saving the world, then. Show the Captain what you've got, sweetheart," he says, as he and his navigator climb in, fire up the engines and lead the twelve aircraft of Number Three Squadron, RFC off to Europe, and then on their first recon sortie.
***
In late September 1914, Joan encounters her latest alien. Eleanor, Penelope, Jennifer and Amy encounter their first. They all thank a God that none of them are completely sure they still believe in that the alien isn't hostile. It would appear to be just a lost male child, in his small spacecraft, caught up and spat out by the Rift, which left him right on their doorstep, actually in the Hub.
They establish that the boy's from Metazonica, manipulate the Rift, and let the purple-skinned humanoid take the scapesono home with him, much to his delight.
"Won't Jack be angry?" Amy asks her.
"No," Joan says, after very briefly considering the question. She's sat at Jack's, well, her desk, now. "He'd probably have done the same thing himself. Anyway, another one may well turn up, at some point."
***
"It'll be over by Christmas," the generals will keep falsely promising, throughout this war, and the next one.
"Yeah, right," Jack sighs, sat in the officers' mess, somewhere in France. Here they are, December 1914, and the whole thing has barely started. The Second World War will be a kind of continuation of this one, the Great War. Then there's the late 1980s, when the Berliners tear down The Wall, and the rest of the Eastern Europeans decide they've also had enough of Communism - dictators, constantly watching their backs, secret police and being told what to do by Moscow.
If Jack's aim with his Manipulator had been even worse than it actually was...
Half a league half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred:
'Forward, the Light Brigade!
Charge for the guns' he said:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
Moscow's never liked her children, or anyone else, really, saying she's a bully.
Whatever, there's always another war to fight.
And that particular one is seventy five years away. Jack knows he has to focus on the now, and his squad, which is full of brave, good men. The fact that some of them are absolutely gorgeous is a very pleasant added bonus. There's a particularly cute guy from... Manchester. Jack's still a sucker for the accent, despite himself. Second Lieutenant Paul Weston's 27, with dark hair, and dark eyes. They've kissed a few times, but anything more than that is too dangerous.
The RFC have been flying recon missions for the troops for the last four months. Before every sortie, Jack re-focuses his telepathy and empathy, completely dropping his mental shields, and checks his men. He'll leave his shields half up, during the mission, and then put them all the way back up again, afterwards.
Otherwise, there's just far too much to deal with, far too much to listen to...
"You're broadcasting like a satellite, Doctor," Jack said, as they repaired the TARDIS console.
"So don't listen, Captain," the Doctor replied, snorting a little.
Jack put down his spanner, and took the sonic from the Doctor. "Too loud for me not to listen. Look, I know Rose is helping with this," Jack said, placing his hand on the Doctor's chest, "and this," he continued, placing his other hand on the Doctor's temple, "as much as she can. But we both know I could probably help a little more with that head of yours."
"You, Captain?" the Doctor said, as though Jack's suggestion was stupid.
Which it was, and Jack knew this. "Yeah, me. Well, if I was more... together, y'know."
"Two of a kind, we are, Jack. An' I don't know if I want any help with me head, yet."
"I figured that, Doctor. So you're gonna have to teach me how to not listen, how to... turn my telepathy and empathy off, I guess, when I need to. All right?"
"All right, Jack," the Doctor agreed. "We can do that. We're finishing trying to fix your mind, first, though, okay?"
"Yeah."
Number Three Squadron's first battle honours were earned at Mons, 23 August 1914, the first confrontation of the war between British and German forces.
And as those forces declare a Christmas truce, Jack wonders how his women are coping without him.
Note - The poem referenced above is The Charge Of The Light Brigade by Alfred, Lord Tennyson. It's about the Battle of Balaclava, during the Crimean War.
Cast list:
Amy - Jewel Staite
Joan - Jessica Hynes (née Stevenson)
Penny - Gillian Anderson
Eleanor - Nigella Lawson
Jennifer - Allison Mack
Continue to final version of Part 10