Doctor Who/Torchwood - fic - And Now These Three Remain, Jack/Martha, Ten, PG
Title - And Now These Three Remain
Author - laurab1
Characters/pairing - Jack/Martha, Ten
Rating - PG
Length - 506 words
Spoilers - DW: to 3.12 TSOD, TW: 2.9 Something Borrowed, 2.12 Fragments
Summary - originally written for bringthehappy’s Happyfest II, with the prompt of “hope”; that version is here
Disclaimer - alas, none of these people are mine
Feedback is loved and appreciated :) Enjoy!
And Now These Three Remain
by Laura
“I had to practically bully it out of him, last time, too,” Martha said, as she and Jack watched the Doctor do…something with bits of her laptop, and their TARDIS keys.
Unsurprisingly, it all looked terribly complicated, and she only hoped her data was safe. Her worry, over that, and running for their lives must have shown on her face, because Jack then wrapped an arm around Martha’s shoulders, and pulled her close to him. The warmth of his body, quite clearly far, far more than the 36 degrees Celsius it should be, was comforting.
“Gallifrey?” he asked.
“Yes. New, New - oh, I don’t know how many - York, on New Earth.” She paused, remembering something happier from that time. “All these people, in this huge traffic jam. The Face of Boe saved them, eventually, with our help. But even before that, they were still singing. Still thought they’d get to the end. Still had faith, still hoped.”
“You did better than me, then, sweetheart,” Jack replied, chuckling a little. “Rose and I got Gallifrey out of him, just as a name, his being being the last of the Time Lords, and the Time War, but not much else. And, well, I already knew about the Time War.”
He was silent for a while, and Martha recalled the lie the Doctor had confessed to telling her; not just a Time Lord, the last of the Time Lords.
“There’s a hell of a lot to be said for hope, Martha Jones.” Jack then looked down at her, and asked, “What were they singing?”
“The Old Rugged Cross,” she told him. “And Abide With Me.”
“Hymns, even then. Yeah.” There was a hint of a smile on his lips.
“What do you know about church, Captain?” Martha asked. She tried to keep the grin off her own face.
Jack’s smile disappeared, when he replied, “More than you’d think, Martha. I’ve been to an awful lot of funerals since 1899. Said goodbye to far too many friends. No-one survives Torchwood for all that long. Except me, of course.” But it came back again, as he added, “I even had a wedding in church once, y’know.”
She believed that, somehow. “When was that?”
“1903. Marriage lasted until 1919. Came back from France, had another year with Maria, before I lost her.”
1919? Oh. “Spanish Flu?” she whispered.
“Yeah,” Jack said, after a minute. “As if there hadn’t just been enough death.”
Martha simply nodded in reply, trying not to think about the poor boys they’d just left, at Farringham School. She looked over at the Doctor, instead. “I think he’s finished…whatever he’s been making, Jack.”
“Let’s go and see what weird and wonderful thing the Doc’s come up with this time, then, Martha Jones,” Jack said, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
“And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love,” Martha recited. They were getting by on hope and faith, as well.
Just maybe, that would be enough to beat the Master.
-end-
crosspost:
jackmartha
torchwood_fic
Author - laurab1
Characters/pairing - Jack/Martha, Ten
Rating - PG
Length - 506 words
Spoilers - DW: to 3.12 TSOD, TW: 2.9 Something Borrowed, 2.12 Fragments
Summary - originally written for bringthehappy’s Happyfest II, with the prompt of “hope”; that version is here
Disclaimer - alas, none of these people are mine
Feedback is loved and appreciated :) Enjoy!
And Now These Three Remain
by Laura
“I had to practically bully it out of him, last time, too,” Martha said, as she and Jack watched the Doctor do…something with bits of her laptop, and their TARDIS keys.
Unsurprisingly, it all looked terribly complicated, and she only hoped her data was safe. Her worry, over that, and running for their lives must have shown on her face, because Jack then wrapped an arm around Martha’s shoulders, and pulled her close to him. The warmth of his body, quite clearly far, far more than the 36 degrees Celsius it should be, was comforting.
“Gallifrey?” he asked.
“Yes. New, New - oh, I don’t know how many - York, on New Earth.” She paused, remembering something happier from that time. “All these people, in this huge traffic jam. The Face of Boe saved them, eventually, with our help. But even before that, they were still singing. Still thought they’d get to the end. Still had faith, still hoped.”
“You did better than me, then, sweetheart,” Jack replied, chuckling a little. “Rose and I got Gallifrey out of him, just as a name, his being being the last of the Time Lords, and the Time War, but not much else. And, well, I already knew about the Time War.”
He was silent for a while, and Martha recalled the lie the Doctor had confessed to telling her; not just a Time Lord, the last of the Time Lords.
“There’s a hell of a lot to be said for hope, Martha Jones.” Jack then looked down at her, and asked, “What were they singing?”
“The Old Rugged Cross,” she told him. “And Abide With Me.”
“Hymns, even then. Yeah.” There was a hint of a smile on his lips.
“What do you know about church, Captain?” Martha asked. She tried to keep the grin off her own face.
Jack’s smile disappeared, when he replied, “More than you’d think, Martha. I’ve been to an awful lot of funerals since 1899. Said goodbye to far too many friends. No-one survives Torchwood for all that long. Except me, of course.” But it came back again, as he added, “I even had a wedding in church once, y’know.”
She believed that, somehow. “When was that?”
“1903. Marriage lasted until 1919. Came back from France, had another year with Maria, before I lost her.”
1919? Oh. “Spanish Flu?” she whispered.
“Yeah,” Jack said, after a minute. “As if there hadn’t just been enough death.”
Martha simply nodded in reply, trying not to think about the poor boys they’d just left, at Farringham School. She looked over at the Doctor, instead. “I think he’s finished…whatever he’s been making, Jack.”
“Let’s go and see what weird and wonderful thing the Doc’s come up with this time, then, Martha Jones,” Jack said, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
“And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love,” Martha recited. They were getting by on hope and faith, as well.
Just maybe, that would be enough to beat the Master.
-end-
crosspost:
jackmartha
torchwood_fic