Belonging: Chapter Five
Thank you everybody, for all your lovely comments, I'm amazed how popular this fic has been so far, and I hope you are continuing to enjoy it.
This chapter is a little lighter in tone, so put away your tear-stained hankies (for now).
Title: Belonging - Chapter Five
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Characters Jack, Ten (with a nuance of sexual tension) / references to Jack/Ianto
Rating: This Chapter - PG-13 (for mild swearing and mentions of adult themes) (will be NC-17 overall)
Spoilers: TW: Exit Wounds, Dead Man Walking / DW: Parting of the Ways, Last of the Time Lords, The Stolen Earth, Journey's End
Disclaimer: The BBC own it all, the little tinkers
Warnings: angst | hurt/comfort
Description:
This is set immediately after the events of The Stolen Earth/Journey's End.
The Torchwood team members are struggling to get back to normal after recent shattering events, when the Doctor turns up in the Torchwood Hub in the middle of the night; alone, heartbroken, guilt-ridden, and needing somewhere to belong.
"So... apart from the English-speaking Weevil, me not bringing you any milk, and the TARDIS having a crush on me, how are you?"
Chapter Five
The shimmering text in the air faded away as I looked up at the snarling creature pressed up against the clear perspex of the holding cell.
Free.
"What?" I said, my brow furrowing. I was too busy trying to process the bizarre message I'd just received to have to cope with this, too.
Free. Me be free.
I stared at the Weevil. It was staring back at me, a strand of drool hanging off one of its incisors.
"Did you just...?" Its mouth hadn't moved, and I realised that the gruff, feral-sounding voice had been in my head. It was speaking to me using some kind of low-level telepathy. But why now?
You. Make me free.
"I can't," I said to the Weevil. "You'll kill somebody."
Yes. Kill! Eat. Need eat!
I frowned. "You can't just go round killing people. If you need to eat, you eat the food we give you."
The Weevil hissed at me; but not in a threatening manner. It just sounded vaguely pissed off. It could obviously understand my speech. And I was speaking English. Which meant...
Oh, hell.
"How long have you been able to understand what I'm saying?" I said slowly.
It looked confused. Maybe that was a little too complicated for it to process. It pressed its hands against the perspex.
Where King.
"King?"
King of our kind. No more in here.
It pointed to its head. And then to its chest.
Owen. It meant Owen. I scratched my head awkwardly. Hell, I couldn't deal with this right now.
"Okay, Millie. You just... relax, okay? I have to... uh..."
Oh my God, I was making my excuses to a Weevil. I flapped a hand at it impatiently, and hurried towards the exit.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the Weevil watch me leave, staring at me mournfully.
***
I pulled my coat closer around me for warmth as I descended the final few steps into storage area 5B. The TARDIS stood in a pool of its own internal light which bled out through the little windows of the Police Box, lighting up the dark stone walls around me eerily.
I fumbled for my keys and found the right one. It shone a little brighter than the rest, even in the dim light, as it was made of metal that wasn't native to Earth. There was still a little piece of circuitry welded to it, useless now, of course. I stared at it for a moment, remembering.
Pushing away disturbing memories, I inserted the key into the lock, but then found that the door pushed open without me having to turn it.
"You should probably lock the door, Doc. Just in case..." I said, as I entered the console room.
The Doctor was lying on his stomach on the floor, writing in a tatty-looking leather bound journal with a huge, ostentatious quill pen.
"Oh, hello! It was locked." The Doctor sounded distracted.
"No... I put my key in but when I pushed on the door, it just opened."
"Really?" The Doctor paused for a moment, sucking on the end of the quill feather. "Hmm."
He leapt to his feet, pushed the journal cover closed with his big toe (for some unexplained reason, he was barefoot) and dropped the quill onto it. Then he stood and looked at me, flexing his naked toes against the metal grille of the flooring. "Have you got it?" he asked.
"Got what?" My brain was beginning to ache.
"My milk. I sent you a... thingy. Like a text. On your vortex manipulator. Like you said to. Didn't you get it?" He looked like a disappointed child.
I stared at him. "Doctor, you send me some incomprehensible message about dairy products, and then a Weevil starts talking to me. Excuse me if I'm a little confused."
The Doctor pursed his lips. "The message I sent wasn't incomprehensible, Jack. It said that I've run out of milk. So... well, it was pretty obvious that I wanted you to bring me some more. Well, I say I've run out of milk. But I haven't. Well... I have got some, but the expiry date is in 2011. But I'm not sure how long I've had it, so the expiry date doesn't really count. But it smells a bit iffy, and you know how I like my tea nice and milky."
He smiled expectantly, as though he thought I was joking with him, and had a pint of semi-skimmed concealed in my coat pocket.
"No," I said slowly. "I haven't got any milk. Sorry."
"Oh."
We stood and stared at each other.
"What's a Weevil?" The Doctor's forehead was wrinkled with bemusement.
"An... alien being. We don't know where they're from or what they're really called, but we call them Weevils. They come through the Rift. They live in the sewers, in packs, feeding off... well, what's in the sewers. Usually we just leave them alone, as long as they keep themselves to themselves. But now and then we get a rogue one coming up to the surface and..."
I was about to say 'killing people' but I thought it best not to open up that particular can of worms.
"...well, we don't want the good people of Cardiff being frightened, do we?"
"So what do you do with the rogue ones?"
"We bring them back here. Keep them... well, we just keep them here. Out of harm's way."
"Like... prisoners," said the Doctor quietly.
"They're well taken care of," I said hastily. "We even give them names. We had to catch one earlier tonight, we intercepted a police report about some guy in a Halloween costume trying to attack a woman near the Bay." I smiled knowingly. "So... we knew. We've called it Mildred. Millie, for short..." I trailed off.
The Doctor was eyeing me disapprovingly.
Suddenly, I felt a stab of annoyance. "Yeah," I said, a little harshly. "We keep them here, like prisoners. Because they're not safe to let loose on Earth, in case they hurt someone."
The Doctor's face twisted into something like pain for a second, and I instantly felt ashamed of myself.
The Doctor let it pass. "So... you say that this Weevil talked to you?"
"Well, not talked, as such. Communicated via telepathy. It's... primitive. But it could understand me when I spoke English."
"And the door was unlocked."
"Yeah."
The Doctor nodded. "Thought so. It's the TARDIS."
I raised an eyebrow, waiting for further explanation.
"She likes you."
"The TARDIS likes me."
"Obviously. Yes."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
The Doctor trailed round the console, running a finger over parts of it like somebody stroking a beloved pet.
"She must have reached out telepathically. Found you, recognised you as... a friend. Thought she'd be helpful and do a bit of translation for you. Then, when you turned up, she automatically let you in."
"Ah." I found that strangely flattering.
Then I had a worrying thought. "She's not gonna start translating alien speech for everybody here, is she? 'Cos... otherwise, people are going to put two and two together, like Martha. Or Mickey."
"Well.... Martha, maybe."
"Don't underestimate Mickey Smith, Doctor. He's sharper than you give him credit for."
"Yeah. Anyway," he said, scratching his ear. "I should imagine the perception filter is blocking any telepathic influence the TARDIS might have on anybody else here. And she doesn't know Ianto so... it's just you. Isn't that nice?"
I shrugged. "I guess so."
The Doctor smiled strangely to himself. "She knows."
"Knows what?"
The Doctor didn't reply.
It all went very quiet. I suddenly felt uncomfortable, like when you visit somebody in hospital, and you desperately want to fill up the silence with inane small talk, so that you don't have to talk about their illness.
But there was nothing else for it, I supposed.
"So... apart from the English-speaking Weevil, me not bringing you any milk, and the TARDIS having a crush on me, how are you?"
"Thirsty," was the response.
"What?"
"Well, I can't make tea if I don't have any milk, can I?" he said irritably. The Doctor had gone back to looking sulky as he sat down heavily on the tatty seating by the console.
I sighed and rubbed at my eyes wearily. Sometimes I didn't know whether I wanted to hug the Doctor, or slap him across the back of the head.
I joined him on the seat. "I mean, how are you feeling?"
He sniffed. "You left me here on my own. For days and days."
"I thought that's what you wanted."
The Doctor put his feet up on the console and stared at them. He wriggled his toes distractedly.
"You don't really need milk, do you?" I said in a slightly amused tone.
"Yes, I do. Well... no. But you could have brought me some anyway." There was a note of hurt in his voice.
I sighed and put my arm around him. To my surprise, he leaned his head towards me and rested it lightly on my shoulder. I bent my elbow so I could bring my arm round to stroke his hair. He wasn't usually this willing to show affection towards me, but I suppose his fragile emotional state was making him feel a bit... needy.
"I'm sorry," I said, feeling guilty. "It's just that... things got busy. And I thought the whole point of this was that you'd... I dunno. Gone into hiding, or something. I thought you wanted to be left alone."
"I'm like one of your Weevils," he said flatly.
"Nah, you don't smell as bad."
I heard him give a tiny snort. "No, I mean... locking myself in, down here in the dark. I've made myself a prisoner."
I stared at the top of his head. I'd never felt so worried about him.
Battling with a horde of Daleks? Easy. Facing an insane megalomaniac? Piece of cake.
The Doctor... emotionally broken and scared of leaving the TARDIS. Now that was something that was keeping me awake at night. Even more than usual.
"So... set yourself free. Hell, take the TARDIS for a spin down to the local Tesco's and get your own milk. One step at a time, right?"
He shook his head. I let my hand wander down to his upper arm, stroking gently. He felt bonier than ever.
"Have you been eating?" I asked, concerned. I didn't want him making himself physically ill, to add to his problems.
"When I remember to."
Right, that was it.
I nudged sideways with my shoulder so that the Doctor didn't fall over when I stood up. "Come on. Get up. We're going upstairs and I'm buying you a pizza."
His eyes were wide.
"There's nobody in," I said soothingly. "Just you and me. Promise."
"Isn't Ianto here?"
My forehead creased. "No. He went home. He doesn't... he just stops over now and then."
"Ah." The Doctor looked deep in thought for a moment. Then he stood up. "Okay."
"Okay?" I smiled.
"Yes." He pulled a face. "But I don't want anchovies on it."
***
"Shame Ianto's not here, actually," I said, carrying over a tray. "He's much better at this than I am."
I'd made us both a cup of tea. It was a bit rough and ready, in old chipped mugs that Ianto probably only kept to store pens in, but it was better than nothing. I placed it down on the little table in front of the scraggy old couch we kept in the main area of the Hub.
"You should try his coffee. Best in the world."
"I don't like coffee much." The Doctor sat on the couch stiffly like he was visiting an elderly aunt, and began to sip his tea in silence.
I'd already ordered the pizza from our regular guys and they knew to make it snappy, so it didn't seem long before I heard somebody pressing the buzzer, upstairs in the faux Tourist Information Centre shop front.
I nipped upstairs to accept it and pay the bill (the cute delivery guy definitely gave me the eye, but I didn't pursue it), and I got back to find the Doctor walking around, gazing interestedly at the monitoring equipment and computer screens.
"You seem quite organised, in a haphazard sort of way. Bit different to Torchwood One, but then that can only be a good thing," he said. He'd put his glasses on.
He'd always looked cute in glasses. I cleared my throat, made myself jettison any impure thoughts.
"Maybe you could fine-tune it for us," I said with a grin. The Doctor gave me an 'I don't think so' look, in response.
I continued. "Toshiko Sato. She was in charge of all this, before. She was a genius. Mickey's doing his best, but there are some of her own written applications that we haven't a clue how to use properly. She was full of ideas about how to improve the systems, but some of her projects ended up being only half-finished."
The Doctor looked up at me.
"We lost her," I said quietly. "In the line of duty. Not so long ago."
The Doctor peered more closely at a small photo of her that we kept stuck to one of the monitors. "Sato, you say. I think I met her, once."
"Really?"
The Doctor nodded. "Thought she was a medical doctor, though. Might be getting her mixed up with somebody else."
There was a pause.
He peered at the monitors showing real-time CCTV screens of key areas in Cardiff and of the view outside the Hub. "No emergencies tonight, then."
I shook my head. "If anything comes in, alerts, reports, breaches of security, whatever, the system is set up to make an unholy racket, and the team get automatic messages sent to their mobiles. And... then they contact me. It's all under control."
Another pause.
"Pizza's here," I said, unnecessarily.
The Doctor took off his glasses and shoved them back into his inside pocket, and then joined me on the couch. We ate the pizza. Meat feast. The best in town.
The Doctor seemed to rediscover his appetite, and in the end he ate six pieces, compared to my two.
The pizza seemed to put him in a better mood too, and we soon engaged in an easy conversation. We talked about old times, about some of our less fraught adventures. Then the Doctor told me about some of the places he'd taken Rose after... well, after he'd abandoned me on the Gamestation, and stories about Martha and Donna, some of the things they'd done. He seemed sad at times, but there were also occasions when he laughed properly, for the first time since I could remember.
In return, I told him about some of the things I'd got up to while I'd been living in Cardiff this past century. I kept it light and amusing, no dark tales.
The subject of how Ianto and I met came up. The Doctor was enthralled to learn about our resident pet pterodactyl, and I promised to introduce him to Myfanwy one day.
Then, after a pause, the Doctor wrinkled his nose. "What do you and Ianto do... to... y'know. Socialise. With each other, I mean."
We have sex.
"Uh... we just... talk... and stuff."
"Right... and what else?"
"Oh... we... go to the movies."
We'd gone to the cinema once. I'd made sure that we sat on the back row so that we could make out when I got bored. Which I had, ten minutes into the film.
"And... we eat out. Sometimes."
We'd gone out for pizza. Twice. And then we'd come back to the Hub and had sex. On my desk. Both times.
"Mostly we just... y'know. Hang out."
I folded my arms like an embarrassed teenager. Then I unfolded them and picked up my mug of cold tea instead, and began to drink from it self-consciously.
Truth is... Ianto and I were usually too busy working to do much dating. We just... more or less... well. We had sex. A lot. Nothing wrong with that, is there?
"Me and you should do more of that," said the Doctor.
I almost choked on my tea.
"Hang out," he continued, "like we've been doing tonight. Hanging out." He said the phrase almost proudly. "Like proper humans!"
"I am human," I said, laughing.
The Doctor smiled. "Yeah, but you're different." He looked at me from under his long eyelashes, blinking slowly.
I thought I should tell Ianto to check the heating system, I seemed to be feeling rather too warm all of a sudden.
I cleared my throat. "So... what have you been up to while I left you all alone in the TARDIS to run out of milk?" I started clearing up the pizza crumbs so that I had something to do with my hands.
"I've been relaxing." He stuck out his bare feet, as though not wearing shoes had been the obvious pointer. "Like you said to."
I nodded. "That's good."
"I slept a bit. For two days, in fact. Must have needed a decent recharge. Still, being half-exterminated does take it out of you a bit, induced regenerative energy-aided healing or no induced regenerative energy-aided healing."
I remembered how he'd looked; lying on the ground in agony, while Rose cried bitter tears over him. I reached out and took his hand. Just because.
"Did a bit of reading. Lots of reading. Oh, and then I started writing in my journal. Haven't done that for years."
I smiled. "You don't strike me as a blogger."
"Oh, I used to write in it all the time, in one of my earlier lives. Had a 500 year diary, and everything." He looked a bit wistful. "Things seemed a lot simpler, back then."
I smiled encouragingly. "Good that you've kept busy, though."
He nodded. "I'm thinking of writing a symphony, next." He smiled. It was one of his fake smiles. I could tell by now.
I looked at his pale hand held in mine and squeezed it. "I'm still worried about you, y'know."
The smile faded, and the Doctor looked lost again. Almost as lost as he had one night a week ago, when he came to me, needing me.
"Have you... ever been like this before?" I wasn't sure how else to phrase the question.
The Doctor blinked. "After the Time War. Yeah... I was in a bit of a state." He gave a little humourless laugh. "It took me a while to come to terms with..." he waved his free hand in the air a couple of times.
I nodded, so that he didn't have to finish the sentence. "And how long did it take for you to... y'know. Start feeling better? To get to... how you usually are. The Doctor I know."
and love
He shrugged. "Couple of decades, I suppose."
Jesus.
"Still, I was all alone, back then. And this isn't... well, at least I have you."
I bit my lip. "Yeah. You do. Always." I shifted a couple of inches closer to the Doctor, on the couch. Our thighs were touching.
And then, wouldn't you know it, an alarm went off. I leapt up and dashed over to Mickey's workstation.
"Shit! Rift breach. Probably more friggin' Weevils."
I looked up apologetically. But the Doctor was already on his feet. "Captain Jack Harkness, defender of the Earth," he said in a slightly amused tone. But there was a hint of pride in his voice, too.
I grinned. "Nothing we can't handle."
"I'll just..." the Doctor hooked a thumb behind him.
"Yeah..."
This felt strange. Like the end of an awkward first date.
I walked over to him. Not knowing what else would be appropriate, I kissed him on the forehead.
"I had a nice time," the Doctor said, smiling, like a polite child being collected by his parents at the end of a birthday party. And then he turned around and left.
I leaned against the back of Mickey's desk, ignoring the bleeping sounds behind me, the flashing lights and the mobile phone buzzing urgently in my breast pocket.
I wasn't that concerned about the alarm. Any alien encounters or supernatural phenomena that might occur tonight couldn't possibly make my evening any weirder.
To be continued
<< Chapter One
<< Chapter Two
<< Chapter Three
<< Chapter Four
>> Chapter Six
>> Chapter Seven
>> Chapter Eight
>> Chapter Nine
>> Chapter Ten
>> Chapter Eleven
>> Chapter Twelve
>> Chapter Thirteen
>> Chapter Fourteen
>> Chapter Fifteen
>> Chapter Sixteen
>> Chapter Seventeen
>> Chapter Eighteen
>> Chapter Nineteen
>> Chapter Twenty
>> Chapter Twenty One
>> Chapter Twenty Two
>> Chapter Twenty Three
>> Chapter Twenty Four
>> Chapter Twenty Five
>> Chapter Twenty Six
>> Chapter Twenty Seven
>> Chapter Twenty Eight
This chapter is a little lighter in tone, so put away your tear-stained hankies (for now).
Title: Belonging - Chapter Five
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Characters Jack, Ten (with a nuance of sexual tension) / references to Jack/Ianto
Rating: This Chapter - PG-13 (for mild swearing and mentions of adult themes) (will be NC-17 overall)
Spoilers: TW: Exit Wounds, Dead Man Walking / DW: Parting of the Ways, Last of the Time Lords, The Stolen Earth, Journey's End
Disclaimer: The BBC own it all, the little tinkers
Warnings: angst | hurt/comfort
Description:
This is set immediately after the events of The Stolen Earth/Journey's End.
The Torchwood team members are struggling to get back to normal after recent shattering events, when the Doctor turns up in the Torchwood Hub in the middle of the night; alone, heartbroken, guilt-ridden, and needing somewhere to belong.
"So... apart from the English-speaking Weevil, me not bringing you any milk, and the TARDIS having a crush on me, how are you?"
Chapter Five
The shimmering text in the air faded away as I looked up at the snarling creature pressed up against the clear perspex of the holding cell.
Free.
"What?" I said, my brow furrowing. I was too busy trying to process the bizarre message I'd just received to have to cope with this, too.
Free. Me be free.
I stared at the Weevil. It was staring back at me, a strand of drool hanging off one of its incisors.
"Did you just...?" Its mouth hadn't moved, and I realised that the gruff, feral-sounding voice had been in my head. It was speaking to me using some kind of low-level telepathy. But why now?
You. Make me free.
"I can't," I said to the Weevil. "You'll kill somebody."
Yes. Kill! Eat. Need eat!
I frowned. "You can't just go round killing people. If you need to eat, you eat the food we give you."
The Weevil hissed at me; but not in a threatening manner. It just sounded vaguely pissed off. It could obviously understand my speech. And I was speaking English. Which meant...
Oh, hell.
"How long have you been able to understand what I'm saying?" I said slowly.
It looked confused. Maybe that was a little too complicated for it to process. It pressed its hands against the perspex.
Where King.
"King?"
King of our kind. No more in here.
It pointed to its head. And then to its chest.
Owen. It meant Owen. I scratched my head awkwardly. Hell, I couldn't deal with this right now.
"Okay, Millie. You just... relax, okay? I have to... uh..."
Oh my God, I was making my excuses to a Weevil. I flapped a hand at it impatiently, and hurried towards the exit.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the Weevil watch me leave, staring at me mournfully.
***
I pulled my coat closer around me for warmth as I descended the final few steps into storage area 5B. The TARDIS stood in a pool of its own internal light which bled out through the little windows of the Police Box, lighting up the dark stone walls around me eerily.
I fumbled for my keys and found the right one. It shone a little brighter than the rest, even in the dim light, as it was made of metal that wasn't native to Earth. There was still a little piece of circuitry welded to it, useless now, of course. I stared at it for a moment, remembering.
Pushing away disturbing memories, I inserted the key into the lock, but then found that the door pushed open without me having to turn it.
"You should probably lock the door, Doc. Just in case..." I said, as I entered the console room.
The Doctor was lying on his stomach on the floor, writing in a tatty-looking leather bound journal with a huge, ostentatious quill pen.
"Oh, hello! It was locked." The Doctor sounded distracted.
"No... I put my key in but when I pushed on the door, it just opened."
"Really?" The Doctor paused for a moment, sucking on the end of the quill feather. "Hmm."
He leapt to his feet, pushed the journal cover closed with his big toe (for some unexplained reason, he was barefoot) and dropped the quill onto it. Then he stood and looked at me, flexing his naked toes against the metal grille of the flooring. "Have you got it?" he asked.
"Got what?" My brain was beginning to ache.
"My milk. I sent you a... thingy. Like a text. On your vortex manipulator. Like you said to. Didn't you get it?" He looked like a disappointed child.
I stared at him. "Doctor, you send me some incomprehensible message about dairy products, and then a Weevil starts talking to me. Excuse me if I'm a little confused."
The Doctor pursed his lips. "The message I sent wasn't incomprehensible, Jack. It said that I've run out of milk. So... well, it was pretty obvious that I wanted you to bring me some more. Well, I say I've run out of milk. But I haven't. Well... I have got some, but the expiry date is in 2011. But I'm not sure how long I've had it, so the expiry date doesn't really count. But it smells a bit iffy, and you know how I like my tea nice and milky."
He smiled expectantly, as though he thought I was joking with him, and had a pint of semi-skimmed concealed in my coat pocket.
"No," I said slowly. "I haven't got any milk. Sorry."
"Oh."
We stood and stared at each other.
"What's a Weevil?" The Doctor's forehead was wrinkled with bemusement.
"An... alien being. We don't know where they're from or what they're really called, but we call them Weevils. They come through the Rift. They live in the sewers, in packs, feeding off... well, what's in the sewers. Usually we just leave them alone, as long as they keep themselves to themselves. But now and then we get a rogue one coming up to the surface and..."
I was about to say 'killing people' but I thought it best not to open up that particular can of worms.
"...well, we don't want the good people of Cardiff being frightened, do we?"
"So what do you do with the rogue ones?"
"We bring them back here. Keep them... well, we just keep them here. Out of harm's way."
"Like... prisoners," said the Doctor quietly.
"They're well taken care of," I said hastily. "We even give them names. We had to catch one earlier tonight, we intercepted a police report about some guy in a Halloween costume trying to attack a woman near the Bay." I smiled knowingly. "So... we knew. We've called it Mildred. Millie, for short..." I trailed off.
The Doctor was eyeing me disapprovingly.
Suddenly, I felt a stab of annoyance. "Yeah," I said, a little harshly. "We keep them here, like prisoners. Because they're not safe to let loose on Earth, in case they hurt someone."
The Doctor's face twisted into something like pain for a second, and I instantly felt ashamed of myself.
The Doctor let it pass. "So... you say that this Weevil talked to you?"
"Well, not talked, as such. Communicated via telepathy. It's... primitive. But it could understand me when I spoke English."
"And the door was unlocked."
"Yeah."
The Doctor nodded. "Thought so. It's the TARDIS."
I raised an eyebrow, waiting for further explanation.
"She likes you."
"The TARDIS likes me."
"Obviously. Yes."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
The Doctor trailed round the console, running a finger over parts of it like somebody stroking a beloved pet.
"She must have reached out telepathically. Found you, recognised you as... a friend. Thought she'd be helpful and do a bit of translation for you. Then, when you turned up, she automatically let you in."
"Ah." I found that strangely flattering.
Then I had a worrying thought. "She's not gonna start translating alien speech for everybody here, is she? 'Cos... otherwise, people are going to put two and two together, like Martha. Or Mickey."
"Well.... Martha, maybe."
"Don't underestimate Mickey Smith, Doctor. He's sharper than you give him credit for."
"Yeah. Anyway," he said, scratching his ear. "I should imagine the perception filter is blocking any telepathic influence the TARDIS might have on anybody else here. And she doesn't know Ianto so... it's just you. Isn't that nice?"
I shrugged. "I guess so."
The Doctor smiled strangely to himself. "She knows."
"Knows what?"
The Doctor didn't reply.
It all went very quiet. I suddenly felt uncomfortable, like when you visit somebody in hospital, and you desperately want to fill up the silence with inane small talk, so that you don't have to talk about their illness.
But there was nothing else for it, I supposed.
"So... apart from the English-speaking Weevil, me not bringing you any milk, and the TARDIS having a crush on me, how are you?"
"Thirsty," was the response.
"What?"
"Well, I can't make tea if I don't have any milk, can I?" he said irritably. The Doctor had gone back to looking sulky as he sat down heavily on the tatty seating by the console.
I sighed and rubbed at my eyes wearily. Sometimes I didn't know whether I wanted to hug the Doctor, or slap him across the back of the head.
I joined him on the seat. "I mean, how are you feeling?"
He sniffed. "You left me here on my own. For days and days."
"I thought that's what you wanted."
The Doctor put his feet up on the console and stared at them. He wriggled his toes distractedly.
"You don't really need milk, do you?" I said in a slightly amused tone.
"Yes, I do. Well... no. But you could have brought me some anyway." There was a note of hurt in his voice.
I sighed and put my arm around him. To my surprise, he leaned his head towards me and rested it lightly on my shoulder. I bent my elbow so I could bring my arm round to stroke his hair. He wasn't usually this willing to show affection towards me, but I suppose his fragile emotional state was making him feel a bit... needy.
"I'm sorry," I said, feeling guilty. "It's just that... things got busy. And I thought the whole point of this was that you'd... I dunno. Gone into hiding, or something. I thought you wanted to be left alone."
"I'm like one of your Weevils," he said flatly.
"Nah, you don't smell as bad."
I heard him give a tiny snort. "No, I mean... locking myself in, down here in the dark. I've made myself a prisoner."
I stared at the top of his head. I'd never felt so worried about him.
Battling with a horde of Daleks? Easy. Facing an insane megalomaniac? Piece of cake.
The Doctor... emotionally broken and scared of leaving the TARDIS. Now that was something that was keeping me awake at night. Even more than usual.
"So... set yourself free. Hell, take the TARDIS for a spin down to the local Tesco's and get your own milk. One step at a time, right?"
He shook his head. I let my hand wander down to his upper arm, stroking gently. He felt bonier than ever.
"Have you been eating?" I asked, concerned. I didn't want him making himself physically ill, to add to his problems.
"When I remember to."
Right, that was it.
I nudged sideways with my shoulder so that the Doctor didn't fall over when I stood up. "Come on. Get up. We're going upstairs and I'm buying you a pizza."
His eyes were wide.
"There's nobody in," I said soothingly. "Just you and me. Promise."
"Isn't Ianto here?"
My forehead creased. "No. He went home. He doesn't... he just stops over now and then."
"Ah." The Doctor looked deep in thought for a moment. Then he stood up. "Okay."
"Okay?" I smiled.
"Yes." He pulled a face. "But I don't want anchovies on it."
***
"Shame Ianto's not here, actually," I said, carrying over a tray. "He's much better at this than I am."
I'd made us both a cup of tea. It was a bit rough and ready, in old chipped mugs that Ianto probably only kept to store pens in, but it was better than nothing. I placed it down on the little table in front of the scraggy old couch we kept in the main area of the Hub.
"You should try his coffee. Best in the world."
"I don't like coffee much." The Doctor sat on the couch stiffly like he was visiting an elderly aunt, and began to sip his tea in silence.
I'd already ordered the pizza from our regular guys and they knew to make it snappy, so it didn't seem long before I heard somebody pressing the buzzer, upstairs in the faux Tourist Information Centre shop front.
I nipped upstairs to accept it and pay the bill (the cute delivery guy definitely gave me the eye, but I didn't pursue it), and I got back to find the Doctor walking around, gazing interestedly at the monitoring equipment and computer screens.
"You seem quite organised, in a haphazard sort of way. Bit different to Torchwood One, but then that can only be a good thing," he said. He'd put his glasses on.
He'd always looked cute in glasses. I cleared my throat, made myself jettison any impure thoughts.
"Maybe you could fine-tune it for us," I said with a grin. The Doctor gave me an 'I don't think so' look, in response.
I continued. "Toshiko Sato. She was in charge of all this, before. She was a genius. Mickey's doing his best, but there are some of her own written applications that we haven't a clue how to use properly. She was full of ideas about how to improve the systems, but some of her projects ended up being only half-finished."
The Doctor looked up at me.
"We lost her," I said quietly. "In the line of duty. Not so long ago."
The Doctor peered more closely at a small photo of her that we kept stuck to one of the monitors. "Sato, you say. I think I met her, once."
"Really?"
The Doctor nodded. "Thought she was a medical doctor, though. Might be getting her mixed up with somebody else."
There was a pause.
He peered at the monitors showing real-time CCTV screens of key areas in Cardiff and of the view outside the Hub. "No emergencies tonight, then."
I shook my head. "If anything comes in, alerts, reports, breaches of security, whatever, the system is set up to make an unholy racket, and the team get automatic messages sent to their mobiles. And... then they contact me. It's all under control."
Another pause.
"Pizza's here," I said, unnecessarily.
The Doctor took off his glasses and shoved them back into his inside pocket, and then joined me on the couch. We ate the pizza. Meat feast. The best in town.
The Doctor seemed to rediscover his appetite, and in the end he ate six pieces, compared to my two.
The pizza seemed to put him in a better mood too, and we soon engaged in an easy conversation. We talked about old times, about some of our less fraught adventures. Then the Doctor told me about some of the places he'd taken Rose after... well, after he'd abandoned me on the Gamestation, and stories about Martha and Donna, some of the things they'd done. He seemed sad at times, but there were also occasions when he laughed properly, for the first time since I could remember.
In return, I told him about some of the things I'd got up to while I'd been living in Cardiff this past century. I kept it light and amusing, no dark tales.
The subject of how Ianto and I met came up. The Doctor was enthralled to learn about our resident pet pterodactyl, and I promised to introduce him to Myfanwy one day.
Then, after a pause, the Doctor wrinkled his nose. "What do you and Ianto do... to... y'know. Socialise. With each other, I mean."
We have sex.
"Uh... we just... talk... and stuff."
"Right... and what else?"
"Oh... we... go to the movies."
We'd gone to the cinema once. I'd made sure that we sat on the back row so that we could make out when I got bored. Which I had, ten minutes into the film.
"And... we eat out. Sometimes."
We'd gone out for pizza. Twice. And then we'd come back to the Hub and had sex. On my desk. Both times.
"Mostly we just... y'know. Hang out."
I folded my arms like an embarrassed teenager. Then I unfolded them and picked up my mug of cold tea instead, and began to drink from it self-consciously.
Truth is... Ianto and I were usually too busy working to do much dating. We just... more or less... well. We had sex. A lot. Nothing wrong with that, is there?
"Me and you should do more of that," said the Doctor.
I almost choked on my tea.
"Hang out," he continued, "like we've been doing tonight. Hanging out." He said the phrase almost proudly. "Like proper humans!"
"I am human," I said, laughing.
The Doctor smiled. "Yeah, but you're different." He looked at me from under his long eyelashes, blinking slowly.
I thought I should tell Ianto to check the heating system, I seemed to be feeling rather too warm all of a sudden.
I cleared my throat. "So... what have you been up to while I left you all alone in the TARDIS to run out of milk?" I started clearing up the pizza crumbs so that I had something to do with my hands.
"I've been relaxing." He stuck out his bare feet, as though not wearing shoes had been the obvious pointer. "Like you said to."
I nodded. "That's good."
"I slept a bit. For two days, in fact. Must have needed a decent recharge. Still, being half-exterminated does take it out of you a bit, induced regenerative energy-aided healing or no induced regenerative energy-aided healing."
I remembered how he'd looked; lying on the ground in agony, while Rose cried bitter tears over him. I reached out and took his hand. Just because.
"Did a bit of reading. Lots of reading. Oh, and then I started writing in my journal. Haven't done that for years."
I smiled. "You don't strike me as a blogger."
"Oh, I used to write in it all the time, in one of my earlier lives. Had a 500 year diary, and everything." He looked a bit wistful. "Things seemed a lot simpler, back then."
I smiled encouragingly. "Good that you've kept busy, though."
He nodded. "I'm thinking of writing a symphony, next." He smiled. It was one of his fake smiles. I could tell by now.
I looked at his pale hand held in mine and squeezed it. "I'm still worried about you, y'know."
The smile faded, and the Doctor looked lost again. Almost as lost as he had one night a week ago, when he came to me, needing me.
"Have you... ever been like this before?" I wasn't sure how else to phrase the question.
The Doctor blinked. "After the Time War. Yeah... I was in a bit of a state." He gave a little humourless laugh. "It took me a while to come to terms with..." he waved his free hand in the air a couple of times.
I nodded, so that he didn't have to finish the sentence. "And how long did it take for you to... y'know. Start feeling better? To get to... how you usually are. The Doctor I know."
and love
He shrugged. "Couple of decades, I suppose."
Jesus.
"Still, I was all alone, back then. And this isn't... well, at least I have you."
I bit my lip. "Yeah. You do. Always." I shifted a couple of inches closer to the Doctor, on the couch. Our thighs were touching.
And then, wouldn't you know it, an alarm went off. I leapt up and dashed over to Mickey's workstation.
"Shit! Rift breach. Probably more friggin' Weevils."
I looked up apologetically. But the Doctor was already on his feet. "Captain Jack Harkness, defender of the Earth," he said in a slightly amused tone. But there was a hint of pride in his voice, too.
I grinned. "Nothing we can't handle."
"I'll just..." the Doctor hooked a thumb behind him.
"Yeah..."
This felt strange. Like the end of an awkward first date.
I walked over to him. Not knowing what else would be appropriate, I kissed him on the forehead.
"I had a nice time," the Doctor said, smiling, like a polite child being collected by his parents at the end of a birthday party. And then he turned around and left.
I leaned against the back of Mickey's desk, ignoring the bleeping sounds behind me, the flashing lights and the mobile phone buzzing urgently in my breast pocket.
I wasn't that concerned about the alarm. Any alien encounters or supernatural phenomena that might occur tonight couldn't possibly make my evening any weirder.
To be continued
<< Chapter One
<< Chapter Two
<< Chapter Three
<< Chapter Four
>> Chapter Six
>> Chapter Seven
>> Chapter Eight
>> Chapter Nine
>> Chapter Ten
>> Chapter Eleven
>> Chapter Twelve
>> Chapter Thirteen
>> Chapter Fourteen
>> Chapter Fifteen
>> Chapter Sixteen
>> Chapter Seventeen
>> Chapter Eighteen
>> Chapter Nineteen
>> Chapter Twenty
>> Chapter Twenty One
>> Chapter Twenty Two
>> Chapter Twenty Three
>> Chapter Twenty Four
>> Chapter Twenty Five
>> Chapter Twenty Six
>> Chapter Twenty Seven
>> Chapter Twenty Eight