Due care and attention [fic]
Title: Due care and attention
Author: shadowbyrd
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Doctor Who (2005)
Character(s): Nine and Jack. Some Nine/Jack.
Word Count: 1531
Summary: In which innuendoes are thrown around, the perils of time travel are discussed and male bonding is had.
A/N: Set between Doctor dances and Boomtown.
The Doctor had been meaning to get some sleep for a few days now - if for no other reason than according to Rose he was stroppier than usual and it was getting a bit more difficult than it should be to juggle all his different trains of thought.
He then had a rather unpleasant realisation that it could just be that he was getting old. Nine of thirteen - and however short some of those lives had been they’d been pretty jam packed. Rassilon (and maybe the TARDIS) only knew what sort of state his hearts were in.
In order to take his varied trains of thought off this particular line, he decided instead to spend the night working on a few kinks in the consoles the TARDIS had kept nagging him about.
He was sitting on the floor beside an open section of the console when Jack wandered in. “Did someone call a plumber?”
The Doctor glanced up from his work, acknowledging Jack’s presence. “Captain.”
“Doctor,” Jack smiled and sauntered up to the console to stand beside him. “always so formal. There anything I can do to get us…better acquainted?”
“Nice pause. Very suggestive,” The Doctor remarked, yanking a knot of cables.
“Oh, c’mon!” Jack leant back against the control panel. “I can’t make small talk if you’re critiquing me while we go. Although -”
“That was the idea,” said the Doctor shortly, rattling a few of the looser engine parts.
Jack looked at him for a moment and huffed a laugh. “Not one for subtlety, are you?”
The Doctor pulled himself to his feet and spun a few of the dials, continuing his pretence of industry. “Subtlety takes time - I don’t usually have any going spare.”
“Ironic for the man in the time machine,” Jack remarked, glancing over his shoulder at the central column, which stuttered. Jack pushed off the console. “Speaking of whish, there is one matter you could clear up for me - get me out of your hair.”
The Doctor jerked one of the levers and folded his arms. “I’m all ears.”
“Yeah, I noticed,” Jack said, tilting his head and smiling appreciatively. Noticing the look the Doctor was giving him, he pulled an innocent face. “What? I like ‘em!”
The Doctor rolled his eyes, trying to keep a straight face. “You were saying?” he said.
Jack made a half-hearted effort to follow suit before clearing his throat. “I took a discrete print of both you and Rose when I first met each of you -”
“I know you did,” said the Doctor, holding up his hands. “And I’m sorry, but there is nothing discrete about a sheet of gattacca film on your palm when shaking hands with someone. If that’s your idea of low profile, I shudder to think what you’d consider “all guns blazing” -”
Jack shrugged. “To each his own. I personally find explosions to be quite picturesque, viewed from a safe distance. But anyway - when I gave the film to my ship for analysis. It told me you weren’t human. As if all the ape talk didn’t write out in neon letters and underline it for me. It also gave me a very interesting reading for “age”.”
The Doctor bit his tongue. Not this again. He crouched down, returning his attention to the wiring. “If you were that interested you could have just asked.”
Jack looked affronted. “That would be rude. And considering I’d just met you, rather forward.”
The Doctor looked at him. “You are rude. And forward.”
Jack smirked, turning his head sideways. “You love it really. No subtlety taking up your time.”
“But plenty of tangents,” the Doctor noted, frowning and doing a double take.
“I thought you were getting out of my hair?” he added, digging the banana out of the engine and tossing it over his shoulder.
Behind him he heard Jack sigh. When he spoke he sounded reluctantly serious. “How old are you?”
The Doctor paused. “Excuse me?”
Jack cleared his throat. “When age came up for you I got two different readings. I asked Rose about it and she said you’re nine hundred.”
“That didn’t answer it for you?” the Doctor asked, trying to prise another panel up.
Jack stooped beside him and heaved. Between them (much to the Doctor’s annoyance) they managed to lift the panel away. “It answered something. But I’m curious - where did the other sixty-seven years go?”
The Doctor let the panel go, feeling a sense of grim satisfaction as Jack staggered under its weight. “What makes you think I lost them?”
Jack propped the panel against the railings, panting. “So, you’re actually nine hundred and sixty-seven? And you told Rose you were nine-hundred because you thought you’d stand a better chance if you were younger?”
“Well, they’re both true, from a certain point of view,” said the Doctor, pulling his jacket off and lying on his front to get closing to the wiring. “But the sixty-seven years don’t really count anymore - not in most of the universe.”
“Why not?”
“I lost them.”
There was a pause, then Jack laughed. “You’ll forgive me for saying so - losing two years is unfortunate, but sixty-seven years look likes carelessness. Or revenge.”
The Doctor bit his lip, no longer seeing the wires. “Do you think it’s such a bad thing that you forgot those two years? Maybe something happened in them that you’re better off not remembering.”
Jack raised his head. “What could possibly be so bad?”
“I did something bad,” said the Doctor quietly. “Something terrible. And no one alive in the universe remembers it but me.”
Jack blinked. “Over sixty-seven years?”
The Doctor shrugged. “It was a long chain of somethings. Which were eventually cordoned off in a time lock.” He looked at Jack and smiled. “Sometimes I count them, sometimes I don’t.”
“But if you’re the only one who remembers - why not just forget about it? Pretend that it never happened?”
“But it did. It is. It’s happening right now, over and over.” The Doctor turned his piercing eyes on Jack. “That was why you told us, wasn’t it? You scanned me and. Thought, here’s someone that’s just like you. Maybe he can explain, maybe he can help you.”
“No. I did think those things but that wasn’t why I spoke up about it. I wanted her to trust me. Do it the right way, let her know all the facts first.”
“The right way, eh?”
“It’s frightening how easy it is to gain people’s trust otherwise. You start to take it for granted.”
“They don’t even realise,” said the Doctor.
“Not until it’s too late,” Jack agreed.
The Doctor sighed. “Be very sure you want to know, Jack. Whoever it was who did it might have been doing you a kindness.”
“I think some mistakes are best remembered,” said Jack standing up. “And if it was big enough for them take two years of memory away from me, I think I should know about it. Don’t you agree?”
“I do. Except, I didn’t make a mistake. I did what I did knowing full well what it would mean.” He looked up at Jack and smiled bitterly. “You’re wondering if you can trust me now, aren’t you?”
Jack watched him through narrowed eyes. “Was there anything else you could have done?”
“I don’t know.”
“Was it the right thing to do?”
“I gave up asking myself that a long time ago.” He sat staring into space. Then he began work again, grinning. “Still, the universe is mostly intact. Can’t argue with that.”
Jack nodded. “There aren’t enough people ready to get their hands dirty for what’s right.”
The Doctor gave a bitter laugh. “Oh, there are, Jack. They just have very different opinions about what’s right.”
“True.” Jack nodded and after a moment’s silence straightened, mood bright again. “So the small talk got big pretty quickly.”
“And then fizzled out. But then, you are a little over-eager.” said the Doctor, sparing two fingers to emphasise just how little.
“Hey!” Jack made a swipe, which the Doctor easily dodged, even with a handful of cables.
“Still, I wouldn’t worry about it. As I understand it’s a problem a lot men have.”
“Really? That why you don’t bother with subtlety, just get right down to it?” Jack stuck his tongue in his cheek, rolling it round obscenely.
“Do you have an off button?” It didn’t come out as wearily as he had intended - more curious, but that was alright too. It might stop them going on about his bad moods.
“I’m sure if you’re technically minded enough you could get me - no? Too easy?” asked Jack mid-innuendo, raising an eyebrows.
“You certainly are, Jack. But Rose and I wouldn’t have you any other way,” The Doctor re-assured him.
“You sure?” Jack asked, sitting legs folded opposite the Doctor. “I play a mean hard to get.”
“I’m sure. Now shut up and get untangling,” he said jerking his head towards the cables pooled between them.
Jack shrugged and picked up a piece of cable. “You’re the boss.”
“Damn right, I am,” the Doctor murmured, re-focusing on his work.
He could do with more like this one.
Author: shadowbyrd
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Doctor Who (2005)
Character(s): Nine and Jack. Some Nine/Jack.
Word Count: 1531
Summary: In which innuendoes are thrown around, the perils of time travel are discussed and male bonding is had.
A/N: Set between Doctor dances and Boomtown.
The Doctor had been meaning to get some sleep for a few days now - if for no other reason than according to Rose he was stroppier than usual and it was getting a bit more difficult than it should be to juggle all his different trains of thought.
He then had a rather unpleasant realisation that it could just be that he was getting old. Nine of thirteen - and however short some of those lives had been they’d been pretty jam packed. Rassilon (and maybe the TARDIS) only knew what sort of state his hearts were in.
In order to take his varied trains of thought off this particular line, he decided instead to spend the night working on a few kinks in the consoles the TARDIS had kept nagging him about.
He was sitting on the floor beside an open section of the console when Jack wandered in. “Did someone call a plumber?”
The Doctor glanced up from his work, acknowledging Jack’s presence. “Captain.”
“Doctor,” Jack smiled and sauntered up to the console to stand beside him. “always so formal. There anything I can do to get us…better acquainted?”
“Nice pause. Very suggestive,” The Doctor remarked, yanking a knot of cables.
“Oh, c’mon!” Jack leant back against the control panel. “I can’t make small talk if you’re critiquing me while we go. Although -”
“That was the idea,” said the Doctor shortly, rattling a few of the looser engine parts.
Jack looked at him for a moment and huffed a laugh. “Not one for subtlety, are you?”
The Doctor pulled himself to his feet and spun a few of the dials, continuing his pretence of industry. “Subtlety takes time - I don’t usually have any going spare.”
“Ironic for the man in the time machine,” Jack remarked, glancing over his shoulder at the central column, which stuttered. Jack pushed off the console. “Speaking of whish, there is one matter you could clear up for me - get me out of your hair.”
The Doctor jerked one of the levers and folded his arms. “I’m all ears.”
“Yeah, I noticed,” Jack said, tilting his head and smiling appreciatively. Noticing the look the Doctor was giving him, he pulled an innocent face. “What? I like ‘em!”
The Doctor rolled his eyes, trying to keep a straight face. “You were saying?” he said.
Jack made a half-hearted effort to follow suit before clearing his throat. “I took a discrete print of both you and Rose when I first met each of you -”
“I know you did,” said the Doctor, holding up his hands. “And I’m sorry, but there is nothing discrete about a sheet of gattacca film on your palm when shaking hands with someone. If that’s your idea of low profile, I shudder to think what you’d consider “all guns blazing” -”
Jack shrugged. “To each his own. I personally find explosions to be quite picturesque, viewed from a safe distance. But anyway - when I gave the film to my ship for analysis. It told me you weren’t human. As if all the ape talk didn’t write out in neon letters and underline it for me. It also gave me a very interesting reading for “age”.”
The Doctor bit his tongue. Not this again. He crouched down, returning his attention to the wiring. “If you were that interested you could have just asked.”
Jack looked affronted. “That would be rude. And considering I’d just met you, rather forward.”
The Doctor looked at him. “You are rude. And forward.”
Jack smirked, turning his head sideways. “You love it really. No subtlety taking up your time.”
“But plenty of tangents,” the Doctor noted, frowning and doing a double take.
“I thought you were getting out of my hair?” he added, digging the banana out of the engine and tossing it over his shoulder.
Behind him he heard Jack sigh. When he spoke he sounded reluctantly serious. “How old are you?”
The Doctor paused. “Excuse me?”
Jack cleared his throat. “When age came up for you I got two different readings. I asked Rose about it and she said you’re nine hundred.”
“That didn’t answer it for you?” the Doctor asked, trying to prise another panel up.
Jack stooped beside him and heaved. Between them (much to the Doctor’s annoyance) they managed to lift the panel away. “It answered something. But I’m curious - where did the other sixty-seven years go?”
The Doctor let the panel go, feeling a sense of grim satisfaction as Jack staggered under its weight. “What makes you think I lost them?”
Jack propped the panel against the railings, panting. “So, you’re actually nine hundred and sixty-seven? And you told Rose you were nine-hundred because you thought you’d stand a better chance if you were younger?”
“Well, they’re both true, from a certain point of view,” said the Doctor, pulling his jacket off and lying on his front to get closing to the wiring. “But the sixty-seven years don’t really count anymore - not in most of the universe.”
“Why not?”
“I lost them.”
There was a pause, then Jack laughed. “You’ll forgive me for saying so - losing two years is unfortunate, but sixty-seven years look likes carelessness. Or revenge.”
The Doctor bit his lip, no longer seeing the wires. “Do you think it’s such a bad thing that you forgot those two years? Maybe something happened in them that you’re better off not remembering.”
Jack raised his head. “What could possibly be so bad?”
“I did something bad,” said the Doctor quietly. “Something terrible. And no one alive in the universe remembers it but me.”
Jack blinked. “Over sixty-seven years?”
The Doctor shrugged. “It was a long chain of somethings. Which were eventually cordoned off in a time lock.” He looked at Jack and smiled. “Sometimes I count them, sometimes I don’t.”
“But if you’re the only one who remembers - why not just forget about it? Pretend that it never happened?”
“But it did. It is. It’s happening right now, over and over.” The Doctor turned his piercing eyes on Jack. “That was why you told us, wasn’t it? You scanned me and. Thought, here’s someone that’s just like you. Maybe he can explain, maybe he can help you.”
“No. I did think those things but that wasn’t why I spoke up about it. I wanted her to trust me. Do it the right way, let her know all the facts first.”
“The right way, eh?”
“It’s frightening how easy it is to gain people’s trust otherwise. You start to take it for granted.”
“They don’t even realise,” said the Doctor.
“Not until it’s too late,” Jack agreed.
The Doctor sighed. “Be very sure you want to know, Jack. Whoever it was who did it might have been doing you a kindness.”
“I think some mistakes are best remembered,” said Jack standing up. “And if it was big enough for them take two years of memory away from me, I think I should know about it. Don’t you agree?”
“I do. Except, I didn’t make a mistake. I did what I did knowing full well what it would mean.” He looked up at Jack and smiled bitterly. “You’re wondering if you can trust me now, aren’t you?”
Jack watched him through narrowed eyes. “Was there anything else you could have done?”
“I don’t know.”
“Was it the right thing to do?”
“I gave up asking myself that a long time ago.” He sat staring into space. Then he began work again, grinning. “Still, the universe is mostly intact. Can’t argue with that.”
Jack nodded. “There aren’t enough people ready to get their hands dirty for what’s right.”
The Doctor gave a bitter laugh. “Oh, there are, Jack. They just have very different opinions about what’s right.”
“True.” Jack nodded and after a moment’s silence straightened, mood bright again. “So the small talk got big pretty quickly.”
“And then fizzled out. But then, you are a little over-eager.” said the Doctor, sparing two fingers to emphasise just how little.
“Hey!” Jack made a swipe, which the Doctor easily dodged, even with a handful of cables.
“Still, I wouldn’t worry about it. As I understand it’s a problem a lot men have.”
“Really? That why you don’t bother with subtlety, just get right down to it?” Jack stuck his tongue in his cheek, rolling it round obscenely.
“Do you have an off button?” It didn’t come out as wearily as he had intended - more curious, but that was alright too. It might stop them going on about his bad moods.
“I’m sure if you’re technically minded enough you could get me - no? Too easy?” asked Jack mid-innuendo, raising an eyebrows.
“You certainly are, Jack. But Rose and I wouldn’t have you any other way,” The Doctor re-assured him.
“You sure?” Jack asked, sitting legs folded opposite the Doctor. “I play a mean hard to get.”
“I’m sure. Now shut up and get untangling,” he said jerking his head towards the cables pooled between them.
Jack shrugged and picked up a piece of cable. “You’re the boss.”
“Damn right, I am,” the Doctor murmured, re-focusing on his work.
He could do with more like this one.