Fic: The Slow Path
Title: The Slow Path
Summary: Nine times Jack found the Doctor, but not what he hoped for
Rating: None
Spoilers: Vague ones for Torchwood season 1
Characters: Jack, the Doctor(s)
Words: 11 drabbles with exactly 100 words each. Do the maths.
Notes: I love canon, I love to work out the linear timelines of the stories. Just a quick exercise to see if I can still write. Doesn't mean it's interesting. It has a lot of large gaps, but canon didn't let me do it differently. Comments are love.
Fic Masterlist: Here.
No betaed, so feel free to nitpick. A virtual cookie and the crown of geekdom to the ones who can tell me the titles of all the stories I used.
It takes time to turn from Torchwood's lab rat into their trusted agent, but Jack can wait. By 1950 no one dares to ask why the leader's name of Torchwood Three hasn't changed in decades.
He does what he's paid for, searching for the Doctor. Jack could just wait for the inevitable refuel stop in Cardiff, but the unique time disturbance of the TARDIS should allow him to pinpoint its position. So Jack decides to take his chances, it's better than waiting.
It's a nice hobby for an immortal and he has nothing better planned for the next centuries anyway.
+++
One, London, 1963
The signal is constant now, resting for a long time. Now Jack watches a white-haired stranger as he rummages through this junkyard. When he hears words muttered in that language the TARDIS always refused to translate, he knows what to ask.
"Doctor?"
The stranger turns, alarmed. Not the right one, no spark of recognition. This is getting dangerous for the fabric of time.
"... Foreman?" tiny eyes are squinting at him, suspicious.
"A couple is fingering your police box, Sir." Jack says, trying not to smirk when the old man rushes off to defend his ship.
Some things never changed.
Seven, London, 1963
It's only been a few months, but Jack's back, out of pure curiosity this time.
He touches the casket gingerly, feeling a strange tingle in his fingertips. This thing is pure power. While still wondering what to do (the urge to hide it almost too strong to be his own), the undertaker interrupts his pondering, guiding another customer into the room.
"You” the small man makes him uncomfortable. Jack leaves without a word, but not without a proximity scan to be sure. Yet he'd spot that contempt in any body.
He doesn't dare to interfere. The Doctor will fix it.
Two, London, 1966
The store is ringing with chronotic energy, but Jack knows better than to be surprised. Travelling through time and selling antiquities is the most common temporal crime. But he won't interfere, just watch.
Time disturbances like this usually attract the Doctor, and when the TARDIS is unloaded from a lorry and placed inside he simply waits.
He purposely bumps into the two strangers sneaking around the store, getting the scannings he needs to be sure.
He sighs as the funny little man turns out to be the Doctor and the Scot simply gorgeous. Pity he can't do anything about it.
Three, UNIT HQ, 1972
He shouldn't have described himself as 'Torchwood spy' in UNIT HQ, Jack thinks, running towards the parking lot. A rather strange looking gentleman gets out of his way, his clothes practically screaming dandy. Jack turns.
"You're the Doctor?" he asks, because he has no time left to be subtle as he planned. The stranger nods.
"Gotta borrow your car Doc," Jack dodges an aikido kick, jumps into the yellow roadster and is through the main gates before alarms wail.
Relationships between UNIT and Torchwood will be frosty over his little stunt for decades, but that should keep this Doctor safe.
Four, Paris, 1979
The time disturbance is big enough to lure him as far as Paris, but whatever it is, it's too strong, making it impossible to track the TARDIS.
Strolling down the Champs-Élyseés, something catches his gaze in one of the windows and it's only when he touches the cool blue wood that he believes what he sees.
The TARDIS hums, recognizing, warning. Wrong time.
It's only when he's shoved out of the way by a stranger with hideously curly hair that he snaps out of his misery. He stares at the disappearing TARDIS, knowing that he made another trip in vain.
Eight, Cambridge, 1979
The signal has been bugging him for years, not like the TARDIS, yet so similar, so he takes a look on his way back. He certainly didn't expect a professor offering tea. The signal has disappeared when scans again, and he disappointedly sips the excellent tea before leaving.
He shuffles towards his car, bumping into one of the doctors by accident. A rather cute, lean one, his locks distracting Jack from his confused frown.
His gorgeous blonde companion quietly reminds him of some appointment, another mystery to solve first. Both go on without looking back.
Jack sighs. Another pointless trip.
Five, London Heathrow, 1982
Another time disturbance brings him to London and a quick use of his Torchwood ID gets him in charge of a Concorde after an impossible flight. The tingle of chronotic energy is breathtaking, as is the sight of the materializing TARDIS. His heart sinks when another stranger emerges.
He suppresses a grin as the Doctor - blonde this time - tries to explain to him and the impatient policemen that he's just in transit, and promptly proves it by dematerializing.
It's back to waiting then. Meanwhile Jack keeps himself busy by interviewing three lovely pilots. Sometimes he loves his job.
Nine, Cardiff, 1991
The readings are off the scale, coming from just across the Bay. Jack finds a battered and hurting TARDIS, her pilot in no better shape, staring blankly at the sea.
Jack's heart lurches; he knows this one, broken by war without the will to go on.
He cups the Doctor's face in his hands, steals another kiss. It's everything he can offer, willing this Doctor to survive, to hope again.
"Who else is there?" Jack asks, noticing the spark return to those ice blue eyes.
"Don't I know you?"
Jack smiles, disentangles himself and runs as fast as he can.
Six, 2003, London
Jack shakes his head, looking at the two divergent paths of history unfolding from the Tower of London. Powerful stuff.
A man dressed in hideously coloured clothes appears out of thin air, runs towards a collapsed man, stating that he can help, that he's a doctor (just not the one Jack hoped for).
Jack organizes a stretcher and listens intently. So the Doctor saved the timeline once more, good.
Jack leaves, before the eyes of the Doctor can meet his. The last thing he needs is a paradox in a weak spot in space-time. He won't come back to London.
Ten, Cardiff, 2007
"Thought I'd find you here," a lanky, pinstriped-suited Doctor grins as he opens the doors, not in the least surprised to have landed in the middle of the Hub.
It has taken so long, but Jack knows today's his lucky day. He grabs the severed hand, his beacon for the TARDIS and the only thing that kept him sane. The familiar hum of the time ship welcomes him, and the Doctor almost suffocates him with his hug.
"You're a very persistent man," the Doctor laughs, and Jack feels the weight of countless years lifted from his shoulders.
He's finally home.
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dune_drd) wrote,
okay
