Here is the sequel to 'The Doctor Sings' (You'll need to read that first!) Why has Jack lost his memory?
Disclaimer: I own nothing! However the character of Lizzie Cash is my own creation.
1942
"Who the hell are you people?"
Rose's eyes go wide. The Doctor fishes in his pocket and pulls out the sonic screwdriver. "Setting seventy five, hold it against his temple."
Rose scrambles across the floor and presses it to Jack's head. He tries to jerk away but she presses the button too quickly. He passes out with a thump on the decking.
Rose stares at him in horror. "What did you make me do?" she demands. "What's going on?"
The Doctor pushes himself painfully to his feet. "I think we have a problem."
Rose steps into the med bay having changed into jeans and a t-shirt. Jack is still unconscious on a bed, three rectangular translucent glass panels arranged around his head on a metal frame. There is a soft hum in the air and the Doctor is studying a monitor intently, the wound on his head neatly stitched up already. There is a tiny frown line between his eyebrows and he looks incredibly tired.
"Looks like you're joining the WAAF."
"I'm what?" Rose moves to Jack's side and takes his hand. "Is he ok?"
"I'm keeping him sedated. He could hurt himself, or us."
"What's wrong with him?"
"Don't know," the Doctor says almost cheerfully. "But he thinks its 1942."
"He what? How do you know that?"
"1942 Rose. Second world war. Hence WAAF. And I figured you'd look cuter in a uniform than grubby overall and a headscarf in the land army." He steps over and taps one of the plates with a finger. "And I know that because the TARDIS knows it, these things are time sensitive."
"Ok," Rose blinks slightly confused. She looks down at Jack. "So we're taking him back to 1942?"
"Yep."
"Why? Can't we just treat him here?"
The Doctor moves to her side and looks down at their friend. "If Jack's regressed to thinking its 1942 then something happened there, good or bad. He can't wake up here. Hmm 1942, well I can only figure he was jumping in and out of the war before he met us. At best he'd think we were Time Agents, at worst," the Doctor shakes his head. "Do you remember what he told us about the Time Agency when we first met?"
Rose looks at him wide eyed. "They stole two years of his life," she realises suddenly. "Is this because of that?"
The Doctor shrugs. "No idea. That or absorbing the time vortex or the Bad Wolf or something else. He's never known us Rose. We're strangers to him so we have to act like that. We need to watch him, befriend him, and work out what is going on."
Rose nods. "So the WAAF huh?"
Captain Jack Harkness rubs his eyes with one hand and lifts his glass to his mouth with the other. He doesn't remember getting drunk last night, would seem like a silly thing to do when getting transferred to a new place. He gives his eyes a final rub and sets his empty pint glass down on the wooden picnic bench table at which he is sat. He looks up at the imposing building of Bishop Otter College that looms over everything, and squints in the late summer sunlight. A few service men sit at other tables nearby and eye him suspiciously. Someone mutters something about a "bleeding yank". Jack ignores it. Pretending to be a volunteering Yankee in the RAF provides him plenty of cover, wars always provide plenty of cover for cons. If only he had a con to be running right now, it isn't his fault opportunities have been a bit thin on the ground lately.
Suddenly a pint of beer is set down on the table in front of him and a man slings himself onto the bench opposite with his own pint in hand. Jack looks up. The man is probably the same height as he is. Hazel eyes. Shock of brown hair threatening to escape from its slicked down style. He sizes up the uniform, typical RAF blue, covered in all the right insignia.
"You must be a new boy too huh?" The man's accent is impeccably English, slightly posh, most certainly an officer.
Jack nods and pulls out his psychic paper. "Yeah Captain Jack Harkness. Just transferred here. And you are?"
"Flight Lieutenant John Smith," the man flashes him a wide boyish grin as he looks at the paper and passes it back. He lowers his voice conspiratorially. "We need more yanks like you, kick the Germans in the teeth. Long as we don't die eh?"
"Yeah don't want that." Jack smiles. For some reason he can't help liking this English officer.
"You dance? Course you do, all you Yankee flyboys dance."
Jack raises an eyebrow at this sudden change of topic. "You askin'?"
The man sips his pint, swallows, laughs and says. "You're not my type."
Jack can't help but think shame at that. This English officer certainly is cute.
He nods towards a handwritten poster pinned outside the officer's mess. "I hear some new WAAF recruits are in town. Figure they'll flock to the yank, realise you're an arrogant son of a bitch and talk to me instead." The man grins to show he is joking.
"No ulterior motive in talking to me then?" Jack takes a long drink of his pint.
"Not at all."
"Alright then Brit," Jack smiles at him. "Let's see if you can keep up with me." He raises his glass. "Here's to new recruits."
The Doctor clinks his glass against Jack's. "Looking forward to it."
Rose smiles at the girl setting up her bunk next to her. She has mid-brown hair, elegantly curled compared to Rose's rather untidy ponytail, and rosy cheeks and twinkling green eyes. Probably about Rose's age.
"Hello," she says smiling back. "I'm Elizabeth Cash. But everyone calls me Lizzie."
"I'm Rose Tyler, you new too?"
"Yes. Joined up to do my bit and didn't fancy digging fields."
Rose laughs. "Me neither."
She finishes unpacking and slides the battered brown leather suitcase under her bunk. "So what do we do for fun around here?"
"You really are new round here aren't you sweetie?" Lizzie says laughingly.
Rose frowns at her.
"Flyers Rose! Real live RAF pilots! Based just up the road." Lizzie grins. "They'll take us dancing. You got a sweetheart back home or something?"
"No," Rose lies. "But I did see one pilot when I walking in who..." she stops, thinking about the Doctor in his RAF uniform and blushes.
"Ooo" Lizzie squeals. "Do tell!"
Rose shrugs. "Not a lot to say. He just stepped out of my way and gave me the cutest smile."
Lizzie raises her eyebrows and grins wickedly. "Well there's a dance tonight in town. Shall we dare to hope you can snare said flyboy?"
Rose giggles. "We'll see."
"Now me, I like the Yankee doodle dandies who come flying in. Always such gentlemen and I swear the U.S uniform is so much more dashing."
Rose giggles and decides that she likes Lizzie a lot. "I'll have to decide what to wear. Can you help me do my hair?"
"Of course," Lizzie gives her hand a squeeze. "I do think we shall be friends Rose."
The Doctor leans against the bar with all the arrogance of a pilot and sips his beer. He sweeps his gaze across the gaggle of young women and couples dancing and looks for her. He nearly chokes on his pint when he spots her. Her hair is rolled up in a perfect 1940's 'victory roll' hairstyle, her lips are shocking red and she has on a navy blue knee length dress, with matching ankle strap shoes, and seamed stockings. The Doctor lets his eyes trace up the back of her legs for a little longer than he should.
"Seen someone?" Jack's voice makes him look up.
"Maybe," he says carefully quickly taking a sip of his drink.
"Hello," Jack says suddenly, his voice full of sleazy promise. The Doctor follows his gaze, To Rose, and winces. He doesn't really want Jack hitting on Rose. But that was probably likely to happen.
Jack eyes the blonde appreciatively. Something is off about her though. Like she doesn't quite fit. She has every detail perfect but something is still off.
Jack pats the Doctor on the shoulder. "Looks like we found our new recruits. I want the blonde." He starts walking across the dance hall towards the two girls sat at a table. He turns to look at the Doctor. "You coming Brit?"
The Doctor pastes a smile on his face and follows him.
"Flyboys at two o'clock," Lizzie grins at Rose.
Rose looks up and spots Jack and the Doctor walking towards them. She pretends to fuss with her skirt while watching the Doctor out of the corner of her eye. He winks at her secretly.
"Hey Doll," Jack drawls, his American accent much more pronounced than usual. Probably playing it up for full effect. "Captain Jack Harkness at your service miss."
"A Captain?" Rose says breathily. "You're not from round here are you?"
"No ma'am. I'm from the good ol' U.S of A."
"Have you fought many battles?"
"Oh several," Jack grins widely. "I nearly died."
"How terrible," Rose says feelingly, not seeing the Doctor roll his eyes. He told Rose to play along with Jack but turning into a simpering idiot won't help anyone.
"What's your name beautiful?"
"Rose Tyler."
Jack gets this slightly far away look in his eyes for just a fraction of a second but Rose sees it.
"Who is your friend?" Lizzie asks eying the Doctor, realising that the American is more into Rose right now.
"Err…I…Flight Lieutenant John Smith," the Doctor finally manages to splutter out, "RAF."
"Well Flight Lieutenant Smith I think you're going to take me to dance," Lizzie says taking his hand and standing up.
The Doctor throws a look over his shoulder at Rose. But she knows he'll be alright. If the old Doctor could dance then this one certainly can.
"Are you dancing beautiful?" Jack asks with one of his most charming grins.
She takes his proffered hand and smiles back at him. He leads her onto the dance floor with practised ease and takes her in his arms. It reminds her of her farewell party and that thought brings a lump to her throat as she thinks of her mum. She blinks and swallows until it is gone and looks up at Jack as he swings her round the dance floor. Jack is a good enough dancer that it more than makes up for her lack of knowledge of this type of dancing. He pulls her closer to him than is probably appropriate for this era and grins at her widely.
"You know Rosie I could show you the stars."
She just looks up at him and smiles. "I don't doubt that for a second."
"May I escort you home?" Jack helps Rose into her coat.
She glances round and can't see the Doctor or Lizzie anywhere, and she knows she'll be safe with Jack. "You may," she smiles at him.
He holds out his arm to her and she takes it. They walk outside and back towards barracks in companionable silence for a few minutes until Jack pulls her gently to a stop.
"Rose you look beautiful tonight."
"Thank you. Although you told me about eight times."
He grins, then leans down and kisses her, and Rose doesn't know how to stop him without arousing his suspicion. Not that she wants to arouse anything else for that matter. He deepens the kiss and his arms go around her. Oh god, Rose thinks, I hope the Doctor doesn't see this. He finally releases her but keeping his face close to hers, stares into her eyes, and says huskily, "You realise we could both die tomorrow?"
Rose raises an eyebrow. "Really Captain," she chides, "on our first date?"
He grabs her hand and holds it in both of his against his chest, over his heart. "But its true. Do you want me to go into battle and possible die never having made love to you?" he says earnestly.
Rose can feel his heart beating against her palm. She smiles at him but pulls her hand out of his. "No Jack." She trusts he won't push it further. She doesn't want to hit him, doesn't mean she won't though.
"Alright then," he drawls sexily. "I'll try tomorrow night."
Rose just looks at him.
"I'm stubborn," he says smiling at her.
"Yeah Jack I know."
He frowns just the tiniest bit at that.
"What's to say I don't like your friend more?" Rose says quickly covering.
"What the Brit?" Jack laughs. "I don't believe you."
He takes her hand and they start walking again. "You're not a local girl are you?"
She laughs loudly. "You have no idea."
Jack just stares at her for a moment, a strange idea worming around his brain. He is going to have to watch Miss Tyler very carefully indeed.
The Doctor paces up and down the TARDIS and counts every ache in his body to try and keep his mind off Rose. He saw Jack kissing her and it took all of his will power not to go over and beat the man to a pulp. He trusts Rose but he wants her here with him. He wants to crawl into bed with her and have her hold him in her arms. He died. Properly died and he can't remember it. He doesn't know what that means. Or what it means with the Bad Wolf. Did Jack take it all from Rose? He thought he had before when he regenerated and it was still in her, waiting to come out to save him. And now he hurts all over. He sits down heavily on the jump seat and sighs. Where is she?
He'd walked Lizzie home, all polite and proper, gone a bit stammery when she batted her eyelashes at him, and taken his leave as quickly as he was able. He'd back tracked to find Rose and Jack.
The Doctor works a crick out of his neck and rubs his eyes. He feels a bubble of anger rising in his throat and with a wordless yell slams his hands into the console. Why isn't she here? She knows what happened to him. Doesn't she care? Of course she does. She always cared. The Bad Wolf proves that. But that doesn't stop the tiny worm of doubt crawling across his mind. She let Jack cuddle on her bed with her after that fight. She'd stormed out on him. Jack found her first. He was her rescuing knight in shining armour. The Doctor feels suddenly cold and very alone. He just wants her to tell him it is going to be okay. Because for once he is very scared and has no clue whatsoever what is going on.
Rose stares at the ceiling and misses the Doctor's arms around her. It was only one night that they slept like that yet she misses it already. After their fight he spent the whole of the next night tinkering and growling at Jack.
Lizzie was already asleep when she crept back in and undressed. Rose couldn't help feeling a little relieved. She does trust the Doctor but he does have a habit of making women fall in love with him and him not realise it. She sighs quietly and thinks that she is no nearer to working out what is wrong with Jack. And as much fun as the overly flirty pilot Jack is, she still misses her Jack. And wonders nervously if he has the power to bring the Bad Wolf out of her again – her wish to protect the Doctor certainly can – or if he took it all out of her in that kiss. She touches a finger to her lips. He didn't care if he died; only that she lived. She wonders if she caused him to lose his memories. Did the Bad Wolf wipe them away? Oh Jack where are you, she thinks worriedly and rolls over.
Note: Bishop Otter College was what is now the Bishop Otter campus of Chichester University and in 1941-42 it was taken over as a base for the RAF using nearby Tangmere airfield to launch sorties from. There is a brass plaque in one of the lecture rooms commemorating this. I used to stare at it during my American Playwrights lectures since I am an old Chichester Uni student.
I have no definitive details regarding what the RAF did or how the 'base' was arranged so that is fictional but I am using my own knowledge of the building to go on.
Okay...Coming soon - "Jack is bragging about you! And painting you naked..."
You know what to do, press that lilac button and let me know what you think. I'd love to hear everyone's conspiracy theories too about Jack.