Disclaimer: I don't own the rights or creative copyright to Doctor Who, and claim no monetary benefits from this story or otherwise related. I do wish I owned a TARDIS, but hey, that part's harder.

A/N: I'm assuming this takes place before "Boom Town", where Jack and the Doctor joke about going out for drinks. They were so hilariously casual about it I wondered if there was an inside joke. And yes, I did play the scrabble game out on a sheet of paper just to be sure I had the tiles/numbers correct.

Description: Jack has a new board game: Slightly Psychic Scrabble. He traded a bottle of Gallifreyan wine for it, and the Doctor is not amused. With a dance as the prize and their prides on the line, the two prepare for the game of their life. Rose thinks they're both mad. Pseudo-crack!fic. Series 1.

Slightly Psychic Scrabble

Jack Harkness was good for the Doctor, or so Rose thought. He was frightfully intelligent, sassy, and expertly batted the Doctor's jibes back at him. It gave Rose time to breathe, and often provided her cheap entertainment. Seeing the two grown men hunched over a table playing board games, however, gave her pause. It was a bit much and kind of dramatic.

"What're you doing?" She peered at the glowing, glass game board set out on the table.

A little matching shelf rested on either side; the Doctor glowered and pushed his tiles, also matching, back and forth on the device. They clicked as they moved. The surfaces swirled with smoke.

Rose blinked. "Are those psychic squares?"

"Yeah." The Doctor stabbed a finger at the board. "It's Slightly Psychic Scrabble. And this wanker won't give up."

"Doctor." Jack smiled and held up his hands. "I think we've firmly established that I'm your equal."

"Did you beat him?" Rose asked.

The American beamed. "Of course! Two games each. I told him we could stop there, but he's obsessed with ending up on top."

The other man rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I am. For God's sake, Jack. How old are you? Thirty, thirty-five?"

"Younger than you, I'm sure."

"That's just the point." The Doctor slapped his hand on the table, rattling the squares. "Nine-hundred years and how many languages do I have? That's what I thought. There is no chance of you beating me."

"You're both mad," Rose said smoothly, though she pulled up a chair all the same. Settling in, she crossed her arms and flicked a hair strand from her face. "You started yet?"

For a moment, the Doctor almost looked distressed. Then he clapped his hands and grinned. "Nope. Just beginning this one. Go ahead, watch. You know what they call me, don't you?"

"The Doctor," Jack said, ducking as a square flew at his forehead. "Hey, we need those! This board isn't cheap. Cost me a five hundred year old reverse-time bottle of wine from-"

"Gallifrey," the Doctor finished. His brows drew. "You traded a bottle of wine from my home for a stupid game. Do you know how rare that vintage is? They're impossible to make unless you deposit them in the past."

"Then I guess we should go do that. We have a TARDIS, and it was mighty tasty."

The Doctor's other hand slapped the table. "Jack the hack. You and I are going to have a game, and you are going to very much regret not sharing the wine."

"It's alcohol. I can buy you more."

"It's made by the Time Lords, which means it's better than anything you apes ever came up with."

"You've obviously never had a martini. Anyway, I can't bet on a nonexistent prize." Jack glanced at Rose. "How about this. Winner gets a dance."

The Doctor's eyes also trailed her way; his cheeks were pink tinted and his eyes were narrow little slits. If they hadn't been arguing over a bottle of wine, Rose would have figured it was the end of the world.

She shrugged. "Whatever. Try and fight nice. And, like, keep the testosterone down. So, how's it work?"

Jack grinned. "The board is larger than you might be used to. Humans aren't the only ones who play this game. It's all over the galaxy, in different forms. You get fifteen tiles each to start, and they trigger specific letters on the first turn."

"Seeds," the Doctor interrupted. He balanced a square between his fingers as if ready to plunk it down. "For the game. The board seeds the start, gives you a place to begin. Then the squares take on whatever form you're thinking of, the ones you draw, after. It's hard, because you begin to associate words the more that's played. Second round, you draw ten more and bring your hand to twenty-five tiles. It's all about thinking quick. Forming moves before your opponent can think of counter words. Lots of selection. Lots of space."

"Like this." Jack carefully set down a line of eight tiles in the middle of the board. They spelled the word 'sabotage'. His corner of the board lit up with a points score.

"No. Bollocks you got a real word on the first turn."

"Bollocks your face I did." Jack put his hands behind his head and leaned backwards, grin intensifying into a smirk. "Timer's going. You have thirty seconds."

The Doctor didn't blink. He swept the tiles into his hand and deposited them on the board. "Intercept. Timer's yours."

"Blimey," Rose muttered, rolling her eyes again. "You'd think you were a couple Daleks playing with key-codes."

The Doctor snorted. "Yeah, and a Dalek may beat me. But he's not a Dalek. He's just a stupid-"

Clack. "Neanderthal. Great word. Very descriptive. I like it. Time."

The tiles clicked so quickly Rose thought they'd materialized on the board.

"Boisterous," the Doctor said. "Also a fantastic descriptor. Time."

"Oh, very nice. Here you go, one of my favourites." Jack snapped the tiles down.

Rose leaned across the board and mouthed the letters. "Sanctimonious?"

"It means-"

She cackled loudly. "I know what it means, silly."

"Glad you do, Rose," the Doctor said dourly. "Because I think Jack the hack here thinks it applies to me." He shuffled the tiles back and forth on the shelf. "I rather like this one. There. Thespian."

"Boring." Jack pretended to snore. "Is that the best you can do, Doc?"

"I don't see you putting down a word. Stuck?"

"Been saving one just for you." He grinned and crossed the tiles against 'intercept'. "Timelord."

The room went silent. The Doctor sat back in his chair, folded his arms, and raised an eyebrow. "You're sure about that."

"Yep."

"You still have five seconds to withdraw."

"Nope."

"Are you mocking me?"

"Yep."

"Because it's two words, not one, meaning those are my points." The Doctor trailed his finger across the misplaced tiles. They flashed briefly before freezing again in place. The points added to his total. "Jack the hack."

"Boys." Rose sighed. "I said, play nice."

Grinning, the Doctor retrieved replacement tiles from the case. "We are! Honest."

"Scout's honour," Jack said, with a chuckle. He paused, then chuckled again, repeatedly, until both he and the Doctor were grinning and laughing manically.

"Jack the hack says he has honour. The mercenary." He wiped his eyes. "Blimey, are you mad?"

"Nope. I'm not bald, either." Without breaking the grin, he clacked the tiles to the board across the bottom of 'timelord'.

The room went very quiet again.

"It's just the cut," the Doctor said, eventually. Rose couldn't tell if he was hurt or so angry he couldn't speak properly. "You know, it's not the ridiculous poof and pomp that's growing on yours."

"Hey, I'm just playing Scrabble."

"Slightly Psychic Scrabble. You wanted those letters."

"It's on a triple word score and it worked. If you're that curious, I blanked on a word beginning with Z. I want lots of things, Doctor. I also like dancing. Do you?"

"Yeah." He glanced at the time clock, which was ticking down in fluorescent print along the side of the board. "Yeah, I do. I love it. Jitterbug, swing. And you know what, I would even do a square dance if it meant you weren't getting it."

"I'd love to see that."

"I'm sure you would."

"But I won't. Because you've got three seconds left to play, and I really doubt-"

Clack. "Narcissist."

"That's just mean. Here's one for you." Jack clacked his remaining tiles together. "Madman."

"You're lucky that's one word, or I'd be getting your points again."

"Doctor, you're talking way too much. Stumped?"

"Hardly. More like this." Clack. "Savant."

"How many tiles are there?" Rose interrupted.

Jack cracked his knuckles. "A hundred and twenty. The board is thirty squares by thirty. We've used eighty-one tiles, so far. Better make that seventy-four." He drawled out the vowels of the word obnoxiously. "Clueless."

"Seventy-one. Git. Triple-word score."

"That's exceptionally mean. And blunt. Losing your flair for the dramatic? Here you go. Sixty-six. Wanker."

"Fifty-seven. Omnisexual."

Jack paused, his hand and the tiles a few inches from the board. "Now, Doc. Is that another insult?"

"It's an adjective that accurately describes you, since we're playing that game."

"Are you implying I screw anything and everything?"

"Yep. Sounds about right."

"Neat. I wonder how many years that'd take?" He grinned, replaced his tiles on the shelf, and stared at them carefully. "Never mind, I know at least one hard-assed nut I'd never crack."

"He said nuts," Rose muttered under her hand. She cackled so hard she nearly fell over. "Crack your nuts."

"Yeah, and don't get your hopes up," the Doctor said. He tapped the board with a finger. "Your time's running out."

"Come on. Don't you think I'm ..." He paused, then snapped a ten-letter word to the board.

"Attractive? Yes. Every stupid warm-blood in this galaxy would probably think that. Hell, I'm sure you could charm a Dalek. You're also insufferable."

"Is that your word?"

"No. Wait. Yeah. It is. There."

Jack starred at the board. "The thing I like about this game is that it's a thirty by thirty board. So much space. So many words." He juggled the tiles between his fingers, even running one up and along his knuckles. "All right. Something simple. Fart."

The Doctor had many faces, and nothing made Rose laugh harder than when he rolled his eyes. It made his ears stick out like little radar dishes. The eye roll vanished as he studied the board carefully, glanced at the score, and back to his still blank tiles.

Slowly, he drew four tiles and spelled out 'stank'. "That's it. I don't have a full hand. You'd better makes yours count."

Jack didn't move. He stared at the tiles, eyes glimmering until mirthful tears ran down his cheeks. He laughed wordlessly, rocking back and forth on the chair and running his palms across his face, which had turned the colour of a raspberry.

"Oi. Jack the hack." The Doctor leaned back and folded his arms. He glowered at the mercenary with hooded eyes. "Your turn. Unless you're forfeiting?"

"Forget that. I'm going to win." Tears still rolling, Jack very carefully pulled twenty-two tiles from his shelf and began to stack them, one by one, perpendicular to 'bald'.

The Doctor stared. He leaned forward. His mouth gaped; silently, he turned to Rose and pointed angrily at the board.

"Is that how you spell it?" Rose asked hesitantly.

"Of course," the Doctor said. "Jack the hack would never put down such a risky word unless he spelled it perfectly correct. Because the points would go to me, otherwise, and we can't have that."

"I can say it this time," Rose said. "Raxacoricofallapatorius."

"I want my dance," Jack said, grinning and raising an eyebrow. He made a clicking sound with his tongue and looked at the Doctor. "You promised."

"Hands above my hips," the Doctor said. "Or you're going to find out what happens to people who ride on the outside of the TARDIS."

Jack's teeth gleamed in the control room's low lighting. "Course not, Doc. I'm an honourable guy. An attractive, respectful-"

"-Honourable git. Of course."

"Who sees beauty all over the galaxy. It's wonderful. Lots of good people out there, just like you."

The Doctor sighed and tried to sway in time to the music. It was the same, stupid song the mercenary had played when they'd been stuck in the Blitz. It had been Jack and Rose's song at first, then the Doctor and Rose's. Now it was everyone's, and from the grin on Jack's face, he seemed to think it was an all around auditory orgy.

"I think you're a lovely couple," Rose said, though she only managed the first few words before breaking into hysterics. "Really, really lovely."

"I wouldn't have asked," Jack said, "if I didn't think he was worth it. Cream of the crop. I bet I'm in a very exclusive club to dance with the Doctor. Though, I think he'd look better with more length on his hair. The spiky look."

"Don't push your luck. You're not my type."

Jack leaned in and whispered, drawing additional giggles from Rose. "Take care of her. I'm a bit jealous, Doctor. But I'm damn trustworthy. If she wants you, and I think she does, then she's yours. I know you like her."

He stiffened. "It's not like that at all. Rose is my companion. Same as you, unfortunately."

"Well, how do you say it? She fancies you." His smile faltered momentarily. "I'm just happy to be on board and counted as a friend. And I'm sorry about the wine."

The Doctor's lips twitched. Against his better judgement, he smiled. "There's a fantastic bar in 1930s New York. Makes excellent martinis. Rose," he called, "You want martinis?"

"Why?"

"He needs a drink," Jack said with a chuckle, pulling away as the music faded. "And a rematch."

The Doctor sighed, moved to the controls, and began to plug in the coordinates. "You earned that win. I won't be a sore loser."

"A concession, even. I'm astounded." Jack spun to the door as the disharmonic tones of the TARDIS began to ring. "Drinks on the house, then. Who's with me?"

End