A/N :
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Firstly …. :
The characters Jack Harkness and Ianto Jones have absolutely nothing to do with me …. …. slowly ambles off, head down; sobbing quietly.
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Secondly … :
I've been making a real effort in trying to dust away at every fug affected corner up top that I could reach ….
Plus I've tried having a little time away from all that is Janto ….
I even tried humouring my mithering x.x. J muse for a while, but that proved to be just as fruitless when it came to injecting some fresh air where it was needed the most.
Finally, I revisited an earlier idea of mine, which saw me digging out, and then editing, something from 'ye olde bwb back catalogue' … ( … thought it might give me that therapeutic kick up the 'Captain Jacksy' that was required. )
Well, originally penned roughly a year ago … this is now the end result …. Five, relatively short (well, short for me), chapters, which, while I'm pretty sure the first two aren't going to be to everybody's taste, I'm hoping (with the final three being more agreeable ) might be accepted as something of a tenuous 'fix-it'. If you can make it to the end of chapter five, you'll see what I mean.
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Oh, and before I forget …
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Thirdly ….. :
To set the mood, the words below were my original inspiration for the coming story and reflect how I believe Jack could quite quickly become if forced to live through every single day in torment ….. consumed not only by his guilt, but also by a constant sense of unbearable loss ….
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The Captain's Lament
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Life ripped apart; hearts left untwined
The solitude is hell defined
His journey long, its path inclined
The Captain's is a tortured mind
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His memory sharp, the guilt deserved …
…. unspoken words now fixed in time
Each life is spent alone, reserved …
….. so each new heart becomes unkind
And nothing there to ease his pain …..
…. his heart is finally rendered blind.
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The coming tale is set way beyond those initial years of him experiencing nothing but loneliness.
Its aim?
To show just how selfish a damaged heart can become ….. A demonstration, if you like, of the lengths to which one broken man will go, merely to hold on to the one person that he truly believes he will never … ever … be able to stop himself from loving.
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Jack Harkness is immortal.
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Jack Harkness thinks he can 'make do' …
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…... but can he?
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No Substitute
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Chapter One ….. The Cold-hearted Assassin
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Location : Richmond upon Thames, England.
Year : 2065
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Even the moon had given up the ghost. With it reflecting vainly behind a blanket of thunderous looking clouds, the sky above the Thames Valley was dark; much darker than usual. And as they began to fall with an abruptness that only the threat of an oncoming storm could bring, disrupting the relative quiet of Dowman Crescent, heavy drops of rain began to hit their targets; an angry hiss filling the air as spits, followed by spots, quickly became torrential.
In the back yard of number forty two a dog's barking was sounding nothing but insistent, as if the thing was angrily voicing its displeasure at being left out in, this, the second downpour of the evening. Of course, in an ever-changing world, where the truth quite regularly proved itself to be far, far stranger than fiction, only a fool would accept such a situation at face value and, indeed, to one particular individual racing along; not a million miles from that very scene, a more reasonable explanation for the canine's unsociable behaviour would be that it was simply becoming increasingly more fearful for its own safety.
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As the first clap of thunder began to fade, the roar of an engine accelerating along Ackerman's Link began to add something special all of its own to the growing cacophony, and as the vehicle whipped its way round with a screech into Ackerman Drive the glare being created by its xenon headlamps was blinding.
Some would say unnecessarily so.
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The unfamiliar noise finally becoming an issue for the small creature, with its ears twitching, the dog fell silent. The car quickly followed suit and for just a few blissful seconds the only sound was the loud smack of a million and one stair-rods as they continued to slam themselves one after the other, as hard as they possibly could onto the concrete slabs below.
Already bored with the game; seeming almost belligerent in its overruling of Mother Nature and her monopoly of the airwaves , prompting one already anxious animal to re-join the chorus, the car began to accelerate hard again, instantly sending out a menacing growl all of its own.
With normal service resumed, a second flash, even brighter than the last, sheeted its way across a portentous overcrowding of cumulonimbus and with yet another loud roar the archaic Jensen Interceptor attempted to give the ensuing rumble of thunder a run for its money.
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With its early twenty first century livery glinting as it shot past him, covering his ears and averting his eyes, a surprised late night commuter tried to convince himself that the strange sight had merely been the result of him having lounged for far too long in the shuttle-terminus tavern; where he'd shamelessly just spent the last three hours imbibing far too many glasses of that rubbish moonshine that the licensee had been trying to pass off as hypervodka of late. Still, his current level of inebriation being the reason or not, it was with visible relief that he lifted his lids to find that the threat of danger had, thankfully, passed. To his mind this made him an outright winner; he was a clever bastard … even if he said so himself …he knew that, because of his swift reactions, he'd managed to hear no evil, see no evil, and if the authorities decided to question him over the incident before the night was out, he would be able to tell them, hand on heart, that he was not in a position to speak of any, either.
No association. No crime. That's what he'd always been taught. And if being convicted of concealing the existence of such a vehicle (or protecting its owner) was going to mean him having to do a five year stretch of hard-labour at the very least, then he would forever make a point of keeping his ears covered, his eyes closed ….. and his trap shut.
Of course, in the real world there was no earthly reason why a beast like that should still be on the road; they just didn't exist anymore. Developed way back in the second decade, this particular marque had been designed to run on nothing but fossil fuel derivatives, and with those long since having been designated for the use of emergency or government vehicles only, the simple fact that this gas guzzling monster was even in existence meant that its keeper was breaking several laws all at once.
Disappointed with himself, the commuter stopped on the spot to sigh heavily through the torrent of water. He'd been imagining things, hadn't he ….. that type of car just didn't exist anymore … Did it? No. Of course it didn't.
So, perhaps it was the moonshine after all.
A couple of hundred feet up ahead, and just a little further over to his left, an almighty roar sounded out through the rain.
Okay … so perhaps it wasn't the moonshine.
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A metallic green so dark it was almost black; with a mixture of both glamour and stealth the sleek, almost predatory, beauty coasted its way over to the kerb then rumbled along in the guttering until it came to a direct halt outside number forty two. The engine was killed, the blazing lights faded and, in turn, the dog in the back yard of the property once again lost its tongue.
As the driver hauled himself free from the confines of a factory fitted Recaro, first one laced boot, and then another, splashed down onto the wet flagstones. The heavy door was propelled back into its rightful place, the vehicle's alarm activated and as he squinted upward, the lightning made a point of carefully picking out the, equally as electric, blue of his eyes.
Distracted for a second by the new and much more dramatic forked display above, a single shot being fired dragged his attention back to ground level and already starting to make his move he frowned as a terrified shout also came from inside the property. With his coattails whipping out behind him it took just five long bounds for him to cover the entire length of the front driveway.
Gravel crunching loudly, he thudded to a halt and snatching a gun from its holster he used both hands to steady the thing before squeezing the trigger. Unusually there was no kick back; no loud reverb sounding out to cut through the already statically charged atmosphere. In fact, with the whole scene remaining surprisingly silent, the only noticeable difference was the appearance of a very neat square hole where, no more than a moment ago, a Vectro-Tech Corp security device had been sitting.
Coming again from inside the house, something of a more traditional sounding shot succeeded where the unorthodox weapon had failed, and as it continued to shatter the silence it was closely followed by yet another anxious cry. Rushing out a quick cuss of his own, the visitor took one big step backward then, still with very little reverence for anything wooden, he proceeded to boot the already weakened door inward.
Inside, swift reflexes saw him instantly readied with a second gun and rushing forward with his arms outstretched he began to sweep it from side to side.
From the room to his left he heard the same voice as before. "I'm in here! Please … Help me!"
The accent bringing with it a blast from his past, it also managed to send a chill running straight through him.
Hurriedly clutching his weapon to his chest he slammed his body onto the wall and inching his way along to the doorway at the very end, he paused to listen. He'd been hoping to take something of a quick victory here tonight, but it was now clear that his options were in need of some serious rethought. After all, it was only seconds ago that he'd been totally convinced that plan 'A' was the only route to follow for this particular rescue; this would normally have seen him rushing the scene, the idea being that the sudden movement would startle any intruder into surrendering without a fight. But, of course, in having just announced his arrival for him, his right boot had already robbed him of any element of surprise that he might have had.
Every instinct he owned was telling him that in that next room, someone, or something, was just itching for him to make the first move and going with those same gut feelings he decided to use plan 'A' , regardless of his previous misgivings. Someone was waiting for his assistance …. and time was of the essence.
Without another thought, he drew in a deep lungful of air to heighten his senses then threw himself straight through the already opened doorway.
And it was at that very moment … that his whole world started to fall apart.
He was trained for this. He hadn't gone in blind. He wasn't stupid. He'd already accepted that the chances of him being able to deal with what he found here tonight were going to be slim to non-existent, but still, in one swift move, every single last breath that he owned had just been stolen from his lungs.
Deliberately bringing himself up short he adopted an oppressive pose, and making sure that his features were reflecting the same gung-ho attitude he attempted to conceal the raw, emotional and very painful reaction that he was really experiencing. Also, rather disconcertingly, his heart had taken it upon itself to travel northward, and with it sticking firmly at the base of his throat he was being left convinced that the small amount of control he'd arrived with only minutes earlier, was now on the verge of deserting him completely.
Beginning to tremble, but using his best efforts to conceal the fact, he tightened first his left hand, and then his right, around an already sweat slicked grip.
This was bad … Oh, this was sohhhhhh bad.
Okay, no ….. This was worse than bad …. The situation had already gone way past the worse than hopeless stage; it was now in desperate need of some divine intervention …
Did he have time to pray?
Damn … He'd forgotten how to, hadn't he …...
Okay, no problem …. he could learn again …..
Yeah ….. He'd remember how to ….
Just for him ….
With his eyes darting up to the ceiling, then down to the floor, and then from side to side; eager to make a more detailed note of his surroundings, in no more than a blink, he'd already re-evaluated his position. Not that it was really helping any. With his heart now sitting just a little higher up and beginning to thump out the strangest of beats behind his Adam's apple, he found himself reluctantly having to accept that, whichever way he chose to deal with tonight's situation, he would definitely be walking away from it as a loser in some respect.
His stare locked onto that of the terrified hostage; a show of barely controlled fear was sitting there staring straight back at him. As he forced himself to take in the sight of some very familiar features his insides lurched and he was forced to admit that he was fast approaching panic stations himself. A new feeling of complete and utter helplessness began to sweep through him and with an unforgiving rush it was already on a mission to pilfer every relevant scrap of common sense and logic that it could find.
A tickling sensation at his left temple told him that a trickle of sweat had appeared. The storm still raging away outside was the direct result of the atmosphere over the past two days becoming only more humid, heavy; oppressive, and right now it was doing nothing to help him hold on to his normally cool, calm and collected exterior. Giving his head a quick flick he dealt with the offending bead of moisture, and hoped he'd dealt with the show of evidence before it'd managed to give the game away.
Another line of moisture slid downward to settle at the same spot. His stomach twisted and the new addition of anxiety based cramps began to make him feel nauseous.
This couldn't be real.
He was more than open to the idea that all sorts of strange things had their place within this Universe; had been all his life, in fact ….. But this … this was ….. this was ….. No, sorry …. this was just crazy …..
How could a situation like this even be possible? This had to be one of his many past victims choosing to wreak their revenge with one almighty mother of a mind game.
Was he brave enough to call their bluff?
Brave enough? Him? Who was it that had willingly offered himself up to the Great Devourer … 'and' survived to tell the tale? ….
Come ohhhhhn … Brave enough? Him? Of course he was brave enough …
… But what if this wasn't a bluff …
….. What if this wasn't his mind playing tricks on him …..?
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Tensing his frame, he regrouped his thoughts and focussed, instead, on the intruder.
"Okay, come on, Fox …." He said as confidently as he could, although, in truth, his voice hadn't sounded anywhere near as forceful as he'd been hoping it might. "Don't you think you're maybe overreacting just a little, here?" He added with something of a more sarcastic lilt going on.
His reward was a look of total disinterest.
Subconsciously shifting his weight from one foot to the other he tried taking a different, more authoritative, tack. "Come on, Ban, I'm not joking here. It's game over, buddy; this just isn't funny anymore …. so why don't you do the sensible thing and just …. put …. the damned …. gun …. down!" With a subtle flick of his head he gestured that the creature on the other side of the room should throw its weapon out to the side. "Hey, you never know," He added, reverting to his use of a more jovial style of banter. "….. play ball with me tonight and you just might make it out of this alive."
Ignored once again, his right cheek began to twitch and he scowled across the room. On the surface there was a look in his eyes that spoke of fear and frustration, but underneath that there was something else trying to shine its way through ….. Compassion? Regret? A sadness?
In insisting on standing there completely motionless, the alien itself was managing to be just 'that' : very, very ….. alien … in every sense of the word. From the strange pulsing vein that ran from the base of its skull right the way over to the middle of its wrinkled forehead …. to its fur swathed lower half (the indigo hairs in that region not only disguising its nakedness, but also complementing, in a rather deliberate fashion, the pale blue skin up top ) ….. all in all it seemed to be just very, very ….. alien. Well, compared to all the other examples of late twenty-first century extra-terrestrials found in the Richmond area it was, anyway.
Just above its acutely pointed chin, a couple of thin lines were masquerading as lips. So far they'd yet to form either a smile or a frown and at this point in the proceedings it wouldn't have been entirely unreasonable for anybody unfamiliar with this particular species to have assumed that the strange thing was simply unable to perform either feat.
Further up, there were no ears or nose to speak of, and even though it had the requisite two eyes sitting in what could vaguely be classed the ideal position, every so often they would meld to form something that was mostly reminiscent of one big green almond.
Even the meatless bones of its upper body were a lie; the thing seemed to possess the strength of something much, much larger than itself and trapped in the crook of its arm, with the thing's powerful grip beginning to tighten around his throat even further, rather than give the abhorrence just the slightest sense of satisfaction, the elderly hostage was holding firmly on to his pride and stubbornly swallowing down every strangled cry that threatened to break free.
With the human that had dared to interrupt it still waiting opposite with baited breath, the creature itself was studying the commanding pose of the man. Amusingly, that stare in its opponent's eyes was continuing to send out many mixed signals; all of them very revealing, and that long grey woollen coat of his was not only severely out of its time, it was also a very poor choice, given the temperatures that the region had been experiencing for the past few days. Still, that was the human race for you … very rarely logical.
Without warning it vented a loud and harsh, derisive laugh. The sudden sound made the pensioner's blood run cold and finding himself stumbling as he was tugged sharply onto the creature's side, this time he could do nothing but give voice to his fear.
Out in the yard the dog's persistent yapping became more frantic, almost as if it could sense its owner's increasing sense of anxiety.
"I said … put ….. the gun …. down! And that's an order!" The visitor barked; his addition of a snarl suggesting that, right now, it was business he meant and nothing less.
This time, the creature's response was a sullen, self-enforced silence.
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Hearing his pet becoming only more and more agitated and sensibly deciding that from now on he might make more of an effort to hold on to his own revealing whimpers, the hostage contented himself by imagining that he'd so far been holding up quite well. He was already beginning to think of various methods by which he, himself, could disable the thing next to him then wriggle his way out of its hold.
Of course, imagining that somebody of his age might actually have the ability to do something like that would only ever have been pure wishful thinking on his part and besides, if he had managed to think of anything helpful he would then have had to make sure that he could make it happen without causing any damage to his windpipe; which, going by the fact that it was already close to being crushed, would have been nigh on impossible anyway.
Yep, maybe it was time to accept that not only was he too old now to do most things, but he was also going to be of no damned use when it came to defeating the wretched creature.
This final thought found him seriously considering his only other option, which would mean him putting what was left of his faith in that American fellow stood over on the other side of his living room. Unfortunately though, mostly with his own survival stakes in mind, he'd already deducted that the gutsy lad wasn't feeling quite as confident as he was making out. Yes, it was true, he was braced for battle like the bravest of soldiers, and, yes, he'd yelled the last of his commands quite convincingly. But even with his own, rapidly failing, eyesight coming into play the pensioner was completely convinced that he'd seen one momentary flash of doubt appear in those bright blue eyes; a show of fear that had been more than a match for his own, if he were honest.
And now that was leaving him with yet another problem. Because if 'he'd' managed to pick up on such a small show of weakness; with it having been staring intently at its enemy for the duration also, the creature would almost certainly have spotted it too.
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Curious, as he earned himself an encouraging smile from the elderly man, the visitor decided to ignore it for the time being and continued to concentrate wholly on hardening his stare, then bracing himself a little more solidly on the spot he set about traversing along another avenue of persuasion.
"Look." He told the alien firmly. "We both know that 'you' know how I work, Ban. Which means that you also know how this could end for you. So how about you do yourself this one big favour and go with me on this? You gotta trust me this time, my friend ….. 'cause what I'm tellin' you, right now, is that you really, really don't wanna be going down this route … ….. And neither do I for that matter." He thought to add with a soft laugh of realisation slipping out before he could stop it.
Quickly sobering his features he moved on to a more considerate form of persuasion. "Hey, how's about you just let the old guy go …. then we can go find someplace quiet to talk. Just me ….. and Foxbanu-Ban. Come ohhhhhn, Foxy …whady'a say? Have we got a deal?"
Obviously not rating his chances very highly, with his incredibly outdated Royal Air Force garb twisting around his legs, the self-assumed hero crossed one foot over the other, enabling him to take one cautious step to the side and thereby alter his angle of attack.
Disappointing both men, the thing remained stubbornly silent. But in revealing more than it might have liked, its clammy upper body began to wash from one pastel shade to another. The original hue of sky blue slipped into one of pale green then with it morphing, finally, into a shimmering silvery grey; with the standoff still firmly set in place, it seemed that the thing's fascinating show of colours was going to repeat for as long as it remained agitated.
"Talk?" Cutting through the air with an angry snap and making the human contingent in the room jump out of their skin; as the alien spoke its tone was hostile. "You don't want to talk." It continued harshly. "Oh, no, no, no. Because you see, Captain ….. your Foxy here? He is thinking that we both know what it is that you really want."
As a broken cackle sounded from deep within its throat, the alien gave an involuntary twitch and once more the crook of its bony arm tightened around the throat of its captive.
This time, bravery combined with an age related dignity saw the pensioner refuse to acknowledge the change in his circumstances, and looking away from the creature to focus, once again, on this Captain fellow he found himself hoping that the strangely attired young foreigner might, indeed, become his knight in shining armour. "What does it want?" He heard his own voice ask quietly as a set of bright blue eyes locked on to his and held his stare. "I don't understand … why has it chosen me?"
The creature flinched and where there had originally been no sign of a nose, two tiny black holes appeared. As they dilated, a burst of amused air was forced out through them. "Oh, my word. Did you hear that, Jack? He doesn't know who you are. Oh, my, my. How very … ironic. How wonderfully, wonderfully …. ironic." It cackled, its thin excuse for a mouth forcing itself out to the sides before opening to vaguely resemble a toothless smile. "So tell me, Captain. I wonder. What should we do now, hmmm? I mean …. his highly amusing state of amnesia aside …. the old man still rattles Foxbanu-Ban's cage …. which means that he will only continue to be a problem for him."
"Foxy, hey, c'mohhhhhn, don't do th ….."
"You see, Captain …." The creature, interrupted, already laughing in its own strange way at the disapproving expression it had managed to draw from the human opposite. "Foxbanu-Ban is thinking that maybe he should put a bullet through the old man's brain just for fun anyway. What do you think?"
"NO!"
As the shout faded around them, despite the obvious amount of anger contained within it, the old man, once again, had been able to pick up on this so-called Captain's show of anxiety.
"Please, Fox, no …" As he let his shoulders drop, allowing his guard to fall also, the visitor did indeed seem to be struggling somewhat. Aiming his face up to the ceiling and then back down again, as a wave of emotion finally found the tiniest of cracks in his shining armour to squeeze through, his handsome features began to distort unattractively. "….. Don't hurt him, please. Look, I'll do anything. C'mon, Foxy, this is crazy. Please … just tell me what you want."
With the American chap now showing blatant signs of distress, strangely, the hostage found his own fear taking a back seat. There was nothing brave about it; he knew that rather than bravado prompting him, this was more a case of him experiencing an overwhelming and inexplicable need to go over and defend the young man. How was that logical? The difference in age and stature alone was already rendering the idea a ridiculous one … But still, he couldn't shift the sensation. And the way this 'Captain' was looking over at him right now ….. as if there were already a connection between them? It was so confusing. It was making him feel so incredibly sad. Those pained eyes were imploring him to do something, but he had no idea what it was. Why was he suddenly feeling so protective of a complete stranger? Why did he feel so drawn to that face? And why had that damned accent of his started to send shivers down his spine?
An abrupt response from the alien quickly reclaimed his attention.
"Foxbanu-Ban wants you, Jack. But then you already know that, don't you?" It was saying.
Accepting that the soft noise of exasperation coming from the man opposite was all it was destined to receive, the alien's head inclined in an almost melancholic manner. "Foxbanu-Ban wants you to return his feelings, Jack ….." It said with that same strange smile from earlier making another appearance. "And if you want this old man, here, to live, then you must promise your Foxy that, from now on, there will be only him your life."
Weapon still aimed directly at the alien's head, but with his stance beginning to soften again, the young Captain teased the alien with what, to the pensioner, appeared to be a forced smile. "Hey, look, if that's what you really want ….." He told it softly. "Then, yeah, okay, you got it. Now just let the gentleman join me over here on this side of the room …. and then, like I said, we can go someplace else and just sift our way out of this whole stupid mess.
"Ohhhhhhh, Jack ….." Looking sad, the creature sent a long black tongue flicking out towards its captive to leave a shiny wet line clinging to one cheek. "You are full of words ….. and as usual, they mean nothing at all."
As the elderly gent started to tremble in its hold, the creature leaned forward to sniff noisily at him, and having drawn in enough of his human scent to confirm what it already knew, it pressed its clammy forehead onto one sweat covered temple. "Foxbanu-Ban hates you, old man. He hates you with every cell in his body. He loathes you; he always has. And now …." It pulled back with a tight, yet intensely satisfied grin on show. "….. Foxbanu-Ban is going to kill you …"
"Then I guess I'm just gonna have to take you out first." As he took aim, there was no trace of malice in the Captain's words, only a deep sense of regret.
"Would you kill me, though? Could you really kill me, Jack?" The alien asked putting its head to one side again, almost child-like.
The reply was instant. "In a blink."
The damning words drawing a whimper from it, the creature started to become agitated; shimmering again from one colour through to the next. "But your Foxy does not wish to die." It whined, a sense of desperation sounding through as it spoke. "Please, Jack, Foxbanu-Ban is happy here with you; all he has ever wanted is to be with you ….."
Broad, woollen covered shoulders sagged with despair. "But you are with me, goddammit! How can you not see that? We've had the best part of thirty years together …. and they haven't been all bad …. so why should I want to change things now?"
"Fox thinks we both know why, Jack …" The creature told him; a new chill sounding in its voice as its slitted eyes began to slide to the left.
And with those icy words, the fate of the old man was sealed.
Pushing the barrel of an antiquated revolver hard onto the pensioner's temple, the alien stared across the room imploringly. "Fox is sorry, Jack …. but he cannot let this human have you. You are mine! " It wailed, unbelievably managing to sound more alien than ever. "You belong to Foxbanu-Ban….. And this one has to go."
"Then, so do you, my friend." The Captain was already closing the distance, step by slow and careful step. "I really don't want things to end like this, Fox, but I swear …. I mean it …. if you harm just one …."
His voice finally breaking, the younger man paused to glance sadly at the elderly gentleman, then with a new level of anger creeping in he stared at the alien. "Okay, no more of your games, Fox; I'm serious ….. You hurt him …" Fury steadily rising, his voice was beginning to shake. "….. Then, trust me .…. I really will blow your brains into the next fucking century. Understood?"
"And if Fox decides to let the old man go?"
"Then you win." The reply was delivered immediately, with a matter of fact shrug. "We both go straight back home and pretend this never happened. We were never here … Okay?"
"And you will now say those special words to Fox?"
Outside, the rain was still lashing noisily against the front window. Out in the back yard the dog was forever present with its raucous yapping. But inside, with the Captain seemingly unaware of how long, or of just how longingly he'd been staring at the elderly gentleman opposite, there was nothing but a telling silence in the air.
Finally he spoke.
"Yes ….okay, I'll say them." He said quietly, his eyes still focussed on the pensioner. "But only once we're alone." He insisted, looking back to the alien with a reassuring smile forming.
Withdrawing its bony limb from around the hostage's throat then spreading its lips into a more relieved smile, there was nothing but adoration showing on the creature's face. Without any further hesitation it dropped its weapon to the floor and stood there defenceless, displaying a total sense of trust for the human opposite.
In return the Captain's smile became strangely rueful, and after allowing the creature a whispered, "I really did love you, Foxy." … he sent a beam of light searing straight through the centre of its forehead.
And as Foxbanu-Ban's brain began to melt within the confines of his skull, he stared back at his love through already dull and lifeless eyes.
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Watching the creature crumple to the ground, the old man stared down, eyes widening; lips parting with astonishment.
"Are you okay?" Weapon holstered, the Captain was already closing the gap.
Still waiting for the sense of relief to hit home; more attuned to the fact that his heart had started to pound much more noticeably, the hostage was vaguely aware that one large hand was now grasping firmly onto his left arm and that another was closing around his right. He knew he should be thanking the young man, should be acknowledging the fact that he'd just been rescued, but all he felt able to do was stare down at the body on his living room floor.
"Sir? Hey, are you okay? You're safe now. Sir? Are you okay?"
As they were repeated for a second time, the words finally registered.
"Yes … Yes. A bit shaken ….. but, yes, I'm fine thank you, son …." the pensioner replied, his nod coming as an afterthought; his mind still distracted by the dead alien and the mild constricting feeling within his chest.
Looking down again, "Oh, thank god." he heard the Captain gush dramatically onto the top of his head; sounding noticeably more relieved than would normally have been the case between two complete strangers.
It was then that the atmosphere changed and within the space of a second the young man had dropped dramatically to his knees. The saved hostage watched on curiously as the man responsible for his continued survival leaned over to find the demised creature's thin lips then kissed them with a surprising gentleness before pulling back to whisper, "I am so, so sorry, my friend."
Feeling strangely remorseful for a crime that he, himself, hadn't actually committed, "Is this how you treat all of your friends, Captain?" he heard himself ask, watching the real cold hearted assassin of the moment rise to his feet.
Taking in his surprised expression, it was instantly obvious to the elderly gent that this so called 'Captain' had been thrown by his words but, nevertheless, a hand was still being extended in his direction.
Reluctantly accepting the young airman's offer of a shake, he found his deep-seated sense of decency making another unforced show. "That was nothing but cold bloodied murder, young man," he frowned. "That creature had surrendered its weapon and was no longer a threat to either of us, so why would you behave so cruelly? And whatever that thing was," he added, thinking to soften his tone. " ….. I have to say; it's affection for yourself was patently clear."
With the truth of those particular words seeming to wound him more than the last, the hero of the hour looked taken aback by the show of directness. "I'm sorry things seem that way to you," he said with a slow shake of his head. "But I'm afraid I just couldn't trust this particular friend anymore. If he'd walked out of here with me today he would only have come back another time to finish the job, I'm certain of that." He explained, anxious for the old man to understand his motives. "And I'm sorry, but there is no way on this Earth that I'm going to let that happen."
"Well, in that case I shall do what I should have done to start with." Nodded the pensioner; shaking the hand still clasping just a little too firmly onto his own. "Which is to thank you for coming to my assistance, tonight."
His own sense of apprehension clearly fading also, the Captain shook back gratefully and allowed his dashing smile to make a show,"Capn' Jack Harkness, at your service, Sir." he declared, dipping politely as a delighted twinkle made a show in both of those bright blue eyes.
The less than formal introduction and surprising addition of a small bow was accepted with a tentative nod. "Well, again, thank you for your assistance, Captain Harkness."
Held by his stare, the older man was trying to ignore his inner prompt that was insisting he should be doing so much more than just return the handsome young man's smile. "I'm Jones …" he finally got around to announcing in a distinctive Welsh accent. "…. Geraint Jones."
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tbc.
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A/N :
And that last line hasn't fooled any of you ….. has it! ( grins ).