Hidden behind innumerable books which formed gigantic piles the Doctor was reading in the Tardis' library.
He'd crouched into a chair and seemed to be covered in books as well, several were resting in his lap, or falling from his knees when he turned pages and shifted position.
Actually it wasn't even a chair he was currently sitting on.
The seat consisted of books as well, but due to the fact that they weren't of interest to him he had covered them with a cloth and completely forgotten about them.
Although he had to admit that the chair didn't feel that comfortable.
The Doctor sighed while tossing a book aside and pulling out a different one from a stack, which collapsed instantly.
His eyes scanned the books; he turned the pages so fast that some of them ended up in his hands, ripped out before simply descending to the already page-covered floor.
The Doctor didn't even know what he was looking for.
He had forgotten as soon as he had realized what a mess his library had become since he'd stopped caring for it. He'd spent too much time with humans lately.
Or Jack.
He tossed another book aside.
Books, in the form of torn bits and loose sheets, were usually scattered around the room never to be recomposed ever again;
except for a few rare scripts, like the book of Dr. Neakahla (probably the last copy not stuck on Gallifrey right now) and some extraordinary physicochemical documents as well the library had filled with the typical 'I'll definitely take a look at it as soon as I find the time' light reading.
The Doctor's mind was currently stuck in a solar system which was fortunate to have six suns of different sizes and complexity; otherwise it probably wouldn't have ended up in a book like that.
The lights above him flickered.
His eyes focused on the ground where he'd see himself struggling with the stranger again, fighting a superior opponent and losing; feeling the stranger maculating him once more, taking him by force, hard, ruthlessly, forcing himself into his delicate body, pushing him brutally while throttling his screams...
The Doctor flinched.
He rubbed his eyes and breathed out unnerved.
Those memories just wouldn't stop flowing back and racing through his mind. The same sequence rewound over and over again.
He had tried everything. He'd tried anger, he'd tried grief, he'd tried denial, he'd simply tried forgetting about it all...
But the memories wouldn't stop. Over and over again, the same thing over and over again.
He'd been defenceless, there was no denying that.
He hadn't been able to protect himself.
And he had found himself tossing strange thoughts around in his head.
If only Jack had been there...
The Doctor pushed the books from his lap. He had to stop thinking about it. He just had to! He couldn't change it anyway.
He had to give up looking for an explanation.
There was no reason.
Those were things that simply happened without a reason.
To the weak, added a low voice in his head.
He snorted and ran his fingers through his hair. He had to stop himself from recalling it over and over again. There was no sense in becoming paranoid.
He just had to quit thinking; that was all.
The Doctor pulled a book from a pile and watched its desintegration with fascination.
He had to forget about it.
Life goes on. Although life wasn't too short for him to think about the bad things all the time, it had to stop nonetheless.
He had to get on with it, to read on and rearrange the library a bit.
Although he had a strange feeling that the library resembled his mind in too many ways...
Much to his surprise the Doctor found the remaining book in his lap to be a cookbook. He hadn't even known that those things existed in his library as well. He didn't care much for useless books. You couldn't read a cookbook, for a start. Not properly. It was not even a real book after all. And he couldn't cook.
Well, he was a Time Lord; he'd succeed on those primitive customs as well, he assumed. But he had never felt the NEED for cooking before.
He'd probably never craved anything before.
He dug his nails into his thighs.
Apart from Jack...
"Oh deary me, no..." The Doctor sighed.
It was totally normal; welll, probably.
It had got to have something to do with the hormones, or pheromones or those other bloody things which humans had as well. The Doctor figured that Jack must have transmitted them; like you passed on a cold... or something like that, anyway.
Why did he keep thinking about Captain Jack Harkness?
What was so special about him?
He sighed. He never minced matters. Or made bones about it. Or boners.
He chuckled.
Blimey, Jack rubbed off on him. And no, that wasn't ambiguous. Alright, perhaps a tiny bit.
The Doctor shrugged and stood up. He'd never succeed in rearranging the library.
He'd rather learn how to cook...
He scuffled back to the controls of the Tardis and pocketed the cell phone.
Before leaving he checked on the door again.
It was locked. No one could enter without him noticing.
The Doctor took a look around in the Tardis. He had never felt the urge to cook before – he didn't even know if there was a kitchen in the Tardis.
But nearly everything was to be found in the Tardis, so...
After exploring floors he hadn't visited in years he had actually found what he had been looking for. Of course there was a kitchen in the Tardis.
The Doctor grinned while entering it but placed the book on the stove and left the room immediately.
What's wrong with me? , he asked himself.
Why am I even doing this? I should be off, looking for new companions or adventures... instead I'm sitting in here and waiting and I don't even know what I'm waiting for.
I feel like an idiot.
The Doctor sighed.
The cell phone rang. Although he had put it in his pocket a few moments earlier he nearly jumped when it vibrated. He picked it up.
"Hello there, Doctor, I came to notice that you're still parking around here."
Jack's voice. Jack's soothing, wonderful and comforting voice. The Doctor felt his hearts racing.
"I have?" he asked lost in thought.
"Well, actually I'm just calling because... you know, well, I've always wanted to call someone at home from work, although I'd always imagined I'd use names like "Honey" or "Darling" or..."
"I am in my Tardis" replied the Doctor bluntly, "I gave you a key to it. And it's a spaceship, not a bloody home."
"But you've got nothing else, have you?" Jack objected.
"And that's why you were calling?" snapped the Doctor, "To tease me?"
"I'm always teasing you" replied Jack "And I couldn't think of anything else."
"Couldn't think of anything apart from what?" asked the Doctor, shifting from one foot to the other uneasily.
"Anything else apart from returning to the Tardis and giving you a good spanking because you'd damn well deserve it" groaned Jack.
The Doctor felt the blood rushing down into his pelvic area.
"Stop it Jack" he replied and closed his eyes in order to repress the urge to let his fingers slide down and reach for his crotch "Please, just stop it."
"Oh, you think you're so clever, my dear Time Lord" chuckled Jack on the phone "You think you're the only one who can see and feel what others are thinking. You think you're the only one who notices all that interpersonal stuff. But let me tell you something: I can hear how your pants are tightening, even here at Torchwood."
The Doctor gasped.
"I hope for your sake that no one's listening right now" hissed the Doctor.
"I can assure you that I'm all alone" replied Jack, "and I really think you should get a headset, too."
The Doctor concentrated on not getting a hard on right now. "And why do you think that, Jack?"
"Because then you'd have both hands to touch yourself like I have right now."
The Doctor shivered. He hated to hear him talking like that. He got really... uneasy. It made him feel sweaty and...dirty.
But not in a good way.
It felt like something he should be ashamed of. As if it just shouldn't be done; at least not by him.
"So..." Jack groaned and breathed noisily "Would you mind if I'd make an appointment with you, Doctor? Do you have time for me? Or... could you just squeeze me in?" Jack chuckled again; the Doctor felt his hot fingers stroking his privates through the fabric of his pants.
"Just drop in for a second" mumbled the Doctor and pulled his fingers away.
"Oh, I'd really hoped you'd last longer than that" moaned Jack, "but don't worry I'll liven you up."
"See you later..." the Doctor was about to hang up as his glance settled on the book which was still on the stove.
"Jack, wait" added the Doctor hurriedly "could you please bring me something?"
"Okay..."
"Could you buy some milk for me?" he asked "And could you get me some eggs?" The Doctor closed his eyes.
He KNEW that Jack was going to make a salacious remark, or even more than one and only hoped that he wouldn't blush.
"Okay" was the only answer the Doctor received "'s that all?"
"Yeah, thank you" replied the Doctor irritated "and thank you in advance, Jack. See you."
He hung up and breathed in deeply.
He didn't even know what it was that made him shiver all over. Something about Jack made him feel... uneasy.
But still he shivered all over if he thought about him.
Jack.
His Jack.
