AUTHOR: NNWest
DISCLAIMER: None of them are mine...but their universe is a lot of fun.
AN: Thanks for reading, the comments have been great! This is going to be the last part to this fic (probably). For some reason it wanted to stay within the televised cannon (with a few chaste kisses thrown in). Gotta thank my beta Gillian Taylor(darkaegis).
He was waking, but had yet to open his eyes. Idly he took stock of his situation. He was in a bed and his head didn't hurt, both positive signs. Though, he couldn't feel another body near to his or hear anything in the room that would indicate he was anything but alone. "A definite negative there," he mused. Jack turned his consideration to what had happened the night before.
His mind ticked over and he remembered sharing a drink with the Doctor. The Doctor! His eyes flew open as the words from last night filtered through his brain. "I wouldn't say you were nowhere." That's what the Doctor had said. He also remembered ruefully the way his mind had seized up when the Doctor had said that.
Inwardly, Jack cringed. He had found himself laid to waste by an off-hand comment by a man he had thought only tolerated him. He prided himself on never getting caught out like that. A quick mind and a silver tongue were gifts that had served him well during his career as a Time Agent, but had served him better during his follow-up profession conning his former employer. He couldn't believe how easily his equilibrium had been disrupted by one short sentence.
Now wide awake, he stared sightlessly at the ceiling and the tumult of his thoughts returned to consider the words again. Not 'nowhere', meaning he was 'somewhere'? But what did that mean--more than tolerance certainly, but more than friendship?
The previous night the Doctor had led him to the kitchen after he'd casually dropped that bombshell of a statement. He'd produced a dark glass bottle from a cupboard, poured two fingers of the stuff into a glass, and handed it to Jack with a stern warning to 'go easy'. Jack had laughed off the advice, sure his tolerance was high enough to handle anything the Doctor could throw at him. The second swallow of the amber liquor assured him he was wrong as it kicked him in the head the way his third hypervodka usually did. When he had inquired as to the drink's origin, the Doctor had quietly told him he needn't worry about it, that the source was long gone. Jack grieved to see the infinite sadness settle into the Doctor's eyes at the question and instantly wished he hadn't spoken at all.
From there the conversation had turned to the mundane, centring on maintenance the Doctor wanted to perform on the TARDIS and their inevitable need to refuel. And much as Jack yearned for another clue, some further clarification, from the other man about just where 'somewhere' was, the answer never came.
After nursing his way through the remainder of his glass' contents, he had felt the need for sleep tug resolutely at him and had in turn reluctantly bid the Time Lord a good night. He'd gone to his room, the alcohol--if it was alcohol--muting the churn of his thoughts enough that he had fallen straight into bed and into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Jack thrust himself out of bed, needing to escape the renewed clamor in his head. Padding to the bath, he stared hard at himself in the mirror. He was sure there was a time not so very long ago that he would not have questioned his own motives in this way. It was not until he met Rose, met the Doctor, had the idea been rekindled that someone he took to bed could be more than just a pretty pastime.
He knew he wanted them in 1941 London. Jack had decided there, separately or together, he would have this beautiful pair. Unbidden, love had followed too quickly on the heels of lust and he tried to ignore it. He'd examined the feeling and attempted to push it away, to dismiss it and lock it away someplace safe. In his experience, that path only led to pain and he'd had quite enough of that. Time and again it arose and he desperately tried to maintain his distance; he fought not to get attached to this angel of light and her dark lord, clinging to what he knew: the hunt, the chase, the release. He fought, and failed. How many of the intervening encounters had it been his fantasy of Rose that was under him, the Doctor inside him? How many times had he returned to them, physically sated, but emotionally starved?
When the Doctor had finally asked him what existed between himself and Rose, the most Jack had been hoping for was to allay the Doctor's fears that he was trying to steal Rose from him. He had been all too aware of the Time Lord's jealous protectiveness of Rose and the way it had been aimed squarely at him for the last several days. True, he had wanted to divert the other man's animosity and scrutiny away from himself, but he knew also that he truly wanted the Doctor and Rose to be happy. If that meant he had to put aside his own feelings, he'd make the sacrifice willingly. Jack smiled ruefully to his reflection and tried to remember when he had become a noble person.
He washed and dressed and headed for the kitchen where he found a pyjama-clad Rose. Walking past, he couldn't resist putting a hand out and ruffling her sleep-mussed blonde hair. At his touch, she smiled up at him through her toast. "Morning," she mumbled around her mouthful.
Jack just laughed and scrounged in the cupboard for a mug. "Quite the coup you pulled off last night," he said conversationally as he poured coffee into the mug.
"Whadya mean?" Her tone indicated she knew exactly what he was talking about but was going to make him spell it out.
"You didn't stick around to see his reaction to your 'Good night'."
Rose blushed slightly, but the glint in her eyes told him she was dying to know more. He took a sip from his mug, teasing her with his silence, before moving to respond to her unspoken demand. He crossed quickly to the doorway and cast a glance into the corridor to ensure the Doctor's arrival was not imminent and scurried back to the table. Finally, Jack pulled up a chair to huddle conspiratorially close to Rose.
"It was perfect," he said, his voice low, his eyes aglow with excitement. Rose was momentarily reminded of the way she used to gossip about boys with Shareen.
"What did he say?" Her own excitement sparked.
"He didn't say anything, but I'm going to remember that look on his face for the rest of my life. That man is completely in love with you."
As if summoned by the hushed conversation about him, the Doctor strode into the kitchen. He caught sight of Jack and Rose in their plotting posture and he raised an eyebrow at them. "That's never a good sign this early in the day. Talking about me?"
His companions parted, Rose guiltily, Jack with a mischievous grin. "I was just telling her that her next move should be to pin you against a wall and ply you with a much more involved kiss. That is, before she strips you and has her wicked way."
Rose blushed furiously at Jack's recommendation and the Doctor laughed. "Sounds like a page from your book, Jack. Giving lessons, are we?" he said as he came to stand behind Rose and place a hand on her shoulder as he did most mornings. This morning, however, he allowed his hand to slide across her neck, gently lifting her chin so her head was tipped back. Smiling down at her, he bent and returned her previous night's kiss as a "Good morning" before grabbing a chair and twisting it around to straddle it.
"Hey, do I get one of those too?"
"What did I say?" He grinned across at Jack. "Drink first," he said, stealing the last piece of toast off Rose's plate.
At the Doctor's move, the blissful expression she had been regarding him with slipped away. "Hey, you think just 'cause you kiss a girl you can nick her breakfast," Rose told him, feigning affront.
Jack smiled, partly because he'd been contemplating the same act before the Doctor arrived. Partly because he knew Rose always made more than she would ever eat in anticipation of the event. Apparently, she'd learned early on that with the Doctor--and now Jack--in her life, she'd starve if she didn't.
"Nope," the Doctor was saying teasingly. "I expected that 'cause I kissed the girl, she wouldn't argue for once."
"Too cute," Jack opined to no one in particular. "So, what's on the agenda for today?"
"Thinking we might go to Japan sometime. Heard Kyoto is nice." Rose crinkled her nose slightly at the Doctor's destination selection.
"Aw, come on. Could be interesting," Jack commented. When Rose shot him a questioning look as to why he thought so, he gave her one word, "Geisha." She laughed and rolled her eyes.
The Doctor shrugged at her indifference. "Doesn't have to be today. Think about it. There is something I'd like to check out in Paris."
"Always a good choice." Jack's gaze turned distant for a moment. "Lots of things to check out in Paris."
"Among other things..." He looked pointedly at Jack. "There's a time rift. The TARDIS' original power generation method is no longer an option." Both his companions noticed a small amount of sadness creep into his expression before he continued. "As I told Jack last night, before too long we're going to have to refuel, as it were. Fill up the power cells."
"There's the rift in Cardiff, too." Now there was pain in her eyes as well and Jack wondered about that story. The Doctor reached out and took her hand.
"True enough." The Doctor gave her a faint smile. "But considering the refuel may well take a few days, I ask you, which city would you prefer?"
In the end, the answer had been Paris. A quick scan proved the rift nonviable for their purposes; it seemed they would be going to Cardiff after all. But, the trio had made the best of the day in the city, seeing the sights and eating the food.
Saying it was the only way to experience the city, the Doctor had turned off the TARDIS translator and left his companions to struggle with the language, much to everyone's, especially Rose and Jack's, amusement. And while the Doctor hadn't been kissed by any complete strangers--his fingers securely entwined with Rose's had probably scared off any who would dare, Jack mused--Jack had collected one or two before the day was out.
Moonlight sparkled on the water of the Seine as they strolled along the walkway. The path they tread was deserted apart from a few young lovers, the three of them locked together no less tightly than the couples they encountered. When they had left the tiny cafe, Rose had flung her arm around the Doctor's waist and pulled him close, his arm settling warmly around her shoulders. A short distance later when Jack had strayed near, she had laughingly snared him with her other arm. His arm around her, his hand fell at her hip; emboldened by the fine house red they'd shared with dinner, Jack hooked a finger through the Doctor's belt loop. The move had earned him a beleaguered look, but there had been amusement glittering in the Doctor's eyes and, more promising, no move made to deter him.
Rose sighed contently as if she had not a care in the world. She let her eyes flutter closed, letting her escorts carry her forward. "My boys."
"Our girl," Jack confirmed softly.
She opened her eyes and smiled sweetly up at him. "I like that."
"I do too." Impulsively, he dipped his head to catch her lips with his. Her smile widened and she rested her head against his arm as she squeezed his waist. Jack looked across to the Doctor, relieved to see only affection in the Time Lord's satisfied smile. He grinned, he could do nothing else.
The Doctor regarded his companions: Rose warm at his side as she snuggled between himself and Jack, Jack grinning wildly, happy in the moment; his skin still slightly flushed from the wine. All of them together, this was right. He found himself to be as content as Rose and Jack appeared to be. He was even pleasantly surprised that he felt only a certain fondness for the pair when Jack had kissed Rose.
They strolled on in easy silence, each basking in the loving company of the others and letting the path lead them back to the TARDIS, letting it lead them home.