Jack stared at the disgarded red stiletto that lay on the floor and smiled to himself. Silly girl, she'd been in such a hurry she'd left her shoe... just the one. Funny. He'd leave it at the desk when he checked out, that was the gentlemanly thing to do, and he was a gentleman, deep down. It had been quite a night. She'd been quite... acomodating. BIG SMILE. He lay back on the soft bed and stared up at the ceiling. Funny how time changes things, people. Even him. He hadn't always been this way. Not always. There had been a time, a very long long time ago, when he'd been very different indeed. But then SHE had changed him. Or... he'd changed himself, 'because' of her That was probably closer to the truth. It was how he like to remember it anyway.
He gave a heavy sigh, and shifted on the bed, relaxing, his eyes closing, dreaming of a different time. A past, not a present. Not that this time wasn't... fantastic. He smiled to himself, oh how he had come to LOVE that insane little word. No, this time was probably going to turn out to be a fantastic chapter in his autobiography... if he ever got around to writing it. He'd change the names of course. Public figures had a habit of getting upset when their dirty linen was aired in public. He smiled again... there had been a particular movie star in the 1970's... well, better leave it for the book he thought. Another smile.
He pulled away from the memory, and returned to his day dream. Nadia. He remembered her face as if it was yesterday. Which it most certainly had not been. Far from it. He'd only been seventeen. How old was he now? It was difficult to keep track. A long way off 900, thats for sure. At least he still had his looks. His body was in pretty good shape too. Smile. Hell, who was he kidding? His body was in fantastic shape. He really was a different person to that 17 year old kid who'd had his heart - pulverised by Nadia Kidman. He shivered. Even her name gave him goosebumps. No smile this time. Just the memory to keep him cold.
Nadia Jane Annabeth Kidman. Now there's a name. He had learnt it off by heart back in the bad old days. Recited it to himself like a mantra before falling to sleep at night. Hoping that maybe, just mabye... if he was real lucky, he'd dream of her. He had rarely been lucky.
She had been blonde and blue eyed and oh so beautiful, it stung even now that he'd never... well in his lucky dreams he had, but he doubted that counted. She'd also been vain and vicious and shallow and down right... nasty. But she'd still been the most popular girl in high school. If you buzzed around the flower long enough, you too were popular. Eventually. Popular by association if you like.
But not Jack. Jack had been off radar, as far as Nadia had been concerned. He'd just been a geek. The geek. Yes geek. He smiled a little. Oh if only they knew, he thought. Nadia Jane Annabeth Kidman this is your life... the boy you turned down for prom, the boy you laughed at on a daily basis, the boy you though wasn't good enough to lick you boots. Jack Harkness. The boy least likely.Yeah that would smart. Now.
Times change. People change. He had changed. For the better. That seventeen year old kid had been weak and nerdy and... and... He pulled away from the analysis. Putting the lid back on the box. Then putting something heavy on top of the lid... just in case. But it wouldn't stay put.
She'd had perfect teeth. That had been the first thing he'd noticed. Well okay, not the first thing. But they had been nice teeth. Very white. Sharp. He'd imagined her biting into his shoulder often enough, more often than not while he had been pretending to study. He'd imagined all sorts of nasty little things that she could do to him, and he'd do right back. He'd always had a wonderful imagination, lucky for him. But she never looked at him like that. She only had eyes for the jocks. Isn't that always how it works? Maybe there's a rule book somewhere. Hot chicks and jocks... or maybe that was just one of his favourite movies. Back then Jack had been sportsphobic. Even the thought of all those balls flying at his face would have brought him out in a rash. He laughed. Yeah... how times DO change.
She'd laughed at him once. Pointed and laughed. That had burned. Heads had turned, tongues had wagged. Jack sighed and turned over. He didn't want to remember that. Couldn't he just dwell on last night instead? Wouldn't his brain let him do that? No? No.
"You?" She'd said, loud enough for everyone to hear. "You don't have the right to talk to me... to ask me to go ANYWHERE with you." Then she'd leant in real close, so that he'd smelt her perfume. "I wouldn't be seen dead with you. You are A WORTHLESS NOTHING."
She'd laughed. They had all laughed. Except him. He'd just ran. Frightened little mouse. The boy least likely. That had been who he had been then. It wasn't who he was now. No way. No sir. Not now.
She'd married a millionaire. Then another. Then a... well you get the picture. The girl done good. She had an expensive divorce lawyer. She came out of each marriage smelling of money. Goody bags overflowing. A diamond the size of a golf ball on her finger, a big house, a car, a private jet, a house in wherever the hell it was. What more could a girl want? Good question. Answers on a postcard please to (big breath)... Nadia Jane Annabeth Kidman Parker Jameson Donnelly. Now that's a NAME!
He rolled off the bed, stretched, washed and dressed. He looked at the time and frowned a little. Dosen't it fly when you're having fun? Oh well, it's not like the Doctor and Rose would leave without him - again. Still, shore leave was almost up. He knew he had to get back to the TARDIS sooner or later. But he'd had fun. Big fun.
Time to go. He pulled on his jacket and allowed himself one last admiring look in the mirror as he headed over to the door. But crossing the floor his foot kicked the lonely red stiletto. He stopped and looked at it. Then he picked it up and smiled. So he'd make sure his ladyfriend got it back, he was a nice guy after all.
He made his way down to the reception desk, the shoe in his hand, as natural as if it had been the daily paper. At the desk he set it down, and recieved a disaproving look from the older woman who stood there, all starched and stiff and sour. He turned on the charm. Touching her hand, smiling into her eyes.
"Could I leave this with you? My ladyfriend seems to have left without it."
She looked at the shoe. "She left with only one shoe?"
"She was in a hurry." He smiled again.
"Oh." She looked away for a second, checking the computer screen."Will you be checking out today, Sir?"
"Unfortunately, yes." He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a bundle of notes, dropping them on the counter. "That should take care of my bill." He smiled softly. "If there's anything left over... just buy yourself something pretty."
His words cut no ice with the woman behind the desk. She knew his type. They came through the doors everyday.
Jack reached across the counter, pulling a note card and pen toward him, ignoring the disaproving gaze. Can't win em all. He wrote something across the card then pushed it back across the counter, touching her hand one last time.
"Make sure she gets this will you?" Then he turned and walked out of the hotel, and into the sunshine of a bright day.
The starched, stiff, sour woman looked at the note. It made little sense. But she recognised the name. SHE was just the type. She made a disaproving snort. Just the type. Then she picked up the note and pushed it into the shoe, putting it behind the desk. Her eyes flickered over the note one last time.
Mrs Nadia Jane Annabeth Kidman Parker Jameson Donnelly - you were FANTASTIC. - The boy least likely X
THE END