okay.. for some reason it's loading my stuff in italics to-day.... don't ask.

Chapter four

The Doctor reached around his lover's arm for the miniature pot of jam; breakfast in bed had been ever such a nice idea. So glad he'd thought of it.

"You feeling okay?" Jack said, rubbing the Time Lord's ankles, "You had me worried yesterday. Don't do that again, or I may have to break out the handcuffs just to make sure you get some rest."

The Time Lord mock scowled.

"Oh really? Rest? Is that why you brought them? Funny, I was under the impression they were some kind of bondage toy; a plaything which, I assure you Jack Harkness, will not touch my flesh any time soon. I am a Time Lord, not one of those disturbed backstreet poorbodies who think they like dark rooms and leather whips."

"I was."

"Figures. The answer's still no, especially now."

With that, the old alien turned a disapproving scowl on his Time Agent, then returned to fixating on the jam, a blend of winter berries and spices.

"My but this is really good jam… never had jam with spices in it before… hrm."

"Those aren't, ah, dried Kaiutrope leaves in that, right Doctor?" Jack's face had suddenly turned white as he looked at the man in his bed.

"What is it Jack? Spit it out man! I'm pregnant, not deaf!"

Those long clever Time Agency-honed fingers just clenched around his hand, which was clenched around the jam pot, and one by careful one they curled, squeezing in between his flesh and the jar.

"You might not be for very much longer, if this is what I think it is."

The Doctor stiffened in his nest of untied blue and gold kimono, his eyes tight as his own long fingers dug into his stomach. Then he sniffed at the jam and carefully let out a long, slow breath.

"Hahahaha! Oh my but that was close. And strangely, rather amusing. I really had you going there."

Jack stared at him, confused.

"What? You knew what was in it and you ate it anyway? Are you insane? What about the baby?"

But the Time Lord just waved at him and glared right back, seemingly oblivious to the concern that was threatening to overtake Jack's face.

"Oh lord, Jack! Think think think! Why would I poison myself? In my condition?"

Jack narrowed his eyes at him, a thousand anxious, unwholesome thoughts drowning the Time Agent's previous mood.

"To kill the baby, of course."

At that, the Doctor turned grey and swayed as if from shock. Then he shook it off, and that old familiar rage retook its throne.

"Jack Harkness, if you don't explain this nonsense, -right now-, I will leave you here to deal with those two idiot Trinomians!"

"Damn you–are- pregnant. You actually used idiot as a noun."

"Don't forget Mister Smith, my hapless orangutan. And… as a noun? Where oh where did you learn English? From that demonic Lauren Cooper child?"

Jack was unphased.

"From Casanova. And speaking of Mister Smith, are you referring to that stuffy Zylock in Sarah Jane's attic or that half-green Kid Century you shoved off on me? He's great with our new systems, by the way."

The Time Lord huffed loudly, reminding Jack of a donkey bored of its labours.

"Honestly, Jack, what's gotten into you this morning? Do you want another shag or something? Just let me finish my jam first. I've got the oddest craving for this stuff…"

Normally Jack would have laughed; this morning, however, he found himself staring at the Time Lord, who was strangely fixated on the equally strange jar of jam in his pristine fingers.

Funny how the alien's long, beautiful Snow Queen hands were normally sticky after he so much as glanced at marmalade…

But they weren't now. Oh no. Today, this morning, they were free of the remotest possibility of sugary preserves.

"Yeah, pregnancy'll do that to you," Jack murmured, fixing blue sparkly eyes on the man in his bed.

The last thing he wanted to do was give himself away, because, well…

Let's just say the man in his bed was not the man he'd loved and made love with the night before.

The Time Agent stuck out a thumb, gesturing to the door of their motel room. There was a small heater near the wall, and pale blue and green stripe curtains, same as before. He forced down a shiver.

"I'm gonna go for a walk, okay? Should be back around, oh, about an hour from now. So, don't get into any trouble, sweetheart. I'll have my phone, too, so call me if you feel anything that worries you, like kicking or parasites or bad vibes or something."

Silently Jack watched the form of his lover as he moved toward the door.

The Time Lord never stopped to look at him as he messed with his jam, not once. It reminded Jack, rather eerily so, of a scene in LOTR where the Steward of Gondor sat eating grapes and drooling like a raver while the world around him crumbled. Just like that scene… the alien was sitting there propped in their shared bed, eyes staring at the television –which was on-, just… eating that strange dark red jam without a care in the world. It made Jack want to vomit.

So he took a slow, direct, easy breath, forcing himself to relax so whoever it was in the bed wouldn't notice his unease.

Finally reaching the door after what seemed like a millennia, he touched the handle, and to his relief it turned in his hand. He stepped out into the sunlight, the glare obscuring his vision, and took his first step onto the pavement.

But his foot scrunched on tiny pebbles, tiny, shaped pebbles of dismal cold white that looked nothing like the outside of the motel.

Sucking in his breath felt like swallowing a needle, but he forced himself to look up at the true source of the light. And he was right. It wasn't the sun that was glaring down at him, but a tall white statue of curves and ample flesh, a perfect white humanoid woman carved in some kind of alabaster or something… he wasn't quite sure what particular type of material, actually; but it obviously bore an unsettling underglow of malice.

Blinking fast, he tried to take a step back but found that there was a wall behind him, blocking his way back to wherever he'd thought they both were the night before.

Then he turned around, right into the face of the statue.

When he saw the wings, two horrible bright wings of dead white poking from the statue's back, he screamed in recognition as the light poured down and interrupted him.