Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy, Doctor Who, or Torchwood, or Robert Frost's poem Stopping By Woods on A Snowy Eve.
A/N: This was literally the first chapter I wrote…I thought about it, and wouldn't season one be a bit different if Buffy and Jack knew each other…these are some of the scenes (one from each eppy) that popped into my head.
A pretty brunette walked through the hub door and up to the platform, hesitation in every step. Her name, Gwen surfaced slowly.
"There's you pizza, I think I better go," she was indeed carrying a pizza.
Jack glanced up from his paperwork, face blank, "I think we've gone past that stage."
An almost snort of laughter came from a curly haired woman, Suzie, "You must have been freezing out there, how long were you walking round, three hours?"
Gwen swallowed, her nerves humming and eyes bugged out, "You could see me."
Suzie made another noncommittal noise before turning away.
Jack stood at last and walked around the desk to stand hands on hips, "And before we go any further, who the hell orders pizza under the name 'Torchwood'."
Owen, the skin and bones doctor blushed and raised his hand timidly, "Erm… yeah, that would be me. Sorry. I'm twat."
Jack rolled his eyes and sighed deeply, "Zeppo much?"
Everyone in the room gazed blankly at the Captain.
A pout spread across Jack's lips, "I miss people who get my pop culture."
The Torchwood Team was gathered around a grainy television monitor watching a tape play. A videotape of a lavatory couple—coupling.
"Wow," Jack's eyes widened as he cocked his head to the side.
Toshiko swallowed harshly, "Oh, my God! He just…"
Jack bit back his smirk, "Came and went," he deadpanned.
Owen snickered behind a raised hand, "That's the way I'd like to go.
The man on screen had burst into sparkling dust, the girl was perfectly fine.
Tosh glared back at him, "I'm sure we could arrange it."
Gwen slipped into the tiny office looking a bit off just in time to hear Jack sigh.
"What is it with creatures and the death and sex trick—overgrown praying mantises."
Gwen walked into the underground shooting range, "Jack?"
Jack set down the gun he had been handling on the table and spun to face his newest recruit. Jack beckoned her forward, and Gwen walked to the table to join him.
The range at last truly visible to her, Gwen's breath hitched, "Whoa."
Jack smiled and tipped his head at the weapons displayed for her use. Her eyes were glossy round.
"You need to know how to use these. Though I hope you never have to," Jack intoned.
Gwen looked uncertainly at him, "So, do I...?"
In the silence she laughed and averted her eyes to the floor.
"I'm sorry, it's just…I don't even kill spiders in the bath."
Jack rolled his eyes, "Nor do I, not with a gun."
They laugh for a moment, the tension broken before Jack looked thoughtfully at the glock inches from his hand.
"…except for this one time my roommate freaked out and rightly, it was three feet wide. After that one we made a deal, I taught her how to shoot them and I cleaned up after."
Jack looked at the young boy with what could have been pity, "Ianto, you have to believe me. There is no cure. There never will be. Those who are converted stay that way. Your girlfriend will not be the exception."
Tears leaked from the corners of Ianto's eyes, "You can't know that for sure."
Jack shook his head, patience nearing its end, "Look, you need to know what's happening here. Because this, is where these things start. Small decisions that become mass slaughter. These creatures regain a foothold by exploiting human weakness. Then they take a base. Rebuild their forces. And before you know it, the Cyber race is spreading out across the universe, erasing worlds, assimilating populations. All because of the tiny beginnings here. We need to stop her...together!"
"You're not listening to me! The conversion was never completed," Ianto was desperate. This was Lisa, his Lisa.
"She already tried to kill Gwen! You think she's gonna stop there? There is no turning back for her now," Jack ground out.
Flustered, Ianto choked back his sobs, "I'm ... not giving up on her. I love her. Can you understand that, Jack? Haven't you ever loved anyone?"
Jack froze, facing turning harder than diamonds before he nodded, "And I know that she would never want to live this way. Never! That isn't her, it isn't Lisa. Accept that."
A much changed Estelle stood before a small group of listeners, a projector showing photos of fairies on the screen behind her.
Her war ravaged voice warbled a bit, "I suppose I'm one of the fortunate few who's been allowed to see our little friends."
The back door opened and Jack and Gwen slipped into the room. Jack smiled brightly at Estelle and her back straightened almost instantly.
"And it's been no easy task. One needs to have the patience of a saint and the blind faith of a prophet," she continued lecturing.
Estelle sighed, her smile still in place, "But for me the long wait has been worthwhile."
The photograph changed again.
"I don't believe this," Gwen huffed.
Jack quickly shushed the girl.
Estelle gazed at the picture, "Well, of course, I'm not the world's best photographer. But this little person is just about visible. I was so lucky to have seen them, so privileged to witness such a magical moment. Because fairies are shy, you see."
It was her next words that made Jack lean forward and a soft, genuine smile to light his face.
"When I was a young girl of twenty-five, I had two of the greatest friends. My best friend, oh she was so special. The fairies, they let her dance with them, and she seemed so at peace with them. They accepted her unlike any other before or after. She balanced us out, she believed they were neutral. Our other friend saw only the bad, but I know in my heart that they're friendly, loving creatures."
Estelle clutched a hand to her chest as she flipped the projector off, "Thank you."
The attendees applauded politely as they rose and filtered out of the auditorium.
Jack still sat, his eyes unfocused, seeing through the years that had passed.
Jack smiled indulgently at his team as he glanced down at the clipboard he was holding. Only his team could fight aliens one minute and be chatting animatedly about their last 'snog' the next. Tucking the clipboard into the SUV Captain Jack Harkness sauntered over and folded himself into one of the camping chairs just as Gwen was begging Tosh to leave something alone.
Owen smirked as he set eyes on his boss, "Jack?"
Jack inhaled and then sighed, "Are we including non-human life forms?"
Gwen's nose scrunched upwards, "Oh, you haven't!"
Owen snickered as he shook his head, just a little proud of Jack, "You're a sick man, Harkness! That is disgusting!"
Gwen giggled a little, "I never know when he's joking."
Jack smiled his own Mona Lisa smile and ignored the unasked question, his last kiss…
Ianto quirked his head to the side, "What about Carys?"
Owen shook his head vehemently, "No, I can't believe that was his last kiss!"
Tosh was wide-eyed, innocence and a dollop of shock for good measure, "Alien though?"
"We have to remember Jack has standards, consenting, gorgeous, and vaguely humanoid," Ianto attempted to keep a straight face but the humor was infectious.
Owen watched Jack's lips curve upward and his eyes glaze for a moment.
"No way he hasn't had a kiss since then. 'Sides, he's getting all giddy just thinking about it, had to be good."
A full blown wolf grin settled in place and Jack winked at the younger man, "Better than you'll ever know, best drug in the world, and I should know."
The grin slipped back to into a mask of secrecy. Jack allowed his children to laugh at him before continuing to puzzle out the mystery.
The debate went on between the foursome about just who he had kissed, or perhaps what. He chuckled internally as a hasty Janet was retracted by Tosh at Owen's eyebrow waggle. Jack was content just stare across the countryside thinking fondly of his last kiss. Golden hair, hazel eyes that were more green than brown, and a temper to top anyone and anything. Yep, the secret smile had gone full blown grin.
Jack stared at the alien who had played with his children. No one, no one, got to do that but Jack...and maybe Buffy if she would come home.
'Mary', such an innocent name for so conniving a creature. Inhaling sharply Jack fingered the transporter in his palm. Stepping forward he pressed the artifact into the alien's hands. He kept his cold, blank stare locked with her faux pleading one. He flashed a brief smile but it wasn't quite a smile, it was an expression that spoke of lethality and malice.
There was a sharp chirp and a soft whooshing noise and Jack stepped back swiftly.
Mary radiated a true emotion in that moment, "What's happening?"
Captain Jack Harkness had left the Arcateenian holding the artifact.
"Oh, that. I re-programmed it for you. It's set to enable," Jack answered flippantly.
A bright light seeped outward, consuming Mary in its brilliance and shooting upward towards the ceiling. It contracted swiftly, leaving Torchwood sans one alien.
Jack's eyebrows rose and he gave an almost grimace, before relaxing and finishing his thought, "Sort of now."
Turning to leave, the Captain was stopped by Toshiko, "What did she...? Has she gone home?" Her voice was almost pleading.
Jack traced the grill pattern on the floor with his eyes, "I reset the co-ordinates."
Tosh's voice picked up a few levels, "Where to?"
Jack smiled falsely and adopted a well remembered ditzy tone, "To the center of the sun. It shouldn't be hot. I mean, we sent her there at night and everything."
Jack cringed internally. It was such a Buffy thing to say. One more reminder that she was across the globe.
Toshiko's eyes widened and color fled her face, "You killed her."
Jack's eyes went flat, his face hardened, "Yes," his voice was barely disguised rage.
The Captain's jaw locked up while the others put on faces of surprise and horror. Tosh started to cry.
Jack shook his head as he swallowed his anger, instead steeling himself, and infusing his voice with a harsh venom and a dose of truth, "I did what I had to what none of you could, what none of you would. I gave her mercy."
Silence. They wouldn't understand, none of them. The Doctor would, Buffy would. They knew that sometimes life was more a curse than death.
Jack breathed through his nose, not trusting his mouth to not betray him. Swallowing the dryness in his mouth he slid the cold metal glove onto his hand and touched it to poor Alex Arwyn's head. Closing his eyes he pushed his awareness out into the darkness. His brow furrowed in concentration and confliction.
Nothing, "Come on, Alex, Come back," Jack half muttered half pleaded to the body.
At the foot of the autopsy table Owen was monitoring the readings and trying to settle the riotous party in his stomach. Gwen was watching curiously. The kind of curious that only ever caused problems.
"How does it work," of course she had to ask.
Jack scowled as he kept searching, "You just sort of feel. Like reaching into the dark. Finding the dead. I can't…I don't…Ah!"
Jack stumbled backwards as if electrocuted. He swiftly pulled his hand from the glove and shook it, trying to shake off the feeling, the memory of it.
Shaking his hand as if it were electrocuted, Jack winced, "Damn! Ah! Nothing! Sorry. Never was very good with this thing, promised I wouldn't."
The last was more of a comfort for himself murmured in the silence.
Cradling the glove in his uninjured hand Jack glanced around the room before settling on Owen. He chucked the glove at the doctor, "Owen?"
Owen shook his head and passed the glove down the line.
Jack gazed down at the beaten, crumpled body in the grass.
"Traveled on the bonnet, bounced, maybe rolled, smashed his face on the road."
Gwen knelt down next to the body on the grass, assessing the scene herself.
"Sometimes I forget how fragile life is," Jack murmured as he gazed up at the cloudless sky. These scenes always reminded him of Buffy, how petite she was, how she always looked so fragile.
"Who are you?"
It was the broken cry of a broken man.
Jack closed his eyes, "A man, like you, out of his time…alone and scared."
John was watching him closely, "How do you cope?"
"It's bearable. It has to be. For…I don't have a choice," the unspoken words about living for her, with her Jack kept tucked inside.
"But I do," John's voice was thick, "If you want to help me, let me go with some dignity. Don't condemn me to live!"
He was silent, how did you respond to someone who wanted to die. Buffy would have known. She would have made everything better.
John could see the glow in Jack's eyes, the glow that could only a woman could inspire, "Promise me something, promise you won't let her go."
Jack frowned but didn't move, "Are you scared?"
John's eyes were closed and Jack could tell the tears were only moments away, "Yes."
Jack stared straight ahead as he slipped his hand into the other man's hand. It didn't take long for the exhaust to fill the car. It took even less time for John to begin to fade as he breathed the fumes deeply. Jack watched with a patience unknown to men as someone who didn't want to live slipped away.
At last John's hand went limp and slid out of Jack's. Taking a shuddering breath, Captain Jack Harkness, let one tear leak from his eye.
Squeezing the cooling hand for a moment before tucking it into John's lap he uttered one last for the man, "I promise John, I promise."
Jack narrowed his eyes as he squared off with the weevil across from him. Jack bit his lip in anticipation. There were three things in the world that made his blood race, one was adventure, one was in Cleveland, and one was right in front of him: the fight.
Jack lunged forward playfully, after a good long chase this was the corner and fight part of the evening. The alien swiped at Jack's head he barely ducked out of the way. Jack snickered and the weevil growled savagely.
The jump-suited creature sprang at Jack knocking them both back into the wall.
Jack shoved him off before scrambling to his feet, "Come on. Let's make this easy for the both of us."
The weevil started forward, arms extended. Jack locked the weevil's arms and clocked him across the cheek. Breaking Jack's grip, the weevil scratched him across the chest, leaving deep furrows before slamming Jack against the wall.
Wiping a little blood from his lip, Jack squared his shoulders and narrowed his eyes.
"This always happens when I give them the night off."
Cracking his neck in a maneuver that implied strength and power Jack stood upright. This time when the weevil swiped at him Jack retreated out of striking distance. The next strike left him on his butt, leaning against the wall.
Chuckling happily Jack glanced down at his mauled chest, "I miss Buffy saving my cute ass." Jack turned to the weevil, "And you Mister, are gonna get your ass kicked when my girl finds out you hurt me."
Jack rose to his feet, ready for round two.
The music played in the Ritz Dancehall, the sun long gone. The music, the smiles, the laughter, it was all too bright. Jack couldn't help but hate it. Well part of him, the other part was resisting the urge to run out into the night and find Buffy. Of course there were rules against that sort of thing. Undoubtedly he would run into himself which was of the bad. Besides if this whole stuck in time thing was permanent he had eternity to catch up with himself and Buffy.
The Captain, his namesake, interrupted his thoughts, "Why did you make me kiss her goodbye?"
Jack stared blankly at his still full glass, "I just think you should live every night like it's your last. Make tonight the best night of your life. You're alive—right here, right now. Your men are fine. There's a philosophy, do you wanna hear it?"
"Sure," The Captain assented.
"Life is short."
A snort of laughter issued from The Captain, "Life is short."
Jack ducked his head, he had liked it the moment Buffy had said it, even if it wasn't quite true.
"Seize the moment, because tomorrow, you might be dead."
If only the mortal man knew just how true those words were.
"What are you trying to say," asked The Captain.
"Go to her. Go to your woman and lose yourself in her," Jack almost begged.
Gods knew if he was going to war…again…he would be neck deep in Buffy with no end in sight. She would protect him, from the nightmares, from the guilt, from the monsters.
The Captain took another good swig of his own drink, "Maybe I should."
"Yeah."
It was almost with a pitying curiosity that the true Jack Harkness asked, "Is Toshiko your woman?"
"No," Jack sighed, his woman was miles and decades from here, "There's no-one here for me. Go to her."
The night wore on. Cheer faded but didn't disappear. Tosh was having some fun, being passed around from gentleman to gentleman. This was how life was supposed to be. There shouldn't have been war. It was pointless it didn't prove who was right, just who was left. Any veteran knew that being right wasn't truly worth the deaths…all the bodies.
Sitting at his table, Jack was only shaken when he was pulled up and onto the dance floor.
One of the men, George spoke scorn filled words, "What's he doing?"
The Captain was leading the un-killable man in a slow dance. Other couples stopped moving, backed away. It was sad, how could comfort be so shamed? Jack smiled at his dance partner.
"You have a woman, don't you? Your woman, does she love you?"
Jack couldn't help but grin at this topic, "Yes."
"How did you meet?"
Jack frowned briefly, "She was lost, so lost. So was I. I helped her heal, and she helped me."
"Do you love her?"
The smile returned and glittering eyes made their appearance, "With everything of my being."
"How do you know—if you love her?"
Jack chuckled slightly, "I love the way she destroys every five syllable word she says, I love how her nose crinkles when—she always smells like vanilla and the sun—warmth. She makes me feel."
The Captain was staring, he never knew a man could feel that, "I'd like to have that."
Jack shook his head, "You do."
Whatever The Captain was going to say was cut off by a thunderous crash, like a storm.
The rift flashed open, the blinding light banishing every shadow in the hall.
Toshiko called his name frantically, happily, "Jack."
"Jack, we need to get out!"
Jack stared at the rift, his way home. Jack's way back to his girl.
"Jack, you have to! We need you," Tosh pleaded.
Turning to The Captain Jack squeezed his hand, "I have to go."
Tosh stood waiting before the rift.
"It's my duty," Jack spoke while staring straight into the rift.
"Go to her," it was clear who The Captain was speaking of.
Jack inhaled heavily before he turned back to The Captain and kissed him deeply. It wasn't that Jack wanted the man, he wouldn't say 'no' for sure, but this was for The Captain. It was just the right thing to do, give a doomed man one last moment of joy. It was compassion.
Breaking away, Jack looked back only once to find The Captain saluting him, before following Toshiko into the dazzling haze of white light and into their time.
Jack's own words echoed in his ears as he felt the life being sucked from him.
If Abaddon is the bringer of death, let's see how he does with me. If he feeds on life, then I'm an all-you-can-eat buffet.
Even through the excruciating pain one thought bore him threw it smiling. Buffy would kill him. Kill him for good if this didn't work—if he didn't come back.
Abaddon stood above Jack, his shadow just barely falling upon him. It was upon him to save the world.
And he wondered if its shadow had killed her already, if it could. He wondered if she was frantically calling their home, the hub, his cell. He wondered if this was really the end, and if it was, why wasn't he scared. He wondered if he would see her smiling face again, those absolving green eyes. He wondered if she would ever hold him again, if he would ever know the pleasure of her body again.
Jack wondered a lot of things in those brief pain-rife moments. He never wondered if she loved him. He didn't have to. That was an absolute.
His own scream filled his ears and he closed his eyes, and he wondered if he would go to heaven. The heaven she had described to him.
And then it was dark, and the agony was gone.
3500 miles away a heart slammed to a stop, body jerking upright in bed. Head thrown back, hair in disarray, and muscles between rigor mortis and atrophy before the body of The Slayer collapsed, lifeless.
In the Darkness Jack could only hear his own ragged breathing. There was little he feared, death wasn't one of those things, but this was. The Darkness.
There were hands grasping for him, the Creeping things that lived in the Dark.
"Jack," it was a whisper only half there.
It was enough. In the Darkness there were the Creeping things, and there was Her.
"Buffy."
She was part of the Darkness. It embraced her warmly like an old lover, but with others it pulled and smothered and drowned like a pest. Jack had always wondered why—they were the same—the Darkness didn't keep them—but Jack didn't like the Dark and the Dark didn't like him.
"Jack," she called again, it was more substantial this time.
"I want to go home. It's cold…" Jack begged her.
Though he knew she was before him, she was in echoes, "It's too early, the sun will burn us."
"It's time to go home, I want to go," Jack whimpered urgently.
Never in the many times they had occupied the Darkness with Buffy had she ever done this—only in her dreams.
"Home…Miles to go—counting down from 7-3-0. All broken, it's too early!"
"We have to go, we don't belong!"
"Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village, though—Between the woods and frozen lake. The darkest evening of the year. The woods are lovely, dark and deep—And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep. It's coming—oh god, it's coming," her voice was breathy, fast and altogether unnatural.
Jack reached out into the Dark, searching for her, "I want to go back, I want to leave the coldness. Take me home."
Buffy gave one last shudder, "It fades. It all fades."
"Jack," she asked, "Is that you?"
"Buffy," this was his girl, Jack could sense that.
"We need to go," Buffy said softly, "Come back to me Jack, please, come back."
There she was, smiling softly and reaching out to hold him. She was the clichéd light in the Darkness.
Back in the morgue, the vigil over a dead man continued. The tears were real, but the very situation was unreal. It wasn't something Torchwood discussed, but it was now general knowledge that Captain Jack Harkness just didn't die.
His heart stuttered to life, and as sensation returned he felt the lightest brush of someone's lips on his. The image of his beloved etched on the backs of his eyelids made him smile and his first breath was a prayer to Her.
"Thank you."
Thanks for all the lovely reviews, hope for more…make me happy please?