nightrider101 (nightrider101) wrote,
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FIC: Scorched Food (1/3)

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FIC: Scorched Food
Author: NightRider
Rating: PG for slashy implications
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Beta: The forever amazing starxd_sparrow
Characters: The Tenth Doctor and the Torchwood Team
Summary: “I won,” the Doctor whispered. His head lifted, his face splitting onto a maniac grin. “The King of Mortashon challenged me - me - to a drinking contest! In front of the royal court, of course. Can you believe it?"
A/N: This was written at the request of sarkywoman. I hope she enjoys it. It's more crack than anything else. If anyone expresses an interest, I'm not against continuing this.

We're going to assume that Jack and Ianto have an open relationship.




“You’re lucky that Weevil didn’t rip your head off,” Owen muttered as he rubbed antiseptic cream on Ianto’s shoulder. The injury didn’t require stitches, but it needed to be cleaned and bandaged.

“I didn’t see you rushing in to help me,” Ianto replied with equal venom.

“Sorry, I was busy taking care of four Weevils on my own,” Owen returned. “I figured you were capable of incapacitating one scrawny Weevil. Obviously that was my oversight.”

“Gentlemen,” Jack interjected with a raised eyebrow.

Gwen snickered. “And by gentlemen, he means children.”

“Children are better behaved,” Tosh replied as she inspected the tear in her blouse.

“Ladies,” Jack admonished.

“And by ladies he means –“

“Owen!” Jack barked. “The Weevils are starting to look like better company than the four of you.”

“Well, don’t let us keep you,” Ianto stated as he gestured towards the cell block. “I’m sure Janet would love the company.”

“You don’t want to go with him, Ianto? I thought the two of you were into some freaky –“

“Owen!” said Tosh and Gwen in unison.

“Okay, everyone gets the night off,” Jack stated, pushing back from the table and standing. “I think we all could use some rest.”

“He just wants to be alone with Janet.”

“Ianto, I didn’t know you had it in you!” Owen said, clapping the other man on his back.

“I don’t know about anyone else, but I could go for a drink,” Gwen stated.

“Count me in,” Tosh agreed.

Ianto glanced down at the tattered remains of his suit. “Let me change clothes first.”

“You know I’m never one to turn down a free drink,” Owen commented, packing away his medical kit.

“Who said it was free?” Gwen asked. Owen removed the remaining supplies, whistling while he worked.

Tosh watched Jack rearrange stacks of random paperwork. “Are you going to join us?”

“I’ve got some reports I need to get caught up on,” Jack replied. “If I finish –“

“What’s up with the newfound dedication, Jack?” Owen questioned with a raised eyebrow. “We’re talking about free drinks here.”

“They’re not free, Owen!” Gwen snapped. “It would take a month’s salary to cover your tab!”

“You guys go ahead,” Jack continued. “I’m trying to lay off the hard stuff anyway.” Owen dropped his keys, and Tosh’s eyes widened.

“Okay, who are you and what have you done with our Jack?” Owen asked, reaching underneath his leather jacket for his gun.

“Forgive me for trying to show a little responsibility!” Jack snapped. “Yes, even I can grow up.”

“Since when?” Ianto asked while pulling a clean shirt over his head. “I must have missed the memo.”

“All right, off to the pub,” Jack stated, herding the team towards the exit.

“You’re getting boring in your old age,” Owen said with a sigh.

“Wait – do you hear that?” Gwen asked, freezing in her tracks. Tosh brushed her hair out of her eyes as wind wafted through the Hub.

“What the hell? Since when is the Hub windy?” Owen asked, his hand reaching for his gun again. The sounds of metal grating against metal reverberated off the walls.

“It’s nothing,” Jack stated hurriedly as he pressed his hands against the backs of the two closest team members. “Go on, an evening of drunkenness awaits!”

Ianto wiped the back of his arm across his eyes. “Jack, why is there a police box in the hub?”

“It’s not a police box,” Jack growled. Four sets of wide eyes studied the new arrival to the base.

Tosh pointed toward the wooden structure. “Sure looks like a police box.”

It was obvious no one was going to budge, and Jack found himself damning the intrinsic curiosity of his teammates. “He’s an old friend of mine, okay?” He received several skeptical glances and added, “A very good friend. In fact, he’s one of the greatest - ”

The door to the TARDIS was thrown open, and the Doctor stumbled out. “Jack, my boy! This must be Scorched Food!”

Jack couldn’t stop his jaw from dropping. The Doctor’s tie was around his head; his coat was barely secured over one arm, and a bottle of some alien liquid was loosely grasped in one hand.

“Scorched food?”

“You’re in Torchwood, Doctor,” Jack clarified, pressing his fingers against his eyes.

“Torchwood,” the Doctor repeated. “That’s what I said.”

“Wait, did he just say the Doctor?” Gwen asked. “He’s the Doctor?”

The Doctor made several attempts to point at himself, but kept missing completely. “That’s me!”

The Doctor?” Ianto repeated.

“Are they always this thick?” the Doctor asked, taking several shaky steps forward before leaning against a desk, sending several alien artifacts crashing to the floor. If Jack didn’t know any better, he’d say that gesture was intentional. “Thick-thickety-thick.” The Time Lord giggled at his own joke before taking several leisurely sips from the glass bottle.

Owen discreetly removed his hand from his gun and rubbed the back of his neck. “This is Torchwood’s number one enemy? Perhaps we should set our sights a little higher next time.”

“You must be Owen,” the Doctor cheerfully stated, raising the bottle in a silent toast.

“You told him about me?” Owen growled, elbowing Jack in the ribs. Gwen and Tosh shared a concerned look. Just how much did this alien know about Torchwood?

The Doctor shrugged one shoulder. “Perhaps I read your mind.”

“He can do that?” Owen gasped, a second elbow finding its way to Jack’s ribcage. “Can he really do that?”

“No,” Jack growled through clenched teeth. “He can’t do that. Well, he can, but not without doing this weird hand thing.” Jack widened his fingers in a gesture that look remarkably liked the Vulcan greeting from Star Trek.

“Or I read just read your name tag,” the Doctor replied flatly. Owen’s gaze dropped to his shirt where his hospital credentials were hanging.

Tosh and Gwen covered theirs mouths to stifle the laughter. “I like him.”

Not that Jack minded the visit, but the Doctor typically wasn’t one for social calls. “So what’s up, Doctor? Did you need something?”

“I didn’t realize I needed an excuse to stop by and see a friend.”

“You don’t,” Jack replied, his eyes studying the Doctor’s disheveled appearance searching for any signs that something was wrong. “But I doubt this is a social call.”

“So why are you here, Doctor?” Gwen asked.

Jack jerked around as if he’d forgotten they were there. “I thought you guys were going to the pub.”

“This is way better than the pub,” Ianto stated.

“Do we have any beer left in the fridge?” Owen asked.

“I think we have some leftover from the last office party,” Tosh offered.

“Doctor, what is it?” Jack asked, moving over to stand in front of the swaying Time Lord. Jack wrapped his fingers around the Doctor’s biceps to steady him. “What happened?”

The Doctor lowered his gaze, his eyes fixated on the spinning floor. “Jack.”

“Whatever it is, it’s going to be all right,” Jack said gently. “Tell me what happened. We’ll figure it out.”

“I won,” the Doctor whispered. His head lifted, his face splitting onto a maniac grin. “The King of Mortashon challenged me - me - to a drinking contest! In front of the royal court, of course. Can you believe it? Did he honestly think-“

“A drinking contest?” Jack said flatly.

“That’s what I said, yes.”

“You’re here because you won a drinking contest,” Jack repeated while shaking his head.

“I emerged victorious, Jack! I thought you’d like to savor my triumph.”

Peels of laughter echoed around the hub. Owen was clinging to Ianto’s good arm for support.

“I thought something was wrong!” Jack barked, releasing the Time Lord suddenly. The Doctor had been leaning against Jack more than he’d realized, and he nearly crumpled to the floor. Without thinking, Jack’s arm wrapped around the Doctor’s waist before he did a face plant on the concrete floor.

“That’s better. I appear to be vertically challenged this evening,” the Doctor commented, leaning heavily against Jack’s side. “Oh, you smell nice.”

“Doctor –“ Jack swallowed several times as the Doctor’s nose pressed against his neck. A pink tongue soon followed unable to resist tasting the tantalizing, salty skin. “Whoa, Doctor.” What was supposed to be a reprimand ended up being a high-pitched squeak.

“This is like a cabaret,” Owen commented, twisting the cap off his beer. “Entertainment while you drink!”

“Don’t we have some popcorn around here somewhere?” Gwen asked.

“Okay, get out,” Jack barked, turning away from the Doctor. He kept his arm firmly secured around the Time Lord’s waist. “Go somewhere. Anywhere. Just go. Now.”

“Spoil sport,” Ianto griped as he reached for his jacket.

“Come on, Jack. We could learn a lot from him,” Tosh stated, pushing her glasses further up her nose.

“The only thing we’re going to learn from him tonight is –“

“Shut up, Owen!” Jack snapped.

“Yeah, yeah. Keep your shirt on,” Owen smirked. “Or take if off if that’s what you prefer.”

“Definitely take it off,” Ianto said.

“You all have exactly three seconds before –“

“We’re going,” Gwen interjected, grabbing her keys and shoving the rest of the team towards the exit. “Good night, Jack.”

“Have fun!” Tosh called.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Owen said with a grin.

“That doesn’t leave much,” Ianto commented.

“Exactly.”

Part 2
Tags: doctor who, fanfic, scorched food, ten/jack, torchwood
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