nightrider101 (nightrider101) wrote,

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FIC: The Adventures of Parker and Cohen 6/6

FIC: The Adventures of Parker and Cohen
Author: NightRider
Rating: PG
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Beta: The forever amazing starxd_sparrow and souleswanderer
Characters: The Tenth Doctor and the Torchwood Team
Summary: The Doctor's antics continue and with Owen as a guide, how will Jack ever cope?
A/N: This is the sequel to Scorched Food. The crack continues!
Dedication: For my gentle reader, petit_fox.

There will be one more story in this series. Obviously we're working towards a goal here. ;) I'm taking a break to participate in NaNoWriMo in November. If I survive that, I should be back with lots of fic in December. :)

Thank you to everyone that's held on for this wild ride!

Jack attempted to maintain some semblance of control as he led the Doctor into the Hub. He collapsed on the worn couch, his skin tingling as warm, pleasant sensations traversed his body.

He swallowed several times before speaking. “Okay, how did you do that?”

The Doctor answered without hesitation. “Time Lord.”

Jack rubbed his neck, his skin quivering underneath his hand. “You bent time, didn’t you?”

Tugging on his ear, the Doctor replied, “In the most simplistic terms, yes.”

“And you thought it was a good idea to go all Time Lord in a crowded pub because…” He let the unfinished sentence hang in the air.

The Doctor shrugged. “I was trying to do something special. It was memorable, yes?”

Jack relented, the memory pleasurably simmering in his mind. “It was unforgettable, Doctor.”

The Time Lord grinned. “Good.”

“So why did you do it?” Jack asked. “You had to know it was risky.”

“I doubt a group of heavily intoxicated humans pose a great threat to me. That doesn’t even make my top one hundred.”

“Never doubt the power of drunken people in large quantities.”

The Doctor nodded. “I’ll try to remember that.”

Jack reached for his hand, tugging the Doctor down next to him. “You never answered my question.”

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

Jack figured the Doctor knew him better by now. Letting things go wasn’t his strong suit. “Nope.”

The Doctor sighed and muttered something about relentless immortals. “Apparently I’m not the only one that knows how to kill the mood.”

“Don’t worry, Doc’. I’m very good at getting the mood back,” Jack said, sliding his hand up the Doctor’s spine.

“I bet.”

“The question, Doctor,” Jack persisted.

The Doctor glanced at him out of the corners of his eyes, his face unreadable. "This thing –"


“I won’t always be here, Jack.”

Jack shook his head, a thoughtful smile on his face. “I know. I’ve never asked you to stay.”

“If something should happen –"

Jack’s eyes narrowed, his smile dissipating to concern. “Do you know something I don’t? Because if you do, now would be a great time to -”

The Doctor raised his hands, palms outward. “No, no. I’m merely speculating on the possibility that one day I might not come back.”

“You’re saying it won’t be by choice?”

The Doctor nodded. “And if that should happen, at least you’ll have –" He faltered, his cheeks flushing as he reached for Jack’s hand – the tangible memory infiltrated Jack’s senses – dancing, touching, living.

Jack swallowed, his eyes wide as his mind twisted around the vibrant sensations. “It was a gift.”

The Doctor released Jack’s hand so he could rub the back of his neck. “Yeah, something like that.”

Jack grinned, his eyes shifting to a predatory leer. “So can I give you something memorable now?” He leaned towards the Doctor, summoning over a century’s worth of sexual prowess - and the Time Lord was off the couch so fast, Jack ended up on the floor, staring up at the wide-eyed man. “Well, that didn’t go as planned.”

“It’s not that easy, Jack.” The Doctor started pacing, and Jack squeezed his eyes closed.

“You’re going to give me a headache if you keep that up.”

The Doctor stopped, sheepishly looking down at Jack, before extending his hand. “I’m sorry.”

Jack felt the Doctor’s strength, coiled and dormant, as he pulled him off the ground easily before returning to his pacing.

“Would you like to explain yourself or just keep pacing a hole in the Hub floor?” Jack asked, watching the Doctor as he rounded for another pass - ten steps forward and exactly ten steps back.

The Doctor didn’t lift his gaze from the floor. “There’s a reason why I don’t do domestic.”

“Because you can’t cook?”

“Oi! I’m a fine cook!”

“Rose told me about the time you nearly burned down the kitchen in the TARDIS.”

The Doctor crossed his arms over his chest. “That wasn’t my fault! I was trying to make prawns!”

“So it was the prawns fault? Was it an uprising? How ever did you survive?”

The Doctor stared at Jack who was practically doubled over with laughter. “You’re mocking me, aren’t you?”

Jack wiped his face on his sleeve after the fit of laughter had quieted. “Come on, Doctor. I know you don’t do domestic. So what’s really going on here?”

The Doctor’s expression was serious, and Jack’s stomach plummeted to his feet, all previous humor eradicated. “I know what this is,” he said quietly. “You’re having second thoughts.” Jack fears were confirmed by the Doctor’s silence.

“Hey, no worries, right?” Jack said, his tone too bright and cheery to ever be believable. “The idea of you, a Time Lord, ever actually wanting to be with someone like me, a conman, the leader of an agency you despise, really is absurd.”

The Doctor was shaking his head. “What – what? No, that’s not what I said! You think –?” Frustrated, he tugged on his hair leaving it sticking up in a hundred different directions. “See! This is why I can’t do domestic!”

“I swear if you say ‘it’s not you, it’s me,’ I’m going to scream,” Jack threatened.

“But it is me,” the Doctor mumbled.

“Okay, let’s try this again, shall we?” Jack announced. “Can you try to explain what you’re thinking? And in words I can understand, please.”

The Doctor opened his mouth, paused, closed his mouth, waited several seconds, and tried again. “Where do you think –“ he gestured between himself and Jack – “is going?”

“I was hoping my bedroom.”

The Doctor pointed his finger in Jack’s direction. “Aha! You see!”

“That is the logical progression of things,” Jack said honestly. “Would you prefer the TARDIS? A sunny beach somewhere? You know I’m flexible.”

“This isn’t a joke.”

“I’m trying here, Doc’. Stupid ape, remember?” Jack’s eyes drifted to his folded hands. “I thought you wanted this.”

Despite all his blathering that he didn’t do domestic, parameters had to be established. He’d already hurt this man, more than once, and he didn’t want to make the same mistakes again. “I do,” the Doctor said, running his hand over his wayward hair, “but it’s complicated.”

“We’ve been over this,” Jack reminded him. “It’s always complicated with you. I expected nothing less.”

“It’s different. It will be different,” the Doctor said cryptically.

Jack’s eyes widened. “You’re talking about sex, aren’t you?”

The Doctor nodded, his knowing eyes defying the innocent blush on his cheeks. “If that’s really what you want –“

Jack continued to stare at him through wide eyes. “Are you serious?” Was it possible after everything they’d been through, after over one hundred years of waiting and longing, the Doctor actually believed Jack didn’t want him? “Alien or not, you can’t be that thick. I’ve done everything but go around posting flyers.”

“I’m giving you a chance to say no. If you’re not ready or you’ve changed your mind, I’ll understand because it won’t be like anything you’ve ever experienced before.”

“Are you trying to scare me? Because it’s not working. At all.”

“I’m trying to give you a chance to –“

Jack pushed himself off the couch, his voice cutting across the Doctor. “Yeah, not going to happen, Doc’. I’ve wanted this, you, ever since I met you. That’s not going to change.”

The Doctor watched him closely as he approached. “You, the alien, the Time Lord, the whatever-you-happen-to-be-at-this-moment, I want it.” Jack wrapped his hand around the back of the Doctor’s head, pulling him close, and pressing his lips against the cool mouth, effectively cutting off whatever response the Doctor was bound to be formulating.

There were few certainties in this Universe, but Jack’s devotion to his Doctor was unwavering and had withstood - and would continue to endure - the test of time. He tried to convey that, his loyalty, his trust, and yes, his love, through the kiss. What he got in return was his Time Lord, fire and ice, the storm and everything in-between, and it was wonderful.

It wasn’t the kind of kiss that left Jack wanting to rip his clothes off and slam his partner up against the nearest wall. It was a kiss that whispered of possibilities, and it left him aching for more.

He felt the Doctor smile against his mouth. “Well, when you put it that way…”

Jack had gotten his message across. Sliding both of his hands through the Doctor’s hair, he explored the Doctor’s mouth as if he was starving, not even stopping for the gnawing need for oxygen.

“Easy,” the Doctor murmured, rubbing the pad of his thumb across Jack’s cheek. “We’ve got time.”

There had been a time when Jack had seen the Doctor as a conquest, an unattainable prize. It became almost a game; the flirting and running joke of ‘buy me a drink’, but the underlying desire and longing had always been very real. The reality of this moment, of being with the Doctor and being wanted in return was almost too much for Jack’s mind to comprehend.

Then the Doctor said something Jack would never forget: “This is only the beginning.”

The Doctor leaned forward, and Jack parted his mouth slightly with anticipation, but even a kissing session with the Doctor wasn’t going to be normal by human standards. He felt the Doctor’s cool lips kissing his closed eyelids. Soon those lips pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose, his cheeks, sliding over until he was nibbling on Jack’s earlobe.

Jack groaned, his knees going weak as the Doctor licked the outer shell of his ear. At this rate, Jack knew he was going to end up in a boneless heap in the floor. “Doctor,” he breathed.

“0.9%. Perfect salt content for a human being.”

“I always knew I was exceptional,” Jack replied, hoping he didn’t sound as wound up as he felt.

The Doctor found his way to Jack’s neck, nibbling and sampling his way down to Jack’s shoulder.

“You’re tasting me, aren’t you?” Jack asked, swallowing hard when the Doctor undid the top button of his shirt. “Breaking me down into simple chemical compounds.”

“Is lust a chemical compound?”

“You can taste that?” Jack squeaked.

“Pheromones, Jack. Your unique taste. It’s…intoxicating.”

“Am I just a science experiment to you?” Jack asked, but soon was disappointed when the Doctor pulled away to look at him. The Doctor’s pupils were dilated, brown eyes nearly consumed with desire.

Seeing the Doctor so clearly aroused, Jack reached for him and captured his mouth in a leisurely but passionate kiss, taking the time to explore his mouth, basking in the erotic taste that was purely Time Lord.

At this rate, Jack didn’t care if they made it to the bedroom. He realized he thought too soon when the Doctor pulled away, eyebrows furrowed with concern.

“What is it?” Jack asked, knowing he wouldn’t like the answer.

“The TARDIS. Something’s wrong.”

The Doctor retrieved his coat where it had been carelessly tossed over the back of a chair and pulled his psychic paper from the pocket. The message was in bold: “Doctor, come quickly. We need your help.”

Folding the psychic paper, the Doctor ran his hand through his hair, an apology clearly written on his face. “Jack, I’m –“

“It’s okay,” Jack interjected, a gentle smile curving his lips. “You’ve got to go.”

The Doctor sighed and realized if anyone would understand, it was Jack. “Thank you.”

“After all, like you said, this is just the beginning,” Jack said, enjoying the way those words rolled off his tongue like an unspoken promise. “Come on, I’ll drive you back to the TARDIS.”

Neither spoke as Jack drove him back to the pub. He saw the TARDIS parked in the alleyway, and the Doctor had opened the door before the SUV had rolled to a stop.

“Right then, duty calls!” the Doctor announced excitedly. He was several feel from the SUV when he slapped his forehead. “Oh, right! Almost forgot!” He spun on his heel, reaching into his coat pocket and retrieving a plastic compact disc case. He leaned through the open door and handed Jack the case. “I thought you might like this.”

He kissed Jack a final time, his eyes bright and shining when he pulled away. “I’ll see you soon.”

“You can count on it,” Jack agreed. “Be safe!” he called as he watched the Doctor jog back to the TARDIS.

After the TARDIS dematerialized, Jack looked at the cover in his hand. He recognized the six-legged blue aliens from the church immediately. Apparently CDs weren’t unique to the planet Earth. Grinning, he opened the container and noted the Doctor’s thick script immediately.

This dance is for you.

Six strange markings were underneath the Doctor’s writing which Jack assumed was the aliens’ signatures. He slipped the disc into the player on the console. The sound that filtered through the speakers was distinctly alien, but held a familiar feel – Glenn Miller.

Jack laughed aloud, his face splitting into a grin as he recalled his intimate dance with the Doctor. It warmed him right to his soul.

He’d danced with the Doctor, kissed him, and still felt like he’d barely begun to scratch the surface of all that the Time Lord was. He could wait.

He drove down the street, his hands tapping the steering wheel in time with the music.

Tags: doctor who, fanfic, parker and cohen, torchwood

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