Title: Five 'dances' that Jack never had, and one that he did.
Word Count: approx 1900
Rating: PG-15, T
Prompt/Summary: Five ways fic
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Torchwood characters, I'm only borrowing them, and I promise to return them in minty fresh condition when I'm finished.
Spoilers: S1 Doctor Who, S1 Torchwood. Set during S1 TW
Five 'dances' that Jack never had, and one that he did.
Jack never shagged Algy. Oh he flirted with him, told him he had a lovely bottom, and every so often managed a quick squeeze of that lovely bottom as he walked past. But this was the 1940’s, and much as Jack loved this time, knowing that homosexuality was illegal in this time and place certainly put a cramp in his sex life…or at least half of it. It took a lot more time and effort to seduce a guy into his bed in times like this, and frequently volcano day came round before Jack’s efforts paid off.
So most of the time he stuck to women in his trips to the 1940’s, but occasionally, very occasionally, he found a guy who was worth his time.
Algy was one of those guys. He was sweet, he was smart, he was gentle…and he was definitely worth Jack’s time. If only he had had more of it. Jack loved the 1940’s, but he hated what it did to people like Algy. People whose only so called crime was to be attracted to their own sex. People who had to hide their feelings every day of their life or risk losing everything.
Jack knew what Algy’s future was likely to be. If he survived the war in one piece, he’d probably live out his life, too afraid to come out of the closet to anybody. He’d either make a loveless marriage to keep up appearances or live out his life alone and lonely. Jack was tempted occasionally to use his ships computer to check out Algy’s future…to find out if he even *had* one, but he made it a point never to do that while he was still in the past. As good an actor and conman as he was, to have to stand in front of somebody and chat and flirt with them, all the while *knowing* that they were going to die and there was nothing he could do about it, Jack wasn’t *that* cold hearted. Oh he knew that some if not all of the people he met in the 1940’s would die young. Heck, all of them were long dead before he was even born, but it was one thing to know it in general, it was different to know the exact date and manner of their death.
So Jack flirted with Algy and complimented him on his bottom and other parts of his body, and tried to instil in him the confidence that he’d need to survive in this dangerous world. Jack had taken his time setting up the con this time, wanting to spend as much time as possible with Algy before it was time to leave. He would have done it too. Another week…another few days and he and Algy would have been together. Maybe it would have only been a night, but that would have been enough.
But then he’d seen that blonde girl hanging from a barrage balloon in the middle of an air raid and he’d gone and picked her up and gotten hooked up with Rose and the Doctor and saved everybody from the bomb, and gotten his ship destroyed and he never had a chance to go back and finish what he’d started with Algy.
It was many years, many deaths and many shags later before Jack finally found out Algy’s fate. Pure happenstance had seen him pick up a newspaper featuring an interview with one of the oldest couples who had registered a civil union once the law had been passed. While Algy may not have aged as well as Jack had, his smile was still the same as Jack remembered and holding the hand of his partner of over forty years, he looked happier than Jack had ever seen him during the war.
Jack never shagged the Doctor. He never shagged Rose. He never shagged the Doctor *and* Rose although he’d fantasized about it more than once. It wasn’t that he didn’t think they’d be open to the idea; it was just that he never quite got around to suggesting it outright. The Doctor had cheerfully returned Jack’s banter but without letting it drift into the realms of serious suggestion, and Rose was too taken with the Doctor to probably even consider anything less than a threesome.
And just when Jack thought he might finally wear them down, along came Mickey, and the Mayor of Cardiff. And what with one thing and another the timing just never seemed right.
And then there was Satellite 5 and Rose getting vaporized only she wasn’t dead but the Dalek’s had her and there was the rescue and the fight and Jack was dead only then he wasn’t and by the time he heard the engines of the TARDIS starting up again, it was too late and they’d gone and left him behind.
He took some small comfort in the fact that Rose had been sent away to safety and that the TARDIS wouldn’t have taken off without the Doctor at the helm so at least they were safe. Everybody else on board Satellite 5 was dead, but so were all the Dalek’s and the only two people Jack cared about were safe.
It almost made up for the fact that he was stranded in the future with no immediate way home.
Jack would like to make it clear that he has never shagged a Dalek. Not only that, but the thought has never even crossed his mind. Okay, so he has wondered occasionally what they could do with that plunger device attachment thing that they have, but he has never seriously considered shagging them. Even *he* has to draw the line somewhere…and genocidal nutcase machines is a good place to draw it.
Now those Trine-E and Zu-Zana droids, that was another matter. Okay, so they wanted to cut his head off and replace it with a dog’s head, but hey, it wasn’t personal, and whoever had designed them had certainly known how to highlight their best features. But there was a time and a place for everything and when a droid is wielding a chainsaw attachment in your direction it’s probably not a good time to try for a shag, so Jack had destroyed them both and went on his merry way.
Jack never shagged Gwen. Oh he could have had her all right. If he’d played his cards right then it’d have been him that she’d turned to rather than Owen when she’d felt the need to ‘talk’. But he’d kept making that point to her about how she shouldn’t let things slide…how she should keep her life going outside of the hub. And there was Rhys to think of. Jack doesn’t do love triangles or quadrangles for that matter…not anymore. It’s one thing to mess around with an established relationship when you can just zip away through time and space, it’s quite another thing when you have to stick around and face the consequences. No, if he was going to shag Gwen, he would definitely have included Rhys in the party.
But somehow, after working side by side with Gwen for a while, Jack got the idea that a threesome would definitely not be an option. While sleeping with another man was clearly not something she had a problem with, Jack was pretty sure that she wouldn’t want Rhys doing the same.
Jack never shagged himself…or to be more accurate, he didn’t shag the man whose name he had stolen. It wasn’t for lack of interest…in a different time and place, Jack would have taken one look and then moved straight in with his ‘Hi, Captain Jack Harkness’. But effective as that line frequently was, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that it might not be the most appropriate one to use in *those* circumstances.
It still wouldn’t have stopped Jack from flirting, but as he knew from experience, 1941 wasn’t the best place for casual same-sex flirting and, not only was he possibly trapped in this time, but he had Tosh to look after as well, and there were more important things to worry about than having a shag.
But knowing that this was the real Captain Harkness’s last night alive…Jack so much wanted to do something to assuage the guilt he was feeling. He knew that it wasn’t his fault…Captain Harkness had been a dead man, long before Jack had even been born. He knew that there was absolutely nothing he could have done to save him…that the act of taking his name and using it as his own, had had no bearing on Captain Harkness’s fate. But all Jack felt was guilt, and shame that he had sullied the name of this hero standing before him. And while sex wasn’t a cure-all, wasn’t something that could be used as atonement, at least it would have given the Captain a memorable and fulfilling last night alive.
But by the time the Captain had overcome his fears and prejudices, it was too late. An intimate dance…a kiss…and all Jack left behind were memories.
Jack almost didn’t shag Ianto. He had certainly *wanted* to shag him, almost from the very first day he met him. So he’d followed his usual pattern of flirting and innuendo that more often than not ended up with a great shag or a slap in the face. Ianto however had taken the flirting in his stride, commenting about it being harassment, but giving as good as he got. It had been months before Jack had realized that Ianto’s responses had been part of a carefully constructed façade that was hiding the real Ianto Jones and his terrible secret.
Jack knew he should have fired Ianto, should have retconned him back to before he started with Torchwood…should have added him to the list of shags he was never going to have…but there was something about Ianto, hidden depths of a tortured soul…the look of anguish in his face after Lisa had been executed had been a familiar look to Jack, for he had seen it in his own mirror oh so many times as the people he cared about had been taken from him.
So Jack had let Ianto stay, had let him atone for his sins, because after all, everybody had something to atone for, and Jack wouldn’t have been the man he was today if he hadn’t once been given a second chance.
And then a few months later, Ianto gave Jack his second chance and with the help of a stopwatch, Ianto was moved firmly from the list of ‘never shagged’ to the list of ‘shagged’ and even onto the list of ‘definitely will shag again’.
And with Ianto’s help, Jack realized that even for a potentially immortal being, time was too short to dwell on missed chances and near misses. What was done was done, and couldn’t be changed…*shouldn’t* be changed. So he pushed from his mind all missed chances and pain and when he was with Ianto, he didn’t regret a thing.