Note: THERE'S NO SEX IN THIS YET, OK??!
Also, feel free to critique, and if you happen to be a huge torchwood fan could you email me? Cos I haven't seen any.
Title: Courting Donna
Author: Callisto Shampoo
Rating: No sex yet!
Length: 3400words
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Jack Harkness/Donna/Jack Sparrow
Genre/Category: humour, sex
Warnings: Sex, threesome, AU.
Spoilers: Yeah, starts off after the last episode with Donna at the end of season ... um.. four?
Summary: Donna meets a handsome stranger in a pub. Things get stranger.
Jack stepped out the cubicle, shrugging his jacket on. He ran a hand through his air, winked at himself in the mirror and grinned before stepping into the pub. A quick scan was difficult; too many people, shouting and smoking, celebrating the end of another working week. He began to work his way through the press of bodies, eyes alert for flame hair. He caught her out of the corner of his eye; his gaze snapped to hers and his grin was scintillating. A woman he was currently pressed against whispered a hello as he slipped away from her, closer to his quarry. She had turned away though; no idea he was coming for her. He ran a hand through his hair again, tugged on his collar, and looked at Donna thoroughly.
She had no clue he was there. Or that he knew her. Her eyes tracked him for a second, and then she looked away, back to her friends. Glasses were raised, and he could hear her voice cutting through the noise. She looked trim and smart, business clothes with a nice cut. Nothing that made her stand out.
"And a toast to my recent promotion!" she said, sarcasm dripping from every word. Her friends screamed and laughed and toasted with her. Jack slowed to a halt. She wouldn't remember him. He headed to the bar. He needed a beer.
"I love working with reliable staff," he said. He was chatting to a handsome young man when the flash of red caught his eye again. Every cell in his body knew exactly where she was as she tried to weave her way through the crowd. He knew she would need another drink - eventually. He had time. It was one thing he had a lot of. He tugged his ear, trying not to grin like a predator.
"Get out of my bloody way," she snarled at someone. Jack tried to keep his eyes glued to his new friend.
"There's nothing quite like knowing they're there for you," he finished his sentence.
"Sean, by the way," his new friend said. "I saw you walk in here," he looked up from the beer cradled between his arms, and darted a glance at Jack. Jack almost smacked himself in the head. Sean was interested. He was attractive - and if Donna wasn't in the bar, he would have been perfect for a good night out in London. Jack's gaze slid back to flame hair.
"I'll have another jug, mate," Donna told the barman, still crackling with annoyance. Instantly, the man moved to her order. Feeling Jack's stare, she flicked her hair behind her, left and then right, and then turned to glare at him. For a second, she frowned. Then her glare returned.
"What are you lookin' at?" she grated. She collected her beer and turned around.
"You," Jack said, forgetting Sean. Donna looked at him again, and once again she looked puzzled.
"Do I... do I know you?" she asked, her anger gone for the briefest moment. "I wasn't drunk or nothin'," she asked suspiciously. Her anger was back in full force, her brows lowering and her chin lifted. He admired the curve of her cheekbones, and the jut of her nose. How could the Doctor have left her behind?
"No, no, really... my name's Jack," he said, proffering his hand. He tried to blind her with his grin.
"Men like you don't talk to women like me," she said in clipped tones, and her nose lifted even further. She looked Sean over thoroughly before she started to force her way back to her friends.
"Hot damn," Jack couldn't stop the admiring grin. "Hot fuckin' damn."
"Friend of yours?" Morose Sean asked.
"Not yet, I guess," Jack went over the entire conversation in his head again. He laughed.
"Women," Sean said to his drink.
"Can't get enough of 'em, can't leave 'em on a desert planet," Jack agreed, raising his beer. They sighed in unison. Jack swung around on his stool, leaning his elbows onto the bar behind him, and watched the circle of women. All of them were temps. Only one of them was a super temp. He wished her memory were whole - that they might start together as equals. Would she even consider a drink from him? She was less than impressed from her first glance. His grin broke through again. The chase was on. She wanted him. He wanted her. He'd just have to find a way. She slid a glance his way, but seeing him watching, her eyes skittered off. He yawned and stretched, hoping she was admiring the view he was offering. But when he opened his eyes again, she was still talking to the blonde on the far side of her.
He was going to have to think of a different tack.
***
"You dropped this," he swiped a damp twenty from the pavement, coming up to hand it to her. She bit her lip. Rain dripped on them, and a hesitant moon lit her features.
"You again?" Her gaze was clouded by alcohol, but she was as sharp and acerbic as ever. He tried hard to hide his delight at seeing her.
"My name's Jack," he said.
"None of your business," she said, declining to give him her name. They were outside the pub. The blonde was standing a few paces on, tapping her foot.
"May I walk you to your car?" he asked. His heart leapt in hope, even as his head knew she would turn him down.
"That's it there," she said, giving him a snide glance as she pointed to a vehicle three metres up the road. "You're already walking me to me car just by standin' here." They stared at each other for an awkward second. "Why are you here?" she asked.
"I wanted to meet you," he said. "I was hoping - " A car horn beeped, and they were illuminated in bright lights.
"This guy annoying you?" a female voice shouted, invisible behind the lights. Jack tried to shield his eyes. A small car was rested on the kerb while Donna's friends checked to make sure he wasn't dangerous.
"Nah, I think we're fine," Donna shouted back. "Thanks for checkin', Carly. I reckon I can take 'im," Donna said, and grinned. Her entire face glowed from within. His heart caught in his throat and the blonde behind her came a bit closer.
"Can I - can I see you again?" he asked, unable to stop his voice from tripping. Her grin grew even bigger.
"Nah," she said, shaking her head. Her eyes took in the breadth of his shoulders, the lines of his face, and then settled on his eyes. "Guys like you don't know what to do with women like me," she said, and turned away, the twenty clutched in her hand.
"Please - Donna - " he reached out to put a hand on her shoulder. She stopped, her gaze pinning his hand.
"You know my name?"
"I heard them talking..."
"Well, then Jack," she reached up and peeled his fingers from her shoulder.
"Donna," he said, before she could say another word. She was going to cut him off again. "Please? Just coffee?"
"Oh for god's sake, Donna, just go out with the guy. Stop making it so bloody hard for 'im," her blonde friend sighed. "I'm cold, it's going to rain and just hurry up!"
"Stephie!" Donna hissed.
"What?" her friend implored. "Hurry. Up. Please!"
"Okay, stalker boy," Donna swung around to face him. "Doing anything tomorrow night?" she asked, her words like machine gun fire. "I'll be here, dead on seven, it's your only chance, and only cos I love Steffie like a sister. Got it?" She turned away, and now the key to the car was already in her hand.
"Yes Ma'am," he said, and his finger touched his brow in a salute. "Got it," he echoed softly as she got into her car, flashing him one last distrustful glance. His grin was wide enough to split melons.
***
He crossed his legs, and then shifted. He lifted his beer and then putting it down untouched. It was almost seven. His ankles crossed, and then uncrossed. Then he leaned forward to put both feet flat on the ground. Sean was here, up at the bar. Jack ignored the covert glances, worrying she might not come. He didn't want to be distracted when she arrived. She was making this all so difficult. If he didn't know she wanted him, he'd be less worried. If she remembered everything - well, now, that would be a different kettle of fish. He forced himself to lean back in the chair. He tucked his hands behind his head, and stretched his legs out under the low table. The chair was comfortable enough. He had come early, and selected the nook where Donna and her friends had been last night. He hoped he presented a casual, relaxed, mien.
"Hello, pretty boy," her voice was a complete surprise. He leapt to attention, almost tripping over his boots.
“Donna – please, take a seat. Would you like a drink?” he asked, surveying his flat, lukewarm beer. He turned to look at her. She sauntered past him and he ran a hand through his hair, unable to stop the grin. “You came,” he said.
“What, turn down a nice piece of beefcake like you?” she said with the cutting speed he was used to. “How could a girl ever turn the likes’o you down?” she sniggered, and took a seat directly opposite him. She was wearing a simple black dress with her trench coat. It brought out her feminine curves, highlighting her trim waist and full figure.
“Well, ah, you did,” he said, running his hand through his hair again. Where the hell was his calm? Where the hell was his control? He was the one with centuries of experience at this. He was flustered? He watched her take a seat, crossing her ankles and stretching out the same way he had been.
“I’ll have a gin and tonic then,” she said, her gaze a challenge.
“Gin and tonic,” he said.
“A drink?” she looked at him oddly. “You asked me if I …” He laughed. It just came bursting out of him. He was acting like a teenager, and had forgotten he had offered her a drink.
“Much more, and you’ll be blushin’,” she said in surprise.
“So much for Mister Machismo. You gotta work on that act some more,” she told him. Her gaze re-evaluated him, and he wondered what first impressions she was re-assessing. Her face softened.
“Listen. Jake,” she said.
“Jack,” he reminded her.
“Jack, you’re really not my type. I shouldn’t have come today, but this is my home pub,” she sat up, to talk to him earnestly.
“Oh Donna, how I’ve missed you,” he breathed, unaware the words slipped from his mouth.
“What did you say?” instantly her face hardened back into suspicion. “Who the hell are you? How can you miss me? I’ve never met you before in my life,” she said as she stood up. They stared at each other, his gaze frozen from his words, and hers hot with anger.
“I didn’t – I mean – please – just sit down,” he said. “Let’s start again. I’ll get some drinks, and then we can talk.”
“You think I’m going to just sit here and wait -,” she started to say, putting her hands on her hips.
“Please!” he shouted, hoping to deafen her into a momentarily silence. “Really, Donna – please,” he said more softly. Arms crossed, she sat down in the chair.
He brought the drinks back as quickly as he could. He had been trying to think of what to say next but still he came to a blank. Lying never worked with Donna. She could cut him to shreds. He needed Donna – but in more ways than one.
“I used to know someone just like you,” he said when he sat down. She was still tightly coiled in on herself, radiating suspicion. “I… I think I could have loved her. But she’s gone now. I couldn’t believe someone with the same hair colour could have the same name,” he said earnestly, re-arranging his drink coaster. He looked to her, his blue eyes intent.
“Same name, same hair?” she said. She gave him a look of pure disbelief.
“We were in New York,” he explained. “She helped me on a few cases. She was a police officer for the NYPD, and I needed someone on the inside at that time.” She snorted at that.
“Another me? Police officer? Pull the other one, its got bells on,” she relaxed enough to reach for her drink. “So what else did this other me do?”
“Swore like a trooper,” he lied. She laughed.
“Do you miss her then?” she asked.
“I do,” he said, and let the words resound in his head. “I don’t think I appreciated her enough, you know? We worked together, but I think I missed a chance I should have taken,” he said, giving her his most boyish grin. She smiled back.
“So when I saw you, I had to ask if you’d like a drink,” he finished. He raised his glass to her, and she tilted hers back at him.
“You don’t look like the sort of man to miss a chance,” she said. “You look like the sort of man who, if you got an inch, would run with a mile.” He flashed her his grin again.
“Pegged me rightly, ma’am,” he said, and saluted again.
“You did that last night, too,” she said with care. “You a military man then?” He nodded, and began to tell her some of his Earth based adventures.
***
“Can I see you again?” he asked, leaning against her doorway around her. She smiled up to him. One arm was above her, and he leaned on it. Their bodies were inches apart.
“What do you think I’m going to say?” she asked, her challenging gaze on his mouth. She wanted him to kiss her. He could feel it, knew all the signs, and knew just how much she wanted him to. He wanted to bury his hands in her hair, feel her cheeks in his palms as he tasted her, but held back. It didn’t seem right just yet. Donna – his Donna – had wanted an equal. His heart had been twisted too often tonight. She had shone before, bright and brilliant. And now she was like a dowdy hen again, flashes of brilliance sheathed in self-depreciating wit and knife-like jabs of intuition. If he made his move on her now, while she thought he should take her… this was wrong. He hated the Doctor with all his heart for a brief moment. It wasn’t any one’s fault. They were lucky she was still alive. Her green eyes were still staring into his. His gaze dropped to her mouth.
“You’ll tell me when and where you want me,” he said. He was the tiniest bit breathless, fighting every cell in his body to just lean in and take what he should have taken months ago. “If you want me,” he said, his voice quavering. His uncertainty was far too obvious. His hand reached up of its own volition. His hand cupped her cheek, her jaw nestled in his palm, and his thumb smoothed her lip.
“If I want you,” she said. “I’ll let you know.” Her grin made him laugh, and a second later she was through the door and gone. Cold air rushed against him. “I’ll see you at the pub next Saturday then,” she shouted through the door as she locked it. “Same time, same place, and don’t you dare be late!” He leaned against the doorjamb, laughing.
“I’m free tomorrow!” he shouted back. “Tomorrow’s fine with me!” He was rewarded with her laughter, and the lights above him flicked out.
***
She came on the Sunday. The sight of her hair as she passed the window made his heart shoot to the stars. He stood up, that he might welcome her, as a lady should be welcomed.
“You’re here, bomber boy?” she stood in the doorway, her hands on her hips. “I never said I was coming to see you!” she laughed. He grinned at her, but then looked down, to his feet, abashed by his enthusiasm for her company.
“Maybe I missed you,” he said and looked up. “I hoped…”
“Gave you that inch and now you’re runnin’,” she said, heading to the bar. “I’ll get you one of those cat’s piss beers you’ve been drinking, my shout,” she said, throwing her coat to him. He caught it, and put it on the chair next to his own, looking up to see her watching him. She turned away too fast, and he almost preened. She’d been checking him out. Things were looking good.
“Cat’s piss,” he murmured when she brought him the beer. She had also bought a gin and tonic, and something in a cocktail glass.
“I am here to see my friend Carly. You … just happen to be here in my home pub,” she reminded him. Her eyes crinkled. She seemed happy to see him.
“So you’re not here in case I might be?” he asked, risking life and limb with a grin.
“Arrogant male,” she snorted, and sipped her gin and tonic, sucking on the straw noisily. “Men always think things are always about them,” her eyes flashed with answering challenge. She fished out an ice cube and began to chew on it.
“I’m here! I got your message! Sorry I’m late, I hurried as soon as…” A brunette bounced up to Donna, mobile phone in hand. She was texting while she spoke. “Stephie wants to know how stalker boy went, by the…” she looked up as Donna covered her eyes with her free hand.
“Carly, stalker boy. Stalker boy, Carly,” she said without even removing her hand.
“Ah. Hi,” Carly said, sitting down in the chair opposite him. Her shopping landed around her on the chair and floor. She blushed bright red.
“Stalker boy?” he demanded. “Boy?” Donna dropped her hand. Her cheeks were flaring red.
“Stalker man doesn’t quite fall of the tongue so easily, stalker boy,” she shot at him. He was still mildly offended.
“You think of me as a boy?” Jack said. His voice was rising. He deliberately dropped it back down, and then took a mouthful of beer to slow him down. Cats piss. Dammit, she was right about that too. Donna clapped her hands over her eyes again.
“No problems with the stalker label?” she asked.
“I was getting to that, but my masculinity was impugned.”
“What does impugned mean?” Carly asked. Her blush had almost died away.
“Maligned,” Donna said. “Going for Mr Machismo again today are we?” she asked him. “I’ve got you pegged, you told me so yourself.”
“I’m not a stalker, nor a boy!” Donna and Carly laughed at him. He’d lost control of the situation – again. This was why he loved Donna. He could make women breathless with a grin, make men think twice about their sexuality, and yet with Donna he was stumped, stymied, and beaten. He laughed.
Link to part 2!
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Date: 2009-03-24 03:26 am (UTC)From:Loves it hon.
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Date: 2009-03-24 04:35 am (UTC)From:After swancon, regular movie nights I think.
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Date: 2009-03-24 04:38 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-03-24 04:38 am (UTC)From:I do like the confusion in jack :)
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Date: 2009-03-24 10:37 pm (UTC)From:You liked it!
:-)
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Date: 2009-03-24 06:46 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-03-24 10:35 pm (UTC)From:*makes firm decision*