callistra | Courting Donna

Title: Courting Donna Part 2
Author: Callisto Shampoo
Rating: No sex yet! Some snogging occurs!
Length: 3700 words
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.

Part One is HERE
This leads straight off Part One. Don't bother to read this until you have read Part One.
Feel free to crit as much as you like. Be as picky as you like. Comments welcome!

“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.
“Bomberman, then?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. He looked down, to his black pants and brown bomber jacket. He shrugged.
“You could always call me Jack,” he suggested. A shadow fell over them, and every one’s eyes were drawn upwards.
“Hi Sean,” Carly said, sitting up straight in her chair.
“Sean,” Jack said, giving him a nod. Sean dropped a newspaper onto their table as he too a seat next to the brunette. The headline caught Jack’s eye – HIDDEN TREASURE OFF BARBADOS. He too a corner of the paper and pulled it closer to read the fine print while Carly introduced Donna to her ‘new man.’
“And this is Jack,” she also introduced him. Jack looked up, and Sean gave him a nod back.
“We’ve met,” Sean said.
“Pleasure to meet you, Sean,” Donna said, giving Jack a reproachful look. What, did she want him to be friendlier to the guy? Any friendlier and he’d be sitting naked in his lap. He snorted at the idea and skimmed the article.
“So have you been in London long?” Carly asked Sean as they settled in to chat. Jack tuned them out, turning to look at Donna instead. She was already looking at him, a half smile on her face.
“You’re thinking about me,” he said in satisfaction. He sat up, pushing his chest out.
“I was not,” she said. Her blush made a liar of her. “Okay, so fine, maybe I was. Are you sure we’ve never met before?” she asked him. “You seem so familiar.”
“Well, I do live in London, maybe you have seen me around.”
“Eight million people, and you think you stand out?” Donna said. She laughed and sipped on her straw. “You have a bit of an ego on you, bomber man.”
“Just a bit,” he said with a grin. “You’re the one who looked like you were dreaming of me,” he pointed out. She flushed even more. Now he was even more interested. Had she been daydreaming of him? Or maybe at night she had dreamt of him? He imagined her, white flowing nightgown, red hair curled over cream pillows, and then imagined himself next to her.
“Bomber boy,” her voice crooned. “Bomber boy,” he blinked in surprise. She was glaring at him, trying to call his attention back to the pub. “Back yet? Where did you disappear off to?” she demanded. “What sort of a conversation do you call this?’
“Ahhh…” he said. He was off kilter yet again. It was a heady feeling. “I ahhh… usually I’m much better at talking to people,” he tried to explain.
“Yeah, I expect you are,” she agreed. “So what a man like you doing in a bar like this?”
“I’m working on a case for a friend. He’s hunting down some data on temporal disturbances along the river,” he said without thinking. She started to laugh at him.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry, but you just said temporal disturbances, like… there’s problems in time or somethin’?” her voice trailed away as he failed to laugh with her. He snapped his mouth shut. She blinked at him in surprise. “You’re not saying … you’re not… did you mean what you said?”
“Yeah, I did,” he said, letting his head drop. He stared at his hands for a moment. Sean and Carly were still deep in conversation, and he could only hope they hadn’t heard a word.
“But that’s not for real, mate. That’s not real. So what are you really here for?”
“I’m searching for someone. Something. I don’t quite know.” Talking about his work would keep him from making mistakes. He hoped.
“Now that sounds a lot more interesting,” she said. “What sort of person or thing? How are you looking for it when you’re here, chattin’ up me?”
“It’s a friend in need. I need help finding out what’s going on. I took the chance -,” he looked up. “I took the chance you might like to come on an adventure with me.” His hands locked together.
“An adventure? Me? What bloody good would I be on an adventure?” she asked. Her green eyes were fastened to his.
“Oh, come now,” he said, and relaxed back into the chair. He had her. She was interested. He crossed his legs at the ankles.
“You need someon’ who can type a hundred words a minute, what sort of adventure would that be?”
“Traipsing around in the dark. Danger. Possible death. A chance for some excitement, perhaps?” He was teasing, spinning things out slowly and deliberately. The more he could get her talking, the more she would be up for the challenge.
“What makes you think I’d like more excitement in my life? Maybe I have enough excitement already,” she said, thumping her glass down on the newspaper. “You’re making a lot of assumptions, bomber boy.”
“I know. I am in a hurry. The problems are occurring along your street. I need a native guide, Donna. Meeting you was pure luck,” he said.
“Well, it’s a good thing I got promoted only last week,” she said, her words bitter.
“Promoted?” he asked. “I heard your toasts but …”
“I’ve been ‘let go,” she said, her fingers forming quotation marks. “’Terminated.’ This was a new one – ‘free to explore my own possibilities,’” she snorted, and took another drink. “Didn’t know what hit ‘em. I showed them,” she muttered into her drink, her gaze lowered. “Pack o’ lying rats, the lot of ‘em.”
“Come on,” he said, standing up. He put his hand out to her. She stared at his hand.
“What for?’ she demanded.
“Let’s go for a walk. I’ll tell you more of the problems.”
“I came to catch up with Carly –,“ she said, turning to her friend. Carly waved at her, deep in conversation with Sean. After a second, she put her hand into his. He tugged her up with a little too much force, and she crashed into him as he pulled her from the chair. He steadied her, delighted at the feel of her against the length of him.
“Calm down, Bomberboy,” she said, peeling herself off him and dusting her hips.
“Please, Bomberman at least,” he said, raising his hands imploringly. She picked up her jacket, and giggled.
“Bomberman,” she said and giggled again. “Like the old computer game?” She handed him his own jacket and he sighed.
“Jack, perhaps. Call me Jack. Call me Captain Jack.”
“Captain Jack? Captain of what?” she asked as she waved goodbye to Carly.
“I’m a pilot,” he said. “I’ve flown all sorts of craft.” Outside the rain has settled into a steady drizzle. Tiny droplets settled into Donna’s red hair like diamonds. He reached out and touched one with a fingertip, smearing the drop into a drip, and his finger followed the line of curl around her face.
“You’re a bit of a touchy feeling thing, aren’t you?” she said, her voice soft in wonder. She wasn’t afraid at all. She just stood still, accepting his almost touch. He breathed out, loosening his breath in a sudden exhalation.
“I can be,” he said, realising that once again they were so close he could just bend down and…
“What are you waiting for?” she said, her voice was uncharacteristically soft.
“You’ll tell me when, and where,” he whispered.
“Right here,” she whispered back. “Right now,” her gaze dared him. He closed his eyes and leaned down, the only point of contact between them the softness of her lips against his. His heart drowned out everything else. He shook with self-control, inhaling the scent of her and feeling her warmth. His mind sought out tiny details to remember, the quickening of her breath, the movement of her chest as she too waited… for something unnamed.
He drew back, opening his eyes to look into hers.
“Was that everything you wished for, ma’am?” he asked, glad his voice was firm.
“That’ll do for now,” she seemed equally shaken. But when they started walking again, their fingers were entwined.
“So what are we investigating again?” she asked as they walked down the road.
“Is that a polite way of asking what’s a boy like me doing in Chiswick?” he said and laughed.
“Boy?” Donna said and leaned into him, smiling up at him. “I thought you’d sorted me out on that issue,” she said.
“I thought I had too. Maybe I need to sort myself out on that issue,” he said in mild amusement. “We’re looking for the originator of strange noises and things that go bump in the night,” he told her.
“Oooo, is this like a horror movie then? Where I get to scream and squeal and grasp your knee so tightly you complain about it?” she said with enthusiasm. He grinned at her.
“Only if I’m lucky,” he said.
“I thought you were always lucky, Bomberboy,” she said. He gave her a glance but didn’t respond.
“Down at Chiswick house. Down the back, there are some weird things happening. One of my friends called me about it.” The air was bracing, their breaths visible in the drizzle. He ran his hand through damp hair.
“I missed this when I was in New York,” he said. “It wasn’t like London at all. Lots of people, but nothing like home.”
“I’ve never been anywhere,” Donna said. Jack was silent, wishing he could say something but unable to find the right words.
“Here we are,” he said as they turned another corner. “Chiswick House.” Down the end of the lane he could see the beginnings of the Chiswick House property.
“We used to come here as a kid,” she said. “Actually, we used to come this particular way, so we could sneak into the back gardens. They had apple trees and pears trees with little plaques, saying things like “Established 1870” and junk like that. Still tasted good but.”
“You’ve lived in Chiswick your entire life?” he asked. He tried to blow a smoke ring, but walking through the resulting misty tendrils broke it.
“I went to Strathclyde once,” she said with a twisted grin. “I was a bit ambitious – I was only six at the time,” she seemed amused by her younger self. “I was a bit headstrong back then.”
“Back then? Like you’re not headstrong any more?” he laughed at her.
“What would you know, bomber boy?” she asked, and her hand squeezed his tightly. “I am shy, meek and retiring.” They both laughed.
“I can’t think of any other shy, meek or retiring lass quite like yourself,” he said. Holding her hand was warming more than just his palm. They got to the park and paused to absorb the beauty before them.
“I never noticed this as a kid,” she said. “It’s so beautiful. Just beautiful.” Magnificent trees stretched above them, spindly twigs reaching for the clouds. Leaves covered the grass before them, and she kicked some of them to see the colours dance before her.
“I didn’t expect our second date to end up being a picnic,” he said, drawing a deep breath and looking down the avenue of trees.
“Did you bring something to eat, then?” she asked.
“I’ve got this,” he said and pulled a chocolate bar from his jacket pocket. “Does this count?” She laughed and their heads bent together as they fiddled with the chocolate, hindering more than helping but making them laugh so hard he was left gasping.
“Gottit,” she said in satisfaction, pulling away with the bulk of the chocolate bar.
“I’d wrestle you for that,” he followed her a step behind.
“Dare you to,” she threw over her shoulder at him. He grinned, readying to tackle her so he would be her landing cushion.
“I didn’t mean it!” she shrieked and ran forward a few more paces, and then leaned against a tree, gasping and laughing. “Don’t you dare!” she punctuated each word with a gasp. He bounced up to her, grasping the tree around her.
“Dare me to what?” he asked, his breathing already evened out. She stood up, and rolled her eyes at him.
“I never said it,” she said, lying with glee. “I never did! You can’t prove a thing!”
“I can’t, now, can I?” he said, his gaze moving from her flushed cheeks to her mouth, talking too fast again.
“Well are you going to stand around all day or are you going to hurry up and kiss me?” she said. He paused, once again a whirl of insecurity and desire. He bent to taste her.
“Close your eyes,” she whispered. He would follow any order she gave. He did so, glad that this time his arms were already around her. It was easy to slip his hands from the tree and … then she opened her mouth, and her tongue slipped against his mouth. He forgot the tree.
“You taste like chocolate,” he said, breaking their kiss long enough to lift a hand to her skin.
“Enough talking,” she said. Her hands ran up his back, then under his arms and her cold fingers burned his face. He froze, reminded of too many frozen bodies from his past, but her mouth was hot and melted his reserve. His wrists knocked her hands from him as he deepened the kiss, thrusting a knee between her thighs and pressing her into the tree. Her moan was music to him; an assent and a meeting of desire. He wanted to slow down and savour her, but every part of him demanded all of her, and all of her right this instant. He consumed her, tasting, licking, nipping and leaving her breathless with hunger. His hands sucked the warmth from her cheeks, but his kisses brought the flush of desire. Her green eyes became moss colour as she met his mouth with her own, curving her body around his. He slowed down, his thumbs resting around the curve of her cheekbones, and struggled to find sanity, thought, or even sentience.
“Why did you stop,” she asked, breathless.
“We’re in a park,” he whispered, pressing her against him and his mouth against her ear. “There’s children coming, I can hear them,” he closed his eyes and drowned in the scent of her hair.
“I can’t hear anything,” she said. “But I’m nice and warm right here.” He could feel the movement of her ribcage as she chuckled. His hands slipped from her face and down to her waist, then around her. He pulled her so tightly against him she squeaked. He let her go.
“Now I’m cold,” she complained, smiling. He rolled his eyes at her, but tucked his hands firmly behind his back. His coat hung open, and he hoped she was admiring his chest. He grinned, and puffed a little. She looked – all the way up and all the way down, and then stepped against him, her hands sliding under the coat.
“Whoa!” he said in surprise. Behind him he could hear the delighted shrieks of kids running around the park.
“Shhh, I am sure I’m allowed snuggling after a kiss like that,” she said to his shoulder. He let his arms come forward, and held her tightly again. Strands of red hair blew across his nose. He’d been stupid before. He should have appreciated the treasure in his arms more. He drew on her strength the way she was drawing on his warmth. A lifeline. Sanctuary. This situation was getting dangerous. Yet he still could not bring himself to say anything that could change this moment.
“So, now that we’re here, let’s go looking for whatever you said you were looking for,” she was the first one to speak. He let her go, and their hands found each other again. He smiled down at the ground, glad he wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to let go.
“Some strange noises… we have to go down the back of the building itself, and then about four paces to the west. Apparently, it’s complicated,” Jack said, looking into the distance to the House.
“Complicated?” she asked as they started walking.
“Well, when he rang me, I heard the noises clearly through the telephone, but he said that to him, it was faint, whispery type of thing. But I heard it more clearly than I can hear you,” he darted her a glance. “I heard it calling my name. That was creepy.”
“So it’s making words then, a human voice?” she asked.
“Yes. Singing. Demanding rum. Some very odd demands. I have no ideas, no theories until I’ve been to investigate this myself.” She nodded in understanding. They walked in companionable silence until they came to the building. From this angle, all she could see was one long white wall. Up close she could see the dents and cracks in it from Time. They wandered about, looking for the exact spot.
“Wait!” Jack’s grip on her tightened. They both froze. “I can hear something,” he said, cocking his head to listen.
“What is it?” she asked.
“It sounds like… shouting. Hang on… there’s singing… can you hear anything?” Jack asked, frowning. Donna shook her head.
“Nowt, nothing, nada. Can’t hear a thing,’ she shook her head. “Waitaminute… I heard something … when I look this way..” she turned around, facing her head in the same direction as jack. “Just not clearly.”
“I can hear it pretty clearly. He can’t sing at all,” Jack said morosely. The person sounded drunk – or wishing they were drunk. Rum and pirates? The voice was lapsing into a melancholy story about pirates and… rum? “I have an idea,” he said, and grasped Donna around the waist and lifted her up. They stared at each other, eye to eye.
“A pirate’s life for me? I always thought that was some sort of metaphor,” she said, her accent showing the more distracted she was.
“So you can hear it – up here. You’re facing east and I’m facing west but we can both still here it.”
“Captain Jack, Captain Jack, knitted the hair from his back, rode two turtles from the sea, damn your eyes what a God was he…”
“Please put me down. You were right about his musical talent,” she said, and slithered down him. “There were some benefits to that, but just…’ she shook her head, “not enough.” She crinkled her nose. “Why is he singing your name?”
“I have no clue,” he said, listening to the slurring voice. “That’s why Julia thought to ring me.” He twisted about, taking a few steps forward and then backwards. “My friend said the first time he heard it, the voice was a lot quieter. Now it’s much louder. So it’s getting stronger, whatever is happening.” Donna shivered, sticking her hands deep into her pockets.
“Maybe this is a ghost story,” she said. “Maybe someone was killed here, and they’re haunting this very spot. Can I grab your knee and start squealing soon?” she gave him a smile.
“Any time, Donna Noble, any time,” he grinned back. “But this particular ghost is also turning up somewhere else too. Two places at once.”
“Two places? I didn’t know ghosts could do that,” Donna said.
“They can’t, that’s why I am thinking it’s not a ghost.”
“You seem very certain of that,” she noted. He gave her a grin for a reply.
“I’ll come back later and see if I can record this. I didn’t think it would be so easy to find,” he said, looking around. He should be able to locate this spot again with his eyes closed.
“Would you like to come to the second place? It’s right near my friend’s home,” he said. “I can get my recording equipment. She’s left the boat to me for a few days while she’s in France.”
“Boat?” Donna sounded… curious? Horrified? Both?
“Houseboat,” he said, trying to offset any fears she might have with authority in his voice.
“Houseboat… you sleep in a houseboat?” she sounded like she didn’t quite believe him.
“Yes, I’m staying at Julia’s house. Are you coming along?”
“House boat,” she said, as though testing each word. “House. Boat. Jack. Captain. Donna. Noble.” She looked thoughtful.
“Ahhhh… yes…” was he going to lose her now? Over something he had no idea would upset her? Was she upset? He couldn’t tell. She was definitely adding import to her words…
“Yo hoooooo! A pirate’s life for me,” someone slurred away. “House boat? What’s a bloody damned houseboat?” Jack frowned.
“Did you hear that?” he asked. She shook her head. “The voice – it said something about house boats.”
“Is it like a mansion? Full o’ rum, on a boat? Makes keeping an even keel a bit difficult,” the voice ruminated. “Like one o’ them flat ones up the river maybe. Got a whole casino on one o’ those. Full o’ rum. Good casino, that.”
“Now it’s wondering if it’s full of rum,” Jack said. “This really does sound like an old friend of mine. I think we should go and get some of my equipment as soon as we can. You still up for a bit more adventure?” he asked, putting his hand out to her.
“Of course!” she exclaimed, putting her hand into his. The trust in her eyes made him pause to savour.
“Then let’s go,” he said with a grin. “I expect your friends are wondering where we are by now,” he said.
“Oh, Carly knows I can take care of myself,” Donna said, swinging their hands between them. “Meek and mild women like me know how to do that sort of thing.”

Part 3 here!