Torchwood Is Yours 4/12

[humantales]

Title: Torchwood Is Yours
Author: humantales
Beta: quean_of_swords
Artist: rotaryphones
Character: Captain Jack Harkness, OC's
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,707
Warnings: AU
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: When Jack lands over a hundred years past where he was aiming, he has some time to fill. Why not spend it baby-sitting the Rift?

Masterlist

1871

It was February when a Blowfish came through the Rift. Jack groaned; the ones he'd met or heard about were thieves and troublemakers. The last thing he needed was one of them in Cardiff.

Fortunately, the alien was one of the stupider ones. Instead of trying to avoid Jack, it sat down to a nice meal, which Jack doubted it would consider paying for. It saw Jack before he could catch it, and went racing off; Jack following while throwing enough bills to cover the meal. The Blowfish would have picked one of his favourite restaurants.

Jack wasn't surprised went it headed toward the Bay. Although they mostly lived on land, the Blowfish were still comfortable in the water. When it dived in, Jack followed. He'd always been a strong swimmer and didn't foresee any problems. He hadn't counted on the combination of the cold water, his clothes weighing a lot more than his uniforms ever had, and the Blowfish actively fighting him. Slowly losing the ability to keep afloat, Jack kept struggling toward the surface and trying to swim back to shore, but he finally couldn't help breathing in the water and watching the world go dark.

He came to feeling someone going through his pockets. He pushed aside his shock at still being alive to roll over and see who it was. A skinny man, probably still in his teens and looking like he hadn't had a good meal in forever. He'd jumped back when Jack rolled over and looked like he was about to run in terror. Jack hadn't the heart to hassle him, knowing that, in the kid's position, he would have done the same.

"What's your name, kid?" Jack asked, checking his pockets. The only thing missing was his gun and he was pretty sure that was at the bottom of the bay.

"P-p-p-percy M-m-m-organ, sir," the kid said, his brown eyes huge. "You were dead, mister."

"Can't have been," Jack said, with his best conman smile. "If I'd been dead, I wouldn't be sitting up now, would I?"

Morgan shook his head, still looking like he wanted to run.

"Right, so this is just a misunderstanding. How many people are you planning to tell about our misunderstanding?" Jack let just a hint of threat into his voice. He wanted to keep the kid quiet, not scare him witless.

"No one," was the answer. "They'd just call me names."

Jack pulled out his wallet. The notes were soggy, but they were still usable. Handing Morgan what was probably a month's wages for him, Jack said, "Here's a 'Thank you' for pulling me out of the Bay. I was having a pretty hard time of it there, so you probably saved my life. And, if I can ever help you out, let me know. Captain Jack Harkness—"

"You run the Warehouse?" Morgan asked, his eyes even wider.

Jack nodded. "How d'you know about it?"

"All of us at the docks know," Morgan said. "Anything strange, the Captain at the Warehouse'll help you out. My uncle reckons you're an angel, come to help us in our time of need, with all the uncanny things happening, but my tad says you're just a man." The kid acted like he expected Jack to answer him.

Jack had dug one, count 'em one, explosive out of the Bay and relocated an Akan family that was eating the local fishing boats. "You've heard of me?" he asked.

"Oh, sure," the kid said, sounding much more relaxed. "Everyone has. Is there some kind of trouble? I can help you; I'd be glad to do it. Not much good at anything else," he muttered.

"Hey," Jack said. "I'm sure you're going to be a big help." As the kid's face lit up, Jack tried to think of something he could help with. "Er, did you see a, well, it'd look like a fish in a fancy suit, out there?"

Shaking his head, the kid seemed to remember that Jack was soaking wet. "Here, let's get you inside and into some dry clothes. I think my tad's got extras—"

"Not necessary, but thanks," Jack said. "I'd like to get home, to be honest. Can you help me get a cab?" How he'd find a cab here was beyond Jack, but it was worth a try.

Morgan snorted. "What'd they be doing down here? Nah, I'll borrow m'tad's wagon. D'you mind?"

Jack shook his head. He already smelled like fish.

It wasn't as simple as that, of course. First, they had to go to Morgan's house, which had Morgan's mother. She fussed over Jack and insisted he change into Evan's, her husband's, spare clothes so he wouldn't catch a chill, and added a warm brick to the wagon. "Evan'll be happy Percy was able to help," she told Jack. "We're all grateful to you, Captain, for keeping us safe." To Jack's bemusement, she tucked him warmly into the wagon and gave Percy strict instructions as to how to treat Jack back at the Warehouse.

Of course, once they got back to the Warehouse, it wasn't only Percy Morgan who had to be convinced that he didn't need to be tucked into bed. "You're Evan and Gwyneth's youngest?" Sarah asked, as she insisted on stripping Jack out of his borrowed clothes. "I'll have these returned to you tomorrow; I'll just wash them out. What was you doing in the Bay? In February?" Sarah was wrapping a hot brick into a sheet to put into the bed where Jack had no intention of going in the middle of the afternoon.

"It was a Blowfish," he told her.

"Oh," Sarah said. "Well, what made you think you could catch a fish by chasing it in the water and where do you think you're going?"

Jack started to argue, but got a look at the set of Sarah's face. "I'm fine," he insisted as he climbed into bed. "There's hours left in the day."

"There'll be more days if you take of yourself now," Sarah insisted. "And what do you think you're doing?"

This last was aimed at Percy, who was almost compulsively tidying everything in his path. "Sorry," he said, his cheeks going pink. "Just like things orderly."

"Like research results," she asked, her face lighting. Sarah loved working with Jack in the lab, but she hated doing paperwork, on either their research or Jack's activities. She wasn't fond of housework, but insisted that someone had to do it, and she didn't trust either Jack or little Mattie.

Which actually wasn't such a bad idea. Jack wasn't any fonder of paperwork, but he understood why it needed to be done. "How's your letters and numbers?" he asked. The illiteracy common in the poor had shocked him.

"I like reading and figuring," Percy said, staring at the floor.

"Are you tidy with papers?" Sarah asked. Jack shot her an amused look. Was she interested in Percy?

When Percy nodded, Jack said, "Y'know, I could really use someone around to help me keep things in order."

"Like what?" Percy asked, his eyes alight. "I know lots of people; I'll wager I know just who you need."

"I'm sure you do," Jack answered with a smile. "Want the job?"

Percy's eyes grew wide, but Jack was eventually able to convince him that, yes, Jack really did mean to hire the youngest son of a poor fisherman. In all the confusion, Jack was able to push the mystery of how he'd survived drowning out of his mind, but the fresh fish dinners Percy's mother sent were almost as good as Percy's organisational abilities. He would have been wasted as a fisherman, Jack thought, but he made a near-perfect aide.

Towards the end of March, Jack announced that he was taking a trip to London. "Can you two take care of things here," he asked Sarah, "or should I let the police know they're on their own?"

"Me," Mattie said, reaching up to Jack.

Jack smiled as he swooped him up into the air. "I'll bet you're gonna be a great help at keeping Sarah and Percy in line, little guy," he said, tickling the toddler's tummy. "But I don't think you're ready to fight Blowfish yet."

Mattie blew a raspberry as Sarah reached up for him. "You behave yourself," she told her nephew firmly. "Why are you going?"

"The Royal Albert Hall will be opening," Jack told her. "Rose used to talk about these Proms that were held there, and I wanted to see it."

Sarah's smile was kind, and she pointedly didn't say anything about Jack feeling closer to Rose. "Why don't you take Percy?" she asked. When Jack looked puzzled, she said, "When you're courting someone, you do things you like together. Sounds like this is just the thing."

"I don't think Percy would take to my courting him," Jack said, shaking his head. "And I suspect his family would have a lot to say about it, too."

Shrugging, Sarah said, "As long as you keep treating him respectfully, I don't think they'll care too much. There used to be talk about him, but working for you's killed it. You couldn't make it public, but you're pretty quiet about things. And before you ask, Percy's been mooning after you since he started here." Before Jack could say anything, she continued, "I'll talk to Richard and let him know you're taking Percy to London for special supplies. He gets better prices than you so no one'll think a thing about it." Matters settled, she took Mattie to wash his hands.

Jack looked after her, wondering if the Doctor had ever had his life managed so thoroughly. Then he laughed. Of course, he had. He'd had Rose.

Two weeks later, after several long days of shopping in London, Jack stopped walking into the Royal Albert Hall when he realised that Percy was no longer beside him. Turning, he saw the younger man standing where he had stepped out of the carriage, looking at the building with an expression of horror. Jack walked back to him. "What's wrong, Perce?" he asked.

"I'm just a poor fisherman," Percy said, his voice no more than a whisper. "I don't belong there."

"First," Jack said quietly, pulling the younger man out of the traffic, "no one here can tell you're anything but a young man of quality." When Percy started to argue, Jack said over him, "Welsh, of course, but anyone who can't enjoy those beautiful vowels is deaf."

Percy smiled faintly. "But I don't belong."

"Do you know why I wanted to come here so badly?" Jack asked. When Percy shook his head, Jack continued, "A woman I travelled with, from the future, the twenty-first century, told me about coming here every year for a series of concerts. She lived with her mum, just the two of them, in a housing estate, which is where people without a lot of money lived. She was a shop girl, but every year, she and her friends would come to the Proms that they had at the grand, prestigious Royal Albert Hall. I wish you could meet her, because she'd tell you that you belong anywhere you want to belong, and no one here has any right to tell you otherwise." Wishing he could take Percy's hand, Jack continued, "Come on, you'll be starting the tradition that the Royal Albert Hall belongs to all the people of the United Kingdom."

Wide-eyed, Percy followed Jack to their seats. Fascinated with actually seeing Queen Victoria, the emblem of sexual repression, in the flesh, Jack found himself disappointed with the acoustics of the hall. When he leaned over to remark on the echo to Percy, though, he stopped, and finally realised why Odine had enjoyed his company so much. Settling back in his seat, Jack relaxed to enjoy the music, lousy acoustics and all.

After a good late-night supper, Jack brought Percy back to the hotel. "I wish I could tell Rose about tonight," he said wistfully. "She'd have enjoyed hearing about it."

"I hope I was an adequate substitute," Percy said in a quiet voice.

"You're not a substitute at all," Jack told him with a smile. "In fact, thank you. I enjoyed the evening much more because of you." When Percy looked puzzled, Jack said, "To you, it was all fresh and beautiful. By letting me share tonight with you, it was for me as well. And I cherish anything fresh and beautiful."

"Even me?" Percy asked, looking up at Jack through his eyelashes.

Stroking his hand down Percy's face, Jack thanked whatever Fate that had abandoned him here, with beautiful boys and lovely girls. Music wasn't the only thing fresh and beautiful he experienced through Percy that night.


It took over two more months before Jack smiled down at his new weapons. His blaster had been lost over a year ago when it fallen under a horse's hooves during a fight and, although the local revolvers weren't bad, Jack missed the ability to fire repeated shots. If he'd remembered correctly, and he and Sarah had built them correctly, he now had a repeating air gun and cross bow. "Okay, kids," he said, grinning, "now we get to see if this works. Sarah, where's Mattie?"

"Down for his nap," Sarah said. "He's in his box."

Jack smiled. The 'box' was a large cube, with slats in the sides that allowed whoever was looking after the baby to check on them, but the baby couldn't get out. The sides were too high for the curious little boy, who was into everything he could manage and quite a bit that neither Jack, Sarah nor Percy could figure out. "Some babes are like that," Glynnis Morgan, one of Percy's sisters-in-law, had said when Jack had asked her at Sunday dinner. "They have to get into everything."

"Good. Let's hope he stays asleep." Because if he knew that the adults were working in the lab, he'd want to be right in the middle of it. Jack had already started looking into how engineers were trained in this time, and how he could supplement that training. "You two need to put these on." Jack handed Sarah and Percy each a pair of the goggles he'd had made and put on his own.

Percy tried to keep from laughing at the picture Sarah made, while Sarah didn't bother. "Why are we wearing these mad things?" she giggled.

"So if a projectile goes wild," Jack explained, "it doesn't poke our eyes out. I'm using peas, so I'm not worried about them really hurting us, but you never know."

The airgun worked even better than Jack had hoped and, even better, Sarah was a decent shot to start with. "Here come's the next one," Jack said as he put the air gun away. "Put the coats and hats on." They were heavy leather, as close to leather armour as Jack could manage in something that didn't look like armour. "These aren't sharp, but they could cause some damage if they hit us."

The crossbow didn't work quite as well as Jack had hoped, but he already had plans for improvement. So did Sarah, who was dictating her ideas to Percy. Sarah turned out to be the best shot of the three of them; all of her arrows hit the target. Percy, on the other hand, was hopeless. After the third try, when he once again shot arrows into everything but the target, he set it down. "I'll reload," he said. "I'm good at that."

"I'm just glad Jack thought to get us the coats," Sarah said, "even if they are heavy as sin." Jack was, too. Percy had managed to hit Sarah twice, once when he'd lost control of the crossbow and once, somehow, with a ricochet.

"Yeah, Percy, you're our reloader," Jack said.

Jack had been worried about how well his new weapons would work on Blowfish. Most of them would just leave when threatened, but some were more belligerent and wouldn't listen to reason. Unfortunately, the second group also tended to be armed and very dangerous. Fortunately, both the air gun and the crossbow worked very well on them.

1872