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fandomfrom3Title: I'm Awake (And You're Breathing)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
chicafrom3
Characters/Pairings: Martha Jones/Jack Harkness, with implied Martha/Ten and Jack/Ten
Rating: PG
Warnings: ...none really. Some very vaguely implied slash, some het kissing, vaguely dark themes.
Word Count: 600
Spoilers: Again, none really. "Utopia", to the extent that [character spoiler that everyone knows by now]. But is placed very vaguely in the timeline and doesn't specify much.
Summary: Jack and Martha are connected in all the wrong ways.
Author's Notes: Betaed by the AWESOMEsnarkaddict. ♥ Loads of gratitude to her. Also, credit and appreciation must be given to super_kc, whose challenge community ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
un_love_you is at least indirectly responsible for this fic, as well as the title and two of the lines within.
It's not something she's expecting.
Reflecting on it, she decides that she should have expected it. After all, she doesn't know much about Captain Jack Harkness, but she knows he's a hopeless flirt. Male, female, giant bug -- doesn't seem to matter. She kind of likes that. But she hadn't thought it through to this conclusion.
If she admits it to herself, that's a lie. She'd thought it through to exactly this conclusion. She just hadn't believed it. Still doesn't wholly believe it, really.
If she were willing to lie to herself, she'd say it was the Doctor's fault. That his perpetual ignorance of her feelings had blinded her to the idea that any other man could find her attractive.
She's not the type to lie to herself, and while the Doctor is certainly irritatingly oblivious, he's not responsible for her disbelief that this is really happening.
She's moved past dwelling on the thought of is this really happening? and is analyzing whether Captain Jack Harkness fits into her normal pattern of men -- he's certainly a bit gorgeous and rather camp, but he's not the kind to depend on her for an emotional crutch, is he? -- when he breaks the kiss and looks at her with that oddly intense expression.
"D'you think," she says breathlessly, "that this is really the best time for a snog?"
"It is never the wrong time for a snog," he says with a little laugh. "And you, Martha Jones, are incredibly snoggable."
She considers how odd that sounds in Jack's American accent. Then she wonders if something is wrong with her -- after all, she's just been thoroughly kissed by a gorgeous, suave, adventurous man, and she's thinking about his accent and syntax, and --
"And," he adds, "You think too much."
"Really? Wasn't aware that was a flaw." She still sounds breathless, she notes disapprovingly.
"Usually it's not." His hands travel down from her shoulders, brushing her arms, settling on her waist. "Kissing, though -- kissing isn't as much fun if you overthink. You're supposed to just stop. Don't think about the situation. Don't think about the world. Don't think about -- "
" -- the Doctor?"
It's the wrong thing to say, she thinks, or maybe it's exactly the right thing; Jack's face clouds over for just a moment, a heartbeat, a blink (don't blink). And then he says softly, "Just think about you, and me, and this kiss."
He kisses her again, and it's wonderful, it's definitely one of her top three kisses ever, and that includes that kiss with Johnny Depp that she's never actually had but has daydreamed about repeatedly. There's a very good chance that Johnny has got nothing on Jack Harkness.
Still, the kiss breaks again and she can't help herself: she asks, "What about the Doctor."
"What about him?"
"You implied to me that you love him."
"If loving the Doctor stopped me from ever loving anyone else," he counters calmly, "Then there would be something very, very wrong with the situation."
She raises an eyebrow. "Are you saying that you love me?"
He sighs, and lets her go, rather reluctantly, she thinks. "I hardly know you, Martha Jones," he says at last, softly, brokenly. "But I know you're beautiful, and clever, and strong, and -- "
"And?"
"And you remind me of me."
This time, she kisses him, and they don't break apart until it's time, again, to run for their lives.
And Martha's response to Jack's confession is unspoken, but they both hear it, loud and clear, even if they're the only two who ever will:
It isn't about us at all.
Author:
chicafrom3Characters/Pairings: Martha Jones/Jack Harkness, with implied Martha/Ten and Jack/Ten
Rating: PG
Warnings: ...none really. Some very vaguely implied slash, some het kissing, vaguely dark themes.
Word Count: 600
Spoilers: Again, none really. "Utopia", to the extent that [character spoiler that everyone knows by now]. But is placed very vaguely in the timeline and doesn't specify much.
Summary: Jack and Martha are connected in all the wrong ways.
Author's Notes: Betaed by the AWESOME
snarkaddict. ♥ Loads of gratitude to her. Also, credit and appreciation must be given to super_kc, whose challenge community un_love_you is at least indirectly responsible for this fic, as well as the title and two of the lines within.It's not something she's expecting.
Reflecting on it, she decides that she should have expected it. After all, she doesn't know much about Captain Jack Harkness, but she knows he's a hopeless flirt. Male, female, giant bug -- doesn't seem to matter. She kind of likes that. But she hadn't thought it through to this conclusion.
If she admits it to herself, that's a lie. She'd thought it through to exactly this conclusion. She just hadn't believed it. Still doesn't wholly believe it, really.
If she were willing to lie to herself, she'd say it was the Doctor's fault. That his perpetual ignorance of her feelings had blinded her to the idea that any other man could find her attractive.
She's not the type to lie to herself, and while the Doctor is certainly irritatingly oblivious, he's not responsible for her disbelief that this is really happening.
She's moved past dwelling on the thought of is this really happening? and is analyzing whether Captain Jack Harkness fits into her normal pattern of men -- he's certainly a bit gorgeous and rather camp, but he's not the kind to depend on her for an emotional crutch, is he? -- when he breaks the kiss and looks at her with that oddly intense expression.
"D'you think," she says breathlessly, "that this is really the best time for a snog?"
"It is never the wrong time for a snog," he says with a little laugh. "And you, Martha Jones, are incredibly snoggable."
She considers how odd that sounds in Jack's American accent. Then she wonders if something is wrong with her -- after all, she's just been thoroughly kissed by a gorgeous, suave, adventurous man, and she's thinking about his accent and syntax, and --
"And," he adds, "You think too much."
"Really? Wasn't aware that was a flaw." She still sounds breathless, she notes disapprovingly.
"Usually it's not." His hands travel down from her shoulders, brushing her arms, settling on her waist. "Kissing, though -- kissing isn't as much fun if you overthink. You're supposed to just stop. Don't think about the situation. Don't think about the world. Don't think about -- "
" -- the Doctor?"
It's the wrong thing to say, she thinks, or maybe it's exactly the right thing; Jack's face clouds over for just a moment, a heartbeat, a blink (don't blink). And then he says softly, "Just think about you, and me, and this kiss."
He kisses her again, and it's wonderful, it's definitely one of her top three kisses ever, and that includes that kiss with Johnny Depp that she's never actually had but has daydreamed about repeatedly. There's a very good chance that Johnny has got nothing on Jack Harkness.
Still, the kiss breaks again and she can't help herself: she asks, "What about the Doctor."
"What about him?"
"You implied to me that you love him."
"If loving the Doctor stopped me from ever loving anyone else," he counters calmly, "Then there would be something very, very wrong with the situation."
She raises an eyebrow. "Are you saying that you love me?"
He sighs, and lets her go, rather reluctantly, she thinks. "I hardly know you, Martha Jones," he says at last, softly, brokenly. "But I know you're beautiful, and clever, and strong, and -- "
"And?"
"And you remind me of me."
This time, she kisses him, and they don't break apart until it's time, again, to run for their lives.
And Martha's response to Jack's confession is unspoken, but they both hear it, loud and clear, even if they're the only two who ever will:
It isn't about us at all.
