Jack- November 26th, 2009
Dec. 8th, 2009 01:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ericadawn16Title: But Time Didn’t Stop
Characters: Jack, Martha Jack/Ianto
Rated: PG-13 ANGST COE Spoilers MPREG
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: Jack needs information from Martha.
Author's Note: Starts after COE.
Previous Segment: November 25th, 2009, Part Two
Masterlist: http://ericadawn16.livejournal.com/63337.html
November 26th, 2009
With less than a week until his appointment with Gwen, he called up Martha.
“Martha, voice of a Nightingale, where are you?” Jack asked while lying on the couch although he’d found out sideways felt the best.
“London, is that an invitation?” her voice inquired and he could just hear the smile in it.
“How about we meet for lunch this Saturday at Mother Mash?” he suggested with one hand on his bump.
“Sounds like a plan,” she agreed on the other end.
“Bye, Martha,” he told her and when she said her goodbye, hung up.
*******************************************************************
On Saturday, he sat at a booth in the corner and waited for her to appear while studying the menu. It was just as he remembered from the time he’d been here with Ianto. He was already working on a glass of milk when Martha sat down across from him. With a raised eyebrow, she commented, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drink milk before.”
“There’s a first time for everything,” he replied as the waitress came towards them.
“I suppose,” she conceded and studied him with concerned brown eyes. It’d been over five months since she’d seen him last. Her voice didn’t quite match her words as she said, “It’s good to see you again, Jack.”
“It’s always good to see you, Martha,” Jack said with a smile, “And how’s Tom?”
“Wonderful…” she answered as she took out the menu, “He’s in Asia, but I’ll have him back for the holidays.”
“What would you like to drink?” asked the teenaged girl.
“Ginger beer would be great,” Martha told her and she nodded, writing something on her pad.
“Any chance the two of you have sorted what you’d like?” she asked them.
“I know what I want,” Jack spoke and looked towards his companion who shrugged, “I’ll have the Colcannon Mash, but can you add cheddar cheese and mustard?”
The pleased expression on her face looked very forced as she replied, “Of course, and your main and gravy?”
“Fish pie and veggie gravy,” he responded and she grimaced before taking the menu.
“I’ll just have the cheesy mash with premium pork sausages and the liquor gravy,” Martha told her as she handed the menu back.
“Are you going to Gwen’s shower next week?” she questioned while turning her attention back to him, “Usually girls only, but for you, I’d bet she’d make an exception.”
He shook his head, saying, “I have other plans. Have you heard from Mickey?”
She gave him a look at what seemed like an abrupt change of topic before speaking, “Well, you probably heard when he joined UNIT but then, he started taking freelance jobs…”
“Freelance?” Jack clarified and picked up his glass for another gulp.
“From various locals and visitors,” she explained, “Honestly, I’m not even sure he’s on this planet at the moment.”
Her ginger beer was set in front of her.
“Well, good for him,” he spoke, “If he’s happy, that is…”
She put her hand on top of his.
“Are you happy, Jack?”
He took a deep breath because this was Martha and she was one of the few that he had no chance of successfully lying to.
“I want to be, but it’s hard sometimes because…,” he hesitated before continuing, “because he’s not here and I wish he were so much…”
Her hand squeezed his.
“Sometimes, I look at the future and I can’t wait. It’s exciting,” Jack spoke using his hands, “but other times, all I can think about is how he’s not here and he should be.”
“He’d want you to live though…”
“He made me promise to remember him. I made a promise that even in a thousand years, I’ll still remember him,” he stated and finished off the white liquid.
“But living would be one of the best ways of remembering him. Using all that love you had with him and passing it on to someone else. Look, I know I’ve been married less than a year, but…” her words trailed off and he must have given off an expression without realizing it, “What is it?”
She might not even know. There was no telling how much it was spread.
“There weren’t any rumors about Ianto and me? Did you see his headstone?” he asked and tried to keep his voice steady.
“Well, there was one wild one about the time of his funeral that you were, in fact, a married man, but…” Martha continued but her brown eyes grew bigger, “That was true?”
He fidgeted with his husband’s watch as he nodded and explained, “It was the only way they’d release his body to me. I went back and changed all the records like we’d done it in March…March 20.”
The silence of their table was an island in the midst of a sea of sound as she rubbed her thumb over his hand and gave him a sympathetic look.
“Still, being married and every married person I know would say the same,” she said, looking into his blue eyes so he couldn’t turn away, “If I die first, I’d want Tommy to be happy. I know he’d grieve. I’d grieve him, but if he meets a girl and fancies her, it’s not because he’s forgotten me. It’s because he’s human and knows I don’t want him to be dead, too. Because isn’t this what this is? If you’re not living, then you must be dead inside.”
He did feel dead inside except for that one notable exception.
“Jack,” Martha spoke and took his other hand so she had both, “I don’t want you to be dead. You’re going to live forever and that’s a very long time to just be going through the motions.”
Her words were eerily similar to Rhi’s.
“I know, I know he’d want me to be happy, but it’s just…hard, being alive when they’re not,” he admitted and knew she could almost understand because of what she saw during that year.
“I know, I know,” she said and caressed both his hands.
“Here you go,” the waitress announced, arriving at their booth with the plates, “Colcannon Mash special and cheesy mash.”
There was no mistaking which food was whose. Jack’s appeared to have almost every color of the rainbow.
“Anything else? Another milk?” she asked and the man nodded before piling the potato mixture on top of the pie and dumping the gravy on top. She appeared to retreat from their very eyes.
“That is…bloody disgusting and I’m a doctor so I’ve seen disgusting. That is a fish pie underneath mash with milk, butter, cabbage, onions and cheddar cheese and mustard topped by a gravy of veg, tomato puree and horseradish,” the young woman complained as he forked up a large portion that he stuck in his mouth.
He chewed and swallowed with a smile at the way she grimaced.
“I have never seen anyone willingly eat that sort of thing who wasn’t six or pregnant…”
The man couldn’t help flinching at the last word and she stopped talking. Her mouth gaped open.
“You’re pregnant!” she exclaimed and he hoped the noisy children masked what she said.
“No, no, I’m not,” he argued and shook his head, “Why would you even think that?”
“But it fits; the milk-drinking, the odd cravings, you sounded like you were hiding something when you called on my birthday and I can tell you’ve gained weight since June,” Martha stated all the facts, but it would be better if she didn’t know.
He shook his head and maintained, “No, I’m not.”
“Oh, but you are,” she contested with her face lit up with happiness, “How far along?”
It was a contagious joy.
“Twenty-eight weeks,” Jack admitted with a grin. Shock radiated over her face.
“You’re already in your third trimester, that’s fantastic,” the young woman congratulated him and seemed to be suppressing the urge to lean over the table for a hug, “and no one else knows?”
“You’re the first person I’ve told,” he confessed and had another bite off his plate.
“Can I touch it?” she asked with a hopeful expression.
“Public place, Martha,” he reminded her, but she was undeterred. Instead, with a roll of her brown eyes, she said, “I meant your baby bump, you must have one if you’re twenty-eight weeks.”
“I know and how do you think it would look if you’re patting my belly in a public place?” he inquired and she acquired that puppy look that Ianto was quite good at also, “Fine, but you’ll have to scoot beside me on the bench so it’s not so obvious.”
November 28th, 2009
Characters: Jack, Martha Jack/Ianto
Rated: PG-13 ANGST COE Spoilers MPREG
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: Jack needs information from Martha.
Author's Note: Starts after COE.
Previous Segment: November 25th, 2009, Part Two
Masterlist: http://ericadawn16.livejournal.com/63337.html
November 26th, 2009
With less than a week until his appointment with Gwen, he called up Martha.
“Martha, voice of a Nightingale, where are you?” Jack asked while lying on the couch although he’d found out sideways felt the best.
“London, is that an invitation?” her voice inquired and he could just hear the smile in it.
“How about we meet for lunch this Saturday at Mother Mash?” he suggested with one hand on his bump.
“Sounds like a plan,” she agreed on the other end.
“Bye, Martha,” he told her and when she said her goodbye, hung up.
*******************************************************************
On Saturday, he sat at a booth in the corner and waited for her to appear while studying the menu. It was just as he remembered from the time he’d been here with Ianto. He was already working on a glass of milk when Martha sat down across from him. With a raised eyebrow, she commented, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drink milk before.”
“There’s a first time for everything,” he replied as the waitress came towards them.
“I suppose,” she conceded and studied him with concerned brown eyes. It’d been over five months since she’d seen him last. Her voice didn’t quite match her words as she said, “It’s good to see you again, Jack.”
“It’s always good to see you, Martha,” Jack said with a smile, “And how’s Tom?”
“Wonderful…” she answered as she took out the menu, “He’s in Asia, but I’ll have him back for the holidays.”
“What would you like to drink?” asked the teenaged girl.
“Ginger beer would be great,” Martha told her and she nodded, writing something on her pad.
“Any chance the two of you have sorted what you’d like?” she asked them.
“I know what I want,” Jack spoke and looked towards his companion who shrugged, “I’ll have the Colcannon Mash, but can you add cheddar cheese and mustard?”
The pleased expression on her face looked very forced as she replied, “Of course, and your main and gravy?”
“Fish pie and veggie gravy,” he responded and she grimaced before taking the menu.
“I’ll just have the cheesy mash with premium pork sausages and the liquor gravy,” Martha told her as she handed the menu back.
“Are you going to Gwen’s shower next week?” she questioned while turning her attention back to him, “Usually girls only, but for you, I’d bet she’d make an exception.”
He shook his head, saying, “I have other plans. Have you heard from Mickey?”
She gave him a look at what seemed like an abrupt change of topic before speaking, “Well, you probably heard when he joined UNIT but then, he started taking freelance jobs…”
“Freelance?” Jack clarified and picked up his glass for another gulp.
“From various locals and visitors,” she explained, “Honestly, I’m not even sure he’s on this planet at the moment.”
Her ginger beer was set in front of her.
“Well, good for him,” he spoke, “If he’s happy, that is…”
She put her hand on top of his.
“Are you happy, Jack?”
He took a deep breath because this was Martha and she was one of the few that he had no chance of successfully lying to.
“I want to be, but it’s hard sometimes because…,” he hesitated before continuing, “because he’s not here and I wish he were so much…”
Her hand squeezed his.
“Sometimes, I look at the future and I can’t wait. It’s exciting,” Jack spoke using his hands, “but other times, all I can think about is how he’s not here and he should be.”
“He’d want you to live though…”
“He made me promise to remember him. I made a promise that even in a thousand years, I’ll still remember him,” he stated and finished off the white liquid.
“But living would be one of the best ways of remembering him. Using all that love you had with him and passing it on to someone else. Look, I know I’ve been married less than a year, but…” her words trailed off and he must have given off an expression without realizing it, “What is it?”
She might not even know. There was no telling how much it was spread.
“There weren’t any rumors about Ianto and me? Did you see his headstone?” he asked and tried to keep his voice steady.
“Well, there was one wild one about the time of his funeral that you were, in fact, a married man, but…” Martha continued but her brown eyes grew bigger, “That was true?”
He fidgeted with his husband’s watch as he nodded and explained, “It was the only way they’d release his body to me. I went back and changed all the records like we’d done it in March…March 20.”
The silence of their table was an island in the midst of a sea of sound as she rubbed her thumb over his hand and gave him a sympathetic look.
“Still, being married and every married person I know would say the same,” she said, looking into his blue eyes so he couldn’t turn away, “If I die first, I’d want Tommy to be happy. I know he’d grieve. I’d grieve him, but if he meets a girl and fancies her, it’s not because he’s forgotten me. It’s because he’s human and knows I don’t want him to be dead, too. Because isn’t this what this is? If you’re not living, then you must be dead inside.”
He did feel dead inside except for that one notable exception.
“Jack,” Martha spoke and took his other hand so she had both, “I don’t want you to be dead. You’re going to live forever and that’s a very long time to just be going through the motions.”
Her words were eerily similar to Rhi’s.
“I know, I know he’d want me to be happy, but it’s just…hard, being alive when they’re not,” he admitted and knew she could almost understand because of what she saw during that year.
“I know, I know,” she said and caressed both his hands.
“Here you go,” the waitress announced, arriving at their booth with the plates, “Colcannon Mash special and cheesy mash.”
There was no mistaking which food was whose. Jack’s appeared to have almost every color of the rainbow.
“Anything else? Another milk?” she asked and the man nodded before piling the potato mixture on top of the pie and dumping the gravy on top. She appeared to retreat from their very eyes.
“That is…bloody disgusting and I’m a doctor so I’ve seen disgusting. That is a fish pie underneath mash with milk, butter, cabbage, onions and cheddar cheese and mustard topped by a gravy of veg, tomato puree and horseradish,” the young woman complained as he forked up a large portion that he stuck in his mouth.
He chewed and swallowed with a smile at the way she grimaced.
“I have never seen anyone willingly eat that sort of thing who wasn’t six or pregnant…”
The man couldn’t help flinching at the last word and she stopped talking. Her mouth gaped open.
“You’re pregnant!” she exclaimed and he hoped the noisy children masked what she said.
“No, no, I’m not,” he argued and shook his head, “Why would you even think that?”
“But it fits; the milk-drinking, the odd cravings, you sounded like you were hiding something when you called on my birthday and I can tell you’ve gained weight since June,” Martha stated all the facts, but it would be better if she didn’t know.
He shook his head and maintained, “No, I’m not.”
“Oh, but you are,” she contested with her face lit up with happiness, “How far along?”
It was a contagious joy.
“Twenty-eight weeks,” Jack admitted with a grin. Shock radiated over her face.
“You’re already in your third trimester, that’s fantastic,” the young woman congratulated him and seemed to be suppressing the urge to lean over the table for a hug, “and no one else knows?”
“You’re the first person I’ve told,” he confessed and had another bite off his plate.
“Can I touch it?” she asked with a hopeful expression.
“Public place, Martha,” he reminded her, but she was undeterred. Instead, with a roll of her brown eyes, she said, “I meant your baby bump, you must have one if you’re twenty-eight weeks.”
“I know and how do you think it would look if you’re patting my belly in a public place?” he inquired and she acquired that puppy look that Ianto was quite good at also, “Fine, but you’ll have to scoot beside me on the bench so it’s not so obvious.”
November 28th, 2009
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Date: 2009-12-12 04:51 am (UTC)Thank you!