FIC Torchwood - "As Time Goes By"

[fajrdrako]

Title: As Time Goes By
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack/Jack
Challenge: at_the_ritz weekly challenge #06: Remember Me
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Not mine, no claims, all property of the BBC.
Notes: Spoilers for "Captain Jack Harkness". Cross-posted to my LJ and at_the_ritz.


As Time Goes By

On a planet of crystalline trees and amber sunsets, Jack taught history and sang songs. The children called him the Pilot and the Old Ones called him Young Jack, since he looked half their age - they never tired of the humour of it. They said his memory was better than all the records in their libraries.

He told them about Pompeii, and the Blitz, and the day Earth's moon exploded. He told them about Homer and Shakespeare and Star Trek. He taught them a a song about angels dancing at the Ritz, and then he had to explain about angels, and nightingales, and city squares, and it was all part of that old world long passed away.

Later, he stood on a balcony overlooking the bay and the silvery water which caught the light of double moons. Petrin came to stand beside him. The song Jack had been teaching them all was being played in the room beyond the doorway on instruments of the thirty-first century, with its whispered intertwined harmonies and elusive counterpoint. "Jack? This music makes you sad?"

"Not at all," said Jack. "It reminds me of someone. We danced to that song once... only once. It's a memory that makes me happy. To love so deeply - to find someone worthy of such love - that's rare in any lifetime, regardless of its length. Love should be measured by its quality, not by the time we're given."

"They're good memories, then?"

"The best."

Petrin smiled. "Dance with me, then, and remember the person you loved. Remember your love."

Jack danced, smiling, heart and mind filled with thoughts of Captain Jack Harkness and that evening long ago. Cardiff, January, 1941. In all these centuries he had forgotten nothing: the texture of Jack's uniform, the touch of his fingers, the smell of his skin. He remembered the pain he had felt to know that Jack would be dead the next day, and equally he remembered the joy within him, that Jack was alive and real and right there in his arms. He remembered the timbre of Jack's voice when he said his name: Captain Jack Harkness. The name they shared. He remembered Toshiko's words: "He would have been so proud, that you took his name." Centuries passed, and the memory was as clear as yesterday, clearer than today.

He didn't need music to remind him.