Title: As the Daylight Falls
By: _usakeh_
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica/Torchwood
Pairing: Dark!Jack/Felix
Rating: R
Author's Note: As you'll realize immediately, the version of Jack Harkness I'm writing in this story is very dark compared to the character we know and love in Torchwood. (Consequently, I will be referring to him, imaginatively enough, as Dark!Jack.) I decided to keep it a crossover as opposed to simply making him an OC based on Jack, however, because I think it certainly could be Jack, simply under somewhat different circumstances.

Jack Harkness slammed his empty glass down and waved his hand to summon over Rory, the bartender.

“Another,” he muttered. Rory raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment.

“Here you are,” Rory said, handing Jack his next drink. Jack merely nodded. He didn’t have it in him to say more, not now. Not when he was in such a bad withdrawal that even alcohol didn’t dull the pain. Jack spilled some of his drink as he raised the glass up to his lips, so he drained the rest of the glass in one shot. Maybe that would do the trick. No, he realized: that was wishful thinking. Only one thing, and one thing alone, would do this trick now. He needed more drugs. And he needed them now. With difficulty, Jack got to his feet. He didn’t have any money, and the bar was practically empty. It was too late; anybody with enough money to pay for the services he offered had already left. Jack cursed himself for having missed his last opportunity. He was in no position to be turning down anybody with means. But before he’d been able to stop himself, he’d responded rudely, thus chasing away a potential client.

Jack stepped back, slowly, from the bar. He’d check in the bathroom. Rich users went in there to shoot up, or snort, and most of the time they left behind little souvenirs. Bits of white powder in crumbled plastic bags, most often. He’d been disgusted with himself the first time he’d gotten down on his hands and knees to look for them; now, it was pretty much part of the routine.

“Hey, Jack,” Rory called to him from behind the bar. Rory probably thought he’d had a stash hidden away in the back; if only, Jack thought, he was right this time. “Remember our agreement.” After Rory had given up on trying to make Jack slow down, he’d laid down one simple ground rule: Jack could do whatever he wanted to do, so long as he didn’t end up passed out on the floor of his bar. Or in the bathroom.

“Got it,” Jack replied. His words were slurring together, he noted numbly. He needed a high, and soon, to balance out the alcohol. Jack wondered what it would be like if he were able to go without anything, without anything at all. It had been a long time since he’d been clean. But those had been dark times, too. He didn’t like to think about them very much. In truth, he didn’t like to think about anything very much. So, really, it all worked out quite well.

Jack shoved the bathroom door open. He was alone. Good. He leaned his back against the wall and slid down towards the ground. His eyes scanned the black floor, searching for hidden treasure. Somebody must have left something behind. Somebody always did. Jack was beginning to feel nauseous. After one particularly nasty encounter, he recalled, one of his clients had entered the bathroom only to find him there, half passed out on the floor. You’re pathetic, he’d commented, looking down at him scornfully. Oh yeah? Jack had replied. If I’m pathetic, what does that make you? The man had kicked him, hard. Some people just couldn’t take the truth. Jack leaned forward and closed his eyes. The floor felt nice and cool to the touch. Maybe if…

“Jack?” Jack stirred. Rory was tapping him on the shoulder. “Get up.”

“Why? You got something for me?” Jack mumbled wearily.

“Get up,” Rory repeated coldly. “You have a call.” He paused. “She wants you, Jack, so you better sober up quick.” Then he turned around and walked back out to the bar. Slowly, Jack pulled himself into a sitting position. What luck. He would have a client, it seemed, after all.


“She’s sending somebody to come and pick you up and take you to her cabin, Jack,” Rory said, putting down the old-fashioned phone he kept by the side of the bar. “He’ll be here in ten minutes.”

“Pick me up?”

“She insisted.” Rory looked him over. “Probably for the best. I don’t know if you’d make it all the way over there in that state.”

“You’d be surprised what I can do,” Jack replied. “For a few free drinks, maybe I’d let you find out.”

“For Gods’ sake, Jack,” Rory replied wearily. “Save that for your customers.” Jack watched as he washed up and then started sliding a wet rag across the counter. Jack knew most honest work would probably bore him within a week, but sometimes the prospect seemed appealing. Right now was one of those times. Jack felt himself start to drift, but, once again, Rory tapped him on the shoulder until he responded.

“You just can’t keep your hands off me, can you?” Jack coughed. “What is it?”

“Drink this.” Rory placed a tall glass filled with a light red liquid down in front of him. Jack didn’t move. “Unbelievable. You’ll use needles you find on the floor, but you don’t trust me not to poison you?” He sighed. “It’s an energy drink, okay? If you pass out in her cabin, Jack, she’s not gonna be too happy with you. Or with me, for that matter. So drink it.”

“I’m fine.” Jack took a tentative sip. “But it doesn’t taste half bad, so I suppose I’ll have it.” The stuff really was good, too. “Thanks,” he said. When Rory turned around, he gave him one of his broadest smiles.

“Save that for your customers, too,” Rory muttered in response. Jack sighed. His smiles weren’t what they used to be. But most of his customers weren’t too picky about that. “You know, Jack,” Rory continued, “I used to love your smile. And I mean your real smile, not that fake thing you use on people these days.”

“Yeah?” Jack finished off the rest of the energy drink. “Give me a few hundred credits, and I’ll give you one of those real smiles. Sound like a deal?”

“Gods help me,” Rory sighed. He opened a drawer and pulled out a ration bar. “Think you can stomach some of this?”

“I’ll pass.” Jack groaned; even thinking about eating a ration bar was enough to make him feel ill.

“Sadly, not all of us can afford to be so choosy.” Rory unwrapped the bar and bit into it. Jack watched him wash it down with a glass of water. “Hey, Jack,” he continued, checking his watch, “you’d better be ready to go. I don’t think the guy coming for you will want to wait around.”

“I’m as ready as can be.” Jack got, rather unsteadily, to his feet. “Ready as can be,” he repeated, and then leaned up against one of the tables for support. Still, Jack managed a mischievous grin. “Good thing I won’t have to stay on my feet very long.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“You wouldn’t want me any other way,” Jack replied, winking. But Rory didn’t laugh. Instead, he gestured towards the door, outside of which a brown-haired man in standard military attire was waiting. He tapped, twice, on the glass.

“You’d better go,” Rory said.

“Yeah.” Jack pulled on his long black coat. It was the only thing he had left – the only part he hadn’t sold – of his former life, and he wasn’t going to leave it behind for a moment. “Guess I should.”

“Good luck,” Rory said. Jack only nodded in response. To more would be to admit that he was scared, and Jack wasn’t scared of any situation, or of any client. Not even of Admiral Helena Cain.


“Are you Jack Harkness?” The officer was keeping a good distance from him, as if Jack were infected with a contagious disease he didn’t watch to catch.

“You got it,” Jack replied.

“Come on, then,” he snapped, beckoning Jack forward. “We don’t have much time.”

“That’s really too bad,” Jack said with a smirk. “I’ll just give you a free sample, then. If you like what you get, you can always come back for more.” The other man whirled around as if he’d been stung.

“What did you say?”

“Hey, hey.” Jack raised his hands in the air. “I wasn’t calling you cheap. Just wanted you to be sure that you’d be getting your money’s worth before you shelled out the full amount.”

“Shut up.” The officer slapped him right across the cheek. “And I’ll have you know that if you weren’t Cain’s favorite little whore, I’d do a lot more than that.”

“I’ll bet you would,” Jack said, eyes gleaming. Nothing like being slapped to sober you up, he thought.

“Let’s go.” The officer began marching forward at a fast clip. A few times, he had to pause and wait for Jack to catch up; as he did, he glared at the other man with unmitigated contempt. Jack didn’t mind. He knew why they hated him. He represented the side of themselves most people didn’t want to see, didn’t want to admit they had hidden within them. It was like he’d always said: some people just couldn’t take the truth. “Get in the back,” the officer said once they got to the small spacecraft that was to take them to the Pegasus.

Jack obeyed; then, he settled back in his seat with a contented sigh. The officer glanced back at him before turning on the engine. Probably making sure he wasn’t sighing with satisfaction at having stolen something. Not that he blamed the man for having that suspicion; it could, after all, very well have been the case. But not this time. Even when he was at his lowest, Jack had always found that slipping out into space – out into the emptiness, surrounded only by far-off stars – made him feel at least a little more alive.


“We’re here,” the officer announced about five minutes later. “Get out.” Once again, Jack obeyed silently. “Follow me,” he commanded.

“So,” Jack said as he swung into step behind his escort, “what is it you do, exactly, when you’re not picking up disreputable boys in bars and bringing them over to the Admiral?” The officer didn’t respond. Jack was disappointed; he’d at least expected him to reply angrily. If there was one thing he didn’t like, it was silence. But Jack was beginning to recognize his surroundings, which meant that they were almost there. Almost there. Jack caught the officer checking his watch. Was everybody in the fleet terrified of this woman but him?

“It’s here,” the officer said, stopping before one of the doors. Jack watched him as he waited; his muscles were tense, ready for action, and his eyes were darting nervously about the empty corridor.

“How about we knock?” Jack raised his arm, but the officer pulled it down brusquely.

“The Admiral will come for you when she’s ready.”

“Yeah?” Jack was starting to shiver. He was hoping that the Admiral wouldn’t keep him for long; he didn’t know how much longer he could hold up without another dose. “I still say we knock so that she hurries the hell up. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to wait out here the rest of the night.”

“I wouldn’t complain. You should consider yourself lucky that she’s taken a liking to you.”

“What can I say?” Jack shrugged. “I’m a lucky guy.” Jack heard footsteps behind the door. “Come by and visit me, and I can tell you all about it,” he continued.

“I warned you not to–”

“You sure did,” Jack interrupted, and then he leaned in and kissed the other man, pulling him into an embrace just as Cain opened the door. To Jack’s astonishment, he didn’t immediately shove him back. He let him finish the kiss; then, just as he was about to lean in for another, the officer slammed him backwards, sending him stumbling into Cain’s cabin.

“I…I apologize, sir,” the other man stuttered. “I…he…he just–”

“It was a pleasure making your acquaintance,” Jack gasped out, sitting up slowly. “And if you want to meet again, you know where to–”

“That’ll be enough, Jack,” Cain snapped. “You may go now,” she told the officer, and slammed the door shut.


Helena Cain’s gaze and pose always reminded Jack of the hawks he used to see circling his home, waiting to pounce upon their prey. She looked him over. “You’ve seen better days, Captain Harkness,” she commented coldly. “But I must give you credit where credit is due. That was a most audacious move on your part.”

“Glad you enjoyed it.” Jack struggled to his feet. Sweat was starting to trickle down his forehead. Let her keep this one short, he wished. Keep it short.

“I did.” Cain sat down on the edge of her bed. As usual, she was still dressed in her uniform. Jack sometimes suspected that she derived more joy from the power she held over him than she did out of the sex itself. It puzzled him. He would have thought she’d get enough of that as the Admiral of a Battlestar. But as he’d told Rory once, some people can never get enough. And that’s a good thing. That’s what keeps me in business. “Actually,” Cain continued, “I’d like to see you do it again.”

“Again?” Jack glanced around the room, puzzled. In the meantime, Cain pressed a red button by the side of her desk and picked up her phone.

“Is Lieutenant Gaeta on duty?” Lieutenant Gaeta, Lieutenant Gaeta…no, the name was not familiar to him. “Good. Send him over to my cabin right away,” Cain ordered before hanging up the phone. “I’m bringing you a little friend tonight, Jack,” she said. “I think you’ll like him. I rather like him myself. He’s very…pretty.” Jack shuddered. “I hope you’ll be more enthusiastic than that when he actually arrives. I want him to enjoy himself as well, Jack.”

“That’s what I do best,” Jack replied smoothly. Yet something about the concept bothered him. Would this Lieutenant Gaeta know what he was getting into, or would he be forced to comply? Jack sat down heavily on the armchair across from Cain’s bed. In the latter case, he wanted no part in the exercise. Like Rory, he had some ground rules, the first of which was that nobody ever did anything they didn’t want to do. He’d turned clients seeking threesomes down on those grounds before; why should this situation be any different?

“I must confess that I expected you to be more excited about this. I know how very much you like pretty boys. And yet you don’t look very pleased with this arrangement.” Cain got to her feet once more and stepped over to Jack’s side. “You aren’t going to give me any trouble, are you?”

“Only when you want me to.” Jack wiped his forehead; he was sweating heavily, now. And his whole body was beginning to ache.

“Do you need anything, Jack?”

“What’s that?”

“You’re not well.” Cain brushed back her brown hair. “I think I might be able to help.” Jack’s eyes brightened instantly. Please, he thought, please let her have some. Please. “That did get your attention now, didn’t it?” Cain commented, reaching into a small drawer beneath her beside table and pulling out a packet filled with white powder. Jack felt his pulse quicken instantly. It was almost unbearable, having it dangled there before him. “You like this, don’t you?”

“It’s not bad.” It was useless. Of course she knew that he “liked” it.

“What do you think, Jack? Should I give you some of it now?”

“How about you split it 50/50?” It made him sick, having to say it. Complying with clients’ wishes wasn’t humiliating. He was giving them pleasure, and they were paying for it. It was a sale like any other. But this? This was humiliating. “Some now,” he gasped, “and some later.”

“All right.” Cain started to extend the package to him; then, to his horror, she stopped halfway. “Only I think I’ll let Lieutenant Gaeta do the honors. That way he’ll feel more…comfortable with you.” Having him feed me drugs while I’m in this state is going to make him feel more comfortable how? Jack wanted to say it, but he held back. As long as Cain had that white powder in her hands, he had to hold back.

Jack huddled down in the armchair. He was cold, so very cold, and he was having trouble thinking clearly. Okay, he told himself, if this Lieutenant Gaeta guy is game, I’m game. If he hesitates, it’s off. He’d lost most of his principles already, but he was not about to let go of his cardinal rule, no matter how many packets of white powder Admiral Cain offered him. No, he told himself. No. He hesitates and it’s off.

When the red light by Cain’s bed blinked twice, Jack’s eyes were closed again. Cain shook him roughly on her way to the door, and Jack roused himself just in time to see a dark-eyed, olive skinned young man in uniform step into the room and salute her. He wasn’t just “pretty,” Jack thought, scrambling to his feet; he was beautiful.


“Come on in, Lieutenant Gaeta.” Cain’s tone was surprisingly soft. “I’d like you to meet a friend of mine.” She motioned him forward, and he complied. “Lieutenant Gaeta,” she continued, “this is Jack. Jack Harkness. For some reason, he likes to call himself Captain Jack Harkness.” She smiled. “You can call him whatever you’d like.” Then she turned to Jack. “This is Lieutenant Felix Gaeta, Jack.”

“Hey there, Felix,” Jack said, extending his hand.

“Nice to meet you,” Felix said stiffly. Jack felt sorry for the kid; he probably had no idea what Cain had in store for him. But maybe it would be fine, he thought. Maybe he’d be thrilled. He could tell right away that Felix found him attractive. Most people did, even now that he was far slimmer than he should be and couldn’t seem to get rid of the dark shadows beneath his eyes. And his smile, fake or not, could get him almost anyone.

“Very good.” Cain nodded. “Now, sit down, Felix,” she instructed, pointing at the armchair. Felix did. Jack could see how nervous the situation was making the young man; apprehension was written in every line in his face. “I want Jack to introduce himself properly.” Cain beckoned Jack forward, and he obeyed without hesitation. It wouldn’t do to show her that he had any doubts about the undertaking. “Take off your coat, Captain Harkness,” she commanded. He did. “Take the Captain’s coat, Felix.”

“Y-yes, sir.” Felix got up and took Jack’s coat from him with trembling hands. The young lieutenant’s anxiety had been transformed into pure terror. He’d seen the situation play itself out hundreds of times. A man would be staring at him longingly, but when he approached, he would flee, scared of the strength of his own desire. Jack would simply stay at the bar, waiting. Some, after a few more drinks, returned; others never did. He’d come to accept that. But Felix wasn’t going to be given the chance to make a run for it, not with Admiral Cain sitting on the bed waiting for the show to start. Jack’s stomach churned, and for a terrible moment he was sure that he was going to be sick.

“Jack,” Cain snapped. Jack shuddered. Had he faded out for a moment? Quite possibly. Cain sounded irked. “Take off your shirt.” Don’t hesitate, Jack told himself, immediately beginning to fumble with the buttons. His hands were shaking so much that it was no trivial task. “Having difficulty with that, Captain Harkness?”

“Impatient, are we?” Jack grinned.

“No matter.” Cain’s eyes narrowed. “Why don’t you help him with it, Felix?”

“Yes, sir.” Felix took a step forward. Jack had never had anybody look at him with such a combination of desire and sheer dread. Jack dropped his hands to his sides in an attempt to give Felix as much space as he possibly could. Then Felix reached out and gently undid the buttons on his shirt, one after the other. Jack stared down at the ground as Felix worked; he couldn’t bring himself to look into Felix’s eyes.

“Well done, Mr. Gaeta,” Cain commented as Felix finished. “You may sit back down now…unless you’d like to help him take it off. I’m sure Captain Harkness would appreciate that.” As she spoke, Cain passed the packet of white powder back and forth from one hand to the other. “Wouldn’t you, Jack?”

“I certainly would,” Jack replied.

“You see,” Cain continued after a pause, “there’s no need for you to feel guilty about this, Mr. Gaeta. Jack loves pretty boys like you. And he’s getting handsomely rewarded for his trouble.” She smiled. “So do what you will with him. I brought him here just for you.”

“B-but…why?” Felix gasped out at last, hands hovering above Jack’s shirt.

“Because I know you’ll like it,” Cain replied smoothly. “And I know that I’ll like to watch.”


Jack shivered as Felix’s hands pulled back his shirt. It was up to Felix, how much they did together; it wasn’t as if Cain was forcing him to do anything he didn’t want to do. And he’d make it worth Felix’s while, too. Jack’s eyes drifted back to the packet of white powder in Cain’s hand. Everyone had something to gain from the transaction. Not that he would have minded allowing Felix to have his way with him under other circumstances. The darkly handsome, fresh-faced young man was just his type, and his touch, unlike that of most of his clients, was soft and tender. It was almost as if he cared what Jack felt, cared enough to not want to hurt him.

“Go on, Mr. Gaeta.” Admiral Cain was getting impatient. “He’ll do anything for you; all you have to do is ask. Jack is very good at what he does.”

“You bet I am,” Jack said, winking. Felix looked horrified, and Jack could have slapped himself. What was he thinking? This man was nothing like his usual clients. In fact, he wasn’t even a client at all.

“B-but…this isn’t right,” Felix stammered, stepping back. “You don’t have to do anything for me.”

“What’s not right, Mr. Gaeta?” Cain got to her feet and stepped over to Jack, packet of powder still in hand. “Is he not to your liking? I think him quite handsome, myself,” she said, running her right hand across Jack’s bare back. “He’s not at his best quite yet, but we could change that.” She tossed the packet over to Felix, who caught it with both hands. “Are you familiar with this, Mr. Gaeta?”

“I know what it is.” Felix faced Cain without flinching. “I know that it’s not legal.”

“Never mind that. Nobody’s going to arrest you here. You can have as much as you’d like.”

“I…no thank you, sir. I’d rather not.” Jack couldn’t take his eyes off of the white powder. How could Felix hold it so very casually? Wasn’t he aware of its power, of the way it could lift its users up from the darkest depths into a world that glittered and glowed? Of the pains that were shooting through him now, for want of it?

“I’m sure Jack won’t turn it down, if you offer some to him.” Cain sat down in the armchair Felix had vacated. “Why don’t you try giving him some, Mr. Gaeta?” Yes, Jack thought. Yes, please. “But don’t give it to him all at once. That won’t do him any good either.” What they needed was some time alone. If only he could convince Cain to let them have a little time to themselves, he could settle all of it. But how? Cain definitely wasn’t going to trust them alone now that Felix had the drugs in hand.

“How do…how should I give it to him?” Felix was looking at Cain, now. Jack knew this point in his encounters very well. It was the point at which he ceased to be another person worth addressing, and became a toy other people passed around for their own enjoyment. He couldn’t very well complain about it; he had brought it upon himself, and there were certainly worse ways to make a living. But he could help but feel a little sorry that Felix now saw him that way, too. On the bright side, it would probably make things…easier.

“Why don’t you ask him?” Cain leaned back in her seat. “Jack is quite the expert when it comes to these matters, too. Let him tell you.”

“That’s right,” Jack said, turning his voice smooth, seductive. “Give me your hand, Mr. Gaeta. Or do you prefer Felix?”

“Y-you can call me Felix.”

“It suits you,” Jack said, taking the lieutenant’s hand and caressing it. “It suits you very well.” Jack turned Felix’s palm up and gestured towards the drugs. “Pour some of the powder out into your hand,” he instructed. Mesmerized, he watched the white powder slide out of the bag and onto Felix’s upturned hand.

“That’s enough,” Cain snapped, rising and taking back the bag. Enough? No. That wasn’t enough, and Cain knew it. That amount wouldn’t satisfy his craving, or do away with the withdrawal symptoms; it would just make him want it all the more. But at this point, he’d take what he could get. So, slowly, Jack leaned forward and licked the white powder off of Felix’s palm. Short of using a needle, this was the most direct and powerful way to do it. The drug had been processed precisely for that purpose, and this stuff was as pure as it got, Jack thought, staggering back as the first wave hit him.

“Yes,” Jack gasped. “That’s it.” For a single, glorious second, everything burst to light around him, and he felt his soul soar out into the stars. He was spinning out through time; he was standing before the skylines of thousands of glittering cities.

“Aren’t you going to thank him, Jack?” Cain’s voice, drifting up to him from far below. “You should be grateful to Lieutenant Gaeta.”

“Oh,” Jack breathed, “I am, believe me.” His heart was racing. And yet he could already feel the high starting to fade. The pure stuff was powerful, but it didn’t last; you could stay up for longer if you mixed it. Jack realized, belatedly, that he was shaking all over. He’d had a taste; now he needed the rest. “Allow me,” he continued weakly, “to show you…the extent…of my appreciation, Felix.” And then he leaned in and kissed the man. He kissed him once, and again, his tongue reaching inside Felix’s mouth and his arms wrapping tightly around the young officer’s waist. Felix smelled of soap and freshly washed laundry, and his skin was perfectly smooth.

It was only in the midst of the third kiss that Jack remembered that Felix wasn’t a client, and that he hadn’t said yes.


Jack didn’t pull away. He couldn’t let Cain see that he wasn’t ready to go along with her plans; he had to play the game until the right chance came along. So he finished kissing Felix the third time, and then, after slowly stroking the lieutenant’s back, stepped away. As he did so, Jack realized that he wanted Felix more than he’d wanted anybody in a long time. He was honest and he was kind; that much was clear to Jack already. Under other circumstances, maybe–

“Very nice.” Cain had settled back down on the bed. “Did you like that, Felix?” The lieutenant didn’t respond, and when Jack dared look up at him he saw that he was breathing quickly, and that his eyes were wide with shock. And that was when he knew for sure that he wasn’t going to cross the line. He’d crossed it already.

“I’m sure he did,” Jack said slickly. They needed to buy themselves some time; as soon as his head cleared a bit, he’d be able to think of something. Then it hit him. They didn’t need to go anywhere; they just needed to be close enough to each other that Cain wouldn't hear anything. It never hurt to have something in the background, either, so he looked up at Cain and asked, “You got any music, Admiral?”

“Of course I do,” she replied.

“Good.” Jack reached out and took Felix’s hand in his. Too bad Cain was so unsentimental. Many women would be satisfied with the kiss; they’d find it striking, romantic. But Cain wouldn’t; she’d have to have it all. “Because I’d like to ask Mr. Gaeta for a dance.”

“How would you like that, Mr. Gaeta?” Cain asked. Still, Felix said nothing. Jack’s heart was racing, and he had a feeling it wasn’t simply a side effect of the drugs he’d taken. He was, he realized, genuinely scared. But not all was lost. He’d yet to fully turn on the charm.

“Put on the music,” Jack told Cain. “Something slow. We’ve got to get Felix here in the mood.” He winked at Cain, and a catlike smile crept across her face. “You like the way I think,” Jack continued. “I know you do, Admiral Cain.”

“Here’s your music, Jack,” Cain replied after a moment’s pause, hitting a button by the side of her bed. The song burst out into the still air, and Jack felt like somebody had just knocked all the breath out of him. Of all the songs in the world, he wondered, how had she known that the surest way to shake him up was to choose this one?


“Is there a problem, Captain Harkness?” Jack took a deep breath. It must have been bad luck, then; if she’d known, her tone would have been taunting. But she was merely puzzled.

“No,” Jack managed to reply. “I’m just finding it difficult to focus on the music when such a handsome young man is standing in front of me, waiting for me to ask him to dance.” Jack felt his lips twist up into a smile. “Will you do me the honor, Mr. Gaeta?”

“Okay.” Felix reached out, awkwardly, towards him.

“Thank you,” Jack said, and then, in a smooth, swift motion, pulled Felix up against him. He placed one of his arms around Felix’s shoulder and leaned in until he felt Felix’s uniform brush against his bare skin. So very soft, Jack caught himself thinking, so very soft and warm. But no: he had to concentrate. It was bad enough with that song in the background – le temps de l’amour, c’est long et c’est court – and the drug in his bloodstream; he couldn’t let himself start to dream about Felix, as well.

Jack slowly took Felix around the small room, pausing for a moment to spin away from him and sing out a few lines of the song. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cain raise her eyebrows.

“That was good,” Felix said once he closed up the distance between them. Jack kissed him – a long, slow kiss – in response. Play it up. He had to play it up, show every sign of cooperation.

“Felix.” He put his mouth up against the lieutenant’s ear. “Do you want to go through with this?” He kissed him again, more briefly this time, and then continued, “You don’t have to do this. I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to do.” Jack ran one of his hands through Felix’s hair; with the other, he caressed the young man’s back. He glanced over at Cain. She seemed content enough; as he suspected, she hadn’t noticed. Not yet. “Felix,” Jack repeated, mouth once again by Felix’s ear, “If you don’t want to do this – not here, not now – step on my foot.”

For a moment, Jack thought that he might have gotten lucky. That Felix might have wanted him so much that he would have been willing to forget Cain’s presence and the sad, sordid way in which it had been arranged. C’est le temps de l’amour, c’est long et c’est court. But Felix’s foot pressed down, hard, on his own. Get a grip, Jack, he told himself. Seriously, what had he been expecting?

“Careful there,” Jack said aloud, seizing the opportunity to take Felix in his arms once more. He then turned his head, ever so slightly, so that Felix could whisper to him.

“How?” Another twist, another turn on Cain’s cold wooden floor, and Jack could speak again.

“Go along with what I’m about to do. When tell you to, look embarrassed.” Jack wondered why he even bothered to include that in his instructions; of course Felix would look embarrassed. “We have to let Cain to let the two of us enter the bathroom together.”

“Okay,” Felix whispered, and Jack felt the oddest feeling well up within him. Felix trusted him. Felix trusted him. It had been a long time since somebody had trusted him. Jack leaned his head against Felix’s shoulder. Thank you, Felix, he wanted to say. Thank you for your trust.


But they didn’t have time for that. He had to convince Helena Cain that she was about to get her what she wanted, and he had to do it fast. So he grabbed Felix and pressed their bodies together, stroking his back with one hand while scrambling to undo the buttons on Felix’s uniform with the other. He hoped, desperately, that Felix would understand that he merely had to play along, that he hadn’t been lying when he’d promised to let him get off free. To Jack’s infinite relief, Felix began hurriedly pulling at the remaining buttons, and then tossed his shirt on the side of the armchair, right above Jack’s coat. Good, Felix, Jack thought. Very good.

“Now that’s more like it,” Jack said aloud, turning towards Cain with a grin. Jack looked on appreciatively as Felix removed his undershirt, revealing a small tattoo on one shoulder. “And now take a look at that! Quiet young officer on the outside, but a tiger underneath.” Jack twisted his lips up into a leer. “I hope you’re ready to be a tiger tonight, Lieutenant Gaeta,” Jack added, running his hands along Felix’s bare skin. Then Jack unzipped his pants and let them fall to the ground. He looked right into Felix’s eyes as he did it, willing Felix not to panic, willing him to keep on trusting him. “Do you want me, Felix? Tell me what you want, and I’ll do it. Just for you, Felix.” Jack slid a hand down his bare chest and then did the same to Felix. “Tell me you want me,” he said, keeping his voice just loud enough for Cain to overhear the phrase. “Tell me you want me, Felix Gaeta.”

“I want you,” Felix breathed. “I want you,” he repeated. And it was true; Jack could sense it. But he’d promised Felix he’d extricate him from this situation, and extricate him from it he would.

“That’s right,” Jack said aloud. But as he leaned in to unzip Felix’s pants, he whispered, “Almost, Felix. Next thing I do, pull back from me, okay?” Jack caught hold of Felix’s gaze and held it; then, he shed his briefs and approached Felix. Felix’s eyes widened – that, he did not have to fake – and then he pushed Jack away.

“W-wait,” he stuttered. “Not yet.”

“No time like the present, tiger.” Jack tugged at the edge of Felix’s shorts.

“But…but I’ve never done this before,” Felix exclaimed. Nice touch, Jack thought. Then he wondered whether it was true.

“Even better.” Jack turned to Cain and winked. “I’ll show you just how it’s done.”

“I…I don’t think I–” Felix stopped abruptly, leaned in towards Jack, and frantically whispered, “Jack? What now?”

“Don’t worry,” Jack replied, “you’ve done perfectly.” With that, he looked back over to Cain. “Do you think you could give us just a few minutes in private? Felix needs a little time to…loosen up.”

“Does he now?” Cain’s eyes were glittering. Jack smiled. They’d done well. She’d been enjoying it, and she didn’t doubt for a moment that her every desire was going to be met, and then some. “All right,” she said after a pause. “After all, Captain Harkness, you know best.”


“All right,” Jack said as soon as the door was closed. “There’s only one way for us to get out of this.”

“What’s that?” Felix was, Jack noted, very awkwardly attempting not to stare at him. Jack was so accustomed to people looking him over in the most crude way possible that seeing somebody try to avoid doing it was oddly touching. It felt, almost, like Felix respected him. But, with some difficulty, Jack turned away from Felix and began searching through Admiral Cain’s medicine cabinet. Searching, searching…looking for something he could use. “You’re going to…drug her?”

“No.” Jack selected three of the bottles and one vial and placed them down on the floor. That particular mix would leave him with a hell of a hangover, but it would do the trick. “I’m taking this. It’ll make me pass out in about…a minute or two. Then you can leave. Cain won’t be able to blame either of us, really, although she probably won’t hire me again for a while.” To Jack’s chagrin, his hand shook as he poured one small bottle into the other, causing some of the liquid to spill onto the floor. Felix immediately wiped it up with a towel.

“But that…that can’t be…you’re not drinking that!” Felix looked horrified. “That’s not meant to be ingested. It’s toxic, Jack!”

“In small quantities, it’s a hell of a tranquilizer.” Jack shuddered. “Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.” He finished adding in the ingredients and swirled the bottle to mix them together. Then he raised it up to his lips. “To the Admiral,” he said sardonically.

“Jack!” Felix’s hand reached out to stop him, but Jack held him back until he’d drained the bottle.

“Taste could be better,” he muttered.

“You shouldn’t have…you shouldn’t have done that.” Felix sounded genuinely concerned. “Gods, you…it’s my fault that–”

“No,” Jack interrupted. “This is not your fault. And I’m going to be fine. Just…help me up.” Felix did, and then, to Jack’s surprise, the young officer wrapped his arms around him and hugged him.

“Are you really going to be okay?”

“Yes,” Jack answered. “But if you don’t hurry, I’m going to pass out here instead. We don’t have much time.” Jack coughed and rubbed his eyes. His vision was already blurring. “When we get out there, start getting undressed immediately. Look like you want me, like you’re about to…damn,” Jack gasped, stumbling. “No more time. Let’s go.”

“Well,” Felix added, as they made their way out, “this, at least, shouldn’t be hard.”

“Huh?” Jack grabbed on to Felix’s hand. “What’s that?”

“Acting like I want you. That shouldn’t be hard,” Felix said softly, “because it’s true.”

“That’s got to be…the nicest thing…anybody’s said to me…in ages.” Jack stood up as straight as he could. “Now…it’s show time.” With that, the two men marched out before Admiral Cain. Jack let himself fall in towards Felix, who quickly shed the rest of his clothing. His skin was so warm, so smooth. Jack held on as tightly as he could, held on until everything faded out and he crashed down onto the floor.

The last thing he heard was Felix calling out his name.


Last time Jack got high – really high, high enough to forget his immediate surroundings – he sat down in a corner of the bar and just listened to the music, let the notes wash through him. His mind picked up on the melodies effortlessly; as soon as a new song came on, it would transport him elsewhere. He ran the gamut of emotions, that night, and he’d gasped out, in the middle of it, that he’d never felt so alive. Of course, he said that quite often, when he was high.

But he still remembered one moment, one song in particular. It had been a dance tune with a Latin beat, and it had hit him with such immediacy he’d been willing to bet his life on having heard it before. He could see a crowd of people dancing; the sound of their voices had filled the streets, which were dark save for the light cast by dangling lanterns. There had been so much energy on display, and he’d drifted though it all, allowing it to carry him along. He’d winked at a pretty boy and smiled at a gorgeous girl, but he hadn’t danced with anybody in particular. He hadn’t needed to dance with anybody, because he’d been in love with the whole city – the whole of humanity, despite the pettiness that inevitably accompanied his species’ displays of power – that night. He hadn’t been able to get enough of it.

In the hours he spent between sleep and wakefulness after one of Admiral Cain’s soldiers deposited him unceremoniously back on the floor of Rory’s bar, the image returned to him once and again. Between it, nightmares burst to life, nightmares he could only shake by trying to remember how soft and warm Felix’s skin had felt against his shivering body.

“Jack.” Somebody was shaking him, and it certainly wasn’t Felix. “Jack, someone’s here for you. He’s been waiting for you to get up, but he has to leave now.” Jack opened his eyes. Rory. No surprise there. He winced; the light in the bathroom was already giving him a headache, and–

“Gonna be sick,” Jack gasped, and dragged himself over to the toilet. What had he had, last night? Admiral Cain and Felix. The pure, perfect white powder. He’d licked it off of Felix’s outstretched hand. Cain’s bathroom. Bottles…mixing up a tranquilizer…right. That explained it. Jack slumped back against the side of the stall.

“Damn.” Rory peered in at him. “You frakked yourself up but good, didn’t you?”

“Not what you think.” Jack placed both hands on his churning stomach. “You’d be surprised.” He groaned and closed his eyes.

“I wouldn’t believe a word of that,” Rory began, “except for the fact that you have a visitor. A respectable looking visitor, at that. A young officer. Very polite, too. A big improvement on your last few customers, let me tell you.”

“Tell him…tell him I can’t see him…tell him to come back in twenty minutes.”

“He can’t. His shift starts in ten, Jack. What do you want me to say to him?”

“Tell him…” Jack was starting to fade out again. “Tell him…not to worry. Tell him I’m fine.”

“Okay.” Rory sounded puzzled. Jack didn’t blame him. “He wanted to give you back your coat too, Jack. Should I let him come in here and give it to you?” Jack shook his head. “All right. Got it. I’ll tell him you can’t see him right now.”

“Thanks…thanks, Rory.” Jack listened to his footsteps as he walked out; once the sound faded away, he let himself slip back into oblivion.


When he finally woke, he found that somebody had draped his coat over him. Must have been Rory. Ought to thank Rory more often, Jack thought; Cain’s men had probably given him some grief when they’d brought him back, unconscious. Jack reviewed the evening once more. He’d gotten Felix out of Cain’s cabin; that’s what mattered. Felix. Felix, Jack remembered, had come for him earlier, when he’d been too sick to see anyone. Jack couldn’t quite identify the emotion he felt when he thought about the chance he had missed. It was somewhere between regret and relief. He’d done something good for Felix, something of which he could be proud. He wanted Felix to remember him that way. Not like this.

With a heavy sigh, Jack pulled his coat back on and got to his feet. Not good. He probably wouldn’t be able to work, tonight. No work meant no money. No money meant no drugs. Jack shuddered as he pushed open the bathroom door.

“Sleeping beauty rises at last,” Rory commented. “How’re you feeling?”

“I’ve been better.” Jack buttoned up his coat. He didn’t know what he would have done, had Felix not been kind enough to return it to him.

“You must have made yourself one nasty cocktail last night.” Rory poured out a glass of water, squirted some lemon juice in it, and added sugar. He then plunked it down in front of Jack. “Your lemonade, sir.”

“You know me far too well.” Jack took two short sips and then put the glass down. He was thirsty as hell, but it wouldn’t do for him to drink it too fast. To ensure that he resisted the temptation, he stuck his hands in his pockets. And there, to his surprise, he found a neatly cut scrap of paper. Curious, he pulled it out and unfolded it.

Jack, it read, thank you. I missed you this time, but I’ll come and see you again soon. Below that, it was signed, quite simply, Felix. And then: PS: May I reserve the right to your next dance?

“Of course you can,” Jack whispered to himself. “Of course you can, Felix.” He read the note again before folding it, ever so slowly, and placing it back in his pocket.

“How’s the lemonade?” Rory was looking at him, an odd expression on his face.

“Good,” Jack said, taking another sip. “Great, actually.” Then he reached back into his pocket and ran his fingers around the folded paper’s edges.

“It must be damn good,” Rory said, “because I haven’t seen you smile like that in months.” Rory paused. “It’s a good look for you. You should do it more often.”

“Yeah?” Jack felt for the paper once more. “You know what? Maybe I will.”