Title: In Shakespeare's Garden
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Jack Harkness
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Rating: PG-13
Table: 12
Prompt: 40: Bard
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the Tenth Doctor or Jack Harkness. Please do not sue.

***

The Doctor laughed as he leaned towards the fire that Jack had started, reaching his hands towards the blaze. It was a chilly night, but the fire was keeping them fairly warm, and he could look at this as an adventure.

He hadn't counted on staying outside of the Tardis tonight, but Jack had thought that it wouldn't be wise to do so, and he'd deferred to his lover's decision. They might be watched, and even though they could make a quick getaway in the ship, that wasn't their goal.

There was something odd going on here, and they both wanted to get to the bottom of it. Jack had laughed at the Doctor's notion of smuggling and pirates at first, saying that it was something that could only have happened on a place like Earth.

But the longer they were in this world, the more they were both becoming convinced that the Doctor's speculation had been right.

What could they do about it if they did get some sort of proof? The Doctor hadn't really thought about that, but he assumed that they'd be able to set things right. He always took that attitude; if he couldn't change things, he would have at least tried.

Jack was a bit more practical, he told himself, but that was the good thing about having him as a companion. The immortal seemed to balance out his own way of doing things, so that they could accomplish more with fewer catastrophes.

And besides, he reflected, closing his eyes for a moment, having his lover for a companion was wonderful. Not only did he have the companionship he craved, but he had someone who was closer to him than just being a friend.

That was what he'd wanted, for as long as he could remember -- but no one in the past had ever filled that space in him that he'd been keeping aside. But Jack .... Jack had fit into that space as though it had always been meant for him and him alone.

Now here they were, sitting outside by a campfire and pretending that they actually belonged here, on a world that was unfamiliar to them. Well, he'd been here before, mused the Doctor, but it was at least new to Jack.

Still, when he'd last been here, things had been different. There was an ominousness that hung in the air now, a feeling that he definitely didn't like.

He wasn't going to concern himself with that at the moment, the Doctor thought, stretching his hands out to the fire again and taking a deep breath. He'd be wary and cautious, yes, but he didn't want to be too much so; it might arouse suspicion.

Things seemed safe enough for now, and the two of them could let down their guards a bit. They had the night ahead of them -- and the Doctor was fairly sure that the two of them wouldn't be sleeping in separate .... what were they? Bedrolls?

He closed his eyes, listening to the soft tenor of Jack's voice in the air. He was always transported to another place when Jack sang; there was something about the other man's voice that was sensual and soothing at the same time.

How was it that one voice could so mesmerize him? No one else had ever been able to do that, either singing or speaking. He'd never found voices that fascinating before -- at least, not until he'd heard Jack sing.

There was something about that voice that he couldn't quite put his finger on, something that made him feel as though the rest of the world was very far away, that the two of them were the only ones who existed anywhere in the universe.

The voice stopped, the last notes of the song trailing off into the air around them. The Doctor opened his eyes, to find Jack looking at him with a soft smile on his face.

He couldn't help blushing a bit, feeling as though he'd been caught out in doing something that he shouldn't be. But why was that? Jack had been singing, and he'd been carried away by it. He had every right to feel that way.

"I take it you liked the song," Jack said, winking at him across the fire. "From the look on your face, I almost feel like standing up and taking a bow. Or at least giving you an encore, just so you'll keep on looking so happy."

"Yes, I liked it," the Doctor told him, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You should have been a bard, you know. You'd have fit right in back in Shakespeare's time. I can even see you in a long cloak carrying a .... whatever they played back then."

"I think it was called a gittern," Jack told him, grinning. "Sort of a guitar, but I wouldn't have a clue in the world how to play it. And those robes wouldn't look good on me. Too loose. You know I like to show off my figure."

"You just like to show off," the Doctor retorted, unable to keep his smile from growing. He knew that Jack was only teasing; the immortal might flirt, which could be infuriating, but he was faithful. The Doctor had no doubts about that.

"Of course I do," Jack answered, laughing and stretching his own hands out towards the warmth of the blaze. "I've got a lot for people to see, don't you think?"

"You," the Doctor told him, shaking his head in mock admonition, "are a vain little bugger. I should get up and go back to the Tardis, and lock you out of her for the night. Since you seem to be determined to sleep out here, you should have to spend the night without me."

"Oh, come on, Doc." Jack pretended to put at him, his lower lip thrust out and a woebegone look on his face. "You know that wouldn't be any fun. How am I supposed to keep warm all night if I don't have you to hold on to?"

The Doctor pretended to consider, eyeing Jack and frowning slightly. "Well .... considering that I'm too thin to really keep you warm, it's highly improbable that having me out here will help you much. But it could be a placebo ...."

Jack couldn't keep his laughter back; he leaned over, spluttering with what sounded like .... giggles. The Doctor tried his best not to laugh, but within a few seconds, he'd succumbed as well, hodling his sides and shaking with mirth.

"Jack, stop! You're making me laugh too much." He finally managed to subdue the fit of laughter, wiping his eyes and gazing across the fire at his lover. It was so rare that he and Jack had shared moments like this lately. It felt good to be able to laugh.

"I like seeing you laugh," Jack said softly, his expression suddenly serious. "You don't do that often enough."

"We haven't had a lot to laugh about lately," the Doctor reminded him, looking around him as he spoke. Jack's words had made him remember where they were, and that they might not be entirely safe here. They had to be careful and look out for themselves.

"No -- but still, I wish you'd laugh more," Jack told him, moving until he was sitting beside the Time Lord. "You used to laugh a lot, and I miss it. There's something about your laugh that's .... I guess 'infectious' would be the word."

"You make me sound like a disease!" the Doctor protested, laughing in spite of himself. "But see, you just made me laugh. So your wish is coming true. Somehow, you always know just how to strike the right chord with me, Jack."

"Good," Jack said, sliding one arm around the Doctor's waist. "So, I should be a bard, and you should be a clown. We'd make quite a pair, wouldn't we? If we were back in the future, we could have a variety show."

"That would be an interesting way to make a living," the Doctor mused as he relaxed back into Jack's embrace. "Though not nearly as interesting as the life we're leading now. I really wouldn't want to give this up."

"Oh, I can think of a few ways to make this life even more interesting," Jack murmured, a wicked gleam in his eyes as his mouth came down on the Doctor's. And within a few short moments, the Doctor was left in no doubt of just how interesting their lives could be.

***