Large PrintHandheldAudioRating
Twisting The Hellmouth Crossing Over Awards - Results
Rules for Challenges

No Time

StoryReviewsStatisticsRelated StoriesTracking

This story is No. 4 in the series "Elemental Journey". You may wish to read the series introduction and the preceeding stories first.

Summary: What Jack heard was something extraordinary, much like the Soul Singers of Aranthine in the year 9850.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Dr. Who/Torchwood > Drusilla-Centered(Past Donor)CharlotteFR711,827021,9581 Jan 081 Jan 08Yes
I own absolutely nothing. Not even my car... Certainly not the characters I've been playing with for my own amusement.

Jack sat at a corner table, surveying the crowd as they gyrated on the floor. Supposedly there was a live band most nights but they must have been on a break. Owen told him the band was good; mostly covers. Thought the lead singer bore a closer look. That something might be off about her. The man had been pinging throughout his shift on Monday and said there had been an obvious energy exchange flowing through the room. If that was the case, Owen received a bit more than his fair share. It took the man until Wednesday to get back to his normal surly self.

The club favored heavy beats and the music was different than Jack usually listened to. But then, where on Earth would he possibly find music from his era? A bit of disturbance on the dance floor drew his attention and Jack smiled as he spotted two women giving an impressive show as they danced together. Both had waist length hair; one ebony colored, the blue highlights an obvious dye job and the other a rich mahogany that begged for attention. After a few minutes of observation, Jack started as they turned as one to look back at him and smiled mischievously. The crowd closed around them and he lost sight of the pair as the song came to a close.

He was about to take a walk about the room when he spotted the band taking the stage and smiled again as the ebony haired woman from the dance floor took the front mic and sent him another wink. The crowd hushed and the woman opened her mouth. What Jack heard was something extraordinary, much like the Soul Singers of Aranthine in the year 9850 if he remembered correctly, which he always did.

In A Cappella, her voice sounded over the entire room and Jack wondered if the whole song would be that way, he just might enjoy it if that was the case…

You try your hardest, to perfect your explanations...
You lie until they've run out of questions

You can only move as fast as who's in front of you

A raspy guitar began followed by a bass guitar and Jack winced inwardly. ‘Damn. Well at least the music isn’t drowning out their voices.’

And if you assume just like them, then what good will it do?
So find out for yourself, so your ignorance will stop bleeding through.

Jack began to feel himself relax and so the woman sliding into the seat next to him was less of a surprise than it should have been. A beautifully manicured nail traced the sleeve of his shirt before stopping at the cuff and he looked into her eyes. That was his first mistake. No, not resisting the influence of the singer was the first one. Everything else he should have expected.

The woman had been stunning out on the dance floor. Up close, she was exquisite; all dark hair and eyes and porcelain skin. There was a wicked gleam in her eyes and she smiled at him again.

“You have no time. Only bits and pieces of before. Belonging no where and searching for everything.”

Jack pulled back in alarm. She was either a Time Agent or some sort of psychic and either would be a bad thing. She gripped his forearm with surprising strength, halting his retreat. Other than alarm from her unexpected knowledge of personal information, Jack felt no threat and it never occurred to him to pull his weapon.

“Who are you? What do you know about me?”

“You may call me Dru. It was a smart choice to give Them their desire Jack. Flowers stuffed where they shouldn’t by the bad fairies. Such a pretty mouth should never turn blue.” Her fingers brushed his lips and they both gasped at the contact. His was due to the coolness of her skin. From the horrified look on her face, her gasp was something much more.

“No, no, no… No Time for my song. Winter Roses should have known better.”

The music that had faded as she and Jack spoke returned to his attention and he looked up as the singer screeched into the mic. Her skin had taken on a strange glow and suddenly Dru was on the stage with her arms wrapped around the young woman’s shoulders. The other band members watched with worried expressions and Jack regained full use of his senses as the song ended. A young man with red spiked hair moved to the front mic and the band seemed to segue into their next song seamlessly even as he sent concerned looks their way.

The band had become all background noise to Jack despite the power that emanated from the stage. He made his way toward the back where he saw Dru usher the singer and used his ID to gain access. He followed the murmurings to a small room where he found Dru trying to comfort the distraught woman.

“It hurts Dru! I can’t get rid of it!”

She looked up at Jack and he gasped. Her eyes were shimmering gold. He held up his Torchwood ID. “Excuse me Miss, but I need to ask you a few questions.”

She stood and held out her hand. “I have to give it back. This isn’t mine and I can’t give it to anyone else.” Jack took a step back but stopped when she whimpered in pain. “It burns. Mummy help me!” She collapsed to her knees and Jack found himself in Dru’s strong grip again as she pulled him down to his knees as well.

“What’s happening?”

“Your Time cannot be shared with my Song. She must give it back before it burns her soul.”

Jack opened his mouth to ask how but the young woman’s lips on his stopped the question. There was a strange rushing and then he felt something slide back into place. He hadn’t even realized he was missing anything.

He looked down to see Dru cradling the dark haired woman again.

“So tired. Need Sev Dru. Oz’ll take care of the rest.”

Jack bent to peer into the woman’s eyes and felt Dru grip his arm again. Her other arm was wrapped securely around her unconscious friend’s body and her hand was holding the pendant around the woman’s neck.

There was a wicked gleam in Dru’s eye and it was almost as if she could read his mind when she spoke with a giggle.

“We’re off to see the Wizard.”

Jack felt a sudden tingling and then a sharp tug just behind his navel. When he could orient himself again, he was sitting in a chair. He could hear voices in another room of what looked like a fairly large flat. He tried to stand, but was unable to move anything but his head.

“Hello? Could someone please untie me?”

He called out about every five minutes, hoping someone would answer him just to shut him up. The familiar weight of his watch/comm unit was missing so he couldn’t assume that his team would be riding to his rescue. The door opened and a rather tall, dark and very intimidating fellow entered; closing the door behind him with a sharp click. The man was, except for his pale skin; darkness personified. It had been a long time since a human had been able to intimidate him. The man studied Jack silently and the former Time Agent felt a sudden perverse urge to grin. Dark and brooding had its own appeal and Jack had found flirting was often times a useful disarming tool. The only response he received for his effort was a raised brow and a long stick pointed at his head. The man grabbed Jack’s chin in a firm grip and held his gaze with obsidian colored eyes; speaking in a deep sibilant voice. “Legilimens.”

Now, Jack had had some of the best psychics try and penetrate his mental walls without success. But this man slipped in without so much as a how-de-do. It wasn’t painful, but it was discomfiting and he tried to struggle. After what seemed like an age, the dark haired man released his chin and stepped back.

“I find myself disappointed in the large holes in your knowledge of the world Mr. Harkness. However, since this lack is through no fault of your own, I will overlook the issue of the near poisoning of my friend.”

Jack opened his mouth to respond, but that eyebrow twitched again and he felt compelled to remain silent.

“I was advised by Drusilla that I should offer you a choice. An ‘Obliviate’ of last night’s events or an Oath extracted from you to protect our family from the scrutiny of your rather dubious investigative unit.”

Jack felt a chill wash over him at the thought of someone else messing with his memories. He’d lost enough thanks to his fellow Time Agents thank you very much.

“Rest assured that my ‘Obliviate’ skills are vastly more precise than the swill your lot uses. You won’t even have a hangover. The Oath on the other hand would allow you to retain your memories, but prevent the use of them. If Hermione had only listened to me about Cardiff… But no. Severus is just a stick in the mud. Why should we be concerned about a little Rift? I ask you… No wait… ask that poxy little town in California. Sunnydale had to become a sinkhole to close that one. We’re supposed to leave for the States in four days and she just had to… Why am I telling you this?”

Jack attempted to reply but the other man cut him off again.

“We’re leaving the country for an extended amount of time, possibly permanent. I’ll be quite blunt with you Mr. Harkness. I simply cannot trust that an Oath would hold a non-magical being. I’ll be on the outs with Drusilla for a little while, but we’ll be safer all around if I just erase your memories of last night. Not to worry; I’ll only remove what pertains to my family.


Jack came to with a jerk and realized he was sitting in his vehicle, the early morning light just beginning to filter in through the windshield. He felt pretty rested and that was something amazing since he never slept. While enjoyable, last night had been waste of time. The musical group had been your average cover band and he vaguely remembered meeting a beautiful woman. There was also a vague impression of an impressively dark and brooding man as well. No alarm bells went off and so Jack started his vehicle and headed back to the Institute. He made a note to quietly suggest that Owen stop taking whatever drug he’d ingested for energy.


The End

You have reached the end of "No Time". This story is complete.

StoryReviewsStatisticsRelated StoriesTracking