Forget Not Me


A HUGE thank you to the fantastic Sidlerocks for going through after the fact and beta'ing this for me. And for her wonderful contributions to this saga, Interlude... and another tale that is forthcoming ;-)

Once again I would like to 'cast' one of my original characters:William Moseley (probably most notable as Peter in the Narnia movies) is who I would cast to play Kamden Anders.


Near the end of the 26th century, Jack meets someone who brings back a flood of old memories…but is it really him or does Jack just want it to be?


M, contains Jack Harkness…

Seriously, though, there is an element of sexual violence that while not graphic is most definitely relevant to the plot and therefore clearly visible.

Chapter One


To Live. To Love. To Remember. To Love Again.


The ship listed heavily to one side, nearly sending Jack tumbling out of his seat.

"What the Hell is going on out there!" he demanded angrily of no one in particular – or maybe everybody in general.

"Sorry Sir," the young man at the navigational controls flushed a deep shade of pink.

Jack stood up and stalked over to the kid, his ire openly displayed in the grimace on his face. "'Sorry' isn't an acceptable answer, Mister," he snapped.

The young man looked up at him, clearly petrified. He was new. They all were. Jack hated breaking in a new crew.

What Jack didn't know was that the kid was the least liked member of his new crew or why. It occured to him that two weeks out of port, he should probably know them all by name… try as he might, though, he couldn't remember what this one was called. He remembered seeing him around… the ship wasn't that big and there was only so much one could do in one's off duty hours. But Jack made it a point not to fraternize. He didn't want any of them getting their hopes up that he might hire them on permanently.

He never did.

One crew. One job. When the job was done, he hired a new crew. It might play havoc on his nerves every time had to break in a new bunch, but in the long run it was easier on him than getting attached.

The Captain sighed, settling his hands on his hips. "How old are you?" he asked in what he hoped was a less menacing tone. Scaring the crew half to death was no way to get the job done. It wasn't a very good way to start a six month salvage operation, either.

The kid at the nav controls hesitated before answering in a quiet tone, "Twenty next month, Sir."

"Why exactly did you sign on with me?" and why exactly did I let you? he wondered. Even with all the kids out there desperate to find jobs, a month shy of twenty was a little young to be flying a ship the size of his Bonny Welshman.

His crew was small; there weren't more than a dozen or so men and women aboard the medium sized F-class transport. F-class ships were designed to carry a crew compliment of at least twice that number, but the economy being what it was, everybody was cutting back. Which was why, Jack realized, he really should know this kid's name, at least from when he'd hired him…

He gave the kid a second look and realized he didn't actually remember signing him on. But Mr. Smeed, his first officer, may have done it. Smeed had a bad habit of going behind Jack's back and doing things like that… he was the only permanent member of Jack's crew.

The boy swallowed, but didn't seem to have an answer to the question.

"How long have you been flying?" Jack asked something he presumed the kid could answer.

"I… grew up on a ship, Sir. F-class, just like this one," he added in a hopeful tone.

So much for that assumption… Jack bit back his ire. "No formal training, I take it," he said what the kid wouldn't.

He knew that lots of kids grew up on ships, learned to do all kinds of things. Most of them could do their jobs better than the ones formally trained. But no one would hire anyone unless they had the Proper Certification. Only Proper Certification cost money and these days that was something few people had. Jack didn't care that his first officer overlooked a person's documented education…

The ship listed again.

Steadying himself against the young man's chair, Jack barked at him to either get the ship under control or get off the bridge.

"It's not me, Sir, I swear!"

Jack glared, but glancing down at the controls for himself, he could see that the kid wasn't lying. Every instrument had gone haywire. But with the economy what it was, it was hard to keep up with routine maintenance…

Another wild tilt brought the younger man flying out of his seat and right into Jack's arms. Jack caught him and took the brunt of the blow as they slammed into the bulkhead opposite the nav station. He held the boy a little tighter when the ship rocked again, sending them rolling. He ended up with the younger man laying on top of him, blushing uncontrollably. He scrambled off the Captain, frantically apologizing.

The rest of the bridge crew scrambled back to their stations.

"Leese – I want to know what the Hell is going on out there and I want to know it yesterday! Jennings – see if you can bump some power from auxiliary to get us leveled out. You," he looked to the blond…

"I'm sorry, Sir…"

Jack waved it off. "Just get back to your station and do your job." He would take up the subject of the kid's contract with Smeed later.


"You again," Jack muttered as the young pilot came out of the head. "If we keep meeting like this, the rest of the crew is going to start talking," he raised his eyebrows as he flashed a lascivious smirk. When he wasn't being tossed around his ship like a ragdoll, he was a lot less snarly. He hadn't even bothered to interrogate his first officer about hiring a kid so wet behind the ears he squeaked when he walked. Realistically, there wasn't much he could do about it, anyway. They were already out past the main shipping lanes. In another week, they'd be beyond known space all together. (Although by known all that was really meant was 'controlled' or 'patrolled'. People went mucking about in the uncharted, unclaimed, unpatrolled regions all the time. Not all of them came back, of course… hence, it was a great place to go looking for salable junk. It was also a great place for a man like Jack Harkness who had little to no tolerance for the current establishment.)

And he still didn't know that the rest of the crew was already talking about the attractive blond, standing right under his nose, blushing.

"Sorry…" the boy stammered. He looked like he was trying to figure out how to pass the Captain in the narrow corridor. There weren't too many options; squeezing by was the most practical.

Jack just shook his head, "Looks like I should have oiled up before deciding to take a leak," he teased, unable to help his expression as they pushed past each other. To his credit, the kid managed to laugh, just a little.

Entirely without his meaning it to, Jack's hand ended up where it shouldn't have.

"Careful. That's harassment, Sir…" the boy shot him a wink.

Jack stopped in his tracks, both hands planted firmly the kid's hips, keeping him from moving. "What did you just say?" he breathed, the familiar words bringing back a flood of bittersweet memories that had been silenced by the centuries.



Blue grey eyes.

Beautiful vowels.

His Welshman.

For an instant he could almost see Ianto's face in the dark of his memory… almost. Ultimately, all remembered were blue grey eyes, a cup of coffee, a suit… a pterodactyl… a stopwatch… a red beret. All he wanted to remember was the sound of a voice… the face of the man he'd loved…

The boy he was holding onto turned bright red, "I'm sorry Sir. It was just a joke… really, Sir. It was stupid of me. I know you didn't mean… I was just trying… I'll shut up now. Sir," he added quickly. "I'm sorry," he said again, anyway.

Jack took a breath. Just a joke. A harmless statement. A coincidence, just like earlier when he'd found this particular young man lying on top of him on the bridge. He forced a smile, "At ease, Kid. I really don't eat pilots for breakfast."

The boy didn't relax, even when Jack eased up his grip. He seemed unable to meet the Captain's gaze.

"What's your name, anyway?" Jack asked him.

"Anders. Kamden Anders."

Jack chuckled despite himself, "Well, Anders, Kamden Anders, if you'll excuse me, I've gotta answer Nature's call here."

Anders flushed, "Yes, Sir. I really am sorry. What I said. Sir."

"No harm done, Mr. Anders."

"Thank you, Sir," he squeezed past to let the Captain attend to necessities.


Kamden Anders was grateful when he found that his cabin mate, Torren Fletcher, wasn't in the cramped cubical they shared on one of the ship's lower levels.

Fletcher – or Fletch to his friends, something Kam wasn't – had been the first of the crew to figure out what he was, the first to see the tattoos on his wrists he tried so very hard to conceal beneath thick leather bracelets. But it was hard to conceal the truth on a ship this small.

The bracelets themselves were enough to suggest that there might be something worth hiding under them. And everybody knew what that something was likely to be. It hadn't taken the bigger man much effort at all to pin him down and pull them off, seeming to revel in his humiliation.

He'd begged Fletcher not to say anything… he'd satisfied the other man's brutal carnal desires to ensure his silence, but Fletcher couldn't seem to help himself but brag about his 'good luck' to have been assigned Kamden Anders as a cabin mate.

Kam let the hatch slide shut behind him and leant up against it, letting the cool of the metal soothe his nerves. They were only bruises. He'd had worse. It was the price one paid for being born poor. Pretty.

Biting back tears over a life over which he had had no control, Kam sank into his bunk.

All he had to do was get through six months. The pay off from his contract would be just enough to get the tattoos removed (as long as he didn't care too much about the scar that would be left behind, which he didn't.) There wouldn't be much left for him to live on, but on a salvage operation there was always the chance of a bonus at the end. Maybe. It didn't matter.

If did well, maybe he could get Mr. Smeed to write him a Letter. A Letter was almost as good as a Certification these days. With a Letter and the tattoos gone, he might be able to find a permanent position, something that didn't involve being on his back or on his knees.

Six months, Kam told himself. All he had to do was get through six months and he could really call himself a free man.


The first time I heard this song, I knew what the title of this story was going to be…

Forget me not, I ask of you
Wherever your life takes you to
And if we never meet again
Think of me every now and then

We had just one day to recall
Now all I want is something more
Than just a fading memory
Left wondering what could have been.

Isn't it a shame, that the timing's all wrong
You're doing what you never meant to,
There's always something that prevents you.
Well I believe in fate, it had to happen this way
But it always leaves me wondering whether...
In another life we'd be together.
We should feel lucky we can say... we've always got yesterday

And as I leave it all behind
You're still emblazoned in my mind
And for that very special day
Nobody loved me in that way

Forget me not, I ask of you
Wherever your life takes you to
And if we never meet again
Think of me every now and then

Forget me not I ask...
I ask of you

By Lucie Silvas