Disclaimer: I do not own Captain Jack Harkness or any of the Shinigami (still plotting to gain possesion of Alan and Eric)
Author's Note: Class finished today, so I actually have some free time again. Yay! I've recently relapsed into Kuroshitsuji obsession(read: Alan and Eric obsession), so here's a fun little crossover featuring Captain Jack and the shinigami. Just FYI, this takes place sometime before the Jack the Ripper arc in Kuroshitsuji and shortly before Jack meets the Doctor for the first time in Doctor Who. Enjoy!
Captain Jack Harkness glanced around the tavern and checked the date on the newspaper some guy was reading. Yep, this was definitely Victorian England, Earth. He looked at the ancient vortex manipulator strapped to his wrist. Maybe he was finally getting the hang of using it. Granted, it was a few years off the date he had programmed into the device, but that was a whole lot better than a few centuries off, or a few planets off. And he'd only come here for a vacation, anyway. It didn't have to be that exact right time.
He strolled up to the bar and ordered a beer from the bartender, who was shooting suspicious glances at his clothes. But, like all good bartenders, he didn't hesitate to serve a drink to anyone who could pay. And Jack had remembered to bring the correct currency this time, so everything worked out. Jack casually sipped his beer and cast a glance over the many patrons visiting the tavern. It was a Friday night, so the room was packed, but no one really interested the handsome time traveler. Then, he noticed a young man sitting alone at a small table in the corner. Every few seconds, the brown haired man would nervously adjust his glasses or tie and glance around the room. Must have been stood up by his date. Jack could hardly believe anyone would be crazy enough to leave a cute guy waiting like that.
"Well, I suppose someone else's loss is my gain," he muttered.
He stood up and sauntered over to the brunette's table, casually taking a seat.
"So, what's your name?" he asked.
The young man started.
"Where did you come from?" he asked.
"I was standing at the bar and you looked kind of lonely, so I figured I'd come over and chat with you," Jack said. "I'm Captain Jack Harkness."
"Alan, eh? That's a cute name."
Alan gave him an odd look.
"You didn't have to come talk to me because I looked lonely," he said. "I don't need your pity. Anyway, I'm not alone. My friend just went to get some drinks for us."
"Your friend's been away for a while," Jack observed. "Are you sure you weren't just abandoned?"
Alan smiled slightly.
"That wouldn't happen," he insisted.
"Then why do you keep looking around nervously?" Jack asked. "Face it, your friend abandoned you. But I'm here, right? I'm sure we could have plenty of fun without that friend of yours."
Alan suddenly smirked wickedly and leaned forward.
"What kind of fun?"
Jack congratulated himself on picking the right guy to pick up.
"Well, there's a nice cheap inn down the street," Jack suggested. "How about you and me rent a room for the night and-"
"Finish that sentence and I'll kill you," a voice behind him declared.
The sudden pressure of cold steel on his throat persuaded him that shutting up would probably be the wisest course of action.
"You should have seen your face, Eric," he said.
"Alan, I've told you; you need to learn to handle these situations yourself," the man behind Jack, presumably Eric, said with a sigh. "I won't always be around to protect you."
"Yes you will," Alan replied. "Besides, it's not like I couldn't take him. It's just more fun watching you get all worked up."
Were they flirting?
"Hey, can you get your knife away from my throat?" Jack requested.
"It's a scythe," Eric told him.
Jack craned his head to see the weapon.
"It looks like a handsaw to me," he observed.
How was no one else in the tavern noticing this?
"It's definitely a scythe," Alan told him.
"If you say so. Now, can you get it away from my throat?"
The weapon was grudgingly moved away from him. Eric then proceeded to completely ignore him as he sat down and handed Alan a cup of tea. The saw had mysteriously disappeared.
"Sorry I took so long," he said. "This place is out of tea, so I had to run to the shop up the road."
"Thanks, Eric," Alan replied. "You're the best."
"Someone's got his dog well trained," Jack remarked.
"Why are you still here?" Eric asked. "Leave."
Jack casually leaned back in his chair.
"You can't make me," he said.
"Do you really want to test that theory?" Eric asked.
"Give it your best shot," Jack offered.
He had spent years learning pretty much every form of self defense in the galaxy. None of that training helped him when Eric's fist connected with his face at about seventy bajillion miles per hour. He toppled backwards in the chair, slamming his head against the floor.
"Oww," Jack muttered, rubbing his head and checking to make sure his nose wasn't broken.
"He's still conscious?" Alan remarked. "You must have gone easy on him."
"I didn't want to have to deal with the paperwork if I killed him," Eric replied.
The two laughed. Alan leaned over and kissed Eric on the cheek. Eric smiled and ruffled Alan's hair affectionately. Jack watched them with a hint of disbelief. Not only had he been rejected, but the guy who'd rejected him had been playing with him. That wasn't how it worked. Jack played with other people. Other people did not play with him.
Alan turned to face him.
"Jack, listen," he said. "I'm sure you didn't mean any harm. However, Eric is a bit protective of me, so you should probably go try your luck elsewhere."
A bit protective? Talk about understatement of the century. Still, Jack didn't have a death wish, so he retreated to the bar and ordered another beer.
"Ahh, love hurts, no?" a voice commented beside him.
He stared at the weird guy with long, bright red hair sitting next to him and wondered how he hadn't noticed him before.
"You could say that," Jack muttered, rubbing his head.
"I wasn't talking about you," the red-haired man told him. "I was talking about them. Poor Eric."
"Poor Eric?" Jack remarked. "What about poor Jack?"
"You deserved it," the man insisted. "Alan and Eric don't get to spend nearly enough time together as it is. It was incredibly rude of you to try and but in. I was about to come over and get rid of you myself."
"How was I supposed to know the guy was taken?" Jack asked. "It looked like he was alone."
"I suppose I can forgive you, but you'd better not try that again."
"I'm not stupid," Jack muttered.
He noticed a tall, black haired man enter the tavern.
"That guy looks like fun," he remarked.
A sudden revving sound drew his attention back to the redhead next to him. What the hell? Where had he gotten a chainsaw from?
"That's my Will!" the redhead told him, an evil glint in his eye. "Lay one hand on him and I'll kill you."
"Okay, okay, I've got it," Jack said, holding his hands up in mock surrender.
Why did all the good ones have protective boyfriends? It just wasn't fair.
"Grell Sutcliffe, please put that thing away," Will ordered.
"But Will," Grell whined. "He was looking at you."
"People have the freedom to look in whatever direction they like," Will told him. "Now put your scythe away before I have to confiscate it."
Grell obeyed with a sigh. What was up with everyone calling their weapons scythes?
"He was hitting on Alan, too," Grell added.
Will looked at Jack, noting the quickly developing black eye.
"It appears Eric dealt with that," he remarked.
He turned to Jack.
"I apologize for my subordinates' behavior," he said. "I hope you weren't too inconvenienced."
"No problem," Jack replied. "It was partially my fault anyway."
"Come along, Sutcliffe," Will said, grabbing his subordinate by the collar. "We have to get back to work. Humphries! Slingby!"
Alan and Eric looked up. Seeing Will, they sighed and began making their way across the room.
Jack ordered another beer and sat back to watch. This was shaping up to be an interesting evening, even if he hadn't managed to get a date yet.
"Is it really that important?" Eric asked. "Alan's tired. We were only on break for an hour."
"I'm fine, Eric," Alan insisted.
"You don't need to push yourself so hard," Eric told him. "No one will think any worse of you."
Alan sighed and hugged Eric.
"You're sweet," he said. "But I'm really fine. It doesn't hurt too much."
"You're sure?" Eric asked. "If you have another attack during this mission I'm never letting you out of the house again."
Alan kissed him.
"Could you two stop messing around so we can get to work?" Will remarked.
"We're ready," Alan assured him.
"Good," Will replied. "Honestly, your little office romance is getting out of hand. I'm starting to wonder if I shouldn't move you to separate departments."
Eric wrapped a protective arm around Alan and glared defiantly at Will.
"Ooh! Will! We could have an office romance!" Grell declared, latching onto his superior's arm.
A long pole with what looked like hedge clippers on the end appeared in Will's hand and was used to hit Grell before disappearing again. Where were all these weird weapons coming from?
"Why did Knox have to call in sick today of all days?" Will muttered. "It's a big job today. We could really use that stupid lawnmower of his."
"What are you guys? Time-traveling gardeners or something?" Jack asked.
The group shared an amused look.
"Something like that," Eric said.
As they began leaving, Jack couldn't resist calling after Will.
"Hey! If you ever get tired of the redhead, I'll be around!"
The effect was instantaneous. The hedge clippers on a stick yanked him forward by his collar, and Grell's chainsaw reappeared, uncomfortably close to his face.
"Jack Harkness, do you know how close I am to ignoring all company policy and taking your soul right here and now?" Will asked. "I suggest you remove yourself from the premises as soon as possible and never let me see your face again."
"Okay, okay, sorry!" Jack said. "It was just a joke."
Will did not seem amused. Neither did Grell, although Eric looked like he was stifling laughter and Alan's eyes betrayed his amusement.
"Hey, guys, what's up?"
Jack felt Will's weapon release his collar as the man turned to face this new arrival. Now would probably be a good time to make an escape, but his curiosity was getting the better of him. So, instead, he took a seat and settled down to watch.
"Ronald Knox, I thought you were sick," Will remarked.
Ronald, a friendly-looking guy with two colored hair, did a double take upon seeing Will.
"Oh, hi, boss," he said. "I was just going to get some medicine and I saw you guys in here, so I figured I'd drop in and say hi."
That was probably one of the worst excuses Jack had ever heard.
"Knox, if you're well enough to be out drinking, you're certainly well enough to come out on a job with us," Will insisted.
"Aw, come on," Ronald whined.
"We're all stuck doing it," Eric reminded him. "You should be helping. It only fair."
"Just because some people have used all their sick days…" Ronald muttered.
Even Jack could tell that that had been the wrong thing to say. The entire group tensed up. Alan clung to Eric's arm, although it was unclear whether he was seeking comfort or restraining his friend. Maybe both. Ronald looked nervously at the floor.
"Sorry, Alan," he said. "I didn't mean it that way."
"I know," Alan replied.
But the damage had obviously been done.
"It's just, I'm supposed to be meeting this girl and I really don't want to have to work right now. I've spent weeks convincing her to go out with me."
"Hey!" Jack called. "What's this girl of yours look like? I'll be sticking around for a while, so I can tell her you couldn't make it."
"Blonde, pretty, goes by Grace," Ronald told him. "Thanks man!"
"No problem," Jack replied.
Luckily, the rest of the group seemed to think Ronald deserved getting his girlfriend stolen, so no one called Jack out on it.
As the group left the tavern, Jack let a devilish grin spread across his face. Maybe this wouldn't be such a bad night after all.
Thanks for reading.
Please put your heart and soul into your review. Hearts will be used to decorate Grell's dialogue and souls will be donated to Eric so he can save Alan from the Thorns of Death. Thank you.