Disclaimer: Do you know how hard I would ship myself in this if I had the option? Clearly none of them belong to me; otherwise I would take advantage of them in real life, not fanfiction.
A/N: Writing this beauty for my roommate, Alyssa, (and my girls, Emily and Thea.) We decided there need to be some Doc/River/Jack love out there. So here it is!
The console let out another burst of fireworks and the Doctor lost his balance for a moment, grabbing onto a lever that forced a buzzing sound next to his ear. The knob under his left hand started to violently vibrate, forcing him to the floor. More sparks emanated from main dash and he tried to stand but the movement of the TARDIS kept him on the ground. Around him things sputtered and lights flashed from every corner of the room.
And then it stopped. The movement ceased and the Doctor righted himself against the wall. The front door swung open. He heard the sound of high heels against the floor of his TARDIS and he looked up to see her, dressed to the nines in a deep purple cocktail dress.
"Hello, Sweetie," came the voice of River Song.
"I'm sorry that the distress call was so…" she paused for the word, "rambunctious." She leaned against the console, the slit in her dress making way for a tantalizing view of her skin, and distracting the Doctor from his task of fidgeting with buttons and grabbing at levers.
"She'll survive," he mumbled off handedly, "Not sure I will, though. Had a bit of a nasty spill."
"I'm sorry, Sweetie," River whispered, walking up behind him, and placing her hands on his shoulders.
"You really need to," she paused, grinding her fingers in his back. "Relax." He tried to will himself not to lean into her touch, but something about the roll of her thumbs against the loosening knot in his back made it extremely difficult.
" It's hard to relax," the Doctor declared, finally gaining his composure, "When you lot keep dropping in all the time and sending me violent distress calls."
" That reminds me," River said, taking a step back and walking towards the monitor on the console. "We have to go pick up Jack."
"Harkness," she replied, setting coordinates into the computer and avoiding the look that he shot her from over the dash.
"You might know him as Captain Jack," she teased, " Or intergalatical man of mystery?" She looked up at him, "His title, not mine."
"Hang on a minute," the Doctor, told him, moving the computer monitor out of River's line of vision. "You think you can just break down my spaceship, waltz in here in and start programming destinations into my console?" He looked at her.
River just laughed. "Oh, Sweetie," she said, giving a final pull to a particularly large lever. "I can do so much more than that."
"At least tell me where we are," the Doctor demanded, as they emerged from the TARDIS.
"Earth," she began, closing the door behind them. "America, Chicago, 1922."
The Doctor took in his surroundings. It was no wonder they hadn't been noticed. In the dark haze of cigarette smoke the room took on an unrealistic feel. The jazz musicians on stage blew notes to a wildly dancing floor of beautiful women in red dresses and men wearing unbuttoned shirts and loose flying morals barely hidden under their unclipped suspenders. The smell of whiskey hit the air with an ease of enviable proportion and the room was filled with such grace and motion that all ill feelings of before left the Doctor almost instantly.
"Now that's more like it," he cried, looking at River. He was rewarded with only a smile. "Now what are doing?"
"We have to save Jack," she replied, grabbing his hand and leading him through the crowds of gyrating bodies.
"From what?" The Doctor asked, but wasn't rewarded with an answer.
She led him through the dance floor and into a small alcove, where dozens of tables were hidden deep in the shadows. These tables moved in the darkness and seemed to whisper of gambling bootlegging and sweet jazzy romance that ruled lust to the depths of pleasure. And then came the voice.
"Took you long enough." And with a tip of a deep grey fedora there he was.
The Doctor couldn't deny that the 1920s fit both of his friends quite handsomely. River's cocktail dress did little to conceal the sweet swelling curves of a woman's body and the slit upon the side offered him a teasing glimpse of her upper thigh.
Jack, on the other hand, held none of that refinement. In the shadows the Doctor could see that his white button down t-shirt was tucked into his slacks. He had popped the first three buttons, allowing the masculine glow of muscle that flickered in the smallest candlelight.
" Saving from what?" The Doctor asked, realization dawning on him. "River," he paused. "Jack. What's going on here?"
"You've been traveling alone for too long," Jack began, once River had managed to usher the Doctor into a seat at the table. "It's time you relaxed." His words mimicked the ones River had spoken earlier, but while hers had been purred, like the call of a jungle cat, Jack's were predatory, carnal.
" So this was a trick," he asked, flatly, giving no sign of the emotions he felt. River licked her lips before bringing them into a purse.
"Spoilers," she whispered, tilting her head back and giving him a view of her neck that ran sweet and uninterrupted to the valley of her breasts, half hidden in the shadows.
"I should be mad at you both," the Doctor said turning. " I should be so mad at you both."
"But," Jack offered.
" But I'm not." He replied, turning around. River walked up behind him and began to kneed his back again.
" River, prove me right, in not leaving right now."
" Jack was right," River whispered. "You have grown up."
" But we can help you," Jack told him. " You just have to let go." The Doctor turned to face them both.
" For tonight," he said. "I'm yours, both of yours, for tonight."