Work Text:
Jack was not used to being ignored. He’d travelled widely, even before meeting the Doctor, and a hello from him had always elicited an answer, often a smile in species that had the wherewithal to smile, but always at least some sort of acknowledgement. He had heard so much about The Ponds from the Doctor that he’d looked forward to meeting them but he hadn’t envisioned being dismissed as unimportant in favour of Methos. The Doctor patted him on the arm.
“Never mind, Jack.”
Rory, with his kind eyes, had shrugged apologetically and whispered,
“I think it’s probably the nose.”