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“Fuck.” Claire Fraser stood in front of the large monolith and pounded impotently on the rock. “Fuck! Fuuuccckkkkk!”
“Claire!” John Grey raced forward grabbing her arms and pulling her back. Absently he noticed a small drop of blood sliding down the side of her hand to her wrist. Pulling out a clean handkerchief, he struggled to wrap it around her hand as she continued trying to beat the rock.
“Ow!” She yanked her hand from his. “That hurt. What the fuck are you doing?”
“Your hand is bleeding,” he said through gritted teeth, “and I’m trying to stop it.”
“Here.” Yanking her hand from his, she unwrapped the cloth then ran a fingertip over the wound. “Ouch, damn, what is this?” Picking at the offending finger, she used her nails to draw out a small splinter of wood. “What the hell?”
“Claire.” He was exasperated, no doubt about it. Ever since arguing with Jamie the night before—he didn’t know what the argument was about, but he did know the sound of several hard objects hitting various spots on their bedroom wall—she’d been absolutely impossible. Why he’d volunteered to accompany her on this walk, he’d never know.
She looked up at him, anger temporarily quelled. “How the hell did I get a splinter?”
He could think of numerous ways, not the least of which was the seat in the privy or some of the unsanded walls of their house. He’d gotten a splinter just the other night when carelessly brushing his hand against a wall while lighting a sconce. “I don’t know,” he replied in a neutral tone. She really didn’t want an answer anyway.
Angrily, she turned back to the large standing stone, giving it a kick. “Why the hell don’t you work? I could use a break from that pigheaded sonofaScot. A day trip somewhere other than here would be nice right now.”
“What?” He looked from her to the monolith and back to her. What the hell was she talking about? And to a slab of solid rock? Perhaps she truly had lost her mind this time. ….or he had. No matter, he had to get her calmed down before returning to the house. His nerves couldn’t take a full day of fighting between her and Jamie.
“Claire,” he adjusted his voice to the calm quiet tone he always used when Willie was in the midst of a tantrum. “Come away from that. Tell me about this day trip you mentioned. I’m not familiar with that particular term. Come—”
“Oh shut up.” Glaring daggers, she started off down the path. “Leave me be.”
Eyebrows shooting up, John stepped back, palms extended in the universal sign for ‘don’t hit me, it’s not my fault.’ “Very well.” Standing quietly, he let her stomp off, imagining he could see smoke shooting from her ears and battle flags fluttering in the wind behind her.
Once more he sent up a silent prayer of thanks to the heavens that he hadn’t had to stay married to that woman. She and Fraser deserved each other. Suddenly he found himself regretting his decision to take a small detour on his way back north to Mount Josiah.
“Day trip,” he muttered, thinking about the strange term. She did sometimes use odd combinations of words, as did Brianna and Roger and, come to think of it, their children. What was it with that family?
Enough John, he chided, shaking his head. It was a beautiful day; a long walk in the fresh country air would do him good. And maybe a soft place to lie down and contemplate his future, what it would contain and who might be a part of it. He hadn’t thought about that for a very long time.
“Day trip,” he repeated, rolling the words around in his head. Take a trip for a day? Why? How? There was no place to go just for a single day away that didn’t involve at least several days of travel. While the idea, no the fantasy, of being able to travel to some exotic location and back in a single day’s time, was a delicious thought—especially if he had someone special to share the day with—it was a fool’s notion. He had no one special, probably never would. Bah—impossible!
Still, it was nice to dream.
He’d just turned away when he heard the sound of a door opening on slightly creaky hinges.
“See! I told you I could get the chameleon circuit working again.”
Whirling around, John saw a skinny man wearing strange clothing stepping through a doorway suddenly opened in the rock. “What?”
“Oh, hello,” the man said, coming up to John, taking his hand, and shaking it vigorously. “I’m The Doctor.”
“Lord John Grey,” he replied automatically, his mind still trying to comprehend how a door suddenly opened in solid stone. Then he blinked and the stone was gone. In it’s place stood a tall blue wooden structure with the words Police Box emblazoned above the door’s windows and a blue light on its top and some thin streams of smoke drifting up from underneath.
“See, Doctor. I told—” A tall man stepped from inside the box. “Well hello, handsome.” He smiled, an impossibly white perfect smile.
John caught his breath. This new stranger was beautiful, rich brown hair, piercing blue eyes, and a slight cleft in his chin.
Walking straight up to John, brushing the skinny man aside, the man leaned in. “Captain Jack Harkness, at your service.”
Harkness winked and John felt himself falling into those piercing blue eyes. Every single part of his anatomy was paying attention—one more than others.
Jerking his head back towards the box, Harkness looked John up and down, his smile growing. “Wanna go for a ride—get away? Just for a little while. Find a lovely spot to dine,” he leaned in to whisper in John’s ear, “take a nap.” His warm lips brushed John’s earlobe. “Then we’ll drop you back here with no one the wiser.”
“Jack….” The Doctor’s annoyed voice carried to them from his place in the open doorway.
“Jealous, Doctor?” Harkness asked over his shoulder. “I’m willing to share. That is…,” he turned back to John, “if you’re interested?”
Interested? In one of the handsomest men he’d met in years who was openly asking for him? With no one else around to fear? Yes. Yes, he was. For once in his life, he let something other than his brain do the thinking. Then his practical side slapped him back to reality. “Get away?”
“Just for a few hours. Then we’ll bring you right back here.”
A warm hand brushed his, the touch electrifying. “A few hours?”
"Did I mention this is a time machine?" Harkness asked casually. "Anywhere you want to go. Any time for however long."
"Then right back here? Today?"
Harkness nodded, grasping John’s hand firmly and pulling him toward the big blue box. “Uh huh, a day trip.”
John stopped, tightening his grip on the man’s hand. Silent acknowledgement and agreement passed between them, and he smiled. Lifting his free hand, he brushed Jack’s face before leaning in for a soft kiss. “Yes. I’d like that. Very much. A day trip.”
~fin~