[AU Roger]

[more_flexible]

Christmas, 1989. He was still stuck in New York, waiting around for his new orders. Dinkins was mayor now, had been for two months. Jack's mission was complete and now all there was to do was bum around the city, take in shows, drink, eat, and try not to change history.

Pretty easy, when you thought about it. Jack treated it like shore leave, and he enjoyed everything the city had to offer. He'd forgotten how many gorgeous people were around this city. He'd forgotten what this time was like for some.

A stunning little latino queen had gotten him to come to Alphabet City to see some performance piece. It wasn't very good, but the woman was hot and the crowd migrated to the Life Cafe afterward and Jack tagged along. He had plenty of money and no qualms spending it on, well, everyone.

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[one--song.livejournal.com]

It was Roger's first night out since he'd come back from half a year of withdrawal, and things had gone... alright, considering. Collins' new love interest was pretty spectacular to be around. Mark had insisted and insisted that Roger leave the house and, in true Roger fashion, it wasn't until Mark had given up completely that he'd shoved his leather jacket on and left the house. Mark looked positively tickled that Roger had emerged, and maybe that was some of the reason he'd left the flat, but... well. He didn't know why. Maybe Angel.

Roger held the door for the crowd as they poured in, and he spotted Collins looking over his shoulder.

"Where's Mark?" It was a question Roger, himself had been going over in his head.

"I dunno, man." He sighed, the condensation escaping through cold, chapped lips. He jerked his head in. "Let's wait for him inside." Collins went through the door, and Roger followed.

[captainjack.livejournal.com]

Jack was already inside, talking to a table of people he'd seen before the police decided to beat heads in. He'd gotten a few out of the space before all hell broke completely loose, and found himself in the cafe. He still had his topcoat on and stood out, looking like he'd fallen out of World War II, but in this crowd it came off as vintage. He was just another unique person in a crowd of unique people.

And speaking of unique...he saw Angel come in with a couple men, one of which wasn't being fondled and fawned over. Jack smiled and excused himself so he could join them.

After a short disagreement about being seated and who was paying, Jack kissed Angel on the cheek and shook the man called Collins's hand, then turned his attention to the blond with great eyes.

"Hi," he smiled. "I'm Captain Jack Harkness," he said, offering the guy his hand.

[one--song.livejournal.com]

In less than 24 hours, things with Mark had become complicated and almost unwanted. It wasn't like they'd never fucked around before, but Roger had made the mistake of referring to his recollection of it for the first time, and he was afraid of what that meant. There was just so much he was afraid of.

The man's period dress caught his eye, first, and then he was kissing Angel on the cheek. She knew everyone, it seemed like, and it brought Roger back to a time that he had been that one... Whenever he'd walked into any room, 10 to 15 admirers on his ass at all times, begging for attention, fawning, kissing, flirting, biting their lips. He missed it. Almost as much as he hated the memory of it.

With a small wave to Rosie from across the room, Roger returned to the conversation. Collins, Angel, and the man- Jack, apparently- were all looking at him expectantly and that was when he realized that it was him being spoken to. He didn't think anything of it. Not yet.

"Captain of what?" Roger asked, regarding him in a way that screamed 'recluse.'

[captainjack.livejournal.com]

"Oh, you know," Jack replied with a vague wave of his hand. "O, Captain, my Captain...The stripes came with the jacket," he said, smiling brightly. Captain of the RAF 133rd had no sway in this day and age, but Jack did like the title.

He didn't look like he got out much and Jack made the quick decision to tone it down from brilliant to simply radiant. No need to overpower anyone. Especially anyone with a voice like that.

"Do you guys want to get a table? Tonight's on me, since Angel was sweet enough to get me down here," he said to everyone, even though he never took his eyes off Roger.

[one--song.livejournal.com]

So Roger's eyes went to the jacket and then back to Jack's face.

"A military man? Brave of you to show your face in these parts," Roger said, and his voice was deep, quiet, gravelly, perpetually like he'd just awoken from deep slumber, and punctuated with harsh New York consonants.

There was a resounding cheer in response to Jack's request, and the masses began shoving tables together, much to the dismay of the host. And in all the din, Jack was gazing at Roger as if he were the only person in the room, and that was when he dropped his gaze, cheeks flushing in the long-since unfamiliar tension.

"S'nice of you, man," Collins intoned, and went toward the table, arms around Angel.

Roger said nothing, he just inspected the room. So different from six months ago.

[captainjack.livejournal.com]

"Maybe once upon a time, but not anymore," Jack said, then nodded at Collins. "Hey, no problem. Nothing better than a post riot party, right?" he chuckled, taking a step away from the bustle of the crowd.

Which just happened to put him next to Roger.

"Want to go get a chair before they're all taken?" he asked quietly. It wasn't like he needed to make the suggestion at all because Mark was making certain Roger didn't remain by the doorway. Jack watched the two and wondered if it was actually a possibility the guy would run from a crowd of people who so obviously cared about him.

[one--song.livejournal.com]

The news that Jack was at the very least an ex military man was good news, and he seemed to fall in well with the idea of a riot, so Roger relaxed. A little.

Mark had come in the door and was blathering on about how they bought his riot footage, and Roger smiled at his best friend, and then the invitation was extended. Now there was expectancy hanging in the air, awaiting Roger's response.

"Yeah," he said to Jack, and he sat down between Mark and an empty chair. The room seemed satisfied.

[captainjack.livejournal.com]

Jack took a free chair across the table next to Angel and smiled through much of the conversation, until Benjamin Coffin the Third began to talk and the mood dropped rapidly. Being an outsider, he could only catch a little of what was going on.

Real estate dispute. Hmm, this might prove to be a little more interesting than he'd thought.

[one--song.livejournal.com]

Roger was having trouble tearing his eyes away from Jack. He was wondering about him, really. Where he came from, the reasons they'd never met, and what the hell he did to get his eyes so fucking blue.

And then Benny's hand landed on his shoulder and Roger was rocked from his trance. His reaction was almost automatic:

"Why did Muffy--"

"Allison." Benny's tone was sharp and hard. Roger looked less than phased, smirking to Mark.

"--miss the show?" He looked more than self-satisfied.

[captainjack.livejournal.com]

He lifted his glass to drink when Benny said there'd been a death in the family, and nearly choked when Angel stood and asked who died. He got the feeling he was out of an inside joke, but there was enough mirth that it was contagious. He watched Roger and Mark say to one another, 'Evita' and he couldn't take his eyes off that smile.

And before he knew what was going on, Mark was delivering a eulogy.

[one--song.livejournal.com]

Roger was extremely surprised when Mark stood, and even more so when words that so much resembled an anthem of their very lives. So he did what any man in his situation would do: stood up and held out his hands, eyes sparkling as Collins did the same. They chanted lowly under Mark's voice, looking around. Collins was looking for followers. Roger was trying to look anywhere but at Jack.

[captainjack.livejournal.com]

He was completely caught up in the crowd and the energy and the impromptu song. La vie beheme, indeed...these was the kind of people he could relate to. Before he really knew what the hell was going on, he was on the table with Angel, singing along with her. It was pure magic. It was a moment unlike any other...and somehow, he was keenly aware of one person more than any other in the crowd.

[one--song.livejournal.com]

There were moments where Roger was on the table, arm around Collins, and then he was playing his guitar, filming alternately, laughing and trying not to think about how he could feel Jack's eyes on him. What did he expect? He didn't know anything. He was so clearly a stranger and Roger was right at home, owning his discomfort, selling his life, and renting his emotions. He would never want to be a part of that if he knew.

He set his guitar down, a bit of the way away from the crowd. He just needed a moment.

[captainjack.livejournal.com]

Roger had seperated from the rest of the revelry and Jack made his way over, pulled almost magnetically. The way he played, the way he sang...Jack couldn't have kept away if he'd been paid to. Not even if he'd noticed how Roger had been desperately trying to pay attention to anything not Jack.

"Excuse me...did I do something wrong?" he asked, not loud enough for the rest to hear him. "You've been trying to ignore me all night long."

[one--song.livejournal.com]

The confrontation was unexpected, and Roger about jumped when he turned to see that Jack was standing in front of him. God damn it, this wasn't going to happen. He wasn't going to tell him, he wasn't going to argue... but for some reason, he didn't want him thinking that it was... because of him.

"I've been trying," Roger began trying to keep his voice level. "I'm not lying. No one's perfect; I've got baggage." He was babbling. Said too much. His voice was rising. He needed out.

[captainjack.livejournal.com]

He was cute when he was flustered. Jack smiled and ducked his chin, shaing his head slowly. "Life's too short, babe. Time is flying."

He stepped closer and looked up into Roger's eyes. God, those eyes. Of all the people here, this was the one person compelling enough to hold his attention.

"You've got your baggage. Hey, I've got mine," he continued. Everyone had something in their background, something they carried. Jack was no different. It might not be a matched set, but that didn't really have to keep them from traveling.

[one--song.livejournal.com]

Swallowing hard, Roger felt like something inside him was ticking, like time was running out and pretty soon his baggage would be laid out on the table for him. He didn't want that. Maybe he was afraid Benny would say something to be a dick, or maybe it was just some kind of... time bomb inside of him.

"I should tell you--"

[captainjack.livejournal.com]

"I've got baggage, too," he repeated softly. He was so used to lying about it all to fit in. Every time, every place, every person. Roger was just another one.

Except he wasn't. Jack could tell he'd been alone in his own way for so long.

"I should tell you--"

[one--song.livejournal.com]

"Baggage--" Was pretty much all Roger managed before the slow water was being prodded by everyone in the room with a rousing "WINE AND BEER!" He and Jack were still looking at each other, and Roger's urgency was justified when the pager on his belt went off. Shit. Fucking shit.

Roger reached down and silenced the thing, eyes wide, face a bit flushed, and ignoring the pills in his pocket. Maybe he wouldn't know. Maybe everyone in the room would disappear.

[captainjack.livejournal.com]

"AZT break!" cried some girl from across the room. Roger's beeper wasn't the only one going off. Jack had found himself in a room of people living with, really living, with disease. This fucking age...it wasn't fair. How could it be fair when some of the greatest minds, the greatest talents, had to be concerned with taking medication on time.

Jack's eyes dropped to the beeper, then he looked back up. And he smiled softly. "Let's just make this part go faster. You want to get some air?" he asked, nodding toward the stage door.

[one--song.livejournal.com]

Roger had no idea how to take it, the way Jack had reacted, but he nodded. Mark come out of seemingly nowhere with some water, and Roger dug a pill out of the bottle in his pocket, swallowed it, and chased it with some water. The entire time, his mind reeled and spun, heart racing. He could use a cigarette. And a moment alone, since all eyes were on them.

And with a nod to the door, Roger let Jack lead the way out, leaving Mark to follow them out with his eyes, a small, sad smile playing at his lips.

[captainjack.livejournal.com]

He lead him out into the night, the snow falling in big soft flakes. Jack pulled his coat around him a little tighter against the cold and turned to face Roger once he heard the door close behind them.

"I should tell you--" he began, then shook his head. "Here goes," he murmured to himself. A half a second and he'd closed the distance, standing against Roger, his coat having fallen open when he moved, leaving the fleeting heat of his body to radiate into the man.

As close as he was, along with the way he looked into Roger's eyes, his intentions were clear--his motives were pure.

[one--song.livejournal.com]

Yes, Jack's intentions were clear, but Roger didn't understand that his motives were pure. They were outside, it was freezing, and Roger could feel the eyes of the entire Life Cafe watching them from the comfort of the heat and booze.

"I'm... You understand? What it is? What I take. What I.... have." He couldn't look at Jack. Not yet.

[captainjack.livejournal.com]

"Of course," he replied as he brought his hand up to hold Roger's face. "I understand, Roger. It's...not going to keep me from kissing you. If that's alright with you, I mean."

The only movement was the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed and a soft brush of his fingertips beneath Roger's ear. Other than that, he waited.

Waited, and hoped.

[one--song.livejournal.com]

That was at least four kinds of OK. But God damn it, if only Roger could fucking get there. Be there enough to say it.

"Why?" Roger asked, sounding as if he was grasping at straws. "Why the fuck do you want this?"