Show/Ship- Doctor Who.Nine/Rose
Prompt- #3 Spiking the drinks
Disclaimer- D.I. Carlisle is mine. Honest.
Summary- Jack will be in trouble once the Doctor recovers ... well, it was his idea.
A/N- Happy!Who fic!
Drunk Time Lord: Spiking the drinks.
When it all came down to it, Jack knew full well that he’d get the blame.
After all, it had been his idea to cheer Rose up after leaving Mickey in Cardiff.
It had been his idea to take them to a bar out in the Horsehead Nebula which offered the best cocktails in the whole universe.
It had been his idea to set up a tab and it had been his teasing that got the Doctor drinking.
And maybe it had been slightly irresponsible to add a little something of his own to the alcoholic mix.
How was he to know that the Doctor may have been allergic to aspirin but that Larprek juice had a slightly more intoxicating effect on Time Lords?
Rose leaned over to him. “You do realise that he is going to kill you tomorrow?”
“If he remembers,” Jack replied, irritated by the squeak in his own voice.
Rose gave her a patently disbelieving look “Oh, I think he’ll remember when he wakes up surrounded by purple feathers and sporting a new tattoo.”
“We nixed the tattoo,” Jack reminded her. “Got to him just in time. We can hide the feathers and the … tar. Give him another hyper-vodka and he won’t remember a thing.”
Yeah, because if he had gone through with it, waking up with a tattoo that read “Touch this Time Lord” wouldn’t have been memorable.
Of course it had been his suggestion that Jack get “Space Slut” tattooed on his back and Rose get decorated with “TARDIS groupie” that had made them stop him.
They had, in their defence, tried to prevent him from making a fool out of himself on the dance floor but had given up just before the Macarena—a dance infected upon Earth by bored aliens form Hydrofax IV—and straight after the Space Salsa.
The Doctor danced. Just not very well.
Rose held up her mobile with its camera function. “Do you honestly think I’m not going to use this as blackmail?”
Jack made to grab the phone but Rose was faster. “Oh, no, you don’t. This is worth everything he does to us.”
She thought for a second on some of the more inventive plans of the Doctor. “Maybe.”
“To you maybe,” Jack mumbled as he watched the Doctor press against a geriatric Delf Lizard, knowing that there was no way that he was going to get out of this alive.
“Think I could go on the lam?”
“He’d catch you,” Rose said cheerfully. “He’ll remember that he goosed you … and me, and hunt you down to the edge of the universe.”
Jack sunk in his seat. “Oh, yeah.”
Rose sipped her water. “You could get brownie points if you tell him that you refused his offer of a threesome.”
Jack blanched. “Him, me and the fern?” he looked at the corner plant and shuddered. “I’m not that flexible.” He gave her a look. “Why are you not more upset that you weren’t in on that?”
Rose blushed. “I got my own offer, thanks.”
“Oh?” Jack looked on in interest but Rose was saying nothing. He suddenly pitched his head into his hands. “He’s really gonna be mad isn’t he?”
“What, Mr. Reserved, Mr. Restrained, Mr. Always in control, mad that under the influence of your spiked drinks he sang the opening song to the biggest musical in the universe?” Rose swirled her glass. “He’ll be pleased he’s getting the coverage.”
Rose grinned. “You could always offer to make him breakfast. Greasy fry-up.”
“You’ve got this sadistic streak that under other circumstances I’d explore,” Jack said, “But I like my insides where they are.”
“Look on the bright side. Maybe he won’t mind so much,” Rose tried, realising that Jack really was upset.
There was crackle of static from the microphone where the Doctor had been entertaining the crowds with off-colour jokes for the past half-hour, when he wasn’t chatting up plants or Venusians.
“I want to dedicate this song to my companions, Rack and Jose …. Rack,” he paused and shook his head as if to clear it. “An old Earth classic. The Time Lord Time Warp!”
Rose’s jaw dropped along with Jack’s heart as the familiar strains to Rocky Horror started up.
Jack groaned and hit the table with his head. “I’m gonna die.”
“You’re going to die,” Rose agreed.
“He’s gonna kill me!”
“He’s going to kill you.”
“Well,” Jack sat up and suddenly downed his drink. “Let’s go out with a bang.” He stood up and held a hand out for her. “Let’s do the Time Lord Time warp.”
“Get bent,” Rose suggested.
“Come on Rose, time is fleeting.”
“Madness takes it toll on you if you think I’m embarrassing myself like that,” she said with a laugh.
Jack leaned in. “I could let slip that you were the one who gave his number to the waiter with the rippling pecs.”
Rose looked over to the green-skinned waiter who was watching the gyrating Doctor with an appreciative eye. Just the one.
She winced. “All right then. Lead on Space slut.”
“Oh, come on, kill joy. It’s just a step to the left.”
“Its jump to the left, step to the right,” she found herself correcting.
Jack smirked. “See, you’re a natural.”
Rose decided then and there to flush Jack out of the nearest airlock.
“Is that an offer?”
Rose told him exactly what he could do with his offer and was reluctantly led into the alien version of the Time Warp.
Where were rampaging hoards when you needed them?
Oh, right, they were over there doing the pelvic thrust.
When she got back to the TARDIS she was washing her brain out with bleach.
Right before she helped the Doctor kill Jack.