Title: Something Borrowed, Something Stolen
By: misreall
Pairing: 9/Jack
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one. And I don't have the money to buy them if that were an option.
Summary: Nine and Jack talk fashion and the past. Briefly.

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Jack's eyes were sparkling, his grin toothy and his hair perfect, the last of which was always true. He wrapped and wrapped the enormous muffler around his neck. "This is amazing. Who knit this? There must be an entire planet of interstellar grannies out there who worked on this baby." He sniffed, "What's that smell? It's kind of sweet."

"Jellybabies." The Doctor's Northern accent echoed slightly from inside the hatch in the floor of the Tardis, "Couldn't get enough of ‘em."

"Aren't they those things that stick to your teeth and taste like really old Jello most of the time?"

"Yes they are. Absolutely revolting. Can't stand the little bastards." There was a banging noise, a smell of cordite, and then a faint blue mist. The Doctor sort of shimmied up from the hatchway and stepped, one long leg and then the other, out, hammered twice at a large yellow button on the control panel, and the Tardis sprang to its usual, noisy life.

Jack smiled, more sparkle, more teeth, "Soooo, I can have it?"

"No, I said borrow. Borrow. Not have." The Doctor smiled back, some sparkle, no teeth, hair-, well, he had hair. "I had some very fine times, some very fine times indeed, back when I wore that scarf. And I wore it for a damned long time, itching, wet wool smell and all." He cocked his head to emphasize his next words, "It has sentimental value." He turned away and started walking towards the Cloisters.

Jack followed, "You don't strike me as the overly sentimental type, Doc. It's just a scarf. And you always wear the same thing anyway. I really doesn't go with that whole French Resistance meets Metrosexual minimalism thing you've got going on."

The Doctor stopped and grabbed a bit of scarf, pointing to a tiny hole, "Got that when I was collecting the third piece to the Key to Time. It was hiding out as the Great Seal of Diplos and some bugger stole it. I was with Romana then. You would have liked her. She was tall and short, and dark and blonde, and haughty and cuddly, and smart and brave. Every thing a girl should be, really." He picked at a different piece, "This stain is from when I slipped on some mud on in the East End. Victorian era. Leela took the piss for me being so clumsy. Lovely girl too. Great with knife. She-" he stopped, scowling for a moment. "Never mind. And this," he held up an end and pointed to some singeing along the fringe, "this is from when I built my dog. For the first time." He dropped the edge and smiled again. Lots and lots of sparkle, still no teeth. Hair, still there. "So borrow, not have." He thumped Jack on the chest, "And don't you think of stealing it. Eyes in the back of me head."

Jack looked at the Doctor's hand on his chest, and quickly dropped a loop of the long, long scarf over the other man's head, using it to pull him close. He lifted himself up a bit to press a kiss up onto the Doctor's thin mouth.

Their lips opened a bit after the first, soft moment, and then their mouths. At first they just exchanged breath, and a gentle click of teeth. Jack's tongue slowly, methodically, stroked against the roof of the Doctor's mouth. Against his palate. They shivered at the same time, and the noise they made was the same. The Doctor's flattened palm tightened, pulling in a fist full of Jack's sweater. Jack pulled his mouth away first, lightly teasing the other man's lower lip as he went. He untangled them, and turned to walk toward the Cloisters.

"I've stolen kisses and diamonds. I've stolen hearts, and once even a crate full of cryogenically freeze dried llamas. They defrosted and crapped all over my ship. But I would never steal a man's past. Not even one as shiny and candy-scented as yours."

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