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mtxref_ficAuthor's Note: Written for < Lj user="love_bingo">'s "loneliness">. Pre-canon, featuring a very young Jack Harkness and an original male character.
Word Count: 872
Spaceports: the vital nodes of trade and travel, the pulse points that kept the lifeforce of civilization flowing among the planets, but also made them breeding grounds for the predators that would suck on that lifeforce, the vampires and mosquitoes looking for a quick meal or the means to keep their devious schemes going. Granger had seen them all, during his long hauls, and they never failed to sicken him, anger him.
He had unloaded his hauler and he was chilling in a dive bar before he went looking for another load that needed hauling, when he spotted the kid, looking out of place at the bar, a shade too young to hanging around this kind of place: a gangly kid, maybe seventeen annums old, dishwater blond hair starting to darken to brown, lightly tanned skin, blue eyes, still wearing the baggy layered clothes usually seen on the folk from Sirius 12. Looked like he had just left the Boeshane Peninsula and from the way he peered around him, looking at the patrons, he looked as though he was considering making the trade no kid should even think of making, even to get by. This kind of place brought in the hawks as easily as it brought in the mice, and the kid looked ready to be caught.
Pretty face, but strong, with an easy smile: the kid would be a looker when he grew into himself, and for the time being, he had that all arms and legs look that suggested he had had a recent growth spurt; rucksack at his feet, likely stuffed with all his worldly possessions he could call his own.
Granger sat down next to the kid, making it harder for the hawks to perch next to him. The moment he settled on the stool, he realized he had made the right choice: up close, the kid's hair and skin smelled of a dual-hung in season, maybe his first time, and he was far away from home, likely lonely into the bargain.
"First time in a space port?" Granger asked, looking at him.
"Nahh, been hitching on the spaceways for some time now," the kid said, trying to sound more seasoned than he was, the crack in his voice giving him away. "I'm Jax."
"Name's Granger. Where you headed, Jax, if you don't mind me asking?" Granger said.
"Cronus: I'm joining the Time Agency," Jax replied, reaching into his tunic, taking out a data pad and showing the flyer on the screen. Granger had seen the ads everywhere, plastered on the sides of freighters, emblazoned on hoverbillboards outside of spaceports: sounded like a bunch of opportunists, but he was hardly one to judge.
"Cronus, hey?" Granger said, raising an eyebrow. "You're a bit out of the way if you're heading there."
"Nothing beats the scenic route," Jax replied with a broad grin, a boyish grin full of hope and excitement, but it did not quite match the old look in his eyes. "I get to see parts of the universe I ain't seen before."
Poor kid, he could hardly help thinking. He had likely been a roaming soul stuck on that backwater rock.
Or worse: Granger remembered a news bulletin a few annums bacl, an attack on Sirius 12, Slave Gatherers taking people, pressing them into slavery. Poor kid might well had lost his whole family. No wonder he was running: nothing to go back to, and the whole universe ahead of him. And the Time Agency would give him more places to go, to get further away from not just the place, but the time. Maybe even try and go back and change it all.
"You got that right: whole reason I got into hauling," Granger said. "I'm between jobs myself: I'll see if I can't find a job heading in the direction of Cronus."
Jax's eyes brightened. "Really? Can I hitch a ride with you?"
"Sure thing: I was a kid who wanted to see the universe, just like you," Granger replied. "Left home a bit older than you: wanted to go sooner, but Ma needed me to help out around the farm for a bit longer."
Jax rolled his eyes in sympathy. "Oh yeah, my dad's wife -- she's not my real mom, or at least she didn't give birth to me -- she wouldn't let me leave home when I wanted to, not at first. Then the Time Agency said they were recruiting, so she had to let me go."
Well, that explained why he smelled like a dual: the kid's dad was likely a dual who'd birthed him. "So you're on your own now? That's gotta hurt."
Jax shrugged casually. "I've got me, just one back to look out for."
"Never hurts to have someone covering that back," Granger said, signaling the barkeep to refill the kid's sarsaparilla.
"And picking up my bar tab?" Jax teased.
"No potent stuff on my watch, you hear?" Granger said, serious.
"Awwww, just a sip?" Jax begged, his blue eyes turning warm and pleading.
"Not till you've got a few more annums behind you," Granger said. Lords, he sounded like his own father. And a father or someone like one was just what that kid needed.
Word Count: 872
Spaceports: the vital nodes of trade and travel, the pulse points that kept the lifeforce of civilization flowing among the planets, but also made them breeding grounds for the predators that would suck on that lifeforce, the vampires and mosquitoes looking for a quick meal or the means to keep their devious schemes going. Granger had seen them all, during his long hauls, and they never failed to sicken him, anger him.
He had unloaded his hauler and he was chilling in a dive bar before he went looking for another load that needed hauling, when he spotted the kid, looking out of place at the bar, a shade too young to hanging around this kind of place: a gangly kid, maybe seventeen annums old, dishwater blond hair starting to darken to brown, lightly tanned skin, blue eyes, still wearing the baggy layered clothes usually seen on the folk from Sirius 12. Looked like he had just left the Boeshane Peninsula and from the way he peered around him, looking at the patrons, he looked as though he was considering making the trade no kid should even think of making, even to get by. This kind of place brought in the hawks as easily as it brought in the mice, and the kid looked ready to be caught.
Pretty face, but strong, with an easy smile: the kid would be a looker when he grew into himself, and for the time being, he had that all arms and legs look that suggested he had had a recent growth spurt; rucksack at his feet, likely stuffed with all his worldly possessions he could call his own.
Granger sat down next to the kid, making it harder for the hawks to perch next to him. The moment he settled on the stool, he realized he had made the right choice: up close, the kid's hair and skin smelled of a dual-hung in season, maybe his first time, and he was far away from home, likely lonely into the bargain.
"First time in a space port?" Granger asked, looking at him.
"Nahh, been hitching on the spaceways for some time now," the kid said, trying to sound more seasoned than he was, the crack in his voice giving him away. "I'm Jax."
"Name's Granger. Where you headed, Jax, if you don't mind me asking?" Granger said.
"Cronus: I'm joining the Time Agency," Jax replied, reaching into his tunic, taking out a data pad and showing the flyer on the screen. Granger had seen the ads everywhere, plastered on the sides of freighters, emblazoned on hoverbillboards outside of spaceports: sounded like a bunch of opportunists, but he was hardly one to judge.
"Cronus, hey?" Granger said, raising an eyebrow. "You're a bit out of the way if you're heading there."
"Nothing beats the scenic route," Jax replied with a broad grin, a boyish grin full of hope and excitement, but it did not quite match the old look in his eyes. "I get to see parts of the universe I ain't seen before."
Poor kid, he could hardly help thinking. He had likely been a roaming soul stuck on that backwater rock.
Or worse: Granger remembered a news bulletin a few annums bacl, an attack on Sirius 12, Slave Gatherers taking people, pressing them into slavery. Poor kid might well had lost his whole family. No wonder he was running: nothing to go back to, and the whole universe ahead of him. And the Time Agency would give him more places to go, to get further away from not just the place, but the time. Maybe even try and go back and change it all.
"You got that right: whole reason I got into hauling," Granger said. "I'm between jobs myself: I'll see if I can't find a job heading in the direction of Cronus."
Jax's eyes brightened. "Really? Can I hitch a ride with you?"
"Sure thing: I was a kid who wanted to see the universe, just like you," Granger replied. "Left home a bit older than you: wanted to go sooner, but Ma needed me to help out around the farm for a bit longer."
Jax rolled his eyes in sympathy. "Oh yeah, my dad's wife -- she's not my real mom, or at least she didn't give birth to me -- she wouldn't let me leave home when I wanted to, not at first. Then the Time Agency said they were recruiting, so she had to let me go."
Well, that explained why he smelled like a dual: the kid's dad was likely a dual who'd birthed him. "So you're on your own now? That's gotta hurt."
Jax shrugged casually. "I've got me, just one back to look out for."
"Never hurts to have someone covering that back," Granger said, signaling the barkeep to refill the kid's sarsaparilla.
"And picking up my bar tab?" Jax teased.
"No potent stuff on my watch, you hear?" Granger said, serious.
"Awwww, just a sip?" Jax begged, his blue eyes turning warm and pleading.
"Not till you've got a few more annums behind you," Granger said. Lords, he sounded like his own father. And a father or someone like one was just what that kid needed.
