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mtxref_ficAuthor's Note: Written for < lj user="comment_fic">'s any, any/+any, driving through the night. Remix of This fic. Set between the last two episodes; featuring Esther Drummond and Jack Harkness.
Late night driving, somewhere on a Minnesota back road, just the two of them. Esther at the wheel with the radio on low, tuned to the classic rock station. The music would keep her alert, but it would not disturb Jack, who lay stretched out in the back seat, dozing in peace for a change.
At length, Esther allowed herself the luxury of a slightly choked chuckle, a soft sound, just audible over the music.
"Hm?" Jack asked, sleepily, shifting as he awakened. "Something I said?"
"No, I was just thinking. I hope I didn't disturb you."
"Nah, pain drugs are wearing down; I was awake anyway."
"Want me to stop and find you another dose?" she asked, glancing to the large satchel in the passenger seat beside her. Their supply of painkillers had run down and they had miles to go before they reached the next town with a good pharmacy.
"I'm good, just restless and tired of sleeping. And you probably need someone to talk to and keep you alert."
She let herself smile a bit. He might not be willing to volunteer information about himself, but get him talking about his adventures and the strange things he had seen and she would have no trouble staying awake. "Yeah, the radio's nowhere as good company as you are."
"In that case, care to tell me what made you giggle there?"
"Oh, it was nothing. I was just thinking of a TV show I used to watch as a kid, with my dad. It was about a guy on the run from the police for something he didn't do."
Jack's greatcoat rustled as he pulled himself up into a half-sitting posture, wedging himself up into the corner of the back seat. "Ahh, would that be 'The Fugitive'?"
"Yeah, it's silly to think of something like that, but it popped into my head just now. It was a good show, but just now, it got a bit too real for me."
"Fun to watch, but tough to live, when you're the one living that kind of life?" Jack asked.
"Yeah... I... Yeah, except that we're not exactly criminals," she said, glancing away to watch the ghostly cobwebs of a wire fence that lined the road, the wraith-like shapes of the fading cornstalks in the fields, half-lit by the cones of light from their headlamps. "Or least... well, I suppose since I'm in the wind, I am."
Jack chuckled. "If going AWOL from the CIA the worst thing you ever do, Esther Drummond, that hardly makes you a criminal. Bit more to it than running from a government agency. If anything, we're the good guys, on our way to set things right."
"But we're... not exactly living like good guys: we're using fake IDs to get the stuff we need, and our credit is a bit... suspicious."
He shifted, sitting up straighter with a soft grunt of pain as he moved into the range of the rear view mirror, then looked into it, meeting her gaze in it. "Sometimes, doing what needs to be done means doing things you usually wouldn't do and bending a few rules along the way. Been down that road before many times."
"Cracking a few eggs to make an omelet, right?" she said, dryly.
He gave her a wry grin and settled back. "You got it. And now that you're mentioning omelets, you just made me hungry."
"We'll find something soon, it's almost morning, and we should start looking for a place to stop and rest."
"Someone's barn, maybe? I've slept in my share of barns, and haylofts are always fun places for a pair of lonely wanderers," Jack said, with that playful leer of his. At least his sense of humor and his friskiness remained intact.
"Jaaack," she retorted, but she could not help the smile that crossed her face. He had a way of keeping it light in the midst of the darkness that surrounded them. Not the literal darkness, which would fade with the coming daylight, but the darkness that filled the world, the darkness brought on by the near faceless organization that had woven a web around the human race. The same darkness that now pursued them, sent them fleeing across the country.
She felt her smile fading at these thoughts. "Getting tired?" Jack asked, settling back on the seat.
"Yeah, just the late night and the long road ahead of us," she fibbed. A road sign flickered by reading: Lake Winnebegosh 15 miles. "Looks like we got a town up ahead. Maybe we won't have to spend the day in that barn, and we can get you a real place to rest."
"Aww, and here I was hoping for a nice straw bed to sleep on: they're more comfortable than they sound," Jack replied, as if speaking from the voice of experience.
Late night driving, somewhere on a Minnesota back road, just the two of them. Esther at the wheel with the radio on low, tuned to the classic rock station. The music would keep her alert, but it would not disturb Jack, who lay stretched out in the back seat, dozing in peace for a change.
At length, Esther allowed herself the luxury of a slightly choked chuckle, a soft sound, just audible over the music.
"Hm?" Jack asked, sleepily, shifting as he awakened. "Something I said?"
"No, I was just thinking. I hope I didn't disturb you."
"Nah, pain drugs are wearing down; I was awake anyway."
"Want me to stop and find you another dose?" she asked, glancing to the large satchel in the passenger seat beside her. Their supply of painkillers had run down and they had miles to go before they reached the next town with a good pharmacy.
"I'm good, just restless and tired of sleeping. And you probably need someone to talk to and keep you alert."
She let herself smile a bit. He might not be willing to volunteer information about himself, but get him talking about his adventures and the strange things he had seen and she would have no trouble staying awake. "Yeah, the radio's nowhere as good company as you are."
"In that case, care to tell me what made you giggle there?"
"Oh, it was nothing. I was just thinking of a TV show I used to watch as a kid, with my dad. It was about a guy on the run from the police for something he didn't do."
Jack's greatcoat rustled as he pulled himself up into a half-sitting posture, wedging himself up into the corner of the back seat. "Ahh, would that be 'The Fugitive'?"
"Yeah, it's silly to think of something like that, but it popped into my head just now. It was a good show, but just now, it got a bit too real for me."
"Fun to watch, but tough to live, when you're the one living that kind of life?" Jack asked.
"Yeah... I... Yeah, except that we're not exactly criminals," she said, glancing away to watch the ghostly cobwebs of a wire fence that lined the road, the wraith-like shapes of the fading cornstalks in the fields, half-lit by the cones of light from their headlamps. "Or least... well, I suppose since I'm in the wind, I am."
Jack chuckled. "If going AWOL from the CIA the worst thing you ever do, Esther Drummond, that hardly makes you a criminal. Bit more to it than running from a government agency. If anything, we're the good guys, on our way to set things right."
"But we're... not exactly living like good guys: we're using fake IDs to get the stuff we need, and our credit is a bit... suspicious."
He shifted, sitting up straighter with a soft grunt of pain as he moved into the range of the rear view mirror, then looked into it, meeting her gaze in it. "Sometimes, doing what needs to be done means doing things you usually wouldn't do and bending a few rules along the way. Been down that road before many times."
"Cracking a few eggs to make an omelet, right?" she said, dryly.
He gave her a wry grin and settled back. "You got it. And now that you're mentioning omelets, you just made me hungry."
"We'll find something soon, it's almost morning, and we should start looking for a place to stop and rest."
"Someone's barn, maybe? I've slept in my share of barns, and haylofts are always fun places for a pair of lonely wanderers," Jack said, with that playful leer of his. At least his sense of humor and his friskiness remained intact.
"Jaaack," she retorted, but she could not help the smile that crossed her face. He had a way of keeping it light in the midst of the darkness that surrounded them. Not the literal darkness, which would fade with the coming daylight, but the darkness that filled the world, the darkness brought on by the near faceless organization that had woven a web around the human race. The same darkness that now pursued them, sent them fleeing across the country.
She felt her smile fading at these thoughts. "Getting tired?" Jack asked, settling back on the seat.
"Yeah, just the late night and the long road ahead of us," she fibbed. A road sign flickered by reading: Lake Winnebegosh 15 miles. "Looks like we got a town up ahead. Maybe we won't have to spend the day in that barn, and we can get you a real place to rest."
"Aww, and here I was hoping for a nice straw bed to sleep on: they're more comfortable than they sound," Jack replied, as if speaking from the voice of experience.
