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I believe this is what they call a flashfic - came into my head this morning out of some thinking I'd been doing about my Jack/Nine fic.
Title: Time to Change (Double Drabble)
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
unfeathered
Character: Jack Harkness
Genre: Gen
Word Count: 200
Spoilers: The Parting Of The Ways
Disclaimer: Not mine
Summary: His wrist computer is always the last thing he takes off…
Author’s Note: Jack's wrist computer swaps wrists between Doctor Who Season 1 and Torchwood Season 1. I got to wondering why.
Jack looks down at his bare wrists. He can't remember the last time they were both bare while he was fully dressed. His wrist computer is always the last thing he takes off, and he only takes it off to wash.
Or when the Doctor makes him.
Made him.
He looks down at it in his hands, his thumbs gently rubbing the soft, worn leather; the smooth, shiny face; the dull metal buckle. It's not what it once was. The Vortex Manipulator was irretrievably burnt out by the jump back to what was supposed to be Twenty-First Century Earth, and other bits don't work like they used to.
But then, Jack's not what he once was either.
He starts to put it back on, and stops. Reverses the movement and wraps it round his left wrist instead. Doing up the buckle is difficult with the wrong hand, and his right wrist feels naked and vulnerable without it.
He needs that right now.
Maybe he'll get a watch for his right wrist. When he can find one. Till then his wrist will be bare, a reminder of what he used to be.
And of what he is – whatever he is – now.
Title: Time to Change (Double Drabble)
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Author:
unfeatheredCharacter: Jack Harkness
Genre: Gen
Word Count: 200
Spoilers: The Parting Of The Ways
Disclaimer: Not mine
Summary: His wrist computer is always the last thing he takes off…
Author’s Note: Jack's wrist computer swaps wrists between Doctor Who Season 1 and Torchwood Season 1. I got to wondering why.
Jack looks down at his bare wrists. He can't remember the last time they were both bare while he was fully dressed. His wrist computer is always the last thing he takes off, and he only takes it off to wash.
Or when the Doctor makes him.
Made him.
He looks down at it in his hands, his thumbs gently rubbing the soft, worn leather; the smooth, shiny face; the dull metal buckle. It's not what it once was. The Vortex Manipulator was irretrievably burnt out by the jump back to what was supposed to be Twenty-First Century Earth, and other bits don't work like they used to.
But then, Jack's not what he once was either.
He starts to put it back on, and stops. Reverses the movement and wraps it round his left wrist instead. Doing up the buckle is difficult with the wrong hand, and his right wrist feels naked and vulnerable without it.
He needs that right now.
Maybe he'll get a watch for his right wrist. When he can find one. Till then his wrist will be bare, a reminder of what he used to be.
And of what he is – whatever he is – now.
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