| Date: 5 January 2008
Characters: Brant Hysmith, Kurt Harding Location: outside Link to IJ: thread #24669 |
 He wasn't short on finding things to occupy him. New place, new time - everything was interesting enough to hold his attention, especially now that he'd decided he was at least mostly safe here.
At the moment he was sitting on a bench outside, with a basket of fried chicken strips. He was pulling them apart with his fingers as much as eating them, at least at the moment. There was a paper cup with a lid and straw sitting at his feet, and he was, just in general, looking really relaxed, and maybe even a little sleepy. When he heard - sensed, felt, something - someone near-by, he looked up and cocked his eyebrow slightly. "Hey." |
 Damn, he must be getting sloppy in his old age. He'd noticed Brant sitting there and edged closer to get a better look, because he was fairly sure he was who he thought he was. And Brant had seemed half-asleep.
Nice to know he'd used to be that alert, anyway. With a little shrug, Kurt came towards him. He stopped a short way off, hands deep in his trouser pockets, face expressionless because he had no idea what kind of reaction he was going to get from Brant. "Hey." |
| The half-cocked eyebrow went the rest of the way up. He wasn't mistaking Kurt for Jack so much - it clearly wasn't him - but it was close enough to make him really, really curious.
"Chicken?" he offered, in a sort of bland way that made the question more cheeky than not. It really wasn't meant to be a pun, but he would've made it. |
| Kurt's eyebrow did a little amused jump of its own - up and then down again - and he came in a little closer. "Thanks," he said blandly, reaching down to the basket and picking out a strip. He hadn't had fried chicken for centuries.
He tore a bite off with his teeth and looked Brant over while he chewed. A year or two younger than the boy he'd been watching over back home. Eighteen or so? "I take it you've met my alter ego here," he drawled. |
| "You're welcome." He pulled one of his knees up, foot resting on the edge of the bench and watched Kurt, frankly and openly. "Your alter ego?"
It wasn't that he was being coy. It was that the words fit together weird in Brant's head. Alter ego had him jumping too far ahead and complicating the issue. |
| "A man going by the name of Captain Jack Harkness? I heard there was one wandering around, and you looked like you thought I was him, for an instant. Not without reason." He smiled a bit. "You'd remember him if you'd seen him." |
| He grinned, quick and bright. "Yeah, I've seen him. Sorry, the phrasing tripped me up." |
| Oh, he remembered that grin. He'd been so young, so... open. Kurt couldn't help grinning back. He stuck out a hand. "Cap'n Kurt Harding. And you are?"
OK, flirting with Brant was wrong, on so many levels, but what the hell. |
| He laughed. "Brant Hysmith. New name, same rank?" he asked, and yeah, he was teasing. |
| "Always the same rank," Kurt smiled. "Name has to change now and then, though. Pity. I liked being Jack." |
| "You know, I'm curious as hell, but I'm going to try not to ask the obvious question." It was a respect thing, strangely enough. "What'd you like about being Jack?" |
| Kurt shrugged. "The memories associated with the name. My life changed when I was Jack. I kept the name as long as I could. Far longer than I should have done, really."
Kurt finished off the bit of chicken and reached down for another one. "What's the obvious question?" |
| He held the basket up so Jack could take his food, then scooted over. "Have a seat." |
| "Funny question." He sat. |
| "Funny question?" Brant asked, a little bewildered. |
| "I said, what's the obvious question? You said, have a seat. That's a funny question." |
| "That's not a question, that's an omission." He was perfectly unapologetic about it, and perfectly willing to admit what he was doing. He leaned down and picked up his drink. |
| "Well, it would have been a question if you'd said it," Kurt said, chewing. "Are you always such a brat?"
Of course, he knew the answer to that one. |
| "I guess that's technically true." He took a drink from his cup, grimaced very slightly and then snorted and laughed. "Yeah, I am." |
| Kurt grinned wryly and turned to face Brant, putting one foot up on the bench and leaning back a bit against the arm. "So, Brant Hysmith. Where did you come from?" |
| He pivoted to face Kurt, almost mirroring his position, but not quite. "The same place you came from." |
| He blinked. "Huh?" |
| "The same place you came from. Assuming your Alter-ego has the same general history as you." |
| "Oh!" So Jack and Brant had exchanged that information and yet apparently still hadn't realised they were the same person? Well, either that or Brant was hiding it really well.
He grinned. "No, I meant, where were you just before you ended up here? At home or... somewhere else?" Like the Academy? |
| Oh, that." He leaned to the side and put his cup back down. "Hadn't quite made it yet." He was getting uncomfortable, but he was doing a decent (if not perfect) job of hiding that. |
| "Hadn't quite made it where yet?" He hadn't said 'the Academy' out loud, had he? |
| Nope, he hadn't said it out loud, and that wasn't the issue really. Maybe Jack's paranoia was wearing off. On the other hand, no, he'd started at paranoid with everyone he'd met. Except Susan.
""Where I was going," he said, with a quick grin. "What about you?" |
| He didn't pursue it. Didn't matter. Had to be the Academy. Poor kid. Rotten time to be swept away to a strange place and time.
"I was being chased by ugly pink aliens in Cardiff," he said, with another wry grin. |
| He blinked at Kurt, several times. "Ugly pink aliens? So is this an improvement, then?" |
| Kurt chuckled. "A definite improvement," he said, deliberately looking Brant up and down. |
| He flushed, but he laughed. "Thanks. Not exactly where I was going with that, but thanks." |
| "I know you weren't," he smiled. He looked around and stretched. "But yeah, this place is a nice change. Warm and pretty and peaceful - not a bad place to be dropped into for a rest." |
| He started to relax at the smile, and watched Kurt stretch. "I'm sure you could use it." |
| Kurt's eyebrow lifted lazily. "Do I look that tired? Or has Jack been telling tales?" |
| "Jack hasn't been telling tales," he promised, and very very intentionally and maybe a bit cheekily, didn't offer a more direct answer. |
| "Cheeky brat," Kurt chuckled, leaning forward and reaching for some more chicken. |
| Brant leaned forward and handed it to him. "It's a gift. So, are you okay? How long have you been here?" |
| "Thanks," he said, through a mouthful of chicken. He was hungry. Took a lot out of you, running from ugly pink aliens.
"I only just got here, actually." He raised his eyes to Brant's, glinting with humour but with a bit more of a demand in them too. "You?" |
| He noticed the demand. He certainly noticed the demand. He didn't just roll over for it, though. Even though he had no issue answering the question, he paused and took another drink, and returned the cup to it's place by the bench before doing so.
"A few days," he admitted. "Maybe a little more. Time's hard to keep track of." |
| "Is it?" Kurt frowned. "In what way? Does the sun never set, or something?"
He couldn't think of another reason it would be hard to keep track. |
| "I've yet to see anything that would actually be a sun," he admitted. "It just kind of gets lighter and darker. When it's dark, there's even a pretty diffuse glow from more stars than I've ever seen, and I've got no idea how long there is between 'day/night' cycles, either." |
| "That's... pretty weird," Kurt acknowledged, chewing again. "This whole place is weird. You met anyone who could make sense of it yet?"
He was really hoping he would. He'd make the most of the break while he had to, but he wanted to get back to his team. |
| He shook his head. "No. Some guy called the Doctor sounded almost like he might have a clue, and so did Susan, but that's as good as it's gotten. Most people seem pretty bewildered." |
| The mention of the Doctor hit Kurt almost like a physical blow. The idea that Brant had by chance turned up here and run into the Doctor years before a certain Captain Jack had met him, compared to all those years Jack had spent waiting...
He leaned back, spreading one arm along the back of the bench, and said casually, "This Doctor. Tall, big ears, leather jacket?" That was the one Susan had said she'd run into too, wasn't it? |
| "Alien of some sort, possibly with tentacles in his pants, really bizarre conversation? Yeah, that's the one," He agreed, watching Kurt, curiously. |
| Kurt burst out laughing, head thrown back. "Tentacles? In his pants?"
Yeah, there were more important things here, but - tentacles???? |
| He shook his head, grinning at the burst of sound from Kurt. "I mentioned really bizarre, right?" |
| Kurt wiped tears from his eyes and looked at Brant as earnestly as he could. "Did you check his pants?" he asked solemnly, before bursting out laughing again. |
| "Well, no," he said, as dead-pan and even as he could manage. "That would've been rude." |
| "Yeah. 'Spose it would. Tell you what, I'll check 'em for you, if I run into him. He wouldn't mind it from me." |
| "Sounds like a plan to me," he agreed, with a grin that was honestly. Amused. |
| Kurt wiped his eyes again and straightened up a bit, making an effort to be serious. "Oh dear, I've completely lost track of where I was now." He picked up another chicken strip and stared at it, twirling it absently.
"Oh, yes. Making sense of this place. What did the Doctor say?" |
| Brant shook his head, a little. "I don't honestly remember. Just that he didn't seem all that confused." |
| Kurt sighed gently. "Ah, well, I'll ask him myself, when I find him. And I need to find him."
Which reminded him. He leaned forward and asked, really earnest this time, "You haven't bumped into anyone in an immaculate black suit calling himself Harold Saxon, or Harry, or, just possibly, the Master, have you?" |
| He shook his head. "No. Why?" He was immediately concerned, probably by the earnestness of the question. |
| "That's... good. That's really good." Because he had a feeling the Master might just recognise Brant for who he would become and the kid really was an easy target.
"If you do meet him, be a good kid and run the other way, eh? He's really not the sort you want to mess with." |
| Like that didn't make him want to go track the Master down with a sharp stick. Of course it also made him wary, which was at least good.
"Who is the sort I want to miss with, exactly?" He paused. "Wait, wrong question. Why don't I want to mess with him? Besides the really, really, ridiculously egomaniacal name?" |
| Yeah, Kurt still didn't have good people skills. Even after 3,000 years. Even when the 'people' were younger versions of himself.
He did, at least, recognise that he'd just made Brant more curious. He said carefully, "The Master is a Time Lord, like the Doctor. An old enemy of the Doctor." Well, sometimes enemy, sometimes... not, but let's not complicate things. "Back when I was with the Doctor, the Master managed to take over the earth and use it and its inhabitents to build himself weapons to go to war with the rest of the universe. We managed to stop him, but it was... a year I'd really, really like to forget." If only it were that easy. Even after all that time, there were some things you just didn't forget. |
| That got through to Brant, on all sorts of levels. The first, obvious one being that he'd be less likely to go smack the Master with a stick, just to see what he'd done.
The other was that as careful as Kurt was being, and the mention of having time he'd like to forget, just made Brant want to make the guy feel better. Seemed Kurt had something in common with another, younger version of himself. "All right," he agreed after a moment of looking at Kurt, with a lot more compassion than he probably should have been. And admiration because hey, he'd saved the world. "Be careful then, huh?" and he wasn't so much talking about himself. |
| Kurt grinned, automatically deflecting. "Aww, Brant, I didn't know you cared!" |
| "That's because you're dumb," he said, lazily. |
| He quirked an eyebrow. "Really?"
Was he missing something here? |
| "Yep," he agreed. Actually, damn near drawled. |
| "OK, I'm missing something here, aren't I? Just how much time have you and Jack spent together?" |
| "Some," he admitted, pretty freely. "Not the point, though. You're just missing that it shouldn't be hard to figure out I give a damn. What with the feeding you, and all." |
| "But why? You're not all that trusting. And you don't even know me!" |
| "How do you know how trusting I am, and what's knowing you got to do with anything? I know you gave me some good advice." |
| Kurt gave him a limpid look. "Oh, come on, don't think I didn't notice a certain... reluctance to answer questions. Which is good, in general," he hastened to add, with a crooked smile.
"And I meant, you were feeding me long before you gave me advice. Which, again, not complaining about, but - " |
| "I'm not catching a connection between not telling you shit and not caring."
He really wasn't. |
| He sighed. How could it be so hard to get on the same wavelength with your younger self? Had he really been that different?
"The not telling me shit, in your words, was an example of you not being trusting. Has nothing to do with the caring. Two separate conversations going on here. The feeding me was an example of you caring before I gave you a reason to. He rubbed a hand over his face. "And... I'm really confused now. Shall we just start again?" |
| He flashed a quick grin. "Sorry, you're right. I was trying to make a connection that wasn't there. Start over and forgive me?" |
| "With pleasure." Kurt flashed a grin of his own.
Then he leaned forward again and picked out another piece of chicken. "I am curious, though, to know what Jack's told you about himself." Like, how old he was, that he couldn't die, that he worked for Torchwood, that - oh, about a million other things. |
| He paused for a little bit, not answering and just studying Kurt. "Some," he said, finally. "Can I ask you a favor?" |
| "Sure." He could ask, anyway. |
| "I know there's some pretty major stuff in your - and Jack's- background, and stuff he's not telling me. I'm okay with that, because I don't want to know anything he's not willing to tell me, at least not right now. I know that's almost impossible since I haven't told you much of what he's told me, but he's told me almost nothing important and." He shrugged. "I'm okay with that for now. Unless he's really wants me dead, or something." |
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