The future is another country
May. 14th, 2007 12:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mylodonI have created an LJ for my alter ego, cunningly titled ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
charliecochrane.
Title: The future is another country
Setting: Hornblower/Torchwood Regeneration Universe (which assumes that William Bush is Dr Who so the lads can visit the 21st century as they wish). This time they are taking a spot of shore leave.
Rating: PG13(?)
Notes: I don't own any of these characters but they are great fun to play with
“You are the bloody end.”
“I only said…”
“I know what you said and it does not bear repeating.” Steam wasn’t actually coming out of Archie Kennedy’s ears but his wrath was working up a nice head of hot air. “I’ve never heard anything so crass in all my born days.”
Horatio drew himself up to his full six foot, towering only a few inches over his friend, but it was enough to make an imposing figure. “I merely said that I do not like this place as much as I like Portsmouth for a period of shore leave. I’ve spent some very happy days in Pompey.”
Kennedy remembered with fondness some of the nights there and grew slightly less agitated. “Like when you were sick behind the Round Tower as the result of too much champagne? Don’t recall you being that happy then.”
“That,” Hornblower became even more dignified, “was the result of a dirty glass, as I have often averred.”
“Well you won’t find any champagne here.” Archie raised a – well he wasn’t really sure what it was, except that it felt a bit like glass, but warmer and less crystalline. And the contents of said vessel were equally odd, being blue, smelling of mint and tasting like nothing he had ever encountered before. Not unpleasant at all; au contraire rather agreeable and just slightly intoxicating. Enough as his father would have said, to mellow but not to render insensible. He sipped some more, felt the fiery burn as the liquid slipped glutinously down his throat, then put the glass on the table and admired the odd shadow it made.
“How do they take noon?”
“I’m sorry Horatio?”
“How do they take noon with two suns?”
“Well I suppose it will be like earth and they’ll have all sorts of fancy chronometers to keep the time without benefit of a sextant. Advanced civilisation and all that as William keeps telling us. Certainly know how to make a good brew.” He sipped some more, avoiding taking too large a mouthful. Bush had made it plain that the air here, although nourishing and good (planet with oxygen based life forms whatever they were) was thinner than earth’s, which is why they bounded about somewhat, like being on deck in a very lumpy sea. And it made the effects of alcohol, or its Trochophorian equivalent, that much more potent.
Horatio harrumphed, Horatio considered, Horatio took some of his green drink. Why they had let William Bush and Jack-bloody-Harkness persuade them to come to this dreadful planet for shore leave instead of just pulling into Dover or Deal was beyond his powers of understanding. All that would have required was a nice trip down the coast in a shore boat, but instead there had been the secret signal, the appearance of the TARDIS on the deck in the dead of the middle watch (William reassured them that they’d be back before they were missed, if not before they went) and a flight across the galaxy to a somewhat obscure planet, that girdled a pair of rather red looking suns.
Dover was much less confusing.
Horatio had come to the conclusion that all the subterfuge was part of the fun for Eighth-Doctor-Bush and Captain-I’d-like-to-punch-his-smarmy-nose-Harkness and they were both leading Kennedy astray with it. Archie had persuaded him to agree to the madness, of course, promising a welter of delights such as could not be found on earth bound shores. Such as a certain amount of turning a blind eye to sharing a bed, thus eliminating the need for the surreptitious sidle down the corridor or the overloud negotiations with the landlord about their penniless state necessitating the acquisition of a room with only one bed. On Trochophor no-one cared a hoot as long as you didn’t do it in the streets and frighten the frijitics.
“Alright there, Blondie?” Jack’s smooth tones crossed the room, followed by the man himself, dressed in his usual blues and greys and looking just a bit too handsome for someone’s liking.
“I’m fine – it’s just Horatio who finds this place less pleasing than the Keppel’s Head.”
“How can you think that? Look at it Horatio – isn’t it beautiful?”
Hornblower’s eyes swept the scene; it could not be doubted that Jack-I’m-so-perfect-they-should-clone-me-Harkness was right about the splendour of the planet. The lush foliage that covered the landscape and surrounded the public buildings reminded him of the Mediterranean sea, it being an extraordinary range of blues as opposed to the expected greens. William had tried to explain this, too – different photosynthetic pigment or some such nonsense.
And it could not be denied that the light had an amazing autumnal English quality – it added all sorts of copper tones to Archie’s hair and skin which made him even more gorgeous than he normally was and invested Horatio’s pale face with a richness of colour.
But it wasn’t England. Hornblower wanted beer that tasted like beer and bread and cheese and pickles. He wanted a bed that was rectangular and possibly lumpy rather than ovoid and smooth as glass. He wanted Archie all to himself and no-one else in the offing.
By the strange almost telepathic link that the men possessed, Kennedy suddenly seemed aware of the true reason behind his lover’s unhappiness. He looked thoughtfully at Hornblower then turned to Jack. “Would it be an absolute pain to ask you to take us back to Deal, 1804 version? We could be ready in five minutes.”
Harkness seemed puzzled, shrugged, raised his eyebrows. “Anything you want, Blondie. William and I can come back here and enjoy the scenery.” Two Trochophorians of indeterminate gender walked past and Jack’s eyes followed them eagerly, “and I’ll get him back to you in as near one piece as I can manage.”
***
“Better now?” Archie grinned. The small inn had an unparalleled view of the castle and the harbour. It was raining outside, as it had been on and off since they arrived and he and Horatio had been forced to spend most of their three days indoors, much of it in their bedroom. With a chess set that rarely saw a castling or check and a pack of cards that were sometimes shuffled and dealt but that mainly stayed in an untidy heap.
“Much, thank you.” Hornblower had had his fill of proper beer and proper food and the delights of the double bed. There was one sun in the sky, the trees were green and there was no Jack-I-really-fancy-you-Archie-what-say-we-ditch-old-grouchy-britches-Harkness anywhere to be seen. There was another hour before they had to make their way back to their ship and Kennedy had just ordered a huge pot of proper English tea, to be consumed with proper English cake.
Horatio came across to the window, where Archie was happily watching the rain splashing off the rooftops and doodling on the steamed up panes. He put his arms around the imp’s waist and nuzzled the back of his neck.
“Careful, ‘ratio. The girl will be up with the tea soon. Told you we should have stayed on Trochophor; no-one there would have batted an eyelid - or whatever those strange drooping bits of flesh were on their faces – at seeing two men in embrace.” Belying his words, he leaned back into the caress, turning his face to kiss whatever part of Horatio he could get hold of.
“I dare say they wouldn’t. But that’s half the problem – too much time spent where such things are winked at could make us lax. I like what I’m used to Archie; it may not be ideal, but it’s comfortable.”
“And you have no inclination to explore new worlds?”
“No. All I desire is to discover anew the delights of the familiar and precious. Like English beer….” And Archie Kennedy’s body he thought as the maid came in with the tea.
charliecochrane. Title: The future is another country
Setting: Hornblower/Torchwood Regeneration Universe (which assumes that William Bush is Dr Who so the lads can visit the 21st century as they wish). This time they are taking a spot of shore leave.
Rating: PG13(?)
Notes: I don't own any of these characters but they are great fun to play with
“You are the bloody end.”
“I only said…”
“I know what you said and it does not bear repeating.” Steam wasn’t actually coming out of Archie Kennedy’s ears but his wrath was working up a nice head of hot air. “I’ve never heard anything so crass in all my born days.”
Horatio drew himself up to his full six foot, towering only a few inches over his friend, but it was enough to make an imposing figure. “I merely said that I do not like this place as much as I like Portsmouth for a period of shore leave. I’ve spent some very happy days in Pompey.”
Kennedy remembered with fondness some of the nights there and grew slightly less agitated. “Like when you were sick behind the Round Tower as the result of too much champagne? Don’t recall you being that happy then.”
“That,” Hornblower became even more dignified, “was the result of a dirty glass, as I have often averred.”
“Well you won’t find any champagne here.” Archie raised a – well he wasn’t really sure what it was, except that it felt a bit like glass, but warmer and less crystalline. And the contents of said vessel were equally odd, being blue, smelling of mint and tasting like nothing he had ever encountered before. Not unpleasant at all; au contraire rather agreeable and just slightly intoxicating. Enough as his father would have said, to mellow but not to render insensible. He sipped some more, felt the fiery burn as the liquid slipped glutinously down his throat, then put the glass on the table and admired the odd shadow it made.
“How do they take noon?”
“I’m sorry Horatio?”
“How do they take noon with two suns?”
“Well I suppose it will be like earth and they’ll have all sorts of fancy chronometers to keep the time without benefit of a sextant. Advanced civilisation and all that as William keeps telling us. Certainly know how to make a good brew.” He sipped some more, avoiding taking too large a mouthful. Bush had made it plain that the air here, although nourishing and good (planet with oxygen based life forms whatever they were) was thinner than earth’s, which is why they bounded about somewhat, like being on deck in a very lumpy sea. And it made the effects of alcohol, or its Trochophorian equivalent, that much more potent.
Horatio harrumphed, Horatio considered, Horatio took some of his green drink. Why they had let William Bush and Jack-bloody-Harkness persuade them to come to this dreadful planet for shore leave instead of just pulling into Dover or Deal was beyond his powers of understanding. All that would have required was a nice trip down the coast in a shore boat, but instead there had been the secret signal, the appearance of the TARDIS on the deck in the dead of the middle watch (William reassured them that they’d be back before they were missed, if not before they went) and a flight across the galaxy to a somewhat obscure planet, that girdled a pair of rather red looking suns.
Dover was much less confusing.
Horatio had come to the conclusion that all the subterfuge was part of the fun for Eighth-Doctor-Bush and Captain-I’d-like-to-punch-his-smarmy-nose-Harkness and they were both leading Kennedy astray with it. Archie had persuaded him to agree to the madness, of course, promising a welter of delights such as could not be found on earth bound shores. Such as a certain amount of turning a blind eye to sharing a bed, thus eliminating the need for the surreptitious sidle down the corridor or the overloud negotiations with the landlord about their penniless state necessitating the acquisition of a room with only one bed. On Trochophor no-one cared a hoot as long as you didn’t do it in the streets and frighten the frijitics.
“Alright there, Blondie?” Jack’s smooth tones crossed the room, followed by the man himself, dressed in his usual blues and greys and looking just a bit too handsome for someone’s liking.
“I’m fine – it’s just Horatio who finds this place less pleasing than the Keppel’s Head.”
“How can you think that? Look at it Horatio – isn’t it beautiful?”
Hornblower’s eyes swept the scene; it could not be doubted that Jack-I’m-so-perfect-they-should-clone-me-Harkness was right about the splendour of the planet. The lush foliage that covered the landscape and surrounded the public buildings reminded him of the Mediterranean sea, it being an extraordinary range of blues as opposed to the expected greens. William had tried to explain this, too – different photosynthetic pigment or some such nonsense.
And it could not be denied that the light had an amazing autumnal English quality – it added all sorts of copper tones to Archie’s hair and skin which made him even more gorgeous than he normally was and invested Horatio’s pale face with a richness of colour.
But it wasn’t England. Hornblower wanted beer that tasted like beer and bread and cheese and pickles. He wanted a bed that was rectangular and possibly lumpy rather than ovoid and smooth as glass. He wanted Archie all to himself and no-one else in the offing.
By the strange almost telepathic link that the men possessed, Kennedy suddenly seemed aware of the true reason behind his lover’s unhappiness. He looked thoughtfully at Hornblower then turned to Jack. “Would it be an absolute pain to ask you to take us back to Deal, 1804 version? We could be ready in five minutes.”
Harkness seemed puzzled, shrugged, raised his eyebrows. “Anything you want, Blondie. William and I can come back here and enjoy the scenery.” Two Trochophorians of indeterminate gender walked past and Jack’s eyes followed them eagerly, “and I’ll get him back to you in as near one piece as I can manage.”
***
“Better now?” Archie grinned. The small inn had an unparalleled view of the castle and the harbour. It was raining outside, as it had been on and off since they arrived and he and Horatio had been forced to spend most of their three days indoors, much of it in their bedroom. With a chess set that rarely saw a castling or check and a pack of cards that were sometimes shuffled and dealt but that mainly stayed in an untidy heap.
“Much, thank you.” Hornblower had had his fill of proper beer and proper food and the delights of the double bed. There was one sun in the sky, the trees were green and there was no Jack-I-really-fancy-you-Archie-what-say-we-ditch-old-grouchy-britches-Harkness anywhere to be seen. There was another hour before they had to make their way back to their ship and Kennedy had just ordered a huge pot of proper English tea, to be consumed with proper English cake.
Horatio came across to the window, where Archie was happily watching the rain splashing off the rooftops and doodling on the steamed up panes. He put his arms around the imp’s waist and nuzzled the back of his neck.
“Careful, ‘ratio. The girl will be up with the tea soon. Told you we should have stayed on Trochophor; no-one there would have batted an eyelid - or whatever those strange drooping bits of flesh were on their faces – at seeing two men in embrace.” Belying his words, he leaned back into the caress, turning his face to kiss whatever part of Horatio he could get hold of.
“I dare say they wouldn’t. But that’s half the problem – too much time spent where such things are winked at could make us lax. I like what I’m used to Archie; it may not be ideal, but it’s comfortable.”
“And you have no inclination to explore new worlds?”
“No. All I desire is to discover anew the delights of the familiar and precious. Like English beer….” And Archie Kennedy’s body he thought as the maid came in with the tea.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-14 11:29 am (UTC)How do they take noon with two suns?
I thought for a minute there that they were on Tattonine and started hoping that Han Solo would walk past *g*
Wonderful!
(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-14 04:17 pm (UTC)I was just waiting for the Jawas to show up...!
(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-14 08:36 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-14 05:55 pm (UTC)Actually, I find Jack a lot more interesting than Han Solo.
In fact, Jack could learn a lot from Obi-Wan. Jedi Jack Harkness...
o dear.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-14 07:36 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-14 08:31 pm (UTC)*copies and pastes to idea file*
I hate you all...... *g*
(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-15 01:28 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-15 11:11 am (UTC)May the farce (sic) be with you!
(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-14 08:47 pm (UTC)You can be second in line for a clone as I'm having one to hoover and cook.
I did think of Tatooine when I thought of the suns, but Trochophor had to be much more lush. And people might mistake Archie for Luke Skywalker from behind.
Thank you.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-14 09:13 pm (UTC)No they couldn't. Archie has a much nicer bum.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-15 11:18 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-15 02:19 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-15 11:59 am (UTC)Oh all right, second then. I'll wait until the process is perfected - wonder whether the cloning process includes the immortality?
Just for the record, I do know how to spell Tatooine. Wish there was a way to edit comments...And Archie is much prettier than Luke, even from behind *g*
(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-15 01:13 pm (UTC)Oh yes! He'd never complain directly to Jack-you-are-my-every-dream-and-all-them-things-that-I-don't-know-about-that-dance-hall-could get-you-killed-if-I-come-to-know-them-Harkness but he'd mutter on and on about being treated like a skivvy. I bet Ianto is a great one for talking to himself....
Archie is much prettier than almost everyone.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-14 12:39 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-14 09:12 pm (UTC)I like the hyphenated names, and must get a few more thought of. Thanks for friending me.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-14 02:59 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-14 08:49 pm (UTC)I must think up some more insults for JH...
Thanks!
(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-14 09:15 pm (UTC)It must be so hard for you. *grin*
(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-15 11:16 am (UTC)And as you say, a hard job, but I'll be brave and do it. *g*
(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-15 02:18 pm (UTC)Good for you! *hugs*
(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-14 03:57 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-15 11:19 am (UTC)Thank you for reading it, sweetie pie!
(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-15 01:07 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-15 01:25 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-14 05:21 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-14 08:24 pm (UTC)Love the icon.....
(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-14 07:39 pm (UTC)Also, I LOVE the snarky nicknames Horatio has for Jack. It's so true, that's EXACTLY how he would think of him. And I'm curious: just what did Horatio SAY, anyway?
(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-15 01:57 pm (UTC)Horatio was looking over the beautiful trochophorian landscape (very lush and blue and flowery, with marvellous mammal-like reptile type creatures waddling hither and yon) and he said: "Well, I suppose it's what you might call nice, but I prefer Portsmouth any day." I'm surprised archie didn't clonk him one.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-15 07:22 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-15 07:28 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-15 11:12 am (UTC)The last few lines reminded me of Donne's "The Good-morrow":
Let sea-discoverers to new world have gone,
Let maps to other, worlds on worlds have shown,
Let us possess one world, each hath one, and is one.
*squee*
(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-15 02:56 pm (UTC)Now you pet that Horatio of yours; perhaps you could be the maid bringing in the tea and you could tip Archie out that window and comfort Horry?
I love the Donne; I really am so very ignorant of him, I appreciate it every time people quote him and increase my knowledge. I could have called this 'Let us possess one world...' *sighs*
(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-27 04:39 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-27 06:27 pm (UTC)a) thanks and
b) Colly to soothe your head.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-06-05 07:00 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-06-05 10:05 am (UTC)