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To Kill A Mockingbird

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14th  June 1995

Harry watched silently, stepping away from Neville and quickly making his way down the stone steps, towards where his godfather and Bellatrix dueled.

Only one pair was still battling, apparently unaware of the new arrival. Harry saw Sirius duck Bellatrix's jet of red light: he was laughing at her.

"Come on, you can do better than that!" He yelled, his voice echoing around the cavernous room.

"Sirius! No!" Harry screamed. He ran faster than he ever had before. He rushed through the small crowd, his heart pounding in his ears, his mind blank except for one thought, save Sirius. The teenager leaped through the air, knocking his godfather down onto the floor. Everything froze as they all stared in horror, watching as the second jet of light hit Harry square in the chest. The expression of fear had not quiet died from his face, but his eyes had widened in shock.

Everyone watched with wide eyes. It seemed to take Harry ages to fall, his body curved in a graceful arch as he sank backwards through the ragged veil hanging from the arch.

Sirius, Dumbledore, Neville and everyone else in the room saw the mingled fear and surprise on Harry's youthful, handsome face as he fell through the ancient doorway and disappeared behind the veil, which fluttered for a moment as though in a high wind, then fell back into place. No one noticed for a split second as Sirius jumped up to his feet, wand in hand. He shot out one of the worst spells, the killing curse.

The once triumphant scream of Bellatrix Lestrange was now silenced. His wand lowered, but his hands did not loosen on his wand, but tightened. Sirius snapped his gaze back to where Harry, his godson, had fallen through the archway, hoping he would reappear from the other side any second…

But Harry did not reappear…

And with a scream of rage, despair and sadness, Sirius Black fell to his knees, tears falling from his stormy gray eyes.

Blackness. Nothingness. It surrounded him like thick fog, slowly choking him as he wandered through the black void with dizziness, fatigue and fear surging through his pounding heart. He could hear nothing, see nothing, and touch nothing. It was a feeling that worried him and frightened him. Where was he? All he could remember was saving Sirius. He had saved Sirius! A smile graced his lips. As long as he had saved his godfather, that was all that mattered.

"I had hoped I would not see you for a long time." A whispery voice echoed through the black nothingness. It sounded neither female nor male. "Then again, you have always surprised me, Harry James Potter." The voice stated with vague amusement dancing through its words.

"Who – who are you?" Harry called out nervously. His voice echoed, resounding around him. His palms sweat and his throat tightened as his bright emerald green eyes scanned the blackness.

"I am magic. I am life. I am death. I am everything." The soft voice remarked. Harry was positive if he could see this voice, it would have been smirking.

"What am I doing here?" The fifteen-year-old questioned.

"You were supposed to have died that night, Harry Potter. Just as Tom Riddle was suppose to. The both of you survived, you because of your mother's sacrifice, a life for a life. And Riddle because he used the darkest of magic, Horocruxes." The voice stated with a lingering tone of disgust in its words.

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off as the voice began to speak again. "Then you had died another time, when you were seven." The teenager looked surprised at the voice's words.

"How – how am I still alive then?" He inquired with a frown.

"One of my – children – saved you. You had affected them. Made them feel something for you, so they saved you." The voice was affectionate when speaking of its children. Whoever they were. "Then, you died today. Saving the life of another, your godfather." There was pride in the voice, as if it was not surprised that Harry would have done something like that.

"I shall give you two choices Harry Potter. You should have died long ago, but did not. And for that, you have caused rifts through time, defying what should have never been defied before." The voice paused. "With you not dying, you have led to one human being not being born. I shall not have you kill this individual. He is very important to time and space. But he will die anyways, but his body will not."

Harry felt confusion at what the voice was saying. He snapped back from his thoughts as the voice continued to speak. "Should you choose to continue on, time and space will change and things that will be stopped, and people that were supposed to be saved, will die, when they were not supposed to." Harry gave a nod of understanding, not knowing if the voice could see him.

"Should you accept my offer, you will be reborn, given a life filled with love and affection from family. It may not last as long as you wish, and you will experience more heartache, pain, death, but also love and happiness. You will also be able to experience life as you should." The voice tempted. Harry could feel the desire to have a family and know what love from a parent really was filling his entire being.

"Will I remember this life?" Harry questioned quietly.

"Yes…but not until you reach a certain age. I cannot allow you to remember your life as Harry Potter too soon. Should you realize it sooner than you must, you could mess with everything that is supposed to happen in the future." The voice gave a soft hum, as if in thought. "This new life you will be given, is even more important than perhaps yours now. You will only remember your old life when you reach your majority, being seventeen, should you choose to accept my offer." The voice held a hint of sadness and sympathy. The voice knew this decision was going to be difficult.

Harry Potter would be reborn, yes, but he would also have memories of his past life and know that though he moved on, reborn again, others that he had known, as Harry would have been killed, tortured or murdered by those that he fought again. It all depended on if Harry, when he was in his new life, accepted to help those that came to him, when and if they could ever find him again.

"Should you die in this new life, I will give you a gift, but it will also be a curse." The voice warned, breaking Harry from his thoughts. Harry assumed 'The Voice', as he was calling it, was giving him a stern look.

"I'll try not to." Harry stated with an impish shrug.

"Good luck Harry James Potter." The voice whispered.

As he began to disappear, Harry asked a final question. "Will I remember this meeting?" He inquired warily.

"No, you will not. I can't ruin all my fun now, can I?" The voice inquired mischievously. "But you will remember your past life on your majority." The soft voice stated calmly.

"Someone really hates me." Harry muttered before a blinding white light consumed him. He disappeared silently from the black nothingness in between worlds, leaving no sign that he had ever appeared in the first place.

"Good luck." The voice whispered once again in the black abyss. It's words floating in the empty air before dissipating without a trace.

31st  October 5063

"Just one more push ma'am." The doctor encouraged as he stood between the woman's legs. The young woman shook her head tiredly. Sweat dripped down the side of her face as curls of dark brown hair stuck to the back of her neck. She was just too tired to do it anymore. Why did she have to? Then the thought of her son being born and finally holding him in her arms set her resolve. As well as the reassuring, but rather pressuring, words from her husband.

"Come on love, you can do it. One more push and we'll have our baby boy." The man looked exhausted as he stood beside his wife's head, his large, callous hand held his beautiful wife's pale, shaky hand in eagerness at the thought of meeting his firstborn. He had waited nine long months, technically almost ten months, for his son to be born.

With a groan, Anthelia Sinclair gave another big push. Silence descended for a moment, before the sound of an infant's cry echoed through the room. Sighs of relief were released from the new parents. Glancing at one another, bright smiles graced their faces at the sound of their son's cries. He was alive, healthy and breathing easily. "Mrs. Sinclair, would you like to hold your son?" A kindly looking nurse inquired. In her arms was a small bundle squirming around, wrapped in a warm, blue blanket.

Anthelia looked to the nurse and nodded tiredly. With the help of her husband, Franklin Sinclair, she was now slightly propped up. She raised her arms and smiled as the red headed nurse placed the small bundle in her arms. Her light blue eyes looked down at the small child with wonder and awe. This was her son. This little bundle of joy was what she and her husband had been waiting for, for years. To be able to hold something she and her husband created was incredible. "My son." She whispered breathlessly. With a pale, shaky finger, she grazed the pale cheeks in a loving gesture.

Franklin Sinclair stood behind his wife, his darker blue eyes, almost a black in color, looked his son over closely, reassuring himself that he was fine and alive. "Our son." He whispered, having heard his wife. Anthelia looked up at her husband and gave a smile in agreement. She glowed with happiness every new mother usually did. "What shall we name him my love?" Franklin inquired with a raise of his light brown eyebrow.

"I was thinking Cyan Mathias Sinclair." Anthelia murmured aloud with a smile as she glanced down at her son's blue eyes that had a peculiar hint of green in them, which led to her thinking of the name she and her husband had talked about.

"That's a good, strong name." Franklin declared with a proud grin. "Now, let me hold my son, my love." He stated. His wife chuckled at his eagerness but slowly and carefully handed the new bundle of life to her husband. The twenty four year old held his son close to his chest in a caress of love and protection. The newborn, dubbed Cyan, opened his small mouth and yawn tiredly. Blinking slowly the babe slowly lost his fight and fell into a deep sleep.

16th  June 5073

"Cyan! Mom said you had to take me with you!" A young boy's voice yelled in a whine from behind Cyan Sinclair. The smaller child hurriedly chased after his older brother. Cyan, who was the older of the two by three years, was rather annoyed at his younger brother's sudden yell and came to a skidding halt on the sandy pathway. He had been running towards his friend's house so they could hang out with each other. He had hoped it would be without his baby brother with him. It seemed that, that would not happen today, if ever.

With a small groan of disgruntlement, Cyan waited rather impatiently for his six-year-old brother to catch up. "Well then hurry up!" The dark brown haired, nine-year-old snapped at his younger brother. He fought the need to ditch his baby brother and go to his friend's house so he could play without him around. 'Why am I always stuck watching the dweeb?' He grumbled mentally to himself. He never had time to be with his friends without Gray following them. It just wasn't fair to the young boy.

The younger child gave a huff at his older brother and glared at him with a pout on his features. Cyan rolled his eyes in irritation, shaking his head in exasperation. He sometimes wondered why he had to deal with his brother all the time. Wasn't that his parent's job? After all, they were the parents.

Yes, he loved his baby brother, but sometimes it'd be nice to get away from him and just hang out with his friends by himself. He almost always hung out with Gray and their father, unless their father was busy. Most times they tended to camp out and hang around a campfire singing or playing cricket. But today, their father was busy and Cyan just wanted to play with his other friends without his brother around.

Ignoring the burning sun on the back of his neck Cyan gave a heavy and overly incensed sigh, though he really wasn't that annoyed. He held out his hand for his brother to take hold of. With a bright smile, Gray grasped his hand tightly before skipping/jumping beside him, heading towards the house of one of his big brother's friends.

"Cy! Cyan! Cuie!" Gray exclaimed with frustration as his big brother continued to ignore him. Cyan blinked rapidly as he shook himself of his thoughts and looked down at his baby brother.

"Don't call me Cuie, dork." Cyan stated with a roll of his eyes. It was a name that Cyan had, had since his baby brother was old enough to talk. Seeing as Gray wasn't able to pronounce a name like Cyan, for a reason that was completely illogical to him, he got stuck with a name like Cuie or Cy. Gray pouted at his brother and stuck his tongue out childishly.

"You were ignoring me! I've been calling to you forever!" The six-year-old exclaimed, exaggerating forever like a child his age usually did.

"Right. Whatever you say Gray." Cyan remarked with a chuckle of amusement. "Now, what were you complaining about this time?" The elder boy questioned with an eyebrow raised in amusement. His younger brother look almost exactly like him. He had silky, messy, dark brown hair that fell into his eyes and eyes of a bright sky blue with creamy pale skin.

The only difference between the two boys was that Cyan had a hint of emerald green in his eyes that had become almost nonexistent, as he grew older, but it was the reason why he had been named Cyan. It meant blue green after all, and his eyes had been that color when he was born.

"Mommy said we're suppose be home before nightfall. But I asked her why, and she said because she doesn't like us being out that late, but I don't know why. Do you know Cy?" Gray rambled hastily, making Cyan listen closely to his brother, so he could actually understand what his brother had just said.

"Mom wants us home before nightfall because you know how cold it can get at night." Cyan stated calmly. The warmth from the sun was soothing for Cyan as he gave a slight smile at the rays of sun warmed him. The endless sand dunes made it shockingly bright as the grains of tan, almost white, sand reflected the sunlight into the scorching hot air. A cold breeze blew through the compound, making the nine-year-old shiver from the sweat that stuck to his skin, like a second skin.

"But I don't want to go in at nightfall." Gray complained. Bright eyes stared up at his big brother with a pitiful look gracing his features.

"No way Gray, that's not working on me. I practically created that look. How do you think I get out of trouble so much?" The older boy rhetorically questioned Gray. He spoke after a moment of silent. "Not to mention I'm also pretty much loved by everybody." Cyan remarked with a smirk.

In fact, as he was growing up on the shores of the Boeshane Peninsula, Cyan had become a well-known sweet talker who had everyone loving him within a few minutes of meeting him. He was known as "The Face of Boe" to his people. It was a title that Cyan held with pride and his parents found amusing. Cyan couldn't help wanting to be friendly with everyone. It was something that he enjoyed doing and it did help that whenever something 'incidental' happened, he was never blamed.

"Fine…" The six-year-old groaned with a huff.

"Now hurry up Gray. We're already late to see Dray." Cyan stated. He dragged his brother to move faster as they walked farther away from home and closer to his best friends home.

"You finally made it!" A darkly tan skinned, brown eyed and brown haired boy, the same age as Cyan, exclaimed with a large grin across his face. Cyan rolled his eyes at his friends over exuberance but gave a smile in return.

"I didn't take that long." Cyan replied with a shake of his head. "And it wasn't my fault. The dork here had to come with me. Hope you don't mind." The nine-year-old stated, nodding his head to his baby brother who stood silently behind him.

Dray glanced over Cyan's shoulder and looked at his younger brother with a darkly raised eyebrow. "Nah, it's fine. I mean, as long as he doesn't try to get in anything like the last time, it should be fine." The boy shrugged his shoulders carelessly. He stepped aside and allowed the boys to step through. The feeling of cool air was a relief for the Sinclair brothers as they gave identical sighs of relief.

"So, why did you want me over here for?" Cyan questioned curiously.

"Oh right. Come check this out." Drays stated excitedly. Cyan and Grey followed after Dray down the short, narrow hallway before reaching a plain brown door. It opened with a loud squeak as the door pushed inwards. Glancing at each other the two brothers shrugged and followed Dray into the room.

The room was dark but it was the kind of dark that showed that curtains were closed over the windows. A large object was in the middle of the room, seemingly covered by a cloth or something like that. Cyan and Grey walked further into the room and stopped before the object. It was long, and slim looking. Dray gave a snap of his fingers and the lights in the room brightened. Cyan and Grey blinked rapidly as they adjusted to the sudden brightness. The dark skinned boy smiled brightly as he pulled the cloth off of the object. A bike, a motorcycle bike, gleamed silver in the dull yellow lights. Black leather was what the seats were made out of and it was also able to fit two people on it. The bars that steered the bike went inwards and then outwards. Flames of blue were spray painted on the sides. Cyan stared at the classic bike in awe.

"How did you find this?" Cyan inquired. His blue eyes looked from the bike to his best friend.

"My dad. He said it use to be my great-great-great-great-great grandfathers." Dray said with a shrug. "It's been in our family for a really long time."

Cyan nodded before looking at the clock on the wall. He hadn't even noticed that it was nearing dark. "Sorry Dray, I didn't realize we were here for so long. We have to get going before it gets too dark. You know how moms are." Cyan stated with a roll of his eyes. Dray nodded in agreement before leading the two boys to the front door.

"See ya tomorrow Dray." Cyan called out as he grabbed Grey's hand and began to run towards their home. As they made their way there, Cyan could feel the sinking feeling settling in his stomach again. Whatever was going to happen, was going to happen soon.

"Cyan! Cyan listen to me!" Franklin Sinclair ordered calmly. He stared his oldest son in the eyes. Blue eyes stared at each other. "I want you to take your brother and run. Do you understand me? I want you run as far and fast as you can. I'm going back for your mother." Cyan looked at his father, fear glinting in his nine-year-old eyes. Gulping nervously he gave his father a firm nod. "Good, now run!" The older man ordered.

With no other words spoken between the two, Cyan grabbed his crying baby brother's hand and quickly ran from the havoc and screams of pain and fear. His hand tightened around his brothers as the pair continued to run towards the large mass of trees and bushes at the end of the main street. He continued to tug his baby brother forward, keeping a grasp on his brother's hand. He tried to ignore the uneasy feeling in his gut. His hands felt slick with sweat and his brother continued to stumble behind him, unsteady on his feet.

"Come on. Keep running Gray." Cyan stated to his brother as he tugged him along. The two brothers skidded and jumped over fallen bodies. They tried to ignore the looks of horror and pain etched across their faces. The two brothers never stopped in their run from the death falling behind them. The young six-year-old gave a sudden stumble as he tripped over a rock. His hand unknowingly slipped away from his big brother's as the large crowd pushed them apart.

Cyan skid to a stop after running for a few more minutes when he noticed that his brother was gone, the crowd surging around him. "Gray!" He stated aloud, but not loud enough to draw attention to himself. "Gray?" He called out louder; his voice shook with distress and panic, as he found no sight of his brother in the now lifeless street.

The sound of gruff, croaky voices reached his ears, having traveled with the hot breeze. Fear gripped his heart tightly as he hurriedly scanned the area for a place to hide. Without another thought, he lunged behind the large bushes that he had been making his way for, when his brother was still behind him. His heart pounded loudly in his ears as he watched with revulsion and fear as the intruders appeared. They looked dangerous and cruel. They looked like the type that would take pleasure in causing others pain.

The nine-year-old covered his mouth and nose with his hands as he watched with dread. The intruders wandered around the now deserted street of any living civilians. They spoke in a vulgar language that created chills down his spine. He watched silently as the invaders kicked the fallen bodies and laughed among each other. Bright blue eyes stared in disbelief at the heartless beings.

What felt like hours, but must have been only fifteen to twenty minutes, the invaders finally disappeared further down the street. They finally disappeared from Cyan's eyesight. A shuttering sigh escaped his chapped lips; his tongue darted out with nervousness. "Where are you Gray?" He murmured softly to himself as he stood slowly from underneath the bushes. His bright blue eyes gazed around the area once again, hoping to find a sign of his brother, but found nothing. Tears of self-disgust and distress sprung in his eyes as he realized he had lost his younger brother.

The nine-year-old boy could remember not even a few days ago when he, his brother and their father had gone camping. Only two days ago they had been playing cricket and singing around campfires. Now, his baby brother was gone and his parents could be dead. Shaking off the feeling in the hollow of his stomach he quickly ran towards his home.

Pushing the door open, Cyan slipped into the house quietly, looking for any sign of his parents and baby brother. Blue eyes paused on a black shaped individual on the floor before the table. With a feeling of trepidation he gradually stepped into the room, making the yellow lights flare to life. Nausea sprung to his throat as he looked down at the unmoving figure of his father. "No – no – no." He muttered. Bending down on his hind legs he reached out trembling hands to check for a pulse, but found none.

"Gray!" He screamed out suddenly. "Mom!" Cyan exclaimed. Jumping up from his crouched position he ran from his father's still form and through the small home. He slammed doors and cupboards open as he hoped that his brother had thought to hide in one of them. Or that his mother had found him and they had hidden together.

Shaky hands ran through dark brown hair before squeezing the strands in despair and frustration. He was a failure. He had failed his father. He failed his mother...and failed his brother.

This was the worst day of his life.

27th  September 5075

Thunder boomed and lightening crashed against the ground in a furious rage. Rain splattered against the windows of the small room in a rhythmic tapping sound, like rocks on a hard glass surface. The sky was in turmoil of dark grays, light grays and blacks, only lighting up whenever thunder echoed through the small town. Towering trees of greens swayed harshly with the wind. Twelve-year-old Cyan Sinclair looked out sullenly from the window of the small pub his mother worked in. It had been three years since the death of his father and the disappearance of his little brother and his mother worked constantly now. It left young Cyan to fend for himself most nights for dinner as his mother was usually too tired to cook anything. Not only was she working double shifts, but Cyan was almost certain his mother blamed him for losing his baby brother that day.

Tears sprung in his eyes as he clenched them tightly closed. His fists tightened together as he took deep breaths in before letting them out slowly. Cyan's eyes fluttered open gradually as he finally got a handle on his emotions. It was no good crying over something that happened in the past. He had vowed to himself after that day that he would do everything he could to find his baby brother. He had kept that promise and had been searching but was constantly coming up with nothing.

The background noise of the patrons laughing, chattering and joking among each other echoed through the decent size room. Around the room were tables and booths set up for the citizens or visitors to sit around and take a drink. In the middle of the room was a dance floor where many could dance with each other while music from the old world played. Cyan wasn't too fond of the old world's music, but he did have to admit that they had been creative. The bar was in the back of the room with stools surrounding it. Behind the bar was a kitchen for the cook to make the patrons food.

Bright sky blue eyes scanned the crowded and loud bar with interest, trying to find someone new to speak with. Intelligent eyes landed on a hunched over figure dressed in fatigues that would have come from the old world. With a tilt of his head in interest, Cyan brushed away the strands of dark brown hair that fell into his eyes. He stood and slowly walked through the crowd. No one even gave him a second glance as he made his way through. It was well known that Cyan spent most of his time in the bar, talking to visitors that experienced new and interesting things in their lives. While he waited for his mother to get off of work. Cyan had always wanted to be like the individuals who had an interesting past and a good story to tell.

"Hi there." Cyan stated with a friendly smile across his lips as he took a seat across from the man. The older male looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties. He was scruffy looking, with a five o'clock shadow and sunken eyes with bruises under them from restless nights of no sleep. His eyes were a similar blue to Cyan's, but not quite. Dark brown hair fell over his forehead and slightly into his eyes.

"Hello." The man's voice was hoarse and had an accent of some sort, something that Cyan had never heard of, and he had heard of a lot of different accents.

"My names Cyan. What's your name?" The boy questioned.

"Captain Jack Harkness." Captain Harkness stated slowly as he looked curiously at the younger preteen. He, during his short time in this strange place, had never had someone come and talk to him before.

"That's a cool name. Unlike Cyan, it's so weird." Cyan remarked with a disgruntled look. Jack gave a chuckle of amusement as he raised an eyebrow at the young boy.

"I find that Cyan is rather unique and interesting." Jack stated calmly with a small spark in his eyes that brightened his face.

"I guess…" Cyan trailed off. "Anyways, you're not from around here are you?" Cyan rhetorically asked.

"No, I'm not. I don't know how I really got here." Captain Jack Harkness stated with a furrow of his eyebrow. He felt uneasy in such a strange world where laws were much more laid back. 'I mean they have rehabs for murder and sex.' The man thought to himself with a frown.

"I thought so. You stand out pretty easily. Probably why you haven't had anyone to talk to." Cyan stated obviously. "Where you from?" The curious child solicited.

"I'm from a different…time period." Jack stated slowly. Cyan's eyes widened with awe and curiosity.

"What time period?" Cyan questioned eagerly. He leaned forward, placing his arms on the table and crossing them as he looked intently at the older man. Time Travel had always fascinated him. He always wondered what it would be like to go to different times through out history. From all the books he had read, it would be an amazing experience.

"I was in World War II when I suddenly appeared in this place. Where am I, exactly?" Jack Harkness asked. He wasn't sure if he really wanted to know.

"You're in Boeshane Peninsula. You're still on Earth, of course. But they're colonies now, not…countries or nations." Cyan said as if the words were something strange, which to him, it kind of was.

"Oh." Jack stated faintly. "And the year?" He asked hesitantly.

"You're in the 51st Century, Captain Harkness. The year is 5075." Cyan watched with amusement and sympathy as Captain Jack Harkness paled. The older man grabbed the glass of alcohol and chugged it down with a gasp.

"Do you have any stories you can share with me, Captain Jack Harkness?" The younger boy questioned intriguingly.

"Sure kid. Not like I have anything else to do." Captain Harkness said. With a deep breath that he let out slowly, Captain Jack began to explain his life before he joined the army and during his time in the war. Cyan listened in fascination as the young preteen ingrained everything the Captain said, to his memory. He began to find a new hero for him as the man spoke of his hardships, his accomplishments and his life to the younger boy.

This would be the turning point for young Cyan Sinclair after a meeting with Captain Jack Harkness, the original.

10th  May 5085

Twenty-one-year-old Jack Harkness sat silently upon his bar stool. A glass of Hyper-Vodka was placed before him, nearly empty of the liquid. His arms sat propped up by his elbows as he held his head up with the palm of his hands. Blue eyes gazed around in thoughtfulness as he glanced at the different bar regulars, finding the visitors within the large and noisy nightclub with ease.

His eyes dimmed slightly as he remembered the events of a year ago when he had, had to watch one of his friend being tortured in front of him for weeks. Finally those horrible things had disappeared, leaving him with his nearly dead and insane comrade. It was all because he wanted to fight against those horrid beings. He completely blamed himself for what happened, but he couldn't change what was done. So he pushed those horrible memories back and continued on with living life as best he could.

It also didn't help that on his seventeenth, when he reached majority, he was gradually overcome with memories of a past that was not his own, A Past Life. The words seemed foreign to him as his mind wandered over the memories he was still receiving. For every year since his birthday, one year of his past life was given to him, making him relieve the misery, the pain, the anger, the loathing and the fear. He was and would never be his past life. He was Captain Jack Harkness now. No one was going to change that, not even memories of a past life from centuries ago.

"Hey." A male voice stated smoothly, sliding up to his left side he was met with a leer, as the man's brown eyes looked him over

"Hello." Jack stated with a charming smile. His blue eyes twinkled brilliantly in the florescent lights hanging over the bar. The noise of the patrons and the music around him didn't deter him from his next success of scoring a rather handsome bed partner. That would definitely cheer him up. "Care to buy me a drink?" He inquired with a raised eyebrow and a sly grin.

"Why of course. How can I deny someone as good-looking as you?" The other man inquired rhetorically with a grin of amusement.

Jack knew that it a rhetorical question, but he couldn't help himself. "No one has ever denied me yet. And I'd be surprised if anyone ever did." He joked with a wink. The older male, around his late twenties, probably twenty-five, gave a laugh of amusement. With a raised hand, the man ordered a drink for himself and his new 'friend'.

"I'm Daniel, if you cared to know." Daniel stated with a glint in his dark brown eyes.

"Well, Daniel, I'm Captain Jack Harkness. Pleasure to meet you." Jack said with a smile.

"What are you a Captain of?" Daniel inquired with a raised eyebrow.

"That is a question that you can leave up to your imagination." He winked again. Lifting up the shot glass he downed it in own go. Letting out a breath slowly he tilted his head to the side and looked the other man over with lust bright in his eyes.

"You know, I have a far better idea for the two of us to do, if you get my drift, handsome." He stated. "Perhaps you'd like to come to my hotel room?" Jack questioned with a lazy smirk. The older man leaned forward so close to Jack's face that their breath mixed together.

"Who am I to deny you?" The twenty-five-year-old questioned with a chuckle. Jack gave a chuckle and slid off his stood and steadied himself by using his new drinking partner for balance as his buzz settled over him. Perhaps he had drunk a little too much.

"I may have drunken a little too much." He muttered aloud with amusement at his own expense. "Come along." Jack uttered. Captain Jack Harkness was never one to truly fool around with something like sex when it came to any gorgeous looking species. Yes, he flirted and that did tend to get that person in bed with him. But Jack knew that the person he was about to bed knew it was nothing serious. With a smirk of success, Jack and his new bed partner slipped out of the nightclub and down the street, heading for whatever apartment was closest.

31st  October 2009

Captain Jack Harkness gave a bone weary sigh as he leaned tiredly against the comfortable black leather seat that was behind his desk. Eyes of sky blue stared unseeingly up at the ceiling as he rubbed his burning and aching eyes tiredly. After dealing with yet another incident with the Rift, it left him feeling drained. Jack just wanted to collapse onto his bed and bury himself away with his lover for a week.

It wasn't just the Rift that was acting up that made him feel exhausted, but also this day always made him remember his old life and the day he was born. Which ironically enough was on Halloween, to this time period anyway. By the time he was born, his generation didn't exactly celebrate holidays much anymore, not when every day could be a holiday.

"Like that would happen." He mused to himself aloud, with a chuckle at the thought of getting a break for a week. A glass of scotch was placed before him on his desk. Pieces of paper with near illegible words scribbled across them were scattered across his desk. A near soundless sigh escaped his luscious pink lips as his thoughts began to drift back to the old days when he was still a Time Agent. He knew he should have never trusted them, but did to a certain extent anyways. All it had gotten him in the end was two years of his memory gone. But there were other times to think about than that particular time in his life. Now was the time to be thinking about the blasted paperwork. When he was a Time Agent and con man, he mulled petulantly, he never had to deal with paperwork.

"Sir?" The sudden voice of Ianto Jones caused Jack to startle in surprise. Bright eyes snapped up from his musing and to the doorway. His sky blue eyes sparkled in the light at the sight of his lover and friend. Jack could never express how glad and relieved he was to have been able to save his team from almost certain death years ago. They had been together for so long that it wasn't right for them to go through it all and then die because of accidents that wouldn't have happened to anyone else.

"Ianto, lovely to see you again. You know, you look amazing in that suit today." He remarked with a half smile. His eyes took in Ianto's appearance, going from head to foot with a leer.

"Careful. That's harassment, sir." Ianto stated with a smile. He shuffled his feet, his face flushing a light pink at the heated look he was being given by Jack.

Jack made no reply, only a cheeky little smile. Standing up from his chair he grabbed his ankle length, black wool trench coat. Sliding it on, he sauntered over to Ianto with a glint in his blue eyes. He stopped before the younger man and looked at him with a thoughtful expression. "You came to tell me something, Yan?" He inquired playfully with a raised eyebrow. He used the nickname for Ianto whenever he got tired of addressing him in his full name. He did this for someone when he usually just wanted to tease. 'It was always fun to make Ianto blush.' Jack mused to himself with a twitch of his lips.

"There's a disturbance in the Rift, sir." Ianto finally said in a soft voice, as if breaking bad news.

"Ah, yes, the usual I suppose?" Jack said rhetorically. He sighed inwardly at the sudden somberness that came into being every time something happened with the Rift.

"Not exactly sir –" Ianto began.

"Could we maybe drop the "sir" now?" Jack questioned, not quite keeping his annoyance out of his voice before pausing. "Haven't I said that before?" He asked with a frown.

Ianto gave an amused grin as he looked up at his Captain, knowing that he wasn't annoyed with him. "Once, I believe, maybe twice." He said in his soft welsh accent. "As I was saying, Jack, the Rift is acting strange. It seems like there's something or someone purposely disturbing it, from England." The younger man watched Jack's face closely and noticed that his expression seemed to stiffen slightly at the mention of England. "Do you not like England, Captain?" He asked, a worried frown marring his features.

"No, no. It's nothing like that." Jack raised a hand and pulled Ianto towards him, his hands lowered and wrapped around the younger man's waist comfortably. His dazzling blue eyes glittered with mischief. "Now, I believe we haven't seen much of each other lately." Jack stated pompously. He bent down, capturing the younger man's lips in a searing kiss. Ianto's arms rose instinctively to wrap around Jack's neck, pulling him closer.

Their lips moved together in sync with one another, clearly showing they had done this many times before. Their tongues danced and roamed around each others mouths. The Captain's hand rose behind Ianto's head and his fingers threaded through the other man's thick curly hair, pulling his body closer. Minutes passed before Jack finally pulled away first, his breathing slightly uneven from their heated kiss. His usually bright eyes had darkened with lust as he stared into Ianto's slightly dazed blue eyes.

The older male's amusement was glaringly clear from the twitch of his lips that moved upward in a slight smile. "You all right, Yan?" Captain Jack Harkness inquired with satisfaction. He knew he was good, and had absolutely no trouble admitting it. After all, it was always fun to flirt and make out with any good-looking person, especially with someone as handsome as Ianto Jones.

"Mhm." Ianto hummed. Clearing his throat he allowed his arms to slowly loosen from around Jack's neck. The pale, spidery fingers slid down his arms; causing a shiver to shoot down Jack's spine, before dropping them back at his side. "We should really go up and see about the Rift's fluctuations, sir." The brunette haired man remarked. His flushed face gradually went back to normal as the younger male turned on his heel and sauntered out of the room, his backside swaying. Jack leaned to the side, his eyes watching the movement with his lust building up once again.

"Great ass." He stated aloud to himself. Ianto, hearing him from not too far down the hallway called out behind him.

"That would be considered harassment, Captain." Shaking his head in amusement, the two thousand and two hundred-year-old immortal followed silently after the tea boy. 'It's just another day in the office.' He thought to himself in pleasure.