12 September 2009 @ 11:26 pm

Title: Fallout, Part TwentyEight

Author: Emma

Characters: A whole bunch of folk.

Rating: Starts PG, but hey, it’s got Jack in it!

Disclaimer: Oh, please. If I owned them, would I let some of those idiots write the scripts? And if I were making any money off them, would I be where they could find me?
Author's Note: This fic is CoE compliant

Part One is here; Part Two is here; Part Three is here; Part Four is here; Part Five is here; Part Six is here; Part Seven is here; Part Eight is here; Part Nine is here; Part Ten is here; Part Eleven is here; Part Twelve is here; Part Thirteen is here; Part Fourteen is here; Part Fifteen is here; Part Sixteen is here; Part Seventeen is here; Part Eighteen is here; Part Nineteen is here; Part Twenty is here; Part TwentyOne is here; Part TwentyTwo is here; Part TwentyThree is here; Part TwentyFour is here; Part TwentyFive is here; Part TwentySix is here; Part TwentySeven is here

            “The Doc is your grandfather.”


            “Stop it, Jack.”


            “Ianto is your grandson.”


            “Jack, stop it.”


            “But Ianto…”




            The identical sound coming from two different directions had everyone around the table bursting into laughter.


            “Give it up, Jack,” Martha said between giggles, “It’s the Universe’s way of paying you back.”


            “All right, all right. But…”


            “No buts.” Ifan said firmly. “Eat your pasta and stop stuttering.”


            “Yes, Time Lord.”


            “Shut it, Jack.”  Ifan whispered in Jack’s ear. “Unless you want to sleep alone tonight.”


            “Ah…” Jack picked up his fork. “Shutting it.”


            “So are you going down to Cardiff?” Donna asked the Doctor. “You have more family there.”


            “Yes,” The Time Lord looked slightly bewildered. “Family… it’s been a long time.”


            “Now you shut it.” She retorted. “You’ve always had family. Just not by blood.” Laying her hand on his, she smiled. “But it is nice. Tell me about Susan.”


            “She was pretty, and sharp. A bit mouthy, like you.” He sighed. “She fell in love and married David Campbell… he’s your ancestor, too, Ifan. You’re descended from Scottish freedom fighters. Twenty-second century.”


            “What was he fighting?” Martha asked.


            “What this family always fights.” The Doctor’s face darkened. “Daleks.” He made an effort to smile. “Backwards in time, though. Those were earlier for us, later for you. It’s a…”


            “Timey-wimey thing!” the Companions around the table chorused.


            “Cheeky. You lot are always cheeky.”


            “Your fault. You raised us,” Jack grinned at him. “Wait until you meet David and Mica.”


            “Wait ‘till you meet Rhi.” Ianto said. “She’ll have chapter and verse of the family history out of you before you’ve eaten your second scone.”


            “I’m looking forward to it.”


            Jack was looking at Ifan. “So am I.”


            This time the chorus was all female, as Martha, Donna, Tish, and Kathy sing-songed in unison, “Stop it, Jack!”

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