April 5, 2006

My Mickathon entry

Overly Devoted Archivist Uncategorized fanfiction, fanfiction: doctor who, jack harkness, mickey smith, my fanfiction, my stuff 12 Comments

Written for nefthoron, who requested Mechanic!Mickey, post-POTW Jack and Mickey’s website. :D

Title: Previously
Rating: PG
Summary: An almost ordinary day in the life of Mickey Smith.

Previously

It was eleven ‘o clock on a Friday night and Mickey was still at work. He was incredibly annoyed about that. He wanted to be with Rose instead- in his absence, though, she was going clubbing with Shireen and some other mates. He probably wouldn’t see her till Sunday.

He hated his work, it was so boring. He’d thought being a mechanic would be exciting, maybe even bordering on fun, but he couldn’t stand it these days. He’d thought about chucking it in, but the fact was, he needed the money.

And at least he was okay at it. Some of the buggers he worked with just gave up at the thought of doing anything harder than changing a tire, and spent their time watching porn in the back room instead.

Eleven bloody o’ clock. It was ridiculous.

“Oi, Mickey.”

His boss had just stuck his head round the door.

“Give the car a clean, then you can go.”

He cleaned the car, not very carefully. It wasn’t that good a job, but he didn’t care. He left the garage and went to the pub.

*****

The other guys- Steve, Danny and Tim, his coworkers- were all slumped around on a table outside the pub. It was getting dark and the street lights were flickering on. Mickey thought it was too cold to stay outside, but he sat with them anyway. They were in the middle of a conversation about football and only looked at him and nodded when he turned up. One of them passed him a drink.

“You buy me one later.”

“Yeah, alright.”

They wandered on to the topic of girls, as four young men drinking on a Friday night almost inevitably would. Steve wolf-whistled at a girl in a red skirt entering the pub; she turned and stuck her tongue out at him. Then Tim and Steven began randomly shouting out girl’s names in the hope someone would answer. Then they got to ‘Rose’ and stopped and started laughing.

“Rose, she’s a catch, man,” Danny said to Mickey, shifting about on the uncomfortable wooden table. “Gorgeous. Where is she, anyway?”

“Out at a club,” Mickey answered. “Spendin’ time with her mates.”

“Ooh yeah, her mates!” Steve hooted. “That Shireen…”

“Oh, she’s a bitch-”

“-bitch like your mum-”

“Shut up-”

The conversation was getting rapidly more inane. Mickey reached in his pocket for some change.

“I’m gonna get some crisps, who wants some?”

There was a chorus of ‘no’ from all around the table. Mickey wandered indoors- it was much warmer in there, too warm- purchased some crisps and went back outside. He paused for a few seconds to put his change back in his pocket, and when he looked up there was some bloke standing across the road, under a street light, staring.

Mickey wondered why on earth he was staring, put his change in his pocket and went back to the others. Tim was lighting up a cigarette, and Danny was talking away nineteen to the dozen.

“…so, he wants us to play this gig, right? And I ain’t gonna to say no to him. And it ain’t my fault if that’s the same day as the theatre, she shoulda checked with me-”

“God, she sounds like a right bitch.”

“You ain’t heard the half of it-”

Mickey heard footsteps all of a sudden- someone was walking up behind him. The others were still chatting merrily, then Danny suddenly stopped mid-sentence.

“Yeah?” he asked suspiously.

Mickey turned slowly around, suddenly a little scared about who was there. But it was only a man, the man from across the street- a man with a beard and messed-up hair and dirty clothes and very tired eyes.

Oh crap, he’s here to talk to me-

“Who the hell are you?” Steve asked, on the defensive immediately. But the man, whoever he was, ignored him and looked only at Mickey.

Then he spoke.

“I don’t think the beard suits me, do you?”

His voice was low and crackly, like he hadn’t said much for a while. He sounded like he might be an American. Mickey had never heard that voice in his entire life, and he wasn’t sure what to do.

“Um, no. Doesn’t suit you.”

The man leaned closer- for someone who looked so unkempt, he didn’t really smell all that bad. “Nice to see you again, Mickey Smith. I was kinda hoping Rose would be with you, where is she?”

The other three boys had been quietly snickering; but when the man refered to Mickey by name they fell silent, apart from Danny.

“Hey- you know each other?”

The man ignored him. “Where’s Rose? She is alright, isn’t she?”

“Um, she’s out clubbing,” Mickey said quickly. He opted not to disclose her exact location; he wasn’t about to tell this hairy maniac where his girlfriend was. “That’s all I know- she’s just out…”

“Well, I might have to go and look for her. And you’re bloody coming. I bet they told you I was dead, didn’t they?” the man went on. “And that’s the thing, you see. I was dead…I don’t know how the hell it happened…”

Steve and Danny both let out a burst of laughter.

“Mickey, who’s this freak?” Tim asked loudly.

“I don’t know!” Mickey almost snapped. At that, the man jerked away from him.

“Oh shit-”

He straightened up and looked hard at him.

“Mickey Smith. What year is it?”

“Two thousand and five! Don’t you bloody know that?”

The man groaned and put his head in his hands, then snapped out of it and turned his back on them. “Right. Few years out. Damn. Damn, damn, damn.” For one split second Mickey thought the man was about to scream or cry or something, but he didn’t and instead turned back to look at them. “So,” he said, pointing at Mickey. “Are you gonna get a shock in a year or so. Good luck with that. Now I’m gonna go shave off this goddamn beard-”

He turned around and walked off, just like that. He didn’t even look back at them.

Steve and Danny and Tim were laughing, although they seemed a bit uncomfortable. Mickey just stared after the man, puzzled and freaked out, as he crossed the road and eventually vanished into the shadows.

“So- mate of yours?” Tim asked.

“I dunno who he is!”

“Seemed to know you.”

“I don’t know him!”

“Hey, calm down a little,” Steve said.

Mickey didn’t feel calm- he felt nervous and actually a little worried about Rose. What if this guy knew her, what if he was some kind of psychopath…

He knew he wouldn’t be able to even remotely enjoy the rest of the evening. When he quickly texted Rose and had no answer within five minutes, he felt even worse. He paid and left. The other three now seemed highly amused by the entire incident; they were shouting “YOU SEE, I WAS DEAD!” at the sky as he walked down the road away from them. They’d probably never let him forget it.

He went home and phoned Rose- she had just got back, she was fine- and then went to bed. He was still a little freaked. But in a matter of weeks, he had indeed forgotten it.

*****

It was eleven ‘o clock on a Friday night a year or so later, and Mickey was at home in front the computer checking the UNIT website, just in case anything had been added lately. It hadn’t.

He glanced at the stuff strewn over his desk. Photos, printouts, a menu for a local restaurant. To think, if only Rose was here, her and him might be eating at that restaurant right now, and then maybe going to see a movie…

Maybe.

Feeling incredibly down, he went to his own website- the one that had belonged to a man now dead. He examined his latest update. He talked about Rose- he always talked about Rose. Those who checked the website every day must think he thought about nothing but her…

Wait a minute…

There was something written at the bottom of the page- he hadn’t done it. Oh God. Who was it a message from? The Doctor? Rose? Or someone else…

He stared.

It said only five words-

Told you so.

-Captain Jack