Author's Notes: Spoilers for DW Season 4 and TW Season 2. Beta'd by the fabulous LadyChi.

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Jack didn't think he was really cut out for vacations. He was beginning to regret listening to Gwen when she'd told him to take one.

There were too many people. Loud, happy people, when all Jack wanted was to be alone someplace quiet.

He scanned the shoreline. It was the beginning of August, the most crowded time of year for the seaside. The beach was packed with people and none of them were the type Jack wanted to get to know.

It was still too soon, he realized, even though it had been months. Four months since Ianto, just twice that since Owen and Tosh.

Really, he needed a drink. He never drank, but the past few months had been enough to inspire him to do so. It was hard enough dealing with the loss of three teammates–three good teammates, but there were also new people to deal with. Martha had been helping them, but she would have to return to her regular job soon. It had been both her and Gwen, really, who had suggested he take this trip before Martha left.

He hadn't wanted to be away from the Hub at first, but they had convinced him. Tosh had done a lot to improve the rift monitors before she'd died, and Gwen and Martha had convinced him that they could look after things themselves. "It'll be good training," said Gwen, when she'd put him on the train. "The new guys have got to learn somehow, right?"

He had grudgingly agreed that yes, she was right, hugged her good-bye and then he'd been off, watching her wave from the platform until the train was out of sight.

Jack stared down at his feet. He wasn't used to sandals. Martha had insisted on them–she said you couldn't take a proper beach holiday without them. Apparently, you couldn't take a proper beach holiday without shorts and a loud shirt either. She'd insisted on those, too.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He didn't feel quite like braving the beach yet. He did need a drink, but maybe not a particularly potent one. He was just thirsty–a smoothie sounded good right about now. He'd seen a café near the hotel; maybe they could make him one.

**

The café was thankfully not crowded, so Jack took a seat at the bar and ordered. He was alone in the place except for a man at a table whose face was buried in a financial paper. Jack leaned back on his stool and stared at the ceiling fan–he knew in his head that this should be a nice vacation, but this was only the first day and he was already looking forward to the fortnight being over. Maybe he should just go home–call Gwen and see if she and Rhys would like his room. They deserved a beach holiday, too.

"Twenty-seven? Banana smoothie?"

That was his order. He reached for the glass and his fingers brushed someone else's. He looked up and froze.

"Doctor?" he asked in amazement. "What are you doing here?"

The Doctor blinked in confusion. "Sorry, do I know you?" He looked at the receipt in his hand. "I'm twenty-seven. This is mine." He picked Jack's crumpled receipt off the countertop and unfolded it. "You're twenty-eight, see? Oh, there's yours!" The boy behind the counter placed another tall glass in front of Jack.

Jack stared at the Doctor. Was he joking? This was a bit sustained for a Doctor joke, and his eyes really seemed to hold no glimmer of recognition. "You don't recognize me?" he asked tentatively.

"No, should I?" The Doctor sucked at his smoothie through his straw in a fashion that was really quite distracting. No. Jack snapped his mind back to the situation at hand. Something was definitely wrong. This was the Doctor, he was certain of it; he'd recognize that man anywhere. The problem was that he didn't seem to recognize Jack. He decided to stay and talk to him. If the Doctor was really in trouble, Jack would try to get him back to the Hub so they could work something out.

The Doctor was still staring at him curiously. "Now that I think about it, you do seem a bit familiar… Are you on the telly?" He looked around. "Is this one of those hidden camera shows? No, no, wait… have you read my articles? Have you really read my articles?" He looked pleased.

Jack stared.

"Or maybe…" He paused, head cocked. "No. No. It can't be." He took a seat next to Jack at the bar.

"What?" Jack took a sip of his own smoothie.

The Doctor shook his head. "Nothing, really. Just… nothing." He looked down at his drink for a moment, and then said suddenly, "I'm sorry, I haven't introduced myself! I'm John Smith. Doctor John Smith. Mathematician." He reached out and shook Jack's hand.

Jack opened his mouth but no sound came out.

"Charmed, I'm sure," said the Doctor. He was doing that sucking thing again. "And you are?"

Jack forced himself to speak. "Captain Jack Harkness. I'm Captain Jack Harkness."

"Oh, a captain!" The Doctor grinned. "Are you on leave?"

"You could say that." Jack took a gulp of his smoothie and wished it was something stronger.

**

This John Smith seemed to be an interesting guy, despite his unfortunate willingness to pair socks with sandals. He was a mathematician, working on a very difficult proof and he was talking to Jack as if he understood everything he'd written about in his journal articles. Jack understood a bit of it–this century's advanced mathematics had been basic by his time, so he was able to nod along, which just made the Doctor even more excited.

Jack hadn't noticed they'd been sitting there talking for so long until they were each on their third smoothie. The Doctor drained his glass and stood up. "I was going to take a walk, build up an appetite before dinner," he said, smiling pleasantly. "Would you like to join me?"

Jack stared.

"On the beach?" the Doctor continued, looking a bit nervous. "A walk on the beach." He stuck his hands in the pockets of his shorts. "Just to get some air, and well, I'm sort of alone and I'd like the company."

"Sure," said Jack, standing. He didn't want the Doctor to get too far away from him in the state that he was in. He was still wracking his brain, trying to come up with a reason why the Doctor would have lost his memories. "Let me just make a phone call first." Martha would know what to do.

He ducked into an alcove by the men's room and pulled out his cell phone, calling up Martha's number almost automatically. She answered on the first ring.

"Jack!" she cried. "How are you?" She seemed to be making no effort to hide the fact that she'd been worried about him; he imagined her motioning Gwen over and the two women huddled over the phone's earpiece.

"I'm fine," said Jack, keeping his voice low, watching the Doctor. He was examining one of the potted plants by the door as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. He looked much more relaxed than Jack had ever seen him. He pulled a pen out of his shirt pocket and lifted one of the leaves, studying it. "Listen, there's something I've got to tell you."

"What?" asked Martha, sounding interested.

"Um…" Suddenly it occurred to Jack what must have happened. It was the chameleon arch. Just as the Master had hidden his Time Lord self away in the fob watch to escape the Time War, the Doctor must have encountered some enemy that he needed to hide from. If that was the case, the thing to do was to keep him from regaining his memories until it was safe.

"What have you got to tell me, Jack?" Martha pressed.

"Oh." Jack looked around. Did he even have to tell her? The human Doctor looked so… innocent. So vulnerable. He needed someone to look after him, but Jack was certainly capable of doing that. He'd keep an eye on him, ascertain the threat and nudge him back toward his Time Lord self when it was safe. He didn't need to tell Martha this had even happened. It would give her one less thing to worry about, for one. As long as he knew what the Doctor was up to, everything would be okay. "I just wanted to tell you what nice weather I've had," he said lamely. "Gwen was saying it might rain."

"Oh, that's good." Martha sounded relieved. "You enjoy your good weather. Everything's fine here. Gwen and Mickey say hi."

"Well, give them my love." Jack's attention was still on the Doctor, who was now intrigued by a statue by the door. "I think I'll hit the beach."

"Have fun!" said Martha cheerfully. "Give us a ring if you're feeling lonely."

Jack assured her he would and signed off. "Everything okay?" the Doctor asked.

"Oh, yeah," said Jack. "Just checking in with some friends. They were the one who told me to take this trip."

"Busy time?" the Doctor asked as he led the way back out onto the street.

"I guess," said Jack. He paused, suddenly getting a little thrill of possibility. The Doctor didn't know him. He could say anything, really, and the Doctor wouldn't know any better. "Actually, I'm sort of trying to decide what to do now. Doing a lot of thinking."

"Ah!" The Doctor nodded. "Thinking is good. So, you're not with the military?"

"Oh, no actually…" Jack searched the recesses of his brain for something else that might use a captain. "I'm a policeman. Detective."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Interesting! I think…" He frowned. "I think I always wanted to be a policeman. But, well." He flexed his arm. "Not really built for it."

Jack smiled. This was decidedly odd, making small talk with the Doctor. Though he wasn't really the Doctor, was he? This was a man who looked uncannily like him, yes, but this was not the Doctor. He didn't know who Jack was; there was none of the history between them. Yes, he thought. There was none of the history between them. He looked at the Doctor out of the corner of his eye, trying not to be caught staring.

No history meant a clean slate…

Jack shook his head. He couldn't get close to John Smith. He had to keep an eye on him for the Doctor's sake.

"Tell me about your work, Captain," said the Doctor. He was smiling at Jack in a way that made it hard for him to form sentences.

"Jack, please," he insisted weakly.

"Then I insist that you call me John!"

"All right." Jack frowned. It was weird to think of the Doctor as John. "I'm a detective–homicide in Cardiff." The lie (embellishment?) came easily, but he still kept looking at John for signs of suspicion or recognition.

As they talked, Jack found that he quite lost track of time. He still wasn't used to seeing the Doctor look so... happy. Of course, his usual manner was cheerful and carefree, but John Smith was truly happy–it was as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He looked freer, younger. Jack was finding that he liked it. He even noticed himself loosening up, laughing more, as they talked.

They talked about everything. Jack was afraid they would run out of subjects, but John seemed to keep coming up with new ones: art, history, music.

They had walked quite a long way on the beach and people were starting to leave. The sun was just beginning to go down, turning the sky and the sea below it a mix of blues, reds and purples.

"Dust particles in the air," said John, stopping. "Isn't it amazing?" He looked at Jack, his eyes bright. "It's just dust particles in the air, but it's so beautiful."

Jack nodded and turned his attention back to the sunset, though he kept one eye on John.

"Tell me, Jack," said John suddenly. "Why are you here alone?"

Jack jumped. "Oh… well, my friend–colleague–she said I could use a vacation." He ran a hand through his hair. "A lot's happened lately. I think she thinks I'm not dealing with it well."

John nodded. "I'm just here for pleasure–don't really have anyone to travel with." He looked down at his feet.

"Me neither," said Jack quickly. "I… there's no one. Anymore."

They both stood there in silence, watching the sun's slow progress toward the horizon.

"We should have dinner," said John abruptly. "You and me. Dinner. Together. We should have it." He didn't look at Jack when he said this.

Jack froze. Was there some code this was breaking? The don't-go-on-dates-with-friends-when-they've-lost-their-memories-of-you code? Or maybe it wasn't even a date and he was just getting ahead of himself. This was the Doctor after all.

"Sure," he heard himself say. "That would be great."

John beamed. "Brilliant." He grinned. "I'll meet you at eight. There was a place across the street from that café. Seafood." He stuck his hands in his pockets and looked out over the ocean. "I like seafood."

**

Jack was into the sixteenth minute of his pre-dinner shower when he reminded himself for the sixteenth time that this wasn't a date. This really wasn't a date. It couldn't be a date. This was the Doctor. He shut off the water. Maybe he should have told Martha about the Doctor. He could still call her, he supposed. He wrapped a towel around his waist and headed into the bedroom to get his phone.

When he called, he got Martha's voicemail. He briefly debated leaving a message telling her what had happened, but he decided it would be easier to tell her in person, so he simply left a message telling her to call him back and hung up.

He had to get dressed. He'd probably need to wear a jacket, had he even packed one? Jack tossed his phone onto the bed and began digging through his suitcase. He hadn't expected to go anywhere where he might need to dress up; he had packed somewhat haphazardly. There was one, thankfully. He paired it with his least-wrinkled shirt. He'd have to go tieless, but maybe that wasn't bad, it sort of fit the beach atmosphere.

He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and smirked. If this wasn't a date, it was almost a waste–he didn't look half bad.

The restaurant was not crowded and he spotted John easily, at a table by the window.

"I ordered us a bottle of wine," he said as Jack sat down across from him. "I hope that's all right."

"Fine with me," said Jack, hoping to distract himself with the menu. The questions from earlier were still weighing on his mind. He felt guilty that he couldn't be honest with John, but he also realized that everything John was telling him–about his parents' occupations and his lifelong dreams–was a lie, too. John just didn't know it. He really would call Martha after dinner. This was much too complicated.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Jack's head jerked up. John was smiling at him, in a way that filled Jack with warmth. So he was attracted to John. That was no surprise. He was attracted to the Doctor, and they had the same body, were the same person. No. Not the same person. John and the Doctor were not the same person.

"Jack, are you all right?" John looked concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Jack took a tentative sip of his wine. "Just thinking." He shook his head. "Sorry, I've just had a rough time of it lately."

John nodded. "Even if you don't want to talk about it…" He reached over and laid a hand on Jack's arm. "I've found that just being with a friend can help. Sometimes." He gave Jack a warm smile and then withdrew his hand. "What are you thinking about ordering? I quite like the looks of this tilapia."

Jack finally settled on salmon, though he barely tasted it. He kept watching John, trying to gauge his intentions. If he really was… interested in Jack… well, he supposed it was easier to keep an eye on the Doctor if he was going to do this with Jack than with someone else. Though really, he knew it was wrong.

This may not have been the Doctor, but the Doctor would remember everything John Smith did and if Jack got too close to John, then it would just be awkward later with the Doctor.

John seemed to notice that Jack seemed more subdued. He continued trying to be cheerful, but Jack detected a trace of hurt in his eyes. He was glad when dinner was over. They walked in silence down the street away from the restaurant. They'd split the bill, even though John had, at first, insisted on paying and had kept touching Jack's arm. He was getting chills just remembering it.

They were headed vaguely in the direction of John's hotel, Jack realized. He tried to ignore the feelings of trepidation. He needed to stay with John, to prevent his getting in trouble, but he didn't trust himself to go upstairs with him, if he asked him. He needed to come up with something else.

"Do you have plans for tomorrow yet?" he asked.

John blinked. "Well, no, I didn't. Do you?" He looked disappointed.

"There's an art museum nearby I wanted to visit. Do you like art?"

John's face brightened. "As it happens, I do like art! Quite a bit. Would you like to go?"

Jack grinned. "That's what I was asking you."

They made plans to get together the following morning, in the same café where they had met. Jack was feeling quite optimistic as he returned to his room. Martha hadn't returned his call, but she was probably busy. Jack was doing fine on his own. He definitely had the situation under control.