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donutsweeper) wrote2007-06-25 04:42 pm
donutsweeper) wrote2007-06-25 04:42 pm
The Incident At Ellis Island
Title: The Incident at Ellis Island
Pairing/Warning: None, slight violence, but much less than the average episode of Torchwood
Summary: According to the records in September 1892 the RMS Etruria sailed from Liverpool, England to Ellis Island, New York with the passenger James Harkness aboard. This is the story of his time on the ship and what happened to him after disembarking at Ellis Island
Word Count: 1377
Author's Notes: Based on a quote from "Utopia" so slight spoiler
beta-ed by the wonderfulraven_elfwitch, with my thanks!
Pairing/Warning: None, slight violence, but much less than the average episode of Torchwood
Summary: According to the records in September 1892 the RMS Etruria sailed from Liverpool, England to Ellis Island, New York with the passenger James Harkness aboard. This is the story of his time on the ship and what happened to him after disembarking at Ellis Island
Word Count: 1377
Author's Notes: Based on a quote from "Utopia" so slight spoiler
beta-ed by the wonderful
raven_elfwitch, with my thanks!"1892, Got in a fight on Ellis Island. A man shot me through the heart. Then I woke up." Captain Jack Harkness, Utopia
The RMS Etruria was an amazing ship. It offered ornate first class rooms, separate dining for the first class passengers, a music room, a gentleman's smoking room and even the unheard of luxury of refrigeration machinery, but what amazed most people was that it was capable of traveling at a stunning 19 knots. That's what most the passengers discussed while strolling on the promenade the first day on board. Standing alone, perhaps unaffected by the ship's majesty, a tall gentleman leaned haphazardly against the rail watching with tired detachment.
However even he couldn't help smiling at the incredible awe in the voice of one young lass as she exclaimed to her mother, "It's so fast!"
"Only six days to cross the Atlantic," the mother replied.
Then, noticing the lonely man with the wistful smile she said to him, "Incredible, isn't it? Who would have ever thought we could travel this fast!"
He smiled at her innocence, and her amazement. His old eyes seemed to twinkle with some secret amusement.
"Absolutely unbelievable," he said with complete sincerity. "James Harkness." He held out his hand.
"Evelyn Smith. Pleased to meet you," she replied, offering her own hand in response, and blushed when Jack brought it to his lips for a kiss.
"Mrs. Smith. And who is this?" he asked, bending down and as he offered the child a firm handshake and a dazzling smile.
"Mabel," the little one responded, "Pleased to me you Mr. Har.... umm... Mr. Har...." she trailed off.
"Oh, just call me Jack, everyone else does. Are you traveling with your Mum to New York?"
"With Mummy and Daddy and Evie and Martin. I'm six. How old are you?" Her mother laughed, to cover the embarrassment of such a personal question.
"A lot older than I look," he replied, winking at her.
"I'm so sorry," Evelyn said. "Mabel, that was terribly rude. Please apologize to the gentleman..."
Jack cut her off. "No, no, no. Don't worry about it." He went down on one knee to look Mabel straight in the eye. "Never be afraid to ask a question. You may not get the answer you want, or even one you can use, but, at least you tried!" And then he laughed, an open and inviting laugh that Mabel and Evelyn couldn't help but being caught up in.
They invited him to dine with them that evening and he enthralled the children with his supposedly true, yet highly improbable, adventures in faraway lands. And after sending the children to bed Evelyn and Oliver spent hours amicably chatting with their new friend. He listened intently as Oliver explained about the world of the printing business and the press he ran in Manhattan and marveled with them over the technology of the day and just what man seems capable of accomplishing.
The Smith family spent much of the voyage in the comfortable presence of Jack Harkness. When alone with him they each found themselves reveling in his attention and spilling their secrets to him; Oliver was nervous that Evelyn wouldn't be happy in the home he'd bought for them in New York while Emily secretly feared that Oliver would miss the freedom he'd had while his family was still in England. Even the children confided in him, Evie would miss her friends, Martin the food, perhaps Mabel was the only one at ease with the turmoil; she still had her doll, and that's all that mattered to her.
Oliver thoroughly enjoyed the discussions he had with Jack in the smoking room. They'd gotten in the habit of retiring there for a post-meal cigar to "solve the world's problems," as Evelyn so aptly phrased it once.
"Seriously Jack, you need to think of the future! Like I'm always telling Evelyn, the 20th century is just around the corner! This is going to be the century when everything changes and you have to be ready!" Oliver sighed as his companion simply responded with a rakish, abet humoring, smile. "Honestly, Jack, you are the most short sighted man I have ever met, don't you think about the future? Plan for it?"
Jack's response was interrupted by a commotion in the hallway; cries and screams and gasps spread through the ship, the Statue of Liberty loomed on the horizon! America was in sight!
"What a sight, eh, Jack?" Oliver grinned, thumping Jack on the back.
"She is a thing of beauty," he replied, laughing at his friend's delight. "Do you ever wonder *oomph*" Whatever Jack's question was going to be it was to remain unasked, cut off after being plowed into and hugged by Mabel.
"We're here! We're here!" she yelled as the rest of the family swarmed the men in excitement.
The next few hours were a flurry of activity as the ship maneuvered into the harbor while the anxious passengers gathered their things together. Oliver was already a naturalized American citizen so he wouldn't have to go through the registry room in the immigration depot. "I'll be waiting at the kissing post by the ferry to Manhattan," he told his family, kissing each of the children one by one. He knew how long and tedious the process ahead of them would be. "Not much longer until you see your new home." Then he swept Evelyn into a long embrace. Looking over her head at Jack he sighed. "Watch over her for me Jack."
"Like she was my own," was the uncharacteristically sincere reply.
The American citizens departed the boat first. The children, all dressed in their Sunday best, solemnly waved as their father descended the plank. When the time came for the other passengers to head in for processing Evelyn straighten her beautiful brooch, pinned her hat on a her head and led her family into the immigration station. They had no problem passing the physical examination, the brisk walk up a massive set of stairs up to the Great Hall. That room was huge, with a high vaulted ceiling and a dozen narrow isles divided by iron bars. The din was incredible as numerous languages mingled with the general confusion and chaos.
Evelyn noticed the whisper of a smile on Jack's face. "Jack?"
"This reminds me of a street market in...err.... Marakesh that I used to haunt in the old days..." he trailed off, sighing.
Just then a hand snaked through the isle grabbing Evelyn's brooch, ripping it off. Evelyn cried out and Jack spun around, looking for the thief in the crowd and quickly spotted a sandy haired head weaving quickly away from them. "Don't worry, I'll get it back!" he shouted over his shoulder while taking off in pursuit. He practically flew back down the stairs whooping with delight. With a flying tackle Jack took the thief down. The two men were barely aware of Evelyn's shouts of "Thief!" and "Police!" from the top of the stairs as they traded blows.
The brief fight ended when Jack delivered a strong blow to the solar plexus and the pickpocket collapsed in a heap. "Take that!" Jack shouted, rummaging in the other man's pockets. He'd spun around, fist held high, about to cry out in triumph when he saw Evelyn's eyes go wide. A sudden gunshot echoed through the room. Pain tore through Jack as he saw the hole in his shirt and the red stain spreading quickly across his chest. He sank to his feet, not noticing the policemen as they swarmed forward, grabbing and shackling the other man, and unaware of the shouts for a doctor. Then Evelyn was there, her face bending over him with a look of concern and sadness he could scarcely believe and couldn't comprehend.
"All those years," he gasped. "To have it end like this...." And with one last sigh and a soft shudder Jack Harkness died in Evelyn's arms, the brooch spilling out of his hand onto the cool marble floor.
And then he woke up.
And nothing was same ever again after that. Nothing.
Author's Note#2: Read more about Evelyn Smith in The Laugh Of A Dead Man
The RMS Etruria was an amazing ship. It offered ornate first class rooms, separate dining for the first class passengers, a music room, a gentleman's smoking room and even the unheard of luxury of refrigeration machinery, but what amazed most people was that it was capable of traveling at a stunning 19 knots. That's what most the passengers discussed while strolling on the promenade the first day on board. Standing alone, perhaps unaffected by the ship's majesty, a tall gentleman leaned haphazardly against the rail watching with tired detachment.
However even he couldn't help smiling at the incredible awe in the voice of one young lass as she exclaimed to her mother, "It's so fast!"
"Only six days to cross the Atlantic," the mother replied.
Then, noticing the lonely man with the wistful smile she said to him, "Incredible, isn't it? Who would have ever thought we could travel this fast!"
He smiled at her innocence, and her amazement. His old eyes seemed to twinkle with some secret amusement.
"Absolutely unbelievable," he said with complete sincerity. "James Harkness." He held out his hand.
"Evelyn Smith. Pleased to meet you," she replied, offering her own hand in response, and blushed when Jack brought it to his lips for a kiss.
"Mrs. Smith. And who is this?" he asked, bending down and as he offered the child a firm handshake and a dazzling smile.
"Mabel," the little one responded, "Pleased to me you Mr. Har.... umm... Mr. Har...." she trailed off.
"Oh, just call me Jack, everyone else does. Are you traveling with your Mum to New York?"
"With Mummy and Daddy and Evie and Martin. I'm six. How old are you?" Her mother laughed, to cover the embarrassment of such a personal question.
"A lot older than I look," he replied, winking at her.
"I'm so sorry," Evelyn said. "Mabel, that was terribly rude. Please apologize to the gentleman..."
Jack cut her off. "No, no, no. Don't worry about it." He went down on one knee to look Mabel straight in the eye. "Never be afraid to ask a question. You may not get the answer you want, or even one you can use, but, at least you tried!" And then he laughed, an open and inviting laugh that Mabel and Evelyn couldn't help but being caught up in.
They invited him to dine with them that evening and he enthralled the children with his supposedly true, yet highly improbable, adventures in faraway lands. And after sending the children to bed Evelyn and Oliver spent hours amicably chatting with their new friend. He listened intently as Oliver explained about the world of the printing business and the press he ran in Manhattan and marveled with them over the technology of the day and just what man seems capable of accomplishing.
The Smith family spent much of the voyage in the comfortable presence of Jack Harkness. When alone with him they each found themselves reveling in his attention and spilling their secrets to him; Oliver was nervous that Evelyn wouldn't be happy in the home he'd bought for them in New York while Emily secretly feared that Oliver would miss the freedom he'd had while his family was still in England. Even the children confided in him, Evie would miss her friends, Martin the food, perhaps Mabel was the only one at ease with the turmoil; she still had her doll, and that's all that mattered to her.
Oliver thoroughly enjoyed the discussions he had with Jack in the smoking room. They'd gotten in the habit of retiring there for a post-meal cigar to "solve the world's problems," as Evelyn so aptly phrased it once.
"Seriously Jack, you need to think of the future! Like I'm always telling Evelyn, the 20th century is just around the corner! This is going to be the century when everything changes and you have to be ready!" Oliver sighed as his companion simply responded with a rakish, abet humoring, smile. "Honestly, Jack, you are the most short sighted man I have ever met, don't you think about the future? Plan for it?"
Jack's response was interrupted by a commotion in the hallway; cries and screams and gasps spread through the ship, the Statue of Liberty loomed on the horizon! America was in sight!
"What a sight, eh, Jack?" Oliver grinned, thumping Jack on the back.
"She is a thing of beauty," he replied, laughing at his friend's delight. "Do you ever wonder *oomph*" Whatever Jack's question was going to be it was to remain unasked, cut off after being plowed into and hugged by Mabel.
"We're here! We're here!" she yelled as the rest of the family swarmed the men in excitement.
The next few hours were a flurry of activity as the ship maneuvered into the harbor while the anxious passengers gathered their things together. Oliver was already a naturalized American citizen so he wouldn't have to go through the registry room in the immigration depot. "I'll be waiting at the kissing post by the ferry to Manhattan," he told his family, kissing each of the children one by one. He knew how long and tedious the process ahead of them would be. "Not much longer until you see your new home." Then he swept Evelyn into a long embrace. Looking over her head at Jack he sighed. "Watch over her for me Jack."
"Like she was my own," was the uncharacteristically sincere reply.
The American citizens departed the boat first. The children, all dressed in their Sunday best, solemnly waved as their father descended the plank. When the time came for the other passengers to head in for processing Evelyn straighten her beautiful brooch, pinned her hat on a her head and led her family into the immigration station. They had no problem passing the physical examination, the brisk walk up a massive set of stairs up to the Great Hall. That room was huge, with a high vaulted ceiling and a dozen narrow isles divided by iron bars. The din was incredible as numerous languages mingled with the general confusion and chaos.
Evelyn noticed the whisper of a smile on Jack's face. "Jack?"
"This reminds me of a street market in...err.... Marakesh that I used to haunt in the old days..." he trailed off, sighing.
Just then a hand snaked through the isle grabbing Evelyn's brooch, ripping it off. Evelyn cried out and Jack spun around, looking for the thief in the crowd and quickly spotted a sandy haired head weaving quickly away from them. "Don't worry, I'll get it back!" he shouted over his shoulder while taking off in pursuit. He practically flew back down the stairs whooping with delight. With a flying tackle Jack took the thief down. The two men were barely aware of Evelyn's shouts of "Thief!" and "Police!" from the top of the stairs as they traded blows.
The brief fight ended when Jack delivered a strong blow to the solar plexus and the pickpocket collapsed in a heap. "Take that!" Jack shouted, rummaging in the other man's pockets. He'd spun around, fist held high, about to cry out in triumph when he saw Evelyn's eyes go wide. A sudden gunshot echoed through the room. Pain tore through Jack as he saw the hole in his shirt and the red stain spreading quickly across his chest. He sank to his feet, not noticing the policemen as they swarmed forward, grabbing and shackling the other man, and unaware of the shouts for a doctor. Then Evelyn was there, her face bending over him with a look of concern and sadness he could scarcely believe and couldn't comprehend.
"All those years," he gasped. "To have it end like this...." And with one last sigh and a soft shudder Jack Harkness died in Evelyn's arms, the brooch spilling out of his hand onto the cool marble floor.
And then he woke up.
And nothing was same ever again after that. Nothing.
Author's Note#2: Read more about Evelyn Smith in The Laugh Of A Dead Man
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It's great :)
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Very nicely done.
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