Partners in Heroism

 Officer Lance stood sentinel as the vigilante known as the Arrow questioned the man back from the dead. Malcolm Merlyn had died at the Arrow's hand and yet was apparently sitting in front of him, zip tied to a steel chair. But either Malcolm brain had gotten scrambled when he was brought back from the dead or this guy was just a dead-ringer for him. Suddenly the hooded man pulled himself back.

“Let's try a different approach: what IS your name?”

“I call myself Jack Harkness. It's been my name for as long as I can remember.”

“Well, fair enough. But where are you from?”

“Cardiff, Wales, and a lot longer ago than I'd care to remember. And is there a particular reason you all the sudden believe I'm not this Malcolm Merlin person you took me for.”

“Try to shoot an arrow, you wouldn't split mine would you?”

“Uh, probably not if you're as good an archer as the original 'hooded man'. And forgive me but that doesn't answer my question.”

“Answering this next question will settle the answer: What is a good nick name for me, or call-sign if you prefer?”

“I'd just call you the hooded man, after Robin Hood. But I imagine that would get pretty damn old after a while. Why, what do they call you?”

“I call him 'the Arrow'.” Quentin Lance offered lightheartedly.

“I guess that works.” Jack said simply. “But why...”

“Malcolm Merlyn was a Dark Archer, he literally called himself that. He told me I should call myself the Green Arrow...I mean he suggested that name for the vigilante once, not knowing I was listening. Believe me, if you'd been the man we thought, you would have come up with the same answer.”

“I take it the guy is very much dead?”

“I kinda was the one who killed him, so yeah.”

“Jack, are you an officer?” Quentin asked suddenly.

“Uh, I served in the British Army for a while. I call myself a 'Captain'...Lieutenant was the highest rank I ever actually achieved.”

“Lieu-tenant?” Lance prompted.

“Not everyone in the British Isles pronounces the RANK that way. The term 'lefftenant' was originally a person's 'left hand man', most trusted assistant. Referring to being an 'aide-de-camp' I'd call myself that. Not as a rank and position in the army.”

“Yeah, I actually know all that.” Quentin Lance said smiling. “I was just wondering if you did. Ten pounds six-shillings and all of that.”

“Dang, you know you're history!” Jack said laughing.

“Any time you feel like looping me in.” The Arrow said, obviously miffed.

“Here in the states it's a common misconception that British officers pronounce the word 'Lieutenant' as 'lefftenant' no matter the application. We only pronounce it that way when using it properly. At least, around Suffolk. 'Ar-kansas' for the state and 'arkan-saw' for the river type stuff. It's a famous World War II story that a couple German spies, were arrested because they didn't know the British monetary system, which was pretty damn confusing to foreigners...”

“The ticket agent asked for 'ten and six' meaning ten shillings and sixpence. The soldier dolled out ten *pounds and six *shillings, completely without hesitation. Literally the rest of Europe thinks they know...and since that day the Brits laugh at the presumption.”

“I really need to stop under-estimating you Detective.” The Arrow said grimly.

“It's officer now.” Quentin Lance said automatically.

“Not to me, and not to Ms. Smoak.” The man said definitively.

“Listen, I don't want to be a jerk but...can I get out of this now?” Jack Harkness pressed.

As the vigilante bent down to cut the zip-ties he whispered into the man's ear. “And Malcolm Merlyn knows who I really am, you don't recognize me.”

“I figured as much.” Captain Jack whispered back. Standing up he shook life back into his hands. “How long exactly have you two been collaborators?” He asked looking between the cop and the hooded man. “I mean, this seems like a pretty new partnership, one I do NOT want to get between.”

“You're free to go if that's what you're asking.” Oliver Queen said from underneath his hood.

“To quote a friend of mine, but with FULL sincerity: Be empowered and direct your own path!”

Captain Jack Harkness walked out of the bunker underneath the nightclub, Verdant. He couldn't help thinking either fate or the Doctor must have had a sense of irony. He'd shown up in Starling City just for a drink and an escape. Promptly been tranq'd and woke up interrogated by the city's defenders. In whom he'd found a pair of crime-fighters who pushed past their history and listened to their hearts. But also didn't have any problem accepting the impossible when confronted with the impossible. Being a time traveler from the future and former captain of all tht remained of Torchwood, he knew how rare that was. And how lucky he was to have been found by such folks.

(Later that evening at the bunker)

“The Arrow. You're the one who called me that.”

“Uh yeah, I've been calling you that for a while.”

“No I mean, you coined the name...I have to say I approve.”

“What are we...you...making jokes now?”

“It's a lot easier for me to be off my guard when you're not pointing a gun at me." Quentin Lance gave a 'good point' nod. "And I really do like the name; it's apropos and straight to the point...like me.”