A/N: To those of you following my The 100 story: I know, I know. More DW fics despite the fact that I haven't touched TLOKKS in months. What can I say? My muse is fickle. (Although, thanks to my excitement at seeing the promo for season 3, I think I've managed to override her capriciousness; chapter 13 is almost done.)

To the rest of you - you lovely Whovians, you - hello! I've been inspired by all of the posts on FB and Tumblr that talk about how amazing it would be if there were a spin-off series called Immortals featuring Me, Clara, and Captain Jack. This is my take on it - I have no idea whether I will continue the story or not beyond the two chapters I have in mind, but we'll see where this goes XD

The bar featured in this chapter - the Zaggit Zagoo - is from "The End of Time: Part 2", and it's where the Doctor leaves a note for Captain Jack to set him up with Alonso.

I hope you enjoy it. Please let me know your thoughts if you can spare a moment :)

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Clara and Me burst through the space-diner doors of their TARDIS, Me with one arm slung over Clara's shoulder, laughing hysterically. The two made their way with some difficulty into the console room, as Me was partially hunched over and the force of her laughter impeded any kind of straightforward movement. Despite the ache in her stomach and the overwhelming mirth clouding her thoughts, though, Me managed a raised snap of her fingers and the TARDIS doors swung shut with a satisfying thud-click. Immediately, her hand lowered to grip the console and she braced herself against the wracking of her chest, one arm wrapped around her stomach as her abdominal muscles screamed in protest of their prolonged overuse.

She heard footsteps pattering around the metallic floor of the TARDIS and a few moments later, a gentle hand touched her shoulder. Me managed to twist her body around and looked up to see Clara, clad in her red waitress uniform (she'd had them made in several different colours as promised), standing in front of her with an oxygen mask. She tried to raise a shaking hand but Clara gave her a look that said, "Don't be stupid," slid the mask onto Me's face herself, and carefully brought the elastic band around the top of her head to secure it there so Me wouldn't have to bother holding it.

Through her heaving laughter, Me took great, gasping breaths, and slowly but surely, her belly laughs and guffaws became giggles, and the giggles became few and far between.

"Thank goodness," said Clara. "I do enjoy your laugh, but that was just disturbing." Beneath her flirtatious, teasing tone, though, there was a lingering hint of concern and a good deal of relief.

Hiccoughing slightly, Me got out a breathy, "No kidding." She kicked the console lightly as she took a moment to recover. "Not what I meant when I said I needed a laugh, Woman," she muttered.

The TARDIS wheezed in protest, but Clara could feel the amusement radiating from the vessel and chuckled softly. "Not the most creative prank ever, you know," Clara told the TARDIS. "We have laughing gas on Earth." The TARDIS whirred indignantly. "Oh, take a joke, Woman," Clara teased, patting the console soothingly. "Woman" had become Clara and Me's nickname for their TARDIS, in lieu of the Doctor's "Sexy". When they'd discussed it together, she (the TARDIS) - using Jane Austen's appearance as a voice interface, no less (that had led to an interesting conversation) - had said she liked the idea of being "just one of the girls", and so "Woman" had stuck.

Me, finally back to normal, smiled wryly and said, "I don't know, Clara; she certainly got me good. It's not her fault that you don't need to breathe."

Clara laughed. "Timelooped girl for the win," she crowed, and Me began to laugh with her but ended up groaning in pain instead. Clara's brow furrowed and she wrapped an arm lightly around her travelling companion's waist. "Do you need to rest for a bit?" she asked, concerned.

"No, I don't think so," Me replied, smiling gratefully. "It's just taking a bit longer than usual for the muscles to repair. Give me a couple more minutes and I'll be brand new." Clara snorted at that and Me's grin widened. She gave Clara a quick peck on the cheek and young woman blushed but returned the grin with her own happy smile.

"So, where to?" Clara posed, letting Me go and scurrying around the console to pull a few levers and push a few buttons. She pulled the master switch and the TARDIS dematerialized into the Vortex.

"Hmm," Me hummed absently before her eyes lit up in inspiration. "I don't know about you, but I think I want to do some dancing."

"Ooh," Clara exclaimed, "Now there's any idea!" She bit her lip and thought for a moment, and then perked up suddenly. "I think I know a place we could go. The - " pain flashed briefly on her face, but she set her shoulders determinedly and plowed through, "The Doctor once mentioned this spot called the Zaggit Zagoo bar on a planet called Zog. It sounded like really good fun, and there was definitely dancing."

"Well, after all of that, I wouldn't mind a drink," Me said with a smile.

"Let's go."

*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*

After handing a few Zagooian credits to the bouncer at the door, Clara and Me slipped hand-in-hand into the bar and took a moment to absorb their surroundings. The walls of the room were a deep, fluorescent blue and were lined here and there with red neon lights, whose rays glinted off of the glasses lined up on the shelves above the bar. One wall featured a large screen displaying lines of triangular blue and green figures of which neither Clara nor Me knew the significance, but in front of the screen was a dance floor, where a number of couples and assorted groups were partying away. Clara spotted some interesting, unfamiliar movements and made a mental note to learn some new moves while they were there.

The place was nicely busy - not packed to the point of being stifling, but still bustling with people of all kinds of different species - and upbeat jazz music floated happily through the room.

"It's perfect," said Me, and Clara smiled.

"I think so, too," she replied. "Do you want to get a drink before we join them?" She gestured towards the dance floor.

"Yes, please," Me said, and with a flourish of her free arm, motioned for Clara to lead on. They weaved their way over to the bar counter and perched themselves on metallic stools, both of them short enough that their feet dangled above the footrests. They looked over the cocktail menu together and after an enthusiastic exchange with the bartender, ordered a pair of drinks called "Helix Hearts" that reportedly took about ten minutes to make, but that he assured them would be worth the wait.

While he made their drinks, the two women chatted quietly with one another and let their eyes roam the room, recognizing some species and wondering about others. This continued for a couple of minutes until they were interrupted by a pleasant voice with a decidedly American accent.

"Well, hey there."

Clara and Me turned their heads to find the source of the greeting. Their gazes found a tall, brunette man with striking blue eyes and a charming grin who was leaning against the counter a couple of vacant seats over. Clara couldn't help her stare from raking over his body. He was wearing a military-looking, navy blue greatcoat, a baby-blue collared shirt tucked in neatly at the waist, black utilitarian trousers, and a pair of worn, lace-up work boots.

She exchanged a glance with Me, whose eyes said the exact same thing as her own: Who on Earth is that gorgeous man?

Clara looked back over at the mystery man and was met immediately by those blue eyes. His grin had taken on a bit of a smirk-like quality, and his expression was entirely knowing. Clara's breath hitched instinctively, and her cheeks flushed briefly before the timeloop reset her complexion, a fleeting tell of her chagrin for having so blatantly ogled him. Still, she didn't look away - in fact, she smiled warmly, and seeming to take that as a good sign, the beautiful stranger approached the bar stools where Me and Clara were sat.

He stopped right in front of them between the two stools, so that their backs were to the bar and they were facing the dance floor. He extended both hands, and Clara and Me each took one. The man squeezed them in a manner that was both firm and gentle and instead of letting go, opted to introduce himself.

"Captain Jack Harkness. And who might you ladies be?"