FIC: Notorious (Part I of II)
Title: Notorious
Author: blue_fjords
Rating: R
Characters: Ianto, Jack, Gwen, OFC, OMCs, cameos by Rhys, Andy, Martha
Pairings: Jack/Ianto, Ianto/OFC
Word length: 12,000
Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Torchwood or Notorious.
Summary: An homage to Alfred Hitchcock’s Notorious, 1940s melodrama/suspense. Ianto goes undercover. Jack reacts.
A/N: This fic was suggested over in the TWU plot bunny thread by rexluscus, and encouraged by kel_reiley. Thanks to them both for letting me adopt said plot bunny and then beta-ing. One last note, I am going away for three days, entirely internet-free. So if you leave a comment about a glaring typo three-quarters of the way down the page, I shall not be able to fix until I return to Internet-land. But then I shall!
“Move just a little to the left . . . a little more . . . perfect!” Jack snapped three photos in quick succession. “Okay, could you shift, just a bit?” Ianto rolled his eyes, but leaned to the right and tightened his grip on a rung. “Good, that’s good.” Jack shot him a grin and took two more photos. “I think that’s done it, then.”
“Brilliant. Now we come to the difficult part: getting down.” Ianto glanced over his shoulder and shuddered at the string of warehouses much too far below them.
“Well, maybe we should wait. For you to get comfortable,” Jack suggested, pulling Ianto even closer on his lap and adjusting his grip on Ianto’s thigh and lower back.
“Jack. We are clinging to a dilapidated fire escape above a den of smugglers. There’s no comfortable in this.”
Jack arched his neck to kiss him. “Supposed smugglers,” he murmured against Ianto’s mouth. “Let’s not jump to conclusions.”
Against his better judgment, Ianto kissed him back. Jack grinned against his mouth, and parted his lips for him. A door banged open down below, and Ianto almost lost his hold on the fire escape.
“I got you, I got you!” Jack whispered, pressing Ianto against him.
“Camera, Jack,” Ianto whispered back, catching his breath.
“Yeah. . .” Jack breathed, tugging at the camera around his neck with one hand and gripping Ianto’s waist with the other, relying on Ianto to keep them in place. Snap. Jack juggled the camera between their bodies to adjust the focus. Snap.
A woman had stepped out of one of the warehouses, face lit up briefly by her lighter. The smoke from her cigarette hung above her head for a moment, then dissipated in the wind off the bay, leaving Jack a clear view. Mid- to late-thirties, attractive, possibly Greek. Her dark hair was coiled in a bun at the nape of her neck and little tendrils escaped around her face, giving her a windswept, romantic look. Jack made note of full breasts and rather wide hips before she turned at a noise from inside the warehouse, flicked her cigarette, and walked back in. The sound of a heavy bolt dropping into place carried up to their perch.
Jack looked at Ianto. “So . . . where were we?”
Ianto rolled his eyes yet again. “Going back to the Hub. Which has nice, solid footing.”
Jack grinned and helped him climb down. “Come on, Ianto! Clinging to a ladder with a dashing captain wrapped around you - wasn’t that at least slightly romantic?” He had a feeling he should be grateful that the wind carried away Ianto’s response.
***
“Well, we can cross out ‘supposed’ and go right to ‘definite’ smugglers.” Ianto straightened up from where he’d been hunched over examining the photos with a complicated-looking set of alien tech goggles. “Look.”
Jack leaned around him and snagged the goggles, adjusting the eyepiece on the tech. “Wow, bright purple. I would say these pieces,” and he jabbed at the air, forgetting that he was the only one who could see the virtual display, “are 3rd Century Deluvian - very rare. And these over here,” he continued, as Gwen turned in her stool to watch and exchanged a grin with Ianto, while Jack pointed out the coat rack, “are definitely 44th Century Glavid - quite dangerous, in fact.”
Gwen giggled.
“Are we now laughing in the face of danger, Gwen?” Jack asked, pulling off the goggles.
She shook her head. “No, just in the face of Jack looking ridiculous.” He flashed her a charming grin and twirled the goggles around his finger as the facial recognition program she’d been running on her computer dinged, and she turned back to the monitor.
“Alexandra Sebastian,” Gwen announced triumphantly.
“That our smuggler?” Jack asked, coming up behind her workstation.
“Antiques dealer, if you please,” Gwen answered with her best hoity-toity inflection. “Age 37, no criminal background, renting a house in Cardiff by the month and owns a villa in Tuscany.”
“Rather posh,” Ianto commented, joining them. Alexandra Sebastian sported an impressive collection of jewels, smiling a Mona Lisa smile in her file photo.
“And into all sorts of charities,” Gwen added. There was quite a collection of photos, all in a different fashionable dress, all with a different younger man on her arm.
“Does she have an office address?” Jack asked, checking out the photos. “She’s got good taste in men, at any rate.”
Ianto huffed a laugh as Gwen punched a few more keys. “No, no office. She’s conducting her business from her house; the business is leasing that warehouse you found this morning - not regulated for office space.”
“We need to figure out how she’s getting her hands on alien tech,” Jack said, frowning at Alexandra Sebastian’s frozen image.
“And her client list,” Ianto added.
“And her hairdresser,” Gwen chimed in. She blinked as the others turned to look at her, Jack amused and Ianto bemused. “Fine then. And her business partners.”
Jack turned back to the monitor. “You know what I’m thinking?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “I’m thinking there’s a charity function coming up at the Castle this very evening.”
“You planning to go and seduce the info out of Sebastian?” Gwen asked, throwing a quick glance at Ianto, who just looked calmly back at Jack.
“Nah, doesn’t look like I’m her type,” Jack replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “But I have someone else in mind.”
“Someone else?” Ianto asked with a raised eyebrow. Jack grinned at him. “Oh, no. I don’t like a gentleman who grins at me.”
Jack just grinned wider. “Come on, Ianto, brush off your tux and choose your most charming smile. It’s time to practice your seduction skills. You’re getting rusty.”
***
Ianto adjusted his earpiece, fiddled with the microphone and camera in his bowtie, and picked a nonexistent piece of lint off his jacket.
“You look very handsome,” Gwen said, coming up behind him.
“Cheers,” he muttered, focusing on his cuff links.
“Here, let me help.” She took his right wrist in her hands and fixed the small piece of jewelry in place. “Ianto?” She asked, picking up his other wrist and fastening the cuff link. “Are you okay with this?”
“They’re Jack’s cuff links,” he answered quickly. “I would have gone with something simpler, but he thought the flash might work tonight.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Gwen said softly.
He sighed. “Gwen, it’s just a job. Like any other.” She gave him a skeptical look, and he grimaced. “You didn’t object earlier.”
“It’s not really my business, is it? Oh, don’t laugh at me; I can give you some boundaries!” she said crossly, swatting his arm. “I want us to get the information and stop the big bad smuggler, yes, obviously. But surely there are other ways we could go about doing this!”
He smoothed his face at Gwen’s distress, and answered as gently as possible, “We need first-hand information, and some of those pieces are dangerous. This calls for a delicate touch.”
Gwen shrugged her shoulders irritably. “Okay, okay, if you’re both fine with this, then I can’t object.”
Jack came clattering down the walkway and into the Hub proper. “Ready, gang? Ianto -” he caught sight of them and cut off abruptly, giving a low whistle. Ianto could feel himself preening under Jack’s admiring look. It took a conscious effort to roll his eyes. Jack sauntered over, hands in pockets. “So! I’m not from these here parts; tell me - are all Welshmen as gorgeous as you or did I just get lucky?”
“You got very lucky,” Ianto answered dryly.
“I did! But am I going to get lu -”
“Ahem!” Gwen interrupted, with a slight smile. “I believe we need to get going?”
Jack nodded to her and offered Ianto his arm. “Come, Ianto! Your chariot awaits!”
***
Jack pulled the SUV up to Cardiff Castle, and Ianto took a deep breath before opening the door. Jack caught at his elbow. “Hey - we’ll be with you every step of the way, okay?”
Ianto nodded and seized the door handle, but turned and kissed Jack on the lips quickly before getting out of the vehicle. Gwen looked down at the PDA, smiling.
Jack drove to an abandoned car park and killed the engine. Gwen pulled up visuals and the two of them leaned together, watching as Ianto entered the Castle.
Ianto paused at the stairs, turning his body slightly to take in as much of the room as possible. He did not see Alexandra Sebastian yet. He snagged a flute of champagne from a passing waiter and began to circulate, an aloof expression like a mask over his face. Little clusters of men in tuxes and women in cocktail dresses dotted the ballroom. The main topic of conversation was an event that had happened at the Cardiff Riding Club last week. Ianto heard no one discussing the charity, and he had to glance up at the banner above the entrance to the Castle to remind himself what they were here for: Society for the Protection of Cephalopods.
He wandered out to the garden, and there he found Alexandra Sebastian. She was standing in a pool of light, and he had little doubt that she had chosen that strategic positioning on purpose. A string quartet was set up in one corner of the garden, and started up a slow waltz as Ianto grabbed an additional flute of champagne and made his way across to Ms. Sebastian. The evil smuggler, he reminded himself.
She glanced up from her conversation with a sweating little man and favored him with a slow smile. “I was just telling Emile here how very thirsty I was. Could you possibly be intending to share that with me?” Her voice was flavored with a slight continental European accent.
Ianto nodded pleasantly to her. “Of course, Madame.”
She raised a delicately arched brow at him and took the flute, sipping daintily. Ianto was fairly certain it was an act. Alexandra Sebastian looked like she could throw back her liquor.
“This castle is quite lovely, though I imagine it would be extremely hard to heat in the winter, what with all of the concealed nooks and crannies,” she said.
How subtle, Jack’s voice sounded in his ear. “It is, at that. Still, we wouldn’t want our Castle any other way, I’m sure. Ianto Jones,” he proffered his hand. “I’m with the Welsh Tourism Board.”
She laughed a little tinkly laugh and took his hand. “Alexandra Sebastian. I dabble in antiques - restoration, procurement, that sort of thing.” Her hand was soft but her grip was hard.
“Emile Hupka. I’m in Antiques, too. Their, er, eventual placement,” the sweaty little man piped up. Ianto blinked down at him, but released Ms. Sebastian’s hand to shake Emile’s.
“So, Mr. Jones, does the Welsh Tourism Board offer personalized tours of Cardiff?”
Jack chuckled in his ear, and Ianto smiled. “Is there a part of Cardiff you are particularly interested in, Ms. Sebastian?”
She laid her hand on his forearm. “Please. Call me Alexandra.” She did not withdraw her hand as she continued talking. This close, her perfume was almost overwhelming. “-and the Plass, when was that built?”
Belatedly, Ianto realized she had stopped talking. He opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the appearance of another man.
“Jones? Ianto Jones?”
Ianto froze. Damn, who’s that? Jack echoed his own thoughts. Ianto turned to the voice.
“It is you! What a small world, isn’t it just?”
Ianto’s heart thudded in his chest as painful memories rose up. He squashed them ruthlessly down. “Mathis. How nice to see you again. What are you doing in Cardiff?”
Mathis gave him a small, mean smile as Alexandra and Emile looked back and forth between them. “Antiques.”
Ianto, is that man former Torchwood One? Jack hissed in his ear.
“Yes. Antiques. Are you all business partners then?” Ianto started to sweat, and consciously evened his breathing. Jack was swearing in his ear, and he could hear Gwen punching keys in the background.
“Eric has quite the eye for antiques,” Alexandra interrupted, drawing attention back to herself. “However do the two of you know each other? I don’t recall you mentioning an old friend in Cardiff, Eric.” There was an added bite to that last sentence, and Ianto vowed to examine it further, if he got out of this.
“I did not know he had transferred to Cardiff!” Mathis protested. “We worked together several years ago, but you know how it goes, people lose touch.”
“And I am no longer in antiques,” Ianto supplied. “I am quite happy with the tourism industry.”
Mathis gave him an assessing look. Ianto seriously doubted that he believed that for one second, but Alexandra visibly brightened. “Then you would be able to give me a private tour of Cardiff, yes?”
Good thing she’s horny, Jack murmured in his ear.
Ianto turned his most charming smile on her. “I would be delighted.”
“I’m sure,” Mathis muttered under his breath. “Come, Emile,” he continued, turning to the round little man. “I want to talk to you about some of your distribution ideas.” Emile started visibly, but allowed the taller man to steer him forcibly over towards another corridor.
“You must forgive Eric,” Alexandra said, frowning after their retreating backs. “He is intimidated by someone with your qualities.”
Ianto paused, taking a sip of his champagne. “My qualities?”
“Don’t be coy, Ianto darling.” She ran a finger over the chest of his jacket. “And pick me up tomorrow morning at 10.”
“Til tomorrow, then,” he agreed, tipped her chin up to him with one finger, and kissed her rather stridently on the lips. He could feel her burning eyes on his back as he left.
Jack and Gwen were pulling up as he exited Cardiff Castle. “Well. Did you have a good time?” Jack asked lightly as Ianto climbed into the SUV. “Where will you be taking the lovely Alexandra on your morning date?”
Gwen stared at him. “Are you crazy, Jack? He can’t see her again; Mathis was Torchwood One! We have to break contact.”
“Gwen, this just confirms that they’re more heavily invested than we thought!” Jack retorted. “How many former Torchwood One operatives are masquerading as antiques dealers and dispensing alien technology throughout Wales? The world?”
“Ianto could be in danger!”
“Ianto is always in danger!”
“And Ianto has an opinion,” Ianto cut in testily. They both snapped their mouths shut. He cleared his throat. “Mathis obviously thinks that I’m still involved in Torchwood to some degree. If I break off contact, he’ll use all his resources to track us down, and we don’t want that. I just have to convince him that I’ve left it behind. So when you drop me off at my flat, no more contact. If they have a smugglers’ meeting or some such, I’ll put in an earpiece, but other than that, just find me once a day and I’ll pass on what I’ve learned on a chip or something. Use Rhys and Andy as well.”
He paused for breath. Gwen looked stubborn, but Jack was smiling to himself.
“Look, there is definitely a tension between Alexandra and Mathis. I’ll play that up. They’ll be so busy trying to keep an eye on each other, they won’t notice what I’m doing.”
Gwen nodded grudgingly. “You are good at playing people.” She didn’t seem to notice Jack’s sudden frown. “Right then, we should have a code word or something in case we need to do an extraction.”
Jack snorted. “How about ‘maple’?”
Ianto could feel his cheeks heat. “An extraction phrase, not a safe word. How about a sentence that includes the word ‘Christmas’?”
Gwen nodded as they pulled up in front of Ianto’s building. “Be careful, Ianto love,” she said seriously, and Ianto allowed himself to be hugged awkwardly from the front seat to the back.
“Show her a good time,” Jack said, but then leaned into the back and pulled Ianto into a sloppy kiss that went on and on. Ianto could feel a slight tremor of anxiety through the kiss, and he attempted to set him at ease with his tongue and teeth and lips. When they finally pulled away, Gwen was staring studiously out the window, a dreamy little smile on her face.
“I’ll be in touch,” he said, and hopped out of the SUV before he could change his mind and go back to the Hub.
***
Ianto drove to Alexandra’s house the next morning, arriving at 9:58. He was dressed more casually than usual. He had put a good deal of thought into what Ianto Jones, member of Cardiff’s tourism industry and mid-twenties man hoping to charm an older, successful businesswoman, would wear to conduct a tour of Cardiff’s tourist attractions. He settled on denims, not too tight but not shapeless, a dark purple button-down, and black blazer. It felt odd to ditch the tie, his fingers automatically lifting to tug on the tie to soothe his nerves. He checked his hair in the rearview mirror, took a deep breath, and marched up to the front door.
Alexandra opened the door before he had even hit the buzzer. “You found me!” she exclaimed with a throaty chuckle. Her dark eyes roamed over his body, and he could tell he had chosen correctly.
“Your antiques company has developed quite a prestigious reputation, Alexandra. It was not difficult to find you.”
She laughed again, that strange tinkly but throaty purr. “Do come in; I have to get my coat.”
Ianto followed her into a large foyer. He looked around surreptitiously while she crossed to a wardrobe and picked through several coats. There was nothing in the foyer that could really help them. A large staircase curved around and led the way up to the second floor. All of the doors were closed on that floor. To the left of the foyer was a finely appointed sitting room, perhaps leading back into her official offices. The door on the right of the foyer was closed. The only things, other than the wardrobe, in the marble foyer were a large mirror in an ornate frame and a finely carved wooden bench underneath the mirror. Alexandra finally selected her coat, and Ianto helped her into it before offering her his arm as they left the house.
He took her to some of the lesser known sights in Cardiff, a rich lunch at a French restaurant, tea at a little shop overlooking the bay (where Ianto caught sight of PC Andy out of the corner of his eye, and shook his head), winding up on the Plass. Alexandra was a fan of Roald Dahl, and grilled him about the construction of the plaza area. She stood very close to him in the wind, and he imagined Jack watching from the CCTV cameras, directly beneath them.
They talked nothing of antiques or Mathis all day, and Alexandra began to smile wider, her fingers lingering longer on his arm, occasionally touching his hair and rubbing an errant lock between her fingertips. Nightfall found them back at her house, and he was unsurprised when she invited him inside and up to the second floor.
Ianto hadn’t had sex with a woman since Lisa, he realized with a slight shock. And he’d been exclusively with Jack for over a year, almost by accident. Alexandra was nothing like either of them. She was bossy and greedy, and her eyes were filled with lust, not coupled with any affectionate glow. Her body was soft and pampered, her curly hair snarling in his hands and her long fingernails scraping along his back. Her nightstand sported an impressive collection of condoms, and they went through three before she finally fell asleep, a contented smile on her face.
Ianto watched her sleep, the moonlight bleaching out the already miniscule lines on her face and contrasting starkly with her dark hair. He was fairly sure he had sufficiently hid the fact that he hadn’t had a very good time. There was just no comparison to Jack. Jack was full of contradictions, demanding and generous, rough and tender, strong fingers and soft kisses. And ever since the night he returned from traveling with the Doctor, Ianto had felt like he had his full attention each time they’d fucked, each time they’d even kissed. That was one of the amazing things about Jack. Alexandra didn’t have it. Ianto had grown used to not being taken for granted; it would take some adjustment to slide back into that frame of mind.
Alexandra was already up and out of bed when he awoke the next morning. He could hear voices out in the hall, and he leaned his head back against the pillows with a groan. Mathis, most definitely. He rolled out of bed and locked himself into the bathroom. A perusal of Alexandra’s medicine cabinet revealed her to have no allergies strong enough for medicine, but the occasional migraine headache. There were no other medicines for any chronic diseases. He took a quick shower, using her expensive shampoo and soaps, and tied a towel around his waist. He padded back over to the bedroom door. The argument was still going on out in the hall. He turned the doorknob and walked right out into it.
“Alexandra? Have you seen my belt?”
Mathis and Alexandra stopped abruptly and stared at him, Mathis angrily and Alexandra hungrily.
“Jones. I can’t say I’m surprised to see you here,” Mathis gritted out.
Alexandra hit him on the shoulder. “Be nice, Eric,” she murmured. “I’ll help you find your belt, Ianto. Eric, I’ll see you at the warehouse later.”
Mathis took his dismissal with poor grace and flounced back down the hall. Alexandra was already tugging at his towel and slipping off her robe. “You have such interesting scars, Ianto,” she murmured into his mouth, sliding her hands down his arms, across his chest, up along his sides, and pulling him back down onto the bed. She drew him into her, eagerly, and wrapped her legs around his waist. “You should be nicer to poor Eric,” she gasped out. “He’s not like you.” She panted heavily. “He has such a small prick.” Ianto couldn’t help but laugh, and Alexandra smiled smugly before her face contorted with the power of her orgasm.
Ianto went back to his own flat later that morning. Alexandra wasn’t ready yet to bring him to the warehouse, and Ianto didn’t want to rush things or appear overeager to get involved in her business. He avoided the Hub for the rest of the day, in case Mathis was tailing him, and made for City Hall, instead. Andy met up with him on the front steps.
“Jones,” Andy greeted him quietly. “Anything you can tell me?”
“Nothing interesting yet. Have you been in contact with the Mayor’s office, then?”
“Yeah,” Andy replied as they made their way inside. “You can have a desk in the Tourism Department, and you’re listed in the main switchboard. I even made you business cards,” he announced with a hint of pride. Ianto raised an eyebrow. “It’s been a slow crime week,” Andy muttered. “Second floor.”
Ianto surveyed his desk. Andy had gone all out: there was a framed photo of Ianto with a grandmotherly type he didn’t recognize, next to a computer, phone, lamp and, of course, the business cards in their fancy holder. Ianto nodded approvingly. “And who is my beloved family member, then?”
Andy smirked. “My landlady. Persnickety old bag. Courtesy of Photoshop.”
The phone rang with a shrill whine, and they exchanged a look as Ianto picked it up. “Jones speaking.”
It was Alexandra on the other line, inquiring as to his dinner plans for that evening. They arranged to meet at her place at 8:00.
“What’s she like?” Andy asked curiously when he hung up the phone.
Ianto thought for a moment. “Entitled,” he answered at last. “I’d invite you along, but I think it would be a little too much if we both grinned at her like idiots.”
***
Ianto and Alexandra dined that night on scallops and linguine in a cozy little restaurant overlooking the bay. Alexandra was distracted throughout the meal, fingers drumming the table from time to time, eyes continually leaving his face to wander the length of his body. Finally, as her spoon clinked on her sorbet bowl, Ianto broached the topic of her business.
“I’m sorry if my presence at your house this morning caused any unpleasantness with your colleagues, cariad.”
Alexandra started, and her lips pursed in an amused little smile. “Cariad? What is that? I like the sound of it.”
Ianto smiled slowly and looked away, as if embarrassed. “It’s a term of endearment.”
“Mmmm. I like it. Cariad,” she mispronounced. “And who cares what Mathis thinks? The man is much too full of himself. But then, you probably know that.”
“I didn’t work in the same department as him,” Ianto demurred, “and it was a very long time ago.”
“Well, Mathis thinks that only Mathis knows best,” she stated, voice laced with irritation. “It is always the same with him. But I do not want to talk about Eric,” she continued, and raised her hand to signal the waiter. “I want you to take me back to my house and make love to me.”
Ianto hid his sigh and gave another charming smile. The irritated glint in his eye could easily be mistaken for lust.
Ianto waited until she had fallen asleep, after insisting he take her from behind, before he slid out of her bed and began a late night perusal of the ground floor. The door on the right of the foyer was locked, and he left it momentarily to get a better idea of the floorplan. The tasteful sitting room to the left led, not into offices, but into a large dining room. All of the flatware and table settings displayed in cabinets on the walls were clearly antiques. Good advertisement for any potential clients that need to be wined and dined, Ianto thought. The kitchen was large, airy and contained dozens of gadgets that looked as if they’d never been used. A door in the kitchen led to a staircase, and he quickly flitted down to the basement. The basement consisted of a long hall with smaller rooms: a sunken wine cellar with a separate exit to the outside, a laundry room, and several empty storage rooms. He was coming out of one of these when he heard a distant creak. Alexandra.
He was pouring himself a glass of milk when she wandered into the kitchen, pulling a filmy robe around her nakedness. “Trouble sleeping, Ianto?”
He took a long drink. “Nothing a little milk won’t fix.”
She laughed delightedly at his milk mustache, and crossed the floor to his side. “You look like a little boy! But I am glad you do not act like one,” she said with a leer.
Ianto leaned down and kissed her deeply, his hand steady on the small of her back. She gave him a very odd look when they pulled apart, and Ianto felt his heart begin to race in apprehension.
“What were you like as a boy, cariad?” she asked, and he blinked.
“Trouble,” he answered without thinking, and she threw her head back in a laugh.
“And what did you do that was right? Come, Ianto, tell me something wonderful about yourself.” She tugged at his hand, placing it on the sash of her robe.
Ianto racked his brain. “I liked to play chess.”
Her eyes lit up. “Chess? Do you still play?”
“I haven’t for years. But I used to be quite good.”
She pulled his fingers through the knot of her sash, and her robe fell open. “How good were you?”
He looked down at her body, ready and willing, and met her eyes. “I won trophies.”
She laughed again, her low throaty purr that he swore was practiced, and slipped out of her robe, pulling a condom from its pocket before it pooled at her feet. Her handprints fogged up the steel door of her fridge as he took her from behind again. His hands cupped her breasts, squeezing and twisting her nipples, and she moaned his name with each thrust. She was so loud, she never heard the name he moaned when he finally came.
***
The next morning, Alexandra pulled out the chessboard, and they played their first game. She won, and Ianto didn’t even have to let her. It had been awhile. He had forgotten how much he enjoyed it. She asked him to come back to the house for his lunch hour, but instead of sex, it was chess they played. She had a slight tell for when she was nervous; just one line faintly appearing between her eyebrows. She won that game, too, but it was much closer.
Ianto heard the phone ring as he was preparing to leave, and he paused, still upstairs in what he realized were her official offices, across the landing from her living quarters.
He could hear Alexandra’s voice, just a tiny sliver of fear mixed in with her irritation. “But what have you done with Emile?” Ianto stood stock still, coat half on.
“We are to make those sorts of decisions together, Eric, or have you forgotten?”
She paced into his view, and she held her hand over the mobile as she came over to him and kissed him. “Tonight,” she said, and did not even wait for his nod before returning to her call.
Ianto spotted a Harwoods Haulage lorry on his walk back to City Hall. Rhys was loading up a pushcart as he drew near, and fumbled one of the boxes, spilling out small packets of children’s costume jewelry.
“Here, mate, let me give you a hand with that.” Ianto knelt and began to gather the packets in his hands. “Tell Jack and Gwen to look into the disappearance of Emile Hupka. I think I’ve found an ‘in’ with Sebastian; should be able to give more info tomorrow,” he muttered.
“You doing all right, then? She treating you okay?” Rhys asked, trying to keep his voice low.
“Her people skills could use some work, but yes, I’m fine.” He handed the last of the packets over to Rhys and moved on.
***
Jack and Gwen sprung into action as more and more information came to them over the next few days. Gwen got a list of names of business associates when Ianto stopped for coffee and Jack got a list of potential clients, some as far away as South Africa, when Ianto ducked into a bookshop for a paper. It was Jack’s first sighting of him in the flesh in four days, and his hands itched to touch him, but Ianto frowned fiercely when he stepped closer. Jack had to keep catching himself as he and Gwen researched from the Hub. He kept turning to where Ianto always stood, or stopping a sentence mid-thought, waiting for him to finish it. He was horny, frustrated, and each time he caught sight of Ianto on CCTV, he was always laughing at one of Alexandra’s jokes, or running a hand through her hair or pointing something out to her. More so than the sex, which he missed but he still had his right hand and hours of CCTV footage, he missed Ianto’s presence and the reassurance of his friendship. He got increasingly snappish, and Gwen took to rolling her eyes more and more.
***
For his part, Ianto was getting better and better at chess, remembering all the moves he had learned fifteen years ago. He was moving into a state of mind he hadn’t occupied since he had Lisa in the basement and Jack in bed. He was increasingly woken up by nightmares, and even those helped his cause, as Alexandra began to wake up with him. He told her the sound of her voice was soothing to him, and she would speak, at first just saying nothing of import, but then she began to tell him of strange things she had seen and the people she met. Ianto kept a running tab in his head. He recognized the description of a Lucian platter, a B’varian timepiece and a Gladrian sex toy - they’d found one, too, and he squirmed into the bedclothes, recalling a night with Jack filled with pleasure so intense he was hard and aching at just the memory.
Alexandra began keeping him with her through the days, but instead of presenting him with an opportunity to explore her computer’s files or find what was locked behind the downstairs door, his moves were more closely followed than before. She was incredibly possessive, her hand firmly hooked through his arm. Finally, she left him for one afternoon to converse with the caterer, as she was throwing a party the next day for a group of potential new clients in town from Rio de Janeiro. Ianto tackled the computer first. Tosh had trained him well, and he was quite confident that he covered his tracks. Tosh had modified several Cruzers, and Ianto used one of those to quickly download files. He could just imagine Tosh’s grin if she could see what her work was doing now. He gave himself a shake, pocketed the Cruzer, and headed downstairs.
The lock was fairly easy for him to crack, and there were no internal alarms. He looked around the room, bemused. It was basically a conference room. There was a low cabinet along one wall, but a quick perusal showed him it just had tea and coffee supplies. The only other things in the room were a collection of rolled-up maps. Ianto’s mobile went off as be began to unroll the first one. Alexandra.
“Meet me at the Plass, Ianto, darling; I want to tell you something.”
“All right, cariad.”
He hurriedly snapped photos of each map with his phone and transferred the pictures to the same Cruzer.
Alexandra was leaning against the railing, staring out over the bay and smoking as he approached. He could almost feel Jack’s eyes on them, and while Alexandra’s back was still to him, he turned in the direction of a CCTV camera he knew linked right down to the Hub and gave a cheeky wink.
“Ianto, I must make a confession to you,” she began when he leaned next to her, and Ianto’s heart stilled for one moment before hammering fiercely. “I … allowed Eric to do a background check on you. You understand, don’t you?” she continued hurriedly. “You used to work with Eric in that organization. It’s only prudent to be cautious, considering what we deal with, yes?”
Ianto frowned, and looked out over the bay to buy himself some time.
“Don’t be upset, darling; Mathis couldn’t find anything against you! In fact,” and she fixed him with what he recognized as her ‘find me irresistible’ look, “we would like to invite you to join us after the party tomorrow night, to discuss working together. What do you say to that?”
He drew out his pause before turning to face her. “I would be a fool to say no, wouldn’t I?”
“Wonderful!” she exclaimed, flicking her cigarette into the bay before reaching up to kiss him. “And you’re not mad at all, cariad. I knew you would understand.”
She slid her hand through his arm again and led him away. Ianto looked back up at the camera and mouthed “9:00, tomorrow night, party her place.” The Cruzer felt warm in his pocket, but Alexandra had an iron grip on his arm. She was chattering about their last chess match, the first one Ianto had won.
They played chess again that night, Ianto winning one game out of three. Alexandra crowed with delight at winning her second game. She was affectionate, tender in bed, kissing his neck and chest and refraining from leaving gouging marks down his back. She drew his head to her breasts after they’d both climaxed, and told him a story of her childhood in Greece and the grandfather who taught her to play chess.
That night, Ianto dreamed of Jack, and cold winter nights spent huddled together in his little camp bed beneath his office, Jack’s arms around him and Jack’s voice in his ear, telling him about places he’d seen; the wonder of alien lands and peoples. He woke with a physical ache to see him again, hear his voice, smell his scent, and he fervently hoped it would be Jack that came to the party that night to get the Cruzer.
Part Two is here.
Author: blue_fjords
Rating: R
Characters: Ianto, Jack, Gwen, OFC, OMCs, cameos by Rhys, Andy, Martha
Pairings: Jack/Ianto, Ianto/OFC
Word length: 12,000
Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Torchwood or Notorious.
Summary: An homage to Alfred Hitchcock’s Notorious, 1940s melodrama/suspense. Ianto goes undercover. Jack reacts.
A/N: This fic was suggested over in the TWU plot bunny thread by rexluscus, and encouraged by kel_reiley. Thanks to them both for letting me adopt said plot bunny and then beta-ing. One last note, I am going away for three days, entirely internet-free. So if you leave a comment about a glaring typo three-quarters of the way down the page, I shall not be able to fix until I return to Internet-land. But then I shall!
“Move just a little to the left . . . a little more . . . perfect!” Jack snapped three photos in quick succession. “Okay, could you shift, just a bit?” Ianto rolled his eyes, but leaned to the right and tightened his grip on a rung. “Good, that’s good.” Jack shot him a grin and took two more photos. “I think that’s done it, then.”
“Brilliant. Now we come to the difficult part: getting down.” Ianto glanced over his shoulder and shuddered at the string of warehouses much too far below them.
“Well, maybe we should wait. For you to get comfortable,” Jack suggested, pulling Ianto even closer on his lap and adjusting his grip on Ianto’s thigh and lower back.
“Jack. We are clinging to a dilapidated fire escape above a den of smugglers. There’s no comfortable in this.”
Jack arched his neck to kiss him. “Supposed smugglers,” he murmured against Ianto’s mouth. “Let’s not jump to conclusions.”
Against his better judgment, Ianto kissed him back. Jack grinned against his mouth, and parted his lips for him. A door banged open down below, and Ianto almost lost his hold on the fire escape.
“I got you, I got you!” Jack whispered, pressing Ianto against him.
“Camera, Jack,” Ianto whispered back, catching his breath.
“Yeah. . .” Jack breathed, tugging at the camera around his neck with one hand and gripping Ianto’s waist with the other, relying on Ianto to keep them in place. Snap. Jack juggled the camera between their bodies to adjust the focus. Snap.
A woman had stepped out of one of the warehouses, face lit up briefly by her lighter. The smoke from her cigarette hung above her head for a moment, then dissipated in the wind off the bay, leaving Jack a clear view. Mid- to late-thirties, attractive, possibly Greek. Her dark hair was coiled in a bun at the nape of her neck and little tendrils escaped around her face, giving her a windswept, romantic look. Jack made note of full breasts and rather wide hips before she turned at a noise from inside the warehouse, flicked her cigarette, and walked back in. The sound of a heavy bolt dropping into place carried up to their perch.
Jack looked at Ianto. “So . . . where were we?”
Ianto rolled his eyes yet again. “Going back to the Hub. Which has nice, solid footing.”
Jack grinned and helped him climb down. “Come on, Ianto! Clinging to a ladder with a dashing captain wrapped around you - wasn’t that at least slightly romantic?” He had a feeling he should be grateful that the wind carried away Ianto’s response.
***
“Well, we can cross out ‘supposed’ and go right to ‘definite’ smugglers.” Ianto straightened up from where he’d been hunched over examining the photos with a complicated-looking set of alien tech goggles. “Look.”
Jack leaned around him and snagged the goggles, adjusting the eyepiece on the tech. “Wow, bright purple. I would say these pieces,” and he jabbed at the air, forgetting that he was the only one who could see the virtual display, “are 3rd Century Deluvian - very rare. And these over here,” he continued, as Gwen turned in her stool to watch and exchanged a grin with Ianto, while Jack pointed out the coat rack, “are definitely 44th Century Glavid - quite dangerous, in fact.”
Gwen giggled.
“Are we now laughing in the face of danger, Gwen?” Jack asked, pulling off the goggles.
She shook her head. “No, just in the face of Jack looking ridiculous.” He flashed her a charming grin and twirled the goggles around his finger as the facial recognition program she’d been running on her computer dinged, and she turned back to the monitor.
“Alexandra Sebastian,” Gwen announced triumphantly.
“That our smuggler?” Jack asked, coming up behind her workstation.
“Antiques dealer, if you please,” Gwen answered with her best hoity-toity inflection. “Age 37, no criminal background, renting a house in Cardiff by the month and owns a villa in Tuscany.”
“Rather posh,” Ianto commented, joining them. Alexandra Sebastian sported an impressive collection of jewels, smiling a Mona Lisa smile in her file photo.
“And into all sorts of charities,” Gwen added. There was quite a collection of photos, all in a different fashionable dress, all with a different younger man on her arm.
“Does she have an office address?” Jack asked, checking out the photos. “She’s got good taste in men, at any rate.”
Ianto huffed a laugh as Gwen punched a few more keys. “No, no office. She’s conducting her business from her house; the business is leasing that warehouse you found this morning - not regulated for office space.”
“We need to figure out how she’s getting her hands on alien tech,” Jack said, frowning at Alexandra Sebastian’s frozen image.
“And her client list,” Ianto added.
“And her hairdresser,” Gwen chimed in. She blinked as the others turned to look at her, Jack amused and Ianto bemused. “Fine then. And her business partners.”
Jack turned back to the monitor. “You know what I’m thinking?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “I’m thinking there’s a charity function coming up at the Castle this very evening.”
“You planning to go and seduce the info out of Sebastian?” Gwen asked, throwing a quick glance at Ianto, who just looked calmly back at Jack.
“Nah, doesn’t look like I’m her type,” Jack replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “But I have someone else in mind.”
“Someone else?” Ianto asked with a raised eyebrow. Jack grinned at him. “Oh, no. I don’t like a gentleman who grins at me.”
Jack just grinned wider. “Come on, Ianto, brush off your tux and choose your most charming smile. It’s time to practice your seduction skills. You’re getting rusty.”
***
Ianto adjusted his earpiece, fiddled with the microphone and camera in his bowtie, and picked a nonexistent piece of lint off his jacket.
“You look very handsome,” Gwen said, coming up behind him.
“Cheers,” he muttered, focusing on his cuff links.
“Here, let me help.” She took his right wrist in her hands and fixed the small piece of jewelry in place. “Ianto?” She asked, picking up his other wrist and fastening the cuff link. “Are you okay with this?”
“They’re Jack’s cuff links,” he answered quickly. “I would have gone with something simpler, but he thought the flash might work tonight.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Gwen said softly.
He sighed. “Gwen, it’s just a job. Like any other.” She gave him a skeptical look, and he grimaced. “You didn’t object earlier.”
“It’s not really my business, is it? Oh, don’t laugh at me; I can give you some boundaries!” she said crossly, swatting his arm. “I want us to get the information and stop the big bad smuggler, yes, obviously. But surely there are other ways we could go about doing this!”
He smoothed his face at Gwen’s distress, and answered as gently as possible, “We need first-hand information, and some of those pieces are dangerous. This calls for a delicate touch.”
Gwen shrugged her shoulders irritably. “Okay, okay, if you’re both fine with this, then I can’t object.”
Jack came clattering down the walkway and into the Hub proper. “Ready, gang? Ianto -” he caught sight of them and cut off abruptly, giving a low whistle. Ianto could feel himself preening under Jack’s admiring look. It took a conscious effort to roll his eyes. Jack sauntered over, hands in pockets. “So! I’m not from these here parts; tell me - are all Welshmen as gorgeous as you or did I just get lucky?”
“You got very lucky,” Ianto answered dryly.
“I did! But am I going to get lu -”
“Ahem!” Gwen interrupted, with a slight smile. “I believe we need to get going?”
Jack nodded to her and offered Ianto his arm. “Come, Ianto! Your chariot awaits!”
***
Jack pulled the SUV up to Cardiff Castle, and Ianto took a deep breath before opening the door. Jack caught at his elbow. “Hey - we’ll be with you every step of the way, okay?”
Ianto nodded and seized the door handle, but turned and kissed Jack on the lips quickly before getting out of the vehicle. Gwen looked down at the PDA, smiling.
Jack drove to an abandoned car park and killed the engine. Gwen pulled up visuals and the two of them leaned together, watching as Ianto entered the Castle.
Ianto paused at the stairs, turning his body slightly to take in as much of the room as possible. He did not see Alexandra Sebastian yet. He snagged a flute of champagne from a passing waiter and began to circulate, an aloof expression like a mask over his face. Little clusters of men in tuxes and women in cocktail dresses dotted the ballroom. The main topic of conversation was an event that had happened at the Cardiff Riding Club last week. Ianto heard no one discussing the charity, and he had to glance up at the banner above the entrance to the Castle to remind himself what they were here for: Society for the Protection of Cephalopods.
He wandered out to the garden, and there he found Alexandra Sebastian. She was standing in a pool of light, and he had little doubt that she had chosen that strategic positioning on purpose. A string quartet was set up in one corner of the garden, and started up a slow waltz as Ianto grabbed an additional flute of champagne and made his way across to Ms. Sebastian. The evil smuggler, he reminded himself.
She glanced up from her conversation with a sweating little man and favored him with a slow smile. “I was just telling Emile here how very thirsty I was. Could you possibly be intending to share that with me?” Her voice was flavored with a slight continental European accent.
Ianto nodded pleasantly to her. “Of course, Madame.”
She raised a delicately arched brow at him and took the flute, sipping daintily. Ianto was fairly certain it was an act. Alexandra Sebastian looked like she could throw back her liquor.
“This castle is quite lovely, though I imagine it would be extremely hard to heat in the winter, what with all of the concealed nooks and crannies,” she said.
How subtle, Jack’s voice sounded in his ear. “It is, at that. Still, we wouldn’t want our Castle any other way, I’m sure. Ianto Jones,” he proffered his hand. “I’m with the Welsh Tourism Board.”
She laughed a little tinkly laugh and took his hand. “Alexandra Sebastian. I dabble in antiques - restoration, procurement, that sort of thing.” Her hand was soft but her grip was hard.
“Emile Hupka. I’m in Antiques, too. Their, er, eventual placement,” the sweaty little man piped up. Ianto blinked down at him, but released Ms. Sebastian’s hand to shake Emile’s.
“So, Mr. Jones, does the Welsh Tourism Board offer personalized tours of Cardiff?”
Jack chuckled in his ear, and Ianto smiled. “Is there a part of Cardiff you are particularly interested in, Ms. Sebastian?”
She laid her hand on his forearm. “Please. Call me Alexandra.” She did not withdraw her hand as she continued talking. This close, her perfume was almost overwhelming. “-and the Plass, when was that built?”
Belatedly, Ianto realized she had stopped talking. He opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the appearance of another man.
“Jones? Ianto Jones?”
Ianto froze. Damn, who’s that? Jack echoed his own thoughts. Ianto turned to the voice.
“It is you! What a small world, isn’t it just?”
Ianto’s heart thudded in his chest as painful memories rose up. He squashed them ruthlessly down. “Mathis. How nice to see you again. What are you doing in Cardiff?”
Mathis gave him a small, mean smile as Alexandra and Emile looked back and forth between them. “Antiques.”
Ianto, is that man former Torchwood One? Jack hissed in his ear.
“Yes. Antiques. Are you all business partners then?” Ianto started to sweat, and consciously evened his breathing. Jack was swearing in his ear, and he could hear Gwen punching keys in the background.
“Eric has quite the eye for antiques,” Alexandra interrupted, drawing attention back to herself. “However do the two of you know each other? I don’t recall you mentioning an old friend in Cardiff, Eric.” There was an added bite to that last sentence, and Ianto vowed to examine it further, if he got out of this.
“I did not know he had transferred to Cardiff!” Mathis protested. “We worked together several years ago, but you know how it goes, people lose touch.”
“And I am no longer in antiques,” Ianto supplied. “I am quite happy with the tourism industry.”
Mathis gave him an assessing look. Ianto seriously doubted that he believed that for one second, but Alexandra visibly brightened. “Then you would be able to give me a private tour of Cardiff, yes?”
Good thing she’s horny, Jack murmured in his ear.
Ianto turned his most charming smile on her. “I would be delighted.”
“I’m sure,” Mathis muttered under his breath. “Come, Emile,” he continued, turning to the round little man. “I want to talk to you about some of your distribution ideas.” Emile started visibly, but allowed the taller man to steer him forcibly over towards another corridor.
“You must forgive Eric,” Alexandra said, frowning after their retreating backs. “He is intimidated by someone with your qualities.”
Ianto paused, taking a sip of his champagne. “My qualities?”
“Don’t be coy, Ianto darling.” She ran a finger over the chest of his jacket. “And pick me up tomorrow morning at 10.”
“Til tomorrow, then,” he agreed, tipped her chin up to him with one finger, and kissed her rather stridently on the lips. He could feel her burning eyes on his back as he left.
Jack and Gwen were pulling up as he exited Cardiff Castle. “Well. Did you have a good time?” Jack asked lightly as Ianto climbed into the SUV. “Where will you be taking the lovely Alexandra on your morning date?”
Gwen stared at him. “Are you crazy, Jack? He can’t see her again; Mathis was Torchwood One! We have to break contact.”
“Gwen, this just confirms that they’re more heavily invested than we thought!” Jack retorted. “How many former Torchwood One operatives are masquerading as antiques dealers and dispensing alien technology throughout Wales? The world?”
“Ianto could be in danger!”
“Ianto is always in danger!”
“And Ianto has an opinion,” Ianto cut in testily. They both snapped their mouths shut. He cleared his throat. “Mathis obviously thinks that I’m still involved in Torchwood to some degree. If I break off contact, he’ll use all his resources to track us down, and we don’t want that. I just have to convince him that I’ve left it behind. So when you drop me off at my flat, no more contact. If they have a smugglers’ meeting or some such, I’ll put in an earpiece, but other than that, just find me once a day and I’ll pass on what I’ve learned on a chip or something. Use Rhys and Andy as well.”
He paused for breath. Gwen looked stubborn, but Jack was smiling to himself.
“Look, there is definitely a tension between Alexandra and Mathis. I’ll play that up. They’ll be so busy trying to keep an eye on each other, they won’t notice what I’m doing.”
Gwen nodded grudgingly. “You are good at playing people.” She didn’t seem to notice Jack’s sudden frown. “Right then, we should have a code word or something in case we need to do an extraction.”
Jack snorted. “How about ‘maple’?”
Ianto could feel his cheeks heat. “An extraction phrase, not a safe word. How about a sentence that includes the word ‘Christmas’?”
Gwen nodded as they pulled up in front of Ianto’s building. “Be careful, Ianto love,” she said seriously, and Ianto allowed himself to be hugged awkwardly from the front seat to the back.
“Show her a good time,” Jack said, but then leaned into the back and pulled Ianto into a sloppy kiss that went on and on. Ianto could feel a slight tremor of anxiety through the kiss, and he attempted to set him at ease with his tongue and teeth and lips. When they finally pulled away, Gwen was staring studiously out the window, a dreamy little smile on her face.
“I’ll be in touch,” he said, and hopped out of the SUV before he could change his mind and go back to the Hub.
***
Ianto drove to Alexandra’s house the next morning, arriving at 9:58. He was dressed more casually than usual. He had put a good deal of thought into what Ianto Jones, member of Cardiff’s tourism industry and mid-twenties man hoping to charm an older, successful businesswoman, would wear to conduct a tour of Cardiff’s tourist attractions. He settled on denims, not too tight but not shapeless, a dark purple button-down, and black blazer. It felt odd to ditch the tie, his fingers automatically lifting to tug on the tie to soothe his nerves. He checked his hair in the rearview mirror, took a deep breath, and marched up to the front door.
Alexandra opened the door before he had even hit the buzzer. “You found me!” she exclaimed with a throaty chuckle. Her dark eyes roamed over his body, and he could tell he had chosen correctly.
“Your antiques company has developed quite a prestigious reputation, Alexandra. It was not difficult to find you.”
She laughed again, that strange tinkly but throaty purr. “Do come in; I have to get my coat.”
Ianto followed her into a large foyer. He looked around surreptitiously while she crossed to a wardrobe and picked through several coats. There was nothing in the foyer that could really help them. A large staircase curved around and led the way up to the second floor. All of the doors were closed on that floor. To the left of the foyer was a finely appointed sitting room, perhaps leading back into her official offices. The door on the right of the foyer was closed. The only things, other than the wardrobe, in the marble foyer were a large mirror in an ornate frame and a finely carved wooden bench underneath the mirror. Alexandra finally selected her coat, and Ianto helped her into it before offering her his arm as they left the house.
He took her to some of the lesser known sights in Cardiff, a rich lunch at a French restaurant, tea at a little shop overlooking the bay (where Ianto caught sight of PC Andy out of the corner of his eye, and shook his head), winding up on the Plass. Alexandra was a fan of Roald Dahl, and grilled him about the construction of the plaza area. She stood very close to him in the wind, and he imagined Jack watching from the CCTV cameras, directly beneath them.
They talked nothing of antiques or Mathis all day, and Alexandra began to smile wider, her fingers lingering longer on his arm, occasionally touching his hair and rubbing an errant lock between her fingertips. Nightfall found them back at her house, and he was unsurprised when she invited him inside and up to the second floor.
Ianto hadn’t had sex with a woman since Lisa, he realized with a slight shock. And he’d been exclusively with Jack for over a year, almost by accident. Alexandra was nothing like either of them. She was bossy and greedy, and her eyes were filled with lust, not coupled with any affectionate glow. Her body was soft and pampered, her curly hair snarling in his hands and her long fingernails scraping along his back. Her nightstand sported an impressive collection of condoms, and they went through three before she finally fell asleep, a contented smile on her face.
Ianto watched her sleep, the moonlight bleaching out the already miniscule lines on her face and contrasting starkly with her dark hair. He was fairly sure he had sufficiently hid the fact that he hadn’t had a very good time. There was just no comparison to Jack. Jack was full of contradictions, demanding and generous, rough and tender, strong fingers and soft kisses. And ever since the night he returned from traveling with the Doctor, Ianto had felt like he had his full attention each time they’d fucked, each time they’d even kissed. That was one of the amazing things about Jack. Alexandra didn’t have it. Ianto had grown used to not being taken for granted; it would take some adjustment to slide back into that frame of mind.
Alexandra was already up and out of bed when he awoke the next morning. He could hear voices out in the hall, and he leaned his head back against the pillows with a groan. Mathis, most definitely. He rolled out of bed and locked himself into the bathroom. A perusal of Alexandra’s medicine cabinet revealed her to have no allergies strong enough for medicine, but the occasional migraine headache. There were no other medicines for any chronic diseases. He took a quick shower, using her expensive shampoo and soaps, and tied a towel around his waist. He padded back over to the bedroom door. The argument was still going on out in the hall. He turned the doorknob and walked right out into it.
“Alexandra? Have you seen my belt?”
Mathis and Alexandra stopped abruptly and stared at him, Mathis angrily and Alexandra hungrily.
“Jones. I can’t say I’m surprised to see you here,” Mathis gritted out.
Alexandra hit him on the shoulder. “Be nice, Eric,” she murmured. “I’ll help you find your belt, Ianto. Eric, I’ll see you at the warehouse later.”
Mathis took his dismissal with poor grace and flounced back down the hall. Alexandra was already tugging at his towel and slipping off her robe. “You have such interesting scars, Ianto,” she murmured into his mouth, sliding her hands down his arms, across his chest, up along his sides, and pulling him back down onto the bed. She drew him into her, eagerly, and wrapped her legs around his waist. “You should be nicer to poor Eric,” she gasped out. “He’s not like you.” She panted heavily. “He has such a small prick.” Ianto couldn’t help but laugh, and Alexandra smiled smugly before her face contorted with the power of her orgasm.
Ianto went back to his own flat later that morning. Alexandra wasn’t ready yet to bring him to the warehouse, and Ianto didn’t want to rush things or appear overeager to get involved in her business. He avoided the Hub for the rest of the day, in case Mathis was tailing him, and made for City Hall, instead. Andy met up with him on the front steps.
“Jones,” Andy greeted him quietly. “Anything you can tell me?”
“Nothing interesting yet. Have you been in contact with the Mayor’s office, then?”
“Yeah,” Andy replied as they made their way inside. “You can have a desk in the Tourism Department, and you’re listed in the main switchboard. I even made you business cards,” he announced with a hint of pride. Ianto raised an eyebrow. “It’s been a slow crime week,” Andy muttered. “Second floor.”
Ianto surveyed his desk. Andy had gone all out: there was a framed photo of Ianto with a grandmotherly type he didn’t recognize, next to a computer, phone, lamp and, of course, the business cards in their fancy holder. Ianto nodded approvingly. “And who is my beloved family member, then?”
Andy smirked. “My landlady. Persnickety old bag. Courtesy of Photoshop.”
The phone rang with a shrill whine, and they exchanged a look as Ianto picked it up. “Jones speaking.”
It was Alexandra on the other line, inquiring as to his dinner plans for that evening. They arranged to meet at her place at 8:00.
“What’s she like?” Andy asked curiously when he hung up the phone.
Ianto thought for a moment. “Entitled,” he answered at last. “I’d invite you along, but I think it would be a little too much if we both grinned at her like idiots.”
***
Ianto and Alexandra dined that night on scallops and linguine in a cozy little restaurant overlooking the bay. Alexandra was distracted throughout the meal, fingers drumming the table from time to time, eyes continually leaving his face to wander the length of his body. Finally, as her spoon clinked on her sorbet bowl, Ianto broached the topic of her business.
“I’m sorry if my presence at your house this morning caused any unpleasantness with your colleagues, cariad.”
Alexandra started, and her lips pursed in an amused little smile. “Cariad? What is that? I like the sound of it.”
Ianto smiled slowly and looked away, as if embarrassed. “It’s a term of endearment.”
“Mmmm. I like it. Cariad,” she mispronounced. “And who cares what Mathis thinks? The man is much too full of himself. But then, you probably know that.”
“I didn’t work in the same department as him,” Ianto demurred, “and it was a very long time ago.”
“Well, Mathis thinks that only Mathis knows best,” she stated, voice laced with irritation. “It is always the same with him. But I do not want to talk about Eric,” she continued, and raised her hand to signal the waiter. “I want you to take me back to my house and make love to me.”
Ianto hid his sigh and gave another charming smile. The irritated glint in his eye could easily be mistaken for lust.
Ianto waited until she had fallen asleep, after insisting he take her from behind, before he slid out of her bed and began a late night perusal of the ground floor. The door on the right of the foyer was locked, and he left it momentarily to get a better idea of the floorplan. The tasteful sitting room to the left led, not into offices, but into a large dining room. All of the flatware and table settings displayed in cabinets on the walls were clearly antiques. Good advertisement for any potential clients that need to be wined and dined, Ianto thought. The kitchen was large, airy and contained dozens of gadgets that looked as if they’d never been used. A door in the kitchen led to a staircase, and he quickly flitted down to the basement. The basement consisted of a long hall with smaller rooms: a sunken wine cellar with a separate exit to the outside, a laundry room, and several empty storage rooms. He was coming out of one of these when he heard a distant creak. Alexandra.
He was pouring himself a glass of milk when she wandered into the kitchen, pulling a filmy robe around her nakedness. “Trouble sleeping, Ianto?”
He took a long drink. “Nothing a little milk won’t fix.”
She laughed delightedly at his milk mustache, and crossed the floor to his side. “You look like a little boy! But I am glad you do not act like one,” she said with a leer.
Ianto leaned down and kissed her deeply, his hand steady on the small of her back. She gave him a very odd look when they pulled apart, and Ianto felt his heart begin to race in apprehension.
“What were you like as a boy, cariad?” she asked, and he blinked.
“Trouble,” he answered without thinking, and she threw her head back in a laugh.
“And what did you do that was right? Come, Ianto, tell me something wonderful about yourself.” She tugged at his hand, placing it on the sash of her robe.
Ianto racked his brain. “I liked to play chess.”
Her eyes lit up. “Chess? Do you still play?”
“I haven’t for years. But I used to be quite good.”
She pulled his fingers through the knot of her sash, and her robe fell open. “How good were you?”
He looked down at her body, ready and willing, and met her eyes. “I won trophies.”
She laughed again, her low throaty purr that he swore was practiced, and slipped out of her robe, pulling a condom from its pocket before it pooled at her feet. Her handprints fogged up the steel door of her fridge as he took her from behind again. His hands cupped her breasts, squeezing and twisting her nipples, and she moaned his name with each thrust. She was so loud, she never heard the name he moaned when he finally came.
***
The next morning, Alexandra pulled out the chessboard, and they played their first game. She won, and Ianto didn’t even have to let her. It had been awhile. He had forgotten how much he enjoyed it. She asked him to come back to the house for his lunch hour, but instead of sex, it was chess they played. She had a slight tell for when she was nervous; just one line faintly appearing between her eyebrows. She won that game, too, but it was much closer.
Ianto heard the phone ring as he was preparing to leave, and he paused, still upstairs in what he realized were her official offices, across the landing from her living quarters.
He could hear Alexandra’s voice, just a tiny sliver of fear mixed in with her irritation. “But what have you done with Emile?” Ianto stood stock still, coat half on.
“We are to make those sorts of decisions together, Eric, or have you forgotten?”
She paced into his view, and she held her hand over the mobile as she came over to him and kissed him. “Tonight,” she said, and did not even wait for his nod before returning to her call.
Ianto spotted a Harwoods Haulage lorry on his walk back to City Hall. Rhys was loading up a pushcart as he drew near, and fumbled one of the boxes, spilling out small packets of children’s costume jewelry.
“Here, mate, let me give you a hand with that.” Ianto knelt and began to gather the packets in his hands. “Tell Jack and Gwen to look into the disappearance of Emile Hupka. I think I’ve found an ‘in’ with Sebastian; should be able to give more info tomorrow,” he muttered.
“You doing all right, then? She treating you okay?” Rhys asked, trying to keep his voice low.
“Her people skills could use some work, but yes, I’m fine.” He handed the last of the packets over to Rhys and moved on.
***
Jack and Gwen sprung into action as more and more information came to them over the next few days. Gwen got a list of names of business associates when Ianto stopped for coffee and Jack got a list of potential clients, some as far away as South Africa, when Ianto ducked into a bookshop for a paper. It was Jack’s first sighting of him in the flesh in four days, and his hands itched to touch him, but Ianto frowned fiercely when he stepped closer. Jack had to keep catching himself as he and Gwen researched from the Hub. He kept turning to where Ianto always stood, or stopping a sentence mid-thought, waiting for him to finish it. He was horny, frustrated, and each time he caught sight of Ianto on CCTV, he was always laughing at one of Alexandra’s jokes, or running a hand through her hair or pointing something out to her. More so than the sex, which he missed but he still had his right hand and hours of CCTV footage, he missed Ianto’s presence and the reassurance of his friendship. He got increasingly snappish, and Gwen took to rolling her eyes more and more.
***
For his part, Ianto was getting better and better at chess, remembering all the moves he had learned fifteen years ago. He was moving into a state of mind he hadn’t occupied since he had Lisa in the basement and Jack in bed. He was increasingly woken up by nightmares, and even those helped his cause, as Alexandra began to wake up with him. He told her the sound of her voice was soothing to him, and she would speak, at first just saying nothing of import, but then she began to tell him of strange things she had seen and the people she met. Ianto kept a running tab in his head. He recognized the description of a Lucian platter, a B’varian timepiece and a Gladrian sex toy - they’d found one, too, and he squirmed into the bedclothes, recalling a night with Jack filled with pleasure so intense he was hard and aching at just the memory.
Alexandra began keeping him with her through the days, but instead of presenting him with an opportunity to explore her computer’s files or find what was locked behind the downstairs door, his moves were more closely followed than before. She was incredibly possessive, her hand firmly hooked through his arm. Finally, she left him for one afternoon to converse with the caterer, as she was throwing a party the next day for a group of potential new clients in town from Rio de Janeiro. Ianto tackled the computer first. Tosh had trained him well, and he was quite confident that he covered his tracks. Tosh had modified several Cruzers, and Ianto used one of those to quickly download files. He could just imagine Tosh’s grin if she could see what her work was doing now. He gave himself a shake, pocketed the Cruzer, and headed downstairs.
The lock was fairly easy for him to crack, and there were no internal alarms. He looked around the room, bemused. It was basically a conference room. There was a low cabinet along one wall, but a quick perusal showed him it just had tea and coffee supplies. The only other things in the room were a collection of rolled-up maps. Ianto’s mobile went off as be began to unroll the first one. Alexandra.
“Meet me at the Plass, Ianto, darling; I want to tell you something.”
“All right, cariad.”
He hurriedly snapped photos of each map with his phone and transferred the pictures to the same Cruzer.
Alexandra was leaning against the railing, staring out over the bay and smoking as he approached. He could almost feel Jack’s eyes on them, and while Alexandra’s back was still to him, he turned in the direction of a CCTV camera he knew linked right down to the Hub and gave a cheeky wink.
“Ianto, I must make a confession to you,” she began when he leaned next to her, and Ianto’s heart stilled for one moment before hammering fiercely. “I … allowed Eric to do a background check on you. You understand, don’t you?” she continued hurriedly. “You used to work with Eric in that organization. It’s only prudent to be cautious, considering what we deal with, yes?”
Ianto frowned, and looked out over the bay to buy himself some time.
“Don’t be upset, darling; Mathis couldn’t find anything against you! In fact,” and she fixed him with what he recognized as her ‘find me irresistible’ look, “we would like to invite you to join us after the party tomorrow night, to discuss working together. What do you say to that?”
He drew out his pause before turning to face her. “I would be a fool to say no, wouldn’t I?”
“Wonderful!” she exclaimed, flicking her cigarette into the bay before reaching up to kiss him. “And you’re not mad at all, cariad. I knew you would understand.”
She slid her hand through his arm again and led him away. Ianto looked back up at the camera and mouthed “9:00, tomorrow night, party her place.” The Cruzer felt warm in his pocket, but Alexandra had an iron grip on his arm. She was chattering about their last chess match, the first one Ianto had won.
They played chess again that night, Ianto winning one game out of three. Alexandra crowed with delight at winning her second game. She was affectionate, tender in bed, kissing his neck and chest and refraining from leaving gouging marks down his back. She drew his head to her breasts after they’d both climaxed, and told him a story of her childhood in Greece and the grandfather who taught her to play chess.
That night, Ianto dreamed of Jack, and cold winter nights spent huddled together in his little camp bed beneath his office, Jack’s arms around him and Jack’s voice in his ear, telling him about places he’d seen; the wonder of alien lands and peoples. He woke with a physical ache to see him again, hear his voice, smell his scent, and he fervently hoped it would be Jack that came to the party that night to get the Cruzer.
Part Two is here.