FIC: The Carriage held but just Ourselves (Pt. 4/10)
Title: The Carriage held but just Ourselves (Pt. 4/10)
Author: blue_fjords
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Gwen, Jack, Ianto, Tosh, Rhys, Owen, PC Andy, Kathy Swanson, Suzie
Words: ~2,000 (this part)
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: AU Crime Novel w/ alternating PC Gwen Cooper and CIA Agent Jack Harkness chapters. Each section contains a chapter (lengths may vary) from Gwen and Jack.
A/N: Thanks awfully to my beta, paragraphs -- she's a superstar! This section features a little Owen, and a little action. Title from Emily Dickinson.
Gwen
“-then you can share with me! Until then, Ms. I-Need-to-Know-Everything, I’m not telling you nothing!”
The tinny voice floated down the hall to her, carried by the building’s pipes, and Gwen couldn’t catch the response. She picked up her pace regardless and wrenched open the door to Dr. Harper’s autopsy bay. The female Interpol agent was with Harper, scowling at him over the body of Mark Brisco. They both turned at Gwen’s entrance.
“Oi! You can’t come in here dressed like that! Out! Out!” Dr. Harper brandished his finger at her, and Gwen glanced down at her uniform, taken aback. The other two were wearing little gown coveralls and haircaps and masks. “Sorry,” she muttered.
She ducked back outside and hurriedly donned her own blue outfit before re-entering.
“Oi! Did I say you could come in?” Harper scowled at her over his mask, and Gwen dug her heels in.
“Ignore him, PC Cooper. DI Swanson phoned ahead.” The Interpol agent stepped forward, holding out her hand. “Toshiko Sato, Interpol. It’s nice to see you again,” she said, conveniently brushing aside that they had not really met. Gwen shook her hand gladly before turning to Dr. Harper.
“We haven’t met yet. PC Gwen Cooper.” Harper barely touched his own latex fingers to hers before turning back to the body.
“Anyone else you want to invite over? He’s a fascinating corpse; you could all have a go.”
Gwen gave him a placating smile, then realized it was a moot point with her mask on. “Dr. Harper,” she tried instead, “DI Swanson told me you had some very sensitive information? I won’t lay one finger on the corpse,” she promised solemnly, inwardly shuddering at the idea of cutting open Mark Brisco’s body. His skin had been cleaned of the mud and filth of the alley, but he was still a gray, bloated corpse.
Harper snorted loudly. Gwen hoped he choked on his own spit. “Of course you won’t lay one finger on the corpse! You’re a fucking copper, not a pathologist.” She stiffened her knees as he took a step towards her. “And as for sensitive information, maybe I have something, maybe I don’t. If your friends at Interpol would share - ”
“I’ve already told you, Dr. Harper,” Toshiko interjected, crossing her arms, “I will tell you as much as you need to know. There are regulations here, and the Cardiff police have already agreed to cooperate. They’re here now, so if you would be so kind - ” And she gestured angrily at the body.
Gwen looked back and forth between the two of them. Finally Harper spat out a “Fine.” He pulled down the sheet and indicated the hole in Mark Brisco’s chest. “Look here.” Gwen and Toshiko both peered at the jagged opening. “See, it was made by a serrated edge. Is that consistent with your other murders?” he asked Toshiko.
She shook her head. “No. Each wound has been different, no two weapons the same, which has made it difficult to tie them all together.”
Harper raised a brow. “You sure about that? Look.” Gwen exchanged a startled glance with Toshiko, then both women leaned closer. Gwen was profoundly glad for the face mask to prevent at least a small bit of the disinfectant smell from reaching her. “See, right there?” Harper continued, pointing to the tiniest dot on one of Mark Brisco’s ribs. “That was made by a needle, at the time of death, as far as I can tell. Maybe your weapons aren’t the same, but tell me, Agent Sato Ma’am,” and he rocked back on his heels, “do you have needle punctures?”
Gwen met Toshiko’s eyes. She could tell the other woman didn’t know the answer. Yet. “Thank you for your help, Dr. Harper,” Toshiko stated, rather formally. “It’s possible we’ll want to confer with you further on this case.”
Harper hitched his shoulders irritably. “I bet you will.”
“Why would she do that? The killer, I mean?” Gwen asked, staving off another argument. “What would she get from the bone - marrow, right?”
The other two stared at her, and she winced. She’d called the killer “she,” meaning “Emily Dickinson,” which was obviously not so. “Um, why would the killer puncture a bone?” she backtracked.
Toshiko was still watching her consideringly, but it was Harper who answered. “How the fuck would I know? You lot deal with motivations.” He picked up an envelope from a side table. “Here,” he said, handing it to Gwen, “photos for your DI Swanson. Can’t say I never did nothing for you.”
Gwen took it with a mumbled thanks as Toshiko’s mobile went off. She turned her back on them to answer, and Harper moved in a little closer. Gwen could smell his aftershave, strangely sweet overlaying the tang of disinfectant and chemicals. She wished she could see if his mouth was smirking. Her mobile vibrated under the little gown, and she smirked to herself, stepping away from Harper to answer.
“What the hell, Gwen? Exactly how long was I supposed to hold a seat for you, yeah?”
Gwen flinched. She had completely forgotten about Andy. “Andy, I’m so sorry, but DI Swanson had me do something for her -”
“Swanson? Bzzzzzz. Try again.”
“She did Andy, promise,” she whispered back. She could feel Harper’s eyes on the back of her neck. “She was going to court.”
“Well, she didn’t stay there,” Andy shot back. “Smith was over there, and he just told me the DI left right before testifying and tore off in the opposite direction.”
Gwen blinked. “That doesn’t make sense.”
Toshiko entered her field of vision. “We need to leave NOW, PC Cooper.”
Gwen frowned into the phone. “I’m sorry Andy, I’ll have to call you back.” She clicked it closed without waiting for a response - make that three rounds you owe him, Cooper - and looked over at Toshiko.
“Our killer’s been spotted.”
Jack
Ianto got the call when they were still in the stairwell leading up to Room 456. Jack started at the touch of the other man’s fingers on his arm, but Ianto’s white face stopped him from making one of a half dozen quips that flew to his mind.
“Woman matching Suzie’s description has been spotted over on Brynheulog,” Ianto hissed, mobile pressed to his ear. Jack turned and practically flew down the stairs, Ianto fast on his heels.
“You know where that is, right?” he threw over his shoulder as his feet slammed onto the final landing.
“It’s very close.” Ianto caught up to him as they ran out of the hospital. “It’s mainly residential; there’s a school of some kind there.”
Jack jumped into the passenger side of the SUV and willed Ianto to drive faster. His heart thudded painfully in his chest. His mind’s eye was filled with Alex’s face, the last time he’d seen him alive. Alex, of the incredibly dry wit, morose little smile and overwhelming sense of duty. Alex had been serious about being an Agent, he’d been one of the best, and Suzie Costello had cut him down. Jack flexed his fingers, reached down and drew his gun. Ianto glanced down at it, but all he said was “Hang on,” as they skidded around a curve.
“Look out!” Jack yelled. A nondescript sedan was broken down right in front of them. Ianto swerved hard, crossing the line and slamming the brakes, stopping a finger’s breadth before plowing into someone’s back garden. Jack grabbed his hand as he began shifting into reverse. “Wait.” He stared at the sedan. “I don’t think -”
A tiny *ping* sounded behind them, followed by a crash as the glass in the back seat’s window shattered.
“Fuck!” Jack swore, kicking open his car door. “Come on!” He reached behind him, pulling Ianto along. Ianto looked a mite dazed, and Jack spared a fleeting thought to wonder how many times the younger man had been in a shootout. He made a silent vow that Ianto would live to be stoic in his next one. He crouched low, and pulled Ianto behind the front tire with him.
“She’s behind that brown fence,” Ianto whispered, holding his own gun steady. Jack blinked once at his hands, then focused on the fence.
“It’s too high,” he decided, “and depending on what’s on the other side, a bullet’s not going to reach her. We have to get closer. Follow my lead.”
He took a deep breath and cautiously peered around the front of the SUV. The brown fence was about six feet tall, and added to the slight ditch they were in, all he could make out above the fence was one scraggly tree and a clothesline. Ianto touched his shoulder, and Jack turned, almost knocking foreheads. Jack could smell coffee and mouthwash on Ianto’s breath as he whispered, “Reinforcements are coming. I’ve texted our position.”
Jack shook his head. “No. That’s Suzie Costello in there, this close to the hospital. We are running out of time and I will not wait.” He knew his voice was harsh, but he couldn’t help it. Ianto hesitated for a moment, and Jack felt his throat constrict.
“All right,” he said finally.
Jack grinned fiercely, a feral baring of the teeth, nothing more. “I’m going through the fence. You stay outside the fence in case she slips out. Tell those reinforcements to come from the front.” He didn’t wait for agreement before sprinting for the door in the fence. Ianto swore behind him before taking off, and he could hear the other man’s footfalls squeaking in the dewy grass as he slowly drew open the door, gun in first, then the rest of him.
His eyes and ears were on full alert. He could feel his heartbeat pounding out the rhythm Suzie, Suzie, Suzie. It was almost noon, and the sun was fighting hard against the last of the morning haze, brief patches slightly obscuring his vision as he looked first to the right, then the left. A slight thump against the fence reminded him of Ianto’s presence. Give us something to hunt, Sweet Sue. His fingers tightened around his gun, aching to pull the trigger. Give me your death.
The faintest of breezes stirred the clothesline, and behind it … “Left!” he hissed through the fence, and took off. A flash of wool behind a child’s swingset, Suzie’s low derisive laughter chasing out the sound of Ianto on the other side of the fence and the sound of his own blood pumping through his veins, and then she came to the low wall between the two back gardens. She turned, and he moved to the right as if following a divine directive, her bullet just missing him. He took aim and fired as she scrambled to climb the wall. He clipped her ankle and she fell heavily to the other side.
“Ianto! Get in here!” he yelled, exuberant. So close. SO CLOSE. He ran to the wall, dodging another bullet. He could hear Ianto swear in the next garden as Suzie fired at him, too. Jack’s blood momentarily froze. Surely she hadn’t…
He threw himself at the wall, hauling himself over in time to see Suzie take off at a listing run, Ianto fast on her heels. Jack hopped to the ground as they rounded the front of the house. He slipped in the dew and blood before gaining traction. He had taken but three steps when a gunshot rang out once more, followed by a quick smattering of gun fire and the squealing of tires.
Jack skidded to a halt at the front of the house. A Cardiff police car was disappearing around the corner. Ianto knelt in the grass, blood welling up between his hands, pressed to the neck of the DI Jack had seen at the murder scene just yesterday. His lips were moving, reassuring the injured woman or calling for help, Jack could not tell. All he could see was that Suzie was no longer there.
He turned away. Sirens sounded in the distance, coming ever closer, but his head was filled with the sound of Suzie’s name and the memory of her derisive laughter.
Part Five
Author: blue_fjords
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Gwen, Jack, Ianto, Tosh, Rhys, Owen, PC Andy, Kathy Swanson, Suzie
Words: ~2,000 (this part)
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: AU Crime Novel w/ alternating PC Gwen Cooper and CIA Agent Jack Harkness chapters. Each section contains a chapter (lengths may vary) from Gwen and Jack.
A/N: Thanks awfully to my beta, paragraphs -- she's a superstar! This section features a little Owen, and a little action. Title from Emily Dickinson.
Gwen
“-then you can share with me! Until then, Ms. I-Need-to-Know-Everything, I’m not telling you nothing!”
The tinny voice floated down the hall to her, carried by the building’s pipes, and Gwen couldn’t catch the response. She picked up her pace regardless and wrenched open the door to Dr. Harper’s autopsy bay. The female Interpol agent was with Harper, scowling at him over the body of Mark Brisco. They both turned at Gwen’s entrance.
“Oi! You can’t come in here dressed like that! Out! Out!” Dr. Harper brandished his finger at her, and Gwen glanced down at her uniform, taken aback. The other two were wearing little gown coveralls and haircaps and masks. “Sorry,” she muttered.
She ducked back outside and hurriedly donned her own blue outfit before re-entering.
“Oi! Did I say you could come in?” Harper scowled at her over his mask, and Gwen dug her heels in.
“Ignore him, PC Cooper. DI Swanson phoned ahead.” The Interpol agent stepped forward, holding out her hand. “Toshiko Sato, Interpol. It’s nice to see you again,” she said, conveniently brushing aside that they had not really met. Gwen shook her hand gladly before turning to Dr. Harper.
“We haven’t met yet. PC Gwen Cooper.” Harper barely touched his own latex fingers to hers before turning back to the body.
“Anyone else you want to invite over? He’s a fascinating corpse; you could all have a go.”
Gwen gave him a placating smile, then realized it was a moot point with her mask on. “Dr. Harper,” she tried instead, “DI Swanson told me you had some very sensitive information? I won’t lay one finger on the corpse,” she promised solemnly, inwardly shuddering at the idea of cutting open Mark Brisco’s body. His skin had been cleaned of the mud and filth of the alley, but he was still a gray, bloated corpse.
Harper snorted loudly. Gwen hoped he choked on his own spit. “Of course you won’t lay one finger on the corpse! You’re a fucking copper, not a pathologist.” She stiffened her knees as he took a step towards her. “And as for sensitive information, maybe I have something, maybe I don’t. If your friends at Interpol would share - ”
“I’ve already told you, Dr. Harper,” Toshiko interjected, crossing her arms, “I will tell you as much as you need to know. There are regulations here, and the Cardiff police have already agreed to cooperate. They’re here now, so if you would be so kind - ” And she gestured angrily at the body.
Gwen looked back and forth between the two of them. Finally Harper spat out a “Fine.” He pulled down the sheet and indicated the hole in Mark Brisco’s chest. “Look here.” Gwen and Toshiko both peered at the jagged opening. “See, it was made by a serrated edge. Is that consistent with your other murders?” he asked Toshiko.
She shook her head. “No. Each wound has been different, no two weapons the same, which has made it difficult to tie them all together.”
Harper raised a brow. “You sure about that? Look.” Gwen exchanged a startled glance with Toshiko, then both women leaned closer. Gwen was profoundly glad for the face mask to prevent at least a small bit of the disinfectant smell from reaching her. “See, right there?” Harper continued, pointing to the tiniest dot on one of Mark Brisco’s ribs. “That was made by a needle, at the time of death, as far as I can tell. Maybe your weapons aren’t the same, but tell me, Agent Sato Ma’am,” and he rocked back on his heels, “do you have needle punctures?”
Gwen met Toshiko’s eyes. She could tell the other woman didn’t know the answer. Yet. “Thank you for your help, Dr. Harper,” Toshiko stated, rather formally. “It’s possible we’ll want to confer with you further on this case.”
Harper hitched his shoulders irritably. “I bet you will.”
“Why would she do that? The killer, I mean?” Gwen asked, staving off another argument. “What would she get from the bone - marrow, right?”
The other two stared at her, and she winced. She’d called the killer “she,” meaning “Emily Dickinson,” which was obviously not so. “Um, why would the killer puncture a bone?” she backtracked.
Toshiko was still watching her consideringly, but it was Harper who answered. “How the fuck would I know? You lot deal with motivations.” He picked up an envelope from a side table. “Here,” he said, handing it to Gwen, “photos for your DI Swanson. Can’t say I never did nothing for you.”
Gwen took it with a mumbled thanks as Toshiko’s mobile went off. She turned her back on them to answer, and Harper moved in a little closer. Gwen could smell his aftershave, strangely sweet overlaying the tang of disinfectant and chemicals. She wished she could see if his mouth was smirking. Her mobile vibrated under the little gown, and she smirked to herself, stepping away from Harper to answer.
“What the hell, Gwen? Exactly how long was I supposed to hold a seat for you, yeah?”
Gwen flinched. She had completely forgotten about Andy. “Andy, I’m so sorry, but DI Swanson had me do something for her -”
“Swanson? Bzzzzzz. Try again.”
“She did Andy, promise,” she whispered back. She could feel Harper’s eyes on the back of her neck. “She was going to court.”
“Well, she didn’t stay there,” Andy shot back. “Smith was over there, and he just told me the DI left right before testifying and tore off in the opposite direction.”
Gwen blinked. “That doesn’t make sense.”
Toshiko entered her field of vision. “We need to leave NOW, PC Cooper.”
Gwen frowned into the phone. “I’m sorry Andy, I’ll have to call you back.” She clicked it closed without waiting for a response - make that three rounds you owe him, Cooper - and looked over at Toshiko.
“Our killer’s been spotted.”
Jack
Ianto got the call when they were still in the stairwell leading up to Room 456. Jack started at the touch of the other man’s fingers on his arm, but Ianto’s white face stopped him from making one of a half dozen quips that flew to his mind.
“Woman matching Suzie’s description has been spotted over on Brynheulog,” Ianto hissed, mobile pressed to his ear. Jack turned and practically flew down the stairs, Ianto fast on his heels.
“You know where that is, right?” he threw over his shoulder as his feet slammed onto the final landing.
“It’s very close.” Ianto caught up to him as they ran out of the hospital. “It’s mainly residential; there’s a school of some kind there.”
Jack jumped into the passenger side of the SUV and willed Ianto to drive faster. His heart thudded painfully in his chest. His mind’s eye was filled with Alex’s face, the last time he’d seen him alive. Alex, of the incredibly dry wit, morose little smile and overwhelming sense of duty. Alex had been serious about being an Agent, he’d been one of the best, and Suzie Costello had cut him down. Jack flexed his fingers, reached down and drew his gun. Ianto glanced down at it, but all he said was “Hang on,” as they skidded around a curve.
“Look out!” Jack yelled. A nondescript sedan was broken down right in front of them. Ianto swerved hard, crossing the line and slamming the brakes, stopping a finger’s breadth before plowing into someone’s back garden. Jack grabbed his hand as he began shifting into reverse. “Wait.” He stared at the sedan. “I don’t think -”
A tiny *ping* sounded behind them, followed by a crash as the glass in the back seat’s window shattered.
“Fuck!” Jack swore, kicking open his car door. “Come on!” He reached behind him, pulling Ianto along. Ianto looked a mite dazed, and Jack spared a fleeting thought to wonder how many times the younger man had been in a shootout. He made a silent vow that Ianto would live to be stoic in his next one. He crouched low, and pulled Ianto behind the front tire with him.
“She’s behind that brown fence,” Ianto whispered, holding his own gun steady. Jack blinked once at his hands, then focused on the fence.
“It’s too high,” he decided, “and depending on what’s on the other side, a bullet’s not going to reach her. We have to get closer. Follow my lead.”
He took a deep breath and cautiously peered around the front of the SUV. The brown fence was about six feet tall, and added to the slight ditch they were in, all he could make out above the fence was one scraggly tree and a clothesline. Ianto touched his shoulder, and Jack turned, almost knocking foreheads. Jack could smell coffee and mouthwash on Ianto’s breath as he whispered, “Reinforcements are coming. I’ve texted our position.”
Jack shook his head. “No. That’s Suzie Costello in there, this close to the hospital. We are running out of time and I will not wait.” He knew his voice was harsh, but he couldn’t help it. Ianto hesitated for a moment, and Jack felt his throat constrict.
“All right,” he said finally.
Jack grinned fiercely, a feral baring of the teeth, nothing more. “I’m going through the fence. You stay outside the fence in case she slips out. Tell those reinforcements to come from the front.” He didn’t wait for agreement before sprinting for the door in the fence. Ianto swore behind him before taking off, and he could hear the other man’s footfalls squeaking in the dewy grass as he slowly drew open the door, gun in first, then the rest of him.
His eyes and ears were on full alert. He could feel his heartbeat pounding out the rhythm Suzie, Suzie, Suzie. It was almost noon, and the sun was fighting hard against the last of the morning haze, brief patches slightly obscuring his vision as he looked first to the right, then the left. A slight thump against the fence reminded him of Ianto’s presence. Give us something to hunt, Sweet Sue. His fingers tightened around his gun, aching to pull the trigger. Give me your death.
The faintest of breezes stirred the clothesline, and behind it … “Left!” he hissed through the fence, and took off. A flash of wool behind a child’s swingset, Suzie’s low derisive laughter chasing out the sound of Ianto on the other side of the fence and the sound of his own blood pumping through his veins, and then she came to the low wall between the two back gardens. She turned, and he moved to the right as if following a divine directive, her bullet just missing him. He took aim and fired as she scrambled to climb the wall. He clipped her ankle and she fell heavily to the other side.
“Ianto! Get in here!” he yelled, exuberant. So close. SO CLOSE. He ran to the wall, dodging another bullet. He could hear Ianto swear in the next garden as Suzie fired at him, too. Jack’s blood momentarily froze. Surely she hadn’t…
He threw himself at the wall, hauling himself over in time to see Suzie take off at a listing run, Ianto fast on her heels. Jack hopped to the ground as they rounded the front of the house. He slipped in the dew and blood before gaining traction. He had taken but three steps when a gunshot rang out once more, followed by a quick smattering of gun fire and the squealing of tires.
Jack skidded to a halt at the front of the house. A Cardiff police car was disappearing around the corner. Ianto knelt in the grass, blood welling up between his hands, pressed to the neck of the DI Jack had seen at the murder scene just yesterday. His lips were moving, reassuring the injured woman or calling for help, Jack could not tell. All he could see was that Suzie was no longer there.
He turned away. Sirens sounded in the distance, coming ever closer, but his head was filled with the sound of Suzie’s name and the memory of her derisive laughter.
Part Five