112
He was confused and it was an emotion he did not like. Particularly while on the job, confusion could get you killed.
It had already gotten him killed. Because his partner had shown confusion, been chosen the weaker of them and then tortured to death in front of him.
The last thing he remembered was the pain that came from a neurointerupter applied by the hands of a master. He could hear the sound of his own screaming, echoing with his partner's last cries, in his skull. Pain, physical and emotional, put him in a bad mood.
A very bad mood.
He'd found one of them asleep on the couch, files surrounding him. He'd have rather grabbed one of the important members of the society that had captured him but a file drone could be useful.
Knocking the man out with a swift, well placed side chop of his hand, he swung him up on his shoulder, grabbed the laptop that was open in front of him and bolted. He had no idea where he was going to take his prizes but he knew staying was dangerous.
Rope, gaffer tape and water were procured at various points in his travels so when he arrived at what felt like a safe spot, he was ready to deliver a little torture of his own.
Setting his captive up on a chair, he tied the man up with the rope around his torso and legs, then gaffer tapped his hands down to the arms of the chair. Testing the bindings to ensure they were secure, he went and grabbed a water bottle.
Taking a couple of swallows, he stood in front of his captive and squeezed the water square in his face.
"Wakey, wakey, pretty boy."
The last thing Ianto remembered was working on some data, comparing some of the creatures they'd studied in the past, and feeling rather tired, had decided to close his eyes, just for a moment. It had lasted a little longer than a moment, it seemed.
Ianto had experienced rude awakenings by Jack's hand many times before, but he could honestly say that he'd never been woken up by water in his face before. For a moment or two, he was disorientated, wondering why he was in a chair, rather than on the couch, and why he seemed to be soaking wet.
Then came the question of why he was bound to a chair, and why the back of his neck ached insistently.
He started, his arms and legs jerking against the rope, and his hands twisting under the tape as he tried to get free, almost rocking the chair with the force. He was very well bound, he could tell, even with what he'd been taught by Jack, it would take him a while to get free. And he wouldn't be able to at all if he had company.
Which reminded him that he'd heard a voice, and he looked up to find the source, not expecting who he saw at all. "Jack," he said, relaxing a little, "help me out of this would you?"
The struggling amused him. He always loved those first moments, when they woke up and realized that their body was no long theirs to control but his. Standing comfortably in front of the younger man, he lifted the water bottle to his lips and polished it off. The liquid tasted delicious after spending almost two weeks licking what he could off his cell walls.
"Who?" He said dismissively. "I didn't hit you that hard so no playing the 'oh I'm confused' card, this isn't my first galactic hypervodka fest."
Finished with the bottle, he screwed the cap on the top in a lazy motion and then, quick as a snake he hurled the plastic towards the man's chest. The intent was for the surprise to knock him off guard and when he looked back up, there he was, right in his face.
"Now, see ... I'm going to ask the questions and you..." he very lightly poked his finger at the rope tried around Ianto's chest. "Are going to be a good little boy and answer them."
The agent smiled, it was a very unpleasant expression and he leaned over close, whispering against his ear.
"Because if you don't, I'm going to get to play."
At very first, Ianto thought this may have been one of Jack's games, but it felt so very wrong, that he doubted it. Yes, Jack could get very creative, and as he'd said to Martha, bordering on the avant garde, but he always stopped if there was any sign of him, and indeed now Kyle, not liking it.
But he thought he'd better try anyway. "I don't like this one, Jack," he said clearly, sitting up straight with his back flush against the chair, only to be distracted by that bottle bouncing off his chest.
And then Jack's face was in his. Okay, not a game.
He'd never heard that tone in Jack's voice before, and Ianto was beginning to think that this wasn't Jack as he knew him. He didn't turn a hair as the man wearing Jack's face hissed those words at him, and he didn't move when he was poked in the chest.
One last try. "I think you must be cursed."
A fist closed hard, forearm tensing as the desire to strike rushed through his large body but something held him back and reared away from the young man bound to the chair before he gave into the urge to punch.
"I'd say you're the one cursed. With some rotten luck. Talk about wrong place and time, I'd much rather have had one of your superiors but an office drone can be of use."
As he spoke, he walked towards where the laptop was set up, reaching to type on it's keyboard.
"At least you'd better hope you can give me what I want. Why are you using such archaic technology," the last was muttered to himself in confusion as he worked the computer.
Office drone?
Even if it wasn't Jack as such, that one stung and Ianto scowled. Administrator he could be, but office drone he was not.
The thing that Ianto was most taken aback over was the fist raised at him. Jack had never physically hit him or anything like that, even when Ianto had punched him in the jaw on the Plass, so the shock was probably evident.
"I don't know who you think you are," he said, not entirely sure what was going to happen, "but I know you as Captain Jack Harkness, leader of Torchwood Three." He twisted his hands under the tape while the other man seemed to be distracted by his laptop.
Hopefully the 'archaic technology' would keep him occupied enough not to notice. "I've known you for three and a half years, and you are my superior."
"'Superior' well that's evident," he said coldly.
It might have appeared that he was unaware of what was going on behind him up unto the point where he suddenly spun around and kicked out at the underside of the chair. Catching it on his instep, in between the younger man's legs, he kicked it up and back.
Tied as Ianto was, there was no risk of his arms getting caught under the chair and Jack's leg never touched him but it was probable that the wind got knocked out of him when the chair landed.
Slow and deliberately, he stepped over the now prone figure, straddling him very much in a position of dominance and power.
"Try that again and I'll cut them off," he said in a tone that showed the idea of cutting off this man's hands at the wrists was as sensible to him as simply tying him up in the first place.
Surprise didn't even begin to describe it when the chair overturned and hit the floor, and Ianto cried out on shock as the air left his body. He struggled for a moment or two to try and draw breath, having just enough sense left to watch the man who wasn't Jack's movements.
As the man stood astride him, Ianto looked him directly in the eye which he knew was probably a bold move. But in the same moment, he didn't doubt for a second that yes, he would cut his hands off, so all escape attempts were put on hold in his mind for that moment.
Even with Jack as he knew him, Ianto was thoroughly out-matched, and Ianto rather thought that this man wouldn't have any trouble doing things Jack wouldn't do.
But even as he tried to disassociate the two, this man had Jack's body, was wearing Jack's face and Jack had once been him. "I won't try it again," he said plainly.
There was no recognition in the hard blue eyes that stared down at Ianto even if there was a shadow of something that seemed to be keeping him from connecting an actual physical blow.
Leaning down, he grabbed the man by the rope around his chest and hauled man and chair back up onto the chair's legs.
"We'll start with an easy one," he said, as if rewarding Ianto for being a good boy. Pointing towards the computer, he arched an eyebrow. "What is this?"
It made it easier on Ianto that this wasn't Jack, and he kept that thought in his mind. Not Jack, therefore it wasn't Jack doing this to him.
His world dizzyingly changed direction as those strong hands yanked him upright, and Ianto had to get his bearings before he could even think about answering Jack's question.
He turned his head to look, and was a little confused by Jack's lack of knowledge. "...a laptop?"
The difficult truth was, this was Jack. At least, it was part of who he had been at one time, before he met the Doctor. The Jack Ianto knew wrestled with this phantom in his psyche at times, particularly at moments when his team was threatened.
"Why would you be using such an ancient piece of equipment? Particularly since your group wanted information on the..."
His voice trailed off as the item he'd been about to mention slipped off his tongue and beyond his grasp. Information on the ... what had it been again? Obviously important, given the lengths their best man had gone to in an attempt to get him to talk about it but he couldn't remember.
This sent a flare of rage through him and he spun at Ianto. Stalking him, sensual lips curled into a feral sort of snarl as he paced around the bound figure.
"You know," he began to speak as if telling a story. "Torture really is a waste of time with me. People like you always think it's going to get me to talk because you have the credit to hire the best in this system but it never works. And you know why?"
Here he had timed himself so that he was right behind the younger man, a fingertip lightly brushing back and forth across Ianto's vulnerable neck.
"Because it just gives me new ideas."
Ianto knew to an extent, that this had once been Jack. Little things he'd seen, the things Jack had told him and observing John made it apparent, but Jack wasn't that man, this man anymore. Jack wouldn't treat people he cared about like this.
"It's the most adva--" he was cut off by Jack's sudden change in movement, and Ianto felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise as the man stalked around him. Trouble was, bound like he was there was no chance of fight or flight.
He didn't say a word the whole time Jack was speaking, listening as the man spoke of torture, and Ianto was a little proud that he didn't flinch when Jack's finger made contact with the skin on his neck.
And for Jack's last statement, well, Ianto couldn't think of any words to say.
"Idiot office drones," he said with genuine distaste in his tone. Straightening, he walked away from the bound man, considering his options.
He should have brought the neurointeruptor with him but he'd slipped up with that so that left improvising.
Nodding, he walked back to the front of his bound captive and leaned down. Deft fingers reached under Ianto's chin and began to undo his tie. It was an act that Jack, as a lover, had performed many times in the past but somehow, this time even his touch could be alien.
Once he had the tie, he neatly knotted it into a little noose and reached down to thread the head of the noose around Ianto's little finger. It would be disturbingly easy to break every bone in his finger using that bit of fabric, nice and slow and easy.
"You know, I was going to give you a chance to answer my questions and save us both this trouble," he began casually. "But you're just not coming across as being all too promising in terms of information. So we'll just loosen up your tongue a little to start with, then you might make some noises I'd like to hear."
The silk tightened threateningly around Ianto's finger and the agent braced one hand on Ianto's arm, the other fisting the silk. He was about to yank when the laptop made a chirping noise.
Usually when Jack undid his tie, there would be smiles and flirting and innuendo abounds. But not this time, not when the hands touching him felt cold, and like a strangers.
Ianto watched in some kind of horrified fascination as Jack created the little noose out of the silk and slid the fabric over his finger. The trouble was, even if Jack had questions, there was no way Ianto would be able to answer them, considering it seemed like Jack had been taken back to a point in his past. He also thought that Jack wouldn't react well to an answer of 'I don't know'.
Knowing the inevitable, Ianto gritted his teeth and looked away, only the expected crunch of his bones and pain never came. Jack's presence left his side, and Ianto dared a look.
Ah, his laptop. Saved by the chirrup, or perhaps not when Jack realized exactly what that sound meant.
It took him a couple of minutes to realize what the laptop was doing and what had caused the noise. No he wasn't happy and he whirled at Ianto.
"What did you..." he began, snarling through his teeth and striding towards the younger man with pure murder in his eyes.
Ianto had never, ever seen that look on Jack's face before, and he could honestly say that the sight terrified him. His breath caught in his chest and his hands clenched reflexively on the arms of the chair.
Until that point, he'd merely been wary. Now, he was completely scared.
"Nothing," he said, barely managing to keep his voice straight, "last I recall is waking up strapped to this chair. How could I have done anything?"
In an instant Jack's expression went from cold, murderous rage to confusion and then back but as it swung back, wariness replaced the ready desire to inflict injury on Ianto and the bigger man stopped and pushed his hands into his pockets.
It was a sign of uncertainty, twisted into an aggressive stance. Agency training.
"Who is it transmitting to," he asked in a flat, icy voice.
Watching the expressions move across Jack's face, Ianto didn't dare move, even when it became evident that Jack didn't want to inflict any kind of physical harm on Ianto. It seemed as though the man wanted to, but something was stopping him.
A flicker of hope dashed through that maybe Jack was fighting this curse, deep inside.
Watching Jack warily as the man asked the question, Ianto shifted so he could see the screen of the laptop properly. He wondered if Jack would go raging after Gwen and Kyle and Abby if he told him about the house, and wondered how long he could stall the man.
"I can't tell from here."
An eyebrow slowly arched. At home, Jack's eyebrows were usually indicators of a playful mood or a bit of silliness but there was none of that in his expression now. Just cold, ruthless disbelief.
Once again, Jack's whole body tensed as if to unleash an explosion of violence against the man bound helpless to the chair but like before, something stopped him. Taking a deep breath, Jack pointed a very deliberate finger at the laptop.
"Who is it transmitting to," he repeated, very slowly as if Ianto were a child who needed special instruction. "Think, very carefully before you answer."
Because if Ianto lied to him again...
[ooc: Jack is cursed with 'Shell-shock' and has reverted back to a time before he met the Doctor and was still working for the Agency. He has kidnapped Ianto -thinking he's part of the group who captured, tortured himself and his friend as mentioned in the episode Captain Jack Harkness. He's taken Ianto to an undisclosed location with the intent of torturing him for information but Ianto's laptop is providing a video feed out to the whole Net so comments can be voice or text comment. Everything behind the cut was visible to anyone who would be watching feed from Ianto's machine.
PS: Kidnapping done with permission of Ianto!mun. No Iantos were harmed yet! in the making of this post. :)]
It had already gotten him killed. Because his partner had shown confusion, been chosen the weaker of them and then tortured to death in front of him.
The last thing he remembered was the pain that came from a neurointerupter applied by the hands of a master. He could hear the sound of his own screaming, echoing with his partner's last cries, in his skull. Pain, physical and emotional, put him in a bad mood.
A very bad mood.
He'd found one of them asleep on the couch, files surrounding him. He'd have rather grabbed one of the important members of the society that had captured him but a file drone could be useful.
Knocking the man out with a swift, well placed side chop of his hand, he swung him up on his shoulder, grabbed the laptop that was open in front of him and bolted. He had no idea where he was going to take his prizes but he knew staying was dangerous.
Rope, gaffer tape and water were procured at various points in his travels so when he arrived at what felt like a safe spot, he was ready to deliver a little torture of his own.
Setting his captive up on a chair, he tied the man up with the rope around his torso and legs, then gaffer tapped his hands down to the arms of the chair. Testing the bindings to ensure they were secure, he went and grabbed a water bottle.
Taking a couple of swallows, he stood in front of his captive and squeezed the water square in his face.
"Wakey, wakey, pretty boy."
The last thing Ianto remembered was working on some data, comparing some of the creatures they'd studied in the past, and feeling rather tired, had decided to close his eyes, just for a moment. It had lasted a little longer than a moment, it seemed.
Ianto had experienced rude awakenings by Jack's hand many times before, but he could honestly say that he'd never been woken up by water in his face before. For a moment or two, he was disorientated, wondering why he was in a chair, rather than on the couch, and why he seemed to be soaking wet.
Then came the question of why he was bound to a chair, and why the back of his neck ached insistently.
He started, his arms and legs jerking against the rope, and his hands twisting under the tape as he tried to get free, almost rocking the chair with the force. He was very well bound, he could tell, even with what he'd been taught by Jack, it would take him a while to get free. And he wouldn't be able to at all if he had company.
Which reminded him that he'd heard a voice, and he looked up to find the source, not expecting who he saw at all. "Jack," he said, relaxing a little, "help me out of this would you?"
The struggling amused him. He always loved those first moments, when they woke up and realized that their body was no long theirs to control but his. Standing comfortably in front of the younger man, he lifted the water bottle to his lips and polished it off. The liquid tasted delicious after spending almost two weeks licking what he could off his cell walls.
"Who?" He said dismissively. "I didn't hit you that hard so no playing the 'oh I'm confused' card, this isn't my first galactic hypervodka fest."
Finished with the bottle, he screwed the cap on the top in a lazy motion and then, quick as a snake he hurled the plastic towards the man's chest. The intent was for the surprise to knock him off guard and when he looked back up, there he was, right in his face.
"Now, see ... I'm going to ask the questions and you..." he very lightly poked his finger at the rope tried around Ianto's chest. "Are going to be a good little boy and answer them."
The agent smiled, it was a very unpleasant expression and he leaned over close, whispering against his ear.
"Because if you don't, I'm going to get to play."
At very first, Ianto thought this may have been one of Jack's games, but it felt so very wrong, that he doubted it. Yes, Jack could get very creative, and as he'd said to Martha, bordering on the avant garde, but he always stopped if there was any sign of him, and indeed now Kyle, not liking it.
But he thought he'd better try anyway. "I don't like this one, Jack," he said clearly, sitting up straight with his back flush against the chair, only to be distracted by that bottle bouncing off his chest.
And then Jack's face was in his. Okay, not a game.
He'd never heard that tone in Jack's voice before, and Ianto was beginning to think that this wasn't Jack as he knew him. He didn't turn a hair as the man wearing Jack's face hissed those words at him, and he didn't move when he was poked in the chest.
One last try. "I think you must be cursed."
A fist closed hard, forearm tensing as the desire to strike rushed through his large body but something held him back and reared away from the young man bound to the chair before he gave into the urge to punch.
"I'd say you're the one cursed. With some rotten luck. Talk about wrong place and time, I'd much rather have had one of your superiors but an office drone can be of use."
As he spoke, he walked towards where the laptop was set up, reaching to type on it's keyboard.
"At least you'd better hope you can give me what I want. Why are you using such archaic technology," the last was muttered to himself in confusion as he worked the computer.
Office drone?
Even if it wasn't Jack as such, that one stung and Ianto scowled. Administrator he could be, but office drone he was not.
The thing that Ianto was most taken aback over was the fist raised at him. Jack had never physically hit him or anything like that, even when Ianto had punched him in the jaw on the Plass, so the shock was probably evident.
"I don't know who you think you are," he said, not entirely sure what was going to happen, "but I know you as Captain Jack Harkness, leader of Torchwood Three." He twisted his hands under the tape while the other man seemed to be distracted by his laptop.
Hopefully the 'archaic technology' would keep him occupied enough not to notice. "I've known you for three and a half years, and you are my superior."
"'Superior' well that's evident," he said coldly.
It might have appeared that he was unaware of what was going on behind him up unto the point where he suddenly spun around and kicked out at the underside of the chair. Catching it on his instep, in between the younger man's legs, he kicked it up and back.
Tied as Ianto was, there was no risk of his arms getting caught under the chair and Jack's leg never touched him but it was probable that the wind got knocked out of him when the chair landed.
Slow and deliberately, he stepped over the now prone figure, straddling him very much in a position of dominance and power.
"Try that again and I'll cut them off," he said in a tone that showed the idea of cutting off this man's hands at the wrists was as sensible to him as simply tying him up in the first place.
Surprise didn't even begin to describe it when the chair overturned and hit the floor, and Ianto cried out on shock as the air left his body. He struggled for a moment or two to try and draw breath, having just enough sense left to watch the man who wasn't Jack's movements.
As the man stood astride him, Ianto looked him directly in the eye which he knew was probably a bold move. But in the same moment, he didn't doubt for a second that yes, he would cut his hands off, so all escape attempts were put on hold in his mind for that moment.
Even with Jack as he knew him, Ianto was thoroughly out-matched, and Ianto rather thought that this man wouldn't have any trouble doing things Jack wouldn't do.
But even as he tried to disassociate the two, this man had Jack's body, was wearing Jack's face and Jack had once been him. "I won't try it again," he said plainly.
There was no recognition in the hard blue eyes that stared down at Ianto even if there was a shadow of something that seemed to be keeping him from connecting an actual physical blow.
Leaning down, he grabbed the man by the rope around his chest and hauled man and chair back up onto the chair's legs.
"We'll start with an easy one," he said, as if rewarding Ianto for being a good boy. Pointing towards the computer, he arched an eyebrow. "What is this?"
It made it easier on Ianto that this wasn't Jack, and he kept that thought in his mind. Not Jack, therefore it wasn't Jack doing this to him.
His world dizzyingly changed direction as those strong hands yanked him upright, and Ianto had to get his bearings before he could even think about answering Jack's question.
He turned his head to look, and was a little confused by Jack's lack of knowledge. "...a laptop?"
The difficult truth was, this was Jack. At least, it was part of who he had been at one time, before he met the Doctor. The Jack Ianto knew wrestled with this phantom in his psyche at times, particularly at moments when his team was threatened.
"Why would you be using such an ancient piece of equipment? Particularly since your group wanted information on the..."
His voice trailed off as the item he'd been about to mention slipped off his tongue and beyond his grasp. Information on the ... what had it been again? Obviously important, given the lengths their best man had gone to in an attempt to get him to talk about it but he couldn't remember.
This sent a flare of rage through him and he spun at Ianto. Stalking him, sensual lips curled into a feral sort of snarl as he paced around the bound figure.
"You know," he began to speak as if telling a story. "Torture really is a waste of time with me. People like you always think it's going to get me to talk because you have the credit to hire the best in this system but it never works. And you know why?"
Here he had timed himself so that he was right behind the younger man, a fingertip lightly brushing back and forth across Ianto's vulnerable neck.
"Because it just gives me new ideas."
Ianto knew to an extent, that this had once been Jack. Little things he'd seen, the things Jack had told him and observing John made it apparent, but Jack wasn't that man, this man anymore. Jack wouldn't treat people he cared about like this.
"It's the most adva--" he was cut off by Jack's sudden change in movement, and Ianto felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise as the man stalked around him. Trouble was, bound like he was there was no chance of fight or flight.
He didn't say a word the whole time Jack was speaking, listening as the man spoke of torture, and Ianto was a little proud that he didn't flinch when Jack's finger made contact with the skin on his neck.
And for Jack's last statement, well, Ianto couldn't think of any words to say.
"Idiot office drones," he said with genuine distaste in his tone. Straightening, he walked away from the bound man, considering his options.
He should have brought the neurointeruptor with him but he'd slipped up with that so that left improvising.
Nodding, he walked back to the front of his bound captive and leaned down. Deft fingers reached under Ianto's chin and began to undo his tie. It was an act that Jack, as a lover, had performed many times in the past but somehow, this time even his touch could be alien.
Once he had the tie, he neatly knotted it into a little noose and reached down to thread the head of the noose around Ianto's little finger. It would be disturbingly easy to break every bone in his finger using that bit of fabric, nice and slow and easy.
"You know, I was going to give you a chance to answer my questions and save us both this trouble," he began casually. "But you're just not coming across as being all too promising in terms of information. So we'll just loosen up your tongue a little to start with, then you might make some noises I'd like to hear."
The silk tightened threateningly around Ianto's finger and the agent braced one hand on Ianto's arm, the other fisting the silk. He was about to yank when the laptop made a chirping noise.
Usually when Jack undid his tie, there would be smiles and flirting and innuendo abounds. But not this time, not when the hands touching him felt cold, and like a strangers.
Ianto watched in some kind of horrified fascination as Jack created the little noose out of the silk and slid the fabric over his finger. The trouble was, even if Jack had questions, there was no way Ianto would be able to answer them, considering it seemed like Jack had been taken back to a point in his past. He also thought that Jack wouldn't react well to an answer of 'I don't know'.
Knowing the inevitable, Ianto gritted his teeth and looked away, only the expected crunch of his bones and pain never came. Jack's presence left his side, and Ianto dared a look.
Ah, his laptop. Saved by the chirrup, or perhaps not when Jack realized exactly what that sound meant.
It took him a couple of minutes to realize what the laptop was doing and what had caused the noise. No he wasn't happy and he whirled at Ianto.
"What did you..." he began, snarling through his teeth and striding towards the younger man with pure murder in his eyes.
Ianto had never, ever seen that look on Jack's face before, and he could honestly say that the sight terrified him. His breath caught in his chest and his hands clenched reflexively on the arms of the chair.
Until that point, he'd merely been wary. Now, he was completely scared.
"Nothing," he said, barely managing to keep his voice straight, "last I recall is waking up strapped to this chair. How could I have done anything?"
In an instant Jack's expression went from cold, murderous rage to confusion and then back but as it swung back, wariness replaced the ready desire to inflict injury on Ianto and the bigger man stopped and pushed his hands into his pockets.
It was a sign of uncertainty, twisted into an aggressive stance. Agency training.
"Who is it transmitting to," he asked in a flat, icy voice.
Watching the expressions move across Jack's face, Ianto didn't dare move, even when it became evident that Jack didn't want to inflict any kind of physical harm on Ianto. It seemed as though the man wanted to, but something was stopping him.
A flicker of hope dashed through that maybe Jack was fighting this curse, deep inside.
Watching Jack warily as the man asked the question, Ianto shifted so he could see the screen of the laptop properly. He wondered if Jack would go raging after Gwen and Kyle and Abby if he told him about the house, and wondered how long he could stall the man.
"I can't tell from here."
An eyebrow slowly arched. At home, Jack's eyebrows were usually indicators of a playful mood or a bit of silliness but there was none of that in his expression now. Just cold, ruthless disbelief.
Once again, Jack's whole body tensed as if to unleash an explosion of violence against the man bound helpless to the chair but like before, something stopped him. Taking a deep breath, Jack pointed a very deliberate finger at the laptop.
"Who is it transmitting to," he repeated, very slowly as if Ianto were a child who needed special instruction. "Think, very carefully before you answer."
Because if Ianto lied to him again...
[ooc: Jack is cursed with 'Shell-shock' and has reverted back to a time before he met the Doctor and was still working for the Agency. He has kidnapped Ianto -thinking he's part of the group who captured, tortured himself and his friend as mentioned in the episode Captain Jack Harkness. He's taken Ianto to an undisclosed location with the intent of torturing him for information but Ianto's laptop is providing a video feed out to the whole Net so comments can be voice or text comment. Everything behind the cut was visible to anyone who would be watching feed from Ianto's machine.
PS: Kidnapping done with permission of Ianto!mun. No Iantos were harmed yet! in the making of this post. :)]