[fic] Bloody Torchwood (7/18)
Title: Bloody Torchwood (7/18)
Author: noscrubs12345
sirius100 Prompt: Variations on Reality (original)
Pairings: Remus/Sirius, Jack/Ianto
Rating: PG-13/T
Summary: Sirius Black knew there was something he didn't like about Cardiff. He just didn't expect it to be a rift in time and space. But, once taken, will he be able to make it back to the wizarding world? Or will he be stuck with bloody Torchwood if his friends don't find him first? And what does a mysterious blonde woman have to do with the strange blue box hidden inside the Department of Mysteries?
Warnings: crossover, spoilers through Torchwood series two and Doctor Who series four
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, Russell T Davies, the BBC, various publishers, including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended and no money is being made.
Missed the beginning?: Part I || Part II || Part III || Part IV || Part V || Part VI
or
Bloody Torchwood @ AO3
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“She wasn’t like anyone I’ve ever met. There was something of the wolf about her, but she burned like the sun instead of the moon,” Remus said quietly, unable to meet Dumbledore’s stare. “I could barely stand to look at her.”
“How?” James asked sharply. “How can this not be Voldemort’s doing? Things falling from the sky, people disappearing, and a werewolf who isn’t a proper werewolf-it’s madness.”
“But yet there is elegance in even the maddest of situations.” Dumbledore looked between them. “These matters are of no concern to Voldemort. If they were, he would have already acted upon them. The thing is, if we don’t stop this from happening then the Order and the Death Eaters won’t matter, like Remus said. The Darkness is coming. It’s not just the end of wizarding Britain as we know it if we allow this to happen, it’s the end of everything. Do you understand that?”
“But what is the Darkness?” Remus asked, voice cracking. “How can we fight it if we don’t know what we’re even up against?”
Dumbledore sighed. He stared past Remus and James and into the flames dancing in the fireplace. “The end of reality. The walls of the universe are breaking down. The space between different realities-some call it Hell, others call it the Void-is seeping through. There’s nothing there. Nothing but darkness and cold. Can you imagine that-absolutely nothing? Because I can’t, and yet there’s something moving inside it trying to get out.”
Remus felt James’s gaze on him and he looked up, meeting his eyes. There was a fear in them that hurt Remus to see, hadn’t seen since Sirius had tricked Snape into going to the Shrieking Shack, and his stomach clenched. He considered what Dumbledore had said, letting it sink in. He looked away when something flickered in James’s eyes.
“Is Sirius in the Darkness?” Remus asked quietly, trying to let James’s hand gripping his forearm ground him.
Dumbledore shook his head. “The Ministry remotely monitors Rift activity in Cardiff. Alastor checked it during his investigation. There was a large enough negative spike this afternoon to indicate it had taken something.”
“Sirius,” James said, voice tense. “So he’s safe?”
“He won’t be out of danger until we can find him,” Dumbledore said gravely. “If we can find him. The Rift returns what it takes, but there’s no way to predict when it will return something or in what state it will be.”
“So what do we do? If we have to move the heavens to find him, we’ll do it. Right, Moony?”
“And the moon,” Remus added. “That thing? The box that appeared in the street?”
Dumbledore smiled, the twinkle in his eye sparkling back to life. “I was hoping one of you would mention that. She’s called a TARDIS-a time and relative dimension in space.”
“She?” James cautioned. “How do we know it’s a she?”
“The TARDIS is a sentient being,” Dumbledore said, giving James a look that said he thought the man was being deliberatly obtuse.
“And we know that how?”
“The box gets inside your head somehow according to what I’ve heard from my contacts in the Department of Mysteries. They claim it feels like it’s grieving, singing a song of lament, and why I do not know. I’d like to get a look for myself before I make my own judgements, though. If we can get inside, we may be able to find a way to pinpoint Sirius’s location.”
“So it’s a sentient piece of technology?” Remus asked and tucked a leg up underneath himself. “Is it charmed?”
“Oh, no, Remus. Not at all.” Remus thought Dumbledore looked like a third year on seeing Honeydukes for the first time. “She’s was grown on a planet called Gallifrey, home to the Time Lords, a race who used TARDISes to travel through time and protect the time lines. However, they died out a long time ago in the future. None survived the Last Great Time War.”
“Assuming that makes sense any sort of sense,” James said, frowning as he too shifted in his chair, “then how could it have ended up here?”
“She fell through time, perhaps,” Dumbledore said absently, stroking his beard. “We won’t know for sure until we can look at it.”
“But the Unspeakables took her,” Remus interjected. “We can’t just waltz into the Department of Mysteries and demand to see it.”
“Of course not,” Dumbledore quipped. “We could just...bend the truth a bit.”
“We could get sent to Azkaban, Albus,” James said, frownining at the man over the rim of his glasses.
“Only if we do anything illegal. Last time I checked, just have little look wasn’t grounds for arrest.”
“If it’s in the Department of Mysteries, it probably is. You know how they’re stepped up security.” James cocked his head to the side, one eyebrow raised. “We’ll never get in. Besides, I doubt ‘just looking’ is what we’ll be doing.”
“Never say never,” Remus said, shooting him a look. “What if this is the only way to find out what happened to Sirius? The only way to get him back? You said you’d do anything!”
James sighed. “I’m going to be a dad soon-I don’t want to risk my kid not knowing me by going to Azkaban and you need an arrest on your record like you need a blue moon. If we get found out, there’s no turning back. We’ll be lucky to get life and, just between us chickens, I don’t fancy a snog with a Dementor.”
“Mr Potter. Mr Lupin,” Dumbledore said sternly and met both their eyes in turn. “If we don’t do something-if we don’t take this chance-we lessen our chances of finding Sirius at all. This may be our only chance. Sometimes, to set things right, one must risk everything.”
“He’d do it for us, James,” Remus said quietly, turning his head towards the man.
“I know. I don’t have to like it, but I know. Ends justify the means, yeah?” He punched Remus’s shoulder playfully. “Yeah?”
“If you say so, Prongs,” he said, smiling bitterly. “Now how do we do it?”
“Leave that to me, boys. I’ll see if I can sort something out, and maybe call in a few favours,” Dumbledore said and rubbed his hands over his knees. Standing, he tucked his hands into the pockets of his robe and smiled down at them. “In the meantime, go home, try to get some rest, and meet me in my office around nine tomorrow morning. That should give me enough time to come up with a plan, all right? Bring Mr Pettigrew. He’s Sirius’s friend too. He should know if something has happened to him.”
Remus and James shared a guilty look but nodded.
“Good,” he said with a smile. “See you tomorrow then, boys.”
His eyes twinkled as he regarded them one last time before disappearing with a “pop.”
James sighed heavily and slumped in his chair. “Sirius couldn’t have just got himself arrested like a normal person?”
Remus chuckled, some of the tension of the day slipping away. “Well, at least he got out of dinner with my auntie.”
James smirked. “Like I said, couldn’t he have gone about it the normal way?”
“This is Padfoot we’re talking about. Nothing he ever does is normal.”
***
“A werewolf?” Harkness asked, laughter in his voice. He rolled his eyes and shared a look with Jones, who only quirked an eyebrow at him. “Really?”
Sirius wanted to knock the shit-eating grin off the American’s face. Hard.
“Yes,” he said instead through clenched teeth, hands curled tightly into fists. Mentally, he counted to ten. It didn’t help. “A werewolf. What’s so funny about that?”
Harkness cleared his throat. “Nothing. Nothing I suppose. Are you sure he’s human, though?”
“He’s just as human as I am,” Sirius said defensively and sat up a little straighter. It was difficult enough having to deal with the prejudices against magical creatures in their world; did it really have to be the same in the Muggle one as well? “He’s just got a furry little problem, that’s all.”
“That’s one way to put it,” Harkness said with a soft chuckle. His eyes softened, the lines around them becoming more prominent, and Sirius felt his annoyance reluctantly slipping away.
“You mean you don’t think I’m mad?”
“Well, the magic bit is a little hard to believe, but I’m still not convinced there’s not something to it. It’s not outside the realm of possibility. Torchwood has had experience with werewolves before, so that’s a stroke in your favour.”
“Do I want to know?” Sirius asked, rolling his eyes.
“Probably not,” Harkness said and turned towards Jones.
“It’s a bit...complicated anyway,” the Welshman said and pulled something small and rectangular from his pocket. “Shall I, Jack?”
Harkness hummed noncommittally and shrugged out of his coat. “Tell Gwen we’re on our way with company.”
Sirius frowned as Jones stared down at the device for a moment before pressing some buttons. He watched as the Welshman got to his feet, turned his back on the pair and started talking into it. Frowning at Harkness, Sirius asked, “Is that another scanner?”
Harkness chuckled and stood, offering a hand to him. He took it and stood still as the American draped his coat over Sirius’s shoulders. “That’s just a mobile phone.”
“Don’t phones need a cord to work?” Sirius asked, looking down at the coat. The wool was soft and well-worn against his palms as he pulled it tighter around himself. He shivered into its warmth, the scent of gun oil and the spice of Harkness’s aftershave teasing his nostrils. He sneezed.
“Bless you.” Patting his shoulder, Harkness said, “No cords, just a really good radio signal. Technology’s amazing, isn’t it?”
“If you say so...” Sirius trailed off with a frown as he studied the coat. He turned slightly to look back at him. “World War II?”
“Yup,” Harkness said and Sirius noticed the set of his jaw.
Sirius frowned. The man was far too young to have served; he didn’t look a day over forty. Even if it were 1979, he still would have been too young, and if it really was 2008, he would have had to been well over seventy to have even been alive, let alone serve, during the war. “How’d you get it?”
“Long story,” Harkness said, and turned that wide smile of his on Sirius. His eyes, though, were as blue and stormy as the water in the distance.
“Aren’t they always?” he asked, not accepting the dismissal. If Harkness wanted him to be honest with them, the least he could do was take his own bloody advice. “At least the good ones are.”
Harkness stared at Jones’s back for a moment, a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth as the younger man gesticulated as he spoke. It was gone by the time he turned back to Sirius. “Family heirloom. It was my dad’s. He was a volunteer during the war.”
Sirius nodded, not believing a word but letting it drop, and looked out across the island. “So what...what’s going to happen to me now?”
“Well, first you’re going to come back with us to our base,” Harkness said, rocking back on his heels, arms crossed over his chest. “Then once you tell us what we need to know, we’ll see what we can do.”
“I just want to go home,” Sirius said, shoulders slumping. He watched as Jones lowered the phone from his ear.
“I know, kid,” Harkness murmured, clapping a hand to his shoulder. “Trust me, I know.”
He looked up, startled. The man was staring past Jones, out across the island and the channel. Sirius didn’t know if he meant America or not, but the look on his face was set, lips turned down and gaze far, far away. Sirius let out a breath as Jones cleared his throat.
“Jack?”
Harkness’s reverie was snapped as he looked up at Jones. Jones smiled gently, almost reassuringly, at him and Sirius pulled the coat tighter around himself, pretending to study one of the buttons. He ran his finger over the design, absently pressing against it before seeing if it had left an impression on his skin.
“Ianto,” Harkness said softly, intimately if Sirius were being honest. “Gwen in yet?”
“Yep,” Jones said and frowned at Sirius. He paused to zip his own coat and turn the collar up against the wind. “I let her know we’ll be in shortly, plus one, and to have everything ready.”
Sirius grasped the lapels of the greatcoat, the fabric damp. He didn’t know if liked the idea of going back to theirs without his wand, but he didn’t have much choice, did he?
“I’ll just let Helen know we’ve found him. I’ll meet you back at the boat?”
Sirius turned his head towards Harkness. He still had that pained, faraway look in his eyes; his pale blue shirt was saturated from the rain and Sirius could just make out the vest underneath. It couldn’t have been comfortable, but he seemed to not even notice.
“Yeah,” he said, smiling at Jones and grasped Sirius’s arm just above his elbow. “Ready?”
“I don’t have a choice, do I?” Sirius said dejectedly. At least he’d be out of the rain, he hoped.
“Not really.” Harkness gave him a small grin. “Quick march. We don’t want you catching your death out here.”
Sirius turned his head, looking at the man. His fringe was sticking to his forehead, rivulets streaming down from the humiliated spikes. He wanted to tell him that it wasn’t him who would be catching his death if they didn’t get somewhere dry soon. Instead, he let Harkness lead him back towards the shore. Jones was already a few paces ahead, mobile phone pressed to his ear once more.
***
“Well,” Ianto said as he leaned against the boat’s railing. He watched Black lying across the seats, legs tucked up under Jack’s greatcoat and eyes closed. “That went smoother than I expected.”
“Yeah, it did,” Jack sighed and reached behind Ianto to brace him against falling overboard. Ianto rolled his eyes, but turned into Jack’s side, wrapping his arms around his waist and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.
“The question is,” Ianto said, lips brushing against Jack’s skin, “is what we are going to do with him.”
“How would you like to have a hell hound that just happens to turn into a man for a pet? I hear they make excellent guard dogs.”
“Are you trying to replace me, sir?” Ianto teased, nipping at Jack’s ear lobe before pulling back to raise one eyebrow at him.
“Never,” Jack sighed and let his hand trail up Ianto’s back to run his fingers through his soaked hair. “I think we should run some more scans when we get back. Something isn’t right with the readings we’ve already got. Residual Rift or artron energy shouldn’t be that strong, but it could just be ‘magic’ if he’s telling the truth. I want to be absolutely sure he’s a terrestrial before we do anything.
“Gwen and I can interrogate him, see what he knows, and you can run a search for his Remus fellow. Maybe find out if he has any next of kin we can notify; I’m thinking we find a body that looks like he will in about thirty years, a road accident, face too mangled to make a positive ID but close enough no one’ll notice. I’ll let you have fun with it.”
“I’m going to need a last name,” Ianto said softly, “but then again, how many ‘Remuses’ could there be.”
“We’ll see what we can get out of him,” Jack sighed, trailing his hand along the contours of Ianto’s face, wiping away a trail of water slipping down the side of his face.
Ianto closed his eyes, shivering as Jack’s fingers ghosted along the curve of his lip, and sighed into his mouth as Jack leaned in to press their lips together, tongue teasing at the seam. He pressed his palm over Jack’s heart as he gave in, allowing Jack to say with his kiss what he didn’t put into words, ignoring the saturated fabric as he squeezed Jack’s shirt.
“What was that for?” he asked, smiling gently, when Jack pulled away.
Jack’s lips quirked into a small, self-conscious smile. “Don’t leave me. Please. I don’t what I’d do if you weren’t here.”
“Oh, Jack,” Ianto said and pressed a kiss against Jack’s chin before nuzzling along his jawline. “I don’t plan to, cariad, not for a very long time. What’s brought this on?”
Jack sighed heavily, his arms tightening around Ianto. He stared at Black, his head resting on Ianto’s shoulder. When Ianto’s hand came up to rest on the nape of his neck, fingers teasing through his hair, he whispered, “I don’t want to be the one left behind.”
The “again” went unspoken, but nonetheless understood.
Part VIII
Author: noscrubs12345
sirius100 Prompt: Variations on Reality (original)
Pairings: Remus/Sirius, Jack/Ianto
Rating: PG-13/T
Summary: Sirius Black knew there was something he didn't like about Cardiff. He just didn't expect it to be a rift in time and space. But, once taken, will he be able to make it back to the wizarding world? Or will he be stuck with bloody Torchwood if his friends don't find him first? And what does a mysterious blonde woman have to do with the strange blue box hidden inside the Department of Mysteries?
Warnings: crossover, spoilers through Torchwood series two and Doctor Who series four
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, Russell T Davies, the BBC, various publishers, including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended and no money is being made.
Missed the beginning?: Part I || Part II || Part III || Part IV || Part V || Part VI
or
Bloody Torchwood @ AO3
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“She wasn’t like anyone I’ve ever met. There was something of the wolf about her, but she burned like the sun instead of the moon,” Remus said quietly, unable to meet Dumbledore’s stare. “I could barely stand to look at her.”
“How?” James asked sharply. “How can this not be Voldemort’s doing? Things falling from the sky, people disappearing, and a werewolf who isn’t a proper werewolf-it’s madness.”
“But yet there is elegance in even the maddest of situations.” Dumbledore looked between them. “These matters are of no concern to Voldemort. If they were, he would have already acted upon them. The thing is, if we don’t stop this from happening then the Order and the Death Eaters won’t matter, like Remus said. The Darkness is coming. It’s not just the end of wizarding Britain as we know it if we allow this to happen, it’s the end of everything. Do you understand that?”
“But what is the Darkness?” Remus asked, voice cracking. “How can we fight it if we don’t know what we’re even up against?”
Dumbledore sighed. He stared past Remus and James and into the flames dancing in the fireplace. “The end of reality. The walls of the universe are breaking down. The space between different realities-some call it Hell, others call it the Void-is seeping through. There’s nothing there. Nothing but darkness and cold. Can you imagine that-absolutely nothing? Because I can’t, and yet there’s something moving inside it trying to get out.”
Remus felt James’s gaze on him and he looked up, meeting his eyes. There was a fear in them that hurt Remus to see, hadn’t seen since Sirius had tricked Snape into going to the Shrieking Shack, and his stomach clenched. He considered what Dumbledore had said, letting it sink in. He looked away when something flickered in James’s eyes.
“Is Sirius in the Darkness?” Remus asked quietly, trying to let James’s hand gripping his forearm ground him.
Dumbledore shook his head. “The Ministry remotely monitors Rift activity in Cardiff. Alastor checked it during his investigation. There was a large enough negative spike this afternoon to indicate it had taken something.”
“Sirius,” James said, voice tense. “So he’s safe?”
“He won’t be out of danger until we can find him,” Dumbledore said gravely. “If we can find him. The Rift returns what it takes, but there’s no way to predict when it will return something or in what state it will be.”
“So what do we do? If we have to move the heavens to find him, we’ll do it. Right, Moony?”
“And the moon,” Remus added. “That thing? The box that appeared in the street?”
Dumbledore smiled, the twinkle in his eye sparkling back to life. “I was hoping one of you would mention that. She’s called a TARDIS-a time and relative dimension in space.”
“She?” James cautioned. “How do we know it’s a she?”
“The TARDIS is a sentient being,” Dumbledore said, giving James a look that said he thought the man was being deliberatly obtuse.
“And we know that how?”
“The box gets inside your head somehow according to what I’ve heard from my contacts in the Department of Mysteries. They claim it feels like it’s grieving, singing a song of lament, and why I do not know. I’d like to get a look for myself before I make my own judgements, though. If we can get inside, we may be able to find a way to pinpoint Sirius’s location.”
“So it’s a sentient piece of technology?” Remus asked and tucked a leg up underneath himself. “Is it charmed?”
“Oh, no, Remus. Not at all.” Remus thought Dumbledore looked like a third year on seeing Honeydukes for the first time. “She’s was grown on a planet called Gallifrey, home to the Time Lords, a race who used TARDISes to travel through time and protect the time lines. However, they died out a long time ago in the future. None survived the Last Great Time War.”
“Assuming that makes sense any sort of sense,” James said, frowning as he too shifted in his chair, “then how could it have ended up here?”
“She fell through time, perhaps,” Dumbledore said absently, stroking his beard. “We won’t know for sure until we can look at it.”
“But the Unspeakables took her,” Remus interjected. “We can’t just waltz into the Department of Mysteries and demand to see it.”
“Of course not,” Dumbledore quipped. “We could just...bend the truth a bit.”
“We could get sent to Azkaban, Albus,” James said, frownining at the man over the rim of his glasses.
“Only if we do anything illegal. Last time I checked, just have little look wasn’t grounds for arrest.”
“If it’s in the Department of Mysteries, it probably is. You know how they’re stepped up security.” James cocked his head to the side, one eyebrow raised. “We’ll never get in. Besides, I doubt ‘just looking’ is what we’ll be doing.”
“Never say never,” Remus said, shooting him a look. “What if this is the only way to find out what happened to Sirius? The only way to get him back? You said you’d do anything!”
James sighed. “I’m going to be a dad soon-I don’t want to risk my kid not knowing me by going to Azkaban and you need an arrest on your record like you need a blue moon. If we get found out, there’s no turning back. We’ll be lucky to get life and, just between us chickens, I don’t fancy a snog with a Dementor.”
“Mr Potter. Mr Lupin,” Dumbledore said sternly and met both their eyes in turn. “If we don’t do something-if we don’t take this chance-we lessen our chances of finding Sirius at all. This may be our only chance. Sometimes, to set things right, one must risk everything.”
“He’d do it for us, James,” Remus said quietly, turning his head towards the man.
“I know. I don’t have to like it, but I know. Ends justify the means, yeah?” He punched Remus’s shoulder playfully. “Yeah?”
“If you say so, Prongs,” he said, smiling bitterly. “Now how do we do it?”
“Leave that to me, boys. I’ll see if I can sort something out, and maybe call in a few favours,” Dumbledore said and rubbed his hands over his knees. Standing, he tucked his hands into the pockets of his robe and smiled down at them. “In the meantime, go home, try to get some rest, and meet me in my office around nine tomorrow morning. That should give me enough time to come up with a plan, all right? Bring Mr Pettigrew. He’s Sirius’s friend too. He should know if something has happened to him.”
Remus and James shared a guilty look but nodded.
“Good,” he said with a smile. “See you tomorrow then, boys.”
His eyes twinkled as he regarded them one last time before disappearing with a “pop.”
James sighed heavily and slumped in his chair. “Sirius couldn’t have just got himself arrested like a normal person?”
Remus chuckled, some of the tension of the day slipping away. “Well, at least he got out of dinner with my auntie.”
James smirked. “Like I said, couldn’t he have gone about it the normal way?”
“This is Padfoot we’re talking about. Nothing he ever does is normal.”
***
“A werewolf?” Harkness asked, laughter in his voice. He rolled his eyes and shared a look with Jones, who only quirked an eyebrow at him. “Really?”
Sirius wanted to knock the shit-eating grin off the American’s face. Hard.
“Yes,” he said instead through clenched teeth, hands curled tightly into fists. Mentally, he counted to ten. It didn’t help. “A werewolf. What’s so funny about that?”
Harkness cleared his throat. “Nothing. Nothing I suppose. Are you sure he’s human, though?”
“He’s just as human as I am,” Sirius said defensively and sat up a little straighter. It was difficult enough having to deal with the prejudices against magical creatures in their world; did it really have to be the same in the Muggle one as well? “He’s just got a furry little problem, that’s all.”
“That’s one way to put it,” Harkness said with a soft chuckle. His eyes softened, the lines around them becoming more prominent, and Sirius felt his annoyance reluctantly slipping away.
“You mean you don’t think I’m mad?”
“Well, the magic bit is a little hard to believe, but I’m still not convinced there’s not something to it. It’s not outside the realm of possibility. Torchwood has had experience with werewolves before, so that’s a stroke in your favour.”
“Do I want to know?” Sirius asked, rolling his eyes.
“Probably not,” Harkness said and turned towards Jones.
“It’s a bit...complicated anyway,” the Welshman said and pulled something small and rectangular from his pocket. “Shall I, Jack?”
Harkness hummed noncommittally and shrugged out of his coat. “Tell Gwen we’re on our way with company.”
Sirius frowned as Jones stared down at the device for a moment before pressing some buttons. He watched as the Welshman got to his feet, turned his back on the pair and started talking into it. Frowning at Harkness, Sirius asked, “Is that another scanner?”
Harkness chuckled and stood, offering a hand to him. He took it and stood still as the American draped his coat over Sirius’s shoulders. “That’s just a mobile phone.”
“Don’t phones need a cord to work?” Sirius asked, looking down at the coat. The wool was soft and well-worn against his palms as he pulled it tighter around himself. He shivered into its warmth, the scent of gun oil and the spice of Harkness’s aftershave teasing his nostrils. He sneezed.
“Bless you.” Patting his shoulder, Harkness said, “No cords, just a really good radio signal. Technology’s amazing, isn’t it?”
“If you say so...” Sirius trailed off with a frown as he studied the coat. He turned slightly to look back at him. “World War II?”
“Yup,” Harkness said and Sirius noticed the set of his jaw.
Sirius frowned. The man was far too young to have served; he didn’t look a day over forty. Even if it were 1979, he still would have been too young, and if it really was 2008, he would have had to been well over seventy to have even been alive, let alone serve, during the war. “How’d you get it?”
“Long story,” Harkness said, and turned that wide smile of his on Sirius. His eyes, though, were as blue and stormy as the water in the distance.
“Aren’t they always?” he asked, not accepting the dismissal. If Harkness wanted him to be honest with them, the least he could do was take his own bloody advice. “At least the good ones are.”
Harkness stared at Jones’s back for a moment, a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth as the younger man gesticulated as he spoke. It was gone by the time he turned back to Sirius. “Family heirloom. It was my dad’s. He was a volunteer during the war.”
Sirius nodded, not believing a word but letting it drop, and looked out across the island. “So what...what’s going to happen to me now?”
“Well, first you’re going to come back with us to our base,” Harkness said, rocking back on his heels, arms crossed over his chest. “Then once you tell us what we need to know, we’ll see what we can do.”
“I just want to go home,” Sirius said, shoulders slumping. He watched as Jones lowered the phone from his ear.
“I know, kid,” Harkness murmured, clapping a hand to his shoulder. “Trust me, I know.”
He looked up, startled. The man was staring past Jones, out across the island and the channel. Sirius didn’t know if he meant America or not, but the look on his face was set, lips turned down and gaze far, far away. Sirius let out a breath as Jones cleared his throat.
“Jack?”
Harkness’s reverie was snapped as he looked up at Jones. Jones smiled gently, almost reassuringly, at him and Sirius pulled the coat tighter around himself, pretending to study one of the buttons. He ran his finger over the design, absently pressing against it before seeing if it had left an impression on his skin.
“Ianto,” Harkness said softly, intimately if Sirius were being honest. “Gwen in yet?”
“Yep,” Jones said and frowned at Sirius. He paused to zip his own coat and turn the collar up against the wind. “I let her know we’ll be in shortly, plus one, and to have everything ready.”
Sirius grasped the lapels of the greatcoat, the fabric damp. He didn’t know if liked the idea of going back to theirs without his wand, but he didn’t have much choice, did he?
“I’ll just let Helen know we’ve found him. I’ll meet you back at the boat?”
Sirius turned his head towards Harkness. He still had that pained, faraway look in his eyes; his pale blue shirt was saturated from the rain and Sirius could just make out the vest underneath. It couldn’t have been comfortable, but he seemed to not even notice.
“Yeah,” he said, smiling at Jones and grasped Sirius’s arm just above his elbow. “Ready?”
“I don’t have a choice, do I?” Sirius said dejectedly. At least he’d be out of the rain, he hoped.
“Not really.” Harkness gave him a small grin. “Quick march. We don’t want you catching your death out here.”
Sirius turned his head, looking at the man. His fringe was sticking to his forehead, rivulets streaming down from the humiliated spikes. He wanted to tell him that it wasn’t him who would be catching his death if they didn’t get somewhere dry soon. Instead, he let Harkness lead him back towards the shore. Jones was already a few paces ahead, mobile phone pressed to his ear once more.
***
“Well,” Ianto said as he leaned against the boat’s railing. He watched Black lying across the seats, legs tucked up under Jack’s greatcoat and eyes closed. “That went smoother than I expected.”
“Yeah, it did,” Jack sighed and reached behind Ianto to brace him against falling overboard. Ianto rolled his eyes, but turned into Jack’s side, wrapping his arms around his waist and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.
“The question is,” Ianto said, lips brushing against Jack’s skin, “is what we are going to do with him.”
“How would you like to have a hell hound that just happens to turn into a man for a pet? I hear they make excellent guard dogs.”
“Are you trying to replace me, sir?” Ianto teased, nipping at Jack’s ear lobe before pulling back to raise one eyebrow at him.
“Never,” Jack sighed and let his hand trail up Ianto’s back to run his fingers through his soaked hair. “I think we should run some more scans when we get back. Something isn’t right with the readings we’ve already got. Residual Rift or artron energy shouldn’t be that strong, but it could just be ‘magic’ if he’s telling the truth. I want to be absolutely sure he’s a terrestrial before we do anything.
“Gwen and I can interrogate him, see what he knows, and you can run a search for his Remus fellow. Maybe find out if he has any next of kin we can notify; I’m thinking we find a body that looks like he will in about thirty years, a road accident, face too mangled to make a positive ID but close enough no one’ll notice. I’ll let you have fun with it.”
“I’m going to need a last name,” Ianto said softly, “but then again, how many ‘Remuses’ could there be.”
“We’ll see what we can get out of him,” Jack sighed, trailing his hand along the contours of Ianto’s face, wiping away a trail of water slipping down the side of his face.
Ianto closed his eyes, shivering as Jack’s fingers ghosted along the curve of his lip, and sighed into his mouth as Jack leaned in to press their lips together, tongue teasing at the seam. He pressed his palm over Jack’s heart as he gave in, allowing Jack to say with his kiss what he didn’t put into words, ignoring the saturated fabric as he squeezed Jack’s shirt.
“What was that for?” he asked, smiling gently, when Jack pulled away.
Jack’s lips quirked into a small, self-conscious smile. “Don’t leave me. Please. I don’t what I’d do if you weren’t here.”
“Oh, Jack,” Ianto said and pressed a kiss against Jack’s chin before nuzzling along his jawline. “I don’t plan to, cariad, not for a very long time. What’s brought this on?”
Jack sighed heavily, his arms tightening around Ianto. He stared at Black, his head resting on Ianto’s shoulder. When Ianto’s hand came up to rest on the nape of his neck, fingers teasing through his hair, he whispered, “I don’t want to be the one left behind.”
The “again” went unspoken, but nonetheless understood.
Part VIII