FIC: Magic and Mayhem at the Rift (9/?)
Name: Magic and Mayhem at the Rift
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Jack/Ianto, Buffy/Spike, Xander/Anya, Willow/Tosh, Gwen/Rhys, Owen/?
Warning: Crossover insanity, the presence of vampires and demons on the rift (or are they aliens?) and some mature content. Lots of slashiness. Oh and some Gwen-bashing *evil grin*
Summary: The gang from Buffy come through the rift. Set after Torchwood episode Meat (2.04) and immediately after Buffy episode Older and Far Away (6.14) (just before the end, in fact), spoilers for all six seasons of Buffy and the first season of Torchwood.
Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood, if I did there would be a helluva lot more of Jack and Ianto kissing in the hot house (and Gwen wouldn't walk in and ruin it!). I also don't own Buffy ... if I did Buffy and Spike would live together forever <3
CHAPTER Summary: Martha gives Jack a piece of her mind. Jack makes a decision, Owen gets laid and Xander gets concussed.
A shamelessly smutty chapter of fun (I hope).
~Chapter one~ ~Chapter two~ ~Chapter three~ ~Chapter four~ ~Chapter five~ ~Crack!fic smut (not required reading, but slots in here)~ ~Chapter six~ ~Chapter seven~ ~Chapter eight~
Thursday 22nd February
09:47
“Good morning,” Martha said, cheerily, walking into the hub and across to Jack and Ianto. She gathered from the expression on Ianto’s face that Jack had informed him of her saving the world and, consequently, his life. She gave him a small smile and then turned to Jack. “Can we talk?” she asked, quietly.
At that same moment Willow yelled, uncharacteristically, “Holy shit!” and ran from the hub. All eyes watched her go, especially Tosh, whose eyes were wide, and then went back to what they were doing.
“Sure,” Jack said to Martha.
“I’m going to find our guests some clothes,” Ianto said. “I’ll be back in an hour or so.” He put down his coffee and walked off towards where Willow had headed, leaving Martha and Jack to talk.
“You told him,” Martha said.
“Yup,” Jack replied, with a smile. “He took it very well.”
“How much did you tell him?” she asked.
“Just what I said I was going to tell him,” Jack informed her. “Nothing more.”
Martha sighed. “Don't you think he deserves to know everything?”
Jack shook his head. “What good would it do?”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re willing to tell him all about the end of the world and his death ... but you won’t tell him about what happened to you? The one part he’d most want to know.”
“It’s my call,” Jack snapped.
“Yes, it is, but you’re making the wrong one,” Martha snapped back.
09:50
“Willow, wait!” Tosh yelped, running behind the very, very unhappy witch.
“I knew she was feeling messed up but not this messed up,” Willow moaned, as they strode, quickly, towards Buffy’s room.
“What are you going to do? Charge in there and demand to know why Buffy’s doing what she’s doing?”
“She’s doing Spike! He hasn’t even got a soul! Last time she did a vampire he lost his soul and tried to kill us all,” Willow snapped.
“But Spike doesn’t have a soul,” Tosh reasoned, “and he’s not trying to kill us all.”
“Because he has a chip in his head!” Willow snarled. “One that could malfunction at any time.”
Tosh groaned. “But you can’t just charge in there, magic crackling and ... what are you planning, exactly?”
“I’m planning to drive something wooden and pointy through his heart,” Willow said.
Tosh put her hand out to block Willow’s progress and pushed her back against to wall, pinning her against it, fearsomely. “Willow, use your brain. Buffy obviously likes Spike otherwise she wouldn’t be ... well ... doing what she’s doing. And it’s her life, it’s her choice.”
“But it’s my fault she’s like this!” Willow moaned. “I brought her back, out of heaven into hell ... and now she’s in Cardiff.”
“What do you mean you brought her out of heaven?” Tosh asked as a tear slipped down Willow’ face.
“She sacrificed herself to save Dawn and I ... I wouldn’t let go of her. I used magic to bring her back, but I brought her out of heaven and now she’s trapped here in her hell.” She slid down the wall, bringing Tosh with her, until she was sat on the floor, face cradled in her hands. “It’s all my fault...”
10:01
“So what do you think about Little Miss Perfect?” Faith asked, sat on Owen’s autopsy table, legs swinging, as he worked.
“Who?” Owen was distracted, something Faith was very annoyed by, so, as he was bending down in front of her, she kicked out and poked him in the butt with her boot. “Ow!” he complained, straightening up and rubbing his backside. “What was that for?”
“You were ignoring me.”
Owen rolled his eyes. “I answered you, didn’t I? I asked who you were talking about.”
“Buffy of course,” Faith informed him.
“She doesn’t seem that perfect to me,” Owen said, turning away from Faith to continue looking for what he was failing to find.
“So you don't like her then?”
Owen stood up straight again and looked at Faith sideways. “I didn’t say that.”
“You like her then?”
“Why do I feel like I’m being interrogated?” Owen demanded, irritably, standing up straight again, ready to defend himself if Faith decided to copy Buffy and beat him up.
“Just curious,” Faith said, with a shrug. “Everyone seems to like Buffy and not me.”
“I like both of you,” Owen reasoned, defensively.
Faith grinned, almost manically. “That’s good,” she said, hopping of the autopsy table and walking across until she was mere inches from the terrified doctor, her hand grasping his white coat. “Because I like you, too.”
Owen gulped, audibly.
“Scared?”
“No,” he hissed, dodging under her arm and backing into the autopsy table. “I just ... uh ...”
“Strong women make you nervous?” Faith asked, walking towards him, a predatory expression on her face.
Owen shook his head. “No,” he insisted, trying to decide whether to jump her or run.
“Just the Slayer then?” Faith continued.
“No,” Owen said for the third time, knocking over a tray of equipment, a scalpel landing on his foot. He yelped, angrily, and jumped up and down as Faith laughed.
“Then why are you avoiding me?” she breathed, bringing her face in close to his.
“I’m not,” Owen said, his voice a few octaves higher as he dodged Faith. “I just have to ... go over there!” With that, he dodged under her arm again and fled up the stairs, leaving her to laugh hysterically.
10:07
Knock, knock. “Buffy? It’s Ianto; I have some clothes for you.”
Buffy sat up in bed with a sigh and, before she remembered Spike was lying next to her, called out, “Come in.”
Ianto opened the door and came in, with a large bag of clothes. “Here,” he said, putting the bag down on the foot of the bed as Buffy got up, kicking Spike as she went, straightening her shirt as she went and smoothing down her hair (hey, she may be emotionally-detached, but she can still spot a hottie!).
“Anything good?” she asked.
Ianto looked at her sideways. “See for yourself,” he said, glancing warily at Spike, who was sat up and glowering darkly at the Welshman.
Buffy opened the bag and peeked inside, pulling out a couple of pairs of jeans, a skirt or two and a variety of tops and shirts. All her size. “How did you know my size?” she asked.
“My dad was a master tailor,” Ianto replied, with a smile.
Buffy smiled, back, although it was a haunted smile. “Thank you,” she said.
“I didn’t get anything for you,” Ianto said to Spike. “It was mentioned to me that you did not need a change of clothes.”
Spike rolled his eyes and flopped back on the bed with a sigh. Ianto smiled at Buffy and left the room, leaving Buffy to throw a pair of her jeans at Spike, petulantly, who yelped, “Hey!”
Ianto’s next stop was Willow’s room, where, finding it was empty, he deposited the next bag on her bed and, as he turned to go, took in the sight of Tosh’s clothes from the previous day lying, abandoned, on the floor. Jumping to accurate conclusions, he smiled very slightly, and left the room.
The next room was Xander and Anya’s. Ianto walked up to the door and knocked on it. “Come in,” Anya shouted. The young man walked into the room to find Anya and Xander in opposite corners of the room, facing each other and glowering darkly. “I want to go home, Xander!” Anya complained. “I don't care if this world has hot women!”
“I didn’t say that, Ahn,” Xander argued back. “I said it had one hot woman. One.”
“I have a magic shop to get back to!” Anya whined. “Don't you care about that, Xander?”
Ianto looked like he was watching a tennis match, looking between each of them. “Uh ...” he said, just to be ignored.
“What exactly am I supposed to do?” Xander demanded. “I’m not a witch or a Slayer or one of these Torchwood guys!” He gestured wildly at Ianto, who nearly lost an eye in the process. “I’m just me and I have to go with the flow.”
“Well, thanks to you we don't have a witch anymore!” Anya griped.
“Thanks to me?” Xander yelped. “Since when was it me who got addicted to the magicks and went loopy? Anyway, it was Tara who pointed out that fact. If you want to blame someone, blame her!”
“Tara isn’t here,” Anya pointed out. “So I have to blame you!”
Ianto, who had, by now, had his fill of their squabble, walked between them, put the two bags down on the bed and said, “Clothes,” before turning and striding out of the room, leaving them to continue their argument in private.
Judging by the loud crashing sound as he left, Anya decided to turn it into a violent argument. He somehow doubted Xander had the balls to throw something.
10:34
Jack was feeling depressed as he watched Owen, Tosh, Willow and Faith interact down below. He knew how the newcomers must feel; confused and lost, out of time and out of place. He wondered, idly, if maybe there was a way to make them feel like one of the gang.
“I delivered the clothing to our guests,” Ianto said, walking into Jack’s office with a bag.
“What’s in the bag then?” Jack enquired, walking towards Ianto and sitting on his desk.
“Something for us,” Ianto replied, with a slightly devilish look.
“Oh?” Jack said, cheering up, considerably. “And what would that be?”
“Well,” Ianto conceded. “Not something ... rather ... some things ...”
Jack’s eyes widened and he grinned, leaning over to look inside the bag. Before he could take a peek, however, Ianto moved it away. “Hey!” he complained, trying to grab at the bag.
“Ah, ah, ah!” Ianto said. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”
Jack pouted like a kid on Christmas Eve. “Not even a peek?” he begged.
“Nope,” Ianto replied, bending down and kissing Jack, gently. “You’ll just have to wait until later.”
“How much later?” Jack demanded.
“Bedtime,” Ianto informed him.
“Now can be bedtime.”
Letting out a chuckle, Ianto shook his head. “No, I mean bedtime tonight,” he said. “Not bed time when you decide.” He looked at Jack for a moment. “It’s always bed time for you,” he pointed out.
“Nothing wrong with being flexible,” Jack said, smirking and reaching out to pull Ianto in for a kiss.
The Welshman resisted, however, and put his hand up. “You wanted to see me?”
Jack grinned. “I always want to see you.”
Rolling his eyes, Ianto said, “If you don't have a good reason to summon me to your office ...”
“I do,” Jack said, slightly desperate to keep him there. After all, the longer Ianto stayed in the office, the more chance Jack had to see inside the bag or, better still, get the younger man naked. “I’m taking the group out tonight, you included.”
“Where to?” Ianto asked.
“That’s for me to know,” Jack said, as he saw Faith walking up the office and hopped off his desk to stand up, “and you to puzzle and obsess over.” He leant forward and kissed Ianto hard for a moment, pulling back when the office door opened. “Faith!” he said, cheerily, ignoring the deeply suspicious look Ianto was giving him. “What can I do for you?”
10:40
“I keep saying this; I’m sorry, okay?”
“It really hurt!”
“I thought it was a lot lighter than that ...”
“You picked it up! You should have known it was heavy!”
“You were only unconscious for a minute!”
Owen watched the couple argue as he patched up Xander’s head and was silently thankful he wasn’t in a long-term relationship.
“But I was unconscious, Ahn,” Xander moaned. “Ouch!” he yelped, as Owen poked his head. “You have a lousy bedside manner.”
Owen shrugged. “So I’ve been told. That’s why I don't work in a hospital anymore.”
“Ouch!” Xander exclaimed again, as Owen poked him a second time. “What was that for?”
“Being a bad patient.” He turned to Anya. “Don't throw things at him in future,” he told her, sternly. “It’s not a good thing.”
“But I want to go home,” Anya whined. “It’s not fair.”
“We all want you to go the bloody hell home,” Owen told her. “But until Tosh can find a way to send you back we’re stuck.” He pulled a face at her. “Now get out of my autopsy bay. Both of you.”
As Xander stood up, Faith popped up behind him and pinched his butt, making him yelp and spin on her, holding up his hands and saying, in a girlish tone, “Don't do that!”
Faith cackled and hopped up onto the autopsy table, grinning evilly at Xander, who shuddered and backed away from her so as not to expose his backside to her again.
“Back again, are you?” Owen said, turning to face Faith, following Xander’s example.
“Yep,” Faith said, with a grin. “Can’t get enough of this place.”
“Shouldn't you be out slaying or something?” he demanded.
“It’s light out, dummy,” Faith said, rolling her eyes. “The sun deals with them for me.”
Owen grimaced. “Shouldn't you be out doing ... something?”
“Trying to get rid of me now, are you?” she asked.
“No,” Owen said, with a sigh. “I’m just busy.”
Faith took in how he was leaning against the wall, tossing a pen in the air and catching it, over and over. “Yeah, you look real swamped.” She hopped down from the table and walked over to him, making his eyes widen. Once she was so close that he could feel her breath on his face, she whispered, “Lovely and private down here.”
“Uh, yeah,” Owen replied, breathlessly.
“Do you feel naughty?” she asked, brushing her lips against his as her hand made swift progress down towards the front of his trousers.
“I’m usually not one for ... naughtiness!” Owen squeaked, as she grabbed him.
“Being naughty can be fun sometimes,” Faith informed him, her other hand gripping his hair and tipping his head backwards as she nipped his throat. He moaned and she took that as an invitation (not like she really needed one) to pull him from the wall and toss him across the autopsy bay to slam into the stairwell.
Vaulting across the autopsy cart, she landed straddling his legs, an evil glint in her eyes. “Let me teach you how to be naughty,” she said, taking pride in the muted nod she received.
Grabbing his arms and pinning them above his head with one hand, she finally captured his mouth in a rough kiss, her tongue invading his mouth without invitation and probing the far corners of his mouth, her foot reaching out and shoving the autopsy cart across the bay with a large crash. Her other hand, rather than unbuttoning his shirt, ripped it open, exposing his smooth chest.
He gasped out as she released his mouth to nip her way down his neck and roughly bite his nipple. “Faith!” he groaned, trying to find the words to argue against doing what they were doing where they were doing it. The words, however, were lost in transit as her free hand found its way into his pants and squeezed.
Wanting better access, Faith, using only one hand, ripped Owen’s jeans and underpants beneath open, pulling him out and exposing him to the cool air, making him groan deep in his throat. “You like that do you?” she whispered in his ear, her tongue darting out to taste his earlobe.
Resisting the overwhelming urge (even though he doubted he could form the word) to say ‘Duh’, Owen threw his head back, banging it against the wall and not even noticing the pain as Faith bent down and took him into her warm mouth. He closed his eyes and noted how versatile her tongue was as it teased him to the point that he thought he was going to come. Just before he got there, though, she pulled back, eyes glinting manically as she reached up and captured his mouth again, allowing him to taste himself on her tongue.
Desperate now, he reached out and tried to rip open her trousers, failing miserably in the attempt. With an evil grin, Faith pulled back enough to undo her trousers and pull them off, tossing them to the floor nearby before lowering herself down onto Owen with a muffled moan.
Owen’s eyes widened as he felt her warmth encompass him and banged his head against the wall as he tried to hold off coming, which wasn’t easy as he watched her ride him. He reached out and teased her clit, revelling in how her eyes widened and she leaned forward to kiss him hard, again, thrusting her tongue violently into his mouth as her movements became rapid and uneven.
As her orgasm hit, Faith’s muscles clenched around Owen, causing his eyes to pop open and his fingers to grip her hips as he thrust upwards a few times, his own orgasm ripping through his system and making him cry out into her mouth.
Exhausted, he leant back against the wall as Faith climbed off him, pulling her pants on and, surprisingly considerately, doing up his pants for him. A quick peck on the lips and she wandered up out of the autopsy bay, past Jack who was leaning against Owen’s desk, and off towards her room for a shower.
10:37
Five minutes before.
Deciding to break the news to Owen that they were all going out together now rather than later, Jack headed out of his office and down the stairs towards the autopsy bay. However, as he approached, he noticed that the autopsy table was on its side by the far wall and he could hear the sound of panting.
Concerned, he quickened his pace, running to the top of the stairs and looking down just in time to see Faith impaling herself upon Owen. Stepping backwards, his face clearly reading ‘Oh!’, Jack wandered over to Owen’s desk and, with a smirk, leant against it, waiting for one of them to emerge.
Sure enough, a couple of minutes later Faith walked past him and off towards her room. Jack cast his eyes around the hub. Willow and Tosh were by Tosh’s computer, Xander and Anya were arguing on the sofa, Owen was unconscious in the autopsy bay below, he’d wager, Buffy was with Spike in her room and Faith was on her way to her own ... He mentally ticked off a list; they had a witch on the wagon, a stupid boy, a vampire, an emotionless Slayer, an incredibly emotive Slayer, the Torchwood group including immortal captain and an ex-demon.
Now all they needed was Jackie Tyler.
Jack silently prayed to any God that existed that she was well and truly trapped in the alternate universe.
~Next Chapter~
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Jack/Ianto, Buffy/Spike, Xander/Anya, Willow/Tosh, Gwen/Rhys, Owen/?
Warning: Crossover insanity, the presence of vampires and demons on the rift (or are they aliens?) and some mature content. Lots of slashiness. Oh and some Gwen-bashing *evil grin*
Summary: The gang from Buffy come through the rift. Set after Torchwood episode Meat (2.04) and immediately after Buffy episode Older and Far Away (6.14) (just before the end, in fact), spoilers for all six seasons of Buffy and the first season of Torchwood.
Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood, if I did there would be a helluva lot more of Jack and Ianto kissing in the hot house (and Gwen wouldn't walk in and ruin it!). I also don't own Buffy ... if I did Buffy and Spike would live together forever <3
CHAPTER Summary: Martha gives Jack a piece of her mind. Jack makes a decision, Owen gets laid and Xander gets concussed.
A shamelessly smutty chapter of fun (I hope).
~Chapter one~ ~Chapter two~ ~Chapter three~ ~Chapter four~ ~Chapter five~ ~Crack!fic smut (not required reading, but slots in here)~ ~Chapter six~ ~Chapter seven~ ~Chapter eight~
Thursday 22nd February
09:47
“Good morning,” Martha said, cheerily, walking into the hub and across to Jack and Ianto. She gathered from the expression on Ianto’s face that Jack had informed him of her saving the world and, consequently, his life. She gave him a small smile and then turned to Jack. “Can we talk?” she asked, quietly.
At that same moment Willow yelled, uncharacteristically, “Holy shit!” and ran from the hub. All eyes watched her go, especially Tosh, whose eyes were wide, and then went back to what they were doing.
“Sure,” Jack said to Martha.
“I’m going to find our guests some clothes,” Ianto said. “I’ll be back in an hour or so.” He put down his coffee and walked off towards where Willow had headed, leaving Martha and Jack to talk.
“You told him,” Martha said.
“Yup,” Jack replied, with a smile. “He took it very well.”
“How much did you tell him?” she asked.
“Just what I said I was going to tell him,” Jack informed her. “Nothing more.”
Martha sighed. “Don't you think he deserves to know everything?”
Jack shook his head. “What good would it do?”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re willing to tell him all about the end of the world and his death ... but you won’t tell him about what happened to you? The one part he’d most want to know.”
“It’s my call,” Jack snapped.
“Yes, it is, but you’re making the wrong one,” Martha snapped back.
09:50
“Willow, wait!” Tosh yelped, running behind the very, very unhappy witch.
“I knew she was feeling messed up but not this messed up,” Willow moaned, as they strode, quickly, towards Buffy’s room.
“What are you going to do? Charge in there and demand to know why Buffy’s doing what she’s doing?”
“She’s doing Spike! He hasn’t even got a soul! Last time she did a vampire he lost his soul and tried to kill us all,” Willow snapped.
“But Spike doesn’t have a soul,” Tosh reasoned, “and he’s not trying to kill us all.”
“Because he has a chip in his head!” Willow snarled. “One that could malfunction at any time.”
Tosh groaned. “But you can’t just charge in there, magic crackling and ... what are you planning, exactly?”
“I’m planning to drive something wooden and pointy through his heart,” Willow said.
Tosh put her hand out to block Willow’s progress and pushed her back against to wall, pinning her against it, fearsomely. “Willow, use your brain. Buffy obviously likes Spike otherwise she wouldn’t be ... well ... doing what she’s doing. And it’s her life, it’s her choice.”
“But it’s my fault she’s like this!” Willow moaned. “I brought her back, out of heaven into hell ... and now she’s in Cardiff.”
“What do you mean you brought her out of heaven?” Tosh asked as a tear slipped down Willow’ face.
“She sacrificed herself to save Dawn and I ... I wouldn’t let go of her. I used magic to bring her back, but I brought her out of heaven and now she’s trapped here in her hell.” She slid down the wall, bringing Tosh with her, until she was sat on the floor, face cradled in her hands. “It’s all my fault...”
10:01
“So what do you think about Little Miss Perfect?” Faith asked, sat on Owen’s autopsy table, legs swinging, as he worked.
“Who?” Owen was distracted, something Faith was very annoyed by, so, as he was bending down in front of her, she kicked out and poked him in the butt with her boot. “Ow!” he complained, straightening up and rubbing his backside. “What was that for?”
“You were ignoring me.”
Owen rolled his eyes. “I answered you, didn’t I? I asked who you were talking about.”
“Buffy of course,” Faith informed him.
“She doesn’t seem that perfect to me,” Owen said, turning away from Faith to continue looking for what he was failing to find.
“So you don't like her then?”
Owen stood up straight again and looked at Faith sideways. “I didn’t say that.”
“You like her then?”
“Why do I feel like I’m being interrogated?” Owen demanded, irritably, standing up straight again, ready to defend himself if Faith decided to copy Buffy and beat him up.
“Just curious,” Faith said, with a shrug. “Everyone seems to like Buffy and not me.”
“I like both of you,” Owen reasoned, defensively.
Faith grinned, almost manically. “That’s good,” she said, hopping of the autopsy table and walking across until she was mere inches from the terrified doctor, her hand grasping his white coat. “Because I like you, too.”
Owen gulped, audibly.
“Scared?”
“No,” he hissed, dodging under her arm and backing into the autopsy table. “I just ... uh ...”
“Strong women make you nervous?” Faith asked, walking towards him, a predatory expression on her face.
Owen shook his head. “No,” he insisted, trying to decide whether to jump her or run.
“Just the Slayer then?” Faith continued.
“No,” Owen said for the third time, knocking over a tray of equipment, a scalpel landing on his foot. He yelped, angrily, and jumped up and down as Faith laughed.
“Then why are you avoiding me?” she breathed, bringing her face in close to his.
“I’m not,” Owen said, his voice a few octaves higher as he dodged Faith. “I just have to ... go over there!” With that, he dodged under her arm again and fled up the stairs, leaving her to laugh hysterically.
10:07
Knock, knock. “Buffy? It’s Ianto; I have some clothes for you.”
Buffy sat up in bed with a sigh and, before she remembered Spike was lying next to her, called out, “Come in.”
Ianto opened the door and came in, with a large bag of clothes. “Here,” he said, putting the bag down on the foot of the bed as Buffy got up, kicking Spike as she went, straightening her shirt as she went and smoothing down her hair (hey, she may be emotionally-detached, but she can still spot a hottie!).
“Anything good?” she asked.
Ianto looked at her sideways. “See for yourself,” he said, glancing warily at Spike, who was sat up and glowering darkly at the Welshman.
Buffy opened the bag and peeked inside, pulling out a couple of pairs of jeans, a skirt or two and a variety of tops and shirts. All her size. “How did you know my size?” she asked.
“My dad was a master tailor,” Ianto replied, with a smile.
Buffy smiled, back, although it was a haunted smile. “Thank you,” she said.
“I didn’t get anything for you,” Ianto said to Spike. “It was mentioned to me that you did not need a change of clothes.”
Spike rolled his eyes and flopped back on the bed with a sigh. Ianto smiled at Buffy and left the room, leaving Buffy to throw a pair of her jeans at Spike, petulantly, who yelped, “Hey!”
Ianto’s next stop was Willow’s room, where, finding it was empty, he deposited the next bag on her bed and, as he turned to go, took in the sight of Tosh’s clothes from the previous day lying, abandoned, on the floor. Jumping to accurate conclusions, he smiled very slightly, and left the room.
The next room was Xander and Anya’s. Ianto walked up to the door and knocked on it. “Come in,” Anya shouted. The young man walked into the room to find Anya and Xander in opposite corners of the room, facing each other and glowering darkly. “I want to go home, Xander!” Anya complained. “I don't care if this world has hot women!”
“I didn’t say that, Ahn,” Xander argued back. “I said it had one hot woman. One.”
“I have a magic shop to get back to!” Anya whined. “Don't you care about that, Xander?”
Ianto looked like he was watching a tennis match, looking between each of them. “Uh ...” he said, just to be ignored.
“What exactly am I supposed to do?” Xander demanded. “I’m not a witch or a Slayer or one of these Torchwood guys!” He gestured wildly at Ianto, who nearly lost an eye in the process. “I’m just me and I have to go with the flow.”
“Well, thanks to you we don't have a witch anymore!” Anya griped.
“Thanks to me?” Xander yelped. “Since when was it me who got addicted to the magicks and went loopy? Anyway, it was Tara who pointed out that fact. If you want to blame someone, blame her!”
“Tara isn’t here,” Anya pointed out. “So I have to blame you!”
Ianto, who had, by now, had his fill of their squabble, walked between them, put the two bags down on the bed and said, “Clothes,” before turning and striding out of the room, leaving them to continue their argument in private.
Judging by the loud crashing sound as he left, Anya decided to turn it into a violent argument. He somehow doubted Xander had the balls to throw something.
10:34
Jack was feeling depressed as he watched Owen, Tosh, Willow and Faith interact down below. He knew how the newcomers must feel; confused and lost, out of time and out of place. He wondered, idly, if maybe there was a way to make them feel like one of the gang.
“I delivered the clothing to our guests,” Ianto said, walking into Jack’s office with a bag.
“What’s in the bag then?” Jack enquired, walking towards Ianto and sitting on his desk.
“Something for us,” Ianto replied, with a slightly devilish look.
“Oh?” Jack said, cheering up, considerably. “And what would that be?”
“Well,” Ianto conceded. “Not something ... rather ... some things ...”
Jack’s eyes widened and he grinned, leaning over to look inside the bag. Before he could take a peek, however, Ianto moved it away. “Hey!” he complained, trying to grab at the bag.
“Ah, ah, ah!” Ianto said. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”
Jack pouted like a kid on Christmas Eve. “Not even a peek?” he begged.
“Nope,” Ianto replied, bending down and kissing Jack, gently. “You’ll just have to wait until later.”
“How much later?” Jack demanded.
“Bedtime,” Ianto informed him.
“Now can be bedtime.”
Letting out a chuckle, Ianto shook his head. “No, I mean bedtime tonight,” he said. “Not bed time when you decide.” He looked at Jack for a moment. “It’s always bed time for you,” he pointed out.
“Nothing wrong with being flexible,” Jack said, smirking and reaching out to pull Ianto in for a kiss.
The Welshman resisted, however, and put his hand up. “You wanted to see me?”
Jack grinned. “I always want to see you.”
Rolling his eyes, Ianto said, “If you don't have a good reason to summon me to your office ...”
“I do,” Jack said, slightly desperate to keep him there. After all, the longer Ianto stayed in the office, the more chance Jack had to see inside the bag or, better still, get the younger man naked. “I’m taking the group out tonight, you included.”
“Where to?” Ianto asked.
“That’s for me to know,” Jack said, as he saw Faith walking up the office and hopped off his desk to stand up, “and you to puzzle and obsess over.” He leant forward and kissed Ianto hard for a moment, pulling back when the office door opened. “Faith!” he said, cheerily, ignoring the deeply suspicious look Ianto was giving him. “What can I do for you?”
10:40
“I keep saying this; I’m sorry, okay?”
“It really hurt!”
“I thought it was a lot lighter than that ...”
“You picked it up! You should have known it was heavy!”
“You were only unconscious for a minute!”
Owen watched the couple argue as he patched up Xander’s head and was silently thankful he wasn’t in a long-term relationship.
“But I was unconscious, Ahn,” Xander moaned. “Ouch!” he yelped, as Owen poked his head. “You have a lousy bedside manner.”
Owen shrugged. “So I’ve been told. That’s why I don't work in a hospital anymore.”
“Ouch!” Xander exclaimed again, as Owen poked him a second time. “What was that for?”
“Being a bad patient.” He turned to Anya. “Don't throw things at him in future,” he told her, sternly. “It’s not a good thing.”
“But I want to go home,” Anya whined. “It’s not fair.”
“We all want you to go the bloody hell home,” Owen told her. “But until Tosh can find a way to send you back we’re stuck.” He pulled a face at her. “Now get out of my autopsy bay. Both of you.”
As Xander stood up, Faith popped up behind him and pinched his butt, making him yelp and spin on her, holding up his hands and saying, in a girlish tone, “Don't do that!”
Faith cackled and hopped up onto the autopsy table, grinning evilly at Xander, who shuddered and backed away from her so as not to expose his backside to her again.
“Back again, are you?” Owen said, turning to face Faith, following Xander’s example.
“Yep,” Faith said, with a grin. “Can’t get enough of this place.”
“Shouldn't you be out slaying or something?” he demanded.
“It’s light out, dummy,” Faith said, rolling her eyes. “The sun deals with them for me.”
Owen grimaced. “Shouldn't you be out doing ... something?”
“Trying to get rid of me now, are you?” she asked.
“No,” Owen said, with a sigh. “I’m just busy.”
Faith took in how he was leaning against the wall, tossing a pen in the air and catching it, over and over. “Yeah, you look real swamped.” She hopped down from the table and walked over to him, making his eyes widen. Once she was so close that he could feel her breath on his face, she whispered, “Lovely and private down here.”
“Uh, yeah,” Owen replied, breathlessly.
“Do you feel naughty?” she asked, brushing her lips against his as her hand made swift progress down towards the front of his trousers.
“I’m usually not one for ... naughtiness!” Owen squeaked, as she grabbed him.
“Being naughty can be fun sometimes,” Faith informed him, her other hand gripping his hair and tipping his head backwards as she nipped his throat. He moaned and she took that as an invitation (not like she really needed one) to pull him from the wall and toss him across the autopsy bay to slam into the stairwell.
Vaulting across the autopsy cart, she landed straddling his legs, an evil glint in her eyes. “Let me teach you how to be naughty,” she said, taking pride in the muted nod she received.
Grabbing his arms and pinning them above his head with one hand, she finally captured his mouth in a rough kiss, her tongue invading his mouth without invitation and probing the far corners of his mouth, her foot reaching out and shoving the autopsy cart across the bay with a large crash. Her other hand, rather than unbuttoning his shirt, ripped it open, exposing his smooth chest.
He gasped out as she released his mouth to nip her way down his neck and roughly bite his nipple. “Faith!” he groaned, trying to find the words to argue against doing what they were doing where they were doing it. The words, however, were lost in transit as her free hand found its way into his pants and squeezed.
Wanting better access, Faith, using only one hand, ripped Owen’s jeans and underpants beneath open, pulling him out and exposing him to the cool air, making him groan deep in his throat. “You like that do you?” she whispered in his ear, her tongue darting out to taste his earlobe.
Resisting the overwhelming urge (even though he doubted he could form the word) to say ‘Duh’, Owen threw his head back, banging it against the wall and not even noticing the pain as Faith bent down and took him into her warm mouth. He closed his eyes and noted how versatile her tongue was as it teased him to the point that he thought he was going to come. Just before he got there, though, she pulled back, eyes glinting manically as she reached up and captured his mouth again, allowing him to taste himself on her tongue.
Desperate now, he reached out and tried to rip open her trousers, failing miserably in the attempt. With an evil grin, Faith pulled back enough to undo her trousers and pull them off, tossing them to the floor nearby before lowering herself down onto Owen with a muffled moan.
Owen’s eyes widened as he felt her warmth encompass him and banged his head against the wall as he tried to hold off coming, which wasn’t easy as he watched her ride him. He reached out and teased her clit, revelling in how her eyes widened and she leaned forward to kiss him hard, again, thrusting her tongue violently into his mouth as her movements became rapid and uneven.
As her orgasm hit, Faith’s muscles clenched around Owen, causing his eyes to pop open and his fingers to grip her hips as he thrust upwards a few times, his own orgasm ripping through his system and making him cry out into her mouth.
Exhausted, he leant back against the wall as Faith climbed off him, pulling her pants on and, surprisingly considerately, doing up his pants for him. A quick peck on the lips and she wandered up out of the autopsy bay, past Jack who was leaning against Owen’s desk, and off towards her room for a shower.
10:37
Five minutes before.
Deciding to break the news to Owen that they were all going out together now rather than later, Jack headed out of his office and down the stairs towards the autopsy bay. However, as he approached, he noticed that the autopsy table was on its side by the far wall and he could hear the sound of panting.
Concerned, he quickened his pace, running to the top of the stairs and looking down just in time to see Faith impaling herself upon Owen. Stepping backwards, his face clearly reading ‘Oh!’, Jack wandered over to Owen’s desk and, with a smirk, leant against it, waiting for one of them to emerge.
Sure enough, a couple of minutes later Faith walked past him and off towards her room. Jack cast his eyes around the hub. Willow and Tosh were by Tosh’s computer, Xander and Anya were arguing on the sofa, Owen was unconscious in the autopsy bay below, he’d wager, Buffy was with Spike in her room and Faith was on her way to her own ... He mentally ticked off a list; they had a witch on the wagon, a stupid boy, a vampire, an emotionless Slayer, an incredibly emotive Slayer, the Torchwood group including immortal captain and an ex-demon.
Now all they needed was Jackie Tyler.
Jack silently prayed to any God that existed that she was well and truly trapped in the alternate universe.
~Next Chapter~