And So It Begins... Again: Part 3 (6/10)
Title: Part 3 - In Your Honour: Chapter 6
Rating: 15 to NC17
* changes through the Part
Characters/Pairings: Team, Martha, Ten ; Jack/Ianto
Spoilers: S1, 2x01, Minor DW 3x12, 3x13
Warnings: Mild violence; M/M relations; ANGST
Summary: Jack realises that the tranquiliser will wear off sooner rather than later...
[ The 'And So It Begins... Again' Saga ]
Disclaimer: Torchwood belongs to Russel T. Davies, I sadly don't own them... All lyrics belong to Foo Fighters
Author's Note: Another chapter up, yay =] Thankyou to everyone who commented and wanted more, I'm so glad you're all enjoying this! I've definitly decided to finish this part and I'll take it as it goes.. riding with the wind and whatnot. The important thing to me is that people are enjoying it =]
Thinking of someone to shout out to, and I'm thinking srah_scottydog today, because she included West Wing in a fic and then I read some of her stuff.. so w/e - not even sure if she's reading this!! Lol, owned.
---
Chapter 6
“Cages and alarms, Keeping us from harm
I will be the guard, Hope to rest upon”
-Over and Out, Foo Fighters
Owen had assured Jack that the tranquilliser would last for good long time, well into the night, but despite that, Jack still asked him to stay. The women went home at the usual time. Jack and Owen shuffled through work, finishing off filing and archiving that Ianto would normally have done.
It was past midnight when they heard movements from within the office. Jack looked up sharply at the groans coming from behind the door and made his way cautiously over to it. He stood and listened to what was going on inside. He could hear Ianto shuffling around, muttering about his arm. Jack felt a twinge in his stomach, sincerely hoping he hadn’t done too much damage.
Then he saw the door handle twist uselessly and heard the hissed swearing in response. Owen was creeping up behind him, standing back and waiting for a command from Jack if he was needed. Both men jumped when they heard Ianto’s fist connect with the door.
It was followed by more swearing and more pounding. When that abated there was more rattling of the door handle and a frantic stream of muttering, slightly hysterical.
“Jack?!” The pounding started again, accompanied by something that sounded sickeningly like nails scratching at the wood. “Let me out of here!”
Ianto’s voice was full of fear and anguish and Jack reached unconsciously for the key in his pocket. He didn’t realise until Owen grabbed his wrist, making him look up. The doctor shook his head and Jack nodded slightly. He leaned back against the wall and forced himself to listen to Ianto’s yelling and pleading. It flickered between anger and violence to heart wrenching begging, pain and fear present throughout.
Jack had just about had enough when the noise stopped. There was a faint thump and a sliding noise and the sound of sobbing. Jack looked back at Owen who nodded slowly and let him open the door.
When Ianto heard the click of the lock, he pushed himself away from the wood and scrabbled clumsily to his feet, backing as far from it as he could manage. He watched as the silhouette of Jack marked out against the lights from the hub and he winced as the man flicked the lamp on, sending a moody lighting throughout the room.
He felt the most conflicting emotions he’d ever experienced, warring inside him for control. Part of him was furious at the man in front of him for drugging him and locking him away, for forcing him into a sleep he didn’t want. The next part was terrified of him, not wanting to go anywhere near him in case he did it again. The final part of him just wanted to curl up in his arms and cry until everything was right again.
He lunged forwards and planted a surprisingly co-ordinated punch on Jack’s jaw, sending him spinning off into the door frame. He darted for the open door, but Jack was too quick and slammed it before he could get through, holding it closed as Ianto battled with him for escape.
The young man felt all strength suddenly leave him and pounded feebly a few times on the wood as he sagged forwards, eyes closed. He felt Jack’s hands grasp the top of his arms again and shake him lightly, forcing him to look up in confusion and make eye contact. He saw with a stab of guilt that Jack’s eyes were red, tears spilling out, his jaw set in grim determination.
Ianto watched him for a long time, slowly realising his face was in a similar state to Jack’s. He studied the expression, tried to find even a trace of malice in it, but failed. His eyes poured pure, unadulterated concern and affection. It was too much for Ianto.
He closed his eyes to stop the ache rippling out from his heart and felt his knees buckle, Jack pulling him tightly against him. Ianto vaguely noted that crying like a wounded animal, crying like when he’d held Lisa’s maimed, lifeless body for the last time.
All the pain and fear and guilt he’d been feeling released itself in full, blinding force as he clung to Jack, begging for forgiveness. He felt Jack’s arms wind around him, holding him firmly, reassuringly. He could feel that his lover, too, was crying, silently, his breathing ragged as he tried to keep control of himself.
I promised I wouldn’t betray him again, but look what I’ve done… Ianto thought in horror, tightening his grip on Jack’s shirt. The captain felt the slight shift and gritted his teeth once more, determined to stop the tears in their tracks.
He remembered the time Gwen had fought against him when Rhys died - the same feeling of helplessness gripped him now. All he could do was hold Ianto until the howls of pain abated, trying to ignore his raw and bloodied knuckles from the pounding on the door.
It seemed to stretch on for an eternity, but eventually Ianto’s grip slackened, falling into sobs that wracked his body. Jack allowed them both to sink to the floor, sticking his legs out in front of him and pulling Ianto’s prone form onto his lap, his arms still tightly around him.
“Why, Jack?” His voice was cracked and tearful, another jolt to the stomach.
“I couldn’t, Ianto… It was my fault already, I didn’t want you to be in any more danger because of me.” His own voice was thick with tears. “It was the only way to keep you safe…”
He nodded slowly and gripped onto the front of Jack’s shirt again with one hand, the other winding it’s way into his hair for comfort. Jack got the strong feeling of holding a child, cradling it as the last remnants of a nightmare were shaken off. The sobs diminished and the ragged breathing evened out and Jack realised Ianto had fallen asleep. He tentatively pressed his earpiece and opened a line to Owen.
“You can go home now, Owen.” His voice was weary, cracked and tired, as if he’d been in a yelling match for hours.
“Is everything alright in there now?” The rare concern in Owen’s voice soothed Jack a little. It was good to know his team were standing by him.
“No, but it’s not any worse.” They exchanged a few more pleasantries before Owen closed off the communications and Jack heard him wandering around outside, collecting together his things so he could go home. Jack sighed to himself and started to rock Ianto’s sleeping body gently, more for his own benefit than for Ianto’s.
Soon, strain that the emotional turmoil had put on his mind caught up with him and he found himself following Ianto into an uneasy sleep.
*
Jack’s eyes snapped open as he heard a clang from outside the office. He almost jumped up, but realised, just in time, that Ianto was still curled up on him. He sighed and stroked the young man’s hair gently before easing the door open and trying to peer out.
He successfully caught a glimpse of Tosh cursing and picking up her desk tidy which had apparently fallen to the floor. Sighing again, he wrapped his arms tighter around the warm body before him and closed his eyes, wondering what the day would bring for the two of them.
A while later, he heard voices drifting through the door and realised that Owen and Gwen had also turned up. He made up his mind, then and there, to put Ianto on sick leave.
The Welshman was in no fit state to be working, but Jack needed him to be somewhere safe, so the hub was the best place for him, at least for the time being. Silently, he wondered how he couldn’t have come to that conclusion the previous day
He looked down at Ianto again and gently kissed his head. The young man started and woke suddenly, his hands gripping on tighter to his shirt and neck. He looked up fearfully at Jack, who simply smiled down at him. The look in Ianto’s eyes soothed and he managed a weary smile back which gave Jack a small spark of encouragement.
Jack gingerly shifted and got to his feet, supporting Ianto upright and guiding him over to the sofa. The young man collapsed down into the nest of bedding and cushions and promptly fell asleep again. Jack smiled sadly at the young man and thought about the mess of chemicals still in his body. He had no doubt that the sleeping pills and tranquilliser were still working on him, together they’d been a huge dose.
He sat and watched Ianto a while longer, stroking his hair, covering him up and smoothing out the blanket, making sure he was comfortable. He’d never thought he could be this domesticated and allowed himself a small smile, a little chuckle at the wonderful absurdity of his current situation.
He’d spent so many years travelling, rebelling against everything he deemed to be ‘normal’, killing himself for money, sleeping with men, women… even a few beings he hadn’t been able to identify in the morning… None of them compared to the man now lying before him, sleeping like a small child.
He watched his sleeping and the peaceful face morphed to that of the one he’d first seen.
The weevil was one of the stronger ones. It had lured him right out into the local forest, and they were standing in a clearing, snarling at each other. Jack stared it in the eye and feinted to the right, it realised the trick and lunged right at him, knocking him back into a tree.
That was when the fist fight began. He was managing to hold his ground, but the weevil lifted him off his feet and he adjusted his weight to bring them both crashing to the floor. He rolled and punched down at the weevil a couple of times, but he was overpowered.
He felt sharp teeth at his neck, knowing he was going to suffer another death at the hands… or rather teeth of the weevil, he screamed in pain, as even though he was immortal, having your jugular ripped open by numerous serrated pieces of ivory hurt like hell. He was ready for the black fog to curl in when he saw feet next to him and felt a blow to the creature on top of him.
Another blow and the weevil looked up at the young man who’d come to his rescue. The weevil got up and started to attack him, and Jack took the chance to fumble for the weevil spray in his pocket. When he had it in hand, he dived at the alien, knocking it off the man and to the floor.
He pinned it down, disorientated it with the spray and pulled the hood from his coat, slipping it over the weevil’s ugly, stubbly head. He gave it the sedative injection to the neck for the final touch before rubbing his neck. Healing really did hurt like a bitch.
It was then that he took in the young man before him. He stood confidently, dressed in tight jeans and a leather jacket. He smiled inwardly at the studded leather belt hooked through the loops of the jeans and made a mental note that he now found that attractive in a guy.
“Thanks.” The voice that came from the man was one of the sexiest welsh accents he’d heard in a long time. There was a lilt to it that suggested he’d lived somewhere else for a while which emphasised the way the natural accent spun the vowels.
“No, thank you.” He rubbed his neck where the skin had melded together, glancing at his bloodied knuckles. “And you are?”
“Jones, Ianto Jones.” The young man leaned against the tree, needing to steady himself a little from the fight. Not as much as he should need to… But hey, he does look like an athlete of some sort… Jack had to suppress the laugh that tickled his throat at that thought.
“Nice to meet you, Jones Ianto Jones.” Jack leaned forwards and shook the young man’s hand. The unintentional introduction being too much for him to pass over. He was sure this Ianto guy wouldn’t hold it against him. “Captain Jack Harkness.”
“Lucky escape.” He smiled and looked down at the weevil, and Jack was surprised to see that he didn’t flinch at the sight of the hunched back and abnormal hand structure, the claws curled into fists from the sedative. He seemed to be analysing the situation, like one of his team would have.
“I had it under control.” Jack looked from the weevil to the young man, a little insulted that he thought he’d needed help, even if he actually had done.
“You think so? It looked pretty vicious.” That made him chuckle a little. This guy wasn’t half bad. Maybe they’d have some fun before he retconned him later on. “You’re um…” The young man’s hand came forwards to touch his still sore neck and he leaned back instinctively to stop skin contact. The man noticed the lack of flesh wounds and stopped, correcting himself. “You were, bleeding”
“I’ve had worse from shaving.” Perhaps that saucy night in wouldn’t be appropriate now, though the look on Ianto Jones’ face didn’t suggest repulsion, just a vague amusement and interest before he looked back at the unconscious weevil again.
“It looked like a weevil to me…” Warning bells were set off in Jack’s head, but he didn’t miss a beat.
“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.” The man gave him a look that suggested to, no, informed Jack that he knew it was a bare faced lie. That intrigued him no end. “I’ll take him from here”
He stepped closer to the weevil and pulled it up and onto his shoulders, carrying it in a fireman’s lift before sighing and looking at the young man for a final time before heading back to the SUV.
“Thanks for the assistance.” There was a slight challenge in the young man’s eyes that he met with his own, interest still bubbling inside him. He would be checking this guy out as soon as he got back to the hub.
“Anytime.” He walked away, back turned to the cute young Welshman. That accent really is quite arousing, Jack’s thoughts carried him off so much he almost didn’t hear the last sentence. “By the way, I love the coat.”
He shook his head, knowing that the night time of fun he was imagining was never going to happen. Something told him that this guy was more than just a member of the public to be duped and forgotten about. He had a feeling this wasn’t the last time he’d see Jones Ianto Jones.
He’d been right. The next morning, on leaving the Tourist Office, he’d been met with the young man offering him a cup of coffee. He took it and was blown away by the first mouthful. Maybe I could hire him just to make the coffee… I don’t think the others would protest.
When he said he wanted to work for him, Jack had to remember that the guy was a liability. A cast off of Torchwood London. He’d have been trained to think that the Doctor - his Doctor - was the biggest threat to humanity that there was. He couldn’t allow someone like that into the hub.
Ianto had been persistent, almost to the point of convincing Jack to give him a job, especially as he was just as attractive by daylight as he had been by the moon.
But it had annoyed him when he’d insinuated that Jack owed him for the loss of Torchwood London, for the horrific memories he was bound have of Canary Wharf. Still, he couldn’t help but smile to himself as the second compliment about his coat drifted along the board walk to him.
The pterodactyl incident had been nothing short of spectacular. Not only had he seen how the man worked - methodically and efficiently - but he’d seen him in action. He wasn’t phased by a hungry dinosaur at all, or his overly obvious sexual banter. In fact, he’d managed to keep a cool and witty exterior for the entire time. Despite the offer to be the guard dog or the butler, he was becoming more attractive to Jack by the second.
When they’d been knocked over and were lying on the floor, Jack got flashbacks of the thoughts from their first meeting. He felt a throb of disappointment when Ianto got up. He took another look at the young man as he walked away, admiring the ‘view’. He looked really good in a suit. Really good.
“I like the suit, by the way.”
And so it had all begun.
Jack sighed, took one last look at the sleeping man and got up, heading out of his office and round to the work stations. Tosh was sitting at hers and diligently working through her current project, the new rift predictor program, muttering to herself as she worked.
He looked round to see Gwen and Owen talking to each other at Owen’s desk. They looked up as they noticed Jack walking towards them and Gwen smiled sympathetically. Owen had obviously filled her in on the events of the night before.
“Jack… What’re you going to do about Ianto?” Owen looked at him seriously, arms folded across his chest. Jack just sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. It was a little sore from the odd angle he’d had it at whilst he slept.
“Keep him here, until he’s orientated again. Then I’m sending him home, a few days of sick leave should get him back on his feet enough for work.” Owen opened his mouth to protest. “He needs normality… You know Ianto, he’d started filing his kitchen utensils in alphabetical order if we left him for too long.”
The joke hung in the air with an ironic reality. They all knew something like that would happen if Jack sent Ianto home. He sighed and looked back up to his office.
“For now, I’ll just keep him here…” He walked back over to his office, muttering to himself. I’ll keep you safe, Ianto, he thought, the words ringing hollow as helplessness settled in his stomach once more.
---
TBC - thanks for reading guys! Chapter 7A
A/N 2: When I first wrote this, Fragments had JUST been aired for the first time. My good friend Naomi asked me to write the initial meeting from Jack's POV, and I slotted it into this chapter =] I hope it worked and wasn't too gratuitous.
Rating: 15 to NC17
* changes through the Part
Characters/Pairings: Team, Martha, Ten ; Jack/Ianto
Spoilers: S1, 2x01, Minor DW 3x12, 3x13
Warnings: Mild violence; M/M relations; ANGST
Summary: Jack realises that the tranquiliser will wear off sooner rather than later...
[ The 'And So It Begins... Again' Saga ]
Disclaimer: Torchwood belongs to Russel T. Davies, I sadly don't own them... All lyrics belong to Foo Fighters
Author's Note: Another chapter up, yay =] Thankyou to everyone who commented and wanted more, I'm so glad you're all enjoying this! I've definitly decided to finish this part and I'll take it as it goes.. riding with the wind and whatnot. The important thing to me is that people are enjoying it =]
Thinking of someone to shout out to, and I'm thinking srah_scottydog today, because she included West Wing in a fic and then I read some of her stuff.. so w/e - not even sure if she's reading this!! Lol, owned.
---
Chapter 6
“Cages and alarms, Keeping us from harm
I will be the guard, Hope to rest upon”
-Over and Out, Foo Fighters
Owen had assured Jack that the tranquilliser would last for good long time, well into the night, but despite that, Jack still asked him to stay. The women went home at the usual time. Jack and Owen shuffled through work, finishing off filing and archiving that Ianto would normally have done.
It was past midnight when they heard movements from within the office. Jack looked up sharply at the groans coming from behind the door and made his way cautiously over to it. He stood and listened to what was going on inside. He could hear Ianto shuffling around, muttering about his arm. Jack felt a twinge in his stomach, sincerely hoping he hadn’t done too much damage.
Then he saw the door handle twist uselessly and heard the hissed swearing in response. Owen was creeping up behind him, standing back and waiting for a command from Jack if he was needed. Both men jumped when they heard Ianto’s fist connect with the door.
It was followed by more swearing and more pounding. When that abated there was more rattling of the door handle and a frantic stream of muttering, slightly hysterical.
“Jack?!” The pounding started again, accompanied by something that sounded sickeningly like nails scratching at the wood. “Let me out of here!”
Ianto’s voice was full of fear and anguish and Jack reached unconsciously for the key in his pocket. He didn’t realise until Owen grabbed his wrist, making him look up. The doctor shook his head and Jack nodded slightly. He leaned back against the wall and forced himself to listen to Ianto’s yelling and pleading. It flickered between anger and violence to heart wrenching begging, pain and fear present throughout.
Jack had just about had enough when the noise stopped. There was a faint thump and a sliding noise and the sound of sobbing. Jack looked back at Owen who nodded slowly and let him open the door.
When Ianto heard the click of the lock, he pushed himself away from the wood and scrabbled clumsily to his feet, backing as far from it as he could manage. He watched as the silhouette of Jack marked out against the lights from the hub and he winced as the man flicked the lamp on, sending a moody lighting throughout the room.
He felt the most conflicting emotions he’d ever experienced, warring inside him for control. Part of him was furious at the man in front of him for drugging him and locking him away, for forcing him into a sleep he didn’t want. The next part was terrified of him, not wanting to go anywhere near him in case he did it again. The final part of him just wanted to curl up in his arms and cry until everything was right again.
He lunged forwards and planted a surprisingly co-ordinated punch on Jack’s jaw, sending him spinning off into the door frame. He darted for the open door, but Jack was too quick and slammed it before he could get through, holding it closed as Ianto battled with him for escape.
The young man felt all strength suddenly leave him and pounded feebly a few times on the wood as he sagged forwards, eyes closed. He felt Jack’s hands grasp the top of his arms again and shake him lightly, forcing him to look up in confusion and make eye contact. He saw with a stab of guilt that Jack’s eyes were red, tears spilling out, his jaw set in grim determination.
Ianto watched him for a long time, slowly realising his face was in a similar state to Jack’s. He studied the expression, tried to find even a trace of malice in it, but failed. His eyes poured pure, unadulterated concern and affection. It was too much for Ianto.
He closed his eyes to stop the ache rippling out from his heart and felt his knees buckle, Jack pulling him tightly against him. Ianto vaguely noted that crying like a wounded animal, crying like when he’d held Lisa’s maimed, lifeless body for the last time.
All the pain and fear and guilt he’d been feeling released itself in full, blinding force as he clung to Jack, begging for forgiveness. He felt Jack’s arms wind around him, holding him firmly, reassuringly. He could feel that his lover, too, was crying, silently, his breathing ragged as he tried to keep control of himself.
I promised I wouldn’t betray him again, but look what I’ve done… Ianto thought in horror, tightening his grip on Jack’s shirt. The captain felt the slight shift and gritted his teeth once more, determined to stop the tears in their tracks.
He remembered the time Gwen had fought against him when Rhys died - the same feeling of helplessness gripped him now. All he could do was hold Ianto until the howls of pain abated, trying to ignore his raw and bloodied knuckles from the pounding on the door.
It seemed to stretch on for an eternity, but eventually Ianto’s grip slackened, falling into sobs that wracked his body. Jack allowed them both to sink to the floor, sticking his legs out in front of him and pulling Ianto’s prone form onto his lap, his arms still tightly around him.
“Why, Jack?” His voice was cracked and tearful, another jolt to the stomach.
“I couldn’t, Ianto… It was my fault already, I didn’t want you to be in any more danger because of me.” His own voice was thick with tears. “It was the only way to keep you safe…”
He nodded slowly and gripped onto the front of Jack’s shirt again with one hand, the other winding it’s way into his hair for comfort. Jack got the strong feeling of holding a child, cradling it as the last remnants of a nightmare were shaken off. The sobs diminished and the ragged breathing evened out and Jack realised Ianto had fallen asleep. He tentatively pressed his earpiece and opened a line to Owen.
“You can go home now, Owen.” His voice was weary, cracked and tired, as if he’d been in a yelling match for hours.
“Is everything alright in there now?” The rare concern in Owen’s voice soothed Jack a little. It was good to know his team were standing by him.
“No, but it’s not any worse.” They exchanged a few more pleasantries before Owen closed off the communications and Jack heard him wandering around outside, collecting together his things so he could go home. Jack sighed to himself and started to rock Ianto’s sleeping body gently, more for his own benefit than for Ianto’s.
Soon, strain that the emotional turmoil had put on his mind caught up with him and he found himself following Ianto into an uneasy sleep.
*
Jack’s eyes snapped open as he heard a clang from outside the office. He almost jumped up, but realised, just in time, that Ianto was still curled up on him. He sighed and stroked the young man’s hair gently before easing the door open and trying to peer out.
He successfully caught a glimpse of Tosh cursing and picking up her desk tidy which had apparently fallen to the floor. Sighing again, he wrapped his arms tighter around the warm body before him and closed his eyes, wondering what the day would bring for the two of them.
A while later, he heard voices drifting through the door and realised that Owen and Gwen had also turned up. He made up his mind, then and there, to put Ianto on sick leave.
The Welshman was in no fit state to be working, but Jack needed him to be somewhere safe, so the hub was the best place for him, at least for the time being. Silently, he wondered how he couldn’t have come to that conclusion the previous day
He looked down at Ianto again and gently kissed his head. The young man started and woke suddenly, his hands gripping on tighter to his shirt and neck. He looked up fearfully at Jack, who simply smiled down at him. The look in Ianto’s eyes soothed and he managed a weary smile back which gave Jack a small spark of encouragement.
Jack gingerly shifted and got to his feet, supporting Ianto upright and guiding him over to the sofa. The young man collapsed down into the nest of bedding and cushions and promptly fell asleep again. Jack smiled sadly at the young man and thought about the mess of chemicals still in his body. He had no doubt that the sleeping pills and tranquilliser were still working on him, together they’d been a huge dose.
He sat and watched Ianto a while longer, stroking his hair, covering him up and smoothing out the blanket, making sure he was comfortable. He’d never thought he could be this domesticated and allowed himself a small smile, a little chuckle at the wonderful absurdity of his current situation.
He’d spent so many years travelling, rebelling against everything he deemed to be ‘normal’, killing himself for money, sleeping with men, women… even a few beings he hadn’t been able to identify in the morning… None of them compared to the man now lying before him, sleeping like a small child.
He watched his sleeping and the peaceful face morphed to that of the one he’d first seen.
The weevil was one of the stronger ones. It had lured him right out into the local forest, and they were standing in a clearing, snarling at each other. Jack stared it in the eye and feinted to the right, it realised the trick and lunged right at him, knocking him back into a tree.
That was when the fist fight began. He was managing to hold his ground, but the weevil lifted him off his feet and he adjusted his weight to bring them both crashing to the floor. He rolled and punched down at the weevil a couple of times, but he was overpowered.
He felt sharp teeth at his neck, knowing he was going to suffer another death at the hands… or rather teeth of the weevil, he screamed in pain, as even though he was immortal, having your jugular ripped open by numerous serrated pieces of ivory hurt like hell. He was ready for the black fog to curl in when he saw feet next to him and felt a blow to the creature on top of him.
Another blow and the weevil looked up at the young man who’d come to his rescue. The weevil got up and started to attack him, and Jack took the chance to fumble for the weevil spray in his pocket. When he had it in hand, he dived at the alien, knocking it off the man and to the floor.
He pinned it down, disorientated it with the spray and pulled the hood from his coat, slipping it over the weevil’s ugly, stubbly head. He gave it the sedative injection to the neck for the final touch before rubbing his neck. Healing really did hurt like a bitch.
It was then that he took in the young man before him. He stood confidently, dressed in tight jeans and a leather jacket. He smiled inwardly at the studded leather belt hooked through the loops of the jeans and made a mental note that he now found that attractive in a guy.
“Thanks.” The voice that came from the man was one of the sexiest welsh accents he’d heard in a long time. There was a lilt to it that suggested he’d lived somewhere else for a while which emphasised the way the natural accent spun the vowels.
“No, thank you.” He rubbed his neck where the skin had melded together, glancing at his bloodied knuckles. “And you are?”
“Jones, Ianto Jones.” The young man leaned against the tree, needing to steady himself a little from the fight. Not as much as he should need to… But hey, he does look like an athlete of some sort… Jack had to suppress the laugh that tickled his throat at that thought.
“Nice to meet you, Jones Ianto Jones.” Jack leaned forwards and shook the young man’s hand. The unintentional introduction being too much for him to pass over. He was sure this Ianto guy wouldn’t hold it against him. “Captain Jack Harkness.”
“Lucky escape.” He smiled and looked down at the weevil, and Jack was surprised to see that he didn’t flinch at the sight of the hunched back and abnormal hand structure, the claws curled into fists from the sedative. He seemed to be analysing the situation, like one of his team would have.
“I had it under control.” Jack looked from the weevil to the young man, a little insulted that he thought he’d needed help, even if he actually had done.
“You think so? It looked pretty vicious.” That made him chuckle a little. This guy wasn’t half bad. Maybe they’d have some fun before he retconned him later on. “You’re um…” The young man’s hand came forwards to touch his still sore neck and he leaned back instinctively to stop skin contact. The man noticed the lack of flesh wounds and stopped, correcting himself. “You were, bleeding”
“I’ve had worse from shaving.” Perhaps that saucy night in wouldn’t be appropriate now, though the look on Ianto Jones’ face didn’t suggest repulsion, just a vague amusement and interest before he looked back at the unconscious weevil again.
“It looked like a weevil to me…” Warning bells were set off in Jack’s head, but he didn’t miss a beat.
“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.” The man gave him a look that suggested to, no, informed Jack that he knew it was a bare faced lie. That intrigued him no end. “I’ll take him from here”
He stepped closer to the weevil and pulled it up and onto his shoulders, carrying it in a fireman’s lift before sighing and looking at the young man for a final time before heading back to the SUV.
“Thanks for the assistance.” There was a slight challenge in the young man’s eyes that he met with his own, interest still bubbling inside him. He would be checking this guy out as soon as he got back to the hub.
“Anytime.” He walked away, back turned to the cute young Welshman. That accent really is quite arousing, Jack’s thoughts carried him off so much he almost didn’t hear the last sentence. “By the way, I love the coat.”
He shook his head, knowing that the night time of fun he was imagining was never going to happen. Something told him that this guy was more than just a member of the public to be duped and forgotten about. He had a feeling this wasn’t the last time he’d see Jones Ianto Jones.
He’d been right. The next morning, on leaving the Tourist Office, he’d been met with the young man offering him a cup of coffee. He took it and was blown away by the first mouthful. Maybe I could hire him just to make the coffee… I don’t think the others would protest.
When he said he wanted to work for him, Jack had to remember that the guy was a liability. A cast off of Torchwood London. He’d have been trained to think that the Doctor - his Doctor - was the biggest threat to humanity that there was. He couldn’t allow someone like that into the hub.
Ianto had been persistent, almost to the point of convincing Jack to give him a job, especially as he was just as attractive by daylight as he had been by the moon.
But it had annoyed him when he’d insinuated that Jack owed him for the loss of Torchwood London, for the horrific memories he was bound have of Canary Wharf. Still, he couldn’t help but smile to himself as the second compliment about his coat drifted along the board walk to him.
The pterodactyl incident had been nothing short of spectacular. Not only had he seen how the man worked - methodically and efficiently - but he’d seen him in action. He wasn’t phased by a hungry dinosaur at all, or his overly obvious sexual banter. In fact, he’d managed to keep a cool and witty exterior for the entire time. Despite the offer to be the guard dog or the butler, he was becoming more attractive to Jack by the second.
When they’d been knocked over and were lying on the floor, Jack got flashbacks of the thoughts from their first meeting. He felt a throb of disappointment when Ianto got up. He took another look at the young man as he walked away, admiring the ‘view’. He looked really good in a suit. Really good.
“I like the suit, by the way.”
And so it had all begun.
Jack sighed, took one last look at the sleeping man and got up, heading out of his office and round to the work stations. Tosh was sitting at hers and diligently working through her current project, the new rift predictor program, muttering to herself as she worked.
He looked round to see Gwen and Owen talking to each other at Owen’s desk. They looked up as they noticed Jack walking towards them and Gwen smiled sympathetically. Owen had obviously filled her in on the events of the night before.
“Jack… What’re you going to do about Ianto?” Owen looked at him seriously, arms folded across his chest. Jack just sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. It was a little sore from the odd angle he’d had it at whilst he slept.
“Keep him here, until he’s orientated again. Then I’m sending him home, a few days of sick leave should get him back on his feet enough for work.” Owen opened his mouth to protest. “He needs normality… You know Ianto, he’d started filing his kitchen utensils in alphabetical order if we left him for too long.”
The joke hung in the air with an ironic reality. They all knew something like that would happen if Jack sent Ianto home. He sighed and looked back up to his office.
“For now, I’ll just keep him here…” He walked back over to his office, muttering to himself. I’ll keep you safe, Ianto, he thought, the words ringing hollow as helplessness settled in his stomach once more.
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TBC - thanks for reading guys! Chapter 7A
A/N 2: When I first wrote this, Fragments had JUST been aired for the first time. My good friend Naomi asked me to write the initial meeting from Jack's POV, and I slotted it into this chapter =] I hope it worked and wasn't too gratuitous.