fic: Never Say Never Again [39/?]
Title: Never Say Never Again
Rating: R [language and Disturbing Jack-Related Themes]
Spoilers: Dead Man Walking
Disclaimer: got my bags packed for the legal boobyhatch already
Summary: Jack's in trouble. Yes, that kind of trouble. What's a pregnant guy to do when the employee handbook says "no guns at the baby shower"...?
Notes: Whacko!AU!Muse gets Plotty again, which is either good or bad depending...
[Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, and 38.]
**********
An hour crept by, and then another, and soon enough Jack found himself yawning into Rosie's fuzzy hair as his employees started to drag in, looking about as strung out as when they'd left but showered and changed, anyway. Jack's Doctor was the only person still not in evidence by the time that the Doctor who wasn't Jack's gently pried the baby from his arms and suggested in no uncertain terms that even though Jack had technically had something resembling sleep recently it still hadn't been sufficient relative to what he'd been through in the last day or so of his subjective timeline. "You just want her to yourselves," Jack mumbled, letting the sandy-haired Doctor tuck one of the Hub's scratchy wool blankets around him. Damn, but it was nice to have someone else around here to take charge of the world once in a while, though...
Jack woke from a puzzlingly banal dream of washing dishes and a banana-smeared toddler to a sudden cry of "You sold us out, you son of a bitch!" Well, that's almost back to just another day at the office, for this place. Jack cast about blearily and somehow failed to be all that surprised to see Owen backed up against a wall by a double fistful of shirt. More surprised that it was Ianto's turn at it, if anything.
"Right, mate, I think it's time for another scan of that head --"
"It's on the tapes! You and Hart!" Another hard shove. Jack thought he could almost see Owen's teeth rattling as his feet left the ground for a moment.
"But, Ianto, we went over every second of..." Tosh paled, putting a hand to her mouth.
Yeah, we went over them, Jack suddenly realized, throwing aside his blanket.
And we had included Owen.
But wait a minute, Ianto hadn't -- "Okay, people, before everyone piles on Owen here, can I ask you what you're basing this on, Ianto? When did you have a chance to get into the security footage?"
"I, erm..." Ianto faltered, looking blank. "I don't know, I... I don't think I have. Yet. I know I... will see them?"
"And since when does Teaboy have the Sight?" Owen demanded, all puffed-up outrage even as Ianto gave him one more knock against the wall.
"This occasionally happens," the sandy-haired Doctor said, not looking particularly concerned. "Call it Mrs Cake syndrome. Ianto grew up around the rift, so he's already unusually sensitive as it is, and that blow to the head must have knocked him off his temporal moorings altogether. Usually resolves itself eventually, until then just try to humour him."
"Check the tapes," Ianto insisted, directing a fierce glare in Owen's direction as Jack pulled him away from his victim. "I know what I saw -- will see?"
Out of the corner of his eye Jack saw Gwen sitting Owen down on the sofa, murmuring a question to which his answer was, "No, my life is absolutely brilliant, my boss thinks he's Batman and I'm living in the sort of film where something horrible happens to Veronica Cartwright, but other than that everything's just bloody peachy, isn't it?" Well, he's all right, anyway...
Jack sighed and tried to resign himself to yet another session in front of the endless security videos. "The sooner we figure this out the better, I guess --"
But Ianto resisted Jack's attempt to tug him into the privacy of Jack's office. "I can't stop to do this now, sir, I was going to have lunch with my mum. It's Christmas, I promised I'd see her."
Jack's chief recollection of Ianto's mother was of a small severe woman, more stylish than the typical pepperpot like Mrs. Jenkins, who had taken her son's rambling improvisation that his boss had grown up in a hippie commune and therefore couldn't really be held responsible for his confused morals with much the same enthusiasm as if he'd just come out and told her that Jack had been raised by wolves. "Perfect. I suppose if I even made you late she'd track me down and slap me again." (For some reason both of the Doctor suddenly seemed to be swallowing the same fit of the giggles.) "All right, we can sort out the causality later, just don't let her know we had anything to do with those spiffy stitches. Tell her you fell off your bicycle or something."
From Ianto's face, he thought that about as plausible a cover story as the actual truth would be, but it got him to clear off without any further attempt to go for Owen's throat. Not that Jack wasn't considering that himself right about now, if only for making him have to spend any more of his time wading through work that he'd thought safely over and done with by now. With a look that he hoped said don't let him go anywhere without being too obvious about it Jack stalked into his office and braced himself to face what he should have been looking at all along. Owen's portion of the security tape review.
Rating: R [language and Disturbing Jack-Related Themes]
Spoilers: Dead Man Walking
Disclaimer: got my bags packed for the legal boobyhatch already
Summary: Jack's in trouble. Yes, that kind of trouble. What's a pregnant guy to do when the employee handbook says "no guns at the baby shower"...?
Notes: Whacko!AU!Muse gets Plotty again, which is either good or bad depending...
[Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, and 38.]
**********
An hour crept by, and then another, and soon enough Jack found himself yawning into Rosie's fuzzy hair as his employees started to drag in, looking about as strung out as when they'd left but showered and changed, anyway. Jack's Doctor was the only person still not in evidence by the time that the Doctor who wasn't Jack's gently pried the baby from his arms and suggested in no uncertain terms that even though Jack had technically had something resembling sleep recently it still hadn't been sufficient relative to what he'd been through in the last day or so of his subjective timeline. "You just want her to yourselves," Jack mumbled, letting the sandy-haired Doctor tuck one of the Hub's scratchy wool blankets around him. Damn, but it was nice to have someone else around here to take charge of the world once in a while, though...
Jack woke from a puzzlingly banal dream of washing dishes and a banana-smeared toddler to a sudden cry of "You sold us out, you son of a bitch!" Well, that's almost back to just another day at the office, for this place. Jack cast about blearily and somehow failed to be all that surprised to see Owen backed up against a wall by a double fistful of shirt. More surprised that it was Ianto's turn at it, if anything.
"Right, mate, I think it's time for another scan of that head --"
"It's on the tapes! You and Hart!" Another hard shove. Jack thought he could almost see Owen's teeth rattling as his feet left the ground for a moment.
"But, Ianto, we went over every second of..." Tosh paled, putting a hand to her mouth.
Yeah, we went over them, Jack suddenly realized, throwing aside his blanket.
And we had included Owen.
But wait a minute, Ianto hadn't -- "Okay, people, before everyone piles on Owen here, can I ask you what you're basing this on, Ianto? When did you have a chance to get into the security footage?"
"I, erm..." Ianto faltered, looking blank. "I don't know, I... I don't think I have. Yet. I know I... will see them?"
"And since when does Teaboy have the Sight?" Owen demanded, all puffed-up outrage even as Ianto gave him one more knock against the wall.
"This occasionally happens," the sandy-haired Doctor said, not looking particularly concerned. "Call it Mrs Cake syndrome. Ianto grew up around the rift, so he's already unusually sensitive as it is, and that blow to the head must have knocked him off his temporal moorings altogether. Usually resolves itself eventually, until then just try to humour him."
"Check the tapes," Ianto insisted, directing a fierce glare in Owen's direction as Jack pulled him away from his victim. "I know what I saw -- will see?"
Out of the corner of his eye Jack saw Gwen sitting Owen down on the sofa, murmuring a question to which his answer was, "No, my life is absolutely brilliant, my boss thinks he's Batman and I'm living in the sort of film where something horrible happens to Veronica Cartwright, but other than that everything's just bloody peachy, isn't it?" Well, he's all right, anyway...
Jack sighed and tried to resign himself to yet another session in front of the endless security videos. "The sooner we figure this out the better, I guess --"
But Ianto resisted Jack's attempt to tug him into the privacy of Jack's office. "I can't stop to do this now, sir, I was going to have lunch with my mum. It's Christmas, I promised I'd see her."
Jack's chief recollection of Ianto's mother was of a small severe woman, more stylish than the typical pepperpot like Mrs. Jenkins, who had taken her son's rambling improvisation that his boss had grown up in a hippie commune and therefore couldn't really be held responsible for his confused morals with much the same enthusiasm as if he'd just come out and told her that Jack had been raised by wolves. "Perfect. I suppose if I even made you late she'd track me down and slap me again." (For some reason both of the Doctor suddenly seemed to be swallowing the same fit of the giggles.) "All right, we can sort out the causality later, just don't let her know we had anything to do with those spiffy stitches. Tell her you fell off your bicycle or something."
From Ianto's face, he thought that about as plausible a cover story as the actual truth would be, but it got him to clear off without any further attempt to go for Owen's throat. Not that Jack wasn't considering that himself right about now, if only for making him have to spend any more of his time wading through work that he'd thought safely over and done with by now. With a look that he hoped said don't let him go anywhere without being too obvious about it Jack stalked into his office and braced himself to face what he should have been looking at all along. Owen's portion of the security tape review.