Canary Wharf Exodus 2/3
Canary Wharf Exodus
Part 2: Interrogation
Pairing: Jack/Ianto if you squint REALLY hard, but its mainly Gen.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: none. Set the day after the Canary Wharf battle.
Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood... believe me... if i did Jack and Ianto would walk around in nothing but tight pants (and a tie for Ianto) The BBC own it. so as much as i love it i don't own it :(
Summary: In the aftermath of the Collapse of Torchwood One, a mysterious figure visits Torchwood three.
part 1 here -- http://jo19844.livejournal.com/10647.html
(OOh and for those who dont know... Dogsbody = a worker who has to do all the unpleasant or boring jobs that no one else wants to do )
also thanks to Bex for betaing it for me (even if she does spam her fic on my comments lol)
Jack walked around to his desk and sat down, gesturing to the seat opposite. Ianto, who had now put his jacket back on, sat down and looked at him. He waited for Jack to speak.
“Talk,” he instructed, leaning back in his chair.
“Where would you like me to start?”
“Why?” Jack asked.
“Why, sir?”
“Why go through all of this bother to find me? Why risk getting Retconned into oblivion?”
“I've run out of options,” he said honestly, “you, and Torchwood three, are my last hope.”
“Explain.”
“Torchwood is all I know; it's all I've ever done and without it I'm not exactly sure who I am.”
“Surely you had a life before Torchwood. “
“When I was sixteen I witnessed something, I knew things that Torchwood was interested in knowing; my father enlisted me as an informant and ever since I've been involved. At eighteen they recruited me to Torchwood London and put me through my degree. Ever since then I've been part of Torchwood; it's who I am, it's my identity and without it I have nothing.” Ianto looked directly at Jack as he explained, never blinking or removing his gaze.
Jack looked at him for a second and watched him; he was impeccably dressed, even after the brief frisking, and his eyes were piercing blue. He looked him in the eye and saw no fear, or apprehension. Jack opened his mouth and closed it again as he let the information sink in.
“Why did your father enlist you?” he asked curiously, knitting his eyebrows together and crossing his arms over his chest, “who was he?”
“His name was Iefan Jones; he worked for Torchwood.”
“Torchwood One?”
“No, sir, four,” he explained, “he disappeared a few months after my enlistment; we suspect that he fell through the rift. One day I hope to find him.”
“So Torchwood is a family business?”
“In many ways I suppose it is.”
“So what do you want?” Jack asked a little confused, “I don't know where he is.”
“I know that; this isn't about him.”
“Then what is it about, what do you want?”
“A job,” he told him, “and the chance to live my life the way that I remember it, or even to remember it at all.”
“And why should I hire you?” Jack asked, “what can you give me that I don't already have?”
“Information,” he said frankly, “I have information that you want as well as some technology that I managed to salvage from the archive. You give me a job and you get the information.”
“And if I don't?”
“Then the buck stops with me; I lose my memory and the information is lost forever, I destroy the technology that I salvaged and that will be that.”
“And what makes you so sure that I wont get the information anyway; if Torchwood one shuts down we'll get a database of their information.”
“It's not on the informations database; it comes from my own private investigations.”
“And its valuable?” Jack asked.
“Invaluable.”
“All right,” he said, “I'll play.”
Jack led Ianto down to the gun range and tossed him a pair of yellow tinted glasses and some ear protection. “Show me what you're made of then.”
“Excuse me?”
“If I'm going to even think about letting you join my team then I'm going to need to know if you can shoot. You're smart and I like that, not to mention just how good you look in a suit, but I need to know what you're made of.”
“Now?”
“Well unless you're planning another visit,” Jack chuckled, leading him over to the table full of guns of all sizes lined up and gestured to them, “take your pick.”
Ianto gazed at the array of weapons for a moment and picked them up one by one, inspecting them.
“See anything you like?”
“I see plenty of things I like, Captain,” he replied, turning to Jack and looking him up and down.
“On this occasion I meant the weapons,” Jack said, “but I'll keep that in mind for another time.”
“I have a soft spot for a Springfield XD 40 Sub-compact.” Ianto pointed to the third gun from the left.
“That's a big-ass gun,” Jack said, watching Ianto as he took off his jacket and threw it at him, who caught it, “It's been modified and has one hell of a recoil, are you sure you can handle it?”
“Hold that will you,” he said, ignoring him. He unfolded the goggles and put them on, tinting his blue eyes green, “and don't crease it.”
"Have some experience with police tactics?” he asked, looking on as Ianto picked up the gun and loaded it; it certainly looked like he knew what he was doing.
“You would be surprised, what I have experience with, Capitan,” Ianto said shooting Jack a side glance and a smile, “I have many skills that you could take advantage of.”
“I bet you do,” Jack leered moving closer to him, “and I would be more than happy to explore them.”
“Are you flirting with me, sir?” Ianto asked, “because that would be very inappropriate given the circumstances and seriousness of the matter.”
“I was under the impression that you were flirting with me, Jones. You started it.”
“Maybe you should alter your opinion of yourself, sir. Not everybody wants to get into your pants.”
“But you do,” Jack said frankly.
“That's beside the point,” Ianto smiled, inspecting the gun that he held in his hands, “now wasn't I meant to be showing you what I was made of.”
“Back to business then,” he sighed.
“That's what I came for.”
“Y'know,” Jack sighed, looking at Ianto as he prepared to put his ear protection over his head, “ I wouldn't think that Calibre would be your style."
“And how would you know my style?” he asked.
“Impeccable dress sense, cute little cheekbones; you seem a little pretty for real weapons,” Jack said, looking him up and down, “those soft hands don't say that you're the kind of man who goes for a large Calibre, at least not to me.”
“Don't let the suit fool you, appearances can be very deceiving.”
Jack looked on as Ianto placed the protection over his ears and shot a full twelve rounds into the centre of a target at the back of the gallery. He concentrated on the target infront of him, and although his frame stood tall and rigid his body wasn't tense. He was relaxed, and with every gentle squeeze of the trigger it became more apparent that he enjoyed the adrenaline that rushed through his veins. He was good, very good.
“Do you need to see any more, sir?” Ianto asked, lowering the gun and removing his large earmuffs.
Jack moved closer to Ianto and stood with his chest to his back, reaching around to take the weapon from his hands. “I find you very impressive; you're smart, you can shoot and I admire your drive. But--
“But what?” Ianto turned to look at the older man over his shoulder.
“But I can't give you a Job Ianto, I'm sorry,” Jack said, slowly moving away. “I have only one position available and you're not right for it; it's nothing more than a dogsbody.”
“I don't care.”
“I do,” Jack said, “you're overqualified.”
“No such thing.”
“When I have field agents with less experience than a dogsbody there is; it could undermine them.”
“I can be inconspicuous,” Ianto said, “nobody has to know my background.”
“I just don't think its a good idea.”
“Please,” Ianto said, taking off his goggles and looking Jack in the eyes, they were practically begging, “I would do anything.”
“Anything?” Jack asked raising an eyebrow, “that's a very dangerous thing to say.”
“Anything other than sleep with you,” he said quickly, rolling his eyes when Jack chuckled, “I've heard the rumours about you Captain.”
“What rumours are those then?”
“The rumours about you propositioning anything with a running pulse,” he said, “I must admit that I didn't think they could be true until just now.”
“How do you even know I was propositioning you?” Jack asked, “maybe you're the one coming on to me.”
“Believe me, sir, if I were coming on to you, then you would be naked by now.”
Jack paused and licked his bottom lip, moving away from him, beaten.
“You stand up to me Jones, and I admire that. I'm sick of everybody falling into my hands the first time; I like a challenge.”
“This is a challenge you will never win, sir,” Ianto assured him, “when I say business I mean business.”
Jack folded his arms across his chest and bit the corner of his lip, walking away from the younger man. “My chief recorder and archivist got into some trouble with some nasty alien acid last month, dissolved him into green goo that the pterodactyl decided was rather delicious- wasn't pretty- ever since then I've been forced to do the job myself, and I must say I'm not keen to continue.” Jack turned to look at him. “The job's yours if you want it.”
“Thank you sir,” Ianto said, “I can start on Monday.”
“Good. And come in early with that information, I would like to give it a once over before the others get here.”
“No problem.”
Ianto picked up his Jacket and put it back on, fastening the buttons and straightening it.
“One more thing,” Jack smiled, walking closer to him and running his hand across the younger man's shoulder, “do you wear a suit for work?”
“When the mood strikes, why?”
“You look good in it, very cute.”
“Tell me, sir, is this blatant sexual harassment going to continue or is it a one time deal?”
“If you wear a suit you're going to get harassed,” he said, “because I have a big thing for pretty men in cute suits.”
Ianto and Jack locked eyes for a moment, neither looking away, until Ianto finally broke it.
“Goodnight, sir.”