Partners in Every Way - Chapter Three
15 June 2008
Jack ground his teeth as he drove through the dark streets of Cardiff, his mind in the past…or the future, depending on how he wanted to look at it.
He’d never known his partner’s real name. One of the rules of the Time Agency was that no one used their real names, and what names they did choose to go by could never be used for long; the longer they did, the larger trail they would make through time, and the easier it would be for someone to track them. Of course, Jack had never told him his real name either, not even when they’d been trapped in that time loop, when it looked as if they were going to be cut off from the rest of the universe for their entire lives. It was too deeply ingrained in each and every Agent not to give too much away.
The first person to know Jack’s true name since he’d left Boeshane had been Ianto. And Jack would never regret giving it to him.
He wondered what had brought his partner there, to Cardiff, and to Jack’s chosen home century. Jack knew it wouldn’t be good; his partner had had a self-interest streak in him a mile wide, and while he’d been a good Agent he would often go off on tangents if he thought he could get away with it. Nine times out of ten he had, and Jack’s superiors would turn a blind eye as long as the mission was a success. Of course, Jack himself had been nearly as bad, and he cringed as he recalled things he’d done that he’d thought were good ideas at the time, but now, with the benefit of hindsight, were just plain wrong. He’d gone into the Time Agency in order to find Gray, and had carried that hope with him; he’d come out embittered, amoral, and missing two years of his memories.
Then he wondered if the Time Agency was after him, and had sent his former partner to bring him in. That would be just like them. He didn’t know what concerned him the most: that he’d been discovered, or that his partner was after him for some other reason. Either way, he’d deal with it accordingly.
“What can we expect?” Ianto asked, his soft voice pulling Jack from his thoughts.
Jack knew he had to get back on task. “Like I said, he’s my ex-partner from the Time Agency. He’s a compulsive liar and you cannot trust anything he says. He’s deadly and will most likely be armed to the teeth. I have no idea what he knows about this time, or about Torchwood, but you can pretty much assume he’s done his research.”
“So you don’t know if he’s here for you, or for some other purpose,” his mate said.
“No, I don’t.”
“Jesus, you know how to pick ‘em,” Owen said acerbically.
“Chances are,” Jack went on, “he’s here for some reason that will only benefit him. Once we find that out, then we can get rid of him.” At least he sincerely hoped so. The last thing he wanted was his partner to hang around and cause trouble…because he most definitely would.
“And you were partnered with him?” Gwen asked incredulously.
“Our superiors thought I was the best one to keep him under control.” That was true, in a way…but Jack always did wonder if it was because they’d wanted his partner to rub off on him, to bring Jack a bit closer to what they’d wanted him to be. Most Agents were willing to do pretty much anything to accomplish their goals, and even though Jack had most definitely been corrupted there had still been some lines he would not cross.
The coordinates he’d been sent had been for a smallish club called the Bar Reunion…Jack thought that name was very apt. They piled out of the SUV, Jack setting the deadbolt locks and turning on the alarm before gathering the others around him. “All right; here’s what we’re gonna do. I want Owen and Toshiko to go around the back. Ianto, you and Gwen at the front. I’m going in and confronting him.”
“You said he was dangerous,” Gwen argued. “You shouldn’t go in there alone.”
“That’s exactly why I should,” Jack answered. “He knows me. I don’t think he’ll do anything too bad to me, because I’m certain he wants something. He won’t pull anything until he gets what he wants.” He was confident of that; if he could say one thing about his partner, he usually made certain he got what he was after first. Afterward though was a different matter entirely… “You’re my back-up. If he thinks I’m alone, he might be more open with me about what he wants.”
He turned to Toshiko. “I also want you to do a comprehensive scan during our meeting. He’ll have weapons where you least expect it, and I would prefer him not to get the drop on any of us if I can avoid it. As I said, I’m pretty certain he won’t try anything until he gets what he wants, but let’s be careful anyway.”
“And what if he wants you?” Ianto asked solemnly.
Jack grinned. “Then he’s going to be very disappointed.” Then he sobered. “Now, I don’t want any of you to be surprised at whatever happens in there. Knowing him, he’ll either try to kiss me…or beat the crap out of me. Quite possibly both if I’m lucky.” He looked closely at Ianto. “No overprotective gestures from you, Mr. Jones.”
“You’re my mate,” Ianto growled, his eyes changing to their dragon aspect. “If he harms you, I will tear him apart.”
A warm feeling settled into Jack’s chest at Ianto’s words. He’d never had anyone who was willing to protect him like that. “Yes, you can eat him if he does. But no matter what you see in there, you are not to come thundering in. Got it?” He pitched it as an order, knowing his Second would obey.
Ianto nodded, although he didn’t look happy.
“Let’s go and get this over with,” Jack said, sending them on their way.
He went in through the front doors, past his mate and Gwen who followed him, stopping just inside the club’s inner doors, their guns out and ready. He didn’t pay them any more attention as he made his way into the deserted building; yes, he wasn’t surprised that his partner had cleared the place out for their meeting.
The man himself was standing at the bar, and the moment Jack stepped into the club, he moved away from it and into the centre of the room, his fingers smoothly unsnapping the releases on the holsters tied down to his thighs. A threatening move, but Jack knew his ex-partner wouldn’t be shooting him until he’d had his say.
It was a test. One that Jack ignored by not doing the same with his Webley.
At almost the same moment, they began striding toward each other. Jack had to admit he was enjoying the rush of adrenaline that had been building ever since he’d gotten that recording on his wrist strap, even though he knew damned well whatever his ex-partner had planned would most likely cause a great deal of mayhem.
They stopped well within each other’s personal space. Jack could smell the other man’s pheromones keenly, and knew that his old lover was aroused by the posturing. At one time Jack might have been as well, but now he was just waiting, wanting to see what was going to happen next.
What happened next was a hand snapped out, grabbing Jack by the lapel of his greatcoat. A pair of once familiar lips crashed against his own, roughly claiming Jack in a way that he’d once found a turn-on, but now he simply let his partner go to it, knowing it meant nothing to him anymore.
Hands groped him, running from his head then down his back and up again, and it did absolutely nothing for him. His partner must have realized it, because he pulled away, a shark-like grin on his face.
Jack saw the right hook coming just in time to brace for it.
Still, his head snapped back, and he tasted blood on his tongue. Smirking, Jack returned the blow, and it was no surprise that the man gave Jack a smirk of his own.
At that point the fight began in earnest.
A punch in the gut sent the air from Jack’s lungs in a whoosh. His ex pulled back, laughing, and Jack took the opening, kicking out and sending the man to his knees.
Jack grinned, he couldn’t help it. It was the very act of letting go, of being able to strike out, that was amping up his adrenaline and making him want to continue the fight. He wasn’t helpless anymore; he wasn’t at the mercy of an insane Time Lord and could defend himself against the blows he knew would be coming. He reveled in it, in the knowledge that he was able to take care of himself again.
Even as John was attacking once more, Jack knew that his rediscovered ability to take care of himself didn’t mean that he wouldn’t let his mate look after him as well, but it was amazing to know he didn’t have to rely on Ianto to do it.
Their fight pretty much destroyed the club, but Jack didn’t care. The sheer freedom of the movement of fists and feet and bodies was like a drug to him, even when his partner was the one beating the shit out of him. The slide across the bar actually made Jack laugh with joy even as broken shot glasses scratched his face and embedded themselves in the wool of his coat.
Eventually all good things must come to an end, however.
They ended up in a stalemate, each at the end of the other’s gun, grinning like loons as they faced each other down. “Are you putting on weight?” his antagonist asked breathlessly.
“Are you losing your hair?” Jack returned, sounding just as out of breath.
“What are you wearing?”
Jack could ask the same, but said instead, falling back on old Time Agent protocol of introducing himself to a fellow Agent, “Captain Jack Harkness. Note the stripes.”
“Captain John Hart,” his partner returned. “Note the sarcasm.”
Nothing had changed. Jack wasn’t sure how he felt about that, although it made anticipating his partner’s - John’s - movements a tad better. “Hey, I worked my way up through the ranks,” he couldn’t help but say, caught up in the excitement.
“And I’m sure the ranks were very grateful,” Hart answered. “I could use a drink.”
And just like that, the tension was gone. “I thought you’d never ask.” Jack didn’t much drink anymore, but he knew his ex-partner, and he doubted the man would get down to business without being well lubricated first.
Together they made their way toward the demolished bar. Hart practically slammed his gun down on it and then reached over, pulling a bottle up and handing it to Jack. Taking another one, he promptly tore the spout off with his teeth and began to chug it greedily.
Jack just stared, wondering how Hart had managed to keep his original liver…but then, maybe he hadn’t. “So,” he said rhetorically, “how was rehab?” Rehab was a bit different in the future than it was now, but it had obviously been a failure.
Hart stopped drinking, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and grinning. “Rehabs…plural.”
Jack raised an eyebrow in enquiry. “Drink…drugs…sex…”
“And murder.”
Oh shit…
“You went to murder rehab?” Jack didn’t like the sound of that, but he kept his question light, even adding in a small chuckle. He didn’t want to tip his ex off as to how much he’d actually changed.
“I know,” Hart rolled his eyes. “The odd kill…who does it hurt?”
The victims’ families, for one. But Jack didn’t say that aloud. Instead, he asked, “You clean now?” knowing the answer was a resounding no, but having to anyway.
“Kicked everything,” Hart said, proudly. “Living like a priest.”
Jack inwardly scoffed at that, but didn’t let how he was feeling show. He set his bottle down, needing to start getting some answers. “So, how’s the Time Agency?” He made is sound like an innocent question, but he had to know if he’d been found out.
Hart’s face fell. “You haven’t heard then.” At Jack’s head shake, he said, “It’s shut down.”
Jack was shocked. That was the last thing he’d been expecting. “You’re kidding.”
But he could see that his former partner wasn’t. And yet, there was something in his eyes that told Jack there was a story there, and that he wasn’t likely to be getting it. “There are only seven of us left.”
What could have happened? Jack couldn’t believe it, and yet for once he could tell the man next to him was telling the truth. The Time Agency was gone…and however it had happened, Jack thought it was for the best. In fact, he would have said “Good riddance!” if he didn’t want to risk some sort of reaction from Hart.
What passed for a tender look crossed Hart’s face. “I’ve missed you. It hadn’t been the same without you.” He leaned forward, and Jack knew exactly what he meant to do.
He pulled back. “I want you off my territory.”
Outrage replaced the soft expression. “What?”
“You heard me.” He turned away, although he wasn’t foolish enough to put his back to his rather dangerous companion.
“Time was,” Hart spat, “you couldn’t get enough of me on your ‘territory’.”
“Things change,” Jack said.
Hart’s eyes narrowed. With the speed that Jack knew he had under the somewhat lazy exterior, he grabbed his gun and fired twice, once toward the front of the club, and once toward the back. “All right!” he shouted. “Everybody out!”
Jack’s heart pounded. He didn’t breathe until his entire team showed themselves…and he could see that Hart’s bullets had missed everyone.
They came in, their guns up and ready. Jack met his mate’s eye as Ianto edged forward, his body partially in front of Gwen’s in an effort to cover her in case Hart shot again. The dragon was practically expressionless, which Jack knew from experience wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. It wasn’t good, either, but it wasn’t like he was going to go dragon and tear Hart into little pieces.
Owen was covering Toshiko as well, and they both looked cool and professional and Jack was proud of each and every one of them. They’d stayed outside until forced to come in, and they’d trusted him to handle their visitor by himself.
“Everything all right, Sir?” Ianto asked cautiously.
“Everything’s fine,” Jack answered, his smile saying he was going to get back at the dragon later for calling him ‘Sir’.
“You’ve got a team!” Hart sounded inordinately pleased by that notion. “How sweet! And how very pretty! No blonde though. You need a blonde.”
Owen rolled his eyes. “He’s worse than you, Harkness.”
“Do you have a team name?” Hart was practically bouncing. “I love team names! Go on, what is it?”
“Torchwood,” Jack answered sharply.
Hart seemed to stop in mid-bounce. An odd expression crossed his features, but was gone faster than Jack could react. “Not Excalibur? Blizzard? Bikini Cops?” He pulled a pout that made him look as if someone had just kicked his puppy. “No? Torchwood?” He sighed. “Oh dear…”
Jack just knew he was hiding something. A part of him really wanted to know what that was; but another part didn’t want to ask, because asking might risk the future. Yet another lesson the Time Agency pounded into him: do nothing to change the future. He couldn’t be certain that, whatever Hart was keeping back, would actually affect time in any way, but Jack couldn’t take the chance.
Even as much as Jack wanted to force the information out of him.
He would have to wait. And, despite what Ianto might think, he did have a lot of patience.
He just wasn’t about to trust Hart as far as he could throw him.
Chapter Four