Life's Journey - Once a Conman
Jack shifted in the chair, cracking his back. He’d gotten stiff from sitting all night by Ianto’s hospital bed. The doctor at the small, probably illegal, clinic in Buenos Ares had said the Welshman would be fine - or Jack would have decided ‘screw vanishing’ and called Martha and the right kind of Doctor. Still, he wasn’t leaving him alone. He knew Ianto hated hospitals. If he woke up alone, he would be terrified that UNIT had grabbed Jack.
The first six months after they left Cardiff had been almost magical. They’d spent time in the South Pacific, in New Zealand, and even Antarctica (though Ianto contended shagging in a heated tent to keep warm was not ‘time spent’ in any sense of the word).
They’d been so careful - even taking separate flights at times - until a message from Martha on Jack’s secure, encrypted email sent them scurrying back to Wales.
Rhiannon, Ianto’s sister, had been in an RTA and was badly injured. At Jack’s request, the young doctor had been monitoring any information on Ianto’s family, Gwen and Rhys, and Alice and Steven, so she was able to notify them quickly.
“I need to go back,” Ianto had said firmly as soon as Jack told him the news. There had been no argument or discussion. They’d simply returned to Cardiff and gone straight to the hospital.
As soon as Rhiannon was out of danger, they had administered a small dose of Retcon to Johnny - the only person other than Martha who had seen them - and vanished. This time, they had travelled overland to Dover and then by ferry to Normandy before taking a flight to Belize.
Despite their caution, their brief visit had given the bounty hunters that UNIT had hired a trail to follow. The only saving grace of their situation was that Martha had convinced the Doctor to have the official search for them called off, so UNIT had to rely on less savoury operatives.
If the six months after they left Cardiff the first time had been idyllic, the six months since had been pure hell. They never stayed anywhere for more than a few days, and they were always watching their backs.
This last time, Jack had died buying time for Ianto to get away from their shoddy room. The Welshman had come back for him, and managed to get himself shot in the process. By the time Jack had revived, their attacker was dead and Ianto was ashen from blood loss.
Jack’s skills as a conman had stood them well while they were on the run - and Ianto had proven a quick study. As Jack had held him and tried to staunch the blood flow, he had muttered, “Clinic. Two streets over. The locals say they don’t talk.”
Trying to keep his voice steady, Jack had helped his wounded lover to his feet. “Do I want to know how you know that?” he had cracked as he steered Ianto slowly and painfully down the hallway of the dingy rooming house.
“People talk for the right price,” Ianto had managed to reply between gritted teeth. “My coffee is priceless.”
Shaking his head at the memory, Jack regarded the man in the bed again. They’d been lucky this time, but he wouldn’t risk it again. Common sense told him he should leave Ianto and draw off the blood hounds, but his partner had given up everything for him. He deserved Jack’s loyalty; he already had his love. Besides, Jack was too selfish by half to lose the best thing that had ever happened to him - and he wasn’t out of tricks yet.
After carefully checking that Ianto was sleeping comfortably, he made his way out into the damp night. Concealing himself in the shadow of a nearby building, he dialled a number from memory.
“Shepherd,” a familiar, American voice answered. It sounded rough from sleep, but alert.
“I need your help,” Jack said, knowing he didn’t need to identify himself. “Usual place.” He cancelled the call without waiting for a reply.
Moving quickly, he returned to their room and gathered their scant belongings. Most of their important items - including the baby TARDIS - were secured in a locker at the airport and concealed with perception filter technology. That precaution assured they could always get out of town quickly, if need be.
Stopping at the desk to turn in their keys, Jack offered to buy the owner a drink from the little bar next door. Thirty minutes later, he left the man already half-asleep in his beer. Glancing around to make sure he wasn’t being followed, he returned to the clinic. He’d take care of the small staff - the doctor and two assistants - in the morning. They’d already gotten a sizable enough payment to stay quiet for one night.
As he entered the clinic, he tossed the disposable mobile in a medical waste bin. He reminded himself to get a few more before they left South America and headed out to San Francisco and a meeting with Colonel John Shepherd, USAF- Retired.
Returning to Ianto’s room, he sat back down and stroked his lover’s cheek. “As soon as you’re well, we’re going to see someone who can help,” he promised, keeping his voice even. “He’ll get these bastards off our tail once and for all. As far as anyone on this planet will be concerned, we won’t be anywhere they can touch us.”
He leant back and smiled a familiar, devious smile. Ianto was a master at faking video evidence, Jack was a conman, and John Shepherd, late of the Stargate Project, had the access they needed. No one but the three of them would ever need to know that it was all a ruse.
“Too bad Shepherd won’t remember,” Jack laughed gently as he made himself comfortable to wait for Ianto to wake up. “He’ll never be able to resist your coffee,” he added, reminding himself to get some of their precious store of Retcon before they met with his old friend. He’d mix up some more once they were settled. After the heat of South America, he thought the Pacific Northwest might be nice.
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