Fic: Two Truths and a Lie
Title: Two Truths and a Lie
Author Name: Anonymous
Original Prompt Number: 025
Pairing(s): Jack/Ianto
Summary: Only at Torchwood could team bonding be dangerous.
Rating: R (just for some language)
Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood or any of its respective characters. Am making no money off this whatsoever-it’s all for fun.
Warnings: Spoilers for Greeks Bearing Gifts
Word Count: 8800
Author's Notes: The prompt said that this should take place after “Greeks Bearing Gifts,” which made me think. There’s a huge change in Ianto between that and the next episode-he goes from utterly depressed to propositioning Jack. This abrupt shift has been fodder for many writers and I guess I’m no exception. I’d just like to say thanks to S for being my beta and putting up with my insanity.
Teamwork is the ability to work as a group toward a common vision, even if that vision becomes extremely blurry.
- Unknown
Jack Harkness took a deep breath, readying himself. “The first round’s on Torchwood. As is the second, third, fourth... well, you get the point.” He unleashed the full force of his grin, trying to make the others smile, too. Gwen beamed back and Tosh made a weak attempt, but Ianto continued to stare at the table. “But if your liver gives out, we won’t be paying for your medical expenses.”
Owen smirked. “Fair enough. And just to show how grateful I am, I’ll go grab the first round.”
***
Three Days Earlier
It was nights like this that reminded Jack exactly why he’d never wanted to be leader.
After Mary was disposed of and Ianto had taken down Tosh’s report (and Owen cornered Tosh, demanding to know what she had heard), Jack took her outside. She looked even smaller than usual, hunched over and avoiding his eyes.
He sat her down and tried to talk to her. Mary’s betrayal had hit her hard-maybe even harder than the alien’s death. Not to mention the faith she’d once had in humanity was gone. That Jack could understand. Some thoughts should remain private and she had learned that the hard way.
As Jack stared at Tosh, a thought struck him. He wasn’t a good leader, and the proof was right in front of him. Suzie was a corpse with a bullet in her head (because Jack hadn’t been able to see past her façade). Ianto had managed to slip past his defenses and endanger them all (because Jack had paid more attention to the way his suits fit rather than his secrets). And now Tosh could be added to the list, because she was sitting on a bench with a shattered necklace beneath her heel and a shattered heart somewhere in her chest. And it was all Jack could do to wipe away her tears, smile encouragingly (God, that took effort) and walk away before his own composure cracked.
Dammit.
Ianto was locking up the tourist office. As usual he was the last one out of the hub at night, spending a few hours after the others had gone to clean up and put everything in order. Jack had gotten used to his silent presence and hadn’t ordered him to go home the way he would’ve with any of the others. The others kept up the pretense of having a life outside Torchwood. Ianto didn’t, and pretending that all was well would have been insulting.
And it felt good, having another person around.
“Heading out?” Jack said, leaning on the desk.
Ianto didn’t say anything, but nodded.
Jack had heard everything Tosh had. On the bench outside, she’d leaned forward, arms clasped around her middle, and divulged everything. Gwen and Owen’s affair. Owen wondering what it’d be like to have sex with Tosh. Gwen not being able to have sex in front of a weevil. Ianto so depressed that he sounded almost suicidal, all the while smiling and asking Tosh if she’d like a coffee.
Jack straightened up, preparing to walk back inside the hub.
It was Ianto’s voice that stopped him. “Where’s Tosh?”
Jack glanced over at him. Ianto was staring at the opposite wall, all the while buttoning his coat.
“I think she was headed home,” Jack said. “I gave her tomorrow off.”
Ianto’s fingers went still, frozen at the collar of his coat. “And when she returns,” he said and his voice was quiet, “are we to discuss what happened here today?”
“What?”
The younger man finally looked at him then. “Are we to discuss what happened here today?” he repeated. “Or should we avoid the subject because she won’t remember?”
The words were like a punch to the gut. “I wouldn’t do that.” For a moment he wondered at Ianto’s icy inquiries, but then he remembered how the younger man had taken Tosh’s arm and led her away from the others. How he’d taken down her report without anyone else in the room, and how tender he’d looked while her eyes had brimmed over. Ianto might not defend himself, but he was fiercely protective of those he cared about.
“Of course not, sir.” And there was just the hint of disbelief in Ianto’s voice.
Jack’s mouth thinned out. “I’m not in the habit of rectonning employees, even when they compromise security.” It came out sharper than he’d intended and grimaced. This was not the way he wanted this day to end.
He forced his face into something smooth and his voice into something teasing. “Come on,” Jack said. “Don’t you trust me?”
Ianto caught Jack’s gaze and held it. Pinned it. “No.”
Ouch. The silence stretched out, uncomfortable and heavy. Jack had a thousand retorts but all of them died in his mouth. There was no room for protest.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, sir,” Ianto murmured. His method of escape was to pick up his car keys and stride out the door. Dignified, but it was escape nonetheless.
Since when did Jack’s team feel they had to escape him? He signed and trudged back into the hub. See, this was why he wasn’t a good leader. The group was splitting apart, and the proof was right in front of him.
Gwen and Owen’s affair was entangling them all in something dangerous; Gwen was spending more time at work, less at home, and when he overheard her talking to her boyfriend all she seemed to do was apologize. Tosh resented both Gwen and Owen, even if she never realized it consciously. She wanted Owen to want her. But he didn’t. Instead, he wanted Gwen, without a thought for her co-workers or her boyfriend. Tosh could barely look her in the eye these days. As for Ianto, he remained on the fringes of things. He did his work, quiet and efficient as always, but Jack saw the emotion simmering just behind his frozen eyes.
All in all, Jack uneasily watched as the situation unfolded. There was too much resentment, too many past hurts, too much mistrust. He knew what happened when troops couldn’t work together-people started dying.
He couldn’t let that happen. He had to find a way to stitch the group back together.
***
So three days later Jack rounded up his troops. He could have contacted them all at once with his Bluetooth, but that was impersonal-exactly what he was trying to get away from. Instead, he visited them one by one.
Tosh was at her station, a pen wedged between her teeth, staring at the computer console determinedly. She didn’t look shattered anymore, but there was something fragile about her. Jack inhaled deeply and reached down to pat her shoulder. It was so small-it fit easily into his hand. “Busy?” Jack asked.
She tensed under his hand. He squeezed reassuringly and she uncoiled a bit. “Not really.”
“Finish whatever you’re doing,” Jack said, “and then go up to the tourist office. Everyone’s meeting there.”
That managed to snap her out the work induced haze. She pulled the pen out of her mouth and held it between thumb and forefinger. “What’s going on?”
Jack smiled, but did not answer.
Owen was next up on the list. The doctor watered the plants in the hothouse. Jack peered through the glass walls, examining him for a moment. Owen was surprisingly careful with the plants, checking their leaves and making sure each one received enough water. “Hey. Be in the tourist office in five,” he called. Owen raised his spray bottle and nodded. Message received.
Gwen was on the phone with one of her police contacts-Andy something-asking about a few disappearances. Jack tapped her on the shoulder. “Hey,” he mouthed. She adjusted the phone so she wasn’t speaking into it.
“What?” she whispered.
“Tourist office in five.”
She nodded.
Ianto was easiest-he was already in the designated meeting place. He was quietly conversing with a young man, sketching out a route on a map. The man listened with rapt attention, only glancing up briefly when Jack came into view. “You should be able to get there pretty easily,” Ianto was saying, his pen moving quickly over the map. He folded and handed it over. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” The man gave him a quick smile and left.
Jack waited until the door clicked shut before he spoke. “You’re very good at that.”
Ianto did not turn, but instead picked up a few loose brochures and straightened them. “Someone working in a tourist office has to be good at giving directions.” His voice was neutral and distant. He could have been speaking to anyone.
Jack crossed the room until he stood at Ianto’s side, where he could not be ignored. Ianto’s eyes flicked up, met Jack’s, then looked away again. A heavy breath escaped his lips. “Is there anything you want, sir?” This time he sounded almost resigned. Tired.
Something in Jack ached at the sound of it. The feeling surprised him-this yearning mixed with regret. He’d always associated it with Gwen, when she’d seen a little too much and something in her eyes changed. Hardened. This job demanded so much-Jack demanded so much-and he could see what it was costing her. And now he saw Ianto the same way, losing himself in the whirlwind of Torchwood. For a moment all he wanted was to be the one thing they could count on-the one certainty Ianto could rely on. But that was ridiculous, of course. Because not only were there no certainties in this life, but Jack himself could vanish at any time.
Before he could say anything, maybe explain why his expression had suddenly become pained, the others joined them. Gwen and Owen were laughing at some shared joke while Tosh stood a little behind, looking lost. “What’s going on, Jack?” Gwen asked.
Jack took a deep breath. “Tonight is the first of the Torchwood Tuesdays,” he said brightly. “So let’s go.”
The others didn’t budge. “What’s a Torchwood Tuesday?” Owen raised both eyebrows at him, warily curious.
“When we all go out,” Jack answered. “Get your coats.”
***
It should have been an easy way to bond-a pub, friendly banter and good company. The beginning went well. Ianto allowed himself to be drawn out of the hub, although it took a half-pleading, half-encouraging smile from Tosh. He sat next to her, cradling a glass in his hands, fingers toying with the condensation that collected on its sides. Tosh leaned into him a little, her eyes firmly on the table. She still couldn’t look Owen in the eye. The doctor himself had offered to get the first round, but Jack somehow suspected that had more to do with the attractive bartender more than actual generosity. Gwen still watched Owen furtively, gaze darting between him and her drink. Jack thought she saw a flash of something on her face when the bartender laughed, tossing her hair and smiling at Owen. Jealousy? Relief? It could have been both or neither.
Okay, so it wasn’t exactly an ideal excursion. But they were still out together. That was progress.
Jack flashed a grin at Tosh and asked her about the new rift alert program she’d been working on. He wanted to distract her, remind her that she was valuable, and that he took notice.
It worked a little. Tentatively, she began to talk. It was two rounds in that the others had relaxed enough for Jack to really get started.
“Time to play a game,” he announced.
Owen paused in the act of reaching for his drink. “I told you before-no strip poker.”
Tosh choked on a swallow. Ianto reached over and patted her gently between her shoulder blades. “What?” she rasped.
“He wears too many layers-it puts the rest of us at a disadvantage,” Ianto explained to her. He said it gravely, but there was a hint of a smile around his mouth.
Jack didn’t even try for offended. “Sorry to dash your hopes, Owen, but that’s not what I had in mind.”
Gwen spoke up, trying to ignore the flush creeping over her neck and cheeks. “What game?”
Jack leaned forward. “Two truths and a lie. Tell us two true things about yourself and one lie. It’s our job to tell which is which.”
Gwen frowned. “Like I say, ‘I’m secretly a mass murderer,’ and you have to call me on it?”
“I was thinking for something a little less obvious, but yes, that’s the general idea.” Jack grinned. “I once slept with two people who were supposed to execute me.”
They all stared at him. “Truth,” Owen said briskly. “My turn, is it? I was a psych major before I became pre-med.”
Gwen considered. “Lie.”
“Truth,” Ianto corrected. “I’ve seen his file.”
Owen glared at him. “Isn’t that cheating?”
This time it was Tosh who spoke up. “I was arrested and spent time in prison.” Her voice was utterly devoid of emotion, like she was reading the words off a cue card.
Snorting, Owen said, “Big fat lie.”
“Sorry, love,” Gwen laughed, “but you’ll have to go for something more believable next time.”
“I guess so,” Tosh said. Her voice was utterly devoid of emotion, like she was reading the words off a cue card. Jack watched Ianto’s arm move, as if he were taking Tosh’s hand beneath the table. He saw her eyes meet Ianto’s and warm a little. He gave her the tiniest of nods.
“Caught shoplifting when I was younger,” Ianto said quickly, as if trying to draw enemy fire.
“Truth,” Jack said, flashing Owen a grin. “I’ve seen his file, too.”
All eyes turned to Gwen, who shifted uncomfortably. “Um, I hate carrots.”
“Seriously? Tosh claims jail time, Ianto admits to being a criminal,” Owen said, “and you own up to hating carrots? It’s truth, by the way. I’ve seen you pick them off your food.”
Gwen’s mouth twisted. “I need another drink before I start confessing anything juicier.”
Owen sighed dramatically and pushed himself up from the table. “That’s my cue then. Mind helping, Tea-boy?”
Ianto silently rose and followed the doctor.
Jack allowed himself to feel a bit of satisfaction-the outing was going pretty well, all things considered. There were no veiled references to girlfriends, basement-bound or alien, and Owen and Gwen were showing interest in something other than each other. This might be what they all needed: time outside of work, to relax and-
That’s when Jack heard the sound of heavy footsteps, a shout and shattering glass.
Jack was moving before he was even fully aware of it, darting out of his seat. Owen was on the floor, wiping blood away from his mouth. A huge man stood over him, fist ready to deliver another blow. Jack moved hastily, but he wouldn’t be quick enough to stop anything, even he could recognize that.
Ianto came out of nowhere. The fist that should have connected with Owen’s face was yanked away. Before anyone could react, Ianto had the man shoved up against the bar, his right arm twisted up behind his back. He was pinned and if he moved, Ianto could pull that arm up even farther and see exactly what happened to that shoulder.
“Don’t move,” Ianto said coldly.
By that time, Jack was there. He gripped Owen’s shoulder firmly, pulling him up and out of harm’s way. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“You shagged my girl,” the man said into the bar. He moved his head so that one of his eyes was visible, glaring at Owen. “I remember seeing you leave with her. It was our one year anniversary!”
All looked to the doctor. Owen glanced down at his hand, where the blood from his lip was visible. “Damn,” he muttered. When he looked back up and saw everyone staring, his eyes narrowed. “What?”
This hadn’t been the spirited denial Jack was expecting. “Did you?” he asked, his voice deliberately casual. “Sleep with her?”
Owen gave an awkward half-shrug. “Maybe. Don’t really keep track of ‘em all.” Then, feeling the disapproval of nearly everyone in earshot, he added, “What, you expect me to take notes? Keep charts?” His voice lowered so that only those very close by could hear. “When was this? Recent?”
“Few months ago,” the man snarled.
Owen winced. “Might have been…” he looked to Jack, making a gesture like he was using a spray bottle. “You know.” That alien aphrodisiac the doctor he’d used.
Jack shot Owen a disapproving scowl. “You just couldn’t resist, could you? Did you even ask to see if she was attached?”
Owen didn’t reply.
“Nice,” Ianto said derisively. He turned his attention back to the man. “Listen, I’m going to let go in a second. We can just talk about this, right?” He looked at Owen. “Right?”
Very slowly, he loosened his grip on the man’s arm.
Owen gestured at the bar, perhaps about to offer to get the man a drink. Jack shifted, moving to Owen’s shoulder. He could protect him there, if the man attacked again. But he never had the chance. With the swiftness of a cobra strike, the man swiveled and drove his left fist directly into Ianto’s jaw.
Ianto went down, and there was a resounding crack as his head clipped the side of the counter. Jack would have flinched, but he was too busy throwing himself at the man. There was a blur of fists, an angry shout, and suddenly other hands were scrabbling at them, pulling them apart and holding him back. He watched as another bartender, this one male, blond and furious, shoved the other man in the direction of the exit. “Get out,” he said, and there was venom in his voice, “or I call the police. Now.”
The attacker looked as if he would have loved to take a swing at him, but his temper was cooling and common sense was taking over. He snarled a curse, then turned on his heel and left the pub.
Owen was already at work. He knelt beside Ianto, fingers probing at the back of his head. “Hey, you still with me, Tea-Boy?”
Ianto sat up and winced away from the doctor’s touch. “’M okay,” he said. But he swallowed hard and closed his eyes for a moment.
“Nauseas?” Owen’s mouth thinned out into a grim line. “Not good. Hey, hold still. Tosh, hand me that…?” A pale Tosh crouched on Ianto’s other side. She saw what the doctor was gesturing at and quickly grabbed a napkin off the counter. Owen took it and pressed the cloth against Ianto’s head. Ianto hissed as a clean napkin made contact.
“Hey,” the female bartender said. She knelt down beside Owen, her eyes fixated on Ianto. “I just called an ambulance.”
“I’ll go outside to wait for them,” Gwen said. She was already making her way for the door, pushing through the newly formed crowd.
Owen looked up at the bartender, all business. “Mind getting me a bucket or something? Unless you don’t mind cleaning vomit off the floor….”
She blanched and sprinted away.
Ianto’s voice somehow managed to sound dignified, even through gritted teeth. “I’m fine. I don’t feel sick.”
“Yeah, sure,” Owen agreed. “But she was going to hover and I can’t stand that.” He must have applied more pressure, because Ianto made a quiet, pained noise. Owen spoke quickly, as if to distract him. “She fancies you, you know.”
“Really?” This time it was Tosh who spoke up. She reached down and took one of Ianto’s hands, prying apart the fingers long enough to slip her own hand in his. Ianto glanced over at her and Jack watched as he squeezed her hand gratefully. The three of them formed their own little world, Jack thought, protectively huddled together. Jack stood on the fringes of things, struck by how unneeded his presence was.
“She couldn’t stop asking who the pretty bloke in the suit was.” Owen pulled his hand away from Ianto’s head, peering at the makeshift bandage he’d made. The formerly white napkin was sticky and red. Owen sighed and turned his attention to Jack. “He’s going to need stitches. Looks like the first Torchwood Tuesday is breaking up early.”
***
The night started out with Jack rounding them up for drinks. It ended with him sitting beside a hospital bed, sipping horrible coffee, and watching the gentle rise and fall of Ianto’s chest. “He’ll be fine,” Owen had said. “Just a concussion, but they want to keep him overnight just to be sure.”
Jack stayed while the others left for home. He kept replaying the evening’s events in his mind, trying to figure out exactly what he could have done to prevent this. Moved more quickly, maybe. Or gotten in between Ianto and Owen’s attacker. He caught the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, pressing hard. He had to keep thinking, because every time his mind quieted, he could hear the sickening thud of Ianto hitting the counter’s edge.
There was one silver lining to be found, though. During the encounter, the team had acted… well, like a team. Ianto had watched Owen’s back and Owen returned the favor. Tosh hadn’t left Ianto’s side-she’d helped Owen and made soothing noises whenever Ianto grimaced. Gwen had met with the police, giving them a report and description of the attacker. And Jack had stood by and watched, surprised by the efficiency of his team. He knew they were good-after all, he wouldn’t have hired them if they weren’t-but the way they had managed to come together despite the circumstances… it warmed him. When faced with an outside enemy, they had put aside their differences and banded together. Adversity brought them together.
And as he sat there, replaying the evening’s events in his mind, a thought occurred to him.
***
Games.
Jack Harkness liked games. He’d always been good at them-good at reading the other players, good at playing the odds, good at bailing himself out. Add in a dash of dumb luck and it was the combination that had managed to keep him alive this long.
But this was going to be strictly business. He’d play this game for as long as needed, for as long as it took to bring the team together. It wasn’t going to fun or anything.
Okay, maybe a little fun.
It was nearing seven at night, when the others would be leaving for home-or wherever they went when they weren’t here. Too bad they wouldn’t be going there tonight. Jack tapped his Bluetooth and smiled. “Hey guys. Sorry to say this, but we’re going to be working late tonight. If you’ve got plans, I suggest you cancel them.”
There was a double groan-Gwen and Owen’s disappointment mingled in his ear. Ianto remained silent. It was Tosh who spoke up. “What have you got for us, Jack?”
“Paperwork-specifically, expenses,” he said. “They’ve been piling up for weeks now I think it’s a good time to get those in order.”
Gwen sounded confused. “But I’ve already turned mine in.”
This time he had to work hard to keep the smile out of his voice. “But Owen hasn’t. And I’m sorry to say Tosh… you’ve got a few, as well. And Ianto, could you bring up that news release I asked you about? I want to talk to you about that.”
“And me?” Gwen asked.
“You get to help everyone else.”
It only took a few minutes for the conference room to fill up. Owen came in, staggering under the weight of a stack of papers, followed closely by Gwen. “When was the last time you did this?”
Owen heaved the stack onto the table and collapsed into a chair. “Dunno. When were you hired again?” He glowered at the pile. “Since when is paperwork my responsibility?”
“Because I said so,” Jack said. His voice was light, but left no room for argument.
It was around three in the morning when he let them stagger home.
And two hours later, he sent out a text to summon them back.
***
Day two.
“Rhys woke up when I left,” Gwen was muttering, “and he’s not happy.”
Jack head Owen “hmm-ing,” but that was all the doctor said. The team looked groggy but interested as they approached the deserted club. The rain was drifting down in lazy sheets, soaking through outer layers and making those without jackets shiver.
“Strange noises,” Jack said, answering the unsaid question. “Someone phoned in a emergency call-said they saw something huge and slimy.”
“Just the way I like to start my mornings.” Owen was less than pleased. The others remained quiet.
***
Day three.
Ianto was delivering the second round of caffeine when Jack asked Tosh about water-proofing the cells. “That thing looked like something out of an old horror movie, and I don’t like the idea of cleaning slime out of every nook and cranny in those cells,” he said. “Gwen, have you called the police? We need to know if they’ve seen anything.”
“But I thought you said the slime thing was harmless.” Gwen sipped at her coffee. “Thanks, Ianto.”
Jack took his own cup and nodded thanks. “Yes, but I want to know how it got here. The system its species is from doesn’t have the technology to reach other planets yet. I want to know if Mr. Slime is a hitchhiker, or if the rift is responsible.”
Tosh looked up from her computer. “Um, Jack? How late do you think we’re going to be working? Another all-nighter?”
Jack smiled and did not reply.
“Mind getting us another round?” Owen muttered to Ianto. “I think we’re gonna need it.”
***
Day four.
“I need this filed,” Jack barked at Ianto. “Tosh, could you hack into UNIT again? I just got off the phone with them and they swear they know nothing about the disappearing slime monster. Gwen, I need you to interview a few of the witnesses and deem whether or not retcon is required. Owen, go with her.”
***
“What do you need now?” Tosh looked at him, pleading.
“Clean out the cells,” Jack said. “Haven’t done that in a while.”
Gwen looked-no, actually glared-at him. This was the fifth day of what Jack had mentally deemed “Game Time,” and Owen was now referring to as “fucking insanity.” They were at the hub constantly, Jack working them harder than he ever had. He cheerfully informed them that the rift was being exceptionally busy lately and they needed to be there. And while there were grumbles, no one had bailed yet.
Jack waited, patient. He had a feeling he knew who would be first.
***
It was on the sixth day of this insanity that Owen finally began to suspect something.
Jack worked them harder than was decent (or probably legal), Owen thought. There was always something to do, something to catch, something to research, something to look into… and if they seemed in danger of actually getting it all done, something would go wrong. Owen was pretty damn sure he’d seen Jack flit away from Owen’s computer station just before the fucking computer crashed, losing three hours of work. Then the computer wouldn’t boot back up and Tosh spent a solid day trying to fix everything. Then there was a weevil sighting, which sent all of them scrambling, but once they arrived on the scene… no weevil. Jack claimed it must have gone back into the sewers or something.
By the time Owen had stumbled home and collapsed into bed-it was soft and cold and felt so incredibly good-he was ready to sleep for days. And then Jack called him. Again. Bloody weevil sighting. Again.
Once he got there… no weevil. Again.
“Might as well come back to the hub,” Jack said in his ear, all too cheerfully.
Owen spent the next few hours amusing himself with what Jack would look like if locked in with Janet.
The team looked as ragged as he felt. They were surviving on a combination of determination and caffeine, but Owen was pretty sure that wouldn’t hold out much longer. Certainly not as long as Jack’s mania.
When Gwen strode by him, files in hand, he caught her by the arm. He leaned in close-close enough to smell that cherry scented shampoo she used-and hissed into her ear. “This is the fucking Iranian Embassy and its 1980.”
“What?”
He looked at her scathingly. “Didn’t you ever pay attention to history?”
It took her a few seconds to catch on. “Oh. The hostage situation.” Her eyes went wide. “Oh.”
“He’s never going to let us leave,” Owen whispered. “Something’s up with him and we’re never going to get out of here.”
She was wary. “What do you want to do about it?”
“War council. Tell the others to meet by the coffee maker in ten. If You-Know-Who asks, just say we’re pestering Ianto about the bloody coffee.”
***
“What is going on?” Gwen asked, peering around Ianto to make sure Jack was out of sight. “And why are we whispering?”
“Because we don’t want him to hear.” Owen gave her a “you-should-know-that” look.
“But he can-”
“CCTV is temporarily having problems,” Tosh said archly. “So, what exactly do we think is going on here?”
Owen snorted. “Jack’s become a nutter. I swear he’s been sabotaging us-did you see him mess with my computer?!-so we can’t go home.”
There was a long silence while the others thought about it. There was no denying Jack’s strange behavior, his relentless good cheer amidst the practically illegal work ethic. He’d never been so… insistant about his power to keep them at work. “I think we’re being paranoid,” Gwen said quietly. “He’s just getting us to do our job.”
“When did you last see Rhys?” Owen made the question into an accusation.
Wrong thing to say. Gwen flared up at once, eyes blazing. “You don’t have the right to say a word about my relationship with Rhys,” she said.
“What relationship?” Owen shot back.
Ianto and Tosh pretended not to hear. “What do you think?” she asked him. He shrugged.
“It’s Jack,” was all Ianto said.
The quiet stretched out, heavy with tension, until Jack’s voice shattered it. “Hey, need you guys up here!”
All of them jumped. “What now?” Tosh said wearily.
***
“We’re going to rehabilitate weevils?”
Jack nodded earnestly.
***
The second war council took place in the hothouse.
“This has got to stop,” Owen said, keeping his voice to a whisper. “I was all right when he was just trying to get us to spend extra time training and stuff-but this-this is-”
“Dangerous?” Tosh suggested.
“I was going to say ‘fucking ridiculous,’ but that works too,” Owen replied.
Gwen peeked over her shoulder in the direction of Jack’s office. “Maybe he really has been replaced. But buy what?”
“Shape shifter?” Tosh said. “Some kind of remote mind control?”
Ianto held up both hands, palms out, as if trying to stop traffic. Everyone looked at him. “Maybe he’s serious,” he said. “Maybe we should try to do this. Try to rehabilitate them. If we could find out what makes the weevils go rogue and fix that…” His voice trailed off, as if imagining the possibilities.
Owen looked at Gwen. “I just got a mental image of a weevil trying to eat with a knife and fork.”
She tried to stifle her laugh, so it came out more as a snort. This made even Ianto smile.
“Mind control,” she decided.
Owen shook his head. “Ten quid says shape shifter. Jack’s proven pretty resistant to mind stuff-” (three pairs of eyes all flicked to Tosh and away again) “-so they’d have to kidnap and replace him completely.”
“They?” Gwen bit down on her lower lip, worried. “Are we serious? Who would want to infiltrate us?”
There was a beat of silence, and then Tosh said what they were all thinking. “Who wouldn’t?”
“This could be a test,” Gwen said. “Some kind of Torchwood procedure, to see what we would do in the event that one of us was acting strangely.” She considered.
“We could sedate him,” Owen muttered. “Tie him down and scan him for every possibility. Most shape shifters can’t duplicate DNA… and if someone’s controlling him, wouldn’t there be some kind of signal…?” He looked to Tosh. It took her a second to understand that he expected a response, then she nodded quickly.
“I’ll do some research,” she said. “What are we going to do in the mean time?”
This got a smirk out of Owen. “We get him into that little cubby thing of his, then shove his desk over the entrance.”
“That’s really unprofessional,” Tosh said. “We’re doing a job.”
“Yeah, very unprofessional.” Gwen nodded eagerly. “Besides, it’d easier to pop some sleeping pills in his coffee.” Three pairs of eyes turned to Ianto, who had yet to say anything. He raised both hands, palms out, in a defensive gesture.
“I’ve got to get up the tourist office,” he said. “Text me if you decide on a time for the coup d'état.”
***
Owen would have liked to take credit for their first attempt. It all stemmed from his fantasy of locking Jack in with Janet. Instead, they (Tosh) simply tripped the lock system so that Jack was accidentally trapped in an empty cell. Their plan was to keep him stuck inside the unbreakable walls with only a mop and bucket for company, Tosh and Owen tried to think of a way they could keep him down there while furtively scanning him.
All four of them watched the CCTV, not breathing, waiting to see if the door actually clicked shut behind Jack.
It did. And they watched as Jack began prodding at the lock, a confused look on his face.
“Victory.” Owen was smug. After all, this had been his idea.
Gwen pumped a fist into the air and grinned.
Silently, Ianto lifted a finger and pointed back at the tv screen. They all glanced back. Jack was pressing something on his wristband, concentrating, and then the cell door swung open.
Three jaws dropped.
***
The second attempt was a little more convoluted.
“Listen,” Gwen said into the phone, “I’ve explained this to you three times. It’s not that difficult. Just walk into the tourist office like you normally would, but say that you saw something. Act really scared.”
The girl sounded confused. “Saw what?”
Okay, she’d definitely explained this before. But she ground back his retort and forced himself to remain calm. Collected. Not about to rip someone’s head off. “I want you to say you saw something like a monster. Something with big, shark-like teeth. Wearing a jumpsuit. And you’ve got to arrive at noon. Exactly.” The delivery girl snapped her gum again-Christ, that noise was disgusting over the phone. Gwen winced. “You can do that right?”
“I’m not sure….”
“Let’s phrase this a new way,” Gwen said, “there will be a huge tip for you if you do it.”
“Is this some kind of prank?”
“Um, yeah.” It was the only explanation that didn’t make her sound insane. “A prank. So, will you do it?”
There was a pause while she considered. “Do you still want a pizza?”
“Meat feast, please.” Gwen hung up the phone and let out a groan. Plan B was on.
Ianto, who had been texted the time of the coup d'état, was better at sabotage than the pizza girl. Right on time, he called Jack about looking over a few reports. As the captain passed by, on his way to the office, Owen held his breath. As soon as the circular door clicked shut, Owen dashed to Tosh’s station.
“Bring up the office,” he said. “I want to see when he leaves.”
Gwen leaned over Tosh, eagerly watching. They observed as the wall slid open and Jack joined Ianto in the tourist office. Sound was turned off, so they couldn’t hear what was said, but it didn’t matter. Ianto slipped a file from a drawer and began gesturing at it. Jack listened intently.
Owen lifted his arm and glanced at his watch. “ETA is two minutes, right?”
Gwen nodded. Once Jack and Ianto were out to search for the non-existent weevil, the others would search Jack’s office and try to find something-anything-that would explain his strange behavior.
“One minute,” Owen muttered. Tosh chewed on her thumbnail, gazing at the screen. The seconds ticked by and noon came. Owen leaned forward. “Come on, come on… where is she?”
They waited. 12:00. 12:05. 12:10.
“Ianto’s starting to sweat,” Gwen said. “He can only drag a file out for so long.”
“Where is she?” Tosh worried.
Ianto was still talking by 12:20, but he was obviously losing Jack. The captain was nodding in a bored way, his eyes beginning to glaze over. He finally lost all interested a few minutes later, taking the file and escaping Ianto’s monologue. How he’d managed to draw it out for so long, Gwen would never know.
Jack trotted back inside the hub, file under his arm. “Gwen, you talked to UNIT again yet?” he asked. She wilted and picked up the phone.
Fifteen minutes later, Ianto came down. He carried several boxes. “Anybody want pizza?” he asked.
Owen began to hit his forehead against the wall. Repeatedly.
***
The third war council took place next in the archives. Tucked between ‘f’ and ‘g,’ they tried to figure out a new strategy.
“This isn’t working,” Tosh said, her brow wrinkling. “Maybe if we try a new tactic….”
Owen’s smile was more a grimace. “We need something more drastic. You think holding him at gunpoint is too much?”
Gwen and Tosh just stared at him. “Just kidding,” he sighed. “Sort of, anyway.”
As the debate became more heated, Ianto slipped away. It was easy to do so-his presence barely registered with them.
***
Jack was on the roof when Ianto found him. Ianto moved silently to the captain’s side and stared out at the horizon. The clouds were heavy and mist drifted downward. Ianto had worn a heavy wool coat, Jack noticed. He was also carrying a steaming cup. Jack took it without hesitation.
Ianto didn’t look at him when he spoke. “You’ve acting strange lately, sir. I thought it fair to warn you that Owen is considering sedating you for a thorough examination.”
Jack coughed on a swallow and looked down at his coffee.
Ianto laughed. Actually laughed. “Don’t worry-I didn’t let Owen near this batch.”
“Good.” Jack couldn’t help but chuckle. “Has he got a pool going?”
Though he still looked into the distance, rather than meeting Jack’s eyes, the corner of Ianto’s mouth twitched upward. “Mind control device currently has the best odds, but Owen’s got his money on shape shifter.”
Again, Jack laughed. He could just imagine Owen, Tosh and Gwen, heads together, furtively betting and discussing what was wrong with their boss. “Why?”
Ianto spoke quickly. “Group pub visit. Then you trapped us here, making us work constantly. Sabotaging us when we get too much done.” And oddly enough, he hesitated before listing off the last one. “Two truths and a lie. You have to admit, you’ve been a little… more hands on than you used to.”
“And yet you came out to warn me,” Jack said lightly. “You obviously think I haven’t been replaced.”
The smile on Ianto’s face faded and become something more pensive. He didn’t answer aloud, but nodded once.
“The last time I played that game, it was during my orientation at Torchwood One. They hired in groups, and would spend at least a week easing us into the system. Group exercises-they were a big part of it. We learned to trust one another, like one another, and work together as a team.” He laughed, but it was a bitter sound. “It didn’t save us in the end, though.”
It would be so easy to touch Ianto, but that would bridge invisible barriers-and Jack knew he’d lost the right. It was only when Ianto shivered, pulling his coat closer, that Jack found himself putting his hand on Ianto’s back. The younger man’s head jerked up and he looked quickly, and then wrenched his gaze forward again.
Jack wasn’t sure if he’d done the right thing or not. When he pulled away, his fingers slid over Ianto’s shoulder. The wool of his coat was rough and damp, but Jack knew how warm Ianto would be inside of it. For one wild moment, he wanted to slip his hands inside the garment, feel that warmth without the barrier between them.
The younger man turned to face Jack directly, and the invisible walls came back up. Ianto gave him a measured look. “You’ve been conning us. You wanted us to believe that something was wrong with you.”
Jack shook his head, laughing. He should have known Ianto would be the one to figure it out. “You would have made a great partner… back in the day.”
“Back in what day?”
“Back when I did this kind of thing for a living.”
Ianto was looking at him in that measured way of his. “Truth or lie?”
“Truth.” Jack’s smile splintered and broke. “All too true.”
Ianto allowed Jack a moment before asking the most important question. Then he met Jack’s eyes and said, “Why?”
Jack tilted his head and smiled. “Why do you think?” He had to admit he was interested in Ianto’s conclusions, whatever they were. He’d managed to figure out this much.
Ianto’s expression did not change from that careful neutrality, but his mouth thinned out the tiniest bit. His hand came up and he rubbed his chin. “You’ve been creating chaos,” he said slowly, as if thinking out each word. “And after both mine and Tosh’s betrayals, the others are understandably suspicious of any change in behavior. If you’re aim was to create an even more mistrustful work environment, you’ve succeeded.”
Jack could not help his wide grin. “I don’t think so. You all ganged up on me pretty well. Worked together to overcome a common goal. Depended on each other’s talents in order to take down a threat.” He shrugged. “Looked a lot like team bonding to me.”
Ianto took some time to process this. “You’ve kept us at work for days, made us think you were a shape shifter or worse, all for the sake of making us trust you?”
Jack started to say something, maybe to explain, but Ianto cut him off.
You don’t have to play games with us,” he said. “To make us trust you, I mean.”
Jack smiled ruefully. “Games work. And I wasn’t trying to make you trust me-just each other.”
“Did you pay that guy to attack Owen?”
Jack kept his face impassive and didn’t respond. Again, he was interested in Ianto’s conclusions.
Ianto hesitated, eyes flickering up to meet Jack’s, and then back down again. “Did you pay that guy to attack me?”
For a moment, Jack couldn’t move. He felt heat, like someone was burning him, but the tips of his fingers were completely numb. His mouth opened to protest, to say that he would never do something like that, and was surprised to find that nothing came out.
“It’s not like you to be speechless, sir,” Ianto said quietly.
“Ianto,” Jack said, and it came out like a plea. Ianto met his gaze then, cool and unassuming as usual. But there was something behind it-a calculation that Jack had rarely seen there before.
“Do you really think I would do that to you?” The question came out sounding angry, even though Jack tried to stay calm.
“I’m sorry, sir, but you’ve never given us any clue as to where your limits are,” Ianto said. And the sheer truthfulness of that statement cut Jack deeper than any slight could have.
Jack grabbed Ianto’s arm, twisting him so that they were face-to-face and closer than they had been in days. “You’re right. I have very few limits.” Ianto tried to take a step back, but Jack didn’t let go. Rather, his fingers dug tighter into Ianto’s sleeve, tight enough to bruise. “When it comes to protecting those I care about, I will do just about anything.”
Ianto had gone completely still, but Jack felt him shudder involuntarily. Jack didn’t give him time to respond. “I can’t watch Torchwood fall. I know we’re all going through a rough patch right now, but I won’t let you fall apart. I know you don’t trust me-but I need you guys to be able to trust one another. I need you guys to be able to function when I’m not around.”
Ianto appeared to be processing his words. He took a few steps back and looked away. Agitatedly, he pulled at the collar of his coat, tugging it down a bit as if it irritated him. Jack found himself staring at Ianto’s neck-that pale curve of throat descending into shoulder. The rush of emotion Jack felt surprised him. He wanted to touch that neck, maybe trace the contours of it with his lips, bury his face in that safe place beneath Ianto’s chin and breathe him in.
God, it was times like this that made him so grateful that Tosh hadn’t been able to read his mind.
When Ianto spoke, it was so quietly that Jack almost didn’t catch the words. “I’m sorry.” He hesitated, then appeared to make some decision. “When I-” He stumbled over the words, then shook himself, as if coming awake from a dream.
Jack was at a loss. He felt that ache again, when he looked at Ianto and felt hollow. This man should have been somewhere else, rising through the ranks of some corporate business or opening his own coffee shop. Not in Torchwood, losing himself. “What?” he said, keeping his voice calm.
Ianto shifted away, skittish. Jack reached out, meaning to put grasp Ianto’s shoulder. Somehow his palm ended up on Ianto’s chest, fingers curling around his lapel. It wasn’t a tight grip, the younger man could have broken away, but it made Jack feel connected to him. “Ianto,” he said, and it wasn’t a question or rebuke. Just a name-a name that slipped from his mouth with an ease that surprised him.
Ianto inhaled sharply. He wouldn’t meet Jack’s eyes when he finally spoke. “When I said I didn’t trust you… that was my lie,” Ianto said quietly. “It’s me I don’t trust, not you.”
The words took a moment to sink in, then Jack’s other hand came up. He stroked the line of Ianto’s throat. It was a place Ianto usually hid from the world, tucked away behind collars and ties and other thick layers of clothing. Jack touched the curve of his chin, and his thumb found the swell of Ianto’s lower lip. He had no idea what he was doing-if he was seducing, exploring or something else. He waited for Ianto to move, to strike out and push him away. But Ianto wasn’t moving. He shivered and sucked in sharp breath, but he didn’t move away. Jack leaned in close, close enough to count each of Ianto’s eyelashes, and said words he hadn’t even known were true until that moment.
“I trust you,” Jack said.
Ianto’s eyes widened. His lips parted to inhale, to gasp. That snapped the last threads of Jack’s self control. He leaned in, covering Ianto’s mouth with his own. Soft. Warm. Still. The younger man had frozen over, his fingers splayed on Jack’s chest. He could have paused in the act of either pushing Jack away or pulling him closer. The kiss was careful.
And then Ianto surprised him. His fingers dug into Jack’s shirt, became fists, and he dragged Jack closer. He kissed hungrily, desperately, holding on like Jack was the only thing keeping him grounded. Jack held himself back, surprised by Ianto’s fervor, but couldn’t remain that way when his mouth was coaxed open. He felt the scratchy wool of Ianto’s coat, then slipped his hand inside and downward. His hand dipped into small of his back and pulled Ianto even closer, so he could feel the sharpness of his hip bone, the rise and fall of his chest.
Ianto pulled away, breathing heavily. Jack followed his lead and drew away. Ianto was flushed and his lips looked swollen. The sight made Jack want to pin him to the ground, to tease and take until Ianto begged for more. It was lust mixed with something else-something like tenderness.
Ianto was staring at him like he’d never really seen the captain before. He steadied himself, hands unconsciously coming up to smooth his collar back into place. “I should get back down there,” he said, and his voice was hoarse.
Jack didn’t answer right away-he had to bite down on his disappointment. He felt weak and a little dizzy, which confused him. “If that’s what you want.”
Ianto looked torn. His eyes flitted back to the door, but his shoulders were angled toward Jack. “I-not now,” he said. “Just… not now.”
Jack nodded. “Okay, but can I ask why?”
Ianto looked upward, probably just to avoid looking at Jack. The corner of his mouth twitched. “Because… you’re probably going to pass out in a minute or two.”
It took Jack longer than it should have to figure it out what Ianto meant. “You said Owen never went anywhere near this batch.”
Ianto looked perfectly innocent. “He didn’t. I did.”
Shaking his head, Jack took a step toward Ianto. His feet suddenly seemed harder to control, and his legs trembled a bit. “Fool me once,” he muttered, “shame on you. Fool me twice… well, that’s never happened before.” The vertigo increased and Jack found himself trying to focus on Ianto, rather than the blackness edging his sight. He waved a hand where he thought Ianto was. “So was all this… part of the plan?”
He tried to take another step, but the ground moved and abruptly tilted. He expected to hit the ground hard, but he found himself breathing in wet wool. It took some concentration to figure out what had happened. Ianto’s voice sounded close to Jack’s ear.
“There was never a plan. I just thought I’d humor Owen,” Ianto said. “And I meant what I said.”
Jack’s head sunk onto Ianto’s shoulder. His lips quirked into a smile. He might not have another chance at this and he could later blame this on whatever Ianto had dosed him with. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to Ianto’s throat. He felt the younger man tense, then relax.
“I just have one question, while you’re still conscious,” Ianto said, and he sounded tense.
Answering was difficult, Jack’s lips felt numb. “W-what’s that?”
Ianto let out a sigh and Jack felt his chest fall. “Will you forgive her?”
“What?” This wasn’t what Jack was expecting.
Ianto shifted underneath Jack. “Tosh. She’s the one that set this whole trust issue off, right? Will you forgive her for betraying your trust?”
Jack snorted. He thought he understood now. “You remember the moment that she realized Mary was dead?”
He waited for an answer. Ianto didn’t say anything but Jack felt him nod. Ianto must have seen it, too-the flash of realization on Tosh’s face, then the way she’d seemed to crumple. She wrapped her arms around her stomach, and just tried to breathe evenly.
“I forgave her then,” Jack mumbled.
Lips ghosted over the corner of Jack’s mouth. Ianto might have said something else, but the sound blurred in Jack’s ears.
***
Sometime later, Jack awoke to find himself strapped to a metal table with Owen leaning over him, brandishing a scalpel.
Okay. So you win some, you lose some.
Author Name: Anonymous
Original Prompt Number: 025
Pairing(s): Jack/Ianto
Summary: Only at Torchwood could team bonding be dangerous.
Rating: R (just for some language)
Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood or any of its respective characters. Am making no money off this whatsoever-it’s all for fun.
Warnings: Spoilers for Greeks Bearing Gifts
Word Count: 8800
Author's Notes: The prompt said that this should take place after “Greeks Bearing Gifts,” which made me think. There’s a huge change in Ianto between that and the next episode-he goes from utterly depressed to propositioning Jack. This abrupt shift has been fodder for many writers and I guess I’m no exception. I’d just like to say thanks to S for being my beta and putting up with my insanity.
Teamwork is the ability to work as a group toward a common vision, even if that vision becomes extremely blurry.
- Unknown
Jack Harkness took a deep breath, readying himself. “The first round’s on Torchwood. As is the second, third, fourth... well, you get the point.” He unleashed the full force of his grin, trying to make the others smile, too. Gwen beamed back and Tosh made a weak attempt, but Ianto continued to stare at the table. “But if your liver gives out, we won’t be paying for your medical expenses.”
Owen smirked. “Fair enough. And just to show how grateful I am, I’ll go grab the first round.”
***
Three Days Earlier
It was nights like this that reminded Jack exactly why he’d never wanted to be leader.
After Mary was disposed of and Ianto had taken down Tosh’s report (and Owen cornered Tosh, demanding to know what she had heard), Jack took her outside. She looked even smaller than usual, hunched over and avoiding his eyes.
He sat her down and tried to talk to her. Mary’s betrayal had hit her hard-maybe even harder than the alien’s death. Not to mention the faith she’d once had in humanity was gone. That Jack could understand. Some thoughts should remain private and she had learned that the hard way.
As Jack stared at Tosh, a thought struck him. He wasn’t a good leader, and the proof was right in front of him. Suzie was a corpse with a bullet in her head (because Jack hadn’t been able to see past her façade). Ianto had managed to slip past his defenses and endanger them all (because Jack had paid more attention to the way his suits fit rather than his secrets). And now Tosh could be added to the list, because she was sitting on a bench with a shattered necklace beneath her heel and a shattered heart somewhere in her chest. And it was all Jack could do to wipe away her tears, smile encouragingly (God, that took effort) and walk away before his own composure cracked.
Dammit.
Ianto was locking up the tourist office. As usual he was the last one out of the hub at night, spending a few hours after the others had gone to clean up and put everything in order. Jack had gotten used to his silent presence and hadn’t ordered him to go home the way he would’ve with any of the others. The others kept up the pretense of having a life outside Torchwood. Ianto didn’t, and pretending that all was well would have been insulting.
And it felt good, having another person around.
“Heading out?” Jack said, leaning on the desk.
Ianto didn’t say anything, but nodded.
Jack had heard everything Tosh had. On the bench outside, she’d leaned forward, arms clasped around her middle, and divulged everything. Gwen and Owen’s affair. Owen wondering what it’d be like to have sex with Tosh. Gwen not being able to have sex in front of a weevil. Ianto so depressed that he sounded almost suicidal, all the while smiling and asking Tosh if she’d like a coffee.
Jack straightened up, preparing to walk back inside the hub.
It was Ianto’s voice that stopped him. “Where’s Tosh?”
Jack glanced over at him. Ianto was staring at the opposite wall, all the while buttoning his coat.
“I think she was headed home,” Jack said. “I gave her tomorrow off.”
Ianto’s fingers went still, frozen at the collar of his coat. “And when she returns,” he said and his voice was quiet, “are we to discuss what happened here today?”
“What?”
The younger man finally looked at him then. “Are we to discuss what happened here today?” he repeated. “Or should we avoid the subject because she won’t remember?”
The words were like a punch to the gut. “I wouldn’t do that.” For a moment he wondered at Ianto’s icy inquiries, but then he remembered how the younger man had taken Tosh’s arm and led her away from the others. How he’d taken down her report without anyone else in the room, and how tender he’d looked while her eyes had brimmed over. Ianto might not defend himself, but he was fiercely protective of those he cared about.
“Of course not, sir.” And there was just the hint of disbelief in Ianto’s voice.
Jack’s mouth thinned out. “I’m not in the habit of rectonning employees, even when they compromise security.” It came out sharper than he’d intended and grimaced. This was not the way he wanted this day to end.
He forced his face into something smooth and his voice into something teasing. “Come on,” Jack said. “Don’t you trust me?”
Ianto caught Jack’s gaze and held it. Pinned it. “No.”
Ouch. The silence stretched out, uncomfortable and heavy. Jack had a thousand retorts but all of them died in his mouth. There was no room for protest.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, sir,” Ianto murmured. His method of escape was to pick up his car keys and stride out the door. Dignified, but it was escape nonetheless.
Since when did Jack’s team feel they had to escape him? He signed and trudged back into the hub. See, this was why he wasn’t a good leader. The group was splitting apart, and the proof was right in front of him.
Gwen and Owen’s affair was entangling them all in something dangerous; Gwen was spending more time at work, less at home, and when he overheard her talking to her boyfriend all she seemed to do was apologize. Tosh resented both Gwen and Owen, even if she never realized it consciously. She wanted Owen to want her. But he didn’t. Instead, he wanted Gwen, without a thought for her co-workers or her boyfriend. Tosh could barely look her in the eye these days. As for Ianto, he remained on the fringes of things. He did his work, quiet and efficient as always, but Jack saw the emotion simmering just behind his frozen eyes.
All in all, Jack uneasily watched as the situation unfolded. There was too much resentment, too many past hurts, too much mistrust. He knew what happened when troops couldn’t work together-people started dying.
He couldn’t let that happen. He had to find a way to stitch the group back together.
***
So three days later Jack rounded up his troops. He could have contacted them all at once with his Bluetooth, but that was impersonal-exactly what he was trying to get away from. Instead, he visited them one by one.
Tosh was at her station, a pen wedged between her teeth, staring at the computer console determinedly. She didn’t look shattered anymore, but there was something fragile about her. Jack inhaled deeply and reached down to pat her shoulder. It was so small-it fit easily into his hand. “Busy?” Jack asked.
She tensed under his hand. He squeezed reassuringly and she uncoiled a bit. “Not really.”
“Finish whatever you’re doing,” Jack said, “and then go up to the tourist office. Everyone’s meeting there.”
That managed to snap her out the work induced haze. She pulled the pen out of her mouth and held it between thumb and forefinger. “What’s going on?”
Jack smiled, but did not answer.
Owen was next up on the list. The doctor watered the plants in the hothouse. Jack peered through the glass walls, examining him for a moment. Owen was surprisingly careful with the plants, checking their leaves and making sure each one received enough water. “Hey. Be in the tourist office in five,” he called. Owen raised his spray bottle and nodded. Message received.
Gwen was on the phone with one of her police contacts-Andy something-asking about a few disappearances. Jack tapped her on the shoulder. “Hey,” he mouthed. She adjusted the phone so she wasn’t speaking into it.
“What?” she whispered.
“Tourist office in five.”
She nodded.
Ianto was easiest-he was already in the designated meeting place. He was quietly conversing with a young man, sketching out a route on a map. The man listened with rapt attention, only glancing up briefly when Jack came into view. “You should be able to get there pretty easily,” Ianto was saying, his pen moving quickly over the map. He folded and handed it over. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” The man gave him a quick smile and left.
Jack waited until the door clicked shut before he spoke. “You’re very good at that.”
Ianto did not turn, but instead picked up a few loose brochures and straightened them. “Someone working in a tourist office has to be good at giving directions.” His voice was neutral and distant. He could have been speaking to anyone.
Jack crossed the room until he stood at Ianto’s side, where he could not be ignored. Ianto’s eyes flicked up, met Jack’s, then looked away again. A heavy breath escaped his lips. “Is there anything you want, sir?” This time he sounded almost resigned. Tired.
Something in Jack ached at the sound of it. The feeling surprised him-this yearning mixed with regret. He’d always associated it with Gwen, when she’d seen a little too much and something in her eyes changed. Hardened. This job demanded so much-Jack demanded so much-and he could see what it was costing her. And now he saw Ianto the same way, losing himself in the whirlwind of Torchwood. For a moment all he wanted was to be the one thing they could count on-the one certainty Ianto could rely on. But that was ridiculous, of course. Because not only were there no certainties in this life, but Jack himself could vanish at any time.
Before he could say anything, maybe explain why his expression had suddenly become pained, the others joined them. Gwen and Owen were laughing at some shared joke while Tosh stood a little behind, looking lost. “What’s going on, Jack?” Gwen asked.
Jack took a deep breath. “Tonight is the first of the Torchwood Tuesdays,” he said brightly. “So let’s go.”
The others didn’t budge. “What’s a Torchwood Tuesday?” Owen raised both eyebrows at him, warily curious.
“When we all go out,” Jack answered. “Get your coats.”
***
It should have been an easy way to bond-a pub, friendly banter and good company. The beginning went well. Ianto allowed himself to be drawn out of the hub, although it took a half-pleading, half-encouraging smile from Tosh. He sat next to her, cradling a glass in his hands, fingers toying with the condensation that collected on its sides. Tosh leaned into him a little, her eyes firmly on the table. She still couldn’t look Owen in the eye. The doctor himself had offered to get the first round, but Jack somehow suspected that had more to do with the attractive bartender more than actual generosity. Gwen still watched Owen furtively, gaze darting between him and her drink. Jack thought she saw a flash of something on her face when the bartender laughed, tossing her hair and smiling at Owen. Jealousy? Relief? It could have been both or neither.
Okay, so it wasn’t exactly an ideal excursion. But they were still out together. That was progress.
Jack flashed a grin at Tosh and asked her about the new rift alert program she’d been working on. He wanted to distract her, remind her that she was valuable, and that he took notice.
It worked a little. Tentatively, she began to talk. It was two rounds in that the others had relaxed enough for Jack to really get started.
“Time to play a game,” he announced.
Owen paused in the act of reaching for his drink. “I told you before-no strip poker.”
Tosh choked on a swallow. Ianto reached over and patted her gently between her shoulder blades. “What?” she rasped.
“He wears too many layers-it puts the rest of us at a disadvantage,” Ianto explained to her. He said it gravely, but there was a hint of a smile around his mouth.
Jack didn’t even try for offended. “Sorry to dash your hopes, Owen, but that’s not what I had in mind.”
Gwen spoke up, trying to ignore the flush creeping over her neck and cheeks. “What game?”
Jack leaned forward. “Two truths and a lie. Tell us two true things about yourself and one lie. It’s our job to tell which is which.”
Gwen frowned. “Like I say, ‘I’m secretly a mass murderer,’ and you have to call me on it?”
“I was thinking for something a little less obvious, but yes, that’s the general idea.” Jack grinned. “I once slept with two people who were supposed to execute me.”
They all stared at him. “Truth,” Owen said briskly. “My turn, is it? I was a psych major before I became pre-med.”
Gwen considered. “Lie.”
“Truth,” Ianto corrected. “I’ve seen his file.”
Owen glared at him. “Isn’t that cheating?”
This time it was Tosh who spoke up. “I was arrested and spent time in prison.” Her voice was utterly devoid of emotion, like she was reading the words off a cue card.
Snorting, Owen said, “Big fat lie.”
“Sorry, love,” Gwen laughed, “but you’ll have to go for something more believable next time.”
“I guess so,” Tosh said. Her voice was utterly devoid of emotion, like she was reading the words off a cue card. Jack watched Ianto’s arm move, as if he were taking Tosh’s hand beneath the table. He saw her eyes meet Ianto’s and warm a little. He gave her the tiniest of nods.
“Caught shoplifting when I was younger,” Ianto said quickly, as if trying to draw enemy fire.
“Truth,” Jack said, flashing Owen a grin. “I’ve seen his file, too.”
All eyes turned to Gwen, who shifted uncomfortably. “Um, I hate carrots.”
“Seriously? Tosh claims jail time, Ianto admits to being a criminal,” Owen said, “and you own up to hating carrots? It’s truth, by the way. I’ve seen you pick them off your food.”
Gwen’s mouth twisted. “I need another drink before I start confessing anything juicier.”
Owen sighed dramatically and pushed himself up from the table. “That’s my cue then. Mind helping, Tea-boy?”
Ianto silently rose and followed the doctor.
Jack allowed himself to feel a bit of satisfaction-the outing was going pretty well, all things considered. There were no veiled references to girlfriends, basement-bound or alien, and Owen and Gwen were showing interest in something other than each other. This might be what they all needed: time outside of work, to relax and-
That’s when Jack heard the sound of heavy footsteps, a shout and shattering glass.
Jack was moving before he was even fully aware of it, darting out of his seat. Owen was on the floor, wiping blood away from his mouth. A huge man stood over him, fist ready to deliver another blow. Jack moved hastily, but he wouldn’t be quick enough to stop anything, even he could recognize that.
Ianto came out of nowhere. The fist that should have connected with Owen’s face was yanked away. Before anyone could react, Ianto had the man shoved up against the bar, his right arm twisted up behind his back. He was pinned and if he moved, Ianto could pull that arm up even farther and see exactly what happened to that shoulder.
“Don’t move,” Ianto said coldly.
By that time, Jack was there. He gripped Owen’s shoulder firmly, pulling him up and out of harm’s way. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“You shagged my girl,” the man said into the bar. He moved his head so that one of his eyes was visible, glaring at Owen. “I remember seeing you leave with her. It was our one year anniversary!”
All looked to the doctor. Owen glanced down at his hand, where the blood from his lip was visible. “Damn,” he muttered. When he looked back up and saw everyone staring, his eyes narrowed. “What?”
This hadn’t been the spirited denial Jack was expecting. “Did you?” he asked, his voice deliberately casual. “Sleep with her?”
Owen gave an awkward half-shrug. “Maybe. Don’t really keep track of ‘em all.” Then, feeling the disapproval of nearly everyone in earshot, he added, “What, you expect me to take notes? Keep charts?” His voice lowered so that only those very close by could hear. “When was this? Recent?”
“Few months ago,” the man snarled.
Owen winced. “Might have been…” he looked to Jack, making a gesture like he was using a spray bottle. “You know.” That alien aphrodisiac the doctor he’d used.
Jack shot Owen a disapproving scowl. “You just couldn’t resist, could you? Did you even ask to see if she was attached?”
Owen didn’t reply.
“Nice,” Ianto said derisively. He turned his attention back to the man. “Listen, I’m going to let go in a second. We can just talk about this, right?” He looked at Owen. “Right?”
Very slowly, he loosened his grip on the man’s arm.
Owen gestured at the bar, perhaps about to offer to get the man a drink. Jack shifted, moving to Owen’s shoulder. He could protect him there, if the man attacked again. But he never had the chance. With the swiftness of a cobra strike, the man swiveled and drove his left fist directly into Ianto’s jaw.
Ianto went down, and there was a resounding crack as his head clipped the side of the counter. Jack would have flinched, but he was too busy throwing himself at the man. There was a blur of fists, an angry shout, and suddenly other hands were scrabbling at them, pulling them apart and holding him back. He watched as another bartender, this one male, blond and furious, shoved the other man in the direction of the exit. “Get out,” he said, and there was venom in his voice, “or I call the police. Now.”
The attacker looked as if he would have loved to take a swing at him, but his temper was cooling and common sense was taking over. He snarled a curse, then turned on his heel and left the pub.
Owen was already at work. He knelt beside Ianto, fingers probing at the back of his head. “Hey, you still with me, Tea-Boy?”
Ianto sat up and winced away from the doctor’s touch. “’M okay,” he said. But he swallowed hard and closed his eyes for a moment.
“Nauseas?” Owen’s mouth thinned out into a grim line. “Not good. Hey, hold still. Tosh, hand me that…?” A pale Tosh crouched on Ianto’s other side. She saw what the doctor was gesturing at and quickly grabbed a napkin off the counter. Owen took it and pressed the cloth against Ianto’s head. Ianto hissed as a clean napkin made contact.
“Hey,” the female bartender said. She knelt down beside Owen, her eyes fixated on Ianto. “I just called an ambulance.”
“I’ll go outside to wait for them,” Gwen said. She was already making her way for the door, pushing through the newly formed crowd.
Owen looked up at the bartender, all business. “Mind getting me a bucket or something? Unless you don’t mind cleaning vomit off the floor….”
She blanched and sprinted away.
Ianto’s voice somehow managed to sound dignified, even through gritted teeth. “I’m fine. I don’t feel sick.”
“Yeah, sure,” Owen agreed. “But she was going to hover and I can’t stand that.” He must have applied more pressure, because Ianto made a quiet, pained noise. Owen spoke quickly, as if to distract him. “She fancies you, you know.”
“Really?” This time it was Tosh who spoke up. She reached down and took one of Ianto’s hands, prying apart the fingers long enough to slip her own hand in his. Ianto glanced over at her and Jack watched as he squeezed her hand gratefully. The three of them formed their own little world, Jack thought, protectively huddled together. Jack stood on the fringes of things, struck by how unneeded his presence was.
“She couldn’t stop asking who the pretty bloke in the suit was.” Owen pulled his hand away from Ianto’s head, peering at the makeshift bandage he’d made. The formerly white napkin was sticky and red. Owen sighed and turned his attention to Jack. “He’s going to need stitches. Looks like the first Torchwood Tuesday is breaking up early.”
***
The night started out with Jack rounding them up for drinks. It ended with him sitting beside a hospital bed, sipping horrible coffee, and watching the gentle rise and fall of Ianto’s chest. “He’ll be fine,” Owen had said. “Just a concussion, but they want to keep him overnight just to be sure.”
Jack stayed while the others left for home. He kept replaying the evening’s events in his mind, trying to figure out exactly what he could have done to prevent this. Moved more quickly, maybe. Or gotten in between Ianto and Owen’s attacker. He caught the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, pressing hard. He had to keep thinking, because every time his mind quieted, he could hear the sickening thud of Ianto hitting the counter’s edge.
There was one silver lining to be found, though. During the encounter, the team had acted… well, like a team. Ianto had watched Owen’s back and Owen returned the favor. Tosh hadn’t left Ianto’s side-she’d helped Owen and made soothing noises whenever Ianto grimaced. Gwen had met with the police, giving them a report and description of the attacker. And Jack had stood by and watched, surprised by the efficiency of his team. He knew they were good-after all, he wouldn’t have hired them if they weren’t-but the way they had managed to come together despite the circumstances… it warmed him. When faced with an outside enemy, they had put aside their differences and banded together. Adversity brought them together.
And as he sat there, replaying the evening’s events in his mind, a thought occurred to him.
***
Games.
Jack Harkness liked games. He’d always been good at them-good at reading the other players, good at playing the odds, good at bailing himself out. Add in a dash of dumb luck and it was the combination that had managed to keep him alive this long.
But this was going to be strictly business. He’d play this game for as long as needed, for as long as it took to bring the team together. It wasn’t going to fun or anything.
Okay, maybe a little fun.
It was nearing seven at night, when the others would be leaving for home-or wherever they went when they weren’t here. Too bad they wouldn’t be going there tonight. Jack tapped his Bluetooth and smiled. “Hey guys. Sorry to say this, but we’re going to be working late tonight. If you’ve got plans, I suggest you cancel them.”
There was a double groan-Gwen and Owen’s disappointment mingled in his ear. Ianto remained silent. It was Tosh who spoke up. “What have you got for us, Jack?”
“Paperwork-specifically, expenses,” he said. “They’ve been piling up for weeks now I think it’s a good time to get those in order.”
Gwen sounded confused. “But I’ve already turned mine in.”
This time he had to work hard to keep the smile out of his voice. “But Owen hasn’t. And I’m sorry to say Tosh… you’ve got a few, as well. And Ianto, could you bring up that news release I asked you about? I want to talk to you about that.”
“And me?” Gwen asked.
“You get to help everyone else.”
It only took a few minutes for the conference room to fill up. Owen came in, staggering under the weight of a stack of papers, followed closely by Gwen. “When was the last time you did this?”
Owen heaved the stack onto the table and collapsed into a chair. “Dunno. When were you hired again?” He glowered at the pile. “Since when is paperwork my responsibility?”
“Because I said so,” Jack said. His voice was light, but left no room for argument.
It was around three in the morning when he let them stagger home.
And two hours later, he sent out a text to summon them back.
***
Day two.
“Rhys woke up when I left,” Gwen was muttering, “and he’s not happy.”
Jack head Owen “hmm-ing,” but that was all the doctor said. The team looked groggy but interested as they approached the deserted club. The rain was drifting down in lazy sheets, soaking through outer layers and making those without jackets shiver.
“Strange noises,” Jack said, answering the unsaid question. “Someone phoned in a emergency call-said they saw something huge and slimy.”
“Just the way I like to start my mornings.” Owen was less than pleased. The others remained quiet.
***
Day three.
Ianto was delivering the second round of caffeine when Jack asked Tosh about water-proofing the cells. “That thing looked like something out of an old horror movie, and I don’t like the idea of cleaning slime out of every nook and cranny in those cells,” he said. “Gwen, have you called the police? We need to know if they’ve seen anything.”
“But I thought you said the slime thing was harmless.” Gwen sipped at her coffee. “Thanks, Ianto.”
Jack took his own cup and nodded thanks. “Yes, but I want to know how it got here. The system its species is from doesn’t have the technology to reach other planets yet. I want to know if Mr. Slime is a hitchhiker, or if the rift is responsible.”
Tosh looked up from her computer. “Um, Jack? How late do you think we’re going to be working? Another all-nighter?”
Jack smiled and did not reply.
“Mind getting us another round?” Owen muttered to Ianto. “I think we’re gonna need it.”
***
Day four.
“I need this filed,” Jack barked at Ianto. “Tosh, could you hack into UNIT again? I just got off the phone with them and they swear they know nothing about the disappearing slime monster. Gwen, I need you to interview a few of the witnesses and deem whether or not retcon is required. Owen, go with her.”
***
“What do you need now?” Tosh looked at him, pleading.
“Clean out the cells,” Jack said. “Haven’t done that in a while.”
Gwen looked-no, actually glared-at him. This was the fifth day of what Jack had mentally deemed “Game Time,” and Owen was now referring to as “fucking insanity.” They were at the hub constantly, Jack working them harder than he ever had. He cheerfully informed them that the rift was being exceptionally busy lately and they needed to be there. And while there were grumbles, no one had bailed yet.
Jack waited, patient. He had a feeling he knew who would be first.
***
It was on the sixth day of this insanity that Owen finally began to suspect something.
Jack worked them harder than was decent (or probably legal), Owen thought. There was always something to do, something to catch, something to research, something to look into… and if they seemed in danger of actually getting it all done, something would go wrong. Owen was pretty damn sure he’d seen Jack flit away from Owen’s computer station just before the fucking computer crashed, losing three hours of work. Then the computer wouldn’t boot back up and Tosh spent a solid day trying to fix everything. Then there was a weevil sighting, which sent all of them scrambling, but once they arrived on the scene… no weevil. Jack claimed it must have gone back into the sewers or something.
By the time Owen had stumbled home and collapsed into bed-it was soft and cold and felt so incredibly good-he was ready to sleep for days. And then Jack called him. Again. Bloody weevil sighting. Again.
Once he got there… no weevil. Again.
“Might as well come back to the hub,” Jack said in his ear, all too cheerfully.
Owen spent the next few hours amusing himself with what Jack would look like if locked in with Janet.
The team looked as ragged as he felt. They were surviving on a combination of determination and caffeine, but Owen was pretty sure that wouldn’t hold out much longer. Certainly not as long as Jack’s mania.
When Gwen strode by him, files in hand, he caught her by the arm. He leaned in close-close enough to smell that cherry scented shampoo she used-and hissed into her ear. “This is the fucking Iranian Embassy and its 1980.”
“What?”
He looked at her scathingly. “Didn’t you ever pay attention to history?”
It took her a few seconds to catch on. “Oh. The hostage situation.” Her eyes went wide. “Oh.”
“He’s never going to let us leave,” Owen whispered. “Something’s up with him and we’re never going to get out of here.”
She was wary. “What do you want to do about it?”
“War council. Tell the others to meet by the coffee maker in ten. If You-Know-Who asks, just say we’re pestering Ianto about the bloody coffee.”
***
“What is going on?” Gwen asked, peering around Ianto to make sure Jack was out of sight. “And why are we whispering?”
“Because we don’t want him to hear.” Owen gave her a “you-should-know-that” look.
“But he can-”
“CCTV is temporarily having problems,” Tosh said archly. “So, what exactly do we think is going on here?”
Owen snorted. “Jack’s become a nutter. I swear he’s been sabotaging us-did you see him mess with my computer?!-so we can’t go home.”
There was a long silence while the others thought about it. There was no denying Jack’s strange behavior, his relentless good cheer amidst the practically illegal work ethic. He’d never been so… insistant about his power to keep them at work. “I think we’re being paranoid,” Gwen said quietly. “He’s just getting us to do our job.”
“When did you last see Rhys?” Owen made the question into an accusation.
Wrong thing to say. Gwen flared up at once, eyes blazing. “You don’t have the right to say a word about my relationship with Rhys,” she said.
“What relationship?” Owen shot back.
Ianto and Tosh pretended not to hear. “What do you think?” she asked him. He shrugged.
“It’s Jack,” was all Ianto said.
The quiet stretched out, heavy with tension, until Jack’s voice shattered it. “Hey, need you guys up here!”
All of them jumped. “What now?” Tosh said wearily.
***
“We’re going to rehabilitate weevils?”
Jack nodded earnestly.
***
The second war council took place in the hothouse.
“This has got to stop,” Owen said, keeping his voice to a whisper. “I was all right when he was just trying to get us to spend extra time training and stuff-but this-this is-”
“Dangerous?” Tosh suggested.
“I was going to say ‘fucking ridiculous,’ but that works too,” Owen replied.
Gwen peeked over her shoulder in the direction of Jack’s office. “Maybe he really has been replaced. But buy what?”
“Shape shifter?” Tosh said. “Some kind of remote mind control?”
Ianto held up both hands, palms out, as if trying to stop traffic. Everyone looked at him. “Maybe he’s serious,” he said. “Maybe we should try to do this. Try to rehabilitate them. If we could find out what makes the weevils go rogue and fix that…” His voice trailed off, as if imagining the possibilities.
Owen looked at Gwen. “I just got a mental image of a weevil trying to eat with a knife and fork.”
She tried to stifle her laugh, so it came out more as a snort. This made even Ianto smile.
“Mind control,” she decided.
Owen shook his head. “Ten quid says shape shifter. Jack’s proven pretty resistant to mind stuff-” (three pairs of eyes all flicked to Tosh and away again) “-so they’d have to kidnap and replace him completely.”
“They?” Gwen bit down on her lower lip, worried. “Are we serious? Who would want to infiltrate us?”
There was a beat of silence, and then Tosh said what they were all thinking. “Who wouldn’t?”
“This could be a test,” Gwen said. “Some kind of Torchwood procedure, to see what we would do in the event that one of us was acting strangely.” She considered.
“We could sedate him,” Owen muttered. “Tie him down and scan him for every possibility. Most shape shifters can’t duplicate DNA… and if someone’s controlling him, wouldn’t there be some kind of signal…?” He looked to Tosh. It took her a second to understand that he expected a response, then she nodded quickly.
“I’ll do some research,” she said. “What are we going to do in the mean time?”
This got a smirk out of Owen. “We get him into that little cubby thing of his, then shove his desk over the entrance.”
“That’s really unprofessional,” Tosh said. “We’re doing a job.”
“Yeah, very unprofessional.” Gwen nodded eagerly. “Besides, it’d easier to pop some sleeping pills in his coffee.” Three pairs of eyes turned to Ianto, who had yet to say anything. He raised both hands, palms out, in a defensive gesture.
“I’ve got to get up the tourist office,” he said. “Text me if you decide on a time for the coup d'état.”
***
Owen would have liked to take credit for their first attempt. It all stemmed from his fantasy of locking Jack in with Janet. Instead, they (Tosh) simply tripped the lock system so that Jack was accidentally trapped in an empty cell. Their plan was to keep him stuck inside the unbreakable walls with only a mop and bucket for company, Tosh and Owen tried to think of a way they could keep him down there while furtively scanning him.
All four of them watched the CCTV, not breathing, waiting to see if the door actually clicked shut behind Jack.
It did. And they watched as Jack began prodding at the lock, a confused look on his face.
“Victory.” Owen was smug. After all, this had been his idea.
Gwen pumped a fist into the air and grinned.
Silently, Ianto lifted a finger and pointed back at the tv screen. They all glanced back. Jack was pressing something on his wristband, concentrating, and then the cell door swung open.
Three jaws dropped.
***
The second attempt was a little more convoluted.
“Listen,” Gwen said into the phone, “I’ve explained this to you three times. It’s not that difficult. Just walk into the tourist office like you normally would, but say that you saw something. Act really scared.”
The girl sounded confused. “Saw what?”
Okay, she’d definitely explained this before. But she ground back his retort and forced himself to remain calm. Collected. Not about to rip someone’s head off. “I want you to say you saw something like a monster. Something with big, shark-like teeth. Wearing a jumpsuit. And you’ve got to arrive at noon. Exactly.” The delivery girl snapped her gum again-Christ, that noise was disgusting over the phone. Gwen winced. “You can do that right?”
“I’m not sure….”
“Let’s phrase this a new way,” Gwen said, “there will be a huge tip for you if you do it.”
“Is this some kind of prank?”
“Um, yeah.” It was the only explanation that didn’t make her sound insane. “A prank. So, will you do it?”
There was a pause while she considered. “Do you still want a pizza?”
“Meat feast, please.” Gwen hung up the phone and let out a groan. Plan B was on.
Ianto, who had been texted the time of the coup d'état, was better at sabotage than the pizza girl. Right on time, he called Jack about looking over a few reports. As the captain passed by, on his way to the office, Owen held his breath. As soon as the circular door clicked shut, Owen dashed to Tosh’s station.
“Bring up the office,” he said. “I want to see when he leaves.”
Gwen leaned over Tosh, eagerly watching. They observed as the wall slid open and Jack joined Ianto in the tourist office. Sound was turned off, so they couldn’t hear what was said, but it didn’t matter. Ianto slipped a file from a drawer and began gesturing at it. Jack listened intently.
Owen lifted his arm and glanced at his watch. “ETA is two minutes, right?”
Gwen nodded. Once Jack and Ianto were out to search for the non-existent weevil, the others would search Jack’s office and try to find something-anything-that would explain his strange behavior.
“One minute,” Owen muttered. Tosh chewed on her thumbnail, gazing at the screen. The seconds ticked by and noon came. Owen leaned forward. “Come on, come on… where is she?”
They waited. 12:00. 12:05. 12:10.
“Ianto’s starting to sweat,” Gwen said. “He can only drag a file out for so long.”
“Where is she?” Tosh worried.
Ianto was still talking by 12:20, but he was obviously losing Jack. The captain was nodding in a bored way, his eyes beginning to glaze over. He finally lost all interested a few minutes later, taking the file and escaping Ianto’s monologue. How he’d managed to draw it out for so long, Gwen would never know.
Jack trotted back inside the hub, file under his arm. “Gwen, you talked to UNIT again yet?” he asked. She wilted and picked up the phone.
Fifteen minutes later, Ianto came down. He carried several boxes. “Anybody want pizza?” he asked.
Owen began to hit his forehead against the wall. Repeatedly.
***
The third war council took place next in the archives. Tucked between ‘f’ and ‘g,’ they tried to figure out a new strategy.
“This isn’t working,” Tosh said, her brow wrinkling. “Maybe if we try a new tactic….”
Owen’s smile was more a grimace. “We need something more drastic. You think holding him at gunpoint is too much?”
Gwen and Tosh just stared at him. “Just kidding,” he sighed. “Sort of, anyway.”
As the debate became more heated, Ianto slipped away. It was easy to do so-his presence barely registered with them.
***
Jack was on the roof when Ianto found him. Ianto moved silently to the captain’s side and stared out at the horizon. The clouds were heavy and mist drifted downward. Ianto had worn a heavy wool coat, Jack noticed. He was also carrying a steaming cup. Jack took it without hesitation.
Ianto didn’t look at him when he spoke. “You’ve acting strange lately, sir. I thought it fair to warn you that Owen is considering sedating you for a thorough examination.”
Jack coughed on a swallow and looked down at his coffee.
Ianto laughed. Actually laughed. “Don’t worry-I didn’t let Owen near this batch.”
“Good.” Jack couldn’t help but chuckle. “Has he got a pool going?”
Though he still looked into the distance, rather than meeting Jack’s eyes, the corner of Ianto’s mouth twitched upward. “Mind control device currently has the best odds, but Owen’s got his money on shape shifter.”
Again, Jack laughed. He could just imagine Owen, Tosh and Gwen, heads together, furtively betting and discussing what was wrong with their boss. “Why?”
Ianto spoke quickly. “Group pub visit. Then you trapped us here, making us work constantly. Sabotaging us when we get too much done.” And oddly enough, he hesitated before listing off the last one. “Two truths and a lie. You have to admit, you’ve been a little… more hands on than you used to.”
“And yet you came out to warn me,” Jack said lightly. “You obviously think I haven’t been replaced.”
The smile on Ianto’s face faded and become something more pensive. He didn’t answer aloud, but nodded once.
“The last time I played that game, it was during my orientation at Torchwood One. They hired in groups, and would spend at least a week easing us into the system. Group exercises-they were a big part of it. We learned to trust one another, like one another, and work together as a team.” He laughed, but it was a bitter sound. “It didn’t save us in the end, though.”
It would be so easy to touch Ianto, but that would bridge invisible barriers-and Jack knew he’d lost the right. It was only when Ianto shivered, pulling his coat closer, that Jack found himself putting his hand on Ianto’s back. The younger man’s head jerked up and he looked quickly, and then wrenched his gaze forward again.
Jack wasn’t sure if he’d done the right thing or not. When he pulled away, his fingers slid over Ianto’s shoulder. The wool of his coat was rough and damp, but Jack knew how warm Ianto would be inside of it. For one wild moment, he wanted to slip his hands inside the garment, feel that warmth without the barrier between them.
The younger man turned to face Jack directly, and the invisible walls came back up. Ianto gave him a measured look. “You’ve been conning us. You wanted us to believe that something was wrong with you.”
Jack shook his head, laughing. He should have known Ianto would be the one to figure it out. “You would have made a great partner… back in the day.”
“Back in what day?”
“Back when I did this kind of thing for a living.”
Ianto was looking at him in that measured way of his. “Truth or lie?”
“Truth.” Jack’s smile splintered and broke. “All too true.”
Ianto allowed Jack a moment before asking the most important question. Then he met Jack’s eyes and said, “Why?”
Jack tilted his head and smiled. “Why do you think?” He had to admit he was interested in Ianto’s conclusions, whatever they were. He’d managed to figure out this much.
Ianto’s expression did not change from that careful neutrality, but his mouth thinned out the tiniest bit. His hand came up and he rubbed his chin. “You’ve been creating chaos,” he said slowly, as if thinking out each word. “And after both mine and Tosh’s betrayals, the others are understandably suspicious of any change in behavior. If you’re aim was to create an even more mistrustful work environment, you’ve succeeded.”
Jack could not help his wide grin. “I don’t think so. You all ganged up on me pretty well. Worked together to overcome a common goal. Depended on each other’s talents in order to take down a threat.” He shrugged. “Looked a lot like team bonding to me.”
Ianto took some time to process this. “You’ve kept us at work for days, made us think you were a shape shifter or worse, all for the sake of making us trust you?”
Jack started to say something, maybe to explain, but Ianto cut him off.
You don’t have to play games with us,” he said. “To make us trust you, I mean.”
Jack smiled ruefully. “Games work. And I wasn’t trying to make you trust me-just each other.”
“Did you pay that guy to attack Owen?”
Jack kept his face impassive and didn’t respond. Again, he was interested in Ianto’s conclusions.
Ianto hesitated, eyes flickering up to meet Jack’s, and then back down again. “Did you pay that guy to attack me?”
For a moment, Jack couldn’t move. He felt heat, like someone was burning him, but the tips of his fingers were completely numb. His mouth opened to protest, to say that he would never do something like that, and was surprised to find that nothing came out.
“It’s not like you to be speechless, sir,” Ianto said quietly.
“Ianto,” Jack said, and it came out like a plea. Ianto met his gaze then, cool and unassuming as usual. But there was something behind it-a calculation that Jack had rarely seen there before.
“Do you really think I would do that to you?” The question came out sounding angry, even though Jack tried to stay calm.
“I’m sorry, sir, but you’ve never given us any clue as to where your limits are,” Ianto said. And the sheer truthfulness of that statement cut Jack deeper than any slight could have.
Jack grabbed Ianto’s arm, twisting him so that they were face-to-face and closer than they had been in days. “You’re right. I have very few limits.” Ianto tried to take a step back, but Jack didn’t let go. Rather, his fingers dug tighter into Ianto’s sleeve, tight enough to bruise. “When it comes to protecting those I care about, I will do just about anything.”
Ianto had gone completely still, but Jack felt him shudder involuntarily. Jack didn’t give him time to respond. “I can’t watch Torchwood fall. I know we’re all going through a rough patch right now, but I won’t let you fall apart. I know you don’t trust me-but I need you guys to be able to trust one another. I need you guys to be able to function when I’m not around.”
Ianto appeared to be processing his words. He took a few steps back and looked away. Agitatedly, he pulled at the collar of his coat, tugging it down a bit as if it irritated him. Jack found himself staring at Ianto’s neck-that pale curve of throat descending into shoulder. The rush of emotion Jack felt surprised him. He wanted to touch that neck, maybe trace the contours of it with his lips, bury his face in that safe place beneath Ianto’s chin and breathe him in.
God, it was times like this that made him so grateful that Tosh hadn’t been able to read his mind.
When Ianto spoke, it was so quietly that Jack almost didn’t catch the words. “I’m sorry.” He hesitated, then appeared to make some decision. “When I-” He stumbled over the words, then shook himself, as if coming awake from a dream.
Jack was at a loss. He felt that ache again, when he looked at Ianto and felt hollow. This man should have been somewhere else, rising through the ranks of some corporate business or opening his own coffee shop. Not in Torchwood, losing himself. “What?” he said, keeping his voice calm.
Ianto shifted away, skittish. Jack reached out, meaning to put grasp Ianto’s shoulder. Somehow his palm ended up on Ianto’s chest, fingers curling around his lapel. It wasn’t a tight grip, the younger man could have broken away, but it made Jack feel connected to him. “Ianto,” he said, and it wasn’t a question or rebuke. Just a name-a name that slipped from his mouth with an ease that surprised him.
Ianto inhaled sharply. He wouldn’t meet Jack’s eyes when he finally spoke. “When I said I didn’t trust you… that was my lie,” Ianto said quietly. “It’s me I don’t trust, not you.”
The words took a moment to sink in, then Jack’s other hand came up. He stroked the line of Ianto’s throat. It was a place Ianto usually hid from the world, tucked away behind collars and ties and other thick layers of clothing. Jack touched the curve of his chin, and his thumb found the swell of Ianto’s lower lip. He had no idea what he was doing-if he was seducing, exploring or something else. He waited for Ianto to move, to strike out and push him away. But Ianto wasn’t moving. He shivered and sucked in sharp breath, but he didn’t move away. Jack leaned in close, close enough to count each of Ianto’s eyelashes, and said words he hadn’t even known were true until that moment.
“I trust you,” Jack said.
Ianto’s eyes widened. His lips parted to inhale, to gasp. That snapped the last threads of Jack’s self control. He leaned in, covering Ianto’s mouth with his own. Soft. Warm. Still. The younger man had frozen over, his fingers splayed on Jack’s chest. He could have paused in the act of either pushing Jack away or pulling him closer. The kiss was careful.
And then Ianto surprised him. His fingers dug into Jack’s shirt, became fists, and he dragged Jack closer. He kissed hungrily, desperately, holding on like Jack was the only thing keeping him grounded. Jack held himself back, surprised by Ianto’s fervor, but couldn’t remain that way when his mouth was coaxed open. He felt the scratchy wool of Ianto’s coat, then slipped his hand inside and downward. His hand dipped into small of his back and pulled Ianto even closer, so he could feel the sharpness of his hip bone, the rise and fall of his chest.
Ianto pulled away, breathing heavily. Jack followed his lead and drew away. Ianto was flushed and his lips looked swollen. The sight made Jack want to pin him to the ground, to tease and take until Ianto begged for more. It was lust mixed with something else-something like tenderness.
Ianto was staring at him like he’d never really seen the captain before. He steadied himself, hands unconsciously coming up to smooth his collar back into place. “I should get back down there,” he said, and his voice was hoarse.
Jack didn’t answer right away-he had to bite down on his disappointment. He felt weak and a little dizzy, which confused him. “If that’s what you want.”
Ianto looked torn. His eyes flitted back to the door, but his shoulders were angled toward Jack. “I-not now,” he said. “Just… not now.”
Jack nodded. “Okay, but can I ask why?”
Ianto looked upward, probably just to avoid looking at Jack. The corner of his mouth twitched. “Because… you’re probably going to pass out in a minute or two.”
It took Jack longer than it should have to figure it out what Ianto meant. “You said Owen never went anywhere near this batch.”
Ianto looked perfectly innocent. “He didn’t. I did.”
Shaking his head, Jack took a step toward Ianto. His feet suddenly seemed harder to control, and his legs trembled a bit. “Fool me once,” he muttered, “shame on you. Fool me twice… well, that’s never happened before.” The vertigo increased and Jack found himself trying to focus on Ianto, rather than the blackness edging his sight. He waved a hand where he thought Ianto was. “So was all this… part of the plan?”
He tried to take another step, but the ground moved and abruptly tilted. He expected to hit the ground hard, but he found himself breathing in wet wool. It took some concentration to figure out what had happened. Ianto’s voice sounded close to Jack’s ear.
“There was never a plan. I just thought I’d humor Owen,” Ianto said. “And I meant what I said.”
Jack’s head sunk onto Ianto’s shoulder. His lips quirked into a smile. He might not have another chance at this and he could later blame this on whatever Ianto had dosed him with. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to Ianto’s throat. He felt the younger man tense, then relax.
“I just have one question, while you’re still conscious,” Ianto said, and he sounded tense.
Answering was difficult, Jack’s lips felt numb. “W-what’s that?”
Ianto let out a sigh and Jack felt his chest fall. “Will you forgive her?”
“What?” This wasn’t what Jack was expecting.
Ianto shifted underneath Jack. “Tosh. She’s the one that set this whole trust issue off, right? Will you forgive her for betraying your trust?”
Jack snorted. He thought he understood now. “You remember the moment that she realized Mary was dead?”
He waited for an answer. Ianto didn’t say anything but Jack felt him nod. Ianto must have seen it, too-the flash of realization on Tosh’s face, then the way she’d seemed to crumple. She wrapped her arms around her stomach, and just tried to breathe evenly.
“I forgave her then,” Jack mumbled.
Lips ghosted over the corner of Jack’s mouth. Ianto might have said something else, but the sound blurred in Jack’s ears.
***
Sometime later, Jack awoke to find himself strapped to a metal table with Owen leaning over him, brandishing a scalpel.
Okay. So you win some, you lose some.