Damaged Souls - Part 11/?
Title: Damaged Souls - Part 11/?
Pairings: Little bit of Jack/Ianto, teeny tiny mention of Ianto/Lisa and Rhys/Gwen, Spike/Owen, and Willow/Tosh. (This chapter)
Word Count: 3,335
Rating: NC-17 (This chapter)
Status: Incomplete
Note: This is the third and final fic of a series I've begun. This story begins shortly after Buffy's Chosen.
Summary: BTVS crossover - When Ianto returns to Cardiff, Jack and the Torchwood team must figure out how to react to the changes in him, as well as how to react to the new friends this unfamiliar Ianto brought with him.
Note: Hey, come on. I know you guys are reading this (or at least I hope you are). Reviews make me happy and make me write faster. You guys don't want me to fall behind in posting do you? Because once I fall behind, I'll never finish this. =P
Previous Stories:
Story One: Moving On
Story Two: While You Were Gone
This Story:
Previous Chapters:
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10
New Chapter:
Jack leaned one shoulder against the glass wall of the conference room overlooking the Hub. His eyes stayed locked on Ianto, watching as the Welshman sat on the couch, chatting with Gwen and Xander. Ianto and his new friends had been hanging around the Hub since Ianto and Willow’s resurrection, and as much as Jack loved having Ianto there with him, it hurt.
Ianto hadn’t spoken to him since he appeared in his bed three days prior, shaking and scared from his resurrection. Ianto had let him hold him that day, let him comfort him, but in the three days since, the younger man hadn’t let Jack within ten feet of him.
It hurt, a harsh proof that Ianto didn’t trust him. And as much as it hurt, Jack understood. He’d left Ianto, abandoned all of them, but of course it would have hit that gorgeous Welshman harder than the rest of the team. He didn’t know what Ianto felt for him then or now. A part of him-the cocky and arrogant part-said that Ianto was in love with him, because, really, who wasn’t? But another part of him-a less confident and more realistic part-asked just how could Ianto love him after he abandoned him to follow what Torchwood was created to catch.
Jack’s eyes softened as he watched Ianto laugh, feet propped up on the table in a way that he never would have done a year ago.
Ianto had changed after he left. He looked happier now. And that time in California had done him good. He was still pale, but not so much that it looked unhealthy.
There was life in his eyes.
Jack wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen Ianto’s eyes shine like they had since their reunion at the Ritz. He’d had that look before, Jack knew, he’d seen those same eyes with that same shine in a picture Ianto carried in his wallet of he and his friends that were killed in Canary Wharf.
Torchwood London had stolen that shine.
No. Yvonne Hartman, the Daleks, and the Cybermen had stolen that shine.
And he hadn’t helped it. He’d let Ianto flirt his way into Torchwood Three with the pterodactyl , tight jeans, and amazing coffee. He’d let Ianto remain after Lisa.
He should have said no when Ianto asked for a job. He should have Retconned Ianto after Lisa, let him live a normal life free of Torchwood.
But he’d been pigheaded, thinking that Retcon was an easy way out and that one day he’d get that blue-eyed Welshman into his bed.
Well, he had gotten that silent watcher into his bed. And onto his desk. And onto Owen’s desk. And onto the roof of the Millennium Center.
Never once had he suggested more until after their first encounter with Abaddon. He’d never thought of it. He was immortal and Ianto wasn’t. He was going to live and Ianto was going to grow old and die.
And then he woke up to the feel of lips on his, lips that weren’t Ianto’s; too small, too moist, to feminine, too Gwen. He’d frozen while he was changing from that gown, realized that Ianto was the one he wanted to see when he woke up. He didn’t want Gwen. He fancied her, but only as a reminder of what he couldn’t have.
He’d wanted Ianto.
He still did.
Ianto didn’t look up to the conference room once. Jack knew Ianto could feel him staring, knew that Jack knew he knew, but he didn’t look up once.
He forced his eyes away from Ianto, instead turning them to the Hub’s other inhabitants.
Gwen sat beside Ianto, tucked under his arm, poking him in the stomach, and prompting a laugh from the Welshman. Xander, who sat across from them, smiled, pointing at another part of Ianto’s body, laughing when Ianto tried to scrunch and protect it from being poked by the small woman. He failed, all of them falling into laughter.
Jack was happy for Gwen, happy to see her smile. He knew how much losing Rhys had to have hurt her, and though her eyes weren’t back to their former glow, and may never be, she was slowly beginning to recover. She’d never see Rhys again, but she had Ianto back and with him, she’d gained more people in her life, more people to make her laugh and try to forget that she was supposed to be walking down the aisle in a few days time. Her dress would gather dust in the closet, but maybe one day she’d be able to take it out and smile, remembering the good memories instead of the tragic end. Jack could see Xander’s gaze keep flickering back to Gwen, a look of understanding on his face that Jack didn’t want someone as young as him to know.
Willow stood beside Tosh’s workstation, eyeing the computers with an awestruck expression that hadn’t left her face once since she got a proper look at it. Tosh sat beside her, casting small glances at the redhead, both of them blushing and turning away when they’d meet each other’s gazes.
Jack smiled fondly, happy for Tosh and the woman he had yet to get to know. They’d make a good couple if and when one of them ever spoke up. A voice whispered in the back of his head, asking if it was worth it, letting Willow, who seemed nice enough, fall for Tosh only to watch her die while she continued to live.
Owen stood down in the med bay, scowling as Spike toyed with some instrument. The Londoner no doubt hated that the bond required he be so close to Spike and the blonde wasn’t making it any easier, constantly touching and smearing fingerprints over anything he could get his hands on. As much as a slob as he could be with everything else, Owen was obsessive about his medical station, keeping it as clean and organized as he could. And Spike was ruining that.
Jack chuckled, in disbelief that a vampire that was two hundred years old could be so childish. As Owen cut too hard into the alien corpse in front of him, Jack shook his head. Watching those two for eternity, should they all stay together, would definitely be a treat.
‘They’. Ianto had eternity now and Jack couldn’t decide if he was happy or sad about that. On one hand, he had eternity with Ianto. But on the other, Ianto was cursed to watch everyone he cared about die and that beautiful shine would die a bit with each death until there was nothing left, and there was no guarantee that Ianto would stay.
He wanted Ianto, wanted Ianto completely. Every smile, every laugh, every witty comment, every scar that Canary Wharf had left behind. He wanted Ianto Jones, body, heart, and soul.
He just didn’t know if he’d ever get it.
---
He cornered Ianto when the Welshman walked into the kitchenette to make coffee, standing in the one exit. “Ianto.”
Ianto didn’t acknowledge him, instead operating the coffee machine that they’d all been convinced was alien before Ianto had joined them. He measured a bigger portion than he used to, now making enough for the entire team plus his new friends. Part of him wanted to ask if he made them coffee back in Sunnydale, but a smarter part of him told him to keep his mouth shut and that if he asked, he’d never get a second (Third? Fourth?) chance.
“Ianto,” he started again, stepping forward and laying a hand on Ianto’s shoulder.
Ianto jerked away from him, turning his head sharply. “Don’t touch me.”
Three words. Well, at least it was better than none.
“Ianto, please. I…we need to talk.”
Ianto turned his back to him, pulling down each person’s specific mugs. They hit the tray harder than necessary. “We have nothing to speak about, Captain.”
“Ianto-”
Ianto spun at him, eyes ablaze. “I am not your employee. I am not your subordinate. I am not your bed buddy. I am not your anything. We have nothing to speak about, Sir. Anything we had to talk about became irrelevant when you left. Just because you’ve decided to return does not mean that we have anything to discuss. I’m here for them, I’m here to keep more innocent people like Rhys from getting killed by things that you don’t know how to fight. You and I have nothing to talk about,” he stopped, eyes saddening as he took a step closer to Jack. The next time he spoke, his voice was softer, sadder. “There is no we. There is no us. You lost that chance when you left. You hurt me and I…I don’t think I can forgive that. I may be able to get past it eventually, but I don’t know if I can forgive you.” He stepped closer, his chest now inches from Jack’s. “This…I don’t know what you were promising in that kiss, but any chance of more,” he paused, kissing Jack once, “Of this, is over.”
Ianto stepped back, turning away and Jack was sure he saw Ianto wipe at his eyes. He picked up the tray, walking past Jack’s frozen figure and out of the kitchenette.
Jack didn’t move, eyes frozen on the spot where Ianto had once stood. Ianto’s taste was on his lips; hazelnut coffee and a hint of the peppermint tea he’d indulge in when he was stressed.
He’d gotten what he wanted, he’d gotten Ianto to speak to him, but he hadn’t wanted that. The devil on his shoulder laughed at him, asking him what the hell had he thought would happen, had he thought Ianto would jump into his arms, screaming I love you from the rooftops?
He hadn’t expected a declaration of love, but he’d hoped for anything other than Ianto saying that they wouldn’t have another chance. His chest hurt as the reality of the situation hit.
He’d really lost Ianto.
He forced himself to turn and face the rest of the Hub, watching as Ianto handed out coffees and smiling as if their talk hadn’t just happened seconds before. He stepped forward with a deep breath, pushing back any emotion that wanted to surface. He had to be the leader and the leader couldn’t cry when he got dumped, not when it was his fault.
That little devil snickered, asking him if it was worth it, if losing Ianto had been worth following the Doctor for answers a part of him always knew.
Now, he wasn’t so sure.
---
Ianto placed the tray containing the last three cups of coffee-and one blood-down beside him as he leaned over the railing overlooking the medical bay. Owen was below, autopsying an alien and growling at Spike as the blonde vampire continued to poke and prod everything he could, the abdomen area of the alien at that very moment. Tosh and Willow stood on the other side of the table, Tosh explaining the alien to an enthralled Willow.
“It’s called a Ren-fu. We ran into one before, just about a week before we met Gwen,” Tosh said before going onto explain the history-that they were aware of-of the species and their first encounter with the creature from a planet over nine hundred light years away in the thirty-second century.
Ianto remembered the last time they met one. Owen had been crabby because Suzie had kicked him out of her bed the night before and came back in even more irritable when he returned, with the corpse and himself covered in a putrid yellow blood. They were grotesque creatures, an ill mixture of what Ianto could only guess as purple, orange, and green. It was tall, over six feet, with horns protruding from its nostrils and blue fins on its neck. Its hands and feet resembled talons, sharp and deadly. No aliens found them attractive, not even their own kind. Its only option when it came to sex was to douse the partner in a shower of pheromone spray. The female would kill the male following the act, having no further use for it, but the male could not kill the female in case she had fallen pregnant.
Owen had drained the spray from the last one and Ianto knew how much it had annoyed Jack-speak of the devil, he just took the place beside him-that Owen had used alien chemicals to get laid.
Ianto shifted his weight to the foot furthest from Jack, clearly uncomfortable as he rolled his shoulders and stared harder at his friends below.
Tosh had taken a break from explaining, her and Willow both giggling as Owen let loose on Spike, shouting at him to leave him “the bloody hell alone”, although it was clearly having no effect on the vampire as he continued to poke at it.
All conversation stopped a second later when Spike poked just under the left fin and a clear liquid sprayed from the sliver between its eyes.
Oh, shit.
The four below stood, eyes shut and wiping the spray liquid from their faces. Ianto looked to Jack, ignoring the amused look on the older man’s face. “Shall I direct them towards the vaults?”
“No time,” Jack replied, not looking at Ianto as he nodded back to the bottom of the med bay. Ianto followed his gaze just in time to see Owen look up at Spike, glaring. Both men paused, staring at each other for a long moment before they launched themselves at each other, falling to the ground, lips against lips with Owen on top of Spike. Willow and Tosh were no different. They dove at each other, hands entangled in each other’s hair as they kissed, Willow sandwiching Tosh between her and the autopsy table.
“I suppose not.” Ianto turned, backing away a step, and stopping when Jack didn’t follow. “I believe we should give them some privacy, Sir.” He walked away after that, this time not checking to see if Jack was behind him.
---
The air shot from Owen’s lungs, Spike’s body doing nothing to break the sudden stop from their fall. He separated from the kiss long enough to suck in another deep breath of air before diving in again, his erection already straining against his jeans.
Need…him…
---
Willow’s hands ran down Tosh’s body, fingers grazing the skin that was just barely peeking out from the back of her shirt. Such soft, beautiful skin. She tastes like cherries.
Want her.
---
Spike bent his leg, flipping them so that he straddled Owen’s waist. He growled, nipping Owen’s earlobe with human teeth and prompting a moan from the Londoner that sent a wave of want straight to his dick. Boy’s moans sounded like a bleeding pornstar.
Want in him now.
---
Tosh gripped Willow’s hips, pulling the redhead closer, but stepping away from the autopsy table. She moved Willow backwards until the witch’s back was pressed against the wall. She lowered herself to her knees, lifting Willow’s shirt, and kissing Willow’s exposed abdomen. Warm, soft.
Want to make her hers.
---
Owen broke away, pulling off his lab coat and shirt. He almost shivered at Spike’s appreciative growl as the vampire pushed him back to the floor, pulling off his own top layers. Pale, chiseled, cold.
He pulled Spike back in for a kiss, fingers unhooking pant buttons.
---
Willow felt her jeans sag around her, the once secure button undone as Tosh pulled them to her ankles and kissed the little heart emblazoned on her panties. Her head fell back, hitting the wall with a soft thud. She didn’t feel it. All she could feel were Tosh’s hands, fingers playing just on the inside of her thigh, and her lips kissing the now wet cotton.
Oh, God.
---
Spike smirked as Owen arched against him, his tongue toying with a nipple. He pulled away, blowing on the moistened skin. Owen’s moan went right through him, the sound sending a jolt straight to his already throbbing cock. He tore off the latex gloves Owen had been wearing for the autopsy, leaving the both of them completely bare.
All his.
---
Tosh trailed kisses up Willow’s body, removing the forest green top as she went. She kissed Willow softly, just between her breasts, feeling the redhead’s racing heart echoing beneath her lips. Her fingers moved behind Willow, unhooking the bra and freeing the fleshy mounds that jumped as Willow struggled for breath.
Cold air hit her as Willow waved a shaking hand and left them devoid of clothes and she pulled Willow onto the floor with her, hot body pressed against hot body.
---
Owen grinded against Spike, groaning at the sensation, and let his head fall to the side, exposing his still healing neck to the vampire. His eyes rolled back as Spike fastened his mouth over the closed wound and, without teeth, sucked. He bucked against Spike, giving an almost inaudible whimpering plea.
Want him. Want him now.
---
Willow moaned as Tosh lay atop her, sucking at her collarbone, and no doubt leaving a mark. Her mark. She bent her leg, grinding the limb against Tosh’s wetness, and basking in the moan she caused to come from the Japanese woman.
Gorgeous, melodic. Just for her.
---
Spike licked the tip of Owen’s leaking cock, one spit moistened finger pushing past his entrance. He lifted Owen’s legs, throwing them over his shoulders and giving himself better access as he added a second and a third. The demon in him roared, hungry for its mate.
Need in him. Now.
---
Tosh’s breath caught in her throat in a soundless cry, her back arching, sharp, when Willow hooked two fingers inside of her. Sweat beaded on her forehead and her legs shook as Willow pressed a kiss to the pulse point on her neck. Trembling fingers made a shaky trail down Willow’s body until they reached the soft mound of red hair. She kissed Willow deeply, pushing a finger inside.
Soft, beautiful. Hers.
---
Owen groaned deep in his throat, his head pressing back into the floor as Spike pushed in. His hands locked around a rolling table, knocking it to the floor when Spike gave a hearty thrust. Cold fingers wrapped around his erection, giving a tug, and he let out a strangled shout. “Oh-”
---
“-God!” Willow gasped, arms shaking dangerously as she laid herself over Tosh. Her head fell forward, arms buckling slightly when the Japanese woman rolled a fingertip just there. “Oh, Goddess-”
---
“-Yes!” Spike grunted as Owen clenched around him. He leaned down, biting into Owen’s still healing mark. He felt Owen return the bite and with one, two, three more hard thrusts, he shouted an animalistic howl against the doctor’s neck.
---
Tosh’s back arched into Willow’s own shaking body as she came, gasping, and toes curled. She collapsed back to the floor as Willow rolled off of her and lay on her side, head comfortable on Tosh’s chest.
---
For close to twenty minutes they lay there, Willow and Tosh in a post-coital cuddle, and Spike and Owen shoulder to shoulder as they lay on their backs, chests heaving. The drug-induced fog faded from their minds as they lay there. Spike and Owen were the first to recover, looking at each other, then at their naked bodies. Feet away from them, Willow and Tosh met each other’s eyes, gasping and stammering as they scrambled for the clothes that Willow had spelled to the other side of the room.
Spike chuckled, looking at his still naked mate-least he was easy on the eyes-and nodding at the blushing girls. “Those cameras of yours reach over here?”
The girls spun, their red faces turning white when they saw the men smirking on the floor. They shrieked, each grabbing the closest thing to them and throwing it.
“Get out!”
Story 3: Damaged Souls - Part 12 >>
TBC
Pairings: Little bit of Jack/Ianto, teeny tiny mention of Ianto/Lisa and Rhys/Gwen, Spike/Owen, and Willow/Tosh. (This chapter)
Word Count: 3,335
Rating: NC-17 (This chapter)
Status: Incomplete
Note: This is the third and final fic of a series I've begun. This story begins shortly after Buffy's Chosen.
Summary: BTVS crossover - When Ianto returns to Cardiff, Jack and the Torchwood team must figure out how to react to the changes in him, as well as how to react to the new friends this unfamiliar Ianto brought with him.
Note: Hey, come on. I know you guys are reading this (or at least I hope you are). Reviews make me happy and make me write faster. You guys don't want me to fall behind in posting do you? Because once I fall behind, I'll never finish this. =P
Previous Stories:
Story One: Moving On
Story Two: While You Were Gone
This Story:
Previous Chapters:
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10
New Chapter:
Jack leaned one shoulder against the glass wall of the conference room overlooking the Hub. His eyes stayed locked on Ianto, watching as the Welshman sat on the couch, chatting with Gwen and Xander. Ianto and his new friends had been hanging around the Hub since Ianto and Willow’s resurrection, and as much as Jack loved having Ianto there with him, it hurt.
Ianto hadn’t spoken to him since he appeared in his bed three days prior, shaking and scared from his resurrection. Ianto had let him hold him that day, let him comfort him, but in the three days since, the younger man hadn’t let Jack within ten feet of him.
It hurt, a harsh proof that Ianto didn’t trust him. And as much as it hurt, Jack understood. He’d left Ianto, abandoned all of them, but of course it would have hit that gorgeous Welshman harder than the rest of the team. He didn’t know what Ianto felt for him then or now. A part of him-the cocky and arrogant part-said that Ianto was in love with him, because, really, who wasn’t? But another part of him-a less confident and more realistic part-asked just how could Ianto love him after he abandoned him to follow what Torchwood was created to catch.
Jack’s eyes softened as he watched Ianto laugh, feet propped up on the table in a way that he never would have done a year ago.
Ianto had changed after he left. He looked happier now. And that time in California had done him good. He was still pale, but not so much that it looked unhealthy.
There was life in his eyes.
Jack wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen Ianto’s eyes shine like they had since their reunion at the Ritz. He’d had that look before, Jack knew, he’d seen those same eyes with that same shine in a picture Ianto carried in his wallet of he and his friends that were killed in Canary Wharf.
Torchwood London had stolen that shine.
No. Yvonne Hartman, the Daleks, and the Cybermen had stolen that shine.
And he hadn’t helped it. He’d let Ianto flirt his way into Torchwood Three with the pterodactyl , tight jeans, and amazing coffee. He’d let Ianto remain after Lisa.
He should have said no when Ianto asked for a job. He should have Retconned Ianto after Lisa, let him live a normal life free of Torchwood.
But he’d been pigheaded, thinking that Retcon was an easy way out and that one day he’d get that blue-eyed Welshman into his bed.
Well, he had gotten that silent watcher into his bed. And onto his desk. And onto Owen’s desk. And onto the roof of the Millennium Center.
Never once had he suggested more until after their first encounter with Abaddon. He’d never thought of it. He was immortal and Ianto wasn’t. He was going to live and Ianto was going to grow old and die.
And then he woke up to the feel of lips on his, lips that weren’t Ianto’s; too small, too moist, to feminine, too Gwen. He’d frozen while he was changing from that gown, realized that Ianto was the one he wanted to see when he woke up. He didn’t want Gwen. He fancied her, but only as a reminder of what he couldn’t have.
He’d wanted Ianto.
He still did.
Ianto didn’t look up to the conference room once. Jack knew Ianto could feel him staring, knew that Jack knew he knew, but he didn’t look up once.
He forced his eyes away from Ianto, instead turning them to the Hub’s other inhabitants.
Gwen sat beside Ianto, tucked under his arm, poking him in the stomach, and prompting a laugh from the Welshman. Xander, who sat across from them, smiled, pointing at another part of Ianto’s body, laughing when Ianto tried to scrunch and protect it from being poked by the small woman. He failed, all of them falling into laughter.
Jack was happy for Gwen, happy to see her smile. He knew how much losing Rhys had to have hurt her, and though her eyes weren’t back to their former glow, and may never be, she was slowly beginning to recover. She’d never see Rhys again, but she had Ianto back and with him, she’d gained more people in her life, more people to make her laugh and try to forget that she was supposed to be walking down the aisle in a few days time. Her dress would gather dust in the closet, but maybe one day she’d be able to take it out and smile, remembering the good memories instead of the tragic end. Jack could see Xander’s gaze keep flickering back to Gwen, a look of understanding on his face that Jack didn’t want someone as young as him to know.
Willow stood beside Tosh’s workstation, eyeing the computers with an awestruck expression that hadn’t left her face once since she got a proper look at it. Tosh sat beside her, casting small glances at the redhead, both of them blushing and turning away when they’d meet each other’s gazes.
Jack smiled fondly, happy for Tosh and the woman he had yet to get to know. They’d make a good couple if and when one of them ever spoke up. A voice whispered in the back of his head, asking if it was worth it, letting Willow, who seemed nice enough, fall for Tosh only to watch her die while she continued to live.
Owen stood down in the med bay, scowling as Spike toyed with some instrument. The Londoner no doubt hated that the bond required he be so close to Spike and the blonde wasn’t making it any easier, constantly touching and smearing fingerprints over anything he could get his hands on. As much as a slob as he could be with everything else, Owen was obsessive about his medical station, keeping it as clean and organized as he could. And Spike was ruining that.
Jack chuckled, in disbelief that a vampire that was two hundred years old could be so childish. As Owen cut too hard into the alien corpse in front of him, Jack shook his head. Watching those two for eternity, should they all stay together, would definitely be a treat.
‘They’. Ianto had eternity now and Jack couldn’t decide if he was happy or sad about that. On one hand, he had eternity with Ianto. But on the other, Ianto was cursed to watch everyone he cared about die and that beautiful shine would die a bit with each death until there was nothing left, and there was no guarantee that Ianto would stay.
He wanted Ianto, wanted Ianto completely. Every smile, every laugh, every witty comment, every scar that Canary Wharf had left behind. He wanted Ianto Jones, body, heart, and soul.
He just didn’t know if he’d ever get it.
---
He cornered Ianto when the Welshman walked into the kitchenette to make coffee, standing in the one exit. “Ianto.”
Ianto didn’t acknowledge him, instead operating the coffee machine that they’d all been convinced was alien before Ianto had joined them. He measured a bigger portion than he used to, now making enough for the entire team plus his new friends. Part of him wanted to ask if he made them coffee back in Sunnydale, but a smarter part of him told him to keep his mouth shut and that if he asked, he’d never get a second (Third? Fourth?) chance.
“Ianto,” he started again, stepping forward and laying a hand on Ianto’s shoulder.
Ianto jerked away from him, turning his head sharply. “Don’t touch me.”
Three words. Well, at least it was better than none.
“Ianto, please. I…we need to talk.”
Ianto turned his back to him, pulling down each person’s specific mugs. They hit the tray harder than necessary. “We have nothing to speak about, Captain.”
“Ianto-”
Ianto spun at him, eyes ablaze. “I am not your employee. I am not your subordinate. I am not your bed buddy. I am not your anything. We have nothing to speak about, Sir. Anything we had to talk about became irrelevant when you left. Just because you’ve decided to return does not mean that we have anything to discuss. I’m here for them, I’m here to keep more innocent people like Rhys from getting killed by things that you don’t know how to fight. You and I have nothing to talk about,” he stopped, eyes saddening as he took a step closer to Jack. The next time he spoke, his voice was softer, sadder. “There is no we. There is no us. You lost that chance when you left. You hurt me and I…I don’t think I can forgive that. I may be able to get past it eventually, but I don’t know if I can forgive you.” He stepped closer, his chest now inches from Jack’s. “This…I don’t know what you were promising in that kiss, but any chance of more,” he paused, kissing Jack once, “Of this, is over.”
Ianto stepped back, turning away and Jack was sure he saw Ianto wipe at his eyes. He picked up the tray, walking past Jack’s frozen figure and out of the kitchenette.
Jack didn’t move, eyes frozen on the spot where Ianto had once stood. Ianto’s taste was on his lips; hazelnut coffee and a hint of the peppermint tea he’d indulge in when he was stressed.
He’d gotten what he wanted, he’d gotten Ianto to speak to him, but he hadn’t wanted that. The devil on his shoulder laughed at him, asking him what the hell had he thought would happen, had he thought Ianto would jump into his arms, screaming I love you from the rooftops?
He hadn’t expected a declaration of love, but he’d hoped for anything other than Ianto saying that they wouldn’t have another chance. His chest hurt as the reality of the situation hit.
He’d really lost Ianto.
He forced himself to turn and face the rest of the Hub, watching as Ianto handed out coffees and smiling as if their talk hadn’t just happened seconds before. He stepped forward with a deep breath, pushing back any emotion that wanted to surface. He had to be the leader and the leader couldn’t cry when he got dumped, not when it was his fault.
That little devil snickered, asking him if it was worth it, if losing Ianto had been worth following the Doctor for answers a part of him always knew.
Now, he wasn’t so sure.
---
Ianto placed the tray containing the last three cups of coffee-and one blood-down beside him as he leaned over the railing overlooking the medical bay. Owen was below, autopsying an alien and growling at Spike as the blonde vampire continued to poke and prod everything he could, the abdomen area of the alien at that very moment. Tosh and Willow stood on the other side of the table, Tosh explaining the alien to an enthralled Willow.
“It’s called a Ren-fu. We ran into one before, just about a week before we met Gwen,” Tosh said before going onto explain the history-that they were aware of-of the species and their first encounter with the creature from a planet over nine hundred light years away in the thirty-second century.
Ianto remembered the last time they met one. Owen had been crabby because Suzie had kicked him out of her bed the night before and came back in even more irritable when he returned, with the corpse and himself covered in a putrid yellow blood. They were grotesque creatures, an ill mixture of what Ianto could only guess as purple, orange, and green. It was tall, over six feet, with horns protruding from its nostrils and blue fins on its neck. Its hands and feet resembled talons, sharp and deadly. No aliens found them attractive, not even their own kind. Its only option when it came to sex was to douse the partner in a shower of pheromone spray. The female would kill the male following the act, having no further use for it, but the male could not kill the female in case she had fallen pregnant.
Owen had drained the spray from the last one and Ianto knew how much it had annoyed Jack-speak of the devil, he just took the place beside him-that Owen had used alien chemicals to get laid.
Ianto shifted his weight to the foot furthest from Jack, clearly uncomfortable as he rolled his shoulders and stared harder at his friends below.
Tosh had taken a break from explaining, her and Willow both giggling as Owen let loose on Spike, shouting at him to leave him “the bloody hell alone”, although it was clearly having no effect on the vampire as he continued to poke at it.
All conversation stopped a second later when Spike poked just under the left fin and a clear liquid sprayed from the sliver between its eyes.
Oh, shit.
The four below stood, eyes shut and wiping the spray liquid from their faces. Ianto looked to Jack, ignoring the amused look on the older man’s face. “Shall I direct them towards the vaults?”
“No time,” Jack replied, not looking at Ianto as he nodded back to the bottom of the med bay. Ianto followed his gaze just in time to see Owen look up at Spike, glaring. Both men paused, staring at each other for a long moment before they launched themselves at each other, falling to the ground, lips against lips with Owen on top of Spike. Willow and Tosh were no different. They dove at each other, hands entangled in each other’s hair as they kissed, Willow sandwiching Tosh between her and the autopsy table.
“I suppose not.” Ianto turned, backing away a step, and stopping when Jack didn’t follow. “I believe we should give them some privacy, Sir.” He walked away after that, this time not checking to see if Jack was behind him.
---
The air shot from Owen’s lungs, Spike’s body doing nothing to break the sudden stop from their fall. He separated from the kiss long enough to suck in another deep breath of air before diving in again, his erection already straining against his jeans.
Need…him…
---
Willow’s hands ran down Tosh’s body, fingers grazing the skin that was just barely peeking out from the back of her shirt. Such soft, beautiful skin. She tastes like cherries.
Want her.
---
Spike bent his leg, flipping them so that he straddled Owen’s waist. He growled, nipping Owen’s earlobe with human teeth and prompting a moan from the Londoner that sent a wave of want straight to his dick. Boy’s moans sounded like a bleeding pornstar.
Want in him now.
---
Tosh gripped Willow’s hips, pulling the redhead closer, but stepping away from the autopsy table. She moved Willow backwards until the witch’s back was pressed against the wall. She lowered herself to her knees, lifting Willow’s shirt, and kissing Willow’s exposed abdomen. Warm, soft.
Want to make her hers.
---
Owen broke away, pulling off his lab coat and shirt. He almost shivered at Spike’s appreciative growl as the vampire pushed him back to the floor, pulling off his own top layers. Pale, chiseled, cold.
He pulled Spike back in for a kiss, fingers unhooking pant buttons.
---
Willow felt her jeans sag around her, the once secure button undone as Tosh pulled them to her ankles and kissed the little heart emblazoned on her panties. Her head fell back, hitting the wall with a soft thud. She didn’t feel it. All she could feel were Tosh’s hands, fingers playing just on the inside of her thigh, and her lips kissing the now wet cotton.
Oh, God.
---
Spike smirked as Owen arched against him, his tongue toying with a nipple. He pulled away, blowing on the moistened skin. Owen’s moan went right through him, the sound sending a jolt straight to his already throbbing cock. He tore off the latex gloves Owen had been wearing for the autopsy, leaving the both of them completely bare.
All his.
---
Tosh trailed kisses up Willow’s body, removing the forest green top as she went. She kissed Willow softly, just between her breasts, feeling the redhead’s racing heart echoing beneath her lips. Her fingers moved behind Willow, unhooking the bra and freeing the fleshy mounds that jumped as Willow struggled for breath.
Cold air hit her as Willow waved a shaking hand and left them devoid of clothes and she pulled Willow onto the floor with her, hot body pressed against hot body.
---
Owen grinded against Spike, groaning at the sensation, and let his head fall to the side, exposing his still healing neck to the vampire. His eyes rolled back as Spike fastened his mouth over the closed wound and, without teeth, sucked. He bucked against Spike, giving an almost inaudible whimpering plea.
Want him. Want him now.
---
Willow moaned as Tosh lay atop her, sucking at her collarbone, and no doubt leaving a mark. Her mark. She bent her leg, grinding the limb against Tosh’s wetness, and basking in the moan she caused to come from the Japanese woman.
Gorgeous, melodic. Just for her.
---
Spike licked the tip of Owen’s leaking cock, one spit moistened finger pushing past his entrance. He lifted Owen’s legs, throwing them over his shoulders and giving himself better access as he added a second and a third. The demon in him roared, hungry for its mate.
Need in him. Now.
---
Tosh’s breath caught in her throat in a soundless cry, her back arching, sharp, when Willow hooked two fingers inside of her. Sweat beaded on her forehead and her legs shook as Willow pressed a kiss to the pulse point on her neck. Trembling fingers made a shaky trail down Willow’s body until they reached the soft mound of red hair. She kissed Willow deeply, pushing a finger inside.
Soft, beautiful. Hers.
---
Owen groaned deep in his throat, his head pressing back into the floor as Spike pushed in. His hands locked around a rolling table, knocking it to the floor when Spike gave a hearty thrust. Cold fingers wrapped around his erection, giving a tug, and he let out a strangled shout. “Oh-”
---
“-God!” Willow gasped, arms shaking dangerously as she laid herself over Tosh. Her head fell forward, arms buckling slightly when the Japanese woman rolled a fingertip just there. “Oh, Goddess-”
---
“-Yes!” Spike grunted as Owen clenched around him. He leaned down, biting into Owen’s still healing mark. He felt Owen return the bite and with one, two, three more hard thrusts, he shouted an animalistic howl against the doctor’s neck.
---
Tosh’s back arched into Willow’s own shaking body as she came, gasping, and toes curled. She collapsed back to the floor as Willow rolled off of her and lay on her side, head comfortable on Tosh’s chest.
---
For close to twenty minutes they lay there, Willow and Tosh in a post-coital cuddle, and Spike and Owen shoulder to shoulder as they lay on their backs, chests heaving. The drug-induced fog faded from their minds as they lay there. Spike and Owen were the first to recover, looking at each other, then at their naked bodies. Feet away from them, Willow and Tosh met each other’s eyes, gasping and stammering as they scrambled for the clothes that Willow had spelled to the other side of the room.
Spike chuckled, looking at his still naked mate-least he was easy on the eyes-and nodding at the blushing girls. “Those cameras of yours reach over here?”
The girls spun, their red faces turning white when they saw the men smirking on the floor. They shrieked, each grabbing the closest thing to them and throwing it.
“Get out!”
Story 3: Damaged Souls - Part 12 >>
TBC