Rating: NC-17 (very light NC-17)
Summary: Following the fall of Torchwood One, Jack Harkness went to ask Torchwood Three for a job. He didn’t expect to fall a little bit in love with its director, the practical and ever-calm Ianto Jones. He also probably didn’t expect that Ianto Jones would end up holding the answers to his most precious secret.
Disclaimer: TW & Co. does not belong to me.
The Stars Might Stick You Where You Stand
Ianto is wrestling with a Weevil who is rather intent on his neck, having lost his grip on his gun when a second one had come charging out of nowhere, and he’s just about to have his neck chewed out when all of a sudden there’s a distinctly human battle-cry, and then a heavy body lands on top of the Weevil and the two roll away, leaving Ianto breathless.
There’s a man in a navy blue greatcoat wrestling the Weevil, quite well. He appears to be bulkier than Ianto, and good at hand-to-hand combat.
Ianto retrieves his gun as the man lets out a yell and tries to jerk away, and loses the advantage. Ianto then walks around so that he’s got a good angle, aims the gun, and shoots the Weevil in the head.
“Nice,” says the man, teeth flashing white in the dark.
“The typical response is ‘oh God, help me, the teeth,” Ianto replies. He doesn’t put the gun away.
The man gets to his feet quickly, in the sort of way that you do when you’re too pumped up on adrenaline to feel the pain yet, and holds out a hand. “Cap’n Jack Harkness. You’ll find I’m not your typical person.”
Ianto shakes the hand, eyes straying to Captain Harkness’ shoulder.
“Atypical in that you call yourself ‘Captain’ when the ranking on your coat is actually that of a Group Captain?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
Captain Harkness flashes him a megawatt grin. “‘Captain’ sounds so much cooler, doesn’t it?”
“Infinitely,” Ianto says flatly.
Captain Harkness laughs.
“It was nice to meet you, Captain Harkness,” Ianto says with his usual politeness. “I appreciate your help, but I’ll carry on from here.”
“You don’t want a hand with these bodies?” Captain Harkness asks, indicating the two dead Weevils on the grass.
“I’ll manage,” Ianto replies.
When he gets back from lugging the first dead Weevil to the SUV, Captain Harkness has gone.
The entire drive back to the Hub, Ianto ponders Captain Jack Harkness. Everything is cleared up when he runs a search for the man in his database.
Torchwood One field agent—five years—former RAF—parents in America—born in Cardiff—younger brother Gray—disappeared at age eight—
Ianto frowns as the name rings a bell. Moments later he keys into his own private database, does a search, and then everything makes sense.
Captain Jack Harkness strolls into the tourist office the next day, bemusedly fingers the HELP YOURSELF! sign taped to the rack of brochures, glances at the enormous map of Cardiff on the wall with little flags pinned to popular locations, and then looks at the camera and waves cheerily.
Following this, he sits down and waits.
Ianto sighs, pushes himself out of his chair, and goes up to find out what he wants.
“Whoa,” Captain Harkness says, when Ianto emerges. “I did not get to fully appreciate you in a suit last night. Tell me you dress like this every day.”
“Occasionally I wear a waistcoat,” Ianto replies. “I hope the image isn’t too much for you.”
Captain Harkness’ beaming face takes on a distinctly leer-like quality. “Not at all.”
“Can I help you, Captain Harkness?” Ianto asks.
“Call me Jack,” Captain Harkness says.
“Can I help you, Jack?”
Jack wiggles his eyebrows. “I certainly hope so.”
Jack loses the leer and in its place is a wry, slightly tired smile. He leans forward, bracing his hands on the table, and only a hint of his previous joviality remains on his face. The transformation is somewhat startling.
“Let’s cut to the chase,” he tells Ianto. “We both know that you’ve run your searches on me and you could probably tell me everything from who was on my lunchbox when I was eight to where I was when I got my first blowjob. You know I’m from Torchwood One, and you know that I’ve got an excellent record as a field agent. You probably already know that I’m going to ask you to hire me—am I right?”
Jack grins. “I thought so. Even over at One, we knew about you. People said Yvonne would have shut you down years ago, if she wasn’t dead terrified that you’d retaliate by taking over the world in twelve hours flat.”
“Jack, while I appreciate the attempts at flattery, this is not at all my definition of ‘cutting to the chase’,” Ianto says, raising his eyebrows.
He doesn’t know if he wants to hire Jack. He doesn’t know why Jack wants to be hired.
“Direct,” Jack says, grinning. “I like that in a man.”
Ianto gives him a flat look.
“I have a truckload of artifacts scavenged from the wreckage of Torchwood One,” Jack informs him. “Hire me, and they’re yours.”
Ianto allows Jack to show him the sampling of artifacts that he’s brought with him, nodding and hmm-ing along as Jack, showmanship clearly his element, describes and gestures with enthusiasm. It becomes obvious that Jack’s standard gimmick is to impress and overwhelm people, and then be the one to catch them, thus inciting trust and wonder.
Ianto is not impressed. He is not overwhelmed.
He does not comment when Jack shows him a ‘bomb-neutralizer’ that is actually an Ulluri water bottle, or a ‘vaporizer’ that is actually a mucus-clearer. He allows Jack to finish with a flourish and a cocksure look on his face, lets the silence hang for a moment, and then speaks.
“You still haven’t told me why you want to work here.”
Jack blinks, thrown for only the briefest of seconds, and then he shrugs and adopts a wry look. “What else am I going to do with my life?” Then another grin flashes across his face, quick as lightning. “And it’s not everyone who gets to work under a boss as cute as you.”
Jack isn’t telling him the truth. However, Ianto thinks he already knows the truth.
“Give me a few days to consider it and speak with my team,” he replies. “I’ll give you a decision by Friday.”
“Great!” he says happily, practically cartoon-like in his excitement. Before Ianto’s even registered that it’s happening, Jack’s leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his lips. “I’ll see you on Friday!”
Ianto stands frozen to the spot as Jack goes jauntily on his way out of the tourist office, and is just about to reach up and touch his fingers to his lips when he catches himself. He frowns, straightens a stack of brochures, then goes back down to the Hub.
Ianto asks his team.
Owen says, “The temp who came and helped out when Suzie broke her leg, she mentioned a Jack Harkness once. Says he sleeps with anything. Better castrate him before you hire him.”
“I’d fuck him,” Suzie says, taking a bite of her sticky bun and nodding at the photo of Jack she’s pulled up on her screen. “Plus, he looks the rugby type. Good for going on Weevil calls.”
Tosh claims to not mind in front of the others, but later in Ianto’s office, haltingly questions the wisdom of bring in someone from Torchwood One.
“You’re hired,” Ianto tells Jack, Friday morning.
Jack kisses Ianto full on the lips. Ianto steps back, carefully unaffected, and informs Jack that kissing is not an approved method of communication at Torchwood Three, and that if he would like to express his gratitude, a nice bag of coffee beans would suffice.