Characters: Jack, Ianto, Gwen, Rhys, Owen, Others.
Summary: Ianto shows another side to his personality and Jack kind of likes it.
Word Count: 500
Content Notes: None necessary.
Written For: Prompt 84: Fearsome at anythingdrabble.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
Jack had to force himself to stand his ground when Ianto re-entered the main warehouse, even though every nerve in his body was signalling he should beat a hasty retreat. Ianto Jones, Torchwood’s normally mild-mannered archivist and General Support Officer, was a fearsome sight as he crossed the bloodstained expanse of concrete floor, a volcano seeming on the verge of erupting given the slightest provocation.
“Everything alright? Did you get them?” Jack demanded, trying not to sound nervous. It wouldn’t be good if Dale and his brother had managed to make their escape, but he was quickly reassured on that score by Ianto’s curt nod.
“It’s done; those two won’t be going anywhere until we’re ready to deal with them. How’re things here?” Even Ianto’s usually smooth as silk Welsh vowels had a razor sharp edge to them right now, and an audible growl backing them up. His stun gun was still in evidence too, clutched in a white-knuckle grip as he stalked towards Jack, eyes flicking around the warehouse as if searching for anyone else who might cause trouble. Scary as it was to see Ianto looking like a prowling predator, it was also incredibly hot. “Anyone hurt other than Rhys?”
Jack dragged his attention away from fantasies of being dominated by a hot Welshman and back to the current situation.
“We’re all fine, but the space whale… Owen had to put it out of its misery before it brought this whole place down around our ears with its thrashing.” That admission brought a lump to Jack’s throat; the innocent, peaceful creature had been turned into a fearsome monster by the weeks of suffering it had endured. If there’d been any way to save its life he would have tried, but that would have meant prolonging its agony. Hard as it was to accept, killing it had been the kindest course of action.
“Rhys is stable for transportation,” Owen reported.
“Good. Take him and Gwen back to the Hub; the rest of us will deal with things here.”
“What are you going to do with them?” Gwen wanted to know.
Jack stared at her; Dale, his brother, and their cohorts butchered a sentient alien for profit, Dale shot Rhys, would’ve killed Ianto if he hadn’t run out of bullets, and yet Gwen was concerned for the bad guys’ welfare? Sometimes Jack wondered whose side she was on.
“Relax, I’m not about to kill them. They’ll be Retconned and dumped somewhere; it’s a better fate than they deserve, but I’m no murderer.”
Not today, at least.
“We’ll have to empty the truck of meat and lock Dale and his pals in the back while we finish up in here,” Ianto said, making an abrupt switch from avenging hero to cleanup mode and tucking his stun gun away.
“If you’re usin’ the lorry, how’re we getting back?” Owen asked.
“Use Dale’s car; he won’t mind.” Ianto tossed Owen the keys.
Jack nodded. “Alright, let’s get started. There’s a lot to do.”