Characters: Jack, Ianto.
Summary: Seemingly by chance, Jack meets Ianto Jones, a young man who apparently has one goal in life: to join Torchwood Three.
Word Count: 1206
Written For: Prompt 025 – One-Track Mind at fandomweekly.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters. They belong to the BBC.
A/N: Dialogue borrowed from the episode.
The first time the ran into each other could have been nothing more than random chance. Bute Park was extensive, lots of people used it both day and night, for varying reasons; family picnics, walking their dogs, jogging, lover’s trysts, even certain criminal activities.
Jack had been attempting to deal with a rambunctious Weevil; his hero, lunging to the rescue and whacking the Weevil with a big stick, might merely have been out for a walk or, going by the way he was dressed, looking for company. Jack would be the last person to judge a man for that; it would be the height of hypocrisy. He’d certainly liked what he was seeing, although he’d managed to keep his mind mostly on the business at hand. Weevils could be unpredictable, and even though he’d managed to subdue and sedate it, getting distracted would have been a bad idea. He still needed to get it back to the Hub and ensconced in a cell before it woke up and made another attempt at ripping his throat out.
So he’d been polite, thanked his unexpected helper, asked his name for future reference, and introduced himself, because why not? Jones, Ianto Jones had been quite forward, something Jack liked in a man, but he’d wanted to keep the stranger at arm’s length; best not have to Retcon him, which would become necessary if Jones got a good look at the rapidly healing bite on Jack’s neck.
Then the guy went and proved he already knew more than he ought to.
“Looked like a Weevil to me.”
That was reason enough for Jack to get defensive. This chance encounter was starting to appear less than random; he’d have to do some checking up on Jones, but in the meantime…
“No idea what you’re talking about. Thanks for the assistance.”
“Anytime. By the way, love the coat.”
Flirting? Now what was that all about?
Jack got an inkling the next morning.
When he stepped out of the tourist office onto Mermaid Quay, there was Ianto Jones, waiting for him, with a steaming mug of coffee in his hands. No takeaway container, this, but a genuine heavy china mug, and the aroma hanging on the air was that of freshly brewed ground coffee, not instant. It made Jack’s mouth water, as did the sight of Jones himself; tight jeans, open-necked shirt revealing just a hint of chest hair, the eye drawn in that direction by a necklace at Ianto’s throat. He looked… lickable.
Jack knew he should probably refuse, but he couldn’t resist just one little sip; it tasted easily as good as it smelled, maybe even better. “Wow!” A single sip was all he allowed himself, however. He knew who this guy was now, having done his research the night before; a former junior researcher at Torchwood’s London branch, one of a mere handful who’d survived the massacre at Canary Wharf, which put him totally off limits in Jack’s considered opinion. Nothing good had ever come out of Torchwood One.
The young man looked Jack square in the eye. “I want to work for you.”
“Sorry. No vacancies.” Not for the delectable Mr Jones, not now and not ever.
Jones wasn’t giving up though; for whatever reason he was determined, insistent, almost pleading.
“Trial period, three months. Three weeks. Three days! I’ll work for nothing.”
“You’re not my responsibility.” Was that a bit harsh after what Jones must have been through? Well, tough; the people at One made their bed…
“Same time tomorrow then. I really like that coat.”
Flattery would get Ianto Jones precisely nowhere; it was almost a shame, but Jack strode away without a backward glance.
Night fell, and Jack was returning to the Hub when a figure stepped out in front of the SUV, forcing him to slam on the brakes, screeching to a halt just in time to avoid hitting… Ianto Jones. He should’ve known. Didn’t the man ever give up? How many times did Jack have to say ‘no’ to him before he got the message? When it came to gaining employment with Torchwood Three, he was single-minded, bordering on obsessive.
“Here we go again,” Jack muttered to himself, climbing out of the vehicle into the relentless drizzle. This time Jones was dressed in a smart suit and looking quite dapper. He brushed up well.
“Okay, this has to stop.”
Back and forth they went, Jack laying down the law, young mister Jones trying and failing to get a word in edgewise, until Jack, after threatening to drive right over his stalker, turned to get back in the SUV.
“You’re not gonna help me catch this pterodactyl then?”
If there was any phrase that was guaranteed to stop Jack in his tracks that had to be it. A pterodactyl in Cardiff? A genuine prehistoric flying lizard? This he absolutely had to see… Damn the man; somehow he knew exactly which of Jack’s buttons to push. Surrendering to the inevitable, at least for the moment, Jack allowed himself to be directed to a rundown warehouse.
And it was exactly as Ianto had described; not something even Torchwood saw every day, or ever come to that. As far as Jack knew, this was a first. He wasn’t exactly equipped for catching dinosaurs, but that wasn’t about to stop him. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and besides, leaving it roaming Cardiff would be cruel, not to mention irresponsible.
Plus, it was fun, the easy banter flying between himself and Ianto, the adrenaline rush of doing something insanely dangerous, trying to soothe the agitated creature…
Ianto seemed a little miffed that Jack was perfectly willing to let the pterodactyl join Torchwood, but not him, but… “We need a guard dog,” Jack explained.
Jones was full of surprises, not least that he knew the pterodactyl liked dark chocolate. It was doubtful he’d discovered that little nugget of information on google, which made Jack wonder exactly how Jones had figured it out. Smart kid, brains and cunning as well as looks and that delicious Welsh accent.
Taking the world’s first flight by pterodactyl wasn’t something Jack had planned, but he went with the flow, succeeded in sedating the creature in mid-air, then fell into Ianto’s arms, which really wasn’t a bad turn of events. Ianto was warm, solid, leanly muscular, and very pleasant to roll around on the ground with. That didn’t last for long though. When their giddy laughter trailed off, Jones pushed himself to his feet, leaving Jack oddly bereft on the gritty warehouse floor.
“I should go.”
Jack would have liked to say, “No, stay,” but instead he went with, “Report for work first thing tomorrow. Like the suit by the way.” Okay, he’d been determined not to give in to temptation, but Jones had earned his chance, and anyway, for all kinds of reasons it might be better to have him where Jack could keep a close eye on him.
It was odd though; for someone who’d been so single-mindedly determined to gain employment with Torchwood Three, Ianto Jones didn’t seem as happy to have succeeded as Jack would have expected.
Ah well, that was a mystery for him to unravel another day.