*Dum Dum Dum*
By popular demand (and because I was threatened with something worse than a siege *wink wink*), I now present you the third installment in the "Hours" series (which will probably be the last one too). Now, for this story to work out, we need a time line: so let's pretend (for the sake of this now very AU fic) that this takes place after the team meets Martha Jones in the second season, but without the whole dead/undead Owen debacle (I generally like my characters to be alive).
Warnings: I am generally a person with a well developed sense of humour, so I like writing funny stuff ("10 hours" was an act of pure inspiration). Therefore, after passing through the angst, comes the fluff (and worse, the funny fluff, in this case).
Anyway, this third story will have two parts... I have no idea what the second part is going to look like yet, but I'll get there eventually XD So, Janto, Towen and the all the usual stuff. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: My shirt doesn't say RTD or BBC, so I don't own Torchwood. Or Facebook for that matter!
When Martha Jones came to visit, almost 720 hours had passed since Ianto left Cardiff, thus marking Jack's trial period as halfway done. The young doctor came down in the Welsh city on a mission from UNIT and ended up prolonging her visit in order to have a little fun, away from work. Of course, she had taken that decision before learning that Ianto Jones was away with business in Glasgow and before being informed by a smirking Owen Harper that the Captain was apparently "retired from any conspicuous off-duty activity". It seemed that something had happened to Jack since she had last seen him, because his behaviour was indeed suspicious: he had only kissed her cheek upon her arrival, kept flirting to a minimum and his hands to himself… a very odd behaviour indeed!
Still, none of those bizarre happenings had stopped her from dragging the entire Torchwood Three team (minus one archivist, obviously) down to the best-known pub in town and getting them as drunk as possible. Therefore, hour 720 of the trial period found Jack Harkness and his team nursing shots or pints at a large wooden table, laughing at bad jokes and in the process of getting intoxicated. As expected, it wasn't before long that the team started teasing its leader.
"Are you sure you're supposed to be here?" Owen asked, a smirk firmly planted on his face… apparently smirking had become a continuous habit of his lately. "Aren't you supposed to have a curfew or something? What if Ianto calls and you're not there, like the well-trained puppy you've become, to answer the phone?"
"Because that would be cheating!" Jack argued and raised an unsteady finger to point at him over the table.
"Apparently Ianto thinks that if he hides away from the world, the whole deal is off." Tosh explained on an amused, but perfectly awake tone after downing her fifth shot of tequila. Owen glanced at her and suppressed a shiver: damn, that woman could drink and still be able to compose logarithms. Yet, instead of freaking out and seeking a pretty face in the crowd that filled the pub (being a Friday night and all), he just stretched over his seat and hers, placing a thin arm on the back of her chair, subtly shuffling closer.
"I can't believe you're officially domesticated! Where is the Doctor? He'd probably die and regenerate from laughter!" Martha shouted and started giggling, between shots number four and five. She sat at Jack's right, while Gwen sat at his left, silently gazing out the window. Ever once in a while, she would glance at the blue-eyed man next to her, an unreadable expression of her face. She still remembered that rainy night when her most important question had almost been answered… what if…
"Not officially! Well, not yet anyway! I have to pass this test… then six more months… and then it'll be as official as possible. I'll make sure of that personally!" he slurred, downed another pint and winked at the female doctor, who started giggling again.
"We should get a double wedding. Or a triple one!" she suddenly exploded and Owen groaned, causing Tosh to almost choke on her sixth shot. "Me and Tom, Gwen and Rhys and you and Ianto! That would be perfect!"
"Yeah, I'm sure your parents, Tom's, Gwen's and Rhys' would love to see you all get married in the same ceremony along with a gay couple. Besides, that would be a little bit difficult for Jack and Ianto." Tosh smiled apologetically.
"Who cares? My mom already knows all about Jack and she would be thrilled. And I know Tom and he's just not the type of man who has been raised by homophobes. I just know it! Besides, Jack and Ianto had been together for some times now and I'm sure Gwen and Rhys both know and have no problem with it! Isn't that right Gwen?" she leaned over the table and asked the other woman with a dazzling smile. For a moment, the Welshwoman was at a loss of words.
"I'm afraid Rhys' mother is a bit old-fashioned." She somehow managed to bail herself out of the entire business. "She doesn't even agree with me and Rhys living together before getting married and all. Sorry."
"Too bad… I really wanted to see Jack in a white dress." Martha smiled evilly as a pair of mischievous blue eyes turned towards her.
"How do you know it won't be Ianto wearing the dress?"
"Simple. I can't picture you in a three-piece suit that would look divine on him. And I'm sure you can't either." The female doctor baited him with a raised eyebrow.
"He may look divine in a three-piece suit, but he looks even better without it." The Captain replied and winked at the now reddening woman, torn between gasping for air and laughing. On the other side of the table, Owen, who had been in the process of taking a mouthful of his larger during Jack's answer, was busy wiping his face, clothes, hands and table space, after nearly having choked on his drink. Next to him, Tosh had almost collapsed on the floor in a fit of giggles. Apparently all that alcohol was finally taking its toll.
"Damn! But at least now Gwen and I know why we're probably the only females in your entourage you've never slept with!" Martha dropped the bomb after managing to catch her breath. A sudden wave of silence washed over the area. Jack's smile faded as he stared down at his way-too-empty pint, Gwen downed an entire shot breathlessly, while Tosh and Owen stared almost in shock at the entire scene. "Well?"
"Yeah, he's gay." The Welshwoman replied and sent a fake smile behind the Captain's back, at their companion.
"Um, yet another woman in his entourage he's never slept with, present." Tosh timidly raised an arm, trying and apparently managing to dissipate some of the sudden tension.
"I think she meant female and interested." Owen spoke, half serious, half jokingly.
"Oh." Tosh seemed put off by the whole exchange, so she quietly drank another shot and almost cuddled into Owen's side. "How come you're not drinking?" she raised her head and looked directly at the doctor.
"I beg to differ." He spoke and raised his empty pint.
"That's only your first."
"I drove down here and I hate leaving my car anywhere overnight."
"But I though Gwen was the designated driver. Her being a former cop and all…"
"Fine, I'm staying sober because I need to make sure you won't do something stupid." He grumbled, a little bit annoyed by the impromptu interrogation.
"Come on Owen, it's not like we're some college kids drinking into oblivion after school's out." She teased. A moment later, a waitress showed up with her arms full of freshly filled pints and glasses.
"Let's get the party started!" Jack shouted as stood up to collect most of the items from the woman's hands, while Martha cheered loudly.
"I stand corrected." She dropped her shoulders and blushed prettily under Owen's serious gaze. The rest of the evening passed in a blur of innuendo, snarky comments and more teasing, with the team finally departing sometimes around hour 724.
"You know, Ianto's so right! I hate him for it, but he's got a point." Jack slurred all the way down from the SUV's parking space to the Hub below Roald Dahl Plass. He and Martha were carefully and wobbly walking down the stairs, in a mess of clothes and limbs, so that you couldn't tell if she was leaning on him or vice versa. "If I were to hide myself from society just so I wouldn't be forced to be tempted to flirt… that would be cheating indeed. And, as much as I want to sometimes, not very often, but every now and then… I can't cheat." He raised a finger as if to make his point, doing his best to sound serious and sober. Unfortunately for him, the levels of alcohol in his blood and Martha's spoke of an entirely different story.
"I have no idea what you're talking about." She giggled as they finally reached the couch placed behind a couple of workstations and collapsed on it.
"Good. Now get into the man-hole!" Jack suddenly raises his voice.
"Get into the what?"
"The room below my office. Not many people get to see it, but since you have no idea what I'm talking about, I'm letting you sleep in there tonight. I'll stay here." He sent another wink her way and collapsed sideways and face-up, eyes closed and mind already gone into oblivion.
"Aw, my knight in shinning WWII RAF coat." She mocked him quietly, a sly smile blooming on her lips. "A gentleman can never kiss and tell… but a lady can."
Looking back a day and several strong cups of coffee later, Martha thought that had probably been one of the worst ideas she'd ever had and she couldn't tell for her life exactly what had passed through her head at the moment. She hadn't thought, she had just done it. And since Jack had been dead to the world at the time (figuratively speaking, of course), he hadn't been able to stop her from kneeling on the couch, smooching him and taking several photos, which she somehow managed to upload on her Facebook account with practiced (albeit drunken) ease.
Therefore, when the next morning came… so did panic.
An annoying noise woke Tosh from an incredibly vivid wet dream which featured surprise, surprise, the sarcastic Dr. Harper. She twisted in the sheets, and only extended a hand out into the cold, quickly snatching the phone buzzing on her night-stand and answering it.
"What?" her voice croaked unattractively, almost scaring even herself. She was definitely never drinking with Martha Jones, ever again!
"Tosh? Why are you answering Owen's phone? And why didn't you answer yours when I called a minute ago?" The hyperventilating voice on the other side of the line would have woken her up had she been dead, not just hung over. With wide eyes and held breath, Toshiko Sato finally took in her surroundings: the view of a large, scarcely furbished bedroom with huge windows over-looking the city made it obvious that she hadn't reached her own home the previous night, while the sudden realisation of the fact that an arm was holding onto her bedding-covered waist (her very naked waist) almost made her jump up and scream (whether in horror or glee, she did not know just yet). "Never mind! I'm going to Glasgow. Martha did something quite stupid last night and I think Ianto's going to kill me and I can't lose him. So I'll need you to come down and review the CCTV from this morning and tell me what you find out. I'm sorry I can't do it myself, but I'm really in a hurry. Ianto's not answering his phone and I think I'm done for. Thanks Tosh. Bye!" the person on the other side hung up, leaving her even more confused and shocked.
Slowly, she turned around in the warm cocoon made of what must have been all the possible bed linens in the flat, only to meet the sight of an apparently sleeping Owen Harper. He was lying in the middle of his own bed, entirely naked apart from a pair of boxers, face down in the pillow next to hers, his left arm somehow trying to gather all of her (plus bedding) into his body. The whole scene looked ridiculous, much to Toshiko's further mortification. Suddenly, an eye opened, and the doctor smirked.
"You know, this habit of yours of hogging all the blankets at the edge of a king-sized bed will have to stop. Therefore, I suggest an agreement." Tosh stared with wide dark eyes at him, blood pouring into her cheeks. Before he could continue though, a sudden impulse took over her, making a lifetime of inhibitions and insecurities go down the drain. She slowly raised the covers on his side. For a moment he just stared back at her, before turning his cocky smirk into a full smile, mischievous and loving at the same time, shuffling inside the cocoon and dragging her back into his arms (now without the extra weight), in the middle of the bed, sharing his pillow, as well as his naked skin. "So what did the wanker want?"
"I have no idea."
"Tosh." He opened his eyes again and peered through the morning light at a pair of black orbs which were close to panic. He tightened his arms around her, enjoying her curves, warmth and just the simple fact that she existed. "Focus."
"He thinks he did something stupid."
"Again? God, he should be in the Guinness Book or something." Owen muttered.
"And he said something about checking the CCTV records for this morning." She continued breathlessly, watching him move closer and closer, until she couldn't watch him at all, her mouth being invaded and her eyes closed, and all that. "Tell me you're not a dream." She quietly begged the moment her mouth was free again.
"Don't I feel real enough?"
"I'm not sure."
"Hmm, we should work on that, then."
"What about Jack?"
"The road to Glasgow is long enough." He assured her, before stating his "realness" through non-verbal, but awfully convincing means.
When Jack had embarked on his way to Scotland, he was a desperate man. He had forgotten most of the previous night (and if Martha's incriminating photos were anywhere near real, then he didn't even want to imagine what could've happened), his boyfriend wasn't picking up his phone, and, approximately one hour into his driving, he discovered he had left without any socks at all and had unconsciously forgotten the coat at the Hub. Still, as bad luck never came alone, the worst of it all made itself noticed when he found himself at the end of a huge line of cars… just standing… Apparently that Saturday was the sunniest and warmest one in the past decade, and all Welshmen, women and children had suddenly got an itch about visiting Nessie. Therefore, the usual eight-hour drive to Glasgow, became a ten-hour one… and of course, when Jack finally pulled over in front of the hotel Ianto had his room at, he was not only desperate, but also dead-tired. On the bright side of things though, the smooch with Martha had apparently only been a smooch, according to Tosh and the CCTV cameras.
Somehow, during the ten hours spent in the car, Jack had managed to switch from calm to hyperventilating about five times (one of those times almost ending up with heart-attack as well) and now, after yet another hour of surfing through Glasgow's streets in search of the bloody hotel or screaming into his phone at Archie (the man was apparently very amused at the entire situation for some reason and just had to refused to give him Ianto's room number), he was finally there. After a few threats and some swearing, eleven hours after departing from Cardiff, Jack Harkness finally parked the car in front of the right hotel and practically ran into the building, up the stairs, in search for the correct room. Once in front of it, he braced himself for the worst and started pounding into the door mercilessly. Some two minutes later, just as the Captain got ready to tear down the door, under the now anxious stares of several guests and hotel employees, noises were heard from the other side and the door was opened widely.
"What? Jack? What are you doing here?" an obviously straight-out-of-bed Ianto Jones blinked at the man… who, much to the present company's surprise, instantly dropped to his knees.
"I didn't mean it! I was drunk (and yes, I should have known better, but I hadn't seen her for quite some time)…"
"Seen who?"
"And it didn't mean anything! I swear! I wasn't even conscious! You wouldn't blame me for something that was done to me and not by me, would you?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Because I love you Ianto Jones and I would never EVER do anything to jeopardise our relationship. Well, except for that really stupid thing I almost did last month, but my eyes got open then and I wouldn't repeat the episode for anything in the Universe! And I know exactly how many incredible corrupting things are out there, trust me!" he was now a babbling nervous wreck and before saying another word, Ianto stopped him, grabbed one of his arms and pulled inside the room without a single word, carefully closing and locking the door behind them.
"What did you do?" he finally asked, after managing to sober himself up and Jack remembered a fated night, just 30 days earlier, with a shiver.
"I got kissed by Martha and she snapped a couple of shots and uploaded them on her Facebook account. But they're gone now, she's very sorry and I'm even more sorry and I've got evidence that I was dead to the world when she did all that and Tosh is more than willing to support me on this one and I didn't break my word. So don't end this yet! At least give me a chance before kicking my arse out of here!" he begged, puppy eyes and everything. And when Ianto just stared at him confused, he knew that maybe things hadn't taken the turn for the worse… yet.
"So, let me get this straight, you got out with the team last night and Martha…"
"Just like you said I should, because not facing a temptation means that you're too weak to resist it and all that."
"Got knocked out."
"Yeah."
"And kissed by Martha?"
"Yeah." His shoulders slumped.
"Who then took photos and put them on the web."
"Yeah." His voice turned almost inaudible.
"And you drove down here just to tell me that, without your coat and socks?" Ianto raised an eyebrow and uselessly tried to hide away a smile.
"You weren't answering your phone. And Archie said something about not working week-ends and I thought you had seen the pictures and were incredibly mad at me and…" he stopped in mid-phrase as he saw his beloved smile widely and also blushing for some reason.
"And you came just to make sure that I wasn't angry."
"I was worried." He replied almost childlike and dropped his gaze to the floor.
"For your information I didn't even see the photos. And me not answering the phone is purely unintentional, trust me." The Welshman slowly moved through the room until he was standing right in front of Jack.
"Oh."
"Yeah. Archie decided to disappear yesterday. I thought the wanker forgot it was Friday and went fishing at Loch Lomond, apparently a favourite spot of his. But, it turned out it was a work-related trip. Unfortunately, I learned that after a little run-down with Lommie, the erm, local "mascot". Apparently almost every Loch in Scotland, and even some in Ireland, have their own "monster", no matter the width or depth. Bloody thing threw me in the water, a shallow area to be honest, but still came out very wet. I was going to write you an email when I woke up to let you know, but seeing that you're here already…" he grinned and took another step, lifting his arms and wrapping them around Jack's shoulders.
"Oh."
"Yeah… to let me know about a silly thing and beg for forgiveness."
"Well…"
"Jack, you know me. I wouldn't have had a fit before learning all the versions of the truth and analysing all facts. I know Martha, I know you and I know you wouldn't do stupid things… again." He spoke with a smile.
"Thanks. I, ugh, should go. It's a long drive back to Wales and I forgot my socks and my coat and all that…" Jack returning to babbling and even blushed.
"Jack."
"Yeah." He answered and finally looked up, making eye-contact.
"You don't need your coat or your socks. Well, not for what I have in mind."
"Oh, and what is that?" courage suddenly returned into the surprisingly insecure Captain, as a flirtatious grin bloomed on his face.
"Guess." Ianto answered and drew him into a heated kiss. Several minutes later, just as they were both about to pass out from oxygen deprivation, they drew apart… barely.
"I though "abstinence" was supposed to be the key word these two months." Jack whispered huskily, eyes never leaving his beloved's.
"Well consider this a time-out." Ianto grinned, let go of the Captain and nudged him backwards, making him fall on a large and quite comfortable bed… not that he was going to have any time to actually noticed that.
Do excuse any mistakes (typos and otherwise) I might have missed.
Now, since you gone and read it all, do leave a comment for the nice author. Thanks for your time!