Title: By The Pricking: The Comfort Of Old Friends
Author: CJ aka WritinginCT
Fandom: Torchwood (mentions of Stargate SG-1)
Pairing: Jack Harkness/OFC (past), Jack/Ianto
Rating: FR18
Warnings: Vampirism, arcane
Categories: Friendship, Romance, H/C
Disclaimer: I don't own the recognizable characters I'm just inspired by them. Hopefully they've had fun playing in my sandbox.
A/N: This story is set as an interlude in the middle of my Stargate SG-1 Story "By The Pricking Of My Thumbs". I realize that the two timelines do not mesh between the two shows (ie BTPOMT is set SG-1 season 4, this story is set during Torchwood mid season 2) but I think it works okay if you aren't beholden to meshing real time with season time.
Summary: Interlude companion piece my "By The Pricking Of My Thumbs". After Hecate's one night with Daniel she travels to Cardiff to visit an old friend.
Status: WIP
As Jack stood on the thin precipice looking over the city the hairs on his neck suddenly started prickling in a familiar way. He looked around but didn't see anyone. He headed back to the Hub, looking around the entire way but not seeing anyone out of place, or anything unusual. But the feeling didn't go away.
He situated himself at his desk, listening to the friendly bantering going on out in the main room. He just couldn't concentrate, couldn't settle himself, something was still teasing his senses. He went and stood in the doorway looking out at his team. Owen and Tosh were working on a piece of hardware from the backlog stores. Gwen was trolling through police reports from the greater Cardiff area, looking for anything that might need Torchwood's expertise. Jack's eyes fell to Ianto working at another terminal, entering requisitions or reports or something in his efficient way. Jack allowed himself a moment to linger on Ianto. Watching Ianto unaware was a guilty little pleasure of Jack's. But even watching his lover's strong hands moving across the keyboard and letting his mind wander to when those hands had last moved across him did not settle Jack's mind. Something was off. Something big.
Jack went back to his desk, stretching as he went. A moment later the Hub reverberated with a sad, mournful cry from the pterodactyl. Jack was running out of his office just as Ianto called his name, "Jack. Look at this." He pointed to the security monitor. There was a woman, down in the cells, standing in front of the weevil's cells with her hand pressed to the glass. "She wasn't there a minute ago, Jack. I swear."
It only took a second for Jack to recognize her, and to relax. And it only took another second for his brain to register how he was leaning over Ianto's shoulder, and that scent that his senses simply registered as "Ianto" was washing over him and having the same effect on his body as it always did.
He said close to Ianto's ear knowing it would be a tease, "It's okay. She's a friend. I'll handle this." Then he stood and squeezed Ianto's shoulder before heading to the cells.
She was watching the weevil try to nuzzle her hand through the glass when the door opened and she lifted her eyes to see Jack in the reflection. She said softly, "You should either kill her or let her go. Keeping her here like this is cruel."
"It really is creepy how much they like you."
"We're both creatures of the night. And we learned to live together a long, long time ago."
"Yeah." he said quietly, hating to acknowledge that part of her, and asked, "Why are you here, Countess? It's been a while."
She dropped her hand from the glass and forced a chuckle. She turned to face him, and saw the humor in his eyes, "No one except you has called me that in half a century."
He had to work to keep the smile on his face. Something was wrong with her, terribly wrong. She was normally pale, with beautiful alabaster skin, but tonight she was so pale she was almost translucent. Her mane of black curls hung limply, normally it seemed almost alive, going in a thousand directions, and making any man in her vicinity itch to wrap his hands in it. Her eyes were what startled him the most. Normally her green cat-like eyes were full of life and humor, and sexual invitation, but today they looked, well, old. He had a rough idea about how long she had been walking the Earth and this was the first time he could see all of the thousands of her years in her eyes. She looked old, and tired. And it scared him.
He knew she wouldn't just tell him what was wrong, they had to play their game. Wrapping themselves in memory of happy times long past, they would fence with words and weave sexual innuendo into every fragment.
"You'll always be the Countess to me."
She gave him a wane smile, "And you will always be my dashing pilot."
There was none of her usual warmth or teasing in that statement and he gave up the act and just held his arms out, "Come here."
She willingly stepped into his embrace and just let him fold himself around her. She had her hand pressed between them, against his heart, its steady pulse calming and reassuring to her. Finally she said softly, "I'm tired, Jack. So tired."
He didn't hesitate, he reached down and scooped her up and as he carried her towards the door he said gently, "So rest. You're safe here. I'll look after you."
As he walked through the Hub carrying her, the rest of the team simply stared. Jack didn't say anything, he just laid her down gently on the couch and sat on the edge of it stroking her hair, she was unconscious. He really was at a loss to know what to do to help her. He knew what she was, or at least what he understood her to be, but his understanding of her abilities and biology were lacking. A moment later he heard footsteps behind him that he recognized as Ianto and he turned to see him holding out a blanket.
He took it and said gratefully, "Thanks." He tucked it around her and when he went to tuck her arm underneath it he gasped, on her wrist was an open, oozing bite mark, self-inflicted from the look of it. Jack didn't understand, she could heal something like that in an instant. He quickly wrapped his handkerchief around it and asked Ianto to get Owen.
His eyes welled of their own accord and whispered hoarsely, "Hecate, don't you give up on me. Whatever it is, I will fix it. But you've got to tell me what it is first. You fight this. You hear me? You fight. You don't give up."
Owen arrived a moment later and knelt down to examine her. He put the stethoscope to his ears automatically, and his expression turned to shock, "Jack, she has no heartbeat."
Jack nodded, "Yeah, I know. Don't worry about that, it's her arm I'm concerned with, she should be able to heal that, but either didn't or can't for some reason."
Owen gently removed the handkerchief and looked at the bite. It was oozing blood so dark and thick it looked like black tar. He deftly cleaned it and applied a bandage, hoping it would stave off the bleeding.
Jack knew that the condition of that murky blood oozing out of her meant that she had not fed in a very long time, normally her blood was as red and vivid as any human's. He asked Owen, "Do we have any healthy blood on hand?"
"Healthy blood? Why? Are you thinking she needs a transfusion? I'll have to type and cross her blood to find a match, then I suppose I can ring the blood bank at the hospital and see what I can do. But honestly, if she doesn't have a heartbeat, it's all moot."
Jack looked at her, and it was killing him that he had to let her secret out, it wasn't his to share. But his heart was telling him she was dying, and if that meant his team needed to know about her to save her, he would do it. "No. Not a transfusion. She needs to feed."
"Feed?" "Feed?" came the simultaneous shocked responses from Ianto and Owen.
Jack sighed, "Yes. She needs blood to live."
Owen shook his head, "Are you saying she's a vampire?"
Jack hated labels of any sort, most of the time they grossly fell short of even remotely being correct. "No. I'm just saying that she needs to feed when she wakes up. And she needs fresh, healthy blood for it."
Owen wasn't exactly buying it but muttered as he stood to go, "Right then. Not a vampire. Just feeds on blood. Okay. I'll just go check what exactly we've got on hand that'll work for her."
Jack could almost hear the questions whizzing around Ianto's mind, and it didn't come as a surprise when he asked, "Who is she, Jack?"
Jack stroked her hair and smiled gently, "An old friend, Ianto, a very old friend."
tbc...
