This is just my version of Ianto's perspective on the first time that he and Jack met. I wanted to try my hand at writing it, and here's the result. I hope you enjoy it!
Disclaimer: I am neither Russell T. Davis nor John Barrowman nor Gareth David-Lloyd. I just want to play.
Ianto Jones didn't like to use the term "stalker," especially not when it was applied to himself. He preferred "concerned member of the public," or if push came to shove, "interested perpetual bystander." "Stalker" seemed to imply a number of things that he didn't want to think about. So he didn't.
Of course, his role as a concerned member of the public in this situation had involved him watching the cleverly hidden (read: not) doorway of Torchwood Three until the imposing American had emerged and run off down the street away from him, obviously in pursuit of something. And, as an interested perpetual bystander, Ianto had taken off after him.
It wasn't his fault, he reasoned as he jogged. When Lisa's condition had proven to be too much for him to handle on his own, he'd thought on it and come to the conclusion that the only logical place for her to be would be Torchwood. They'd have the equipment to stabilize her and (hope of all hopes) to cure her. Of course, since Torchwood One was all but destroyed, he turned his thoughts to the nearest logical target.
And it hadn't taken much to uncover the facts about Torchwood Cardiff. The leader—one Jack Harkness—apparently wasn't one for subtlety. There was information about them all over the internet. The heads of Torchwood London would never have stood for such blatant flamboyancy, but Ianto knew all too well that Cardiff was quite different from London. It appeared that the differences in the two cities had been mimicked in their alien-fighting organizations.
One interesting bit of information he'd picked up over the internet was Harkness's apparent willingness to shag anything that moved. He remembered groaning in exasperation over the news. It couldn't be that easy.
So. Seduce his way into Torchwood. The thought had made him feel a bit dirty at first, but then he'd taken another look at Lisa and realized that, no matter what, he had to try. And besides—he wasn't about to shag the man. He was just going to smile and laugh and bat his eyes. If it came down to it, he wasn't too proud to giggle so long has he could enjoy a manly pint and a rugby match afterwards.
He heard the grunts and the growls before he saw their source, but when he cleared the small stand of trees between him and the so-called "Captain," what he did see was enough to make his heart stop. Harkness was engaged in what appeared to be the dirtiest wrestling match of a century with what could only be a Weevil. Ianto took a moment to gather his wits about him. It had been a long while since he'd had to deal with monsters and beasties. Biting his lip, he picked up a hefty branch and headed towards the struggling pair. With all his strength, he brought the wood crashing down onto the monster's back once…twice…then once to the head…
By that time, he was pretty sure that he had the thing's attention. He became positive when it turned on him, and Ianto felt the iron alien claws digging into his shoulders. Shit. He forgot about the stick in his hand and turned all his energy towards making sure the Weevil didn't tear out his jugular.
Saved. Harkness dove at the thing and pinned it to the ground, spraying in the face with a sort of sedative and pulling a black bag over its head. With a small sigh of relief, Ianto threw the stick away.
The man was climbing to his feet, grunting in pain, and Ianto got a good look at him for the first time in person. What he saw made him realize that grainy internet pictures rarely do justice to a truly chiseled jaw and startling blue eyes. He felt his heart skip a beat, and he turned away so that he wouldn't have to look at him. "Thanks," he muttered.
"No, thank you." The man's voice was as straightforward and larger-than-life as Harkness himself. Ianto leaned against the tree, feeling shaky and out of breath. It's because you just wrestled a Weevil, he thought. The Weevil. Just the Weevil.
Of course, the Weevil was, at that point, sedated and stretched out on the ground. The only potential threat that it posed was that it had the ability to trip him up if he forgot about it and walked forward. The American had an intense, piercing gaze fixed on him, and it was a bit more difficult now to breathe than it had been before.
"And…you are?" Harkness prompted. Ianto took a moment to compose himself. It was now or never.
"Jones. Ianto Jones," he said, trying his hardest to disguise an inward grimace at the distinctly Bond-sian line. A small smile twisted the other man's lips.
"Nice to meet you, Jones Ianto Jones," he said, reaching forward and shaking Ianto's hand. The American's fingers were warm and dry and strong, and Ianto's slightly overactive imagination kicked into hyper-speed. "I'm Captain Jack Harkness."
Again, Ianto found himself compelled to look away. Of course, the only other thing to look at in his field of vision was the sedated Weevil, but he stared down at it anyway, because it was better than mentally cheating on Lisa any more than he already had. "Lucky escape," he commented, for lack of anything else to say.
"I had it under control," Harkness replied. Ianto raised an eyebrow, though the cocky attitude was nothing less than what he would have expected of a man like him.
"You think so?" he asked. The man smiled again, though this time it was a bit more dangerous. He kept going, plastering a bit of a cocky smile on his own face. "Looked pretty vicious."
The man kept smiling, and Ianto squinted at him. He could have sworn—the Weevil had gone for the American's throat, and he was fairly sure that it had succeeded in at least tearing the skin. "You're—" he said, reaching out. Harkness flinched away, and Ianto saw that his skin was as whole and as blemish-free as it could possibly be. He blinked at the older man, trying to keep the cocky smile on his face as he continued. "You were bleeding."
"Had worse from shaving." Damn the man! Ianto had no idea why or how he insisted upon making eye contact the way he did, but every time—every damn time—he met Harkness's eyes, it was increasingly difficult to break away. He looked back down at the Weevil on the ground.
"Looked like a Weevil to me."
"I have no idea what you're talking about." Harkness's voice was low and slightly amused. Ianto fixed him with "Oh, come off it" look, hoping that if he just called the man's bluff then he'd be offered a job on the spot. He was tired of playing the knowledgeable eye-candy. But Harkness remained firm, and though the look on his face showed that he was perfectly well aware of Ianto's accuracy, he turned to go. "I'll take it from here," he said. Ianto watched in concerned astonishment as the American reached down and hoisted the alien up onto his shoulder.
Shit. He cursed again as the older man drew closer until they were practically nose-to-nose. "Thanks for the assistance," Harkness said, and Ianto felt chills down his spine. It would have been a lie to say that he was not turned on, but he did his best to maintain a poker-face.
"Anytime," he said as the American walked away. But Ianto Jones was not one to let another get the last quip in a situation, especially not a situation as desperate as this. Seduce him. Seduce him. How am I supposed to do that? It occurred to Ianto that perhaps Harkness was a bit more experienced in the ways of seduction than he was. He couldn't just let him get away, though. With that resolution in mind, Ianto shouted the first thing that popped into his head at the man's retreating back. "By the way—" Harkness paused. He was listening. Ianto grinned. "Love the coat."
So, did you like it? Review! And when you've done reviewing (warning: shameless stumping ahead) why not read some of my other stories?
