Chapter 2 - Ianto is not amused

"You shoulda told them you were Torchwood," Jack grumbled as he turned the key in the ignition. Ianto refused to look at him. He just sat staring out of the passenger window of the SUV.

"I tried." Ianto shut his eyes as he remembered shouting it out, repeatedly, trying to be heard above the din of the band. The big man pinning him down had just laughed and if anything had put even more pressure on his arm. "It was too loud. They couldn't hear me."

Jack gripped hold of the steering wheel tightly before asking the next question, hoping that he might pry the truth out of Ianto. He was holding back on something and experience told Jack that it wasn't just because he was angry with him.

"What about showing your ID?" Jack found that flashing his Torchwood ID usually did the trick in awkward situations.

"Not so easy with my arm twisted behind me, or indeed with my hands cuffed when I got thrown into the back of a squad car." The heavy sarcasm was enough to make Jack wince.

"Oh."

"'Oh?' That's all you have to say?" Ianto shifted around in his seat to glare at Jack. "You sent me in there - even when I expressed reservations about the wisdom of your orders. Then, as a result of trying to protect a member of the public who I thought was being attacked, I get assaulted and arrested! And all you can say is 'oh'-"

"What? Someone was attacked? There's another weevil back there?" Jack exclaimed, quickly working out the fastest route back to the club and wondering if he could manage a U-turn without hitting the No.6 bendy-bus that was heading towards them in the other lane.

"No!" Ianto clung on tightly to the edge of Jack's seat as the SUV swung out in a wide arc.

"What was it then?" Jack demanded impatiently, swerving back into the lane he'd originally been in and then slamming on the brakes as the lights turned red. He considered it probably wasn't a good idea to flaunt traffic regulations on a night when the police seemed extra keen on locking up Torchwood personnel. He turned to glare at Ianto. "Come on, Ianto, explain yourself- what the hell possessed you to pull out your gun in the middle of a crowded club?

"There was a scream," Ianto admitted quietly as he focused on the traffic lights, willing them to change to green so that Jack would have to return his attention to the road.

"A scream?"

"Yes, well… I thought it was a scream."

"And?" Jack was torn between demanding a full report and actually giving Ianto the time to get the facts out at his own pace. A beeping horn alerted him to the fact that the lights had changed colour and, resisting the urge to floor the accelerator, he drove off slowly. That way he could keep an eye on Ianto who was fiddling awkwardly with his seatbelt, looking as if he wanted to escape from the passenger seat.

"It was the singer… vocalist, whatever… skinny kid, barely out of school… sounded like his vocal cords were being torn out of his throat."

Ianto shrugged and was then painfully aware of the increased blood flow to his face; he could feel the heat as the flush of embarrassment spread across his cheeks and over his ears. Even after he'd been thrown to the ground, the screaming had continued and it was only as he was dragged out of the bar that he'd caught sight of the kid leaping around on stage, so out of his head that he was oblivious to the drama on the dance floor.

Jack tried hard to suppress a laugh and failed. The chuckle escaped, even though he was biting his lip, and then he guffawed loudly, shaking his head as he clutched the steering wheel and wrenched it quickly to the right to avoid going up on the kerb.

"I'm sorry – but you have to admit it – it's funny." A sidelong glance revealed that Ianto wasn't in the least amused. Even though Jack couldn't see Ianto's face, as he'd turned to look out of the side window, he could see that the tips of his ears were a delicate shade of pink, which he thought was adorable, but had the good sense not to say so out loud.

"Nope, not even a little bit."

Ianto bashed his forehead against the reinforced glass and contemplated just how much it would take to knock himself out. The thought of losing consciousness appealed to him as being preferable to the prospect of facing yet another onslaught of ridicule for what had been a genuine mistake. He was sure Jack's reactions would have been exactly the same in the circumstances. Although he'd have probably ended up shooting someone, perhaps that bouncer, thought Ianto vindictively.

"One thing puzzles me - why didn't the cops let you go once you got to the station?" Jack leaned over to tap Ianto on the knee to make sure he had his attention. "Why insist on calling me in?"

"Oooh, let's think – maybe it has something to do with the fact that Cardiff Police hate Torchwood with a vengeance," Ianto offered, as if it was something entirely novel to Jack. Then he sighed as he broached a subject he'd rather have avoided. "Gwen's mate – Andy – said that they're operating under strict procedural rules, everything by the book, until they get permanent replacements for the men they lost earlier this year. Something to do with internal enquiries and interim management."

Ianto didn't want to spell it out to Jack that there were elements of the police force in Cardiff that held Torchwood directly responsible for the deaths of their most senior and respected officers. To say that relationships had been strained between Torchwood and the police since Jack's brother, Gray, had unleashed his campaign of terror, would be like saying that there was friendly rivalry between the Welsh and English rugby teams. Ianto knew he'd promised not to keep secrets from Jack, but he had no qualms about keeping Jack in the dark about some of the less than pleasant encounters he'd had with some of Cardiff's finest in the weeks following Gray's quest for revenge.

Jack went quiet as he considered Ianto's observations as well as what he'd left unsaid. It was going to take a while to re-establish good working relationships with the Cardiff police, but co-operation between them and the emergency services was essential to the containment of any threat that came through the Rift. He wondered if there was any chance of getting Gwen to work on her police liaison role once more. Jack's thoughts were interrupted by Ianto coughing to get his attention.

"You can drop me off there, at the bus stop. I'll cut through the alleyway to my street." Ianto was pointing at a bus shelter in a lay by. He'd had enough for one night and the adrenaline that had earlier fuelled his anger was waning, leaving him tired and despondent. This really hadn't been the sort of 'weevil-hunting' evening he'd been anticipating. He really shouldn't trust that grin, he'd been mesmerised by the unnaturally white teeth.

"I'm not taking you home and if I was, I'd take you to the door – what do you take me for?" Jack sighed, knowing he'd screwed up badly if Ianto was asking to be dropped off at the roadside rather than spend a moment longer in his company. "We're going back to the Hub."

"Why? You're not expecting me to write up a report on this now are you?" Ianto stared at Jack in disbelief; he wasn't looking forward to producing a formal record of the evening's events and had been hoping that Jack's customary relaxed attitude to paperwork would let him off the hook for the time being. "Can't it wait until the morning?"

"No, of course that can wait. However you do need to have someone see to those cuts on your face – seriously, Ianto, they could get infected." Jack frowned as he caught another glimpse of the nasty looking grazes revealed by headlights from passing traffic.

"I've got antiseptic wipes and ointment at home. I'll clean them up there. No way am I facing Owen like this." Ianto looked down at his stained clothes, noting with dismay that there were tears in his trousers which were beyond mending.

"I was going to send him home and look after you myself, if you'd let me. I owe you that much at least. Please?" Jack knew he was halfway to begging, but he wanted to do something to make his peace with Ianto before the night was through.

"I seem to remember putting in a request for a private room and grapes…" Ianto pouted as he caught Jack's eye. He could see that he was trying to make amends and if he was honest with himself, he'd rather make up with Jack than spend the night alone. His experiences at the club and the police station had left a nasty taste in his mouth. He needed something to take his mind off them – and Jack Harkness was the best distraction he'd ever known.

"Compromise? My room – to yourself if you don't want my company."

Jack quickly reached out to take hold of Ianto's hand and was gratified to find his grip returned. He knew full well that Ianto's dignity took a lot longer to heal once wounded than any physical injuries he sustained and it had taken a hell of a battering. Jack took a risk and lifted Ianto's hand to his lips to press a kiss to the bruised knuckles.

"And the grapes?"

"Whatever you want." Jack smiled, knowing he'd been forgiven, yet again.