Dragon Age: Torchwood Episode Two "Pointy-Eared Street Punks"
Chapter 4.2: How to Handle a Gun
CONTENT:
Rating: Teen
Flavor: smexy
Language: very mild
Violence: gunfire (on inanimate objects)
Nudity: none
Sex: Jack can't control his wandering hands (m/m); snogging/kissing (m/m)
Other: none
Gratuitous Jack Deaths: 0/0
Author's Note:
This is a shameless ripoff of a scene from Torchwood, because Zevran woke me up at three freaking o'clock in the morning, begging me to write the scene where Jack teaches him how to handle a gu- um, how to shoo- um... the proper way to use firearms. That's what I meant. And he would NOT shut up, despite me yelling at him to let me SLEEP if he ever wanted it done at all!
Did you remember when I told you not to go to the end chapter when you get a new update notice? Next Tuesday I will post the rest of the pieces of this sequence.
How to Handle a Gun
===#===
If the two elves were going to become full-fledged Torchwood operatives, they would need training in firearms. Especially since they were from a time and place where such things never existed. Jack took them into the basement shooting range. Unlike his former students, the two didn't even have references to movie and TV information about guns, so he had to remember to explain everything, including how dangerous and loud guns were, what a 'safety' was, and that 'bullets' were not round things one shot out of slings. Well, they were, but these were modern bullets. "This is a gun - an automatic - and this is a clip." He slapped the clip into the gun butt.
The two elves - Zevran the blond and Bannon the brunette - watched keenly, and imitated him.
"Right, the bullets face forward... Good!" Then Jack handed each a pair of shooting goggles and hearing protectors. He donned his and waited a moment as the elves grimaced and tried to adjust the thick earpieces. "Sorry," he said, "they're not designed to accommodate pointy ears."
"Yeah," Bannon muttered. "Shems and your short, round ears; we know all about you."
"Mm," Zevran agreed distractedly, but he wasn't looking at Jack's ears.
Jack followed his gaze downward. Oh, so that's how it was! The Captain snickered. "Riiiight."
Gear in place, he had them stand on the firing line. Bannon on the far left, then Zevran, and Jack remained near the loading table. There was an assortment of different handguns, both automatic and revolver, in many different sizes. Torchwood didn't have regulation-issue sidearms, so the team had to be versatile in a wide variety.
"All right," Jack said, the microphone carrying his voice at conversation level to the headsets. "The targets are down there." He pointed down the shooting alley which was set up with a jumble of old crates and boxes and paper targets. Ianto had made up some pseudo-weevil images from clip-art, slapped some target bulls eyes on them, and then had sheets run off at the local copy shop. "Take your shooting stance; side out."
Jack turned to his left, but the elves turned right. He looked at them in perplexity a moment, as they looked questioningly back to him. "Oh! Okay, that's good for bow and arrow, or rifle, but the gun is in our right hand, so right side out." They switched. "Safeties off..." Yes, they'd learned that all right.
Jack moved closer behind Zevran, and put his left hand on the elf's waist. Just so the self-professed assassin wouldn't startle as Jack sidled up and pressed against his back. The elf was very short, even shorter than Gwen; his buttocks nestled comfortably under Jack's hips, pressing against his thighs. He really oughtn't, but he couldn't resist nudging his knee between Zevran's legs. "Wide stance...," he said, and felt his body temperature rise a notch as the elf complied. Hell, any second now, his pheromone production was going to kick in. Concentrate!
"Arm locked straight," he instructed. "Direct line from shoulder to wrist." With a gentle touch, he guided Zevran's arm up, letting his fingertips glide along the skin on the underside of the elf's bicep. God, he had such smooth skin! "Line up the sights."
"Sights?" Zevran asked.
"There's a bump on the end of the barrel," Jack said, pointing. "And a notch on the back. When those two line up on the target, then you're aimed properly. No, no," he said as Zevran raised the gun higher. "Don't compensate for gravity; this isn't an arrow. Just shoot straight."
Jack impulsively moved his hand to draw Zevran's hair back from his neck. Just in case it was perhaps getting in his way. The Captain leaned down, catching a faint hint of the elf's spicy scent. He also caught Bannon looking at them over his shoulder. The elf's eyes were narrowed, and Jack was willing to bet his ears were laid back under the protectors.
Jack suppressed a wicked grin. He really couldn't help himself. They're not fae, the non-reptile portion of his brain told him coldly. You can't blame this on them.
Ah, shut it! He rested his right hand on Zevran's hip. To help keep his stance steady. Still bent low so his breath caressed the elf's neck, he murmured, "Now take a breath. Hold..." Of it's own volition, his left hand roamed down over the elf's hip to the top of his thigh. "Exhale slowly... and as you do..." His fingers followed the instructions as he spoke them. "Gently... squeeze..."
Both Jack and Zevran twitched simultaneously as Bannon's gun barked a retort. But Zevran hadn't fired. "Zevran," Jack said, putting his left hand back on the elf's waist, in safer territory. "Squeeze... the trigger."
"Oh!"
The thunderclap of the shot sent a jolt through both their bodies. Jack eased up a bit and looked down the alley at the targets. Both elves had completely missed the bulls eyes. But apparently, that hadn't been what they'd been shooting at. Both cartoon weevils now sported a bullet hole where the left eyes had been. "That's... impressive."
"Is this piece supposed to fall off the gun?" Bannon crouched and picked up a small cylinder of brass.
"Oh, yes," Jack said. "That's the spent bullet casing. Those eject out. Try a few more."
The elves shot out the weevils' other eye, and the center of the bulls eye target. Damn. "That's amazing. You've never handled a gun before?"
"Elves have keen eyesight and dexterity," Zevran said, lining up another shot. "We are naturally very good shooters."
"Mm," Jack agreed as another loud report made him and Zevran twitch again.
"This is easy," Bannon said. He raised his gun and fired off six shots in a row. They tore a neat 2-inch diameter hole directly in the weevil's groin.
Jack took his hands off Zevran.
"Hmph," the blond elf said. "Shall we compete for points?"
"All right, I'm game!"
From there on out, the orderly lessons devolved into a rapid fire competition. Jack turned on the moving target array and proclaimed that the losers had to kiss the winner. And then he promptly found out how ego-deflating it was to go up against a pair of quick, sharp-eyed elves. What they lacked in experience and practice, they made up for, in spades, with pure natural talent.
In the end, Bannon won. "Hah! Thief wins again!" Apparently, this was not uncommon. Zevran just grumbled.
"Safeties on!" Jack reminded them. He pulled off his goggles and ear protectors and set them on the table with his handgun. Then he leaned back against it, watching the two elves kiss. Well, there was nothing wrong with watching, now was there? He was their safety instructor. He had to watch their li- er- hands, so they didn't accidentally shoot anything off. They seemed eerily adept at embracing while holding weapons.
They finally broke, slowly unwrapping their arms from each other. They came to the table to relinquish their gear. Jack showed them how to unload the guns. But before they turned away, Jack said, "You know, Bannon; I lost, too. Don't you want your kiss?"
"Hell no."
Jack sighed. Well, it was worth a shot.
"You can kiss me," Zevran teased.
"All right." And before he could escape, Jack had his lips locked on the elf's mouth. Wait, the safeties were on and the guns were unloaded, right? Bannon couldn't kill him - not permanently - but getting shot in the nards wasn't fun for anyone.
But Bannon didn't shoot him, or hit him, or anything for that matter. And Zevran didn't pull away. In fact, the elf cupped a hand behind Jack's neck and kissed him back. His fingers were strong; they stroked the neck muscles with firm pressure.
Jack put his hands on Zevran's shoulders and kissed harder, turning his head and pressing down to coax the elf's jaws open. Jack flicked his tongue into Zevran's mouth, tasting that faint spicy flavor. Zevran slid his tongue under Jack's and curled the tip, stroking the tender, wet underside. As Jack withdrew, Zevran bit his lower lip, hard. More of a nip, really, just a quick pinch. Not enough to draw blood, but a clear signal this exchange was over.
Jack leaned back, rubbing his tingling lip with the back of one finger. Oh yes, his pheromones were going into overdrive. Zevran's pupils were dilated. He seemed able to shake it off after a second or two.
Bannon said, "Do you leave these things just lying all over the floor?" as if nothing untoward had happened. He rolled some shell casings away with his foot.
"Ianto will sweep those up later," Jack said. Again, as if nothing untoward had happened. It was just a kiss, after all. "Let's see what the pizza man brought for dinner." He gestured for the elves to go ahead of him up the stairs. After all, there was also nothing wrong with looking at mighty fine elven butts. Jeans definitely suited them.
===X===
