16 – In the Interests of You (and Me)
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W/C: 3306
Warnings/spoilers/content: some rude language, reference to TW3.1 Children of Earth, smexiness [slashy-romance-novel-like-smut]
Summary: Don't you deserve a reward for trying to save the world?
Characters: Ianto, immortal-Jack, OMC
Ianto's New Timeline: December 15-22, 2005 (3rd month)
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HE HADN'T BEEN TROLLING IN AGES. He hadn't had the urge. He scanned the darkened smoky room; his eyes searched for the right combination—dark hair—blue eyes—not too short—not too old. There's one, he thought. The potential turned around and Jack frowned. He wasn't the one, not even close. He craved something, something very specific. He needed to feel… something, a connection perhaps, a touch, a spark or maybe just a warm body. But every potential turned out to be wrong, especially up close.
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He leaned against the sticky bar and nursed his drink. He rarely drank but tonight he'd made an exception. Hunger simmered, his eyes glittered like a starving predator, on the prowl in search of life-saving sustenance moments before his own demise. He surveyed the watering hole and calculated the odds.
It's dangerous at the watering hole. All prey know this, instinctively; their thirst drives them forward and potentially into the claws of death none-the-less. Any vulnerability is exploited by those stronger, fiercer or hungrier.
They were all starving animals here. They were all seeking something, needing something more than they already had and they were all desperate. He was desperately alone. His obsession had gone away, only for a short time he told himself. The absence pained him and left an unfamiliar gaping hole gnawing at his insides.
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"Love the coat." The lissom blonde rumbled in his ear. He'd seen Jack actively scoping out the club and had made his way across the crowded room to get a better look. And hopefully, he thought to get a taste as well.
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Jack turned towards the voice to get a closer look at his admirer. He was slim and tall like a gazelle. His hair was the color of straw and fell stiffly to his shoulders and he was way too young. Jack met his eyes and thanked him for the compliment but he felt no spark, no flare of lust when he surveyed the young man. They stood at the bar and chatted politely while Jack slowly sipped his liquid hell-fire and dreamed of oblivion. The too young—too thin—straw colored—gazelle invited Jack to join him at a more private locale but he declined; he couldn't even pretend. His heart just wasn't in it.
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Normally, he'd slither between the pulsing bodies on the dance floor, enjoying the second-hand lust. Tonight, he steered clear, walked around the edge and made his way above ground, back into the night. It was late when he finally reached the hub but he was desperate so he sent a text message to the one person he wished he was with.
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TWXDW
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TW Ianto's Journal TW Ianto's Journal TW
December 20, 2005 - London
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Got a text message from Jack tonight. Surprising to say the least. He said he missed me – was thinking of me. Not what I expected. Not at all. But I guess I shouldn't be so surprised. After all, he did spend the night, slept in my bed and didn't try a thing. Now that was surprising. I actually considered testing to see if he'd been body-snatched. I really need to talk to Tosh, find out what she said.
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I've only been gone five days. Feels like forever. I hate hotel rooms. Too damn quiet. And the bed's too big. Makes me even lonelier. All I do is toss and turn. And dream. My dreams have been bloody insane. I've dreamt of Jack almost every night. They're vivid, in color and… way too erotic.
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I found what I was looking for today. I've got his name. Now I need to present it to Jack.
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To do: have another shower – damn dreams
Not to do: don't forget about blood types
TW Ianto's Journal TW Ianto's Journal TW
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TWXDW
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I'D BEEN GONE A WEEK, just long enough to sneak around and get into the above top-secret archives so I could find the information I needed. Apparently, it was also long enough for Jack to miss me so much he nearly hugged the breath out of me when he picked me up at the airport.
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"It's good to see you." He spoke through a great big grin.
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"Ahh… you too Jack." I gasped for breath. "Need—to—breathe." I sputtered.
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"Oh, sorry." He chuckled and loosened his grip then gradually put me down.
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I must have rolled my eyes because he snorted.
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"What? I missed you." He said in his defense.
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I smiled so widely my face ought to have cracked. I wanted to say I missed you too and I thought about you every single night and every single time I had a shower… but I didn't. Instead, I said, "I missed you too."
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"Come on… I'll take you out to dinner and you can tell me about your findings." His words tumbled out, full of excitement.
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I was about to protest but my reasons seemed flimsy. I totally wanted to have dinner with him. I wanted to tell him all about what I found. But mostly I just wanted to spend time with him—alone.
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"Did I mention I missed you?" Jack asked seriously.
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"I think you may have." I grinned.
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He grabbed my hand and held it tight swinging our arms back and forth playfully like a skipping rope. "Maybe, I could keep you company again tonight," he suggested tentatively.
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I raised an eyebrow in question.
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"You know…" he said quickly, "I haven't slept that well in… I don't know how long. Years." He was serious. It sounded more like a confession than a flimsy excuse to get me into bed.
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I considered, weighed and then shrugged. "Maybe."
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"Maybe?" He stopped abruptly, still grasping my hand.
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I nodded and repeated my vague undecided non-answer. "Maybe."
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He laughed fully, delightfully and his eyes dazzled. It's a start, he thought.
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TWXDW
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HE TOOK ME TO A LITTLE BISTRO that served a hearty, simple fare and it was exactly what I needed. I was famished; I realized while I read the menu. My stomach growled and reminded me I hadn't eaten on the plane. It was quiet and private too, which was also good.
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I'd carried the hand-written notes on my person, not willing to risk anyone else seeing their contents. I'd uncovered the name and whereabouts of several key personnel involved in the 1965 transaction. The records were sketchy to say the least. Not exactly something you'd want to write a report on. For the most part, those involved just wanted to put the horrendous experience behind them. "But there were two people who were important," I explained. "We need to monitor them carefully. We need to stay ahead of them," I added. Jack nodded for me to go on. "A technician named Mr. Decker and Mr. Frobisher from Home Office."
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"I know Frobisher," he replied.
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"I know you do," I countered.
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"What's he got to do with this?" He'd leaned forward anticipating my answer.
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"I've written up a quick summary. Take a look." I passed him the single page. I'd written a simple summary of my findings. Just a few lines, things we needed to focus on.
Summary of Research Notes:
Alien race known as the 456, named for the wavelength they communicate on. The 456 appeared in 1965, made a secret deal with the British government. They offered a cure to a new strain of the Indonesian flu [predicted death toll: 25 million people] in exchange for 12 children.
- Decker works for John Frobisher
- builds the god-dammed-fucking landing tank to 456 specs
- they can control the air inside the building (alter plans?) and
- they can kill everyone in Thames House (germ warfare)
- need to monitor this frequency (Decker's job)
-need to find this technician. Mr. Decker is trouble (long-term employee)
-need to build a device that sends a destructive signal on the 456 wavelength
Jack read my notes and quickly looked up. Deep worry lines etched his face. "Tell me about this landing tank," he urged.
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Damn, I thought. Of course he'd pick up on that first. "It's a big glass fish tank that's connected to a separate air supply and a bunch of computers." I said vaguely.
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"Why would anyone build them a fish tank?" he wondered. "You don't send out the welcome wagon to the neighborhood thugs." He was confused and he looked at me intently. "They didn't build this thing in 1965," he pointed out.
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"No, they didn't," I agreed. I gave him a steady gaze and folded my hands.
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"But they're going to, aren't they?" He made the leap, like I knew he would.
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I nodded, sighed and rolled my tense shoulders.
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"You know this for a fact?" He prodded insistently.
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I nodded and added, "Frobisher and Decker will, yes."
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"Why would anyone in their right mind do that?" He was disgusted, exasperated and ready to start screaming.
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"Fear of discovery I imagine would be at the top of the government's list. But stupidity and ignorance are probably more apt." The existence of the tank was important and I needed Jack to know about it but I knew sooner or later he'd demand more answers. I could see it in his eyes. The questions were beginning to form.
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"You know I've got to ask." He spoke in a low, steady voice. "Have you seen this tank? Is it already built?" he added quickly.
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Shit. Keep it simple, I thought. "I've seen a tank like this," I admitted with some reluctance. "But I don't think they've built it yet."
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He frowned. My answer didn't clear things up at all. "Where did you see the tank?"
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I winced, the muscles on my face twitched from an invisible slap. I pursed my lips together and tried to come up with an ambiguous yet plausible answer. It took me a few minutes and several deep breaths. He waited. "I have no idea how to explain that to you." I sighed. "I've seen it with my own eyes. That's really all I can say." It would have to be enough because that's all I could give him at this point.
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"Are you psychic? Can you see the future?" he blurted.
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I started. "What?" I shrugged and struggled for composure but lost. "What the hell are you talking about?" I demanded in unmitigated confusion.
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"Well, it would explain how you know stuff," he explained patiently. "You said you only travelled that once with our friend so I doubt you got all this information from time travel…" he trailed off.
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A wide grin curled my mouth. I'd expected a few guesses but not this one. "No. Not psychic." I shook my head. "And you're right. I only travelled that once." I smiled into my coffee cup and my eyes glittered mischievously.
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"So did you check his records? Is that how you know?" he pressed on in all seriousness. He'd obviously given this a lot of thought. Dog with a bone, I reminded myself.
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"No, I didn't snoop in the Doctor's records. Good idea though." I shrugged at his shocked look. "What? It's a great idea. Don't tell me you weren't tempted!" I challenged his innocent look.
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A head tilt and a raised eyebrow told me he had been tempted. "Then how? How can you know what they're going to do?" He responded to my concerned frown. "Don't worry. I believe you. I just… want to know where you get your information." He narrowed his eyes. "Do you have a vortex manipulator?" He asked with some suspicion.
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"No. Of course not," I insisted. "I don't have a wrist-strap-thingy. Nothing like that." I shook my head and waved a hand through the air in exasperation.
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"Does someone else tell you? Is that it? You have a friend with foreknowledge?" he asked in rapid fire.
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I shook my head in denial and looked out the window. I was looking for a way to end this secrecy but I just couldn't see one.
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"If I guessed it, would you tell me if I was right?" he asked finally.
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I considered his question seriously and came to a conclusion rather quickly. I nodded. "You know, I would. If you guessed—exactly right—I'd tell you." I nodded and forced a tight little smile.
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His brows scrunched together in consternation and his mind scrambled for another alternative.
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I scanned the room, making sure we were alone before I spoke in low tones. "But you'll never guess, Jack. It's insane. It's totally impossible to imagine. And if I told you, you'd never believe me."
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"I'll figure it out," he promised. "And you'd be surprised what I'd believe," he added at last.
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WE DROVE BACK TO MY FLAT and once there Jack insisted on carrying my suitcase in for me. He flirted outrageously and with a cheeky grin, he brought the bag into my bedroom. I may have mocked his transparency with one or more brow lifts. "What?" he asked indignantly. "Isn't this where your clothes belong?" He was all innocence.
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"Yes, Jack. My clothes do belong in my bedroom." I sighed and rolled my eyes dramatically. "I'm sure your thoroughness has nothing to do with my bed being here at all."
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He gasped and a poor approximation of horror colored his face. "What? Me? I would never!" he insisted.
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I just shook my head as I wandered out the door.
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He followed speedily snickering behind me. "Just to prove it to you…" he added mischievously, "I'll stay out here, in the living room, far far away from your bed." He dropped down on the sofa, his arm draped over the back, legs spread wide and a thousand megawatt grin lit up his face.
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"Do I need to call Tosh, Jack? Do you need a chaperone?" I taunted dangerously. First, he scowled, then he fluttered his eyelashes at me and finally he stuck out his bottom lip slightly. Oh curses, I thought. Why does he have to be so damn sexy?
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I joined him on the sofa for a drink and a movie. I'd had a long day full of travel and subterfuge; within a half hour, I was leaning heavily against Jack. Ten minutes after that and I was using his lap as a pillow. I just couldn't keep my body upright. I curled up on my side and snuggled into his thighs, trying to get more comfortable. He seemed uneasy and fidgety, unable to sit still.
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"Is this alright, Jack? Do you want me to move?" I asked lazily.
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He looked down at me to respond but what he saw stopped him short, my hair in disarray, eyes heavy-lidded, skin flushed and lips stained with wine. He growled and rolled me onto my back. He leaned down, caught my bottom lip between his teeth. After one quick nip, he sank in, drew me close and we spiraled together into the deep steamy depths of lust and need. My initial reticence slid away quickly and my body woke to the taste of him. Time stood still and I was lost.
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He yanked my shirt over my head and let it fly through the air as he lowered his head, with a hint of teeth, to my neck. I arched my head to the side, urging him on. There was a power building here, grown from need and longing, it sparked and burned wherever he touched.
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Strong, determined hands gripped me and our bodies collided roughly. The surge I felt only made me realize how much I'd missed his touch. We'd been apart for too long. We had something, when we were together, something that couldn't exist otherwise.
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With our bodies melded together, I could feel his emotions if I focussed hard enough and they erupted, poured forth in a tidal wave that engulfed us both. There was lust and need and want. And there was something else entirely. Love, I fancied, it might be love after all.
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I could take it. I could take it all. I'd take anything he'd give me—a handful of silken hair—a ripple of muscle—as I finally dragged off his shirt. I could feel the pounding of his heart and I knew as we fell to the floor we'd both come out on top at the end of this little battle.
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He made me chuckle and then he made me gasp as skin slid against skin, finally barrier free. His eager touch made my blood boil and my skin tingle. And when he wrapped his strong, warm body around me, found and captured my mouth I could taste the torrent of lust and love and longing.
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So intoxicating, so strong, those magnificent pheromones. His body moved under mine then over, so agile and quick and his scent surrounded me. His mouth hummed and his hands swept over me drowning me in sensation. With slick fingers, he teased and tormented until I begged and pleaded for more. My pulse thrummed loudly in my ears as he filled me. I heard him promise that he'd drive me up and over until I broke apart and lost control. He was unrelenting as he rode along with me, up and down. "Oh yes!" He shouted hoarsely. "So hot," he gasped. "So tight," he moaned.
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My body stretched taut as a bow as he begged me to break with him. I opened myself for him as I never had before; I gave him all of me—mind, body and soul. We rose and fell together in a brutal rhythm until our pleasure peaked and we couldn't take another drop. I chanted his name as I fell apart in his arms. We finally broke and when the rush came, it washed us away, leaving our bodies limp and sated.
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Curled against him, warm, naked and replete, it occurred to me that Tosh would surely give us an earful about rushing into a physical relationship. I sighed and mumbled, "Tosh is gonna kill us."
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He groaned and pulled me tighter. "You'll defend me, won't you?" He spoke into my ear, his voice rumbled through me, warm and blissfully relaxed.
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"We'll defend each other, Jack." I still felt a strong emotional connection, felt his emotions running wild. I wondered if he felt it too.
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"Yep," he agreed, a smile in his voice. "We'll take care of each other."
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I WOKE THE NEXT MORNING GROGGY-EYED AND WARM with strong arms wrapped around my body. My head was cradled between his bicep and the crook of his arm. The hand at the other end of my pillow gripped my shoulder lightly. His other arm had snaked over my waist and was pressed flat up against my chest. It was hard to tell where my body ended and his began.
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My back felt like it'd been warmed in an Easy-Bake-Oven over night. His breath was slow and even as it tickled the back of my neck but the chances of him actually being asleep when I wasn't were slim to none. Whether he was awake was debatable but certain parts of his body were definitely awake and ready to… greet the day.
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He must have heard the ticking of my mind because he mumbled "Mm'ning," into the back of my neck. His breath ruffled wisps and left tingles in its wake. He nuzzled into the base of my spine running his nose and lips over a small yet incredibly sensitive patch of skin. A tremble shuttered through my body in response and I sighed without realizing it.
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"Good morning, Jack," I groaned back. I'd inadvertently wiggled and lodged myself even tighter into his spooning form.
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"I missed you," he murmured, "You were gone such a long time."
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It was an eternity, I thought, and you have no idea what I've gone through to get back into your arms. Aloud I said, "It was only a week."
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"Long enough," he insisted and hugged me even tighter.
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I sighed, "Ya, your right. Long enough."
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With his arms wrapped around me, I felt safe and I let my mind wander aimlessly. Even now, after all this time, I thought, his touch, his breath, the stroke of his voice, could melt my insides and set me on fire. He was the one, my body knew it and so did my heart. But the million-dollar question was, was he ready to be my Jack?
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Continued in… 17 – The End is Nigh?