Title: Something Unpredictable (Chapter 2/?)
Rating/Warnings: PG, mpreg
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Description: Jack finds himself with a 51st century predicament in a 21st century world.
Words: 2,780
A/N: I've got nothing. I hope I got the medical stuff spot on. Thank you again for your interest. I hope you like this chapter!
Chapter Two
The clock ticked past 7:10 and Jack watched as each of the team members gathered up their inventory and left the Hub. Ianto had eyed him wearily, but silently left to his flat without saying much. Jack was acting bizarre enough, as it was. If Ianto needed to play twenty questions, he would save it for another day.
Owen, meanwhile, danced around the notion with the others that he was packing up to leave, but the moment he saw Jack spying on Ianto driving from the garage, he slipped his white coat back on and turned to his boss. Aside from the soft purr of Myfanwy's slumber, the hub was completely silent.
Like earlier in the day, Jack returned to the gallery and leaned against the edge of the bars. Owen had his back turned, but he turned around and fixed the gloves to his hand. A tray behind him sat a plastic cup and a needle.
"There's several ways we can do this, Jack. You can piss in a cup and get a 'yes' or 'no' answer before tonight. Or we can jab a needle up your forearm and run a qualitative test, which will do the same, but hurt a hell of a lot more. If I've got your blood, I can even go so far to tell you how far along you are. That is if you're…"
Jack interrupted him, his arms stretched out against the railing. "How long does the last part take to process here?"
"Here?" The doctor's brow furrowed. Jack was a bit tense, if not testy.
"Here, Owen, Earth. Now. Last time, they did a microscopic ultrasound and had my results in naught-point-three seconds. How long will it take here?"
"Oh," Owen swallowed, "Two days, approximately. Look, if you want my opinion, Jack, no to the first, yes to the second. I'll have to poke a few holes in you anyway, if your suspicions are correct."
Jack rolled his eyes but nodded his head. It was funny that a man that had been shot over 1,500 times was dizzy over the thought of a little needle prick… in his arm. "Okay, go on then, doctor."
Owen began setting up the needle from over Jack's shoulder, still tucked in its encasing. A couple minutes later, Owen stared between the needle and Jack. Finally, the younger man spoke up. "So are you going to work with me here? I can't jab it through cloth."
"Oh, right," Jack bumbled as he shrugged his braces, pulled out his navy blue shirt from his trousers, and unbuttoned it quickly. He rolled his shoulders back and let out a manly huff before pressing his lips together. The room still smelled of death, and it was more than just Owen. Combined with the needle about to enter his skin and the ongoing assault on his senses of antiseptic and formaldehyde, Jack was several minutes away from turning blanch white.
Owen cleaned down Jack's arm and stretched it out before tying the tourniquet to raise the vein. "Don't puke on me, Harkness, or I swear I'll send you to Sainsburys where you can buy seven bloody EPT tests without my help."
Jack nodded his head and attempted to relax. Although Owen was a prat at times, he was only helping him. "Just jab it in there when you're ready."
"I bet I'm not the first person you've said that to before."
At that point, Jack was ready to tar and feather Owen, but he held in his inner griping and attempted to remain calm, cool, and relaxed. Owen took that cue to fulfill the duty he had set out to do, and Jack went to a happy place in his mind; namely, a blue police box with a strange but brilliant, pinstriped man on the inside. A man who could make you tea and save the universe all under the ten minutes. A man who, at the very least, could explain even this. If only Jack had his guidance all the time. It was selfish to hope for it. He'd gotten his answers, the ones he waited one hundred years for, and he'd promised his team he wouldn't abandon them like that ever again. Especially not now; no, he couldn't.
"Is it over?" Jack asked suddenly. Owen had inserted the needle and taken at least two vials of blood. When Jack opened his eyes, Owen stood a few feet away at one of his side trays, preparing Jack's first samples.
"The worst part is. Do you feel any woozier?"
"Can't be any worse than I already am," Jack mumbled to himself, though audibly. Owen watched as Jack poked his finger over the red dot in his forearm.
"When was your last missed period, Jack?" Owen asked seriously, no form of mockery in his voice. All the same, Jack glared and moved to pull his shirt back on. Owen took that as a hint and turned back to test the vials of blood, continuing to speak over his work. "In the future, was it… rare for men to go full-term?"
Jack fixed the last button slowly as he shook his head solemnly. "No, at least not by the time I signed up for it. Plenty of men had already done it. In fact, there were support groups and everything. But it was still a relatively new science, so the agency kept close watch, especially on dosages, medications. Things like that."
"But I thought you said…"
"I did." Jack was firm, though his hands scattered down his chest, barely tracing over his stomach before he lifted his braces back up. "Accidents happen. Happened then, could happen now."
"What sort of medications were these?" If anything, Jack should have been asking Owen these questions, but he understood. Owen had a medical degree from a 21st century hospital. He only knew medicine from his own era, and he couldn't fault him for it. This thought had already crossed Jack's mind.
"Start me off on regular prenatal vitamins if you have to. My body will do the rest."
Owen gave him the old suspicious fish eye.
"Look, I had enough energy to kill off Abaddon, wander around the hub three days later, and then survive the end of the world all over again. If I had the ability my first time around at this, I would have. Okay, Owen? Owen…"
The test results stared back up at the young medic, and Owen opened his mouth to say something relevant but locked his jaw. His eyes were shot, and damn, he knew stranger things had happened, even in Torchwood, but if the medical society could get their hands on Jack Harkness, a seemingly American, full blooded male. Plain as day pregnant, right before his eyes. Damn it, Owen believed it; the symptoms, the assuredness, the blood and the numbers in front of him.
Jack looked back at Owen carefully and walked a few steps closer. "What do the results say?"
Owen opened his mouth to speak again, but he was positively speechless. Jack didn't need Owen's response to know, the younger man wore it on his face. When Owen could finally articulate all of thirty seconds later, he looked back at Jack. "Says you've got a few long months ahead of you."
Kavin beat back another tumbler, his expression contorted with the rising levels of intoxication. He had already burned a crevice wider than the San Andreas Fault within the center of his throat. Additionally, he hadn't seen Jack in a week days, not since… well. To that, he took another swig.
He slapped another credit down on to the bar, to which the barkeep raised his eyebrows and walked a few steps back toward him. "I think you ought to run along where you came from, boy."
"I'm not a boy," he growled, slapping another credit on top of the other. The barkeep took the hint, took his tumbler, and filled it back up. Once it had returned into Kavin's grasp, he sipped it slowly at first, lost in his thoughts. Emptiness was a cloud in his eye; whatever form of optimism he felt even a week ago was extinguished.
"You said it was impossible," Owen said quietly.
"It is. It wasn't a complete science. My partner had to take vitamins."
"Oh. Vitamins?" Owen's hand rested against one of his side trays, though he'd learned the hard way not to rest his entire weight against them. Owen was sure he didn't particularly want to know, but Jack yammered on.
"The usual suspects," Jack offered with a sigh, but Owen looked at him cluelessly. "You know, arginine, coenzyme…"
"Bugger, you think Ianto takes Viagra? No wonder the bastard knocked you up. I bet he's pounding the puppy as we speak."
Jack just glared. Again.
Kavin knew he couldn't stay in New New York any longer, but he had no means of leaving, either. At least not yet. He pulled out the fob watch he kept in his inside pocket, something Jack – the man he called Darion – had yet to discover. Kavin didn't open it; however, he traced his fingers over the soft inscription of a circular hourglass, constantly turning and winding within itself.
"Quite an attractive fob watch you've got there," the barkeep spoke up, leaning in closer to the younger man. Kavin smiled slightly and tucked the watch further into his palm. "Family heirloom?"
Kavin hesitated at first, but the barkeep was harmless enough. "Something like that." He took in a deep breath through his nostrils and poked his finger through the metallic loop. "But it's broken."
"Are you going to keep it?" Jack looked up at Owen again, and before the older man could cut off his head, Owen patted him on the arm. "It's a valid question."
"I know," Jack said quietly. This is one of those times he could use a scotch, but the deal was sealed. He couldn't. "I have to talk to Ianto first." Jack blinked quietly, his hands moving on to his hips. It was still early, yet, and Jack could see the young man sitting at his flat, passing away the time with a beer and the telly. Very seldom did Jack let them out early. Ianto even could have been sleeping.
Owen kept staring back at the Captain, waiting for him to jump on his heels, grab his greatcoat, and head out the door, but Jack stood in his spot, glancing back at the results and back to a spot on the floor.
"Jack?"
"Thanks, Owen. You can leave now. Thanks a lot. I have something I need to do." Jack cracked an uneasy smile before bounding up the gallery and grabbing his coat.
"Plenty of watch shops in the city; you could probably quite a lot for it, even. Are you from here?"
"Yes, but I'm looking to move. And you're right, I suppose I could," Kavin said passively. "But I'd never part from it, even if my life depended on it. It's priceless to me."
The barkeep nodded and smiled softly. Here was an attractive young man with the rest of his life to live, and he novelized a silly pocket watch. But he still continued to humor Kavin. "Happen to know what that symbol means?"
Kavin glanced back up to the older man just before his expression softened again. He grazed his fingernails over the winding pattern, as if he were home. "Infinity." Kavin glanced up at the man just then, giving him one final, intense look before he tipped back the rest of his shot and set it back down. "Cheers."
Jack stood at Ianto's doorstep, ready to lunge right back into his SUV as he stuffed his hands into his coat pockets. There was a cool draft in the air, and the younger man was taking his time to come to his door. Jack nearly pulled out his mobile to give him a ring, but the door finally opened thirty seconds later.
He was greeted by a fumbling, shirtless Ianto only dignified by the sight of a small towel. Jack could take him right there, in the doorway, but he shoved himself into the flat for Ianto's sake.
"You must have known I was coming," Jack grinned mischievously, brushing his hand over the front of his trousers and snapping his braces. Ianto rolled his eyes and shut the door behind him.
"What's the occasion?"
Jack shrugged, crossing his arms behind his back as he stood a few feet from Ianto. "I was in the neighborhood." Ianto nodded and Jack swaggered closer. "And does there need to be one?"
The younger man took notice of Jack's mood, smiled, and loosened his hold on his towel. It slipped farther down his hips, just as Jack grazed his hand over his chest and around his waist. Seconds later, Ianto was pulled into a kiss, just as Jack slipped Ianto's hand over his groin.
"No, never," Ianto grunted, kissing him back as his fingers expanded and took hold. Jack sighed and jutted his hips toward Ianto as he shrugged away the braces. "Nice to see you."
"You, too. Y'miss me?" Jack grinned and expanded the length of his neck as Ianto's mouth brushed over his jugular. With nimble fingers, Jack freed Ianto of his pesky towel, and he gave his lover a few swift strokes.
"Yep," Ianto responded easily.
Jack had heard that before. He came here for a purpose, but the spare diversion never hurt, especially when it involved Ianto and nudity. Ianto didn't seem to mind, either, as his feet dragged over to the sofa and he pushed Jack on to it. The telly was still blaring in the background, but neither seemed to notice as they divulged in each other.
Ianto fell asleep a half hour later, the entire week seemingly catching up to him as he lied in Jack's arms. If only he knew, Jack told himself, staring down at him from the corner of his eye. Jack's fingers strewn through his hair, and Ianto stirred slightly. He wasn't quite asleep, but he could easily slip into slumber for the rest of the night.
A few minutes passed before Jack slipped away as quietly as he could to the loo. He stomach growled as he hadn't eaten all day, but he ignored it as he splashed his face with water and looked back at his reflection. The same question ate away in his brain, how this could have happened. It was impossible, yet there it was, a part of him. A part of both of them.
Jack poured himself a glass of water and looked through Ianto's cabinets until he found a box of saltine crackers. He was hungrier than he expected, and although he knew he'd regret it later, he brought the box in with him as he sat on the couch, pulled Ianto's head into his lap, and stared back at the telly.
Crumb after crumb landed on Jack's leg, the couch, and even Ianto's cheek, but the man below him didn't stir. The temptation was too great for Jack not to reach down and kiss away the flecks. By the time he was done, Ianto's eyes were open and his smile slight.
"What are you doing?" Ianto asked question, sliding his arm around Jack's neck. He smelled crackers. Jack had been raiding his kitchen again.
"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm eating. And you're sleeping." Jack smiled innocently. "At least you were."
"You woke me up," Ianto sighed before sliding his arm away and sitting up against Jack's shoulder. Jack slipped a cracker through Ianto's lips and tapped the bridge of his nose. Ianto couldn't even swallow as Jack pulled him into a kiss, licking the salt right off his lips. "Thank you."
Jack grinned and squeezed his shoulder. He had to tell him, as soon as possible, and he looked back at the younger man with a soft look in his eye, his entire gut doing flip flops inside of him. It had been different with Kavin. Kavin had expected it – they'd signed the contract together and prepared themselves.
But here was Ianto, all of twenty-five years old and completely unprepared for parenthood, let alone another man carrying his child.
Ianto's cheek rested on to Jack's shoulder, his arm around his waist, as he closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. "Jack." Jack's breathing stifled, and he looked down at him. For a moment, their eyes met, just before Ianto's eyes closed again. "Stay here tonight."
Jack nodded his head and kissed the younger man's temple. "Sleep. Sleep."