Right, after a long time of trying to think up a case that would fit what I want to do with the boys, I gave up and have shamelessly stolen one from Bad Girls.

Thusly, in addition to Torchwood not being mine -moan, grumble & etc- neither is Nikki Wade. More's the pity.

MASSIVE cuddles to everyone who has put this on alert and reviewed, you all make my day!

Keep the comments coming, I do adore them so 3

Hope you enjoy,

x

Ianto was led into a plush office that smacked of wealth and taste simultaneously; quite an achievement judging by the chambers he'd visited before. He walked in slowly, trying to take in all the miniscule details he could to mull over later. Jack was subject to the same discerning eye as his furniture, which wandered lazily over his form before settling on his desk.

It was Iantos nightmare incarnate.

Files open and strewn over the old oak masterpiece, papers scattered out of order and if he wasn't largely mistaken there were a few takeaway menus scattered among the mayhem. He furrowed his brow and stilled his fingers, longing to establish some sort of order.

Jack caught his gaze.

"Yeah" he drawled, "I work like a slob, I know. But I find it helps."

Ianto' eyebrow crept well into his forehead.

Jack laughed.

"Look" he gestured "here is the case I'm working on. Right? And these are the precedents that might be relevant. And there are the judges directions on similar cases. Organised chaos, I like to think."

"Calling that organised in anyway seems about as accurate as calling the Judiciary independent." Ianto quipped.

"Why Mr Jones, would you be suggesting the Home Secretary has anything but the utmost respect and admiration for our esteemed judges?"

"You read my mind sir" He muttered dryly, and indulged in a small smile as Jack chuckled and motioned for him to be seated. Jack plonked himself on the desk opposite and noticed Iantos face as he sat on a sheaf of papers.

"You going to organise me, Mr Jones?"

"I would never presume to tame the beast, Sir."

Jack grinned, and murmered a barely audible 'quite' before turning to face his pupil with a serious demeanour.

"Nikki Wade."

Ianto balked.

"So, you remember the case then. The cop killer. Made an example of, slaughter by media, life with no chance of parole. Royally screwed herself over with her witness statement, saying she'd do it all over again if she got the chance."

Jack, with an effortless flair for the dramatic that he was famous for and was renowned for winning over juries and judges alike took a pause, before continuing and gesturing to the files.

"She's launching an appeal, and we are going to argue it. It's a headline case Mr Jones, welcome to the Big Boys playground."

Not wasting a moment, he gestured to a desk in the corner of his office, already stacked 7 boxes high. "Start working through it, report at 4pm. I've got a few meetings to see to so you should be on your own for the day. Any questions?"

Ianto was flabbergasted.

"Great. Get to it."

With that, Jack donned his floor length trenchcoat and swept out the office leaving a most dazed Welshman in his wake.

Ianto took a moment to reflect. Leaning back in his chair, he closed his eyes briefly and recalled the man's effortless ease, his gently slurring American drawl and loathe though he was to admit it, the sort of body that designer suits were made for. If nothing else, he was now sure that most if not all the stories that had been whispered around the assistants and solicitors about this man were true. And he'd blown Ianto away with a confidence in his demeanour that Ianto knew both made him great and was an area he was lacking himself.

He would have to prove himself through the more traditional medium of the Long Hard Slog.

He was determined to do it.

Jack sauntered into the office, not able to keep the smirk from his face. He hadn't had a pupil that attractive in…well. Ever. And he'd ended up in bed with the other two, so logic followed that sooner or later Ianto Jones would fall to his mercy. A shiver ran across his shoulders as he breezed into the room, and threw his coat at the back of his chair. Looking across the room his breath almost hitched at the back of his throat. There, with one eyebrow deliciously cocked was the gorgeous man, shirt sleeves rolled up and waistcoat buttoned firmly, jacket hanging neatly from the coat stand.

Oh those arms.

He focused.

"So then, what do you make of it? Not that I'd imagine you'd get very far on your first day, but ideas-"

Jack was cut off.

"Three main points of pursuit. Firstly, the history of the policeman was never fully examined. So far, I've managed to unearth one complaint of sexual misconduct by a former colleague which was never disclosed at trial. We'll have to find her of course but it might be enough to open a re trial anyway. If he really was about to rape her girlfriend, then she could easily get murder reduced to manslaughter. Secondly, no psychological review seems to be on file at the time. It was never mentioned in the trial. If we argued PTSD then there might be a way around the incriminating witness statement from the time. Turn things around, the poor woman sees her life partner almost assaulted, is attacked herself and inadvertently kills a man. That has to be prime ground for stress. If we can prove that witness statement was taken when she was suffering and was then used as a key element in the case, then we can argue false evidence was admitted and again, a retrial. The last one is more tricky though."

He paused, and looking down at his neat cursive he drummed his pen lightly against the tabletop. "The client never took to the stand. It unquestionably influenced the outcome of her case but I'm not sure yet if we can argue that as grounds for a retrial. I believe there was an obscure case that went down in that route, the Crown Vs. Merryfeld in 1997. I've not had a chance to check it though. But they are definitely the three main options of pursuit."

He looked up at Jack expectantly, and was mildly amused and not a little insulted to see his jaw hanging down in shock.

"You did all that. All that. In a day?"

"It's amazing what a little bit of organisation can achieve isn't it Sir? Now if you don't mind I think I might know someone who can get hold of this old colleague. Do you mind-" he gestured at the door.

"No, no…Go for it."

Ianto slugged on his jacket, and as he was walking out the door a still mildly dazed QC called out after him.

"Not just a pretty face then?"

The retreating voice made him smile.

"Oh you should see the rest of me, Sir."