Disclaimer: Don't own it (Torchwood, Midsomer Murders, etc)

This fic is proving itself to be quite rebellious... meaning that from nine chapters (as I originally planned it), it jumped up to eleven... and that's only so far _

May you enjoy your reading...

"This is what you call a pinch?" Jack Harkness raised both his eyebrows as he watched his boss/colleague from the cell's doorway. Gwen Cooper was standing right in the middle of the bench settled on the opposite wall, her head turned around so that she could gaze up at the small window built high above her. She didn't move, even after hearing the heavy door open or his words. Quietly, the American fumbled inside the room and settled down next to her, not minding the policeman waiting near the door. "When you first called, I imagined that you ran out of money for pizza or something. Not that you assaulted an inspector and got yourself thrown in jail… and in your own city, for God's sake."

"Sorry. I was in a bit of a mood." She apologized and turned to him, hands immediately locking onto his and holding them together over their laps.

"So I heard. But I'm not the one you should be apologizing to." He warned with a devilish smile.

"Wanker. Served him right… patronizing me and all that." She muttered.

"Of course. How dare anyone speak like that to the chief of the R&D division of Torchwood." Jack said, words dripping with sarcasm, and earned himself a laugh and a smile.

"The guys back in London are going to give me hell for this." She groaned and hid her face in her hands.

"Mmph. The woman who can sweet-talk herself out of an international war viciously attacks native inspector for inappropriate conduct and tone."

"Shut up. Leave it be… besides, we've got much bigger problems than my anger managements techniques…"

"Or lack thereof…" Jack continued with his teasing and mused over her blushing cheeks.

"What are we going to do about Owen?" Gwen demanded.

"Pray he'll come to his senses, watch him get married and hope that his work in London will keep the future Mrs. Harper as far away as possible?"

"He didn't tell you, did he?"

"Tell me what?"

"Jack, he's handed in his resignation." Gwen dropped the bomb and watched him get up from the bench and start pacing around the cell. The policeman outside the door remained unmoved.

"What?"

"That's why I'm here. To find out what the hell is going through that empty skull of his and maybe get some sense into it."

"Did you process the resignation?"

"No. I have it with me and I honestly hope I don't have to go back to London with it. Can we leave now? I think I'm getting lice."

"Not yet. We're waiting for the papers to be filled in. Great mug shot, by the way. And then I think you'll get a speech from the nice ginger-head you decided to pour your frustrations on." Jack smiled at her, but it was obvious that he was hiding his inner turmoil regarding his mate's decision, behind the usual screen of jokes, smile and laughter. Gwen patted the bench next to her and he sat down again, this time facing her entirely. "I think I met someone." He looked up and saw surprise and hurt widening her lovely doe eyes.

"You've been here what, a couple of days? A week? You sure move fast…" disappointment filled her words.

"Gwen… Owen told me about you and him… he didn't mean to… it just came up… we were fighting and… you know how these things turn up."

"Yeah…"

"If I had known you before… everything… we would have been great… but, as it is…"

"I see…"

"No, you don't. You're too young for me." He spoke quickly, not letting her interrupt him with her struggles and denials. "Not age-wise… but experience-wise. You were put in charge of the R&D division because you know people… and there, we're all just freaks, more or less. Me, Owen, Suzie… we're bordering anti-social and some of us are definitely not people-persons. But you know how to interact with all of us, because you know how to speak to pretty much anyone." He smiled, squeezed her hands and then gave her a tight hug. "Don't believe for a moment that I consider you in any way below me just because you haven't been through the same things that I have… in fact, I'm awfully glad you haven't. I'm happy that you can still see the good side of this world. That you can still trust people."

"Tell me about it." A strange voice was heard from the general direction of the doorway, making Jack and Gwen almost jumped apart at the sound. Looking away from each other, they notice the newly-arrived ginger-head standing in the doorway, a calm smile stuck on his lips, identical to the one present during his original encounter with the Welshwoman. "Allow me to present myself. DCI Rhys Williams. Of course, I already met the lovely Miss Cooper. And you are?"

"Jack Harkness. I'm here to bail out the lovely Miss Cooper. Excuse me, but aren't you a little bit young to be a DCI?"

"What did you expect? A bald head? Canes? Perhaps a hot nurse to help me move about?"

"No, although personally I wouldn't have minded the latter." Jack answered with a leer, earning himself a friendly swat from Gwen. "Maybe a Barnaby-like character. Definitely not a Troy, though."

"I don't know if I should say that you've watched "Midsomer Murders" too much or too little. I'm definitely a Jones. Smartest side-kick ever and we share the same mother-tongue."

"And here was I hoping that Jack had gone and got himself drunk into oblivion on his own, when he phoned to let me know that he got you out of jail." Owen welcomed his fellow Torchwood colleagues in his flat, the following day.

"What's this?" Gwen stomped to the middle of his living room and demanded angrily, shoving the handwritten resignation (probably the only readable document he'd ever laid on paper in his entire six years spent at Torchwood) in his face. The medic merely shrugged away and calmly sat on his sofa, making a show of picking up a newspaper and shuffling through it.

"Jeez, could you be less subtle?" Jack spoke from somewhere behind her.

"Subtlety got us here, so excuse me if I refuse to make use of it right now." Gwen bit back. "Explain this!" she demanded again.

"Can't you read, boss?" It's exactly what it says."

"And why is that?"

"Because I plan to retire from Torchwood and leave London entirely. Diane's got a good job here… the city is nice, peaceful for a change… and that's exactly why I bought a practice with the intention of starting it after the wedding." The medic spoke calmly, as if they were discussing the weather, not even bothering to look up from the paper… that is, until it was ripped from his hands.

"You what?" this time Jack exploded.

"Has everyone gone daft today? Or just deaf?"

"Oh, I heard you fine! I just can't believe my ears. You're turning your back to your life's work, to your friends? And for what? For a witch and a practice?"

"Don't call her that!" Owen stood up.

"I understand your need to go domestic, but now you're just getting ridiculous! How long do you think you'll be able to live this lie, Owen?" Jack thundered and Gwen took a few steps away, suddenly wary of the men's reactions.

"This is my life! Excuse me if I'll do whatever the hell I want with it!" he snarled. The air tensed as Jack took a deep breath.

"Owen, you're my best mate and I both understand and forgive you." At this, he was answered with a disbelieving snort. "Every time I screwed up, you were there to give me a strong enough kick and wake me up. So, in order to prove to you exactly what kind of a good friend I can be, allow me to return the favour." He declared…

And all hell broke loose.

The medic noticed the punch heading his way too late. His did not, however, miss his queue or Gwen's shouts, ordering them to break it up. Still, he gave absolutely no sign of obeying her and put all his efforts into either missing Jack's punches or returning them heartily.

"Come on, Harkness! Fight like the man you claim to be."

"Bring it on, scarecrow!"

"Fucking wanker! You think you can take me down?"

"Just you watch me!"

Unfortunately for the Torchwood trio, the whole ruckus soon became noticed, especially after the two best friends burst into the storey's hallway, nearly ripping Owen's front door off its hinges, accompanied by Gwen's angry shouts and occasional attempts of separating them.

Approximately ten minutes after the private affair became public (for all of the medic's new neighbours to watch), their small stampede was interrupted by two police teams that barely managed to draw the two men away from each other's throats, as well as their equally angry female companion. Needless to say, the ride to the station was an eventful one.

"Second time in two days. I must say I'm impressed." The strong Welsh accent that welcomed her the moment she crossed the station's entrance, made her roll her eyes and let out a mighty swear. "Tsk, what a dirty mouth you have, young lady?" the detective admonished her, once again acting as if she were a five year old. "So what brings you here again? More car accidents or have we evolved to scaring pedestrians off the crossing?"

"You know, the last things I need on my mind now is yet another idiot trying to be smart with me. So, if you'll excuse me, I'm more than ready to be taken to my cell." She smiled mockingly at the sincerely amused ginger-head.

"I see. And, pray tell, who exactly are the idiots that dare occupy your royal mind?" he stepped forward, but careful, obviously still keeping in mind her vicious kick from the previous day. Before she could answer, however, the door behind her burst open, as the rest of the police squad that had descended upon them at Owen's block of flats, struggled to keep their hold on the two still-no-yet-tired men. The DCI merely raised and amused eyebrow. "Nevermind then."

Seven hours later, the police station became quiet… really quiet, as the evening set it.

The three employees of Torchwood sat, this time, is a typical cell, featuring the typical wooden bench, the typical steel bars and the typical leering policemen passing by every now and then. Jack and Owen each sat down on the floor, on opposite corners, refusing to acknowledge each other, but still drawing fits every once in a while. The rest of the small prison seemed empty, bar themselves, so Gwen decided to take a short nap, which only resulted in a higher degree of crankiness and a sore neck. Groaning, she stood up, her hair sticking out in what seemed to be every possible direction, and checked her watch. 19:45. And they were still in that blasted cell. Damn. Double damn.

"I'm gonna kill Suzie when we get out of here." She grumbled.

"Please tell me you didn't call her." Jack whined from his corner, formed by two walls of steel bars.

"Hers is the only phone number I know by heart. It's not like I could call from my mobile or as if I have the a Phone Book memorised."

"No, but also learning Hartman's number by heart wouldn't be a wrong move." Owen argued quietly from the other side of the enclosed space.

"Fine, next time you can call whomever the hell you want."

"No. That's why you're our boss." Jack grinned tiredly.

"Bloody idiots. They're probably in some pub right now, downing pints and making fun, while we're stuck here for the night." Owen swore and rubbed his hands over his face, as if to keep himself awake.

"It's time to be grateful, you lot. Wakey wakey." A cheerful voice filled the air, as DCI Williams appeared from around the corner, wearing an evil wide smile. "It's time to get out of here!"

"Don't you have any murders cases to solve?"

"Is your hair colour natural?"

"Is the jail always so empty?"

"I'm afraid the only answer I can give you is "YES", so get your bums off my floor and come meet your rescuer." He produced a set of keys, unlocked the door and waited patiently for his "tenants" to start feeling their legs again and crawl out of their "temporary accommodation". "Nice look. Suits you." He commented the moment Gwen walked out, but she lacked the energy to scream something rude back at him or to even give him the finger.

"Can't believe Suzie drove all the way down here." Owen muttered.

"Shower, food, sleep." The Welshwoman recited.

"Ianto?" Jack walked into the station's waiting hall and stopped dead the moment he saw the young tailor quietly sitting on a faded blue plastic chair, a dark grey suit splendidly covering his body and a black long jacket clutched in his hidden hands.

"Sorry I didn't come earlier. I though Rhys was in one of his moods." He looked apologetically at the dishevelled group and waited for the DCI to come up next to him. "I believe all introductions have been made. Jack Harkness, Owen Harper and…"

"Gwen Cooper." The Welshwoman quickly answered and stepped forward to shake one of the tailor's now free hands, mustering the brightest smile she could, given the circumstances. "Thank you for getting us out of here. But, if I may ask, how do you know each other."

"Mr. Jones is making my wedding suit… well, he finished mine. He's making Jack's now." The medic answered quietly, cheeks reddening with embarrassment. "Thanks mate." He directed the line at Ianto and, for the first time since meeting the stoic Welshman, felt horrible for having drawn conclusions regarding him so quickly and without any real reasons whatsoever.

"No problem. I've got my car waiting outside, so let me know where I have to drop you off."

"Thank you for you kindness, but we wouldn't want to impose that much on you, Mr. Jones."

"Don't worry about it! Ianto here is a model citizen and a very good driver… unlike some other people I came across." The ginger-head smirked again, eyes definitely set on Gwen, who was ready to let out a fierce reply, having found an untouched energy bubble inside her.

"Leave them alone, Rhys. Come on." The young man herded the three out of the police station and into his car, as if he was the oldest of the bunch and not the youngest.

"But I was having so much fun." The inspector pouted and followed them shortly.

"Leave off or I'm telling Rhia. Let's see then who'll fix you your morning coffee, because I sure as hell am not going to."

"Alright, alright. Just as long as you're sure they'll behave…" he pointed at the three figures huddled in their respective seats.

"Good night, Rhys."

"Bye Ianto."

"Would you like me to stop by the A&E?" the young man asked five minutes later, glancing at the unusually quiet man sitting next to him.

"That's not really necessary. Owen's got a medical kit back home." Jack explained and supplied the medic's address, glancing warily from side to side. Behind them, there was only silence. Ianto couldn't help but smile and at the very unusual, and horribly embarrassing situation, for the three colleagues. He felt like a father, driving his naughty teenage children home, after having been called down to the principal's office to be announced that they had been caught smoking weed behind the gym.

"So what was this all about then?" he couldn't help but ask after yet another long moment of tomb-like silence. "It's not everyday that a groom-to-be gets in such a nasty fight with his best man. You didn't sleep with the bride-to-be did you?" he spoke on a casual tone, but his eyes betrayed him. He was already scared of what Jack's answer could be and what it would signify.

"God no!" said man burst aloud. "It's not that…"

"Then what?" Ianto threaded carefully.

"It's a long story. I'm sorry we can't give you more details… and that we can't be better company." Finally Gwen spoke from the back seat. The driver just nodded, his relief barely obvious. Needless to say, for the rest of the short drive, no more words were exchanged.

"Don't forget to come by tomorrow for your final fitting."

"What time?"

"Will ten in the morning do?"

"Sure. See you then… and Ianto, thank you." For the first time that day, Jack dared look up into the Welshman's eyes and, surprisingly, blushed madly. A second later he was out the door and towards the block of flats, walking next to his colleagues. He had turned around and left quickly, missing Ianto's very similar reaction to his words and gestures. It took almost an entire minute for the tailor to recompose himself and be able to drive away.

"Aargh!" a mighty scream woke both Owen, from his bedroom, and Gwen, from the couch, on a typical Welsh Friday morning (somewhere between cloudy and rainy). They both jumped up from their beds and ran towards the bathroom, from where the noise had originated, bumping into each other painfully.

"Ow!" they groaned in unison and turned into the bathroom's doorway, only to see Jack Harkness standing in front of the mirror with a towel wrapped around his waist and a look of disbelief-bordering-insanity imprinted on his face. Slowly, he turned his head towards them, blue eyes the size of saucers.

"He saw me looking like this." He whispered and desperately pointed at the bruise formed around his left eyes, the bloody scratch marks on his left cheek and his split lower lip.

"It's not like you were looking better than Owen…" Gwen sighed and pointed at the medic's face, which held more bruises than the pilot's. "Or me…" she muttered and passed a hand through her now, thankfully, washed and dried hair.

"It's not that… Jack fancies young Mr. Jones." Owen explained with a teasing smile spread over his thin lips. "And apparently he was quite on the right track… of course, that is, until the poor man had to bail us out of jail. So, don't worry, Jack, I'm sure you looking like a sight last night will probably have nothing to do with him cutting you off the list." He winked at Gwen and laughed the moment his friend turned even paler.

"Well, your face might look like something, but at least let's make sure the rest of you is presentable." The Welshwoman spoke with a kind smile, and returned the medic's gesture, leaving both of her subordinates speechless. "I know what you're both thinking… but I've put some thought into this whole thing after I arrived here… trust me, I had plenty of time to do that, having been locked in a cell twice in two days and all… and, well… I like Mr. Jones. He seems a nice young man… and you must all agree that the services he provides are beyond meagre words of praise."

No Tosh in this chapter, but plenty of Tosh in the following ones. Promise!

As usual, feel free to make use of the review link below for any suggestions, complaints, thoughts and brownies XD