Dramaturgy

Part Two: The Second Meeting

I think I'm going to start doing these meetings in a series of one shots that are just fun and insightful. Also, I love to mess with the characters. Sherlock is such a pain though!

I do not own anything from either the Sherlock Universe or The Doctor Who Universe. This was just a crack idea I had one late night and decided to write. Of course Mycroft would know about Torchwood. In fact, he'd probably have met the Doctor on more than one occasion. You know it is true.

"The pears are rubbish, I'm afraid." A posh voice said, the tone sharp in the hustle of the crowd around them both. The late afternoon rush had just gotten going in earnest, and business folks from all over were doing their after work shopping. "Nasty things sprayed with even nastier pesticides. Not worth their weight, really."

"Odd, you're not the only one to say that to me today." Jack said faintly, turning to look at the speaker who'd identity he already knew, the pears he'd been looking at forgotten momentarily. "What is it with you people and pears? They haven't done anything."

'You people?' Mycroft Holmes mouthed, a slight scrunch to his face indicating his mild disgust as such an obvious question. How had he managed to get lumped in with such a lowly category was beyond him, a fact that was clearly evident on his face. It wasn't that he had anything against pears, natural pears, but since they weren't exactly native to Earth, he felt that all the artificial things humans had to put on them to grow them in the first place were the real problem. Artificial chemicals for artificial fruit on an obscure planet not meant to house them in the first place.

But that was besides the point.

Captain Harkness was sort of surprised really, though he knew his ears didn't play tricks on him now like they once had, to see Mycroft Holmes in the local Tescos, of all places. It was a few blocks away from the main Hub in Cardiff, and was not exactly a prime location on the best days, especially not for someone as high up as Mr. Holmes clearly was. So he'd never expected to hear his voice in such a common place, especially after the normal hours of work. Although Holmes probably never kept what most people would describe as 'Normal Hours of Operation' as a basic work schedule. Not if his ever present, tailored suit was anything to judge on.

It really stood out here.

"Mr. Holmes, I didn't expect to see you again so soon." Jack said with a quick smirk, placing the fruit back into the basket carefully. "And here in Wales, of all places."

"No rest for the wicked, as the saying goes." Mycroft shared his smirk briefly before his features returned to the schooled mask they always seemed to rely on before he tucked away the ever-present umbrella and offered his hand. "Though I must express surprise of my own at running into you here, as well."

"So you didn't come for me this time, then? That's sort of a relief." Jack laughed as he took the other man's hand briefly, the tight grip mirrored in the business man's own hand shake. "I must say that talking to you is a bit unnerving at the best of times, and really intimidating the rest of the time."

"Oh, how so?" Holmes seemed curious, but not surprised.

"I had my team look you up." Jack turned serious now, because this topic was a serious one. He could be serious when he really wanted to be. "It seems that you don't really exist anywhere past a faked paper trail. You exist nowhere except on fake paper."

"My, my, I'm impressed. Normally people find that one paper trail an go home happy." Mycroft didn't show much emotion, but a faint twinkle in his eyes showed Harkness that he was both interested and in good humor. "To find nothing at all means that you went beyond what I had placed there. That takes quite the achievement, I'm assured."

What had been placed there was the paper trail of a sixty-five year old, retired, mine worker from somewhere near Lindsey, who's wife was dead and had no children to speak of. He lived a quiet but reserved life near his village of birth on a decent plot of land that he farmed regularly. He spent a small amount of money on weekly groceries, and was said to have to walk with a cane because of a leg injury he'd sustained during his mining career. It was a load of bullocks, but well fabricated, and whoever had put this together, had earned Jack Harkness's salute. It was one hell of a cover story.

"My team are impressive, aren't they?" Jack's casual smirk was back now, full force. It was Mycroft's turn now to move. "I hand picked all of them."

"Especially since you have access to such stock, state-of-the-art technology, and equipment, Captain Harkness. Most impressive." Holmes nodded in agreement, his head moving elegantly as he dodged the Captain's barbed comment. "Your Archivalist in particular draws questions of his own right. As does your Tech Analyst."

"Oh, how so?" Jack threw back, his words meant to mock ones that Holmes had used previously. He was back on edge now though, knowing in his heart of hearts that what he was talking bout was a dangerous subject. "I thought Ianto was rather lovely, myself, especially in all those suits of his. Clearly you're a suit man yourself, Mr. Holmes. And I can't pass up a pretty face."

"A point I won't contest, Captain, I assure you. I was merely touching on his former employment. All of their former employments, actually." Holmes took a half-step backwards as he half-twirled his umbrella in some sort of distracted manner. "However, it appears as though you trust him implicitly, so who am I to judge? Your team's well-far is none of my concern."

"Yeah..." Jack was now at a lost, the conversation had just taken a drastically personal turn. Was this man hinting as his growing relationship with Ianto Jones? "It's mine."

"Hm, yes." The umbrella twirled again as Holmes eyed the crowd about them with distaste. "I was merely making small talk."

"What do you want, Holmes?" The Captain finally snapped, patience at a limited end. This man tended to do that to him, wear out what limited reserves he had. It must have been a natural talent. "And please make it quick."

"I was only making small talk, really." He re-affirmed, smirk playing once more, never reaching his eyes. "I'm attempting to pass the time while I wait for someone to show up. However unpredictable he might be, he is rarely ever late."

"A friend of yours then?" Odd to think of this man having a life outside of whatever government business it was that he did, waiting for friends before going to the local pub for a pint and a game of cards. "Or a business acquaintance?"

Mycroft laughed, truly laughed, and the sound made the hair raise on the back of Jack's arms and neck.

"Hardly either description, which is something I regret at points." A look of something flashed in the Icy eyes before it retreated to hide once more, gone before Jack had a chance to analyze it fully. "He would see us as something of a Balance, Opposite Powers in life, if you will. I won't deny that he does give me a run for my money."

Mycroft Holmes -the real Mycroft Holmes- not the shell that was standing before him, one shown out in public, was an absolute mystery. And Jack Harkness was extremely proficient at reading people. The man was intriguing in his own sense, darkly handsome in his well-to-do business suit, which was expertly tailored to his form, and carried about a mysterious umbrella in all weather. But it was the underlying scent of forbidden power wafting from him in waves that really caused Jack to pick up and notice. It was exotic, dangerously so, on those stand-alone principles by themselves. Throw in all his influence, his mannerisms, his posh upbringing, and his whip-sharp intellect, and he became even more alluring.

Mycroft Holmes wasn't someone he'd normally have gone for either, someone of Holmes's stature was a tangled web he'd never really enjoyed weaving and dodging through. Captain Harkness preferred the casual feel of a lesser fling with someone who would easily forget his face, as he would forget theirs. But even Jack sometimes felt like getting his hands dirty, just as he felt the pull of this man, something akin to a gravitational force of a hidden planet, or maybe a black hole. It felt just as deadly as that anyways.

This dance was very dangerous.

Not to mention his tenuous relationship that was just beginning wit the immensely clever Ianto Jones, something that had been slow to blossom, but more so much more the wait. So rewarding, what the two of them had, and for the first time in a long time, Jack had truly began to feel happy again. He wasn't about to risk what he had with the delectable Coffee Boy for some one off with a man he probably didn't even have the real name of. Not when a man would go to three different stores for specific coffee beans for him. Coffee beans that he'd gone to retrieve quite a while ago.

All of a sudden, this entire encounter was beginning to concern him.

Ianto never took this long.

He was practical, in every sense of the word, and that meant he never did anything without first having thought about it for a while and weighing it against pros and cons. No move was made without close inspection, and Ianto never dawdled. In fact, Jack would hazard a guess that Ianto didn't even know the meaning of the word, except out of context or in the work-placed of his fellow peers. Had something happened?

Should he be worried?

He didn't have time to really give it any thought.

"Ah, Sherlock, how nice to see you here." Mycroft purred ominously, eyes fixed on a point behind Jack's shoulder, the deep blue lighting up with icy interest. "And Dr. Watson, I take it that finding me wasn't too much of a hassle for you? I knew you were already in the area, after all. Just one more stop on your journey."

"Mycroft." A very male someone spat out as he rounded into Harkness's vision. Tall, dark, and handsome weren't enough to convey what the man standing to his left was, not really, all cheek bones, flashing eyes, and pale skin. "I take it that it was you who led us on such a merry chase."

It wasn't a question.

The man clearly knew Mycroft far longer than Jack had, that was for sure. His stance was strong, confident, and radiating anger on such a level it almost made him want to take a step back. The thin man was intense on the same level that Mycroft Holmes was, so it was no wonder they interacted like they were now, two immovable objects colliding in space against one another. Two raging forces meeting at a breaking point, though Mycroft wasn't flanked by anyone like this mysterious Sherlock person was. Even if the companion wasn't much force or presence wise.

"Hullo, Mycroft." The other man said, this one shorter than his companion, and opposite him in so many ways it was like looking at comparing the moon to the sun. He also seemed more pleasant, countering the sharp anger of his companion. "Odd, finding you in Cardiff. What brings you all the way out here to Wales?"

"Not odd, John, do catch up." The taller man snapped, clearly irritated at Mycroft Holmes and taking it out on his companion, though the shorter man hardly reacted to the insult. "He led us here, of course, did you not Mycroft? I get to close to another one of your little secrets with this one? Or perhaps I hit a nerve?"

"Of course not, Sherlock. I was merely here to meet you. As I've said before, it is hardly my entire purpose to keep tabs on you and you alone, every step of the way. Regardless of how entertaining you and Dr. Watson's shenanigans are, I have more important affairs to delegate." Holmes's smirk flared a bit, catching Jack in an odd fashion, like bating a starving dog with red meat. "Lestrade phoned me."

"It is disturbing to know that you keep in contact with him so well, Mycroft. And frankly it isn't something that I ever needed to know. You having him on speed dial is the pinnacle of horrors." Sherlock, as Mycroft had called him, snarled before twirling a bit in place, eyes only glancing off Jack briefly. "Talking with the lower peons again, I see? I wasn't even aware that you got your hands dirty with the likes of Torchwood. I thought you were above that nonsense."

"Naturally, Sherlock. You do seem to think I am The Government, after all." Now Mycroft was really smirking, his umbrella planted firmly in the ground as he took a step towards them. The comment caught Harkness off guard, and immediately he was wary. How had this mystery man, who clearly knew Mycroft Holmes, known about Torchwood? And what did he mean when he said Mycroft Holmes was The Government? As in capitals? "And what sort of employee would I be if I didn't know about Britain's most poorly kept secret? Well, after UNIT anyways."

"The same type you always are, I'd imagine." Came Sherlock's scathing retort before his brain shifted gears suddenly. "You hardly show all of your hand so quickly, Mycroft. May I ask what your game is so early, this evening? I do tire of your power plays."

"Boys, boys, enough now." Dr. Watson re-affirmed, coming to stand between the two glowering men, trying to sooth the intense debate they were clearly having. "Let's try to be civil about this, if you please. Sherlock, I'm sure you'd love to pester Mycroft forever, and Mycroft I'm sure you'd love to torment Sherlock, but can we call a truce? If only for a few minutes. I'd rather like some answers."

"That's what I was thinking." Jack chimed in, his face slowly storming over, clouds hanging low on his head. "What the Hell is going on around here?"

"Hm, you certainly sound American. Don't you?" Sherlock said abruptly, turning those stormy eyes onto Jack fully, as if he'd just now noticed his presence. The power behind those eyes startled him slightly, something in them familiar, but unplaceable. "But you're not, are you? No, of course not. Which would explain why Mycroft was so engrossed in talking with you. He's hardly interested with something as common as an American.

So, intergalactic traveler then, or at the very least, alien in origins, one who's heard the dreadful American accent upon first arrival and mimicked it. You have in your possession older American military issued clothing, but the style is a later dated fashion than the coat, so not consistent in your stay in this time era, so you've been here before, but not at this time frame. Though judging by your familiarity with your surroundings and the stains on your Great Coat, you've been here for quite some time during this stay. In Cardiff, I mean, not Cardiff specifically. Because I think you've been other places on Earth besides just Cardiff. But perhaps you are just a Time Agent? I know those are some-what documented in the records well, or at least they are according to Torchwood One. Am I at least getting close?"

Captain Harkness blinked twice.

Beside him, Dr. Watson just sighed heavily.

"Do give it a rest, won't you Sherlock? As fascinating as I'm sure Captain Harkness is, he's hardly the reason for you to be here. You did no travel all the way from London for such a deduction." Mycroft got a glare for his attempts at defusing the two, but seemed nonplussed. Like he'd dealt with Sherlock before. "I was able to confirm UNIT and Torchwood were not part of your case. Neither was any part of the British military, regardless of the branch, as I'm sure John can help you confirm."

"Then why was it I found traces of alien technology on the murder victim, Mycroft?" Sherlock growled tightly, eyes flaring with impatience. "There shouldn't have been anything in London like that, not with you patrolling as heavily as you do. It had to come from somewhere! The only weak link in this equation is Torchwood and The Rift!"

"Please, I just said that Torchwood and UNIT wasn't involved in the technologic appearance themselves. I never said that it wasn't alien in origin." Jack eyed Mycroft carefully, suddenly getting the feeling that this meeting wasn't as random as he said it was. "Which is why I brought you here. If you would allow me to get a word in edge wise, you'd know that you're talking to Captain Jack Harkness."

"Torchwood Three?" Suddenly Sherlock sounded wary, eyeing Jack with all the caution devoted to rabid animals and serial murderers. "I knew he was Torchwood, but really? You felt it necessary to get him involved in all this? I want to solve my case, not have it taken away from me! Mycroft you fool!"

Jack was currently feeling the same way. Holmes had said that their meeting was purely coincidental, and yet here he was implying that he had meant to rig the half-assed meeting between them all. He'd known Mycroft was dangerous, and that this new player Sherlock was potentially dangerous as well, but he was just coming to realize just how dangerous they both really were. The companion, Dr. Watson, seemed alright, but if he was kept in such regard by both men, Jack wasn't about to write him off as harmless just yet. Not that the jumper was over threatening in and of itself, but who knew what was underneath the jumper he wore? Most definitely regard the quiet, seemingly harmless ones with the most scrutiny.

"Oh do please stop thinking so loudly, Captain. Yes, John is armed, and yes, Mycroft and I are both familiar with one another, but no, we are not here to threaten or use you. I have no desire for such outside help." Sherlock whirled around to stare at him, his coat flaring out like some large bat spreading its wings wide. "Though your thoughts that Mycroft and I are dangerous are spot on. Well done."

John laughed slightly, trying still to defuse the situation.

"He hasn't told you yet, has he?" Sherlock said suddenly, eyes lighting up again, though this time it was excitement, having a secret that no one else had. "Mycroft, you old dog you, holding out on poor Captain Harkness. You didn't tell him, and he hasn't worked it out yet!"

"Sherlock, I didn't work it out on my own." Dr. Watson said, somewhat exasperatedly. "I had to find out from your argument with Mycroft after the whole Study In Pink lot. He had implied you were arch enemies, but that was before we'd come against Moriarty, and I believed him. Sometimes I still believe him."

At this Sherlock snickered, head thrown back dramatically as he laughed at the situation, as well as John and whatever else he'd said. John just continued to glare at Sherlock, eyes rolling as he arched one brow in Mycroft's direction. Mycroft just shrugged and sighed as well, though not as loudly as Dr. Watson had earlier. Jack just stood there, as confused as ever.

"What are you talking about?" He finally bit out, eyebrows knitting in contempt at the entire situation. "What haven't I worked out on my own?"

Sherlock instantly reeled himself in, face going almost immediately passive.

"Come John, the game is on!" He waved his hand in Mycroft and Jack's direction as he whirled on the ball of his foot, spinning in place before marching towards the doors. "No time to dawdle!"

"Nice to meet you, Captain." John Watson said before saluting tightly, flashing a pleasant smile as he tottered off after the eccentric man who was damn near to the doors by now. "And don't worry! He's not as big of an arse as he appears to be!"

Jack was left blinking as them as he tried to process what had just happened, and just what was going on now. The tall man with dark hair and piercing eyes, Sherlock as the other two had called him, and his companion Dr. Watson were only the tip of the iceberg, and Mycroft Holmes was not being anymore forth coming as he continued to stand there passively, watching the other two leave. The man had heaved a slight sigh before turning his eyes back to watch Harkness carefully, eyes cold but focused.

"Don't mind my brother and his companion, Captain Harkness. He and Doctor Watson mean no harm..." He smirked again. "Intentionally, anyways. It always upset Mummy when he meant to do it."

Jack Harkness's heart skipped a beat.

"Do have a nice night, or whatever remains of it, Captain." Holmes continued on, as if Jack hadn't been standing there gaping at him like a fish out of water, his umbrella twirling ever so slightly as he took a few steps. "And do tell that nice PA of yours thank you for the lovely coffee suggestions. They do so help after a long day at the office."

Jack could only continue to gape after the man as he too disappeared into the late-evening crowd of the local Tescos, the signature umbrella tucked dutifully into his left hand. And it wasn't until Ianto showed back up, hands full with the several different coffee brands that Jack knew were each of the team's favorite, that he even attempted to move from his stock-still position in the middle of the deserted isle.

But despite all protests and attempts at explanation, he couldn't get the feeling that this wasn't the last time he was going to be seeing either of the Holmes Brothers.

And what a pain that was.