Fic- The Captain and the Boy 26/65

[branwen_blaidd]

Title: The Captain and The Boy 26/65

Pairing: Jack/Ianto, Jack/Others, Ianto/Others

Ratings: Adult – graphic sex and some violence throughout

Spoilers: General spoilers for first 2 series

Summary: An AU version of Jack, Ianto and Torchwood. Some pre-series.

Disclaimers: I own nothing.

Notes: With thanks to oncomingscone and rowanheart24 for their glorious help! Comments make me write more. I hope you enjoy this. I’ve been working on this story for nearly a year and it’s finally finished. I’ve very proud of it and I hope it’s good enough for my lovely readers! This is a finished series and won’t be abandoned. I’m planning to post a chapter a day (at roughly the same time) until it’s finished.

 

 

Jack felt fury throbbing through every inch of his body. They had the wrong man. They’d locked up and interrogated the wrong man and all along, the real culprit was still out here, still killing. If Jack hadn’t been so damn arrogant, Michael would not have been killed. Ianto would not be in this pain now.

Jack stalked through the darkest parts of town, Webley in hand. He was going to do something. He was going to get even.

Many of the creatures lurking in the darkness and the depths here knew him and they knew to stay out of his way. It was as if they could sense his mood. The weevils stayed in their sewer lairs, staying well out of his way.

Jack growled in frustration. He needed to do something, needed to hurt something, someone.

“Looking for a good time?” came a voice.

Jack turned to its source and saw a young, barely dressed man watching him. A rent boy.

Jack holstered his gun and went over him. “I’m looking for information.”

The boy smiled. “I know how to please you, sir, if that helps.”

“Not really. Listen, do you know someone called Stuart?”

“A boy, sir?”

“No. A man. He has some boys.”

“Oh.” The boy looked down. “I know him, Sir. He…he doesn’t treat his boys well, Sir. He had this one boy, sir, he nearly killed because he let another boy stay in his flat with him.”

“Where is he?”

“Who?”

“Stuart. I need you to tell me where he is.”

The boy put his head on one side. “I will but I need something from you first.”

“What do you need?”

“Cash. And for you not to mention me to him.”

Jack dug out his wallet and handed nearly one hundred pounds over to the boy. “Not a word,” he said.

The boy grinned. “I knew I liked the look of you.” He took a biro from his pocket and wrote an address on the palm of Jack’s hand. “There you go.” He grinned. “Happy searching.”

                                                * * *

The boy had directed Jack to an apartment in the slightly less rough part of the area he knew was populated mostly with rent boys. The block of flats was quiet and in good condition. He entered and took the lift to the specific flat he wanted.

The front door was locked. That was no problem. Not to Jack. He aimed his wriststrap at it, pressed a few buttons and it opened and Jack was inside. He stalked down the hall and there, sitting in the lounge, was a tall blond man. He immediately sensed Jack’s presence and looked up at him. He had hard eyes but they made no impression on Jack.

He smiled. “Good afternoon. Stuart, I believe?”

Stuart jumped to his feet. “What the fuck are you doing in my flat?” His voice was calm and measured. Jack recognised it as the type of voice whose owner was well used to using intimidation to get what he wanted. It wasn’t going to work with Jack.

Jack took a step closer. “I’ve come to see you,” he said and threw a hard punch straight at Stuart’s face. Stuart pulled back but not far enough. Jack’s punch caught him right on the nose and blood spurted from it.

Stuart stumbled and Jack grabbed him, wrestled him to the ground and pinned him there. Stuart struggled but Jack was stronger and he knew exactly how to use his strength to the best advantage.

“You’d better get off me right now,” murmured Stuart in his most intimating voice.

Jack grinned. “Or what? I’ll regret it?” Jack raised his hand and punched Stuart again.

There was a most satisfying crack and Jack didn’t stop. Blood spurted and Jack didn’t stop. Stuart’s struggles ceased and still Jack didn’t stop.

Only when Stuart fell into unconsciousness and his face was covered in blood did Jack stop. He stood, kicked Stuart hard in the ribs and left. That would teach the bastard.

Jack looked down at himself. His shirt was bloody. He closed his coat over his shirt and left. He felt good. Stuart had been properly punished for what he’d done to Ianto. And if he was responsible for anything else, well that beating would suffice for that as well.

* * *  

Ianto was sitting alone on the old grey couch positioned against the wall. Owen and Suzie were both off doing something and Tosh was working quietly at her station. He watched her. He liked her. She kept herself to herself, worked hard and did her absolute best all the time. Ianto respected that.

She smiled at him. “Did Jack bring you to help with the case?”

He hesitated. “Sort of. So you…what do you do in this you know, capturing aliens thing then?”

She smiled and leaned back in her chair. “Technical support. That’s what Jack calls it. Of course, it’s really dreaming up complicated tech to cope with his outrageous demands.”

A giggle escaped Ianto’s mouth. It felt foreign but unbelievably brilliant. She giggled with him and within seconds they were in hysterics.

The door alarm sounded and Jack walked in, his coat held shut. Tosh and Ianto were silenced immediately.

Jack didn’t speak to them, just went over to his office and disappeared into it. Ianto immediately got up and followed him.

                                                            * * *

In his quarters, Jack is changing. He’s taken his coat off and is unbuttoning his shirt. Ianto’s eyes run over the bloody shirt.

“Where did you go?” he asks.

“I had something to deal with.”

“And the blood?”

“Don’t worry, it’s not mine,” Jack says, grinning.

Ianto folds his arms. “That’s not what I was worried about.”

Jack sighs impatiently and turns to glare Ianto down. “This is part of my job and it’s got nothing to do with you how I got blood on me. Understand?” he snaps.

Ianto looks back at him in silence for a long moment. Then he swallows hard and nods. “Yes, sir,” he whispers, then turns and walks away, returning upstairs.

Jack swears and throws himself down on his bed, grunting.