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d8rkmessngrAuthor: d8rkmessngr
Pairing: Jack/OMC, Jack/?, Jack/Ianto eventually, het and slash
Rating: NC-17 (betaed)
Summary: He left Jack on the game station. Abandoned. But then…he came back…different. An AU look on what happens if things happened differently. Doctor Who 'verse with Torchwood later on. Be sure to read the warnings.
Warnings: Please read each chapter's individual warnings. Some parts down the road may briefly mention non-con, abuse, and/or violence. Dark in the beginning. Please note there are some dark thoughts as my boys are broken…for now. Each chapter will be labeled for your convenience.
Author's Notes: Please note this is an AU that will cross over DW to TW season one. I'm probably spoiling my own story, but it will eventually be Janto. There's a bit of a journey first. I hope you enjoy. I'm working on this and intend to post regularly every other day. And again, I always believe in happy endings. So without further ado…
Disclaimer: RTD and BBC owns them. I'm just borrowing them for a while.
Notes For This Chapter: Note there are parallels to TW's "Greeks Bearing Gifts"
Prologue + Ch , Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch 12, Ch 13,Ch 14, Ch 15, Ch 16, Ch 17, Ch 18. Ch 19, Ch 20, Ch 21, Ch 22, Ch 23, Ch 24
Master Fic List: here
Chapter 25 – "Greeks Bearing Gifts"
Act I
Two days later…
The fact that his phone was ringing now, now, of all times, was either a joke or something to cry about.
He reached out of the duvet, feeling like he was having a bit of déjà vu. It was the only reason why his hand slapped around the table for his cordless and pressed it in the general direction where his ear would be under the thick covers.
But it was still ringing.
Shit, it was his mobile this time. Bloody brilliant.
A sleepy mumble, bare satiny skin brushing against his groin, and an arm next to him warned him if he didn't stop the excessive ringing soon, he was going to have a rotten morning.
A sullen flick of his wrist and the mobile flipped open. He didn't check the number.
"Owen Harper," he grumbled, his eyes still closed.
"Is this Doctor Owen Harper?"
Christ, don't tell him he needed to ask Tosh to unlist his mobile, too. Owen cleared his throat and tried to sound more like a doctor, accustomed to being roused at—Owen checked the time and groaned—one twenty in the fucking morning.
"This is Dr. Harper," Owen yawned. Wankers. All of them. It was a conspiracy to interrupt his sleep.
The audible sigh of relief in the line made him blink.
"Owen? It's Marissa. From Heath?"
Owen woke further, now recognizing his old colleague's voice. "M, how's A & E at UHW?"
"Busy as usual. Look, I'm sorry to ring at such an hour, but I couldn't find any other number and he kept saying his doctor would fix him and I saw your name on his mobile. Thought perhaps he was a relative or—"
"Hold up." It was too early to absorb the facts. "Who? Doctor? Relative? What you talking about, M?"
"Do you know a James Harper?"
Owen scowled. "Can't say that I do. He claiming to be a relative?"
"No, not that. He was too groggy to be coherent. It was the name he came in with and we checked his mobile for emergency contacts. I saw your name and assumed—"
"Wait…what does he look like?"
"Dark, short hair. Blue eyes, I think. About 1.8, 1.9 meters…"
Owen groaned. "Was he wearing a strange long coat?"
"No. A short flight jacket, actually. Do you know him?"
"Unfortunately." Owen could see his bedmate stirring and he waved a hand in her general direction to shush her. "What's his condition?"
"I don't know."
An eyebrow rose. "You don't know?" Owen repeated. "What do you mean you don't know?"
Marissa sounded clearly annoyed despite the tinny quality of the line.
"He left."
"He left?" Owen sat up in the bed now. He scrubbed his face with a palm. Typical. Something occurred to him.
"Where was he coming from?"
Marissa sounded disapproving. "Caveat. The police were called in to break up a disturbance in the alley behind it. Your friend was brought in and he refused medical treatment. Kept insisting his doctor would come fix him. I checked his mobile and found your number. He had no identification and when I went back, he was gone. Left his mobile with me."
"Fucking brilliant," Owen groaned. He shook his head.
"Look, obviously he was well enough to walk out of here. Owen, I don't mean to lecture, but Jesus, Caveat, Owen—"
"I know, M. I know. Look, I'll drive over and get his mobile. I know where he is. I'll check on him. Thanks for calling me. You're a doll." Owen was reaching down on the floor, looking for his clothes. He wasn't going to bother with a fresh shirt. Not for dragging him out of his warm bed. It wasn't even dawn!
"Is everything alright?"
Owen paused at the sleepy inquiry. He smiled ruefully and twisted around towards her.
"Friend got into a bit of shit," Owen explained as he hopped on one foot, getting a shoe on. "Just going over there. See what he needs." A slap to the back of his head most likely.
"I heard UHW. Was he hurt?" Gwen Cooper sat up, knuckling an eye. "Want me to go with you?"
It was a kind offer, something Owen wasn't used to anymore, so his response was a bit clumsy.
"No. S'alright." Owen patted around his pockets to make sure he had everything. "Just going to go over. Check on him."
"Want me to stay?"
Owen gave it some thought. It would be nice to come back to someone again. His mouth twisted in bitter memory. "Why not?"
Gwen was already falling back to sleep. Her bare shoulder beckoned him above the duvets.
Owen climbed back over his bed and kissed the round joint of her shoulder. Gwen opened one eye and gave him a sleepy smile.
"Be quick."
"I will," Owen promised, mentally cursing his bad luck and late night calls. "I'm just going over. Check to see if he's okay." He paused by the door and looked back at Gwen.
"Then," Owen muttered darkly. "I'm going to kill him."
Owen closed the door on Gwen's baffled, "What?"
There was no traffic thankfully and Owen managed to retrieve the abandoned mobile, what sparse medical notes there were, and the police reports. He read them, glancing occasionally at them on the steering wheel as he headed for the Plass. It didn't look too serious; he was disoriented when the ambulance was called, but he was coherent by the time they arrived at UHW. No visible signs of any internal bleeding. No broken bones. He was alert enough to charm both the male and female PC arriving at the scene.
He still was going to kill him though.
Owen didn't want to let him know he was coming—knowing him, he'd find a Weevil to flirt with—so he discarded the idea of using the lift and just went through the Tourist office.
"Jack?" Owen called out as soon as the cog doors opened. He shrugged out of his jacket, tossed it on Tosh's station as he trotted over to Jack's office. "Oi! You in there?"
"Owen?"
Spinning around, Owen caught Jack climbing up the steps from the medical bay.
Jack looked odd in the more updated wear, dressed in jeans and the jacket Marissa mentioned. With his hair combed back, Jack looked like a virtual stranger. Owen had to fight the instinct to reach for his gun.
"What are you doing back here?" Jack frowned as he stood there at the top of the steps, his arms folded in front of him.
"What were you doing in the infirmary?" Owen shot back, nodding to his space behind Jack.
"You have an alarm for when someone goes in there?" Jack joked. He flicked up a packaged Band-Aid strip as an explanation.
Owen stared at Jack carefully, scrutinizing his captain the way he would a blood sample through a microscope. No visible bruising, or cuts, he decided.
"You left this," Owen said brusquely, tossing his phone over.
Jack caught it easily and understanding dawned.
"Ah." Jack smiled humorlessly and pocketed it.
"You want to tell me anything, James?" Owen drawled, walking over.
Jack stepped around him. He shrugged as he steered for his office and most likely the living quarters below. "Good night?" he said casually as he passed him.
Owen rolled his eyes, glanced over the railing and stiffened at the spots of blood he saw on the gurney.
"Hold it right there!" Owen barked, spinning around. A few short steps and he reached Jack, close enough to grab an elbow before Jack could escape into his office. "I want to check you out!"
"Why, Dr. Harper, I didn't know I was your type."
"Save it, Jack!" Owen nodded angrily towards his area. "As if walking out of the A & E wasn't stupid enough, at least let me examine you!"
Jack looked down at Owen's tight hold, then up to his face. The easygoing smirk dropped. "I'm fine."
"My arse, you're fine!"
"Well, you do need to work on your glutes a bit—"
Owen yanked roughly, pulling Jack back away from his office. He knew once their captain went in there nothing short of a nuclear missile would get him out. "Enough with the jokes! Let me just be sure there's nothing more serious going on!"
Jack darkened. "There's nothing! Things got a little out of hand, but nothing a night's sleep wouldn't heal."
Owen scoffed. "Like you would sleep! Do I have to drug you and tie you up before I can exam—"
The punch came out of nowhere.
Owen staggered, but didn't fall. He smashed a hand over his throbbing right jaw. The room actually tilted for a moment.
"Fuckin—What the hell, Jack?" Owen howled, or tried to—ruddy sod nearly broke his jaw—and pulled his fist back. But when his tearing eyes cleared, his fist hung in mid-air.
Jack stood white-lipped away from Owen, his eyes glazed with what Owen could only compare to the wary gaze of a cornered animal. The captain's fists were up, but Owen doubted Jack really saw who was in front of him.
Owen's fist dropped and the wariness—fear, if Owen ever believed Jack Harkness knew fear—crept back.
"Alright," Owen said carefully, taking a step back to avoid another fist and lowered his. He opened his hands up in a show of surrender. "No one's drugging anyone here. Jack, I just want to take a look."
That fidgety position eased back a bit more. Jack relaxed minutely and his eyes cleared. He looked a little confused as to his whereabouts.
The sight left Owen feeling ill. He worked his jaw as he lowered his hands. He kept his voice low.
"Just a look. Make sure nothing's too bad," Owen approached, his steps minute, his voice low.
If anything, Jack looked bemusedly at him, the previous look gone so quickly Owen wondered for a moment whether he had imagined it.
"You'll do anything to get me naked, huh?" Jack laughed a little too easy. He patted Owen on the shoulder before exhaling a martyr sigh. "Come on. Let's get it over with."
Owen gnashed his teeth at the pat. This is what he gets for being a nice guy. Maybe he should have punched him after all.
Owen had to admit—but never to Jack—that it was just as Jack said. There wasn't any bleeding or tearing—though Owen wondered where the blood had come from—and no sign of any sexual interference. It didn't help matters that Jack kept grinning at him, but even Owen could tell it was only half-hearted; the lines in the corner of his mouth were too deep to be from amusement.
"See?" Jack struggled back into his t-shirt, his head popping through as he continued. "I told them I was fine but they insisted I needed to go to the A & E."
Owen studied him, his mouth pursed. "They said you were dazed in the beginning."
"Hey, I was in the middle of…you know. My attention was elsewhere."
Owen wasn't fooled by the cheeky grin. "At least let me prescribe some antibiotics and take a blood sample."
Jack sobered, his eyes dark when he considered Owen. "They wore condoms, Owen."
Owen gripped the edge of the gurney Jack was on. He didn't like where the conversation was heading. "Jack, did they…I mean were you…forced?"
The startled look Owen received in return assured him.
"What? You think I…" Jack laughed humorlessly. "I wasn't forced into anything. I was asking for it."
Owen had the strange urge to give Jack a shake. "Christ, Jack. Caveat? Of all places—"
Jack gave a shrug as he redid his flies. "Like I said, things got out of hand." He grimaced but didn't offer any details.
"Not a smart thing to do, wouldn't do us any good if the leader of Torchwood was found there." Owen inwardly flinched when Jack stilled.
"I would never compromise Torchwood," Jack said tightly. The smile he gave was strained. "Lost my taste for that place anyway. Don't worry." He hopped off the gurney, gave Owen another pat on the shoulder and went up the steps.
"Wait, I didn't mean…" Owen growled under his breath when Jack left before he could finish. He yanked roughly at the sheets covering the gurney, his face dark when his gaze fell upon the tiny specks of blood again.
"Damn it, Jack," Owen muttered as he fumbled for his mobile.
"It's me. Listen, looks like it might be a bit longer than I thought. No, no, it's fine." Owen checked his watch. He sighed. "Why don't you just go home? I'll see you at work."
Owen ended the call with a bit of regret. He bounded up the steps, giving one last scowl towards Jack's office. He dropped down on the couch with a huff. Owen eyed the office, rolling his eyes at himself. It was pointless to drive back only to head back to work in another four hours. He'd have to get Jonesy to brew him one of Jack's industrial strength coffees.
A groan escaped when Owen remembered. Ianto had left for London last night for a few days. Only instant until Tuesday. Great.
Owen folded his arms, stretched out his legs on the small table in front of the couch. Another grumble—Harkness really owed him—and Owen settled down. He kept one ear open towards Jack's office.
Just in case.
Act II
Additional Notes: Many thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
soullessminion for betaing this chapter. And trtmx for her magic trick that saved my sanity! LOL.
Pairing: Jack/OMC, Jack/?, Jack/Ianto eventually, het and slash
Rating: NC-17 (betaed)
Summary: He left Jack on the game station. Abandoned. But then…he came back…different. An AU look on what happens if things happened differently. Doctor Who 'verse with Torchwood later on. Be sure to read the warnings.
Warnings: Please read each chapter's individual warnings. Some parts down the road may briefly mention non-con, abuse, and/or violence. Dark in the beginning. Please note there are some dark thoughts as my boys are broken…for now. Each chapter will be labeled for your convenience.
Author's Notes: Please note this is an AU that will cross over DW to TW season one. I'm probably spoiling my own story, but it will eventually be Janto. There's a bit of a journey first. I hope you enjoy. I'm working on this and intend to post regularly every other day. And again, I always believe in happy endings. So without further ado…
Disclaimer: RTD and BBC owns them. I'm just borrowing them for a while.
Notes For This Chapter: Note there are parallels to TW's "Greeks Bearing Gifts"
Prologue + Ch , Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch 12, Ch 13,Ch 14, Ch 15, Ch 16, Ch 17, Ch 18. Ch 19, Ch 20, Ch 21, Ch 22, Ch 23, Ch 24
Master Fic List: here
Chapter 25 – "Greeks Bearing Gifts"
Act I
Two days later…
The fact that his phone was ringing now, now, of all times, was either a joke or something to cry about.
He reached out of the duvet, feeling like he was having a bit of déjà vu. It was the only reason why his hand slapped around the table for his cordless and pressed it in the general direction where his ear would be under the thick covers.
But it was still ringing.
Shit, it was his mobile this time. Bloody brilliant.
A sleepy mumble, bare satiny skin brushing against his groin, and an arm next to him warned him if he didn't stop the excessive ringing soon, he was going to have a rotten morning.
A sullen flick of his wrist and the mobile flipped open. He didn't check the number.
"Owen Harper," he grumbled, his eyes still closed.
"Is this Doctor Owen Harper?"
Christ, don't tell him he needed to ask Tosh to unlist his mobile, too. Owen cleared his throat and tried to sound more like a doctor, accustomed to being roused at—Owen checked the time and groaned—one twenty in the fucking morning.
"This is Dr. Harper," Owen yawned. Wankers. All of them. It was a conspiracy to interrupt his sleep.
The audible sigh of relief in the line made him blink.
"Owen? It's Marissa. From Heath?"
Owen woke further, now recognizing his old colleague's voice. "M, how's A & E at UHW?"
"Busy as usual. Look, I'm sorry to ring at such an hour, but I couldn't find any other number and he kept saying his doctor would fix him and I saw your name on his mobile. Thought perhaps he was a relative or—"
"Hold up." It was too early to absorb the facts. "Who? Doctor? Relative? What you talking about, M?"
"Do you know a James Harper?"
Owen scowled. "Can't say that I do. He claiming to be a relative?"
"No, not that. He was too groggy to be coherent. It was the name he came in with and we checked his mobile for emergency contacts. I saw your name and assumed—"
"Wait…what does he look like?"
"Dark, short hair. Blue eyes, I think. About 1.8, 1.9 meters…"
Owen groaned. "Was he wearing a strange long coat?"
"No. A short flight jacket, actually. Do you know him?"
"Unfortunately." Owen could see his bedmate stirring and he waved a hand in her general direction to shush her. "What's his condition?"
"I don't know."
An eyebrow rose. "You don't know?" Owen repeated. "What do you mean you don't know?"
Marissa sounded clearly annoyed despite the tinny quality of the line.
"He left."
"He left?" Owen sat up in the bed now. He scrubbed his face with a palm. Typical. Something occurred to him.
"Where was he coming from?"
Marissa sounded disapproving. "Caveat. The police were called in to break up a disturbance in the alley behind it. Your friend was brought in and he refused medical treatment. Kept insisting his doctor would come fix him. I checked his mobile and found your number. He had no identification and when I went back, he was gone. Left his mobile with me."
"Fucking brilliant," Owen groaned. He shook his head.
"Look, obviously he was well enough to walk out of here. Owen, I don't mean to lecture, but Jesus, Caveat, Owen—"
"I know, M. I know. Look, I'll drive over and get his mobile. I know where he is. I'll check on him. Thanks for calling me. You're a doll." Owen was reaching down on the floor, looking for his clothes. He wasn't going to bother with a fresh shirt. Not for dragging him out of his warm bed. It wasn't even dawn!
"Is everything alright?"
Owen paused at the sleepy inquiry. He smiled ruefully and twisted around towards her.
"Friend got into a bit of shit," Owen explained as he hopped on one foot, getting a shoe on. "Just going over there. See what he needs." A slap to the back of his head most likely.
"I heard UHW. Was he hurt?" Gwen Cooper sat up, knuckling an eye. "Want me to go with you?"
It was a kind offer, something Owen wasn't used to anymore, so his response was a bit clumsy.
"No. S'alright." Owen patted around his pockets to make sure he had everything. "Just going to go over. Check on him."
"Want me to stay?"
Owen gave it some thought. It would be nice to come back to someone again. His mouth twisted in bitter memory. "Why not?"
Gwen was already falling back to sleep. Her bare shoulder beckoned him above the duvets.
Owen climbed back over his bed and kissed the round joint of her shoulder. Gwen opened one eye and gave him a sleepy smile.
"Be quick."
"I will," Owen promised, mentally cursing his bad luck and late night calls. "I'm just going over. Check to see if he's okay." He paused by the door and looked back at Gwen.
"Then," Owen muttered darkly. "I'm going to kill him."
Owen closed the door on Gwen's baffled, "What?"
There was no traffic thankfully and Owen managed to retrieve the abandoned mobile, what sparse medical notes there were, and the police reports. He read them, glancing occasionally at them on the steering wheel as he headed for the Plass. It didn't look too serious; he was disoriented when the ambulance was called, but he was coherent by the time they arrived at UHW. No visible signs of any internal bleeding. No broken bones. He was alert enough to charm both the male and female PC arriving at the scene.
He still was going to kill him though.
Owen didn't want to let him know he was coming—knowing him, he'd find a Weevil to flirt with—so he discarded the idea of using the lift and just went through the Tourist office.
"Jack?" Owen called out as soon as the cog doors opened. He shrugged out of his jacket, tossed it on Tosh's station as he trotted over to Jack's office. "Oi! You in there?"
"Owen?"
Spinning around, Owen caught Jack climbing up the steps from the medical bay.
Jack looked odd in the more updated wear, dressed in jeans and the jacket Marissa mentioned. With his hair combed back, Jack looked like a virtual stranger. Owen had to fight the instinct to reach for his gun.
"What are you doing back here?" Jack frowned as he stood there at the top of the steps, his arms folded in front of him.
"What were you doing in the infirmary?" Owen shot back, nodding to his space behind Jack.
"You have an alarm for when someone goes in there?" Jack joked. He flicked up a packaged Band-Aid strip as an explanation.
Owen stared at Jack carefully, scrutinizing his captain the way he would a blood sample through a microscope. No visible bruising, or cuts, he decided.
"You left this," Owen said brusquely, tossing his phone over.
Jack caught it easily and understanding dawned.
"Ah." Jack smiled humorlessly and pocketed it.
"You want to tell me anything, James?" Owen drawled, walking over.
Jack stepped around him. He shrugged as he steered for his office and most likely the living quarters below. "Good night?" he said casually as he passed him.
Owen rolled his eyes, glanced over the railing and stiffened at the spots of blood he saw on the gurney.
"Hold it right there!" Owen barked, spinning around. A few short steps and he reached Jack, close enough to grab an elbow before Jack could escape into his office. "I want to check you out!"
"Why, Dr. Harper, I didn't know I was your type."
"Save it, Jack!" Owen nodded angrily towards his area. "As if walking out of the A & E wasn't stupid enough, at least let me examine you!"
Jack looked down at Owen's tight hold, then up to his face. The easygoing smirk dropped. "I'm fine."
"My arse, you're fine!"
"Well, you do need to work on your glutes a bit—"
Owen yanked roughly, pulling Jack back away from his office. He knew once their captain went in there nothing short of a nuclear missile would get him out. "Enough with the jokes! Let me just be sure there's nothing more serious going on!"
Jack darkened. "There's nothing! Things got a little out of hand, but nothing a night's sleep wouldn't heal."
Owen scoffed. "Like you would sleep! Do I have to drug you and tie you up before I can exam—"
The punch came out of nowhere.
Owen staggered, but didn't fall. He smashed a hand over his throbbing right jaw. The room actually tilted for a moment.
"Fuckin—What the hell, Jack?" Owen howled, or tried to—ruddy sod nearly broke his jaw—and pulled his fist back. But when his tearing eyes cleared, his fist hung in mid-air.
Jack stood white-lipped away from Owen, his eyes glazed with what Owen could only compare to the wary gaze of a cornered animal. The captain's fists were up, but Owen doubted Jack really saw who was in front of him.
Owen's fist dropped and the wariness—fear, if Owen ever believed Jack Harkness knew fear—crept back.
"Alright," Owen said carefully, taking a step back to avoid another fist and lowered his. He opened his hands up in a show of surrender. "No one's drugging anyone here. Jack, I just want to take a look."
That fidgety position eased back a bit more. Jack relaxed minutely and his eyes cleared. He looked a little confused as to his whereabouts.
The sight left Owen feeling ill. He worked his jaw as he lowered his hands. He kept his voice low.
"Just a look. Make sure nothing's too bad," Owen approached, his steps minute, his voice low.
If anything, Jack looked bemusedly at him, the previous look gone so quickly Owen wondered for a moment whether he had imagined it.
"You'll do anything to get me naked, huh?" Jack laughed a little too easy. He patted Owen on the shoulder before exhaling a martyr sigh. "Come on. Let's get it over with."
Owen gnashed his teeth at the pat. This is what he gets for being a nice guy. Maybe he should have punched him after all.
Owen had to admit—but never to Jack—that it was just as Jack said. There wasn't any bleeding or tearing—though Owen wondered where the blood had come from—and no sign of any sexual interference. It didn't help matters that Jack kept grinning at him, but even Owen could tell it was only half-hearted; the lines in the corner of his mouth were too deep to be from amusement.
"See?" Jack struggled back into his t-shirt, his head popping through as he continued. "I told them I was fine but they insisted I needed to go to the A & E."
Owen studied him, his mouth pursed. "They said you were dazed in the beginning."
"Hey, I was in the middle of…you know. My attention was elsewhere."
Owen wasn't fooled by the cheeky grin. "At least let me prescribe some antibiotics and take a blood sample."
Jack sobered, his eyes dark when he considered Owen. "They wore condoms, Owen."
Owen gripped the edge of the gurney Jack was on. He didn't like where the conversation was heading. "Jack, did they…I mean were you…forced?"
The startled look Owen received in return assured him.
"What? You think I…" Jack laughed humorlessly. "I wasn't forced into anything. I was asking for it."
Owen had the strange urge to give Jack a shake. "Christ, Jack. Caveat? Of all places—"
Jack gave a shrug as he redid his flies. "Like I said, things got out of hand." He grimaced but didn't offer any details.
"Not a smart thing to do, wouldn't do us any good if the leader of Torchwood was found there." Owen inwardly flinched when Jack stilled.
"I would never compromise Torchwood," Jack said tightly. The smile he gave was strained. "Lost my taste for that place anyway. Don't worry." He hopped off the gurney, gave Owen another pat on the shoulder and went up the steps.
"Wait, I didn't mean…" Owen growled under his breath when Jack left before he could finish. He yanked roughly at the sheets covering the gurney, his face dark when his gaze fell upon the tiny specks of blood again.
"Damn it, Jack," Owen muttered as he fumbled for his mobile.
"It's me. Listen, looks like it might be a bit longer than I thought. No, no, it's fine." Owen checked his watch. He sighed. "Why don't you just go home? I'll see you at work."
Owen ended the call with a bit of regret. He bounded up the steps, giving one last scowl towards Jack's office. He dropped down on the couch with a huff. Owen eyed the office, rolling his eyes at himself. It was pointless to drive back only to head back to work in another four hours. He'd have to get Jonesy to brew him one of Jack's industrial strength coffees.
A groan escaped when Owen remembered. Ianto had left for London last night for a few days. Only instant until Tuesday. Great.
Owen folded his arms, stretched out his legs on the small table in front of the couch. Another grumble—Harkness really owed him—and Owen settled down. He kept one ear open towards Jack's office.
Just in case.
Act II
Additional Notes: Many thanks to
soullessminion for betaing this chapter. And trtmx for her magic trick that saved my sanity! LOL.![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-05-08 05:18 am (UTC)Yay, new chapter. I knew Caveat would come to bite us in the ass.
Poor Jack, Ianto come back!
no subject
Date: 2008-05-08 12:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-08 01:16 pm (UTC)I should prob know, but I'm in the middle of finals, and my head is exploding!
no subject
Date: 2008-05-08 02:04 pm (UTC)Good luck on your finals.
no subject
Date: 2008-05-08 02:29 pm (UTC)Poor Jack, *sigh*