The Hunt

Author's Notes:

Ok, yes, this is a long chapter. More than double my usual chapter size, but don't get too excited just yet. You see, it's mostly exposition, to get Ianto and Andy alone, and working together on something important to them both.

When I wrote this, I had one of those days where I get up in the morning, and then come to in front of the computer with lots of words in Open Office. The last time I did that, I ended up with a smutty Jack/Ianto story about paperclips, and I quite liked that. This... it just seems to be – like I said – exposition. Still, knowing what's coming next, I can at least promise that I will make up for it, and that when they do start, there'll be no need to stop them until the end.

Also, the police get a lot of bad press a lot of the time. There are some amazing officers out there, doing a fantastic job, for little gratitude, who despite everything being against them, manage somehow to still do the best that they can. The bit where Andy changes Ianto's mind is dedicated to them in thanks.

Saying that, I also did quite a bit of research on questioning and interview techniques. That's taken the most amount of time, I think: the conversation between Andy and Ianto.

Ianto makes a joke about Owen, but I think that it's in character and so I'm not taking it out. Just a warning if you're easily upset.

With thanks to Kelly for being sharp enough to spot Andy's collar number in Exit Wounds.

Anyway, I'm going to shut up, because I'm about to ramble on for long enough in the fic. I'll just be in a corner, chanting the serenity prayer. It really works for editing – try it.


Chapter Three

“So, you, er... didn't find him then?” Andy had asked. Ianto shook his head slightly.

“There's a window,” Jack said coolly in explanation, jerking his head back at it, obviously not at all bothered to have been caught in the act. Andy followed his nod to stare at the small rectangle of frosted glass and Ianto recovered enough from his mortification to speak.

“There's also a door,” he pointed out meaningfully, just a little bit pissed off and unable to avoid showing it. Andy had the gall to look embarrassed. He gave up on clearing his throat and coughed slightly.

“I, uh, didn't see anyone go out that way,” Andy observed with a rather unwieldy shrug in that yellow jacket, looking anywhere but at the two of them. Ianto shook his head.

“That's possibly because we were still inside,” Ianto shot back with as sharp an edge as he could put to it. Andy threw him an exasperated look and sighed.

“Look. They need to know if the area is clear,” Andy explained apologetically, spreading his hands out wide, palms facing the floor. Ianto took a deep deliberate breath in and brushed past him.

“Yeah. It's gone.” He looked back at Jack to make certain he was following. “Probably long gone by now.” He aimed that last bit at Jack, then found himself looking at Andy again. That moment from earlier came back to him, where he had been staring at Jack in the mirror and thinking how hot it was. Suddenly he realised just why Andy might have stayed around to watch Jack finish. He probably wouldn't have been able to resist it either. Shrugging mentally, he decided at last to just let it pass.

“Is there a back door out of this place?” he asked, walking out of the door first, picking up the hockey stick as Jack passed him his gun.

“Yep. I'll show you,” Andy said, and they allowed him to lead the way down a couple of narrow black-painted corridors with tiny spotlights in the ceiling to a small and unremarkable door – with a padlock. It really shouldn't be padlocked, especially with that Fire Exit sign over it. Ianto shook his head as Jack prepared to shoot the lock from the door.

“Whoa, whoa!” Andy called out loudly. “What is it with Torchwood? Overdo it much?” he asked, giving Jack a look that clearly said he thought the leader of Torchwood was a few swallows short of a pint. Ianto resisted the urge to comment that Jack was the master of overdoing it. “Look what I've got!” He held up a bunch of keys that jangled in front of Jack's nose. “Master set from the owner of the club. You're working with the police now.”

Ianto looked at Jack with a silently alarmed question as Andy unlocked the door in front of them, and Jack shrugged as if he were helpless. With a sigh, Ianto trailed out after Jack through the open door, leaving Andy behind, telling his radio that there was now no requirement for people to be kept out of the club.

They burst out into the cool night air, surrounded by the smell of bitter that wafted up from the closed steel cellar door that was set into the ground. It was about a million times better than the smell in the Gents. By unspoken agreement, they both looked to the left where the window was on the side of the building before looking around them. It was an enclosed square, with just one large entrance on the left of the club from the road that must be used during deliveries. Perhaps it hadn't got that far after all.

Like men with far too much experience they immediately split up and walked around the dark paved square between the buildings carefully, searching for any sign of it. If it had made it out into the street, there would have been trouble. Since there hadn't, it must still be here... somewhere.

“Oh-ho!” There was a kind of shout from one corner, and Ianto realised that Andy had followed them out. He sought for Jack, found him when their eyes met, and in a flash they were both stood at either side of Andy as he stared down at his feet in a kind of nonchalant surprise. The Weevil lay there on its back, unmoving, face turned up to the moonlight, and as luck would have it, the misdirected security light from the back of the club.

“Well, I didn't think it was early enough for that kind of thing,” Andy murmured. Ianto turned his head and stared at him. Andy shrugged, the movement made hulking again by the yellow jacket. “Halloween's a long way off.”

“It's not a mask,” Jack said, and Ianto looked away, preferring seeing the Weevil than Andy, because he knew what was going to happen to Andy after they'd got the Weevil sorted out. Looked like he would be making coffee again when all of this was over.

Jack swiftly knelt by the side of it, and tentatively reached out to check whatever it had that passed for a pulse. “Some kind of horribly disfiguring industrial accident, then?” Andy hazarded hopefully, a distinct lack of sentiment in his comment that made Ianto consider him again.

Jack didn't look around. “No. It's an alien. We call them Weevils.” Jack informed him. Andy's laugh was short, deliberate and only just disbelieving.

“An alien? In Cardiff? Oh, I can just see myself filling in the paperwork on it now. There'd be tons of it.”

Ianto smiled humourlessly. “Tell me about it,” he said, and Jack flashed him an urgent and disapproving glance. Ianto suddenly became righteously annoyed. If Jack could tell the truth, so could he!

“It's still alive,” Jack said, getting the tranquilliser gun and administering a heavy dose of sedative that made no more than a quiet pffft! sound in the dark of the enclosed square. Ianto assumed the policeman's eyes must be about to fall out as Jack pulled a darkened sack from his pocket for the Weevil's head. Actually, he was so convinced of that very thing, it took Jack's sudden glare to make him hear the sound of the radio.

“Charlie Bravo One. This is neighbourhood patrol officer one-eight-six, over.” He had walked away, and was speaking into the radio as Ianto rushed to stand in front of him, blocking his path. The radio buzzed as the policeman came to a surprised halt, and a woman's voice floated out to them.

“One-eight-six, this is Charlie Bravo One. Go ahead, over.” Ianto shook his head desperately as Andy thumbed the button to speak.

“I've run into Torchwood. Should I leave the scene to them, over?” Ianto breathed a sigh of relief as Andy gave him a look that was a question. As the inevitable reply came back over the radio, Ianto spoke over it.

“Don't say anything, because it will mean more than paperwork,” he warned. Andy stared at him for a long moment.

“One-eight-six. Come in. Did you copy that? Ask Harkness for authorisation and withdraw, over.”

There was silence, and Andy continued to stare, as Ianto began to feel slightly self-conscious, suddenly aware of how his torn and bloodied shirt must look as it fluttered around him in the cool night breeze. Jack's blood. He could feel his nipples tightening with the cold, and resisted the urge to pull the shirt around him as he folded his arms over his chest deliberately. Andy smiled. “Four-seven-four-three-one-seven,” Ianto advised with a curt nod.

“Andy?” The voice came over the radio, sounding very uncertain, and Andy thumbed the button to speak, not looking away as Ianto waited to hear what he said.

“Understood, Charlie Bravo One. We have four-seven-four-three-one-seven. Over.”

“That's fine, one-eight-six. I'll let the other officers on the scene know. Over.”

Andy checked his watch, the entire thing looking rather graceless. Ianto secretly began to think those yellow jackets were really awful. “Thanks, Jackie. And with that I'm officially off duty. Over.”

The voice from the radio came back as he and Andy stared at each other for a moment longer. “It's all right for some. You know I'll still be here in the morning when you come in again. Night, one-eight-six. Over and out.”

Ianto felt himself visibly slump a little in relief and they both looked around as Jack joined them with the Weevil slung over his shoulder. He hoisted it with a grunt, and Ianto nodded at the question in his eyes.

“You'd better come with us,” Jack said to Andy, as if it was an invitation instead of an order. He turned away to head out onto the street, then stopped suddenly. “Ianto?” He sounded kind of fearful and a little wary.

“Yes, Sir?”

“Where the hell did we park the SUV?” Ianto managed to keep in an amused laugh. Their chase had taken them all over the city centre before reaching the park and ending at the club. As such, they'd come almost full circle. He let Jack suffer for a second or two.

“About two streets away,” he said, amazed at how efficient he sounded even to himself. He couldn't see it, but Jack's relieved smile was present in his voice as he hoisted the weight of the Weevil on his shoulder again. It wasn't necessary. There were three of them, but Jack did like to take these things upon himself.

“Good!” Jack said happily. “Let's sort this out.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So...” Andy said casually, leaning against the counter while Ianto went through the ritual of making coffee. They had come back and called Owen in so early in the morning it could still technically be termed night. Jack had shown Andy around the Hub and dealt with his questions so far, giving Ianto the chance to shower and to change his clothes. Now he was immaculate again. Ianto tried hard to remember a time when someone had accompanied him in here. No, they never had, until now. He was a little surprised to be followed, and quirked his eyebrow at the door in a kind of silent suggestion.

“Is there something wrong with the conference room?” he asked, mild as ever, wondering if the fact that it was Owen in there rather than Gwen that meant Andy was with him. It didn't escape his quick mind that in the absence of Gwen, he was Andy's choice of company.

“No.” Andy lounged against the counter good-naturedly, watching everything Ianto did. He didn't clarify his statement, but went off in an entirely new direction. “I wouldn't have taken you for the coffee man,” he remarked, and Ianto remembered how he and Jack had appeared outside the club. His shirt had been covered in blood. No. Ianto supposed he hadn't looked the type to patiently wait on others. That didn't mean he was going to let Andy get away with the statement though.

“You wouldn't have taken me,” he pointed out, his voice cool, “and don't call me that.”

“Tea –” Andy began, and Ianto felt it was more than appropriate to cut him off. He must have learned it from Owen already.

“Not that either, thanks.” There was silence between them, and yet the policeman didn't wander off. In his mind, Ianto sighed. He had a retcon pill to manage, and he didn't fancy doing it while the blond man was watching everything he did.

“So...” Andy said again, trying far too hard to be careless, picking up one of the empty white cups that Ianto had perfectly arranged on a tray. “Weevils?” he asked, his voice slightly incredulous.

“You saw it,” Ianto retorted simply, refusing to go down that road, taking the cup from Andy and putting it back with a slightly disapproving glance at Andy’s hands. Wasn't the answering questions and patient explanation thing supposed to be Jack's job? But yet again, Andy refused to be predictable, and his next question took Ianto so much by surprise that he found himself responding with the truth.

“Where is it now?”

“It died,” Ianto said as he lifted the first of the three white cups to the machine, “while Owen was examining it.”

There was silence between them for a moment as the machine made a satisfied gurgling, almost organic noise, and when Ianto had finished, Andy jumped in with another question.

“And what happens next? As the reporting officer, you're aware I'll be filling out some paperwork on it.” He sounded pretty serious. Ianto smiled slightly as he picked up the second cup, and inhaled the scent of the coffee with his eyes closed.

“There won't be a report,” he said firmly, then amended his statement. “Well, except for the archives here.”

He filled the second cup aware all the time of Andy still lounging against the counter. It was almost enough to put him off.

“Has it happened before?” Andy asked when there was quiet again, not challenging Ianto at all about the police report. Again, he was startled into answering truthfully.

“Yes,” Ianto said, frowning, beginning to get that he was being cross-examined and wanting to get away from it, “but, I refer to Owen as 'Doctor Death' for another reason.”

“So it's happened more than once?” Ianto didn't answer this time, and just turned to regard Andy with a bit of suspicion. There was no need for it, really. After all, Andy was going to forget all of this, but Ianto found he didn't like being questioned. Andy smiled reassuringly. “Just clarifying.”

“Yes, well,” he replied, uncomfortable with what was being suggested. It might be true that they got rid of the odd one or two instead of imprisoning them, but the Weevils were more like vermin. Immediately, he realised that Andy wasn't suggesting anything. He himself was just taking it that way, because it was true. “This isn't the 'Born Free' project,” he added dryly as if in justification.

“Oh, yeah,” Andy said, nodding as if it made complete sense. “I mean I can really tell there's no Joy in it.”

Ianto felt more uncomfortable than ever with the conclusions Andy was coming to, and he realised he'd let it slip himself. There had been no leading questions. Still, the sarcasm made him smile slightly, until Jack's impatient voice carried through to them all the way from the conference room. “Ianto!”

Andy tilted his head a little as if to imply Jack. “Or should that be Dian?” Ianto resisted the urge to laugh, and turned back to the machine, picking up the final cup.

“Ianto is fine,” he remarked in amusement. There was silence between them again for a moment, and Andy walked away from the counter a little. When Ianto had finished, he stood with his back to Andy, and it was easy to slip the little pill in there. After all that, it was so very easy really.

“How many unsolved murders are they responsible for, Ianto?” It was the first time the blond policeman had used his name. Now he did it at Ianto's request, and he closed his eyes briefly in silent apology for what he had to do. They couldn't leave him alone with the knowledge. But the question tugged at him too. It was a perfectly reasonable question, even if you weren't a police officer.

“How many of them were women?” Andy continued. “Children?” There was the slightest hint of resentment towards Torchwood in his voice. A kind of weary disappointment. In fact, now Andy's voice held all the compassion it had lacked when he found the Weevil. Cold enough to do the job, compassionate enough for it as well. It was a wonderful, beautiful kind of integrity that made Ianto feel humble. A search for the truth. A desire to do the right thing, even for the dead. “Do you know?” Andy questioned. “Shouldn't it be documented, somewhere, what really happened to them? All of them.”

Taking a deep breath in, Ianto considered. There must be so many. “Yes, it should,” he admitted, his quick mind already leaping forward as he imagined creating a new space in the archives for them. “I can find out.” His eye was drawn down to where the last evidence of the retcon pill bubbled on the surface of the coffee before fading completely. And then there was temptation.

“I can tell you. All you have to do is ask,” Andy said. “It'll be much quicker that way.” Ianto nodded. It would be quicker. “We'll match them up together, and you can keep the information here. Just as long as you keep it.” How could he resist? How could he fail so many by denying this opportunity? Andy was even saying it could be kept here, at Torchwood. Ianto knew what he was about to do, and he hated it, but it had to be done. He turned around slowly with the tray in his hands.

“Have a cup of coffee,” he suggested carefully, and pointed out the retconned one with a nod of his head. “Have that one.” Andy's eyes widened as he realised, and Ianto didn't say anything else, watching as the blond man reached out to the side of the tray he hadn't indicated.

“Since you insist,” he replied, “I think I'll have this one.” He paused before opening the door to let Ianto through with the tray in his hands. “Thanks,” he said deeply. Ianto swallowed. It wasn't over yet by a long way.

“Yep.” He thought for a moment, and then looked into Andy's eyes meaningfully. “Don't mention it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Well, Owen?” Jack asked, when they were all settled around the conference room table, a coffee in front of each of them, except for Owen who wasn't really that good at drinking coffee any more.

“It's nothing out of the ordinary,” Owen said carelessly across from Ianto, throwing his autopsy report onto the table so that its contents spilled out. Ianto was aware that Andy was paying close attention next to him, seated between him and Jack who was at that head of the table. “Just another Weevil. It died of injuries likely sustained by the fall. I mean, do you really have to wake me up every time you kill one together?” Ianto cringed very slightly, sensing Andy's sudden start of attention. “Are you expecting me to take a picture of you both with it or something?”

Ianto couldn't believe one person could let so much slip with just a few sentences. Even he hadn't done that badly. “It's just another boring subject to you, isn't it?” he asked sarcastically, with a conscious little dig at Owen's other identity, safe in the knowledge that Andy knew nothing about it. Owen glared at him, clearly not quite over having been dragged out in the middle of the night to examine a Weevil.

“Ha! Very funny, tea boy,” he answered with more than a little animosity. “Just remind me never to look at your photo album. Or play hockey with you,” he pointed out with a kind of sick smile. Ianto clenched his hands, telling himself he wasn't curious if that was on the autopsy report.

“Stop it!” Jack warned, before Ianto could answer. Somehow, he never seemed as bothered by Owen's taunting. “Ok, Owen, you can go,” he said then. “Me and Ianto will finish up here.”

“Right, thanks,” Owen said, getting up out of his chair with a roll of his eyes, grabbing his jacket from the back of it, leaving the autopsy photographs all over the conference table. “I've gone.”

Soon, he was. They heard the Hub's door open and close as they sat in a silence that wasn't entirely uncomfortable. Ianto stole a glance at Andy, and found him regarding the empty chairs around the table. He drew in a breath to speak, but Ianto beat him to it. “She's not needed,” Ianto said, anticipating the question. Jack picked up on it then with a smirk.

“And it's not as amusing to annoy her,” Jack added, doing all but say out loud that the examination or autopsy was just to irritate Owen. Andy still sat with his mouth open for a second, about to speak, then he just nodded and smiled ruefully, acknowledging the truth of the statement. Ianto felt himself smirk a little as he sipped at his coffee. Coffee. He tried to get comfortable in his chair, but suspected it wasn't possible.

“So, what now?” Andy asked at last of Jack. Ianto watched them. Jack sat back in a kind of cocky confidence. The Captain in him could never resist this bit.

“We wait,” he said, and then nodded down. “How's your coffee?”

Andy just smiled back and raised the cup in a kind of salute while Ianto felt the colour drain from his face a little bit. Had he really done it? “Really good, thank you,” Andy said. “Invigorating.” There was a long minute where Jack and Andy stared at each other. Jack blinked first. Extremely slowly. He shook his head a little.

“No,” he murmured, gripping the edge of the table, staring down at his own coffee in realisation, then that blue gaze switched to Ianto. “Ianto!” he said in alarm. He didn't know what he'd meant to do when it came to this. Pretend it had been accidental, maybe. But now it was here, he just couldn't, and he remained frozen in his seat as he looked back at Jack.

“I'm sorry,” he said quietly.

“Sorry?” Jack echoed, then did that extended blinking thing again before he got it. His chair scraped on the floor as he pulled himself heavily to his feet. “Sorry!?”

That made Ianto get up as well, Andy completely forgotten as he saw Jack waver unsteadily on his feet. He rushed over, already reaching out to help. “Jack, I really think you should –”

“Sorry?” Jack said again in shock, looking up at him from where he was leaning forward with his hands on the table. Suddenly he made a visible effort and stood up straight, taking Ianto's upper arms in a strong grip. “You wouldn't do this to me,” Jack said, as if it had to be true. Ianto winced. “I just know you wouldn't. Not on purpose.”

Ianto had no answer at all, and he swallowed as he tried to avoid Jack's intense gaze. “Why?” Jack asked in disbelief. “Why would you...” his voice suddenly trailed off, and Ianto found himself with his arms full of Jack Harkness. He was heavier than he looked.

“Quick!” Ianto called out to Andy urgently, struggling to keep them both stood up. “Help me with him!” To his relief, Andy was soon helping him to lower Jack to the floor. At last he'd removed the yellow jacket and turned it inside out to the soft navy blue quilted lining and bundled it up into a makeshift pillow that he placed behind Jack's head.

“What is it?” Andy asked, studying Jack like a doctor. Probably first aid training. Ianto swatted his hands away.

“Just an amnesia pill,” he explained quickly, “but it's a sedative as well. This one is particularly quick-acting. Harmless, really.” Andy nodded, but Ianto was watching Jack, who suddenly opened his eyes again and lifted a hand as if searching for something. Ianto held Jack's hand to his face.

“Ianto...” he murmured.

“It's all right,” Ianto said soothingly. Jack's other hand came up, and before long Ianto found himself sprawled on the floor at the side of him, patiently allowing Jack to pull his face closer to look at him. There was such a look in his eyes. Ianto found himself thinking that Jack was kind of cute like this, fighting the sedative. In fact, he began to wonder if Jack could resist it altogether and stay awake, just like this. Not that he was thinking of taking advantage. Of course not.

“Ianto...” Jack said again, fuzzily, as if concentrating. He smiled then, suddenly realising Ianto was before him, in his hands. He took a breath. “You're fired.”

Ianto tried to nod, but Jack's hands wouldn't let him move his head. “Yes, Sir,” he replied, then bit his lower lip as he considered apologising again. Maybe not while Jack had hold of him.

Jack's eyes narrowed, and then widened. “Really!” he almost shouted, and then looked rather upset and regretful as his fingertips tangled in Ianto's hair and stroked the side of his face. “I really, really mean it this time.”

“It's all right, Sir,” Ianto reassured him smoothly, shaking his head, kind of loving the way his lips touched on Jack's palms, “you won't remember that bit.”

“You'll remind me,” Jack said firmly, still commanding even when he was fighting it. “And...” he looked lost for a second. “Ianto, did I... just...” He sighed in the most adorable way, and Ianto thought he might be ready to promise Jack anything at that moment. “Did I just fall into your arms?”

“Yes, you did,” Ianto said, lowering his eyes since he couldn't nod, and finding himself staring at Jack's lips.

“Good. Was I...?” His eyelids fluttered. “It...?”

The smile Ianto came out with turned into a little laugh when he realised what Jack was asking him. Even now, when he was about to lose his fight with the retcon. Vanity. It was so Jack, and he couldn't help but love it. “It was beautiful,” he said in certainty, answering the question as Jack pulled him closer still. Whether that was intended, or if it was just that he couldn't keep his hands raised was debatable, but either way it ended in a kiss that Ianto found himself directing more than his fair share of.

“Nice...” Jack said when Ianto pulled back, licking his lips with his eyes closed. A steely glint of blue showed under his eyelashes. “You're still fired.” Then he was out.


To be continued...

Author's Note: If you're still with me, thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it.