FIC: Faithful, 4/33?

[loveslashangst]

Story: Faithful
Author: Melinda Kitty melindakitty
Characters: Captain Jack Harkness, Captain John Hart, Ianto Jones
Rated: oh, so Adult for slash, bisexuality, mature content, language, violence, and lots and lots of sex (multiple pairings/groupings)
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, 'cause if I did there would be no doubt who Jack came back for, Gwen would stick with the man who loves her, we'd have regular doses of Unexpected!John, and everyone would cheer the f*** up and stop being so angsty.
Spoilers: AU. If you haven't seen the first two series of Torchwood, you WILL be spoilered. I like to mess with canon, especially when it pisses me off. The PROLOGUE takes place right after "Countrycide" in series 1. The rest of the story, from Chapter 1 on, takes place about three weeks after "Exit Wounds", the end of Series 2.
Summary: Torchwood OT3 ZOMG! Jack/John/Ianto. The Rift is active, the Weevils are acting weird, and Captain John Hart is back in town. Let the crack-tastic smut ensue. I think there's a happily ever after in here somewhere, but until then, enjoy the insanity.

If you want to get a lot of the inside jokes in this chapter, read my Fifty Things Captain John Hart Learnt. I'm unapologetically self-referential. (See especially: 28-31 and 38-40)

Special thanks to Leda and kettish for taking a first look and ophymirage for going above and beyond the call of duty despite a hectic week. LOVE DA BETAS!!

"You!
You're driving me crazy!
What did I do?
What did I do?"
(Frank Sinatra)

(In which Jack tries not to remember, Gwen's having none of it, John makes himself at home, and Ianto fires a warning shot.)



Jack glares again into the rear-view mirror. John has been humming happily to himself for the entire ride, which places Jack in a quandary he'd find amusing if it were anyone else: if he ignores John, the bastard will just keep pretending he doesn't know how obnoxious he's being; if Jack calls him on it, John will know he's getting to him and therefore not only continue to hum, but likely continue more loudly and less tunefully.

It's like dealing with a heavily-armed five-year-old.

Okay. When in doubt, manipulate with humour. Jack relaxes his death grip on the steering wheel. "You always did have a lovely singing voice."

That shuts up the humming. (Thank God.) "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." Jack shrugs. "Just... As long as you're here, we could always revive the --"

"No." When he glances in the rearview mirror, John's eyes have narrowed. "Bring that up, friend, and as the masked man in the opera cape says, it will be war between us."

Jack grins at him. They lapse into an uncomfortable, if less irritating, silent standoff for the rest of the trip. Nothing like a little applied psychology when dealing with John.

Ianto raises an amused eyebrow at the whole exchange. (The only thing worse than having your psycho ex and your lover at each other's throats, is having your lover find your psycho ex amusing -- and he can't believe Ianto is being this wilfully oblivious to how dangerous John really is.)

After leaving the SUV in its usual parking place -- and ignoring yet another gleeful tweak from John about knowing exactly where and how the vehicle should be positioned (frickin' backseat driver) -- they head for the shop entrance to the Hub.

John beats them in. Snatches up two stacks of tourist maps. Hops up on the counter. Pretends to be interested in the front cover of the map on top. Kicks his feet against the desk like the ADHD toddler he can be. Reaches around backward without looking to hit the switch that opens the false door. Smiles knowingly at Ianto as the door lock engages on the external door and the internal door opens, leading to the path to the Hub.

And for the first time since Ianto lowered his weapon, Jack senses a bit of annoyance from his assistant. The kid straightens, shoulders stiff, the muscles tightening in his jaw.

Jack files that away for future reference; if you really want to annoy Ianto, leave one of his cleverly-crafted fronts untidy. The shop's been his baby ever since he joined the team.

He can never be sure how far ahead John thinks, because John seems to sense that he's crossed a line. With an almost apologetic look ("Sorry to tweak your nose, Eye-Candy, but it was too good to resist") John slides off the counter. Uses its surface to carefully tap the maps back into two neat piles. Arranges them just so.

Beside Jack, Ianto relaxes slightly.

And it's Jack's turn to raise an amused eyebrow. "Keep it up," he says to John, "and I'll have you doing windows."

"I could," says John. "But you look better in--"

"Let's go," Jack cuts him off quickly. (Oh dear GOD don't let John bring that little fetish up in front of Ianto...) "Time's wasting."

As always, the wet, vaguely mildewed smell of the inner passage seeps its way into his nose. (Damn, he really should reconsider his vow not to exploit recovered alien tech for his own convenience; at some point they really will need to waterproof the place a little better. Unsanitary. Not to mention that it's hard to take a super-secret hideout seriously when the main entrance smells like an abandoned sewer.)

John follows at a leisurely stroll as they pause to wait for the armoured door to roll back. "I still have it, you know," John says. "Back in the future."

He is NOT going to blush. (Nor is he going to admit that he kept the garters.) "You said the future's been interrupted."

John chuckles. "True, which means the thought of regaining that little beauty is more than enough to spur me to action." He heads first through the portal, Jack and Ianto following. "Couldn't bear to part with it, really. Even if things ended badly between us, it was still fun while it lasted."

And for the second time in less than twenty-four hours, John's goaded him into losing his contemporary English. "I'U mntoin tha gin," Jack warns very slowly in Neo-Standard, "I wil kiil U."

Behind him, the twin barred gates swing shut and the klaxon finally relents.

John gives a graceful (and thoroughly insincere) bow. "Duly noted... Captain."

John turns right into the barrel of Gwen's gun. Bruises his mouth. Yelps. Gives Gwen what is undoubtedly a lethal glare. "Watch it!" John's voice is muffled behind one hand. "You might hurt someone with that thing."

Not surprisingly, Gwen doesn't back down, though a brief smile flickers across her face and is gone. "So I'll assume Vera here is the reason I haven't been able to reach you for the past hour, shall I?"

"Gwen," Jack says, calmly. "Put the gun away." And the reference is too good to resist. "After all, Vera's here to help."

"That's John to you, Big Boy." John cricks his neck to one side, then to the other. "Or Captain Hart, if you're determined to be a dick about it."

Gwen sneaks Jack a quick glance. He gives her a serious look. She glares back at John. "So what's it this time? Hypnotic eye-shadow? Subliminally suggestive blush? Mind-control deodorant?"

John doesn't help anything by giving her a slight bedroom-eyed look and holding his hands up in mock submission. "You're wasted here, you know. Ever consider a career in the pharmaceutical industry?"

Gwen advances a step. "Shut up, you, or so help me, I will shoot you!"

John again puts his hands on the back of his head, which only accentuates the lean lines of his body. (He's doing it on purpose, the bastard.) "Anything you say, P.C. Cooper."

"Stand down, Gwen." Jack aims the voice straight at her. She looks at him, wide-eyed with a whole coterie of emotions. And it's not until that moment that he remembers he's not the only one who lost people he loved because of this arrogant criminal.

Gwen's glock doesn't waver. "He blew up half the city, Jack."

"As I keep telling you people, that wasn't my fault," says John.

Gwen advances until the barrel of the gun presses against John's forehead. "It's because of you that Tosh is dead."

John doesn't blink. "It's because of me that any of you are still breathing -- except for Jack, who we've already established can't stop breathing if he tries." His jaw tightens a little. "It's because of Gray that your friends are gone, but do you put a bullet in his head? Oh no, nice comfy drawer and permanent frozen storage for him."

"He does have a point," says Ianto softly.

"We are not discussing this." Jack comes close enough to Gwen that if push comes to shove, he can snatch the gun away before she can fire. "Put the gun away right now."

Gwen, being Gwen, gives him the evil eye.

She misses John's expression of confident amusement. "I see," says John, "that the ankle biter's temperament hasn't improved any."

Jack gently pushes Gwen's hands down. "Trust me." He looks to John. "Tell her about Kapo Weevils."

"Right," says John. (It's pointless to tell him not to be so smug.) "Ooh! To the BRIEFING ROOM!" He jogs off, enthusiastic. Stops. Notices that everyone's staring at him like he's lost his mind. "What? This is an official briefing, so let's have it in the nifty TV room with all the swank chairs."

This time, Jack can't help but share Ianto's silent amusement. Gwen sullenly uncocks her gun and follows up to the Briefing Room.

John settles into the comfy chair closest to the monitors with a happy sigh. "Kapo Weevils." He puts first one boot-clad foot up on the table, then the other. "Well, Gwen, Kapo is actually a human term applied to them. Dunno what they're really called because it's usually kind of hard to ask them without getting your face chewed off, though the one we saw today seemed quite the affable fellow."

"'Kapo' is a World War II reference, isn't it?" says Ianto.

"Yet ANOTHER point to you, Eye-Candy." John snatches a piece of hard candy from the bowl on the table and lobs it to Ianto. "My God, I need to leave more often. You're what, five for five now?"

Ianto catches the candy, looking quietly pleased until Jack glares at him, then he pockets the piece guiltily.

Something about the bribe helps Jack put two and two together. "The Concentration Camps."

"That's better." John lobs him another piece of candy. Looks a little insulted when Jack lets it bounce off his chest. "I'd hoped absolute power hadn't made you completely stupid," John continues. "Yup. Prisoners bribed into policing other prisoners. A sick Nazi reward system designed to divide and conquer people who, if I'd been in charge, would've been banding together to kick the collective asses of their captors."

Gwen holsters her weapon. "Would've thought you'd fit right in as a Nazi. You'd look good in the uniform."

Some time or other, Jack will HAVE to remind his team that baiting John is pointless.

"Ahhhhhhhhhh," John drawls. "So now you're keeping track of my wardrobe, are you? Hardly appropriate for a married woman."

(Trust John never to miss a trick.)

"I never said I was married."

Gwen's blush only amuses John more. "I noticed. Has Jack noticed too? I don't remember him poaching other men's wives -- leaping out of windows is really only fun in vids -- but things change." He looks intrigued. "Unless you three have some kind of arrangement?" He moistens his lips slowly. "And if you do, there's always room for one more, isn't there... Jack?"

(He is not thinking about Gwen. Not thinking about John. Not thinking about how lovely they'd be with a chaser of Ianto...)

Ianto clears his throat, saving Jack from an ill-considered retort and an even more uncomfortable silence. "So if Kapo humans were prisoners that policed other prisoners..."

"Right." John reluctantly relaxes the bedroom-eyed look at Gwen. "Kapo Weevils were specially bred to police other Weevils. Overseers, if you like. The slave metaphor is appropriate because I've never met a Weevil who drew a salary."

Ianto sits in the chair closest to the door. "What are Weevils, Captain?"

And no matter how hard Jack clamps down on his long-fettered libido, his body reacts to John's billion-credit grin. "Now THAT is the fifty trillion dollar question, isn't it?" John says. He looks to Jack, expectant. "We've hinted and mentioned and danced around it, Jack, but you know they won't believe me -- not after all the stunts I've pulled -- so let's hear it out of your own mouth: What? Is? A? Weevil?"

Secrecy has been his watchword for so long that it's hard to just let go. "The timeline..."

John wads up a sheet of paper and throws it at him. "Come on, man. The timeline's shot to hell already. I went back to my own time and found that humanity had been erased from the universe so would you PLEASE quit with the I'm-so-responsible-now-angst and tell them what Weevils are?"

He struggles to find the right words.

"Jack." John's eyes are uncharacteristically sober. "They have a right to know what they're fighting and -- in Eye-Candy's case -- bleeding for."

Gwen shoots Ianto a look. He waves away her concern. "Later."

Jack sits heavily at the table. "Weevils are part of an advanced guard designed for the conquest of alien worlds. They're footsoldiers."

"Blaster fodder." John nods. "Bred like cattle. Housed like sardines. Fed on each other like piranha until they're half mad with pain and grief and hunger, then sent down to a planet to soften up the population before the Cythraul land." The laugh lines crinkle at the corners of his eyes. "Oh, and now you get to tell them about Cythraul too."

Ianto leans forward, hands folded on the table. "But the Weevils have been here for years without any widespread attacks." He glances at Jack. "Haven't they?"

John shrugs. Takes one foot off the table, which only draws the eye to his crotch. "The ones you've seen are deserters. Victims of the Rift, I'll wager. Accidents in time. It'd be like judging the army based on the poor scraggly bastards who went AWOL."

Ianto's mouth falls open. "But now the Kapo's rounding them up."

Another grin. "Sorry for the gun to the head thing, Eye-Candy," says John. "I get a little territorial where Jack's concerned and mistook you for just another nice piece of ass."

"So how many Weevils are there?" Gwen says, half to herself.

Ianto looks thoughtful. "We have five hundred and fifty-four in the cells, but that's only the ones who came to the surface. Jack?"

"There could be thousands," he admits. Ever since the Gray incident, Weevils seem to be more plentiful than ever.

Gwen sits beside Ianto. "So you're telling me that Weevils are some kind of advance soldier for an invading alien army and there's something called a Kapo that's rounding them up and getting them organized?"

"Yup." John lobs her a congratulatory piece of candy, which she ignores at first. (Though Jack notes that she secrets it away as John continues.) "And if I hadn't seen the future -- or, more correctly, the LACK of future -- for myself, I would've left you kids to your own devices. And as to W.P.C. Cartwright's question, since she's being so uncharacteristically patient and polite, I've only found two definite Cythraul signatures. If we're unbelievably lucky, they're victims of the Rift like the Weevils. But if we're not, they have at least one Kapo and -- if they're also not completely stupid -- they probably have designs on the table to find a way to phone home and bring the rest of the fleet through."

Gwen sits back in her chair, eyes wary. "Why should we believe a single word you say?"

The main screen lights up, displaying new readouts from one of Toshiko's monitors on a CGI map.

Gwen glances at it. "I suppose that'll be more Weevil sightings?"

Circles pop up all over the map.

"Dammit." Jack gets to his feet. Hesitates. (If he lets John stay...)

John puts his other foot down. "You're wondering which is the lesser of two evils: take me with you so you can keep an eye on me and risk my bollocksing up whatever mission you're on, or leave me here in your super-secret base where all your skeletons are congregated. I keep telling you, Jack: you've never seen me when I'm not on someone else's leash." He leans forward, hands on the table. "I can help you."

"I'll stay with him," says Ianto.

John laughs. "I'll eat you alive."

The concussion of gunfire blasts through the room. A bullet sinks into the wall an inch from John's head. Startled, he's on his feet in a flash, both pulse pistols drawn.

Ianto holds his gun level. "I can handle myself, if need be."

And Jack has never loved him more. He reads Ianto's face and finds there only quiet confidence.

Gwen represses a smile as she stands.

Jack glances back at John, who jams his pistols back in their holsters, posturing as though Ianto didn't just startle the hell out of him. Jack nods. "Okay. As long as the two of you are stuck with each other, go over every detail of our meeting with the Kapo. See if you can make sense of what was said and what was done and all the data I know John has in that little symbiont of his -- yes, John, it's your turn to do some explaining. Most importantly, when Gwen and I return from what I assume will be a wild goose chase, I'll expect you two to have some ideas about how we're going to rescue the future."

"Yes, sir." Ianto places his gun on the table. Meets John's eyes with an unflinching look. "Can do."

John raises an eyebrow. Settles back into his seat. Adjusts himself.

Gwen rolls her eyes. "C'mon, Jack. Work to do."

XXXXX

As soon as John's ex and the lovely little plonk he's adopted leave the room, Eye-Candy pockets the gun and gets to his feet. "Please follow me, Captain."

"So polite. I love that." John bounces to his feet. "Where are we going?"

"Jack's office," Eye-Candy says. "I have some unanswered questions."

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Crossposted to jackxianto and torchwoodslash