Fic, FAITHFUL, Ch. 32/60: The Last-Minute Preparations

[loveslashangst]

Story: Faithful
Author: Love! Slash! Angst! loveslashangst
Beta: the DONE WITH SCHOOL W00T! ophymirage
Characters: Ianto Jones, Captain Jack Harkness, Gwen Cooper, Captain John Hart, Rhys Williams, Janet the Weevil, Bradwyn Kapo, & a cast of (literally) thousands.
Rated: Adult for slash, canon bisexuality, non-gratuitous drug use, language, and lots and lots of sex (various pairings and kinds.)
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, 'cause if I did, Torchwood 3 would be a much more crack-tastic place.
Spoilers: 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.
Summary: AU. OT3 ZOMG! Jack/John Hart/Ianto. Captain Hart is back in town. The Weevils are acting weird. It might be the end of the world. Let the crack-tastic smut ensue.

Okay, so here's the dealio...

I'm going home. The other home. The one I said I wasn't going back to. Things have gotten VERY complicated, but now that the decision's made, they're also easier. I'm clinging to this fic (and the community it's created) because it helps me keep my sanity.

Thank you for being you. The reviews on the last chapter were some of the best and most literary I've gotten. My fen never fail to renew my confidence in myself and my ability to tell a compelling story (with a hefty dose of smut.)

On with the show...

"This ole house is a-gettin' shaky
This ole house is a-gettin' old
This ole house lets in the rain
This ole house lets in the cold
On his knees I'm gettin' chilly
But he feel no fear nor pain
'Cause he see an angel peekin'
Through a broken windowpane...

"This ole house is afraid of thunder
This ole house is afraid of storms
This ole house just groans and trembles
When the night wind flings its arms
This ole house is gettin' feeble
This old house is needin' paint
Just like him it's tuckered out
But he's a-gettin' ready to meet the saints..."
(Rosemary Clooney)

(In which Ianto performs an assist, John gets an upgrade, Gwen does an end-run, Rhys stands up, Jack is knocked down, and everyone is thrown for a loop.)



Ianto leans on the console. Hands John another tool with an appallingly long name. (Everything used to fix this vehicle seems to involve blinky lights and high-pitched buzzing.) He no longer tries to remove John's hand from his thigh because near as Ianto can tell, prepping the ship for flight and feeling him up are linked actions in John's mind (and libido.)

John runs a hand up from his knee and cups him absently through his trousers. Doesn't take much for that man to reduce him to wanton lust, even if John is only half-concentrating. (And there is something wrong with him that he envies the mini-flashlight John holds in his teeth and aims with deft flicks of his tongue.) The split-focus only makes it worse -- pricking Ianto's ego enough to make him want John's full attention. Moreover, he blames all of this on Jack, who's spent the last few months cultivating him into an unabashed nymphomaniac.

And isn't it a dire indicator of how far the mighty have fallen, that after witnessing the horror of the Weevils’ sacrifice, and the Kapo's epiphany, all he can think about is how much he'd like to shag (or be shagged by) the loose-cannon ex-lover of his boss.

But then again, is that what John really is to him? If these memories -- which he's really only had a few spare minutes to sort through -- are true, John was his first male lover. And, had circumstances been different...

"There." Eyes intense, John stands slowly, sliding up Ianto's front until they're groin-to-groin, mouth to mouth. "Should be the last of it."

"S-space worthy?" That bloody stammer comes out at the worst times. Somewhere between Brad's decimations and John petting him, he’s lost the mojo he'd found during their little game.

"As worthy as I can make her." John insinuates himself between Ianto's legs, pinning him to the console. And for a moment, he falls into the intoxication that is letting John kiss him like he means it.

John kisses and tongues his way over to Ianto's ear. His hands are hot and insistent at Ianto's back. The man's deliberation is a turn-on in and of itself -- Ianto finds himself clinging to him out of dizzy desperation. Jack is all flirt and tease and come-on. John will simply let him know, with undeniable and delicious insistence, that he'd really like to fuck RIGHT NOW. Ianto should find this too blunt. It should be too arrogant. It should make him want to politely but firmly push him away and remind him of the dire situation they're theoretically in.

Instead, he's strongly tempted to rip off the t-shirt and find the zip of John's borrowed jeans.

"Soon as we're off this rock," John murmurs. "I'm going to shag you in ways you've never imagined."

He fists his hands in the t-shirt at the thought. Seeks John's mouth again. The console bruises the backs of his thighs. He really should care about that, and he might do, were not John's mouth so deliciously insistent. As it is, he's strongly considering...

"I think we should start a pay-per-view website," says Jack, trailing Rhys and Gwen behind him as he comes into the cockpit. "Could make a fortune off all the male-on-male action around here. You may want to borrow the salve from my top drawer before the first showing, though..." A confiding look as Jack stage-whispers, "Prevents chafing."

He reluctantly breaks the kiss with John. Tries and fails to feel guilty. (John's fingers kneading their way up his spine make him feel as if his whole body is tuned to his lover's, a sexual resonance.) "Ship's ready for takeoff, sir," he manages.

Jack smirks. (Were there a smirking match for the entire British Isles, Jack would win handily.) "Is that what you're calling it?"

John holds him firmly when he tries to move away. Slips a possessive arm around his waist to pull him closer. Challenges Jack with a look before giving Ianto one more deep kiss.

"Pay him no mind, my love," says John. "He's just jealous that he got Weevil prep while we got the cockpit."

He cups John's face in his hands. Kisses him briefly. Slides out of his grip. "So," he says to Jack, "Is Brad joining us up here?"

Jack shakes his head no. Hard to tell if he's watching so intently because he's annoyed, or simply doing his usual undressing-with-the-eyes. Either way, it takes a conscious effort not to squirm. "Said he preferred the company of his fellows."

John tucks one of those tools back into the space-age toolbox. "That hold will be all ravenous females soon enough." He snorts wryly. "Our Bradwyn's either a selfless bastard or a ladies' man. Either way, I neither envy him nor regret having him out of my hair." He comes up behind Ianto. Starts kissing his neck and reaching for his--

"UNIT," Ianto says abruptly. "Were you... able to contact them?"

"That was next on the agenda," says Gwen.

Rhys's smirk could almost match Jack's. "Thought we should check in first."

John's body tenses against his. "Oh, you're bloody kidding me."

"I beg your pardon," says Gwen, huffy. "We--"

"We are not." John pushes away from him. "No. No. Absolutely not." He begins to pace, furious. "Do you have a fucking death wish? I can't... No... Now where the fuck am I supposed to get that?"

Ianto looks to Jack.

"He's arguing with his symbiont," Jack says, as though that's supposed to explain everything.

"Bugger off, Jack," John snaps. Then he straightens, grinning. "Oh. Yes. Right. Of course. Fuck of a long walk, though. Short-range back online?... Yes? Good. Heat it up."

John raises his wrist strap. Touches a few buttons. Disappears in a flash of light.

And for a moment, the four of them just stare at each other.

"All in favour of hunting him down and killing him?" says Rhys.

Four hands go up. (His, only because now he has to brazen his way through another near-constant erection around his co-worker and her husband.)

"Ianto?" Jack looks like he's trying very hard not to laugh as he lowers his hand. "He should be rooting around in the Med Bay."

"Why?" Then it hits him. "Addict. Right. What was he talking to again?"

"Symbiont." Jack's checking over the controls. His eyebrows fly up in appreciation. "Nice work." He touches a few more places. "John has a living symbiont implanted in his chest just below the liver. It processes information, neutralizes poisons--"

"Like in the 'coffee'." This actually makes perfect sense.

Jack grins. "That was good, wasn't it? Anyway, it's like a supercomputer... erm... slug. Sort of. Less slimy. Larger. They eat toxins, so they tend to be addicted to something. Or lots of somethings."

He's already halfway to the door. "The dispensary?"

"Good man," Jack calls after him. "And no shagging on the gurney, okay? Time's wasting."

His cheeks are burning, though he calls back, "Wouldn't anyway. Reeks of formaldehyde." By the time he hits the rusty stairs down out of the spaceship, a thought strikes him. He taps on his headset. "Jack? Call Martha while you're waiting for us."

"Martha?" Jack always did vacillate between efficiency and cluelessness.

"UNIT," he says. "Ask for guns and lots of soldiers."

"Will do," Jack sounds much more cheerful, as he will anytime firepower or armed conflict are involved. "Oh, and Ianto?"

"Sir?" He takes the hallways back at a fast dogtrot, relying on his internal compass and his memory of the schemata for this part of the Hub.

"You did get him to promise to shag you in ways you've never imagined, right?"

"Yes, sir." He really should be much more mortified than he is. (Though undoubtedly he will be if it involves Gwen and Rhys watching.) "Soon as we're off this rock."

"Cool. Do you want me to help, or do I just get to play voyeur?"

"Sir?" One more turn and he'll be back to familiar catacombs. Should be only another few minutes' run back to the Hub proper. "Martha."

"Well, that would be fun too." Now Jack's just being an arse. He can hear Gwen laughing in the background. (Bastard probably has him on speakerphone.)

"Sir." He uses the same calm tone that made John obey him earlier. "Call UNIT, please."

"I love you too, honey." The hands-free beeps to indicate end of call.

And, as is so frequently the case with Jack, Ianto can't decide if he's annoyed, amused, touched, aroused, or some vexing combination of all of the above. It would help if he didn't love the man.

As he approaches the med bay, the sounds of someone rummaging confirm Jack's and his suspicions. "Gianni?" he calls.

"Down here, darling," John calls back. "Sorry for the rude exit, but the worm has me by the balls. Won't do the calculations and navigation unless I cough up some dopamine, vitamin B-12, and medical-grade adrenaline. I've explained that this stone-age apothecary doesn't have any proper drugs like phytometh, but your doctor did hoard some interesting recreational substances."

He jogs down the spiral staircase, wishing he could act surprised. (Owen always did fancy uppers while on the job and downers after hours. Made him that much more of a prick, but Jack would never put a stop to it because Owen was too good at what he did.) "Did you find what you need?"

"Yup." John opens a plastic package. Peels out a syringe with an ENORMOUS needle. Raises his shirt. Grabs the syringe with both hands. SLAMS it into his chest, just below the ribs. Grits his teeth against the scream. Depresses the plunger.

"FUCK!" John yanks the needle out. "I fucking HATE fucking needles." He tosses the syringe aside, glaring down. "And don't whine to me, you demanding little shit. You KNOW they don't have sonic hypos yet."

Ianto blinks, stunned, as what he thinks must be a muscle in John's abs starts to spasm rapidly. Queasily, he realizes that the "muscle” is something just below the skin. Something that writhes like it's alive.

John smiles reassuringly at him. "Sorry, love. That was the last of it. Little bastard--" he pounds the left side of his ribcage with one fist "--should be able to synthesize the rest." He grabs a small flask of something. Bolts it in three fast swallows.

"What was that?"

When John kisses him, he tastes of sweet liquor. "Cherry vodka, if I'm not mistaken," he replies. "Not exactly the real stuff, but Owen always struck me as a bit of a chav."

He lets the comment slide, though it irks him to be mocking the dead.

A warm hand on his cheek. "Don't sulk, darling," says John. "The poor undead fellow couldn't help it if he had lousy taste in alcohol. Now hang on tight." He glares down one more time. "NO, you may NOT have any more spicy prawn."

White light surrounds them, and suddenly they're back in the cockpit of the spaceship.

Not surprisingly, Gwen and Jack have found something to argue about while they were gone.

"-- are NOT going to just hole up here and wait for them to come get you!" Jack is shouting.

"It's not me they're after!" Gwen shouts back. "You said so yourself! And who was it held off the Daleks while you were out and about with that little blonde bird and the alien you've got a hard-on for?"

"If this place hadn't been time-locked..." Jack retorts.

"But it was, and even if it hadn't been, Ianto and me would've done what we always do -- guard your back and cover your arse!" Gwen is in full hands-on-hips snit.

"We should've brought popcorn," John murmurs.

Ianto waves him quiet.

Jack looks on the verge of tears or violence. "I can NOT in good conscience leave you behind. Do you know what those--?"

"Jack." Gwen steps back. Laces her fingers with Rhys'. "I'm staying here. With my husband."

The high, angry flush on Jack's cheeks is like a blow to Ianto's gut. He'd been telling himself Jack would get over Gwen. That they'd come to some kind of agreement. That someday he'd give his whole heart to someone willing to love him back.

But this is no fairytale, is it?

Jack glares at Rhys. "You're a civilian."

"Oh don't you go turning your anger on me, Jack Harkness," says Rhys. "Should've known when push came to shove, you'd be thinking with the little head."

Jack lunges. Gwen catches him with a hand to the chest. "I'm a professional, Jack. Cop first, remember? That means I wade into the middle of shit and re-establish order. I can handle m'self, if you let me."

Jack grips her shoulders in a way that goes through Ianto's gut like a cold knife. "I can't lose you."

He thought he'd repressed any sound, but John puts a comforting arm around his shoulders.

Gwen locks eyes with Jack for what feels like forever. (Why her, Jack? Why does it always come back to her?)

"I think you should take your hands off my wife, Captain Harkness," says Rhys with deadly calm.

Gwen shushes him. "Jack." She gently takes Jack's hands from her shoulders. "You're always so dramatic. Just like me. I'm not going anywhere. You get offworld. You get the Weevils home. You get the Cythraul away and I've no doubt that those two boys over there will cook up some mad bit of tech that will blow them out of the sky..."

"I can't leave you." Jack's holding Gwen’s hands like they were lovers. "Please don't ask me..."

"Hands off my WIFE, Captain." Rhys radiates barely-contained rage.

Gwen shushes him again. Brings Jack's two hands to her mouth. Kisses them.

John's arm tightens around him. When he looks, John's eyes are sympathetic. For the first time, Ianto feels a bit of bitter joy that the last hands to touch him weren't Jack's. (For better or for worse, at least I have you.)

"AND," Gwen continues. "Once you're done swanning off to save the universe, you'll come home to us, and everything will be all right."

A distant explosion shakes the ship.

John whips out the wrist strap again. "Concussion torpedo. Massive damage to that hulking eyesore of a convention centre."

Jack and Gwen don't seem to have heard him. (And they wouldn't, would they?) "You'll be back." Gwen steps back and takes her husband's arm. "We'll be waiting."

"Helloooooooo?" John carols, waving one hand. "Massive damage to hulking eyesore. Probable inbound hostile enemy craft."

Another distant explosion seems to shake Jack out of his distraction. "That was a direct hit."

"Yes, brainiac," says John. "The big bad evil aliens are shooting at us."

When they turn, Gwen and Rhys are already gone.

"Gwen!" Jack shouts.

John bars his way when Jack makes a lunge for the door. "Let them go."

"Get out of my way, John."

"You can never let it go, can you, Jack?" John shoves Jack fiercely. "The Tau Seti Ambassador's wife? That fucking Sulamid captain -- and don't tell me you don't STILL have a hard-on for that one. Boys. Girls. THINGS. I gave up my fiancée for you. I gave up my family for you. I was chaste as a fucking MONK before I met you. And you repaid me with cowardice and infidelity. PUBLIC infidelity. I thought you'd change. I thought you'd figure it out. But this?" He decks Jack so hard Ianto flinches at the sound of cracking bone. "The boy who loves you with all his heart is STANDING RIGHT THERE, YOU FUCKING PRICK!"

Jack clicks his jaw back into place. "...neither the time nor the place..."

John threatens again, fist cocked. "That's the whole fucking POINT, isn't it, Jack?"

Above them, another concussive blast, closer this time.

John locks eyes with Jack, angry as Ianto's ever seen him. "At the end of the world, who do you choose, Jack?"

Jack shakes his head hard. The broken jaw resets. "... not like that."

"Yes, it is. When it comes down to it, you always choose the one you can't have. It's what you've always done. I'm an idiot to be surprised." John backs up until his body shields Ianto's. "Well, this is what I choose, Jack. This is who I protect. This is who *I* love." Hot fingers lace with Ianto's. "And when the end comes, this is who I'll die for. If you were still mortal, could you say the same?"

It's stupid to love John for that, but he does.

Jack is the image of wounded pride. "I owe my loyalty to the team who is loyal to me."

John laughs bitterly. "You are so full of shit, Jack. And the sad thing is, you don’t even see it."

The hands-free goes off. He taps it. "Ianto," says Gwen in his ear. "Didn't you say Jack has some kind of self-destruct device?"

"Is it that bad?" he says.

"And getting worse," she replies.

"Computer," says Jack. "Initiate lockdown sequence Omega, authorization Captain Jack Harkness zero one one two three five eight."

"Your password is the Fibonacci sequence?" says John.

Jack glares at him.

The explosion is deafening over the hands-free. Damn near blows out Ianto's eardrum.

"They're targeting the fountain, Ianto!" Gwen's voice is frantic. "Gonna rip the roof off this place! We need the self-destruct sequence!"

Jack's hand is at his ear. By his stricken look, Ianto knows he's heard too. "Don't do it," says Jack. "It's not safe."

Every alarm in the place must be ringing behind Gwen.

"Safe is relative," says John.

"Fourth drawer down," he says.

"Ianto! " Jack grabs him. John cold-cocks Jack. Steals his Webley. Shoots him five times.

And a sick part of Ianto is grateful. "Left side," he says into the hands-free. "It's a simple switch. He's rigged it for his DNA, but the override is..." And as he rattles off the codes, he glances at John, who's examining Jack's prone form.

John nods. "Bastard's already healing. He'll be pissed as hell when he revives."

Jack gasps back to life.

"Get in the bunker," Ianto says into the hands-free. He's trying not to imagine her, struggling to defend everything as the world comes tumbling down. "You and Rhys both. You know the trap door under the rug?"

"Got it," she says.

"Hold off on the switch until we're airborne." He glances at John, who hops into the pilot's chair. Extends both wrists toward the console. Cables break through the skin. Snake out to couple with ports on the console. John shudders, grimacing. When he pivots the chair, Ianto's stomach lurches at the other two cables that sink into the back of John's neck.

"I'm in," says John.

The ship shudders. Rises from the ground.

"Just hold on, Gwen." Surely this ship has some kind of armaments. They get airborne, maybe they can fight fire with fire.

"Hang on." A quick click and a heart-stopping pause, then Gwen's back. "Martha. She's almost here. We can hold them until then."

John's hands fly over the console. He's never seen a human move that quickly. "Opening hangar doors."

Water cascades down, flooding the hangar bay.

"Bay open," says John. "Triggering the Rift."

"What?" Gwen's cry mirrors his own.

"Minor hiccough," John assures him. "Hide our signature long enough to get us out of the atmosphere." John grins. "We'll be free in a second. Tell her to fry them."

"Gwen," he says. "Hit it and get to safety."

Something roars over the headset, like fire. Gwen screams in his ear.

The headset goes silent.

Ianto's knocked to the floor as the ship lurches madly, propelled out of control by a whiplash of rogue spacetime.

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Crossposted to jackxianto, torchwoodslash, guns_n_poodles