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Deja Vu

Summary:

Jack learns someone is after his secret soldier of the resistance and rides to the rescue...But then things get...strange.

Work Text:


Deja Vu
by PEJA

 

Jack Harkness woke with a sensuous smile on his face and a serious case of swollen flesh below his waistline. An unfamiliar face lingered in his thoughts, dream sex always left him reaching for the first willing body, although he really really...really preferred said body to belong to his very own Ianto Jones....Especially an Ianto Jones lying next to him all warm and sleepy-sweet scented.

Unfortunately, the only thing lying in bed was him was Ianto's infamous stopwatch. Still... Jack's smile grew as the night and the timed games they played before tickled his thoughts once more.  

And fueled his desire to explore the fires blazing in his groin.

Growling his frustration, Jack rolled out of bed, pulled on his trousers, leaving them unsnapped, and padded off in search of his favorite boy toy.

Ianto met him at the bottom of the stairs to Jack's office. "Jack, there's an important message on your private line. I was coming to wake you."

"And I was coming to snog you, Ianto."  Jack pulled Ianto into his arms and kissed him hard, stepped away slightly. "Damn phone. Don't people ever check the clock before they call?"

Ianto offered a sympathetic smile. "It sounded urgent, Jack. Something about an operative needing assistance.  I thought Gwen and the rest were on home leave...."

Jack suddenly broke away and dashed up the stairs, leaving Ianto's observation half spoken.  

Ianto followed his lover upstairs, worry pulling his brows low over blue darkening eyes.

Jack was spitting questions into the phone when Ianto arrived in Jack's upper level office. Questions that only served to make Ianto even more curious.

"Dammit, Alex, how the hell do you get yourself into these...Don't give me that, you wily little...Alex...Alex, shut up a minute. Yes, yes, I'm on my way. Yeah, dammit. I'll get this marshal off your ass once and for all."  Jack chuckled dryly, calming down slightly. "Yeah?" He grinned widely.  "Gonna hold you to that."

"To what?" Ianto blurted out and Jack turned, realizing he was not alone. "Gonna hold him to what, Jack?"

"We'll discuss it later."  He paused, listening. "No, Alex, Not you. Ianto is with me.... Dream your little dreams, Alex. I intended to get a little piece when you called and I'm damned if I don't snog my lover before I do anything else at this moment....Yes.  Yeah, yeah, once I finish what is important here I'll be on my way. Right, right...I'm on my way. Yes, today." He laughed heartily. "Shut up.  I'll be there. Just keep your damn head down until I can get there." He laughed again, shortly, at something from the other end of the phone line. "Don't be an ass, Alex. See ya soon."

Ianto turned away as Jack gently returned the phone to it's receiver, saying, "I should get the coffee started."

Jack stopped him with a gentle hand to his arm, pulling Ianto into his embrace and pressing a kiss to the side of his neck. "You know I care you, don't you, Ianto? As much as I can care for anyone, I care for you."

Ianto gave him a sad smile. "He is one of your "on the sides", isn't he?"

"Would you believe me if I said no?"

Ianto didn't answer, but his gaze was steady, knowing.

Resigned.  

Jack would be Jack. Accept it, or walk away.

"And saying yes would just hurt you more."

Walking away was not an option. After all, Jack would be Jack.

"You are the man you are." Ianto sighed. "I can't expect more than that. Not knowing that one day..."

Jack laid a finger on his lips, silencing him.  "One day is forever away."

Ianto whimpered softly when Jack leaned in to devour his lips hungrily. He didn't want to think about the desperation he tasted on that kiss. Or the despair he knew Jack tasted on his own lips.

^^^

His greatcoat flaring out behind him, Jack strode into Kentucky's U.S. Marshall's Office, his every movement broadcasting an air of ownership that had one and all very aware of his presence. He paused in the doorway, his narrowed blue gaze lancing across the nervous faces of officer and perp alike. A dark and dangerous smile curved his lips as his eyes fell on the profile of the man he was looking for.

"Givens." He snarled, advancing on the marshal with all the inconsequence of a Sherman tank. "I would have words with you." His tone left no doubt that he meant now. And that he would not be put off.

Rayden Givens pivoted around to face him full on.

Jack startled as a flash of memory took hold of him and he suddenly recognized the man as the object of the very interesting dream from which Ianto Jones had benefited in a completely satisfiying way just hours ago.  And would still have been if not for an urgent call from Torchwood's most distinguished deep cover field operative, Alex Krycek.

Rayden Givens had gotten his nose into an important operation, getting in the way of Krycek's mission. More important then that, he'd interrupted Jack's intimacy with his very own Ianto Jones. As far as Jack was concerned, the man owed him, and owed him big.

Fragments of the night before's dream filtered through his memory and Jack's smile turned vengeful. With the dangerous question of what if running through his head, his eyes glittered.

Mid-step, Givens hesitated at the change in Jack's smile.

So, the man was no fool, Jack noted and mentally tipped his saber to him, open challenge on a purely psychological plain.

Art Mullen had come to his office door when Jack had called Rayden's name. He begun to sweat when the two men gave each other the studied eye. He knew Rayden, knew the casual deportment he wore covered the man's naturally explosive temperament. Rayden wore that demeanor now like it had been slathered on with a spatula in a heavy hand.

The stranger advanced on his marshal with a look that spelled nothing so much as death and destruction.  He sprang to action, quickly moving to intercept.  

Jack's lips turned down in disapproval as Mullen moved into his path. His eyes narrowed on the middle-aged man.

"Art Mullen," Mullen stuck out his hand, and Jack took it, briefly. "Chief Deputy Art Mullen."

Jack glanced him over.  And dismissed him with the next blink, saying, "I need a word with your man, Givens."

Sighing inwardly, Mullen wondered what Rayden had done this time. On the surface, the man looked like a self-satisfied fashion model, not much in comparison to his own marshal in the temper department, but his eyes told another story.  A dangerous story.   "In regards?"

Jack's hard gaze lasered in on him. "Interference of an field agent in the pursuit of his duty."

Mullen opened his mouth to ask a question, but Jack spoke over his intent. "I have a man in deepest cover operating in this area and your man is stepping on my agent's toes.  I'm here to make sure the fool backs the hell off before he gets my man killed."

By now, Rayden had sauntered over to the scene of bureaucratic chest-beating. He wore a self-satisfied smirk, after all, half the pleasure of being him was to rock the authoritarian boat.  

"I've had no notice of another agency working in my jurisdiction."  Mullen tried to sound reasonable even though the man was wearing on his already Rayden-jangled nerves.  "Maybe if you told me which agency..."

Jack snorted. "As if you would have ever heard of us."

"Who exactly are we discussing?"  Rayden pipped in. "Your agent, I mean?"

Scowling, Jack hurled a glare Given's way. "You know him as one Alex Krycek. No middle name

"Alex Krycek?" Rayden looked incredulous.  "Alex Krycek is your agent?  The man is on the FBIs most wanted."

"Yes, he is, isn't he? Krycek is very good at what he does." Jack grunted a smirk, right then deciding to get some answers to the what ifs of the situation as well as back this marshal off his sometime lover.  His gaze openly roaming over Rayden's long, lean form, coming to rest on the Marshall's groin. His tongue darted out scandalously, winning a shocked gasp from the man and his superior officer. Interesting, that.  He tilted a lecherous grin at the man and winked. "And so am I."

Mullen sputtered something unintelligent, cleared his throat and tried again. "Who did you say you represented?"

Direct hit.

"I didn't." Grinning as he mentally scored himself a ten point hit.  "Captain Jack Harkness."  Jack reached into his inside pocket and pulled out his I.D. and an official document ordering their compliance. "I am Torchwood."

Pretending to read over the documents, Mullen took a minute to place the name Jack Harkness. And the memory hit him like a rock to the head. Damn right, he had heard of this man. Heard some good things.  Some not so good.  Some down right nasty.

"Torchwood?" Rayden questioned. "I'm not familiar....Art, are you all right?" he asked, suddenly concerned when Mullen blanched and swayed slightly on his feet.

 

Jack read the glitter in Mullen eyes for what it was. Knew exactly the moment Mullen connected his name with his reputation. Gotcha now. He counted himself another hit.

But the man was no slouch. His jaw tightened and he moved to stand between Harkness and Givens. The play impressed Jack, lifting him up in jack's opinion. The daddy was protecting his chick. Marking his property and declaring the young marshal off limits.

Jack chuckled darkly. "You'll back off my agent?" The question was directed at Mullen, the message, mess with what's mine and I'll mess with what's yours, was clear to a blind man as his eyes locked on Givens. Certain as death.

"Whatever you say, Sir." Mullen agreed.  "As long as you do the same."

"Respect."  Jack chuckled, nodding. "I was just looking."

Mullen gave a huffing grunt, crossing his arms over his chest. "Do me a favor and look in your own playground.  And we'll do the same."

Rayden blustered, finally managing a weak, "But...?"

"Shut up, Rayden. Torchwood plays in a whole other arena.  Makes you look tame."  

"Ah, we're not so bad," Jack soothed.  A mischievous glint flickered in his blue eyes and Jack side-stepped around Mullen. "Sorry, Mullen, but I just have to know..." He reached out, running a teasing finger down Rayden's chest. "You wouldn't be interested in buying a soldier a drink, would you? Maybe show me the night....life?"

Rayden slid a step closer to Mullen's protection. "I...don't think so..."

Jack glanced between the two men, then sighed. "So that's how the dream ends.  Pity.  We could of had ...fun."

He tipped them both a nod, then pivoted on his heel and strode out of the U.S Marshall's office.

end

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