Chapter Text
Disclaimer: Captain Jack Harkness, his family, Owen Harper, Suzie Costello and Toshiko Sato do not belong to me ... they belong to Russell T. Davies, the BBC, and Starz. And I'm certainly not making any money from writing any of these stories. My greatest reward is giving characters I love a little bit of happiness.
Chapter One
A Case of Mistaken Identity
Cardiff, Wales
July 2005
He made his way through the crowd, wanting to get horribly, stinking pissed and not really caring what Jack thought about it the following morning. He grimaced when he thought about his boss. Jack sodding Harkness thought this new bird was so damn good, let her handle whatever came through. It would have been Katie's birthday, and oh God, it hurt so much. Dr. Owen Harper made his way through the pub, pushing toward the bartender. There was a bloke already there, but Owen ignored him. He didn't want to talk, he didn't want to socialize, and most importantly of all, he wanted to drink until it didn't hurt any more. Owen growled his order at the barkeep, grunting when it was set in front of him.
He didn't bother looking around ... wasn't particularly interested in those around him, unless it was to make sure that they stayed out of his way, and vice versa. No, he wanted to focus on Katie. He tried so many damn times to think about the way she was before that sodding alien parasite began taking her away from him, but it never worked. Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw that thing that murdered the love of his life and murdered a significant part of Owen's soul at the same time ... and his rage grew.
At this point, he knew that Jack was telling him the truth about Katie's death ... that it could have been avoided if the doctors waited for him, and if that pompous bird Yvonne Hartman hadn't told the surgeons to ignore Jack. Owen smiled coldly. He paid her back, though. The one time they met, he told her flat out that he would never forget that it was her interference that cost Katie her life. She hadn't looked particularly impressed (or contrite) until Jack's hand settled on his shoulder and he pointed out to the woman that just as doctors could heal, they could also harm. Owen had the pleasure of seeing her go white with horror, not just at the threat but at the realization of what she did. She was responsible for Katie's death, and there might come a time when her life was in Owen's hands. The young doctor offered her a feral grin, before pulling away from Jack's hand and leaving the office. He had to get out of there ... it was impossible for him to breathe in there.
He had a vague recollection of a pretty, dark-skinned young woman turning to face him and rising to her feet as he blew out of Hartman's office, and a young man calling, ‘Lisa?' But he ignored them both, because he had to leave immediately. Immediately, before he forgot that you weren't supposed to hit women, because Yvonne Hartman certainly wasn't a lady. Instead, he took a swing at Jack once they returned to Cardiff, because dammit, he should have told Owen sooner that Hartman was to blame for Katie's death! Toshiko hotly defended their boss, telling him that Jack didn't know for certain until the confrontation in Hartman's office. It was rare when Toshiko stood up to him, but when she did, it was always on Jack's behalf. Not that it was necessary this time, because while Owen took a swing at Jack, the blow never landed this time. The worst part of it was, Owen never even saw Jack move. There was a story there, but damn if Owen could figure it out. Besides, he didn't want to. It wasn't his problem, he had problems enough of his own.
As Owen stared into his drink, snatches of the conversation beside him began to filter into his hearing. That by itself was enough to make him unhappy. He wanted to be left alone, dammit! But the world didn't like him that much, and to his right, he heard some loud-mouth pillock crowing about the little bit on the side he had, and how his wife didn't suspect a blessed thing, the stupid bird. Not that it was any of her concern, not when she'd been having an affair for years. He didn't believe a word that the dark-haired man he sometimes saw her with was her brother ... the bloke had an American accent, and he knew for a fact that his wife had no siblings! His mum-in-law told him that straight out!
Again, Owen tried to ignore the berk, but he was making it bloody difficult. A quick glance over his shoulder told him that the other men in that little group didn't look particularly impressed either. Good. Let them deal with their mate. The doctor (who wasn't even close to being drunk enough yet) tried to tune them out. He honestly didn't care about this prat and his marital issues, but his lip was starting to get on Owen's nerves. And really, if this was how the bloke behaved on a regular basis, Owen honestly couldn't blame his old lady for stepping out on him. He would have stayed out of it. He really would have.
Except the blighter decided to shove at him, and growl, "Oi, get outta me way, you little plonker." Owen ignored him, focusing instead on the liquid sloshing about in the glass. This time, he was shoved harder, spilling his drink. Owen very carefully set down what remained on the counter and turned to face the bastard full on, offering the other man a very cold, very nasty smile. Some of the philanderer's friends were starting to pull away, looking from him to Owen and back again warily.
The doctor smirked at him and said very softly, "My name is Jack ... Jack Harkness. Not ‘you little plonker.' And as for moving? Make. Me. Big man like you, should be easy ... you cheat on your wife and brag about it, should be easy for you to make me." He wasn't entirely sure why he gave Jack's name (okay, maybe he was ... it served the bastard right). And while he didn't have Jack's ability to block a punch, he could (and did) duck. Which he did now, easily ducking under the swing the bastard took at him. Owen might not have thrown the first punch, but by God, he'd throw the last one!
TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW
Torchwood Three Hub
Cardiff, Wales
There were good things about being the director of Torchwood Three ... including his ability to influence other operatives into leaving the Doctor alone. There was his weekly conversation with the Brigadier, who spoke to him with the same mixture of amusement, affection and exasperation that was present when he spoke of the Doctor. He took great pleasure in earning that strange mixture, and in the Brig's reassurances. As yet, he hadn't made contact with Sarah Jane Smith or any of the other former Companions. He just enjoyed talking to the Brig.
What Captain Jack Harkness didn't enjoy was paperwork. And as the director, there was a great mess of paperwork. In fact, it was his private opinion (half in fun and full in earnest) that paperwork was the invention of some alien species trying to take over the world ... bogged down in bureaucracy and unable to do a damn thing. And the only person he shared that opinion with was the Brig, who roared with laughter and replied, "You have a point there, lad, you have a point there." Jack didn't bother pointing out that he was old enough to be the Brig's grandfather. It wouldn't do much good.
Instead, he focused on the budgets and the requisition forms and everything else that required his attention. And when the phone rang, he answered it immediately (because if it wasn't the phone ringing, it would have been a Rift alert or a Weevil spotted or something). Of course, his distraction wasn't much better because he was informed by the owner of a local pub, Darien Roberts, that he needed to pick up Owen, who got pissed and then got into a fight. It didn't concern him that it was Darien who called him ... he was an old friend of Jack's, who kept an eye on Torchwood operatives when they were in the pub ... it wasn't even that Owen got into a fight. From what his friend said, Owen won the fight. It was the sound of Owen weeping. That worried Jack far more than anything else ... he actually heard Owen weeping in the background. Owen got drunk on a regular basis and he became nastier, not weepy. Jack told his old friend that he would be there immediately, hung up, and pushed his paperwork aside.
He brushed a light kiss to the top of Tosh's head, telling her that he would be back as soon as possible. Jack really wasn't sure if she heard him, since she was entranced in what she was currently doing. Suzie was still focused on the glove, and barely looked up as he left. Jack reminded himself to send the girls home once he returned with Owen to the Hub ... or better yet, once he picked up the doctor. They didn't need to see it and Owen didn't need them to see it. Less than a half hour later, he was being guided into the office of his old friend, where Owen was reclining on the couch.
Darien murmured, "I'll leave the two of you alone, and settle with you about the damage later. It won't be as much as the other bloke." Jack nodded and Darien patted his shoulder before leaving the room. Jack knelt beside the dozing man and cupped his cheek with his palm, drawing Owen's eyes open. The doctor blinked at him and mumbled something indistinguishable. Jack merely smirked at him, but didn't remove his hand. The two men stared at each other for several moments, Jack using the time to check Owen's injuries. Darien told him that Owen won the fight, but that didn't mean Jack wouldn't need to tend to bumps, cuts, and bruises. What Owen was looking for, Jack honestly wasn't sure.
At last, Owen said, his voice sounding more than a little rusty, "Is this the point where you tell me how disappointed in me you are, and how I'm too old to be acting like this?" Jack merely arched his brows at the other man and surprisingly, Owen flushed a little, muttering something under his breath. Jack didn't even try to hear what the doctor was saying ... right now, he was hurting all over, not nearly as drunk as he probably wanted to be, and now he was embarrassed. That wasn't a good mixture for any man, much less Owen Harper.
"Way I hear it, you didn't start the fight. You may not have done much to avoid it, but you didn't start it either. In fact, Darien told me on the way in here that you were actually defending a woman's honor, in a roundabout way. So why would I be disappointed in you?" Jack asked mildly. Owen started to sit up, wincing as bruised ribs must have protested. The immortal didn't move, knowing better than to try to help Owen without the other man asking first. The doctor huffed a little, winced again, and gave Jack a pleading look. Jack eased him upright and smirked a little when Owen huffed at him again.
"It's Katie's birthday ... and that berk was bragging about how he had some on the side. Bragging about his loyal wife, home with their little boy, while he shagged someone who didn't know or care that he was married. I never had a chance to marry Katie or give her babies, and that pillock doesn't know, doesn't care, what he's got!" Owen explained bitterly. Jack didn't speak. It wasn't often that Owen talked about his late fiancée and everything they never had a chance to do. The young doctor swallowed hard before continuing, "All I wanted to do was get drunk in peace, Jack. That was all."
"And then he shoved into you, you decided to play the immovable object and dared him to move you, and things went from there," Jack observed. Owen managed to crack a small smile as he nodded, wincing again from the cuts on his face. Jack was silent for a long moment, and then he said, "Okay. I'll call Darien tomorrow about settling your tab and the damages from your donnybrook. In the meantime, I'll take you back to the Hub ... and don't worry, I'll make sure the girls are gone before we get there."
Owen tried not to look relieved and failed miserably. Jack suppressed a smile and helped the doctor to his feet, allowing the other man to lean against him. Owen muttered, obviously not thinking clearly (because he would have never said it if he was thinking at all), "Don't know whether I should be relieved or insulted that you're not trying to cop a feel." Jack snickered, ignoring Owen's disgruntled look, as well as the doctor's muttered, ‘oi, Harkness, it isn't that funny.' Yes, Owen, Jack thought with a mischievous grin, it is that funny. However, he didn't say so. Instead, he assisted the wobbly doctor from the pub, exchanging a nod (in lieu of a kiss) with Darien. Owen snarked, "Don't hold back on my account!"
"Oh, I wouldn't want to throw you off-balance, Owen ... you're wobbly enough as it is," Jack retorted breezily, and Owen groaned, rolling his eyes with obvious exasperation. Honestly, what did he expect? Granted, he wasn't with Torchwood as long as Suzie or Tosh, but he'd been with Jack long enough to know what to expect. The two men were silent as they navigated out of the pub and out into the night air. Contrary to popular belief, Jack was quite capable of being quiet (hello, once and future soldier here!) and right now, he was more concerned with what Owen needed than in hearing the sound of his own voice. Jack eased his doctor into the SUV, securing him carefully into the seat belt, before traveling around to the other side and swinging himself inside and securing his own seat belt.
The drive back to the Hub was quiet once Jack made the call to send Suzie and Tosh home. Of course, both ladies protested, but Jack reminded them both that he needed them rested and clear-eyed, not exhausted. That didn't stop Suzie from getting grumpy, but he did offer to make it an order (something that wasn't necessary with Tosh, thankfully). That made her even grumpier, but she did agree to leave. If she was still there when Jack and Owen arrived ... well, he would figure something out. For the moment, he kept his speed down (much for Owen's sake than anything else). He pulled into the underground parking garage ... Owen wouldn't have thanked him for using the lift disguised by the perception filter. Jack could be playful and he could be a bastard, but that would have just been too much. Both girls were gone by that time (for which Jack was incredibly grateful), and Owen could walk more or less on his own.
Jack patched up his doctor in silence ... well, aside from the occasional hisses of pain and more prevalent bitching. However, that didn't bother Jack ... in a way, it was reassuring. If Owen wasn't bitching or snarking, then something was wrong. Owen asked suddenly, "Do you think I'm making something out of nothing? Over reacting to what that blighter was saying?' The question literally came out of nowhere ... in just about every way you could imagine. The question itself surprised Jack, and the fact that it was Owen who was asking startled him. Although Jack knew he wasn't the most sensitive person around, and he became exasperated with twentieth and twenty-first century mores, he also recognized what Owen was really asking.
Thus, he replied as the last cut was tended to and the last bruise received salve, "There's no timetable for grief, Owen, much less for healing. And from Darien told me, you didn't start the fight." Owen nodded, still looking troubled, and Jack continued, "Get some sleep. Even if you're not as drunk as you want to be, I still don't want you on the roads." It was the only way Owen would accept expressions of concern. The doctor nodded brusquely, easing himself from the table with a little less wincing.
"Yeah, yeah, you're all heart, Harkness," Owen sniped and Jack smiled. That was about as close to a ‘thank you' as Owen was comfortable with giving, and that was fine. More than fine, really. Jack was unceremoniously shooed out of the autopsy bay ... Owen evidently needed a few moments to himself. Jack merely bounded up the stairs into the main part of the Hub, and then on up into his office, where that pile of paper remained. It wasn't the break he hoped for when the call from Darien came earlier, but it was the one he received ... and that pile of paperwork wouldn't go away on its own.
He sat down at his desk, frowning a little at the most recent report from Suzie about the glove. There was something very uncomfortable about that thing, but before they locked it away, he had to know more about it. The time was drawing ever nearer for him to find the Doctor again, and the more they knew about the alien tech in Torchwood's archives, the better off they would be. Of course, as he sometimes had to remind himself, the worst threats to humanity's continued survival (to say nothing of their future) was humans themselves. Such as Owen Harper telling the other man in their fight that his name was Jack Harkness ... but it would be another few days before Jack learned about that.
TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW
London, England
Same Night
He thought she didn't know something was going on. He was wrong.
Back when her name was Melissa Moretti, and she was the daughter of two Torchwood operatives, she picked up on things that the adults in her life would have wanted her to remain innocent of. But her mother removed her father from their lives, and she was behaving then the exact same way that Joe was behaving now. She didn't want to believe it, but the evidence was mounting with each passing day.
She was sitting with Steven, now sound asleep with Mr. Fuzzy clutched in his arms. He'd had a nightmare and for some reason, only her old bear settled him when he was sick or terrified. She had a suspicion, though, that it was a combination of her scent and her father's, since Mr. Fuzzy was one of the few things she had left of her life as Melissa Moretti. The door opened and closed and Alice Carter hesitated briefly, pressing a soft kiss to her son's hair, before heading downstairs to greet her husband. What she saw when she reached him stunned her. Her husband was supported between two of his mates, neither of them able to look her in the eye, and Joe himself ... Either Joe was in a fight or he got mugged. Neither one boded well for the rest of the night. Instead of asking what the hell happened to him (the smell of alcohol gave it away), she motioned his two friends to follow her into the kitchen.
It was there that she learned they went down to Cardiff to celebrate ... she wasn't given details about what they were celebrating, and Alice had a sneaking suspicion that she didn't want to know. As it was, it was bad enough that they went to Cardiff ... Cardiff was where her father was, and she tried very hard to keep her husband and her father separate. It wasn't that hard, really ... not as hard as it was to keep her son away from her father. Steven adored him ... just as she did once, before she found out what he really was. She learned from her husband's mates that Joe picked a fight with a man who was really just trying to drink in peace ... but Joe went too far, and the bloke kicked his arse. Alice could only sigh.
And then they dropped the bomb. The man whom her idiot husband attacked was none other than her father. Alice's initial sympathy for the man just trying to drink at the pub vanished when her father's name was mentioned. She warned him about interfering in her life! While his contact with Joe was (very) limited, he knew Joe's name, and she wouldn't put it past him to set Joe up to embarrass him. Why he would do that, Alice had no idea, but she stopped trying to figure out why her father would do things years earlier.
Later, she would wonder why she didn't get a description of the man whom her husband fought. And there were signs that it wasn't really her father ... for one thing, they kept referring to ‘that little bloke.' Jack was not little ... he was tall and broad-shouldered, and he wasn't little by any stretch of the imagination. She was ashamed to admit it, when called on it, but she simply made assumptions. And finally, there was one other thing Alice failed to take into account ... if Joe fought her father, his mates would have found it necessary to carry her husband into the house. He walked in under his own power.
But she didn't think about any of that. Instead, she listened to what was said with only half an ear, focusing on that one name: Jack Harkness. Dammit, he promised her ... he promised her that he would stay out of her life! There was a distant part of Alice's mind that recognized she was leaping to conclusions based on too-few facts, but she always had this reaction to her father's interference in her life. And hearing that her husband was bragging about cheating on her might have made a difference, but that was more information that wasn't available to her. And, she would admit later, it might have made no difference. The only thing that registered with her at that moment in time was while Steven was in school the following day, she would go to Cardiff and she would kill her father!
TBC