Out of Place Chapter 15

[galadriel1010]

John and Ianto wound their way through the grinding, milling throng to the busy bar. It took ten minutes to get served, which gave them plenty of time to locate their friends from the night before. Ianto caught the eye of the frazzled barmaid and leaned across the bar to talk to her, seizing his chance. He had to yell to be heard, “Do you want a hand? You look like you could do with another person.”

“Can you do a screaming orgasm?” He just grinned at that one and she rolled her eyes, “Flaming Lamborghini?”

“Yep.”

“You’re overqualified then, come on round.” He came round to join her and she looked him up and down appreciatively, “Definitely overqualified, what’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?”

“Serving drinks I assume.”

She laughed again and gestured along the bar, “They’ll mainly be wanting bottled stuff, the occasional Tequila Slammer and ‘tough’”, she mimed the inverted commas, “college kids who think that ordering a screaming orgasm makes them look cool. Just keep up.”

He nodded and smiled at her, “Do you normally let people behind the bar?”

“No, but you’re cute and we’ve got two girls off tonight.”

Ianto winked at her and turned away, catching John’s eye, “What can I get you?”

John smirked, “You can give me a screaming orgasm any time you like, but right now I think six bottles of WKD.”

“Colour?”

“Oh, two of each.” He laughed internally at Ianto’s efficiency as the drinks appeared on the bar and picked them up, giving the younger man a nod before heading across the room towards where he’d seen the other guys. They spotted him before he got there and greeted him enthusiastically, but not as enthusiastically as the drinks. “Evening.”

“James!” Alice at least was already fairly drunk, “You’re here!”

“Yes I am, and so are you I see.”

“Yeah.” she gazed at him with wide eyes, “But you’re on your own again.”

“Not anymore I’m not.” he pointed out with a grin, “And Matt’s here, but got distracted.”

“He’s behind the bar.” The other James looked at him questioningly, “Why?”

“He has a gift for it apparently. Go order a screaming orgasm and you’ll see what I mean.”

“Why would I want a screaming orgasm?” They all laughed at that one and he shook his head, picking up one of the red bottles, “Yeah, yeah, OK. Foot in mouth or what.”

“He’ll give you ‘that’ look.” John explained, “He’s very good at it.”

“So what are you both doing here again?”

“I speak for only myself when I say that I’m enjoying the atmosphere. He called me today and I persuaded him to come along. If I’d known he’d end up behind the bar I wouldn’t have bothered.”

“I thought he had a boyfriend?” Alice asked giddily

John raised an eyebrow and took a sip from his drink, “At the moment, yeah.“

---

On a nearby rooftop, a commanding figure watched the last revellers enter the building before it was locked down. The hot desert wind blew his hair around and he smiled into it, revelling in its burningly soft touch. Down below he could see the first of the Liberty Towers team getting into place; lounging against walls with studied casualness, packing and repacking gear into vans. No one looked at them twice. He smiled to himself as his comms beeped into life, “Harkness.”

“Captain, this is Sergeant Collins, where are you?”

He sighed, “I’m on the roof, do you need me?”

“Not yet, we’re going to move in forty five minutes.”

“Yeah, I know, I can tell the time.” He huffed and put his hands in his trouser pockets; he’d not brought his coat and was glad of it, although if it didn’t get much cooler he’d have to get rid of the shirt as well. “Are your lot in position?”

“The lockdown takes place in five minutes, the first trucks will arrive five minutes after that.”

“OK, and the guys in position now are reporting back to you?”

“Yes sir. I’ll let you know if they have anything to report.”

“Thank you.” Jack smiled to himself as he imagined the slightly officious but very accommodating sergeant. He was young, from New York; probably dark haired, cut short and spiked and in the stylish but functional Liberty Towers uniform. Polo shirt, white, no logo. Slim black trousers which invariably hugged a trim waist hidden below the polo shirt and showed off developed thighs, because everyone at Liberty Towers started on the ground, doing the running around and world saving, then moved up as their talents were discovered. Then again, if he was joining the exercise he might be in one of the extremely flattering dark blue T-shirts that highlighted every muscle.

Still, Jack reflected, he still wouldn’t look as good as Ianto (although maybe he was biased on that count). The young man had spent almost an hour getting ready and has asked Jack to ‘help him’, which meant the older man sitting on the bed and watching with undisguised lust as Ianto put on tight T-shirts and jeans, unbuttoned shirts, his cutest suit, even a pair of shorts at one point, and took them all off again. Jack had eventually got frustrated (more frustrated than he could cope with) and had him up against the bedroom wall. Ianto’s only coherent reply had been “Finally!”, which hadn’t helped matters.

The captain ran a finger along his bottom lip and smiled even more when he felt where he’d bitten it and drawn blood. Yeah, Ianto drove him crazy, but very good crazy. He sighed and gave up on the shirt, glad he’d listened to Ianto and not put his suspenders on as he unbuttoned it and pulled it off. The sun was even warmer as it hit his now bare arms and he turned to close his eyes and face into the dying rays, smiling in the warmth. He sat down facing along the edge of the roof, one foot on the roof and one leg dangling down, his face angled so that the sun’s rays hit maybe two thirds of it, leaving the rest in shadow. Textbook relaxing hero as Jasmine would call it.

The comms beeped again and he sighed. “Captain, dare I ask why the codeword is Cheeky Vimto?”

He laughed and shook his head, “Are you bored by any chance Sergeant?”

“Nothing more to do until they move in, is there?”

“Are we going to answer all questions with questions?”

“Will it pass the time?”

“What do you think?”

“Erm… why are you asking what I think?”

“Why do you think I’m asking what you think?”

“Do you know how juvenile that is sir?”

“Do you know how old I am Sergeant?”

“What?”

“Hah.” Jack laughed and looked up at the sky, “You lose, and a Cheeky Vimto is a cocktail. It’s a John thing.”

There was silence for a moment, which piqued Jack’s interest, “Technically sir, I win. ‘What?’ is a question.”

He shook his head in amusement, “OK, you win, I’ll buy you a Cheeky Vimto as a prize.”

“Deal.”

“What’s your name?”

“Playing that game again sir?” The young man chuckled, “It’s Simon.”

“Nice to meet you Simon, and call me Jack. “

“Thank you Jack.”

The immortal stood up and stretched as the last glimpse of the sun disappeared blow the horizon. He walked to the other edge of the roof and gazed out at the as yet untouched desert, stretching as far as the eye could see. He’d once read somewhere, or heard someone say maybe, that space was too big to comprehend but much smaller things could seem enormous, so they seemed somehow bigger. Standing here, looking out, he believed it. The desert filled his whole vision, his mind was consumed by it. Shaking his head he turned back and headed down through the building to street level where the Liberty towers forces were gathering.

Sergeant Simon Collins of Liberty Towers jumped out of the truck as soon as it stopped moving and advanced on the easily identifiable figure of Captain Jack Harkness with his hand outstretched. The captain greeted him warmly with a firm handshake, a hand clapped to his shoulder and an appreciative grin, “Thanks for your help Sergeant.”

“Not at all.” He smiled back warmly and fished a necklace out from underneath the dark blue T-shirt, “You could say it runs in the family.”

Jack bent close to look at it already knowing what he would see and laughed, “You’re one of Jazz’s brood? Go figure.” He had her hair, the immortal reflected, blonde with blue streaks (not natural mind) and slightly longer than he’d expected. Not dark. Still…

“Yes I am, comes in very useful, opens many doors. It’s a shame she couldn’t come out tonight, I was looking forwards to meeting her.”

“Yeah, she’s on at the crime lab, will join us if she can. You’ll be what, grandson?”

“Great grandson actually.” He smiled and looked down at his watch, “Cheeky Vimto went active two minutes ago.”

“Good.” he shook his head with a smile, “Let’s just hope that Yan didn’t get so annoyed with John that he drugged him too.”

Simon laughed, then sobered, “Is that possible?”

“No… Probably not anyway.” He gave the younger man a reassuring grin, “Ianto’s a professional.”

“Hmmm.”

---

Inside the warehouse, operation Cheeky Vimto was progressing apace. John had got three bags of the new memory drug spread around the place and being sold as uppers, whilst Ianto was slipping more into drinks. It was a new formula without the sedative and acted immediately, so people were effectively put into a dream state and would remember no details of what happened from the instant they took the pill until the effects wore off six hours later. John had suggested pumping cannabis fumes into the room, but that had been vetoed with alacrity.

He made his way around the edge of the room, slipping yet more pills into unattended drinks. He’s tried to get into the back room, but had been sent on his way in no uncertain terms. Still, it was reassuring to know that the “Sorry, thought it was the toilet” line did work. He was almost back at the bar now, and grinned at Ianto’s serene expression, which he knew very well his dark feelings of “going to stab someone in a moment or screw Jack into the mattress when we get home”. Jack liked it when he got that look on his face, and had occasionally paid Owen, the late Torchwood medic, to cause the exact same expression.

John cleared his throat and slid up to the bar between it and a group of very drunken revellers. He checked his watch and grinned at Ianto, “I’ll have a…” The doors burst open and the lights all went out as Liberty Towers stormed the building. He raised his voice and leaned forwards, “A blast off please.”

---

Jack scanned the room and noted the island of calm among the mad panic that was John slipping behind the bar to duck below it with Ianto and smiled grimly. Now that those two were safely out of the way they could start moving people out to the Liberty Towers vans where their memories would be modified and they would be sent on their way with false memories of a noisy, drunken mess, vomiting, an unpleasant fumble in the toilets and a bad trip. Not quite as satisfying as retconning them back to puberty, but possibly more vindictive; and all in the name of negative reinforcement.

He looked around the room again as the doors closed, cutting off all light, so only the three of them and the Liberty Towers team, all of whom had night vision contact lenses, could see. The DJ booth was quite close to where he was, so he made his way over to it and used a portable piggy-backer to give it just enough power to be useful, “Ladies and gentlemen, this is a government raid.” Not technically true but it shut them up and would hopefully drag out the people they wanted to be dragged out. His eyes never stopped scanning as he spoke, reassuring the crowd, giving instructions. Two Liberty Towers guards took up positions by the door whilst others huddled close by, ready to move on his orders, “Right, you will be escorted from the building in an orderly fashion for questioning, then released. I suggest you go home and sleep it off. Gentlemen, it’s all yours.”

Four hours later and everyone in the building was now out of the building, the civilians on their way home and the not-so civilians locked up to be taken care of later. Seven Weevils had been removed from storage cells in one of the back rooms and were on their way to be flown back to Cardiff. Jack wiped his forehead and grinned at Simon, “What have we got?”

“Two dozen complicit, five different alien drugs, no one in overall control though, orders come from higher up and he’ll have moved on.”

Jack nodded, suddenly grim, “We’ll get him.”

A shout came from behind them where Ianto and John stood talking quietly, or not so quietly now. John was on the phone, his face deathly pale, and Ianto was beckoning to Jack. “Jack, we’ve got a problem.”

John snapped the phone shut and fished his keys out, “Jazz and Nick.” He started, stopped, shook his head, started again, “Jasmine and Nick have been taken, from a crime scene. I’ve got to…”

Jack nodded, cutting off his explanation, “Go!”