[#025] Single-Minded (Torchwood)

[badly_knitted]

Theme Prompt: #025 – One-Track Mind
Title: Single-Minded
Fandom: Torchwood.
Rating/Warnings: G / None
Bonus: Yes.
Word Count: 999
Summary: Seemingly by chance, Jack meets Ianto Jones, a young man who apparently has one goal in life: to join Torchwood Three.


The first time could have been nothing more than random chance. Bute Park was extensive, lots of people used it, both day and night, for varying reasons; family picnics, walking their dogs, jogging, lover’s trysts, even certain criminal activities.

Jack had been attempting to deal with a rambunctious Weevil; his hero, lunging to the rescue and whacking the Weevil with a big stick, might merely have been out for a walk or, going by the way he was dressed, looking for company. Jack would be the last person to judge a man for that; it would be the height of hypocrisy. He’d certainly liked what he was seeing, although he’d managed to keep his mind on the business at hand. Weevils could be unpredictable; even though he’d managed to subdue and sedate it, getting distracted would have been a bad idea. He still needed to get it back to the Hub and ensconced in a cell before it woke up.

So he’d been polite, thanked his unexpected helper, asked his name, for future reference, introduced himself, because why not? Jones, Ianto Jones had been quite forward, something Jack liked in a man, but he’d wanted to keep the stranger at arm’s length; best not have to Retcon him, which would become necessary if Jones got a good look at the rapidly healing bite on Jack’s neck.

Then the guy went and proved he knew more than he should.

“Looked like a Weevil to me.”

That was reason enough to get defensive. This chance encounter was starting to appear less than random; he’d have to do some checking up on Jones, but in the meantime…

“No idea what you’re talking about. Thanks for the assistance.”

“Anytime. By the way, love the coat.”

Now what was that all about?

Jack got an inkling the next morning.

When he stepped out of the tourist office onto Mermaid Quay, there was Ianto Jones, waiting for him, with a steaming mug of coffee in his hands. No takeaway container, this, but a genuine heavy china mug, and the aroma hanging on the air was that of freshly brewed ground coffee, not instant. It made Jack’s mouth water, as did the sight of Jones himself; tight jeans, open-necked shirt revealing just a hint of chest hair, the eye drawn in that direction by a necklace at Ianto’s throat. He looked… lickable.

“Coffee?”

Jack knew he should probably refuse, but he couldn’t resist just a sip; it was easily as good as it smelled. “Wow!” One sip was all he allowed himself however; he knew who this guy was, a former junior researcher at Torchwood’s London branch, one of a mere handful who’d survived the massacre at Canary Wharf, which put him totally off limits in Jack’s considered opinion. Nothing good had ever come out of Torchwood One.

“I want to work for you.”

“Sorry. No vacancies.” Not for the delectable Mr Jones, not now and not ever.

Jones wasn’t giving up though, for whatever reason he was determined, insistent, almost pleading.

“Trial period, three months. Three weeks. Three days! I’ll work for nothing.”

“You’re not my responsibility.” Was that a bit harsh after what Jones must have been through? Tough; the people at One made their bed…

“Same time tomorrow then. I really like that coat.”

Flattery would get Ianto Jones precisely nowhere; it was almost a shame.

Night fell, and Jack was returning to the Hub when a figure stepped out in front of the SUV, forcing him to slam on the brakes, screeching to a halt just in time to avoid hitting… Ianto Jones. Did the man never give up? How many times did Jack have to say ‘no’ to him before he got the message? When it came to gaining employment with Torchwood Three, he was single-minded, bordering on obsessive.

“Here we go again,” Jack muttered to himself, climbing out of the vehicle into the relentless drizzle. This time Jones was dressed in a smart suit and looking quite dapper.

“Okay, this has to stop.”

Back and forth they went, Jack laying down the law, young mister Jones trying to get a word in edgewise, until Jack, after threatening to drive right over his stalker, turned to get back in the SUV.

“You’re not gonna help me catch this pterodactyl then?”

If any phrase was guaranteed to stop Jack in his tracks that was it. A pterodactyl in Cardiff? A genuine prehistoric flying lizard? This he absolutely had to see… and it was exactly as Ianto had described; not something even Torchwood saw every day, or ever come to that. As far as Jack knew, this was a first. He wasn’t exactly equipped for catching dinosaurs, but that wasn’t about to stop him. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and besides, leaving it roaming Cardiff would be irresponsible.

Plus, it was fun, the easy banter flying between himself and Ianto, the adrenaline rush of doing something insanely dangerous, trying to soothe the agitated creature…

Ianto seemed a little miffed that Jack was willing to let the pterodactyl join Torchwood, but not him, but, “We need a guard dog,” Jack explained.

Jones was full of surprises, not least that he knew the pterodactyl liked dark chocolate. It was doubtful he’d discovered that little nugget of information on google.

Taking the world’s first flight by pterodactyl wasn’t something he’d planned, but Jack went with the flow, succeeded in sedating the creature, then fell into Ianto’s arms, which really wasn’t a bad turn of events. Ianto was warm, solid, and very pleasant to roll around with.

“I should go.”

Jack would have liked to say, “No, stay,” but instead he went with “Report for work first thing tomorrow. Like the suit by the way.”

It was odd though; for someone who’d been so single-mindedly determined to gain employment with Torchwood Three, Ianto Jones didn’t seem as happy as Jack would have expected.

Well, that was a mystery for him to unravel another day.


The End