(![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
blucougar.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
antigwenallies Jul. 21st, 2009 03:08 pm)
blucougar.livejournal.com posting in antigwenallies Jul. 21st, 2009 03:08 pm)Title: “How To Harass A Harpy 101” or “The Winchesters Take Over Torchwood”
Author: blucougar57
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Gwen bashing; character death; crack!fic
Characters: Jack, Ianto, Gwen, Dean & Sam Winchester
Summary: I present my apparently misogynistic fic for the crossover challenge. Supernatural meets Torchwood. This is my first real effort at serious Gwen-bashing, and Torchwood crack!fic. You have been warned.
Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood or Supernatural. More’s the pity.
Beta: None
"How To Harass A Harpy 101" or "The Winchesters Take Over Torchwood"
“I hate you. You know that, don’t you?”
Sam Winchester had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at the aggravated tone his brother was using.
“Yeah, dude. You’ve told me at least three times just in the last ten minutes.”
Dean scowled and looked away, tugging his coat more firmly around his body.
“I’m just saying, surely there are hunters in a sucky town like this who could have dealt with the issue? Why the hell did we have to come all the way over here ourselves?”
“I told you,” Sam said, not for the first time and most like not for the last, either. “We’re the only ones he said he could trust.”
“We don’t even know who he is,” Dean pointed out. “Just some freaky dude in an outdated coat who reckons he knew Dad.”
“Shut up, Dean,” Sam growled. “Here he comes.”
Dean scowled even more deeply, but fell silent as a tall, exceptionally good-looking man in period World War II clothing crossed the road and threw himself into an empty chair at their table.
“Dean and Sam Winchester,” the newcomer announced, a little too loudly for either brothers’ liking. “Welcome to sunny Cardiff.”
Even Sam looked doubtful at that. There had been no sign of the sun from the moment they set foot on Welsh soil and, had it not been for the fact that Wales’ reputation preceded it, both brothers would have suspected some foul entity was responsible.
“And who are you, exactly…?” Dean asked finally, reluctantly accepting the outstretched hand. “We kinda missed some of the essential details, you know?”
“Captain Jack Harkness. Thanks for coming, boys. I know this is way out of your territory…”
“You can say that again,” Dean grumbled, only to grunt when Sam elbowed him in the ribs. “Dude, what the…?”
Sam pointedly ignored him, returning his attention to Jack.
“Captain Harkness…”
“Call me Jack. The only ones I expect to call me Captain Harkness are the idiots from UNIT, or the Prime Minister’s office.”
Sam made a sincere effort to avoid making any sort of face.
“Jack. You said you knew our dad.”
The ever-present smirk faded from Jack’s face.
“I didn’t know John well… I guess you could say I knew his reputation better than the man himself, but I have a hell of a lot of respect for your father, and I was sorry to hear that he died. It’s good to see his boys have taken up where he left off.”
Dean and Sam exchanged glances. Neither one was unaffected by the genuine respect and sadness in their companion’s voice, and it went a long way to soothing frazzled nerves. Nevertheless, Dean was in no mood to pussyfoot around. He leaned forward, and spoke tensely.
“Look, we appreciate the sentiment, but the bottom line is you’ve dragged our asses halfway around the world, and we’d like to know why. Because frankly, I hate travelling any place I can’t get to in my Impala, and it had better be damned good for me to have put up with a thirteen hour flight. Okay?"
To Dean’s irritation, and Sam’s amusement, the grin was back.
“Okay, I got it. You’d like to get the job done, and get home as quickly as possible. That’s fine by me. And I tell you what, you help me with this problem I have? I’ll get you home in the blink of an eye, and you won’t have to set foot anywhere near a plane. How does that sound?”
“It sounds crazy,” Dean stated flatly. “How about you just tell us what you need us to do?”
Jack glanced at Sam.
“Your brother’s kinda hot when he’s pissy.”
Sam choked back a laugh. The look on Dean’s face was priceless, and Sam knew he’d be in for it later if he actually laughed out loud. Smirking obnoxiously, Jack launched himself out of his seat.
“Come with me. I’ll take you to my base, and explain about our little problem on the way.”
* * *
“So let me get this straight,” Sam said as Jack ushered them onto a pavement stone in front of the sculpture that loomed over their heads. “You live in a secret, underground base. You have two colleagues; one of which you’re… involved with, and the other would like to be involved with you?”
Jack grimaced – possibly the first time they’d seen him do that since they’d first met him face to face. He looked like he’d just remembered a particularly unpleasant encounter with a slug.
“Gwen. Yeah. She’s the one I called you about. The truth is, I’m starting to think she might be an alien infiltrator, or something worse. My problem is that Ianto and I are too close to be able to observe her neutrally. We need a couple of fresh perspectives. You guys don’t know her, so you can form an unbiased opinion, and let us know whether you agree with me.”
“So, you’re gonna what?” Dean wondered. “Just introduce us as potential team members?”
Jack nodded, looking thoroughly proud of himself.
“Yup. I’ll say you’re here on probation, to see how you cope with the job. We’ve been looking for new people anyway, so she’ll buy the story.”
“And… you do know we specialise in demonic forces?” Dean asked, still not sure how seriously he should take the oddball in the blue coat. “Not… aliens?”
He barely managed to say the word without laughing, but Jack didn’t appear to notice. Instead, the Captain nodded seriously.
“Figured I’d have all my bases covered. With her powers of manipulation, it wouldn’t surprise me in the least if she did turn out to be some sort of demon. In which case… You do exorcisms, right?”
Sam couldn’t quite hide his grin.
“Yeah.”
And Jack’s face lit up like a Christmas tree.
“Brilliant. Hang on, down we go.”
* * *
The Winchester boys were impressed, and that said a lot.
“You really do have a secret underground base,” Dean remarked. “Nice.”
“Told you,” Jack retorted.
“What are you, ten?” Dean snarked, and Jack uttered a short laugh.
“A little bit more than that. Ah, Ianto!”
Ianto Jones approached with a wry smile as the lift settled into its slot on the floor of the Hub.
“Dean and Sam Winchester, meet Ianto Jones. My right-hand man, Archivist, coffee-god extraordinaire and, most importantly, my fiancée.”
Dean stared from one man to the other, looking for all the world like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck.
“Fiancée. Nice. Congratulations. I think.”
Ianto smirked visibly.
“Gwen is currently down the cells, feeding Janet and complaining rather loudly that it isn’t her job. I had to turn the speakers off. She was starting to grate.”
“She won’t be long, then,” Jack murmured.
“Who’s Janet?” Sam wondered.
“Our resident weevil,” Jack answered. “We’ll introduce you later.”
“Heads up, here she comes,” Ianto said in a low undertone. Dean and Sam turned and got their first look at their designated target.
“She’s a vamp, definitely,” Dean said without so much as a second thought.
“Wishful thinking,” Ianto muttered. “If only it was as simple as shoving her out into the sunlight…”
“Gwen,” Jack announced in a booming voice, “meet our two newest potential recruits, Dean and Sam Winchester. Gentlemen, meet Gwen Cooper.”
Gwen approached them with an appraising look that suggested to both men that she was interested in more than just their CVs.
“Brothers, I take it?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Sam answered automatically, and promptly found himself wanting to cringe away from the gap-toothed grin that he found himself on the receiving end of.
“Oh, lovely. It’ll be nice to have a bit of fresh blood about the place. Well, it’s nice to meet you both, but if you’ll excuse me, Jack and I have some reports to go over. I’m sure Ianto won’t mind showing you around, though. Will you, pet?”
Without waiting for an answer, she turned and stalked away to Jack’s office, not even bothering to look back over her shoulder to make sure he was behind her.
“Fresh blood?” Dean echoed once they’d disappeared into Jack’s office. “Are you sure you want to be so quick to dismiss the vamp possibility? Because seriously, we could stake her, cut her head off and burn her body if she is.”
Ianto looked torn for a good several seconds before shaking his head.
“We’re positive she’s no vampire. Harpy, on the other hand…”
* * *
“Where is Jack?”
Dean and Sam looked up from their respective computers, on which they had been studiously observing Gwen for the better part of the morning, to find themselves on the receiving end of a full-blown and clearly much-practised pout. It was a look that had no effect whatsoever on either one.
“He, uh… He and Ianto went out,” Sam said. “For coffee… and a walk… Fresh air, you know?”
“Oh,” Gwen murmured, looking suddenly crestfallen. “Oh… Well… I think I might just…”
She turned abruptly and hurried out of the Hub, without even finishing her sentence.
“You sly little bitch, Sammy,” Dean said with a short, sharp laugh. “You know they went out to look for one of those weevil things.”
“I know,” Sam said with a shrug as he began to access the exterior CCTV. “But this way we get to watch her without worrying about getting caught. Did you see the way she lit out of here when she thought they were off having a…”
“Don’t say it,” Dean warned him. “You say it, and I’ll have no choice but to shoot you.”
Sam stood with his jaw clamped shut, and a knowing grin on his face. Dean stared threateningly at him for several seconds before returning his attention to the computer monitor. A moment later, Sam spoke in a low mutter that was nevertheless heard all-too-clearly by his older brother.
“Shag.”
He barely ducked in time to avoid the alien rock paperweight that came hurtling across the room towards his head.
* * *
Gwen emerged out onto the Plass, looking around anxiously for some sign of her Captain and the bloody tea boy. She was hurt that Jack hadn’t bothered to tell her that he wanted to go for a walk. She would have been more than happy to go with him, had he just asked. Then, he wouldn’t have needed to resort to turning to Ianto for company.
She felt a sneer twisting her lips at the thought of Ianto, and found herself torn between disgust and pity. He was a sad little boy who had no clue about the real world, unlike herself who had real life experience. Jack did him no favours by sheltering him the way that he did. Indeed, if she’d had her way, Ianto would have been retconned well and truly after that cyber-girlfriend incident. He’d had a lucky escape there, without a doubt – playing on Jack’s emotions the way he had.
Of course, her desire to see Ianto gone from Torchwood had nothing at all to do with an inherent need to eliminate the competition with Jack. Ianto was no threat to her. Any time that Jack spent with him was only out of pity for a sad little boy with no hope for a life of his own.
Even so, that was no reason for her to give him a free hand where Jack was concerned. No, sometimes it was just necessary for her to step in, and remind Jack that she was there, and he needed to pay her the attention she rightly deserved as his second-in-command and – dare she suggest – his one true soul mate.
Oh, she loved Rhys. There was no doubting that, but what she shared with Jack was so much more than anything she and Rhys could ever hope to share. In reality, Rhys was just a stop-gap until Jack came fully to his senses and realised they were meant to be with each other. Then she could ditch Rhys, Jack could ditch the pathetic tea boy, and they’d finally be happy.
There was no sign of them. She frowned darkly, coming to the reluctant realisation that her beloved Captain was not actually anywhere nearby. Why, then, had Sam said he was up here? Frowning, she turned and stalked back into the Hub.
* * *
“Not a vamp, then,” Dean remarked, sounding surprisingly disappointed. Sam shook his head.
“Nope. Not a vamp. So... what else have we got?”
A grin literally spread across Dean’s face.
“Didya bring the holy water with you...?”
* * *
Jack and Ianto walked into the Hub after an unsuccessful but nevertheless exhilarating hunt to indignant shrieks from their co-worker. They ventured forward slowly, only to find themselves struggling not to laugh at the sight of Gwen sitting in the pool at the base of the water tower, soaked and shivering.
“What happened here?” Ianto asked, although he half suspected he already knew. Dean and Sam both sported identical looks of angelic innocence – a look that strangely came off better with Dean than it did with Sam. Gwen, however, was not going to stay silent.
“One of them pushed me in!” she shrieked. “I was just walking past, and the next thing I know I’m sitting here, all wet! Jack, don’t just stand there! Do something!”
He stared at her for so long that none of them quite knew what to expect. Finally, he spoke.
“Go and dry yourself off. You still have those reports on weevil migrations to do.”
He then turned on his heel and headed for his office without another word. Furious, Gwen hauled herself up out of the water and stormed off towards the shower room with as much dignity as she could muster. It wasn’t very much.
Ianto watched her go with ill-concealed amusement before looking back quizzically at the Winchester boys for an explanation. Dean smiled apologetically.
“So, she’s not possessed, either.”
“And you came to that conclusion by pushing her into the pool? Not that I’m complaining, of course...”
“Well, we were gonna just flick some holy water over her,” Dean explained, “but then we figured the only way to be absolutely sure was full immersion. So, we emptied the holy water we brought into the pool, and the first chance we got...”
Ianto had to cover his mouth to stop himself from laughing as he walked quickly away. He was enjoying this far too much for his own good. Dean watched him go with a grin before looking back to his little brother.
“So, we’ve covered vampire and demonic possession. What’s next?”
* * *
Gwen liked salt. She really did. It was great as an additive to Rhys’ meals, most of which tasted like cardboard to her without it. It was also very useful for practical jokes, like sprinkling into Ianto’s coffee when he wasn’t looking, and letting the poor child think Jack had done it.
What she didn’t like, not one bit, was being knocked clean off her feet by Dean Winchester’s sawed-off shotgun, which apparently was packed full of rock salt. Not only did it thoroughly ruin her carefully prepared hair and makeup, and spoil the clothes that she had specifically chosen for the purpose of seducing Jack, it also bloody hurt. A lot.
She lay on the floor of the Hub, just near the door that led up from the holding cells, barely able to breathe. She was also acutely aware of the amusement of her colleagues, who were doing absolutely nothing to help her.
“Sorry about that,” Dean remarked, sounding anything but sorry. “Thought one of those weevil things had escaped. Lightning reflexes, you know?”
“Not to worry,” Ianto assured him in such a smug tone that Gwen would have gotten up and smacked him, had she had the strength. “No harm done.”
“Rock salt?” Jack queried.
“We use it to slow down ghosts, demons… That sort of thing.”
Someone snickered, and if she didn’t know any better, she would have thought it was Jack. That couldn’t be, though. He wouldn’t laugh at her, unless he was just trying to make Ianto feel better about himself. The thought vanished as Jack pulled her to her feet. Her heart raced at the contact. Surely this was the perfect opportunity for him to take her in his arms, even if it was under the guise of comfort…
She blinked in confusion as he propelled her past him, towards the shower room for the second time that day.
“Go clean yourself up, Gwen. And next time, try not to startle the newbies.”
“What…? Jack, he shot me!!! With bloody rock salt!”
Jack nodded, his expression utterly serious.
“And you should consider yourself very lucky that that’s all it was. Now, go. You have that liaison meeting with Kathy Swanson this afternoon, remember?”
She faltered, her eyes widening deliberately and going watery.
“You’re coming with me, aren’t you, Jack?”
Jack visibly winced under the power of her pout.
“Uh… Yeah… Sure. Just go get cleaned up, okay?”
Suddenly perky again, she turned and practically skipped away. Once she was out of hearing range, Jack looked helplessly at Dean and Sam.
“See what I mean?”
“Yeah,” Dean muttered ruefully. “She’s got her claws in deep, dude.”
“Maybe we’ve got it wrong,” Sam mused. “Maybe it’s worse than her just being a plain vamp, or demon. Maybe she’s a combination?”
“Oh god, I don’t want to know,” Ianto muttered.
“I do,” Jack insisted. “The sooner we know, the sooner we can work out how to get rid of her. I don’t want to kill her, only to find out I’ve fucked up royally. She’s dangerous enough now. I don’t want to risk her doing anything to Ianto because I made a mistake with the way I deal with her.”
“Chill out, El Capitan,” Dean told him. “We’ll figure it out. One way or another.”
“Well, I’m not in any particular hurry,” Ianto commented as Jack stalked away. “Just between us, I’m rather enjoying this.”
Sam smirked, and inclined his head towards Dean.
“So’s he.”
* * *
By the end of the day, Gwen was starting to have niggling doubts about the legitimacy of Jack’s so-called new recruits. It wasn’t the unexpected swimming lesson in the Hub pool. It wasn’t getting shot with rock salt. It wasn’t even finishing up her reports (or rather, half-finishing them and hoping Ianto could be conned into doing the rest) to discover someone had drawn a huge chalk pentagram around her workspace.
What really tipped her suspicions was when she finally decided to Google Dean and Sam Winchester, and discovered they were quite infamous in the shady world of ghost and demon hunting. She supposed she could see a tenuous connection between demon hunting and alien catching – really, how much different could it really be? – but her well-honed instincts were starting to tell her that they hadn’t come to Cardiff for a job opportunity.
Pouting, even though Jack wasn’t within sight to be influenced – she looked around for the source of her suspicions, but they were nowhere in sight. Come to think of it, neither were Jack or Ianto.
Panic bit hard and deep. She’d been so engrossed in looking for something to discredit the newbies with, that she hadn’t noticed everyone leave. Frantically, she fiddled with her computer until she accidentally managed to activate the Hub’s CCTV program. She found Jack quickly enough, but her relief was short-lived. He was down in the holding cell with Ianto, and they were currently snogging each other senseless!
Horrified, Gwen almost fell out of her chair in her haste to get down there and intervene. Not for herself, of course, but to stop Jack from so cruelly leading Ianto on, and letting him think he had even a ghost of a chance with the dashing Captain…
She ran into the holding cell area, and into the special isolation cell where she’d seen them… only to discover it empty. She stood there in confusion, only to shriek as the door slammed shut behind her, locking her in. Wheeling around, she hammered on the door.
“Let me out! Open this door, right now! Ianto? Are you there? Jack! Someone! Let me out!”
On the other side of the door, Dean exchanged a smirk with his brother before speaking.
“Gwen? That you? How’d you get yourself locked in there?”
“I thought I saw… Never mind, just get me out of here!”
“Sure… Uh… There are an awful lot of buttons here. Which ones should I press?”
Gwen let her breath out in a steadying rush. She was almost positive this had been someone’s (ie, Ianto’s) idea of a sick joke, and she was going to have someone’s (ie, Ianto’s) arse for it when she got out.
“Just press the blue button. The green one will lock the cell down and release a fatal nerve gas. We use it to get rid of the really nasty aliens.”
“Oh, well, that’s good to know,” Dean agreed. “I definitely wouldn’t want to mix those two buttons up, would I? Oh, by the way, did I happen to mention that I’m colour blind?”
Gwen froze.
“You’re… sorry?”
Dean hit the button. Immediately, there was a loud bang as the cell locked down, followed seconds later by the sharp hiss of gas filling the small area. The older Winchester brother gave Sam his best wide-eyed innocent look.
“Oops. Did I press the wrong button?”
Sam nodded gravely.
“And Jack and Ianto went out for coffee five minutes ago. Darn it. Whatever will we do?”
Inside the cell, Gwen opened her mouth to tell them to press the emergency stop button on the wall that, funnily enough, read ‘Emergency Stop’. She suffered a mouth and lungful of gas, though, and suddenly she could no longer speak. Her eyes watered and she gagged helplessly as her muscles all began to seize up. She dropped to the floor and lay there, twitching helplessly as she listened to their voices on the other side of the door, gushing a sympathy that, in her final moments, she began to strongly suspect was false.
“Don’t you worry about anything, Gwen. Jack’ll take good care of Rhys. He won’t remember a thing about you. In fact, I think they’ll probably just retcon themselves as well, so they don’t have to suffer the pain of mourning for you.”
Tears leaked from Gwen’s eyes, wasted on the cold, unforgiving cement floor. Jack would come for her, she was sure of it. Any second now, he’d come charging in and save her. Except, he wasn’t, and as blackness overtook her, she realised she was as pathetic and alone as she had always imagined Ianto to be…
* * *
“All clear?” Dean asked ten minutes later. Sam nodded.
“All clear. The gas is gone. Now, we just need to salt and burn the body. Last thing Jack and Ianto need is to be haunted by the harpy.”
“Except, she’s not really,” Dean admitted, with just the slightest hint of regret. Sam raised an eyebrow as he opened the heavy door to reveal Gwen’s still, grey-skinned form.
“Does it matter?”
Dean couldn’t help but grin.
“Nah. That was a neat trick, by the way, routing old CCTV footage of Jack and Ianto through her computer to lure her down here.”
Sam snorted.
“After she couldn’t resist chasing after them this morning when I said they’d gone for coffee and a walk, I figured it wouldn’t take much more than that to get her down here. Silly cow didn’t even bother checking the date on the footage. If she had, she would have known it was a year and a half old. Now, c’mon! We get this done before Jack and Ianto get back, and we can be home by nightfall.”
Enthused, Dean helped his brother carry Gwen’s body to the furnace room for salting and burning.
* * *
Jack and Ianto returned to the Hub to find it encased by a blissful silence. The two men exchanged puzzled but hopeful looks as they approached the Winchester boys.
“So…” Ianto said tentatively. “Either Gwen has gone home for the night, or…”
The smug grins that met them sent their hearts and hopes soaring.
“You did it!” Jack crowed, and dove forward to engulf Dean in a huge hug.
“Whoa, dude! Respect the personal space!” Dean burst out, extracting himself as quickly as he could from Jack’s arms. “And yeah, of course we did it. Turned out to be easier than we thought it was going to be.”
“So tell us all,” Jack encouraged them as Ianto hurried to Jack’s office to get the whisky.
“Well, we came to the conclusion that she was definitely a harpy,” Sam explained. “Not full blood, of course, but enough to be real trouble to whoever she fixates on.”
“Which would be Jack,” Ianto concluded as he poured drinks for all. Dean nodded.
“Got it in one. Luckily, it’s pretty easy to get rid of a harpy, so long as it doesn’t get wind of your intentions. And since this particular one was kinda stupid, it made it even easier.”
“So all we did was lure her into your isolation cell, and then we gassed her. She even told us which button to push! So once the gas was cleared, we took the body to the furnace, salted it and burned it. Your problem is solved, fellas.”
Silence reigned, and Jack and Ianto exchanged awkward looks.
“What?” Sam asked, frowning a little. “What’s wrong?”
“Exactly what did she tell you about the gas that we use in the isolation cell?” Ianto asked quietly.
“That it was a fatal nerve gas,” Sam answered. “Why?”
Jack smiled ruefully.
“We told Gwen that after she got herself locked in there. We figured that if she thought it might kill her, then she’d be a bit more careful.”
“So… What are you saying?” Dean pressed. “That it wasn’t nerve gas?”
“Oh, it was nerve gas,” Jack confirmed. “But not the fatal kind. It’s designed to induce temporary paralysis, that’s all.”
Dean and Sam sat frozen, their mouths open in identical looks of horror.
“You mean…” Sam stammered, “she was still alive when…?”
“Afraid so,” Jack said. “Look, if it bothers you, there’s always retcon. I don’t want either of you feeling guilty for what basically amounts to performing a public service.”
Dean shook his head, and held up his hands defensively.
“No, I’ll keep my memories, thanks. And like you said, it was a public service. We watched her for one day, and that was more than enough time to convince me she needed to be dealt with. I just hope you’re more careful in future with who you hire, El Capitan.”
Jack offered them a trademark leer that had Dean well and truly cringing.
“You mean you don’t want to stay? Three might be a crowd, but four’s definitely a party…”
Dean stared at him, unimpressed, while neither Ianto nor Sam even bothered to try and hide their laughter.
“Dude. Don’t make me get out the rock salt again.”
fin
Author: blucougar57
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Gwen bashing; character death; crack!fic
Characters: Jack, Ianto, Gwen, Dean & Sam Winchester
Summary: I present my apparently misogynistic fic for the crossover challenge. Supernatural meets Torchwood. This is my first real effort at serious Gwen-bashing, and Torchwood crack!fic. You have been warned.
Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood or Supernatural. More’s the pity.
Beta: None
“I hate you. You know that, don’t you?”
Sam Winchester had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at the aggravated tone his brother was using.
“Yeah, dude. You’ve told me at least three times just in the last ten minutes.”
Dean scowled and looked away, tugging his coat more firmly around his body.
“I’m just saying, surely there are hunters in a sucky town like this who could have dealt with the issue? Why the hell did we have to come all the way over here ourselves?”
“I told you,” Sam said, not for the first time and most like not for the last, either. “We’re the only ones he said he could trust.”
“We don’t even know who he is,” Dean pointed out. “Just some freaky dude in an outdated coat who reckons he knew Dad.”
“Shut up, Dean,” Sam growled. “Here he comes.”
Dean scowled even more deeply, but fell silent as a tall, exceptionally good-looking man in period World War II clothing crossed the road and threw himself into an empty chair at their table.
“Dean and Sam Winchester,” the newcomer announced, a little too loudly for either brothers’ liking. “Welcome to sunny Cardiff.”
Even Sam looked doubtful at that. There had been no sign of the sun from the moment they set foot on Welsh soil and, had it not been for the fact that Wales’ reputation preceded it, both brothers would have suspected some foul entity was responsible.
“And who are you, exactly…?” Dean asked finally, reluctantly accepting the outstretched hand. “We kinda missed some of the essential details, you know?”
“Captain Jack Harkness. Thanks for coming, boys. I know this is way out of your territory…”
“You can say that again,” Dean grumbled, only to grunt when Sam elbowed him in the ribs. “Dude, what the…?”
Sam pointedly ignored him, returning his attention to Jack.
“Captain Harkness…”
“Call me Jack. The only ones I expect to call me Captain Harkness are the idiots from UNIT, or the Prime Minister’s office.”
Sam made a sincere effort to avoid making any sort of face.
“Jack. You said you knew our dad.”
The ever-present smirk faded from Jack’s face.
“I didn’t know John well… I guess you could say I knew his reputation better than the man himself, but I have a hell of a lot of respect for your father, and I was sorry to hear that he died. It’s good to see his boys have taken up where he left off.”
Dean and Sam exchanged glances. Neither one was unaffected by the genuine respect and sadness in their companion’s voice, and it went a long way to soothing frazzled nerves. Nevertheless, Dean was in no mood to pussyfoot around. He leaned forward, and spoke tensely.
“Look, we appreciate the sentiment, but the bottom line is you’ve dragged our asses halfway around the world, and we’d like to know why. Because frankly, I hate travelling any place I can’t get to in my Impala, and it had better be damned good for me to have put up with a thirteen hour flight. Okay?"
To Dean’s irritation, and Sam’s amusement, the grin was back.
“Okay, I got it. You’d like to get the job done, and get home as quickly as possible. That’s fine by me. And I tell you what, you help me with this problem I have? I’ll get you home in the blink of an eye, and you won’t have to set foot anywhere near a plane. How does that sound?”
“It sounds crazy,” Dean stated flatly. “How about you just tell us what you need us to do?”
Jack glanced at Sam.
“Your brother’s kinda hot when he’s pissy.”
Sam choked back a laugh. The look on Dean’s face was priceless, and Sam knew he’d be in for it later if he actually laughed out loud. Smirking obnoxiously, Jack launched himself out of his seat.
“Come with me. I’ll take you to my base, and explain about our little problem on the way.”
“So let me get this straight,” Sam said as Jack ushered them onto a pavement stone in front of the sculpture that loomed over their heads. “You live in a secret, underground base. You have two colleagues; one of which you’re… involved with, and the other would like to be involved with you?”
Jack grimaced – possibly the first time they’d seen him do that since they’d first met him face to face. He looked like he’d just remembered a particularly unpleasant encounter with a slug.
“Gwen. Yeah. She’s the one I called you about. The truth is, I’m starting to think she might be an alien infiltrator, or something worse. My problem is that Ianto and I are too close to be able to observe her neutrally. We need a couple of fresh perspectives. You guys don’t know her, so you can form an unbiased opinion, and let us know whether you agree with me.”
“So, you’re gonna what?” Dean wondered. “Just introduce us as potential team members?”
Jack nodded, looking thoroughly proud of himself.
“Yup. I’ll say you’re here on probation, to see how you cope with the job. We’ve been looking for new people anyway, so she’ll buy the story.”
“And… you do know we specialise in demonic forces?” Dean asked, still not sure how seriously he should take the oddball in the blue coat. “Not… aliens?”
He barely managed to say the word without laughing, but Jack didn’t appear to notice. Instead, the Captain nodded seriously.
“Figured I’d have all my bases covered. With her powers of manipulation, it wouldn’t surprise me in the least if she did turn out to be some sort of demon. In which case… You do exorcisms, right?”
Sam couldn’t quite hide his grin.
“Yeah.”
And Jack’s face lit up like a Christmas tree.
“Brilliant. Hang on, down we go.”
The Winchester boys were impressed, and that said a lot.
“You really do have a secret underground base,” Dean remarked. “Nice.”
“Told you,” Jack retorted.
“What are you, ten?” Dean snarked, and Jack uttered a short laugh.
“A little bit more than that. Ah, Ianto!”
Ianto Jones approached with a wry smile as the lift settled into its slot on the floor of the Hub.
“Dean and Sam Winchester, meet Ianto Jones. My right-hand man, Archivist, coffee-god extraordinaire and, most importantly, my fiancée.”
Dean stared from one man to the other, looking for all the world like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck.
“Fiancée. Nice. Congratulations. I think.”
Ianto smirked visibly.
“Gwen is currently down the cells, feeding Janet and complaining rather loudly that it isn’t her job. I had to turn the speakers off. She was starting to grate.”
“She won’t be long, then,” Jack murmured.
“Who’s Janet?” Sam wondered.
“Our resident weevil,” Jack answered. “We’ll introduce you later.”
“Heads up, here she comes,” Ianto said in a low undertone. Dean and Sam turned and got their first look at their designated target.
“She’s a vamp, definitely,” Dean said without so much as a second thought.
“Wishful thinking,” Ianto muttered. “If only it was as simple as shoving her out into the sunlight…”
“Gwen,” Jack announced in a booming voice, “meet our two newest potential recruits, Dean and Sam Winchester. Gentlemen, meet Gwen Cooper.”
Gwen approached them with an appraising look that suggested to both men that she was interested in more than just their CVs.
“Brothers, I take it?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Sam answered automatically, and promptly found himself wanting to cringe away from the gap-toothed grin that he found himself on the receiving end of.
“Oh, lovely. It’ll be nice to have a bit of fresh blood about the place. Well, it’s nice to meet you both, but if you’ll excuse me, Jack and I have some reports to go over. I’m sure Ianto won’t mind showing you around, though. Will you, pet?”
Without waiting for an answer, she turned and stalked away to Jack’s office, not even bothering to look back over her shoulder to make sure he was behind her.
“Fresh blood?” Dean echoed once they’d disappeared into Jack’s office. “Are you sure you want to be so quick to dismiss the vamp possibility? Because seriously, we could stake her, cut her head off and burn her body if she is.”
Ianto looked torn for a good several seconds before shaking his head.
“We’re positive she’s no vampire. Harpy, on the other hand…”
“Where is Jack?”
Dean and Sam looked up from their respective computers, on which they had been studiously observing Gwen for the better part of the morning, to find themselves on the receiving end of a full-blown and clearly much-practised pout. It was a look that had no effect whatsoever on either one.
“He, uh… He and Ianto went out,” Sam said. “For coffee… and a walk… Fresh air, you know?”
“Oh,” Gwen murmured, looking suddenly crestfallen. “Oh… Well… I think I might just…”
She turned abruptly and hurried out of the Hub, without even finishing her sentence.
“You sly little bitch, Sammy,” Dean said with a short, sharp laugh. “You know they went out to look for one of those weevil things.”
“I know,” Sam said with a shrug as he began to access the exterior CCTV. “But this way we get to watch her without worrying about getting caught. Did you see the way she lit out of here when she thought they were off having a…”
“Don’t say it,” Dean warned him. “You say it, and I’ll have no choice but to shoot you.”
Sam stood with his jaw clamped shut, and a knowing grin on his face. Dean stared threateningly at him for several seconds before returning his attention to the computer monitor. A moment later, Sam spoke in a low mutter that was nevertheless heard all-too-clearly by his older brother.
“Shag.”
He barely ducked in time to avoid the alien rock paperweight that came hurtling across the room towards his head.
Gwen emerged out onto the Plass, looking around anxiously for some sign of her Captain and the bloody tea boy. She was hurt that Jack hadn’t bothered to tell her that he wanted to go for a walk. She would have been more than happy to go with him, had he just asked. Then, he wouldn’t have needed to resort to turning to Ianto for company.
She felt a sneer twisting her lips at the thought of Ianto, and found herself torn between disgust and pity. He was a sad little boy who had no clue about the real world, unlike herself who had real life experience. Jack did him no favours by sheltering him the way that he did. Indeed, if she’d had her way, Ianto would have been retconned well and truly after that cyber-girlfriend incident. He’d had a lucky escape there, without a doubt – playing on Jack’s emotions the way he had.
Of course, her desire to see Ianto gone from Torchwood had nothing at all to do with an inherent need to eliminate the competition with Jack. Ianto was no threat to her. Any time that Jack spent with him was only out of pity for a sad little boy with no hope for a life of his own.
Even so, that was no reason for her to give him a free hand where Jack was concerned. No, sometimes it was just necessary for her to step in, and remind Jack that she was there, and he needed to pay her the attention she rightly deserved as his second-in-command and – dare she suggest – his one true soul mate.
Oh, she loved Rhys. There was no doubting that, but what she shared with Jack was so much more than anything she and Rhys could ever hope to share. In reality, Rhys was just a stop-gap until Jack came fully to his senses and realised they were meant to be with each other. Then she could ditch Rhys, Jack could ditch the pathetic tea boy, and they’d finally be happy.
There was no sign of them. She frowned darkly, coming to the reluctant realisation that her beloved Captain was not actually anywhere nearby. Why, then, had Sam said he was up here? Frowning, she turned and stalked back into the Hub.
“Not a vamp, then,” Dean remarked, sounding surprisingly disappointed. Sam shook his head.
“Nope. Not a vamp. So... what else have we got?”
A grin literally spread across Dean’s face.
“Didya bring the holy water with you...?”
Jack and Ianto walked into the Hub after an unsuccessful but nevertheless exhilarating hunt to indignant shrieks from their co-worker. They ventured forward slowly, only to find themselves struggling not to laugh at the sight of Gwen sitting in the pool at the base of the water tower, soaked and shivering.
“What happened here?” Ianto asked, although he half suspected he already knew. Dean and Sam both sported identical looks of angelic innocence – a look that strangely came off better with Dean than it did with Sam. Gwen, however, was not going to stay silent.
“One of them pushed me in!” she shrieked. “I was just walking past, and the next thing I know I’m sitting here, all wet! Jack, don’t just stand there! Do something!”
He stared at her for so long that none of them quite knew what to expect. Finally, he spoke.
“Go and dry yourself off. You still have those reports on weevil migrations to do.”
He then turned on his heel and headed for his office without another word. Furious, Gwen hauled herself up out of the water and stormed off towards the shower room with as much dignity as she could muster. It wasn’t very much.
Ianto watched her go with ill-concealed amusement before looking back quizzically at the Winchester boys for an explanation. Dean smiled apologetically.
“So, she’s not possessed, either.”
“And you came to that conclusion by pushing her into the pool? Not that I’m complaining, of course...”
“Well, we were gonna just flick some holy water over her,” Dean explained, “but then we figured the only way to be absolutely sure was full immersion. So, we emptied the holy water we brought into the pool, and the first chance we got...”
Ianto had to cover his mouth to stop himself from laughing as he walked quickly away. He was enjoying this far too much for his own good. Dean watched him go with a grin before looking back to his little brother.
“So, we’ve covered vampire and demonic possession. What’s next?”
Gwen liked salt. She really did. It was great as an additive to Rhys’ meals, most of which tasted like cardboard to her without it. It was also very useful for practical jokes, like sprinkling into Ianto’s coffee when he wasn’t looking, and letting the poor child think Jack had done it.
What she didn’t like, not one bit, was being knocked clean off her feet by Dean Winchester’s sawed-off shotgun, which apparently was packed full of rock salt. Not only did it thoroughly ruin her carefully prepared hair and makeup, and spoil the clothes that she had specifically chosen for the purpose of seducing Jack, it also bloody hurt. A lot.
She lay on the floor of the Hub, just near the door that led up from the holding cells, barely able to breathe. She was also acutely aware of the amusement of her colleagues, who were doing absolutely nothing to help her.
“Sorry about that,” Dean remarked, sounding anything but sorry. “Thought one of those weevil things had escaped. Lightning reflexes, you know?”
“Not to worry,” Ianto assured him in such a smug tone that Gwen would have gotten up and smacked him, had she had the strength. “No harm done.”
“Rock salt?” Jack queried.
“We use it to slow down ghosts, demons… That sort of thing.”
Someone snickered, and if she didn’t know any better, she would have thought it was Jack. That couldn’t be, though. He wouldn’t laugh at her, unless he was just trying to make Ianto feel better about himself. The thought vanished as Jack pulled her to her feet. Her heart raced at the contact. Surely this was the perfect opportunity for him to take her in his arms, even if it was under the guise of comfort…
She blinked in confusion as he propelled her past him, towards the shower room for the second time that day.
“Go clean yourself up, Gwen. And next time, try not to startle the newbies.”
“What…? Jack, he shot me!!! With bloody rock salt!”
Jack nodded, his expression utterly serious.
“And you should consider yourself very lucky that that’s all it was. Now, go. You have that liaison meeting with Kathy Swanson this afternoon, remember?”
She faltered, her eyes widening deliberately and going watery.
“You’re coming with me, aren’t you, Jack?”
Jack visibly winced under the power of her pout.
“Uh… Yeah… Sure. Just go get cleaned up, okay?”
Suddenly perky again, she turned and practically skipped away. Once she was out of hearing range, Jack looked helplessly at Dean and Sam.
“See what I mean?”
“Yeah,” Dean muttered ruefully. “She’s got her claws in deep, dude.”
“Maybe we’ve got it wrong,” Sam mused. “Maybe it’s worse than her just being a plain vamp, or demon. Maybe she’s a combination?”
“Oh god, I don’t want to know,” Ianto muttered.
“I do,” Jack insisted. “The sooner we know, the sooner we can work out how to get rid of her. I don’t want to kill her, only to find out I’ve fucked up royally. She’s dangerous enough now. I don’t want to risk her doing anything to Ianto because I made a mistake with the way I deal with her.”
“Chill out, El Capitan,” Dean told him. “We’ll figure it out. One way or another.”
“Well, I’m not in any particular hurry,” Ianto commented as Jack stalked away. “Just between us, I’m rather enjoying this.”
Sam smirked, and inclined his head towards Dean.
“So’s he.”
By the end of the day, Gwen was starting to have niggling doubts about the legitimacy of Jack’s so-called new recruits. It wasn’t the unexpected swimming lesson in the Hub pool. It wasn’t getting shot with rock salt. It wasn’t even finishing up her reports (or rather, half-finishing them and hoping Ianto could be conned into doing the rest) to discover someone had drawn a huge chalk pentagram around her workspace.
What really tipped her suspicions was when she finally decided to Google Dean and Sam Winchester, and discovered they were quite infamous in the shady world of ghost and demon hunting. She supposed she could see a tenuous connection between demon hunting and alien catching – really, how much different could it really be? – but her well-honed instincts were starting to tell her that they hadn’t come to Cardiff for a job opportunity.
Pouting, even though Jack wasn’t within sight to be influenced – she looked around for the source of her suspicions, but they were nowhere in sight. Come to think of it, neither were Jack or Ianto.
Panic bit hard and deep. She’d been so engrossed in looking for something to discredit the newbies with, that she hadn’t noticed everyone leave. Frantically, she fiddled with her computer until she accidentally managed to activate the Hub’s CCTV program. She found Jack quickly enough, but her relief was short-lived. He was down in the holding cell with Ianto, and they were currently snogging each other senseless!
Horrified, Gwen almost fell out of her chair in her haste to get down there and intervene. Not for herself, of course, but to stop Jack from so cruelly leading Ianto on, and letting him think he had even a ghost of a chance with the dashing Captain…
She ran into the holding cell area, and into the special isolation cell where she’d seen them… only to discover it empty. She stood there in confusion, only to shriek as the door slammed shut behind her, locking her in. Wheeling around, she hammered on the door.
“Let me out! Open this door, right now! Ianto? Are you there? Jack! Someone! Let me out!”
On the other side of the door, Dean exchanged a smirk with his brother before speaking.
“Gwen? That you? How’d you get yourself locked in there?”
“I thought I saw… Never mind, just get me out of here!”
“Sure… Uh… There are an awful lot of buttons here. Which ones should I press?”
Gwen let her breath out in a steadying rush. She was almost positive this had been someone’s (ie, Ianto’s) idea of a sick joke, and she was going to have someone’s (ie, Ianto’s) arse for it when she got out.
“Just press the blue button. The green one will lock the cell down and release a fatal nerve gas. We use it to get rid of the really nasty aliens.”
“Oh, well, that’s good to know,” Dean agreed. “I definitely wouldn’t want to mix those two buttons up, would I? Oh, by the way, did I happen to mention that I’m colour blind?”
Gwen froze.
“You’re… sorry?”
Dean hit the button. Immediately, there was a loud bang as the cell locked down, followed seconds later by the sharp hiss of gas filling the small area. The older Winchester brother gave Sam his best wide-eyed innocent look.
“Oops. Did I press the wrong button?”
Sam nodded gravely.
“And Jack and Ianto went out for coffee five minutes ago. Darn it. Whatever will we do?”
Inside the cell, Gwen opened her mouth to tell them to press the emergency stop button on the wall that, funnily enough, read ‘Emergency Stop’. She suffered a mouth and lungful of gas, though, and suddenly she could no longer speak. Her eyes watered and she gagged helplessly as her muscles all began to seize up. She dropped to the floor and lay there, twitching helplessly as she listened to their voices on the other side of the door, gushing a sympathy that, in her final moments, she began to strongly suspect was false.
“Don’t you worry about anything, Gwen. Jack’ll take good care of Rhys. He won’t remember a thing about you. In fact, I think they’ll probably just retcon themselves as well, so they don’t have to suffer the pain of mourning for you.”
Tears leaked from Gwen’s eyes, wasted on the cold, unforgiving cement floor. Jack would come for her, she was sure of it. Any second now, he’d come charging in and save her. Except, he wasn’t, and as blackness overtook her, she realised she was as pathetic and alone as she had always imagined Ianto to be…
“All clear?” Dean asked ten minutes later. Sam nodded.
“All clear. The gas is gone. Now, we just need to salt and burn the body. Last thing Jack and Ianto need is to be haunted by the harpy.”
“Except, she’s not really,” Dean admitted, with just the slightest hint of regret. Sam raised an eyebrow as he opened the heavy door to reveal Gwen’s still, grey-skinned form.
“Does it matter?”
Dean couldn’t help but grin.
“Nah. That was a neat trick, by the way, routing old CCTV footage of Jack and Ianto through her computer to lure her down here.”
Sam snorted.
“After she couldn’t resist chasing after them this morning when I said they’d gone for coffee and a walk, I figured it wouldn’t take much more than that to get her down here. Silly cow didn’t even bother checking the date on the footage. If she had, she would have known it was a year and a half old. Now, c’mon! We get this done before Jack and Ianto get back, and we can be home by nightfall.”
Enthused, Dean helped his brother carry Gwen’s body to the furnace room for salting and burning.
Jack and Ianto returned to the Hub to find it encased by a blissful silence. The two men exchanged puzzled but hopeful looks as they approached the Winchester boys.
“So…” Ianto said tentatively. “Either Gwen has gone home for the night, or…”
The smug grins that met them sent their hearts and hopes soaring.
“You did it!” Jack crowed, and dove forward to engulf Dean in a huge hug.
“Whoa, dude! Respect the personal space!” Dean burst out, extracting himself as quickly as he could from Jack’s arms. “And yeah, of course we did it. Turned out to be easier than we thought it was going to be.”
“So tell us all,” Jack encouraged them as Ianto hurried to Jack’s office to get the whisky.
“Well, we came to the conclusion that she was definitely a harpy,” Sam explained. “Not full blood, of course, but enough to be real trouble to whoever she fixates on.”
“Which would be Jack,” Ianto concluded as he poured drinks for all. Dean nodded.
“Got it in one. Luckily, it’s pretty easy to get rid of a harpy, so long as it doesn’t get wind of your intentions. And since this particular one was kinda stupid, it made it even easier.”
“So all we did was lure her into your isolation cell, and then we gassed her. She even told us which button to push! So once the gas was cleared, we took the body to the furnace, salted it and burned it. Your problem is solved, fellas.”
Silence reigned, and Jack and Ianto exchanged awkward looks.
“What?” Sam asked, frowning a little. “What’s wrong?”
“Exactly what did she tell you about the gas that we use in the isolation cell?” Ianto asked quietly.
“That it was a fatal nerve gas,” Sam answered. “Why?”
Jack smiled ruefully.
“We told Gwen that after she got herself locked in there. We figured that if she thought it might kill her, then she’d be a bit more careful.”
“So… What are you saying?” Dean pressed. “That it wasn’t nerve gas?”
“Oh, it was nerve gas,” Jack confirmed. “But not the fatal kind. It’s designed to induce temporary paralysis, that’s all.”
Dean and Sam sat frozen, their mouths open in identical looks of horror.
“You mean…” Sam stammered, “she was still alive when…?”
“Afraid so,” Jack said. “Look, if it bothers you, there’s always retcon. I don’t want either of you feeling guilty for what basically amounts to performing a public service.”
Dean shook his head, and held up his hands defensively.
“No, I’ll keep my memories, thanks. And like you said, it was a public service. We watched her for one day, and that was more than enough time to convince me she needed to be dealt with. I just hope you’re more careful in future with who you hire, El Capitan.”
Jack offered them a trademark leer that had Dean well and truly cringing.
“You mean you don’t want to stay? Three might be a crowd, but four’s definitely a party…”
Dean stared at him, unimpressed, while neither Ianto nor Sam even bothered to try and hide their laughter.
“Dude. Don’t make me get out the rock salt again.”
fin
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
That was class, it really was. Rock salt, a dip in the hub pool and a pentagram around her desk!
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
“Wishful thinking,” Ianto muttered. “If only it was as simple as shoving her out into the sunlight…”
I think I damaged a rib laughing :D
I Loved this :)
From:
no subject
Love the last line!
From:
no subject
As the Ninth Doctor would say, 'fantastic!'
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
Um could we have thrown Ruby in there too *grin*
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
From:
re: harpy
You are so cruel and I bloody luv ya right now!