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Fandomweekly Challenge 184 - Sins of the past
Title: Sins of the past
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack
Author: m_findlow
Rating: M (language)
Length: 1,000 words
Content notes: None
Author notes: Written for Challenge 184 - Murder at![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomweekly
Summary: Jack is trying to make right a wrong that Torchwood created.
Jack felt strange walking into the police department. Usually he only came to raid their evidence lockers, relieving them of alien objects. Occasionally he visited to extract an arrestee from police custody, transferring them to more appropriate accommodations before getting down to brass tacks. Today though he came armed with a bundle of CDs, set in plain crystal cases and held together with a rubber band. The only identifying mark on them were a few words penned in his cursive script, specifying date, time and location.
This wasn’t a betrayal, he told himself as he wandered to the front counter, asking for Detective Inspector Steele.
He stood in the lobby for quarter of an hour, waiting for the DI to arrive. When finally someone did appear, the constable at the counter called across to the battleaxe looking woman who marched through the internal security doors. ‘Inspector Steele. Captain Harkness is here.’
‘Jesus Christ,’ came the Glaswegian reply, mixed with a heavy dose of chain-smoker. ‘Can’t ye see I’m on a break?’ already pulling a crumpled packet of cigarettes from the pocket of her trouser suit. ‘Tell him to park his boat and feckin’ wait.’ Clearly she hadn’t clocked Jack standing there.
He gave her the benefit of a five minute break. When she didn't reappear, took it upon himself to go find her. She’d only made it ten feet around the corner, sucking down on the filter like her life depended on it, whilst kicking the tyre of a fancy car that clearly wasn't hers.
‘Detective Steele,’ Jack greeted, observing that she was every bit her namesake.
‘Who’re you?’
‘Captain Jack Harkness.’
‘Well, feck me,’ she said, dropping the end of her well-smoked butt and stepping it into the ground. ‘I was expecting some pompous military prick.’ She looked him up and down. ‘You're almost worth going straight for.’
‘I can be flexible,’ Jack said, trying to find common ground, even if it was only in the trading of barbs.
‘Sorry, sunshine. I’m only for the ladies.’
‘Pity.’ He grabbed the fresh cigarette from her hand before she lit it.
‘Oi! What do you think you’re doing?’
‘I've got places to be and I'd really like to get this meeting over and done with.’
‘Oh, don't get yer knickers in a knot. I was only going te make ye wait another ten minutes. I want to close this serial killer case and get the DCI off my back as much as the next detective. So…’ she said, leaning against the car. ‘What’ve you got for me?’
Jack handed over the stack of CDs. ‘CCTV footage from the areas for each of your murder victim locations showing you clear images of the perpetrator.’
Steele gave him a cold, unbelieving look. ‘Bollocks. There was no CCTV.’
‘Only because it was erased by my team.’
She narrowed her eyes. ‘Your team?’
‘Torchwood.’ It had been a wrench to retrieve the files, but Tosh had eventually backtracked Suzie’s computer logs and found the images that she’d carefully erased or corrupted, restoring them and proving without a shadow of a doubt that she really had murdered all those people.
‘I dinnae come down in the last lorry of IrnBru. Feckin’ Torchwood. Oh, aye, I've heard of you. What’s all this to you then, eh?’
‘Her name is Suzie Costello. She’s…’ He stopped, pausing to correct himself ‘…was one of my people.’
Steele didn’t miss the inference. ‘Was?’
‘Deceased,’ Jack said, trying to keep emotions from his voice. ‘Committed suicide three weeks ago.’
‘You do realise you've completely rat-arsed the chain of custody on all of this, don't you? I cannae use any of this to prove shite.’
‘She's dead. It'll never have to go to court.’
‘So, I'm supposed to tell the victims’ families that we know who did it, and that's that? They can all move on with their lives?’
‘Yes.’ Wasn't that the point that Gwen had been trying to make? Wasn't that what the police wanted? He hadn't believed it himself but she'd convinced him and now he was being told that none of it mattered. Just the idea that the police didn't care made him want to do more. ‘They deserve to know what happened and why.’
‘Aye, except you've missed one pretty bloody important bit. Why did she kill them?’
Jack chewed the inside of his lip. He could hardly tell the truth – that she'd discovered an alien glove capable of resurrecting the dead for a brief period of time. Who knew if it was ever capable of more. That was the research Suzie had been doing at his insistence and on Torchwood's dime, no less. She'd insisted on recently deceased subjects; that the glove operated better the closer to living they'd been.
He should have restricted her to lab rats like he did with Owen’s experiments. She'd obsessed with trawling police radio chatter for recently deceased victims. She'd been choosy. It wasn't enough to simply hang around old folks' homes waiting for one to drop off the perch. She'd wanted violent, sudden death. Wanted to know what those victims had experienced. Cemeteries were out of bounds on Jack's orders. The dead and buried needed to stay that way. He'd done the zombie apocalypse before and he wasn't ready for a repeat.
‘She was exposed to something that altered her perceptions of right and wrong.’ It wasn't an outright lie. He didn't think Suzie was capable of being a serial killer; not without intervention. She'd been his right hand girl for years and he relied on her probably more than he should have, but she was no murderer.
‘It won't happen again. You have my word.’ He’d watch his team more carefully from now on. There simply couldn't be a repeat.
DI Steele nodded and tucked the CDs under her arm. ‘You're too feckin’ right it won't happen again. If it does I'll come down on you so hard your cock will be pointing the other way out your arse.’
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack
Author: m_findlow
Rating: M (language)
Length: 1,000 words
Content notes: None
Author notes: Written for Challenge 184 - Murder at
fandomweeklySummary: Jack is trying to make right a wrong that Torchwood created.
Jack felt strange walking into the police department. Usually he only came to raid their evidence lockers, relieving them of alien objects. Occasionally he visited to extract an arrestee from police custody, transferring them to more appropriate accommodations before getting down to brass tacks. Today though he came armed with a bundle of CDs, set in plain crystal cases and held together with a rubber band. The only identifying mark on them were a few words penned in his cursive script, specifying date, time and location.
This wasn’t a betrayal, he told himself as he wandered to the front counter, asking for Detective Inspector Steele.
He stood in the lobby for quarter of an hour, waiting for the DI to arrive. When finally someone did appear, the constable at the counter called across to the battleaxe looking woman who marched through the internal security doors. ‘Inspector Steele. Captain Harkness is here.’
‘Jesus Christ,’ came the Glaswegian reply, mixed with a heavy dose of chain-smoker. ‘Can’t ye see I’m on a break?’ already pulling a crumpled packet of cigarettes from the pocket of her trouser suit. ‘Tell him to park his boat and feckin’ wait.’ Clearly she hadn’t clocked Jack standing there.
He gave her the benefit of a five minute break. When she didn't reappear, took it upon himself to go find her. She’d only made it ten feet around the corner, sucking down on the filter like her life depended on it, whilst kicking the tyre of a fancy car that clearly wasn't hers.
‘Detective Steele,’ Jack greeted, observing that she was every bit her namesake.
‘Who’re you?’
‘Captain Jack Harkness.’
‘Well, feck me,’ she said, dropping the end of her well-smoked butt and stepping it into the ground. ‘I was expecting some pompous military prick.’ She looked him up and down. ‘You're almost worth going straight for.’
‘I can be flexible,’ Jack said, trying to find common ground, even if it was only in the trading of barbs.
‘Sorry, sunshine. I’m only for the ladies.’
‘Pity.’ He grabbed the fresh cigarette from her hand before she lit it.
‘Oi! What do you think you’re doing?’
‘I've got places to be and I'd really like to get this meeting over and done with.’
‘Oh, don't get yer knickers in a knot. I was only going te make ye wait another ten minutes. I want to close this serial killer case and get the DCI off my back as much as the next detective. So…’ she said, leaning against the car. ‘What’ve you got for me?’
Jack handed over the stack of CDs. ‘CCTV footage from the areas for each of your murder victim locations showing you clear images of the perpetrator.’
Steele gave him a cold, unbelieving look. ‘Bollocks. There was no CCTV.’
‘Only because it was erased by my team.’
She narrowed her eyes. ‘Your team?’
‘Torchwood.’ It had been a wrench to retrieve the files, but Tosh had eventually backtracked Suzie’s computer logs and found the images that she’d carefully erased or corrupted, restoring them and proving without a shadow of a doubt that she really had murdered all those people.
‘I dinnae come down in the last lorry of IrnBru. Feckin’ Torchwood. Oh, aye, I've heard of you. What’s all this to you then, eh?’
‘Her name is Suzie Costello. She’s…’ He stopped, pausing to correct himself ‘…was one of my people.’
Steele didn’t miss the inference. ‘Was?’
‘Deceased,’ Jack said, trying to keep emotions from his voice. ‘Committed suicide three weeks ago.’
‘You do realise you've completely rat-arsed the chain of custody on all of this, don't you? I cannae use any of this to prove shite.’
‘She's dead. It'll never have to go to court.’
‘So, I'm supposed to tell the victims’ families that we know who did it, and that's that? They can all move on with their lives?’
‘Yes.’ Wasn't that the point that Gwen had been trying to make? Wasn't that what the police wanted? He hadn't believed it himself but she'd convinced him and now he was being told that none of it mattered. Just the idea that the police didn't care made him want to do more. ‘They deserve to know what happened and why.’
‘Aye, except you've missed one pretty bloody important bit. Why did she kill them?’
Jack chewed the inside of his lip. He could hardly tell the truth – that she'd discovered an alien glove capable of resurrecting the dead for a brief period of time. Who knew if it was ever capable of more. That was the research Suzie had been doing at his insistence and on Torchwood's dime, no less. She'd insisted on recently deceased subjects; that the glove operated better the closer to living they'd been.
He should have restricted her to lab rats like he did with Owen’s experiments. She'd obsessed with trawling police radio chatter for recently deceased victims. She'd been choosy. It wasn't enough to simply hang around old folks' homes waiting for one to drop off the perch. She'd wanted violent, sudden death. Wanted to know what those victims had experienced. Cemeteries were out of bounds on Jack's orders. The dead and buried needed to stay that way. He'd done the zombie apocalypse before and he wasn't ready for a repeat.
‘She was exposed to something that altered her perceptions of right and wrong.’ It wasn't an outright lie. He didn't think Suzie was capable of being a serial killer; not without intervention. She'd been his right hand girl for years and he relied on her probably more than he should have, but she was no murderer.
‘It won't happen again. You have my word.’ He’d watch his team more carefully from now on. There simply couldn't be a repeat.
DI Steele nodded and tucked the CDs under her arm. ‘You're too feckin’ right it won't happen again. If it does I'll come down on you so hard your cock will be pointing the other way out your arse.’