m_findlow

Title: Going the extra mile
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack, Ianto
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 1,310 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for lexigent's prompt "any, any, pretending to be drunk/high" at fic_promptly
Summary: Jack’s prepared to employ some unique methods to get the job done

Jack and Ianto were in hot pursuit of a man who had come into possession of a dangerous alien device. No one quite knew what it was capable of yet, but it was best not to wait and find out. They’d traipsed all the way down to Carmarthen to find him after he’d evaded them in Cardiff. Now he was on the run, but Torchwood were catching up. The high speed car chase through local streets however had caught the eye of the local constabulary who were now also on the tail of the man’s car. Jack and Ianto dropped back in their far more conspicuous SUV and carefully followed the police, who had managed to cut off their quarry and arrest him.

The man looked straight at Jack just as the police were approaching him to cuff him. He grinned in a sinister way before bringing his hand up to his mouth, shoving the small device inside and swallowing it whole. Moments later his hands were pulled roughly behind his back and he was towed away to their squad car. All in all, he looked quite pleased to have been arrested, and therefore out of the reach of the Torchwood operatives.

It was frustrating to say the least. Had this happened in Cardiff, they would have stormed in and flashed their credentials, and the man would have been sharing after dinner conversation with Janet. As it was, they were well out of their jurisdiction, and left to come up with alternatives.

They parked up nearby the station and got out of the car, assessing their options. Jack was the first to speak.

‘You're going to have to go in there and get it.’

‘And how am I supposed to do that, exactly?’

‘Just pretend to be drunk, or high, or something. Get yourself arrested.’

‘Why me?’

‘Why not?’ Ianto could think of a hundred reasons why not, but kept them to himself.

‘Well, I'm not the one who looks like he just came from a fancy dress party.’

‘Hey! I thought you liked this look?’

Ianto rolled his eyes. ‘That's hardly the point.’

‘C'mon, it's not that hard. Here, give me your best stumbling walk.’

Ianto gave him his worst possible impersonation of a drunk. It didn't occur to Jack that he'd purposely done a bad job of it to get out it.

Jack sighed loudly, ‘Fine. I'll go. You used to be better at role play.’

Ianto put a hand up and stopped Jack.

‘Give me your gun first. Drunk and disorderly is one thing, but if you do manage to get arrested, I don't want to have to put up bail for you being charged for carrying a concealed firearm.’

Ianto watched from a distance as Jack strode across the road and put on his performance, clearly pulling on years of genuine experience as he found an empty bottle in the gutter and tossed it at the police station’s stone façade, smashing it loudly and spectacularly.

Well, that’ll certainly get their attention, though Ianto. Drunk and disorderly, disturbing the peace, intentional damage to public property. He was sure there was another charge in there somewhere.

He was too far away to hear most of Jack’s rantings as two constables came outside to restrain him, although from what he could hear he seemed to be having a concerted swipe at the government by all accounts, and something about VAT. Lord only knew what had possessed him, and it might have even been funny in different circumstances.

Predictably and reliably, he was duly tackled to the ground, handcuffed and hustled into the station for processing. Ianto retreated to the car and waited.

An hour later, he felt his phone buzzing in his pocket.

‘Is this your one call?’ Ianto answered amusedly, knowing that it was Jack on the other end of the anonymous phone number.

‘Yep, but no time for phone sex Ianto. I caught up with our little friend. He seems to think we’re MI5.’

‘And you’re sure he swallowed it?’

‘He seems pretty confident. You’re not?’

‘I was driving, and trying not to get us arrested at the same time, if you recall. You’re the only one who claims to have seen him scoff the thing.’

‘Well, I had a bit of a tussle with him in the cells, and as fun as groping a complete stranger might sound, he’s not hidden it in his clothing. So it doesn’t look like we’re going anywhere until we can relieve it from our friend, which means waiting for him to relieve himself.’

‘Shall I bring you a fresh toothbrush and some gloves?’

‘Ha ha,’ Jack quipped.Being stuck in a prison cell was not Jack’s idea of fun. Not when he had to keep up the pretence of being under the influence, at least long enough that the police would not consider him sober enough to be turfed back out on the streets, inflicting himself on some other poor souls. It also didn’t help that he now had to share a cell with the one person who really didn’t want him there, and who for some unknown reason, was deriving pleasure from the fact that Jack was stuck here for the moment.

With no one to talk to and nowhere to go, the hours dragged on. Jack was starting to worry that the man was going to be released on summons before he could get a hold of him, or more to the point, the device he was digesting. If he got released, he’d quickly go to ground, and that would be the last they’d ever see of him.

Some hours later a police constable approached the cell door, and Jack suspected it was a worst case scenario.

‘Mr Hart, you’ve been released.’

Jack was slightly surprised at the news. Of course he hadn’t given his own name when he’d been arrested, ensuring his ID was conveniently missing, currently sharing a home with his Webley in the SUV’s glove box. The last thing he needed was local police running up a charge against his name, and the abusive phone call he’d get form the Home Office next week demanding to know what he was up to.

‘Really?’ Jack said.

‘Your attorney has put up assurance. He’s waiting outside to collect you.’

Jack tried to hide the perplexed look on his face. What was Ianto up to?

‘Try to behave yourself in future,’ muttered the jaded constable.

As Jack strolled out through the front doors of the police station, still adjusting the strap on his vortex manipulator which he had only just been handed back, he caught sight of Ianto, holding up a small plastic bag containing the alien artefact. Jack looked at him, stunned.

‘How did you get that?’

‘While you were amusing yourself playing hardened criminal, I took the liberty of doing a background check on our friend. Turns out he has quite the list of criminal offences, including several convictions for illegal gambling and shoplifting. It stood to reason that he might be rather adept at sleight of hand. He only made you think that he’d swallowed the device. In actual fact it was sitting with his other confiscated possessions the whole time. After that, it was simply a matter of reporting to the desk clerk that I was from UNIT, and that the accused was in possession of some highly radioactive material, at which point the police were more than happy to have it removed from their evidence locker.’

‘Nice work, Ianto.’

‘I aim to please,’ he replied.

‘You think we can play some more cops and robbers when we get home?’

‘Haven’t you had enough of being locked up today?’ Ianto asked.

‘I was thinking more handcuffs and bedposts, but if you wanted to interrogate me and give me a thorough search, I’m all yours.’