Torchwood: Fanfic: Unwanted attention

[m_findlow]

Title: Unwanted attention
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 1,247 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for badly_knitted's prompt "Any, any, Groupies swirling around him/her/them like satellites" at fic_promptly
Summary: Jack thought he'd enjoy being popular.

As they pulled up to the scene in the large black SUV, the team let out a sigh at the mass of people milling around.

'Looks like it's going to be one of those mass retcon days,' Owen said.

'And me without my lemonade stall,' Ianto quipped.

As they got out of the car, the crowd turned on them. They were interested in the large black hole that had suddenly appeared in the middle of the quiet residential street, but more in the man who had just gotten out of the car.

'Oh, boy,' Jack said, cringing as they came towards him. How the hell had things gotten to this point, he wondered. Social media had a lot to answer for in his opinion.

It had all started innocuously enough. It wasn't even his fault. The first time he'd been accosted in the street by someone, he'd just brushed it off. They wanted a selfie with him and, rather than question why, he'd simply said yes, smiling for the photo. Then it happened again a week later, and this time there were three of them. One was practically in tears, shaking like a leaf, which he found odd. Then when they asked him for an autograph, he started to wonder, but signing the back of the iPhone anyway.

'Do you think it's weird if strangers just suddenly want a photo with you in the middle of the street?' he asked Ianto one night, as they sat in a curry house enjoying dinner. It had only occurred to him to ask on account of the strange looks he was getting from a table not far away, as if he was being watched and talked about.

'Not really,' Ianto replied, tearing his naan and dipping it into the sauce. 'I suppose you just have to expect it when you look like you do.'

Jack flushed at the compliment, but then pondered it a bit more as he spied the table across from him trying to sneak a photo on their phone, followed by hushed arguments, before one of them finally stood up and came over.

'Hi.'

'Hi,' Jack replied.

'We just wanted to say we're big fans.'

He didn't know what else to say to that, so he just said thanks.

'Hope you come and do a concert here sometime soon,' the girl replied before walking back to join her friends who were all in raptures at her bravery.

Jack leaned across the table. 'Concert? What the heck was all that about?'

'They're fans,' Ianto replied, as if that were obvious.

'Yeah, but why?'

Ianto set down his spoon and looked at Jack. 'You really don't know?'

'Not the foggiest.'

Oh dear, Ianto thought, pulling out his own phone and running a Wikipedia search, holding the phone out for Jack.

'Hey, that's me!'

'No, that's someone who looks a lot like you.'

Ever since that night, Jack realised that the people who'd been accosting him in the street were actually fans of some singer that could have been his doppelganger. What were the odds of that happening?

Over the next few months, they'd come to know his movements, some of the local fans having followed him around, tweeting their friends on social media as to his whereabouts and where he could be found for a photo opportunity. Now they would swarm him in groups, not satisfied until they all got what they wanted. This wasn't going to work, Jack decided, so when they cornered him he confessed that he wasn't who they thought he was, but rather just someone who happened to look a lot like him. He'd even tracked down the twitter feed of the real thing and shown them that whilst they were standing around here, the real deal was doing some chat show interview in Los Angeles.

They seemed disappointed at first, and the news got around pretty quickly that they had the wrong guy, though not everyone else was up with the program, and he still had the odd confused moment of being mistaken for someone else.

Then things got weird. Those same fans that had chased him across the city, thinking he was some celebrity, had started following him again. In all the spying they'd done, they'd sussed out that he worked for this infamous Torchwood everyone kept hearing about. That was even better than some celebrity. A real live alien hunting hero, and good looking to boot.

They started turning up at crime scenes, hovering around the bay and always on the lookout for the big black car that they'd seen him get about in. It didn't help that his rather distinctive wardrobe made him easy to spot when he was out and about, even if he wasn't on duty, but now they wanted photos with Captain Jack, the man that saved their city from aliens.

'I don't know how you managed it, Jack,' Ianto said to him one day, watching the CCTV feed from outside the tourist office where at least a dozen young ladies were camped out, 'but you've got yourself groupies.'

This newfound popularity perplexed him. He wasn't one to shy away from attention, but this was Torchwood business, and Torchwood was meant to be secret. He knew it was the worst kept secret of course, but having people turning up wherever he went was problematic. Not only did they interfere with what he was trying to do, but they were putting themselves in danger just by being anywhere near something alien. Worse was that they knew all of this and showed up anyway. Tosh had shown him blogs where they discussed scenes they found him at, discussing what they case might have been and avidly monitoring the team's progress. More horrifying were the discussions they were having around whether him and the guy in the suit were seeing each other, and what did that mean for their own chances at snagging the captain for themselves.

Case in point was today's rift alert, which had them all on the scene within minutes. Unfortunately the twittersphere had been just as busy, alerting Jack's fans to the incident so that they could meet him there. They were already armed with their phones and eager for pictures, details of the current case and anything else they could gather for their followers. Jack had asked Tosh to shut them down dozens of times, but they just kept popping back up somewhere else. There was no ringleader to be identified, just a bunch of obsessives and their secret underground network of messages and blogs.

'We love you, Jack!' one of them screamed as Owen tried to muscle his way past them, his heavy kit wielded in defence as he navigated a path. Eventually Gwen managed to get them far enough away to let them do their job, though the crowd didn't move the entire time they were there, watching on with keen interest.

'You really need to do something about this Jack,' Owen grumbled. 'I can't go anywhere without them thinking I'll lead them to you. Stalked in bloody Asda last week.'

'It's not my fault.' Fans had been nice at first, but this celebrity status was harder than it looked. He'd wanted to pen a firm letter to this Barrowman fellow, but what would be the point? They knew Jack wasn't him now and still they pursued him. It had been better when they just thought he was some singer. So much for being upfront and honest, thinking that would solve the problem!

Comments

[jo02]

Haha - I haven't read one of these types of stories in such a long time :)

[bk_forever]

*giggles* Poor Jack, maybe he shouldn't make himself look so distinctive and noticeable. I'm afraid he's stuck with his groupies although Torchwood's popularity had never been higher!