m_findlow

Title: Newsworthy
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 1,000 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for Bingo Card Prompt 9 - Obsession at fffc
Summary: Jack has a run in with a journalist who won't let him go.

Jack pulled up the SUV on the busy high street and stepped out. It looked like it was going to be one of those beautiful autumn days, with just the right amount of sunshine to take the edge off. He popped his collar up against the chill in the air and walked around the SUV, stepping up onto the footpath amidst the scattered crowds of ordinary Cardiff shoppers and smattering of tourists. As much as he enjoyed people taking notice of him, there were times when it was nice just to blend in with the crowd and have no one pay him any mind.

Today he was on duty and not here just for a bit of retail therapy, much as he might like to have nothing else to do. He could hardly go by a single shop without seeing something that would make a nice gift for someone on the team. Well paid as they might be, it never hurt to reward them.

There'd been a series of robberies around the city, targeting high end goods like jewelry, but strangely avoiding very expensive electrical goods and computer equipment. So far it hadn't been widely reported, since the police had little evidence and even lesser motive. All anybody knew was that there was nothing on their CCTV cameras, no forced entry, and not so much as a fingerprint or item out of place. Most victims hadn't even realised they'd been robbed until days later when they went to access their most secure items.

Jack had his own suspicions about who or what was doing the stealing, but he needed to ask a few more questions and have a good old fashioned poke around - aided by some of his own high end technology, of course. If he was right in his thinking, it was going to be devilishly hard to pinpoint where they might strike next, and even harder to catch them. It wasn't that they didn't like technology, but most of the stuff here on Earth was considered far too primitive to be of any interest. If they got a sniff of what was being kept at the hub however... Jack wasn't certain even their internal systems could prevent a break in.

Jack ducked out of the main street into one of the many arcades that ran between the city blocks, heading for a small bespoke jeweler that was on the list of victims from the police files.

‘Excuse me!’

Jack clocked the man behind him in the reflection of one of the shop windows and kept walking, assuming the voice behind him was addressing someone else.

‘I said, excuse me!’

This time he stopped, realising that there was no one else in front of him anymore and that the man was referring to him. Jack turned and frowned, immediately on his guard. People didn't normally just holler at him in the street. ‘Can I help you?’

‘You're Jack Harkness.’

Jack’s eyebrows knitted together as he took in the man properly. He was average height and build, with jet black hair that was beginning to look more silver the longer he stared at it. Guy was mid to late forties but otherwise unremarkable. ‘Depends who's asking.’

‘David Brigstocke,’ the man replied, holding out his hand for Jack to shake. ‘I'm with BBC Radio Wales.’

Jack reluctantly took the proffered hand, giving it a less than enthusiastic shake. ‘Are you the guy that does the groovy late night music program?’

‘Nothing so…’ He didn't finish the sentence, his feelings evidenced by the mere dismissal of the answer. ‘I'm a reporter.’

Ah. Jack knew there was a reason he'd gotten a bad vibe. Those old Time Agency gut instincts were as sharp as ever.

‘I wanted to ask you about this string of robberies,’ Brigstocke announced. ‘That is where you're off to, isn't it?’

Jack smiled congenially, stepping sideways towards the café just a few feet in front of him. They did a mean almond croissant and the coffee was pretty good too, not that he'd ever tell Ianto. ‘Actually I was just stopping off to pick up a brew. Americano, three sugars,’ he asked the girl behind the register.

‘A long way to come for coffee when there's three dozen cafes in the Mermaid Quay precinct.’

‘What can I say? I'm a loyalty card holder.’ Jack could tell from Brigstocke's expression that he didn't buy it for a second.

‘Actually, I had a couple of other questions for you as well.’ He didn't wait for Jack's permission. ‘Two months ago there was a spike in cold and flu cases across the metro area, but no other spikes anywhere in South Wales or more broadly in the UK.’

‘People should cover their mouths when they cough.’

‘Last week I had a source tell me about a weight loss clinic that was set to list on the FTSE and now they've gone under. She said their customers were so hungry they started eating their own flesh.’

‘Crash diets are a terrible idea.’

‘And…’ he paused, shuffling some papers in a file that had been under his arm, ‘what about the zombies? I saw people in A and E with injuries you wouldn't believe.’

‘A practical joke that went way too far. I wouldn't ever condone that,’ Jack replied.

Brigstocke snapped his file back shut, suddenly annoyed, shifting his eyes to the barrista before lowering his voice to a hiss. ‘I know you work for Torchwood. Special Ops. Whatever you want to call it, and I know, that you were involved in all of these incidents. You're hiding things from the people of this city and we have a right to know. I'm making it my business to uncover exactly what it is you do so that people can sleep easy at night.’ He stood a little straighter. ‘Do you have any comment?’

Jack leaned close to his ear. ‘If you want information on a series of robberies, you really should ask the police.’