m_findlow

Title: Trading places
Fandom: Torchwood
Prompt: Blackmail at hc_bingo
Wordcount: 13,803 words
Rating: M
Warnings: N/A
Summary: Ianto will have to team up with an unlikely ally to save Jack

John was unceremoniously dropped to the floor when the door was opened, and he was shoved inside. He struggled onto his side with his hands still bound behind him, before a voice indicated he wasn't alone.

'What have you done?'

He looked across at the direction of the familiar timbre. There was Jack, sat propped up against the far wall, hands cuffed in front of him, and resting them on bent knees. His head was tipped sideways so that he looked upright from John's perspective lying on the floor.

'Hello Jack. Did you miss me?' John asked as he struggled up off the floor.

'Can't say that I have.' Jack tipped his head back up. 'I'm guessing whatever deal you were trying to broker went south?'

'I had it under control.'

'So I see. And this is all part of that plan?' he asked, gesturing to the tied hands, and the room around them.

'More or less.'

Jack raised a knowing eyebrow at him. 'Less, I gather.'

Jack made a point of stretching out his cramping arms and legs.

'So you gonna tell me what's going on? One minute I'm tracking down reports of a family of Felthosians taking refuge near a recycling plant in Splott, next thing I'm tied up here, and we're playing a game of twenty questions. They look Pretalsian to me.'

'They are,' John confirmed.

'And you've pissed them off? Not a good idea. Didn't the Time Agency teach you anything?'

John rolled his eyes. If there was anything he hated more, it was Jack giving him a lecture. He and Jack had collectively gotten into more scrapes and bad situations than anyone he'd ever worked with. Who was he to tell John to be more careful about who he crossed?

'They got what they wanted. Soon as they're finished squeezing Eye Candy for information, they'll get bored and let him go.'

Jack paled.

'What? Ianto's here? Oh god. Why didn't you say so?' Jack was immediately on his feet, and making for the door. He banged on it loudly but there was no response.

'He was helping me out. There was no coercion. Well, not much anyway.'

'Dragged into your mess, more like. And now they think he's involved? You know what they're capable of! If anything happens to him, so help me, John.' Jack's gaze was ferocious and unforgiving. It annoyed John that he was actually angry with him.

'What about us? What about me? Don't you care what happens to me?' He said it in a way that implied more.

'If you double crossed some Pretalsians, that's your problem. Ianto and I have nothing to do with it. And there is no us.'

'Oh, but there's you and him, right?'

'Yes,' Jack snapped back fiercely.

'What happened Jack? You and me, we were such a great team. Why do you continue to waste you time here?'

'Things change.'

'You'd rather spend your life with some boring mortal earthling, when you could be out exploring the universe with me? Well, when I say your life, I really mean his. Since you can't die.'

'I'd spend a hundred lifetimes with him if I could.'

John saw it there in his eyes that he meant what he'd said. Some little part of him despaired that Jack had moved on. He'd expected Jack to be happy to see him, that he might take off on a few adventures with him, if anything, when this was all over. Not to be snubbed for the piece of meat in a pinstripe suit. He was pretty enough, but John couldn't ever see himself wanting to spend time with him long term.

'This isn't just a temporary thing? You actually want to stay here? With him?'

'Yes.' Jack repeated.

'Well, that's me told,' John replied sarcastically. He didn't want to let it show that Jack's response actually hurt his feelings.

When no one reacted to Jack's incessant banging on the door, he slipped back away to the corner and sat himself down. Worry was etched into his face, and the longer they waited for Ianto to return, the more anxious he became.

One of the Pretalsians had done some research when Jack had blithely admitted he was Torchwood, and that they were making a mistake messing with him. He hadn't considered the ramifications at the time because he'd thought they were only after him. Then when he'd found out he was here on account of John, he'd become even more obnoxious.

He refused to tell them more, or to give them access to anything, and they'd put him on the back burner, thinking he was the only one connected to Torchwood. But now they had Ianto. They'd put two and two together somehow. If they'd thought they could use Jack as leverage to get the device, then they could use him as leverage for more than that now.

They pair of them sat together in silence for longer than either of them had done so before in the entire time they had known each other.

He hadn't meant to fall to the ground, but it was hard to keep a balance when you couldn't reach out a hand to steady yourself. The landing was awkward, and the jabbing sensation in his chest painful. Then he realised why. It was the laser device pressed against his chest. He'd forgotten it was still there in his breast pocket. His worry that someone at MoD might inadvertently get a whole lot of people hurt, toying with the device, had cinched the decision for him, and he'd swiftly pocketed it before leaving the office.

When the guards had searched them and taken their guns, they must have missed it. Easy to do, given how flat it was, he realised.

Suddenly the idea of it being terribly dangerous, might sway in his favour in their current situation.

He had no idea what kind of timer setting was on it. It would depend entirely on the last person who touched it. It could be thirty seconds, or it could be thirty minutes. He decided it didn't matter. If he could just get to it and activate the timer, it might cause a bit of chaos. Enough to buy him time to escape, or to do something else completely crazy. Right now he'd take any opportunity that presented itself.

But how to get it out of his pocket and within reach of his tied hands? And preferably before James had beaten him to a pulp.

'I'll ask you again,' said the Fat Controller, interrupting his thoughts, as James hauled him back to his feet, 'where is Torchwood?'

He didn't answer the question. Partly because he had no intention of doing so, and partly because he needed more time to think through his plan.

'Still no? Not very smart.' He nodded to James again to add a little more persuasion. This time though Ianto twisted away first, forcing James to grab his jacket and pulling him back into line. As he tugged back the lapel, the force snapped off the button, leaving his jacket open.

The punch he received for his trouble was hard. It took a few seconds to register the pain of it whilst he was tumbling across the floor, head swimming, and crashing into a pile of rubbish and disused cleaning supplies in the far corner. He landed face down, so he saw the silvery disc slip from his pocket and skitter across the floor with him. Oh, if their were Torchwood gods, he would worship them for this small fragment of incredible luck.

He managed to roll onto his side and sit up slightly before the two men came after him again. Behind him he could feel the disc, and scurried them both back into the corner where it wouldn't be seen, appearing to be cowering there. His hands, bound as they were, reached behind him to gain purchase on it.

'Please,' Ianto begged, 'no more. I'll tell you whatever you want.'

Fat Controller seemed to be enjoying himself.

He nodded to James again, his grey pallored face now undercut with tinges of red from the effort he was expending. He clearly enjoyed his line of work. Somewhere else in the room, Ianto remembered Gordon and Percy were there, watching.

The kick to his side was powerful and sent him keeling back to the floor, unable to breathe. The device clattered out of his grip from the force of the impact. He coughed hard, tying to get air back into his lungs whilst desperately grappling behind him. If he didn't get hold of it now, he might miss his only chance. He fingers brushed the cold metal, and he grasped it once more.

'Yes, I think you might. But I've decided it's time to play another little game now.'

Ianto tried to keep focus as his fingers wrapped around the disc, searching for the buttons to activate it. Fortunately the disc was very tactile in nature, allowing him to feel his way around it. Jack had once shown him how they work, if only for the reason that he should know so he didn't accidentally kill himself putting it in the secure archives. He had a working knowledge of so many things he really shouldn't, but he was grateful that Jack put his safety first.

'I've decided that it will be more fun to get answers from your lover. I think maybe he will tell me what I want to know. Your continued wellbeing should be persuasion enough.'

Ianto froze at the suggestion, his fingers forgetting what they were doing. He wasn't worried about his wellbeing. He was worried about them using him to get to Jack.

'No, please,' he begged again, this time meaning it.

'Why don't I give you a little while to think about it? I'm not unreasonable. I also have to deal with your other friend Mr Hart. I'd rather have him out of the way first. Then we can get on with our business.'

Ianto's fingers grew desperate as he pressed the buttons on the disc. He finally hit the sequence to activate it, tucking it under the pile of rubbish, just as they were dragging him up off the ground again.

He prayed the timer was more than thirty seconds, and that he hadn't just condemned himself to death.

Chapter eight...