Characters: Ianto Jones, Jack Harkness, Gwen Cooper, Owen Harper, Kathy Swanson; cameos by Eugene Jones, Mickey Smith, John Hart
Pairing(s): Ianto Jones/Jack Harkness; Jack Harkness/Gwen Cooper
Warning: M/M situations; minimal blood; language; some Gwen-bashing (but it's the character she is in this)
Spoilers: None for "Torchwood"; all for "Love at First Bite", if you've seen the movie
Disclaimer: I don't own either "Torchwood" or "Love at First Bite". "Torchwood" is property of the BBC and Russell T. Davies, and "Love at First Bite" is property of Orion Pictures and Melvin Simon Productions.
Beta: My lovely friend and brother, kanporinpoche .
Author's note: This was written for the reel_torchwood challenge Round 2. It's also my first time writing in a challenge like this, and I hope it doesn't stink too much.
Summary: Vampire Count Ianto Jones travels to America to find his soulmate, model Jack Harkness. Of course, things don't go quite according to his plan...
Jack couldn’t believe he’d invited the strange man back to his apartment.
It wasn’t something he usually did; if he did meet someone interesting at the club, he always insisted on going back to the other’s place. He enjoyed having his own space, somewhere he could go and no one would expect him to look perfect. Letting a stranger into his personal area was an act Jack normally just didn’t do.
But there was something about this guy…he couldn’t put his finger on it. He’d totally disregarded the so-called count at first, thinking he was simply some sort of weird sycophant in a fancy suit. However, in just the short time they talked Jack had noticed things, and they intrigued him. Maybe it was the accent; or perhaps it was the mesmerizing blue of his eyes; or maybe even the odd coolness of his touch. And that dance…God, Jack had never been turned on more as he’d been after that dance. He’d felt it in his partner too, and if that hardness had been anything to judge by, the man didn’t have anything to be ashamed of.
He just had to have a piece of that!
There was something else, though. Jack couldn’t put his finger on it, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. After all, chances were he wouldn’t see the man after tonight. Why try to read more into it than was needed?
It didn’t help that Jack actually wanted to see the count again…
He ushered Ianto in, taking his cape and hanging it up on the hall tree by the door. “Welcome to my place,” he said, feeling oddly nervous. “Is there something I can get you?”
His guest was looking around, and he didn’t hide the cringe as he took in the mess that was the model’s living room. “A broom, perhaps?”
“Sorry,” Jack bustled past, picking up a shirt and a couple of mismatched socks in a vain attempt to make things look a little tidier. “I hate housework. It killed my mother.” He gathered up another handful of laundry, saying, “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back.”
With those parting words, Jack headed into the bathroom, taking the dirty clothes with him. Once inside, he shut the door, dropping the laundry on the nearest empty bit of floor and headed toward the sink and splashed some water on his face. Get a grip, Harkness, he thought fiercely. It’s just another guy in for a one-night stand…just because you brought him home doesn’t mean anything…
Taking a deep breath, Jack stripped out of his clubbing outfit, reaching for the robe he kept on the back of the door. As he was changing, he thought he heard speaking from the living room, and caught the words “wake-up call” before deciding to ignore it in favor of making a decent impression. Before he left the room, he ran his fingers through his hair, then took a quick swig of mouthwash, spitting it out in the sink.
“Here I am,” he called out, before noticing that the room was empty. For a second Jack thought his mysterious Count had left, but then noticed the curtains from the balcony fluttering in the night breeze. “I’ll be right out, I’ve got something to put us in the mood. Don’t go anywhere!”
There was no sound, but for some reason Jack took that as a good sign. He ducked into his kitchen quickly, pulling open the refrigerator. As usual, there was nothing in it…except for his neighbor’s cat. “So that’s where you’ve been for the last two days! And here I thought you were lost…” He pulled the small tiger-striped kitten out of the fridge, rubbing his nose against the soft – yet cold – fur before setting the animal down. He’d have to tell Sarah Jane that he’d found the little devil in the morning.
But for now…Jack pulled out the bottle of champagne he’d been saving for a special occasion, grabbing a couple of glasses from the cupboard. He popped the cork and poured some of the cold bubbly into each, almost making a mess but managing to keep things from overflowing by sipping the excess. He then vowed never to drink champagne again after using mouthwash. Ew…
It was a bit chilly outside for just the robe he was wearing, but Jack didn’t care. The Count was leaning on the balcony rail, the night lights of New York flickering over his pale skin. Yes, Jack was certainly glad he’d invited the man back. He had a feeling tonight was going to be amazing.
“Hi,” he said.
The Count turned, a small smile gracing his lips. “Hi.” He stepped closer.
“I got us a little champagne,” Jack held the glass out.
Ianto took it, his cool fingers brushing over Jack’s, making the model shiver. “I do not drink…wine,” he answered, in that accent.
Crap. “So much for that.” Jack took a hefty drink from his glass, setting it down on the small wrought-iron table he’d put out on the balcony. “I have just the thing…a Perrier water and a twist of lime…I’ll be right back.” Jack made to move back into the apartment, but a hand on his arm stopped him as he moved past the open door.
He turned…straight into the intense gleam of those blue eyes. The Count pulled him closer, one hand going to Jack’s waist as the other grasped the back of the model’s neck, holding his head in place as soft lips met his in a kiss that had Jack’s toes literally curling.
Jack met the kiss just as passionately, opening his mouth under the Count’s questing tongue. He didn’t know how long they stood there, pressed against each other, battling for dominance…but he didn’t care. This kiss…it was electrifying. He thought he might orgasm just from it alone.
Eventually though, they parted. Jack was breathing quite heavily; but for some reason Ianto wasn’t. His mind barely registered it before he was being moved back toward the bed, and if Jack doubted that his new would-be lover wasn’t affected by what was happening, then the hardness that pressed against his hip disavowed him of that notion immediately.
“Look,” Jack whispered, “before we go any farther, I just need to tell you this is purely physical. I don’t expect to see you after tonight. You’re not obligated to call me, there’s no commitment…”
His knees hit the bed, and the model was suddenly falling onto his back, Ianto following him down. Cool hands were reaching under the robe, driving Jack to distraction.
“Are you listening to me?” he gasped.
“No,” was the answer, as Ianto began to kiss and lick his neck.
“Why not?” God, that felt so amazing…what this man’s tongue was doing to him…
“Because you’re not saying anything I want to hear.”
That tongue moved up to just behind Jack’s ear, and like that this stranger found one of his major erogenous zones. “I’m…just trying to be honest,” he practically squeaked.
“Don’t be honest.” The hands were still moving, untying the robe and giving him more access.
Jack decided that Ianto was wearing way too many clothes, and proceeded to do something about it. “What should I be?”
“Be beautiful.” Lips were once again at his neck, just at the pulse point. “Be romantic.” A hand roamed past Jack’s waist, and the model no longer cared that the Count seemed to have cold fingers. “Be mine.”
There was a small nip at his neck, then a slightly stronger pain. “Oh God…what are you doing?’ Jack suddenly felt completely breathless, his arousal ramping up almost to the nth degree. “Are you biting me?”
And that was the last question Jack asked that night.
“I don’t know, Gwen.”
Dr. Gwen Cooper glanced up from the notes she’d been taking, to look at Jack. He was stretched out on the couch, wearing those jeans that drove her absolutely mad.
“It wasn’t at all like what we share,” he went on, sighing.
“You mean,” she answered, “dinner, the movies, occasional sex to relieve anxiety?”
“Oh yeah.” The blissed-out look on Jack’s face told her more than his words were, and it bothered her that someone had put that expression on his face…and it wasn’t her. “It was wild…crazed…it was the most unbelievable sexual fulfillment I’ve ever experienced.”
“Why don’t you come by the office next Monday and I’ll give you a shot of penicillin.”
“Don’t be snide, Gwen. I want to get to the bottom of this.”
Jack had been her patient for a long time now, and they’d moved into their version of intimacy not long after they’d met. Sure, it was frowned upon to sleep with a patient, but this was Jack Harkness here, and Gwen would have dared any of her colleagues to say no to him. “Well, that’s what I’m here for,” she answered. “Let’s analyze this.”
“All right.” Jack looked at her askance, waiting.
“Let’s see…the first time this happened you blamed it on low blood sugar. The glucose tolerance test – which I paid for – proved negative.”
Jack stretched slightly, giving Gwen a very nice view of his well-defined stomach muscles. She wondered if her vibrator was still in her desk…
“The time before that,” she went on, trying to get on with business, “you said you were having a double-crisis day – “
Gwen went rooting around in her files, pulling out Jack’s latest biorhythm chart. “No…last night you were on a definite optimistic upswing.”
“That’s true,” Jack conceded, a slight smile blooming.
“So much for that bullshit.” Gwen took a seat back in her leather chair, swiveling back and forth.
“Doctor, I think you’re losing your objectivity,” Jack protested.
“Moving right along, the time before that you claimed the CIA had put a mind-altering drug in your Axe body spray. But we checked, and they’d never heard of you!”
“Which I find hard to believe!”
“What does that leave?” She began swiveling again, as she considered her patient/lover lying so decoratively on her couch. “What causes you to behave with such rampant promiscuity, Captain Tightpants?”
Jack was watching her, not seeming at all fazed by her mini rant. He had one eyebrow raised, as if daring her to go on.
Suddenly, a thought crossed her mind, one that she didn’t like thinking at all. “No…it couldn’t be.”
“Just tell me,” Jack growled.
“Well, either you’re angry at me because of my ambivalence about committing to a definitive relationship – after nine years – or, and this is probably the case…” She looked at him shrewdly. “This is just a fantasy.”
“A fantasy?” Jack scoffed.
“You call this a fantasy?” Jack tilted his head to the side, his hand reaching up to stroke his neck. “Did you ever see a more amazing love bite like that before?”
Gwen moved closer, until she was leaning over Jack. Her heart did a lurch, then began beating a bit faster out of fear.
On the model’s neck were two small, perfect bite marks.
“Well?” Jack demanded.
Gwen slumped down onto the couch next to Jack. “Oh my God.”
“What?” Jack was now getting irritated.
“It can’t be!”
“It can’t be what? God, Gwen…make some sense!”
“Count Ianto Jones.” It couldn’t be, not after all this time…
“How did you know his name?” Jack’s irritation turned to curiosity, judging from the questioning look in his eyes.
“Of course he’s alive. I was just with him last night.”
“Jack…darling…” She had to get through to him.
“You met him a long time ago; he was a very great man.”
“No, my grandfather, Dr. Fritz Van Helsing.” She took a deep breath, resting her hands on Jack’s shoulders. “He was the first to discover that…thing…you slept with last night.”
“Thing? Excuse me!” Jack reared up, throwing Gwen’s hands off. His blue eyes flashed as he stared at her.
“Tell me…how many times did he…” she swallowed, not really wanting to ask but knowing she had to. “…do it?”
Jack actually blushed. “Two and…and half. I fell asleep.”
“No, I mean how many times did he…” God, she really didn’t want to ask, she didn’t want to think it was too late to save Jack. “…bite you.”
He rubbed his neck, smiling slightly. “Just once. Like I said, it was our first date.”
“It was your first…and your last.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re a jealous bitch, Gwen.”
Gwen jumped up, heading toward her book case. She glanced at the titles on the spines, until she found the one she was looking for. Quickly thumbing through the pages, she found what she was looking for. “’Three bites from the vampire, and the victim is doomed’,” she read, looking straight at Jack when she was done. “Sweetheart, if that monster bites you twice more, you’ll become a vampire…a living corpse.”
Jack laughed. “If last night was any indication of what it’s like being a corpse, it sure beats the hell out of living!”
“Jack, I’m serious!”
“Gwen, you’re crazy! A vampire? In New York City? In the 21st Century?”
She sat back down beside Jack, taking his hand in hers. She had to make him listen! “Sweetheart, trust me. Your life is in danger. I almost love you.” Jack rolled his eyes at that, but Gwen plowed on. “Can I just see him? Meet him, with you I mean?”
“I don’t know,” Jack shook his head. “He’s meeting me for drinks later, then taking me for dinner…” He glared at her. “Don’t mess it up!”
Gwen wanted to crow with delight, but settled for looking contrite. “No, I won’t. Thank you.”
The timer on her desk went off, and Gwen was up and looking at her watch. “That’s time.”
Jack glanced at his own watch. “Really? Already? Time just flies.”
He stood up as well, straightening his clothes. Gwen ushered him toward the door, but stopped him just as Jack was reaching for the doorknob.
“Sweetheart, there’s one other thing.”
Jack turned the power of his blue eyes on her, and Gwen felt herself wavering a little. “Yes?”
“You haven’t paid for any of these sessions in over a year,” she bit the bullet and went on. “It’s not for me, the accountants are all over me, so I’d like a little…you know…”
Jack nodded, then suddenly sighed. “Look, I forgot my checkbook. I know exactly where it is.” He rested his hands on her shoulders. “Is it okay if I pay you Tuesday? I’ll remember my checkbook then.”
Gwen smiled. “Sure, but remember what Freud said…’If you don’t pay for it, you don’t get better.’”
Jack’s lips – and what nice lips they were – followed along with the quote. “I remember. Thank you, Gwen.”
“You’re welcome, darling. Bye.”
After Jack had gone, Gwen closed the door and leaned against it. The expression on her face was somewhat crazed…not that she realized that, of course. “Jones…alive, and in New York!” If it was in her nature, she might have rubbed her hands together almost gleefully. But she didn’t. “I won’t let him get Jack. I won’t…”