implied past Giles/Jack, implied Jack/IantoCharacters:
Giles, Jack, IantoWord Count:
The characters and stories of Torchwood and Buffy the Vampire Slayer belong to their respective creators and ownersSummary:
Is twenty years long enough to mend a broken heart?Warnings:
Umm… I got nothing.
“Is this it?” Giles asked for had had to be the hundredth time.
Buffy looked over. “Nope,” she said, smacking her gum as she flipped through her own book. “It definitely had more horns than that.”
Xander let out an exasperated sigh. “Look, G-man, I think we’ve been through every single book you have.” He pushed his book away. “I’ve got to get to the site early in the morning. Meet again tomorrow night?”
Giles sighed and nodded in the affirmative. “Yes, I suppose we must. Buffy, keep an eye out on patrol. Perhaps if we had a better description, we might have more luck identifying this demon.”
“Sure thing Giles,” she replied, sweeping out of the store, Riley in tow.
“We should get going too,” came from Willow as she and Tara packed up their things. “We’ll be back and ready to research tomorrow.”
Giles sighed as he looked at the mess that his store always turned into by the end of one of these evenings. Hopefully they would get this sorted out tomorrow.
Unfortunately, they were not so lucky. Despite the fact that Buffy had rescued two teenagers from the demon in question, she had been unable to kill it, and the more detailed description did nothing to help them identify what they were looking for. The demon had been responsible for at least three deaths already, and they were no closer than they had been when it had first appeared.
When everyone had packed up and left for the third evening in a row with no results, Giles dug out a number he hadn’t used in twenty years, and had hoped to never use again despite the fact that he had been unable to part with it. Dialing the international code for England, he waited for his contact to pick up the phone on the other end.
“Jack? It’s Ripper. I need a consult.”
He had just finished closing up the shop when a knock sounded at the door. Knowing that the children would have just barged in, he knew who must be behind the door, but that still did little to prepare him for the man he hadn’t seen in two decades.
He hadn’t changed at all.
“Jack,” he said, inviting him and his friend inside. He led them over to the table where he had assembled their descriptions of the demon.
“It’s been a long time, Ripper,” Jack said, with the same easy going smile that he remembered.
“Yes, well, not all of us can enjoy perpetual youth,” he replied dryly. He turned to Jack’s… friend. “I see Jack’s manners are every bit as awful as I remembered. I’m Rupert Giles,” he said, extending a hand to the handsome young man.
“Ianto Jones,” came the reply, with a… Welsh accent, if he was not mistaken.
“I thought the description sounded familiar,” he started, getting right to the reason for their visit. “And when we completely failed to find anything, I thought that maybe we had been looking in the wrong direction entirely.”
“Well, this definitely sounds like a Greshnill,” Jack said finally. “Though I’m just as surprised as you to find one here. Like most aliens, they are definitely smart enough to stay far away from a hellmouth,” he said, smirking.
Giles ignored him. “Buffy should be here momentarily. She’ll take you around the town. You shouldn’t have any trouble finding it; it certainly hasn’t bothered to be discrete.”
For a few moments they stood around awkwardly, Giles polishing his glasses to avoid watching Jack and Ianto exchange meaningful glances.
“Ripper,” Jack says softly, and Giles just knows that he does not want him to finish that sentence, that he’s going to say something that he has avoided thinking about for twenty years and has absolutely no desire to talk about now
, of all times, and he is just about to cut Jack off when, mercifully, Buffy and the others barge in the door with their usual noise and boisterousness. He will never again berate them for lack of manners. Well, not for the rest of the week, anyway.
“Who’s the battle reenactment reject?” Buffy asked, sliding her book bag across the table.
“Captain Jack Harkness,” Jack said, letting his coat billow around him as he strode towards her across the shop. Giles and Ianto both rolled their eyes. Buffy didn’t look very impressed.
Before she could say anything else, he interrupted. “They’re here to help with our demon,” he explained, glossing over the truth a little. No reason to complicate things further by explaining that it was actually an alien. “If you could take them around the town until you encounter the demon, they will take it from there.”
He knew how much Buffy preferred to work alone, and how completely it went against her nature to let someone else take care of what she considered her job, and it was painfully obvious that she was dying to ask about a million questions, but for once she seemed to realize that now was not the time. She led them out the door, chatting happily about the route she normally took.
Giles went back to his office for a minute, leaving the rest of the Scoobies in the main part of the shop. He opened the bottom drawer of his desk and poured himself a moderately sized glass of scotch. If all went according to plan, Jack wouldn’t even have to come back to the store. He could put this whole thing behind him and pretend that it hadn’t happened.