m-findlow.livejournal.com

Title: Better together
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack, John Hart
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 2,183 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for Challenge 182 - Together at fan_flashworks
Summary: Jack's newest assignment is probably going to be his toughest.

Jack wasn't sure why the assistant director had asked to see him. He didn't usually warrant someone that high up speaking to him, getting most of his mission briefs direct from the onboard communication console that fed into his quarters aboard the massive Time Agency vessel. Even calling it his quarters was a bit of a stretch. It was a serviced apartment style setup, just like dozens of others, housing Time Agents who were in between missions. Few stayed there more than a couple of weeks at a time, often only a few days, before heading out on their next assignment.

Jack didn't need a permanent place to stay, or to keep his personal effects, which collectively could have fit in a large satchel easily. He liked being on the move and not tethered to any one place, always travelling light. Some might have called it running away from home and responsibility, but he struggled to name a Time Agent who hadn't done just the same as him. They were all running from something - war or political unrest, past lives and criminal pasts, or families that they'd disappointed. Upholding the laws of the Shadow Proclamation was a way to regain some control over their lives that couldn't be found elsewhere.

He pressed the button on the hallway panel, just outside the assistant director's suite. He looked down and surveyed himself, not exactly dressed for a meeting with someone of the diretctor's station, but having only just gotten back from his last assignment. The tight black leather pants and the equally fitted black t-shirt that had been his undercover wardrobe, weren't quite what he would have chosen for making a good impression.

Nor did he know the reason for being summoned, trying to second guess anything he might have done that wasn't strictly kosher with the Agency's guidelines. He didn't exactly take advantage of the ability to travel anywhere in space and time, since there was some minor monitoring of such travel, but every agent was known to occasionally enjoy a little bit of extra something on the side. The job was demanding, and sometimes you just need a little extra reward to celebrate a job well done, or perhaps a job that had not gone quite so well. The Agency knew it happened, and whilst they weren't strict in policing it, they would, and had, punished serious offences. Even so, he couldn't recall any recent obvious policy violations. He didn't get further chance to ponder it before the sleek metal door slid open with a hiss, revealing the modern  yet sparse interior.

The assistant director looked up from his screen. 'Ah, Jack, thank you for coming at such short notice. How are the Teranians?'

He sat down on the seat in front of the assistant director's desk. 'They should have a new cabinet appointed within the week. All of the senators who were part of the illegal smuggling ring have been apprehended.'

'Good. A fine job you've done in difficult circumstances.'

'Thank you, sir.'

The assistant director sighed heavily. 'It's a shame really to have to do this to you, but I'm afraid I've got no other option.'

Jack frowned. Had he done something wrong?

'I'm assigning you a partner, Jack.' He held out his hands placatingly before Jack could utter a sound. 'Now I know you do your best work out there on your own, but I'm at a loss as to what to do with him. Think of it more as a tail and collar than a partnership.'

Tail and collar was Time Agency terminology for partnering up more experienced agents with less experienced ones. It was what you did with recruits in training, letting them tag along, showing them the ropes of what to do and what not to do. Recruits would follow but take no part in the assignment. From there they'd move up to probationary agents, still tail and collared by full agents, but now they were proper pairings. So much of what they did  relied on instinct and hands on experience, that there was really no other way to learn the skills necessary to do the job. All the classroom teachings in the world could help them understand languages, history, cultural customs and political allegiances, but what separated good agents from bad ones was the ability to think on your feet and react to situations as they occurred. It was also what separated good agents from dead ones.

'He's probationary?' Jack asked, making the automatic assumption.

'Not exactly,' the director replied, handing over a thin metal disc, smaller than a coin. Jack took it and slipped it into the side of his vortex manipulator, pulling up the file on the agent in question.

'Agent 269,' the director recited. 'Currently known as John Vasko.'

'Never heard of him,' Jack replied.  

Around the Agency it was by numbers that most of them were known. They changed names so often, being undercover on assignments, or having to protect themselves from undesirables that crossed their paths in the line of duty, that most of them couldn't remember what their real names were anymore. Jake had changed his name a half dozen times in his ten years with the Agency. It was considered almost a record, being only twenty eight years old. Most agents would have altered their identity half a hundred times, and Jack was still younger than most of the top agents in the field.

That he hadn't heard of Agent 269 wasn't really a surprise. He tended to keep to himself, even in Agency circles, preferring to strike up friendships with people he met along the way. Ones who didn't know who he was or what he'd done, and who knew even less what he was capable of doing. He'd love them and leave them before it got to that.

A small file sprang up as a projection from his wrist strap, displaying a holographic image.  The man was older than him by a few years, facial expression somewhere between a smirk and a snarl, yet still striking in his own way. He looked like the type of agent who charmed his way out of situations, not unlike Jack. You used what the gods had given you, and if that meant whoring yourself to get the job done, then that's what you did. What struck Jack more was the long list of former agents who'd partnered with him, none for very long he noted.

'His last partner was Agent 174?'

That was one name that rang very loud bells for Jack. She'd been feisty and a hell of a lot of fun. If he had to be partnered with someone, he wouldn't have minded her one bit. She was an excellent agent, and even more talented between the sheets, teaching him a few new tricks.

'Agent 174 was unfortunately decommissioned during their last assignment together,' the director replied.

Decommissioned. More Agency lingo. It mean dead.

The word was like a kick in the guts. 'What happened?'

'Agent 269 happened,' the assist director replied bluntly. 'I won't lie to you, Jack, he's a loose canon, multiple personalities, several stints in decontamination,' Agency speak for rehabilitation,' and yet I can't get rid of him. The problem is that he's still good at what he does, and he tackles assignments that other agents wouldn't have the stomach for. The Commissioner is on my case to have him reassigned, and I can't find any agent profile that's like to be able to handle him except you.'

'Why me?'

'Agent 269 has certain... tendencies. Think of him as a kid who doesn't like to share his toys and you're pretty close to the mark. Your own file precedes you. I understand you to be somewhat flexible in certain things. I suspect that you may prove more of a challenge for him.'

Jack sat their in stunned silence. Was the director really suggesting what he thought he was? He didn't do relationships with partners, especially not ones with 269's history. A challenge was a complete understatement. He was basically being asked to shag the guy in order to get him to tow the line.

'Director, I don't think-'

'Right now I don't care what you think, Jack!' the director barked. 'I don't like it either, so we're both equally unhappy about it. He's too volatile to let him handle assignments on his own. If he won't work with you, we'll have no choice but to terminate him. I've been assistant director for fifteen years and in almost that time I've never had to terminate. Don't make this the first time.'

Jack cringed. He'd heard stories from way back in the day when the odd agent went totally rogue. Being locked in a pressure vessel and atomised wasn't a pretty way to go.

'You're just going to have to find  a way to work together,' the director sighed, sounding resigned to the fact. 'If I had another option, I'd take it.'

Jack slumped back in the chair. Could it really be as bad as all that? Maybe what happened to Agent 174 had been an accident. Maybe 269 wouldn't be interested in sleeping with him, which would be a relief. He didn't even know the guy. Perhaps they could make a working relationship of it. Without any say in the matter, he'd have to give it a chance.

A tone chimed out on the assistant director's communications panel, signalling someone at the door.

'That'll be Agent 269. Only two hours late,' the director said, making it sound as if that was quite an achievement.

The door slipped open, and there stood the man who looked every bit the same as his image, playful grin on his face. He was garbled in tight stonewash jeans and a white t-shirt that stretched over his frame, covered with a small leather jacket in a shade of military green and dark aviator sunglasses propped on his head. He wasn't unattractive by any means, but the way he swaggered into the office like he owned it filled Jack with a heavy weight in his stomach.

'Always lovely to see you, Director,' he grinned. 'I'm here for my spanking. Now, would you prefer the left cheek or the right?'

John caught sight of Jack sitting in the occupied chair.

'Oh,' John leered at Jack's physique, which was currently unfortunately emphasised by his wardrobe. 'He's pretty.'

'Agent 174 was pretty,' Jack growled, suddenly incensed by the news of her death. Judging from the way John stood there, he surmised that it had no been no accident. Not in the sense that 269 could have done something to prevent it.

John just shrugged, lacking any sense of remorse. 'She was alright. A little prudish if I'm honest. '

The director caught the look of hatred on Jack's face, and the clear animosity already fostering between them. Gods help them all, he thought. He didn't really want to lose another agent but what choice did he have? Jack was young, perhaps still a little green around the edges, but he was a good agent, and would probably be one of their best given a few more years.

'John, this is Agent 158. He's your new partner for now and the foreseeable future.'

'He's a kitten,' John smirked. 'I thought I was getting full agent, not a probie. Although I do possess some very valuable skills that I'm more than happy to impart.'

The assistant director cleared his throat loudly, trying to avoid the obvious innuendo.

'Jack has served as a full agent for nearly ten years. He was top of his academy year and one of our best agents.'

'Best at what, looking pretty?' John grinned. 'Not that I'm complaining. He's just going to find it hard to compete standing next to me.'

'Are you always this arrogant?' Jack seethed, turning around in his chair.  

'It's called charming,' John retorted. 'The girls go wild for it. And the boys,' he added, leering at Jack again, quirking an eyebrow.  

'If you two are quite done with the introductions,' the assistant director interrupted. 'I have your first assignment.'

He slid another disc across the desk and Jack swiped it before John's hand could wrap around it, giving him a look that dared him to try and take it.

'I know you've only just come off duty, Jack,' the director said, 'so take a day or two to rest up  but I expect both of you ship side within 72 hours.'

'Road trip. Goodie!' John beamed, before turning and making to leave. 'Don't overpack sweet cheeks, because I won't be carrying your luggage. I'll be at the bar until then, unless you'd like to come back to mine so we can get to know each other better,' he said fading down the corridor.

Jack nearly crushed the disc in his vice like grip, knuckles going white.

'If this is my reward for doing a good job, I'd hate to see what you'd give me for doing a bad job.'

'Make it work, Jack. He's your problem now.'