Fandom: Torchwood

Characters: Jack, Gwen, Ianto

Author: m_findlow

Rating: PG

Length: 3,225 words

Content notes: none

Author notes: Written for Challenge 348 - Pants

Summary: Jack isn't having much luck going it alone.


Jack's computer beeped out an alert. In the emptiness of the hub the sound was quite loud, or at least felt like it was. Still, it gave him something to get excited about. Anything had to be more exciting than catching up on his six-monthly budgets which were already about four months overdue. If he procrastinated just a little while on her, maybe no one at the Home Office would bother asking him for them. Still, it wouldn't get him out of budgeting for the next six months. Sigh. Did anyone even really care what Torchwood spent their money on. It was hardly banana lounges and mojito parties. More bandaids and duct tape, just holding everything together.

He clicked away from the hazy confusion of spreadsheets and pivot tables, bringing up the now well-worn rift alert programs Tosh had devised years ago. The amount of analysis you could get before even leaving the hub was very handy. Certainly better than simply walking into the unknown. Now it was more like the known unknown.

He studied the readings. One rift alert about the size of a weevil. Jack groaned. He just loved weevils. And on a night when he was running solo. It was bad enough when a local one went rogue. It was worse when it was a new arrival. They didn't get how things worked in Cardiff, which meant they wouldn't take too kindly to being captured, tagged and issued with Torchwood standard blue boiler suits before being dumped in the sewers. The suits weren't fashionable by any stretch of the imagination, but then weevils didn't really rock any kind of fashion.

'Spreadsheets or a hot date with the new guy in town?' Jack asked himself out loud. No debate, really. With a flick of his wrist he had his coat in his grip and scooped up his webley and a spare can of weevil spray.



The SUV pulled up along the curb of a quiet section of the high street, not far from where the rift alert had emanated. It was a few blocks east of his location, but recent roadworks and re-jigging of the one way system had blocked off several narrow roads, hindering him from getting to the exact location. He could have chanced it, but it was a dark night with rain clouds blocking out the stars and moon and he really didn't want to run over a poorly lit "road closed" sign and have it do damage to the SUV's undercarriage. Ianto would rip him a new one and the "I told you so" lectures would drag on for days.

Jack flipped open his wrist strap and studied it for traces of rift radiation; a sure sign that what he was looking for was nearby. And weevils could move fast when they wanted to. The SUV was handy, but pursuits like these were always easier on foot. Jack could outrun a weevil if he had to, either to catch up with it, or to get away from one.

The drizzle that had persisted during Jack's short drive had let up as he alighted from the vehicle and he took that as a good sign. There was nothing worse than pursuing weevils through the rain. A scrap with a weevil was hard enough without it slipping and sliding under you - or on top, as the case sometimes was.

Jack kept one eye on his wrist strap signal and the other on the streets around him, particularly the shadowy spots. He'd been jumped by a random weevil before and it hadn't been a pleasant experience.

The signal led him into a side alley with a cul de sac at the end. Jack grinned. Nowhere to go now. It was a Mexican stand-off. He paused at the corner and poked his head around for a quick look before throwing himself into the fray. He was surprised to find not a weevil lurking in the alley, but something grey and blobby, with long tendril arms wriggling every so slightly.

Okay so not a weevil. 'Hi there!' Jack said, giving a wave. 'Haven't seen you round these parts before. Get out much?'

It didn't respond or give any real indication it had heard him. It just sort of continued to sit there, its tentacles slithering in slow motion. If it was in any kind of distress from being out of the water, it didn't show it. Then again, maybe it was a land dwelling tentacle alien. Many were in Jack's experience, and many were also a lot of fun on a Friday night after a few hypervodkas.

'You're not as kinky as some of my past conquests,' Jack observed, watching its sluggish movements as he stepped closer. 'On the whole, I'm a big fan of your subset of species. Not saying we can't have a good time, but I'm gonna need a little more from you. Fun is a two way street, if you know what I mean.'

When the creature continued to just sit there, Jack wondered if he'd misread its lack of response for injury. That or perhaps it was one of those species that communicated through non verbal means. He wasn't sensing any telepathy, so perhaps it was a tactile communicator. Without trying to add any stress to it, he dropped to his haunches, slowly reaching out to touch the side of its bulbous body. As he did, a tentacle whipped out with a movement that caught him completely off guard, wrapping itself arpj dhis ankle and pulling his leg out from under him. He landed ungracefully on his back as his centre of gravity realigned itself.

Sucked in by the helpless, wounded creature act. He should have known better than to fall for that one. Textbook, really.

Okay, you got me. Literally. He tried to laugh it off, hoping it was only toying with him, but the tentacle wound its way further up and around his right leg, pulling him closer.

The creature's mouth, which had so far been concealed underneath its body, now rose up, widening itself and showing off a thousand tiny razor sharp teeth hiding inside its maw in concentric rings of brutal saws. Jack didn't have to guess that his limbs wouldn't enjoy meeting up with them. 'Woah, that's a lot of teeth. Your dentist must love you.' His comments went unacknowledged as it squeezed tighter around his leg, drawing it closer.

'I'm all for vore fantasies,' Jack said, beginning to squirm harder against the tentacles that had him firmly in their grip, 'but this looks a little bit painful, if you know what I mean. Pleasure and pain for sure, but usually a bit of both for all parties concerned.' His initial reaction was to pull his webley from its holster, but as he did so, a second wayward tentacle knocked it from his hand with a backhanded motion, sending it out of reach, up the alley and almost out into the street beyond.

He moved faster, this time to his pocket for thrncan of weevil spray, making sure that this one didn't get whacked away. In a two-handed grip he let loose a generous amount of that disabling concoction, covering both the creature's mouth, head and the appendage holding him captive.

The weevil spray had absolutely no effect on the creature whatsoever. It didn't so much as flinch. Jack tried an alternative course of action, pelting the canister directly at the undulating mouth. It caught in the teeth and there was a sharp screech as the metal was ripped apart and shredded like it was nothing more than balsa wood.

Jack panicked slightly, struggling harder. If it could do that to a solid metal canister, his fragile flesh and bone stood absolutely no chance. Was there any coming back from being pulverised into minced meat? He didn't want to find out the answer.

He scrabbled on the damp concrete, losing a boot and the sock that had been attached to his foot as he tried to get whatever leverage he could to push away. The boot disappeared into the hungry mouth without fanfare. He forced the other one off with his now bare foot, trying to give it anything apart from him that might satiate its hunger.

He tugged at his belt, removing it with the practised ease of someone who had undressed in a rush more times than he'd had hot breakfasts. He gripped it by the soft end and whipped it at the alien, hitting it with the metal buckle. 'Yeah,' he cried, feeling a fleeting moment of victory as it flinched from being struck. 'How'd you like that?' He caught the top of its bulbous head twice before the buckle was caught by a spare tentacle and drawn into its gaping series of razor teeth. Jack let go before his arm was tugged in with the belt currently being ingested like a large spaghetti noodle.

He looked desperately towards his webley, strewn down the other end of the alley and out of reach. It might have only been a few feet but might as well have been a million miles. It didn't stop him struggling to get closer to it, but his hopes were finally crushed when a long tentacle lashed out near it, sending it scuttling away further and slipping down into the gutter and the open storm water drain. The clank and plopping sound of it was just about the most devastating thing he'd ever heard.

Jack considered his options. He still had his coat. He could wriggle out of it and offer that as well but decided against it. As much as he didn't want to be octopus chow, he couldn't bear to sacrifice his beloved coat. It would be such an inglorious end to his faithful servant. His coat was definitely off limits.

Having chewed through everything leather Jack had to offer it, the tentacles began to wrap more tightly around his legs again, ensuring them both. If his shoes and belt had been appetisers, then Jack was going to be the main course.

He wriggled and fought against the tugging. His trousers, without their belt keeping them tight against his hip were slipping down. The sticky tentacles had a grip on them but Jack's legs inside them were still somehow able to move. With a deft move. Of his hands he unclipped his braces and continued to wriggle in the opposite direction. Jack's foot disappeared inside the leg of his pants and the base of the tentacle squeezed around the loose fabric, continuing to pull it towards its mouth. They both tugged in opposite directions and before Jack knew it, his legs were free and his trousers lay on the ground, quickly consumed. He scrambled back on his buttocks, not daring to lose sight of the alien for even a second, but making the realisation at the same time that he'd also lost his underwear in the process. Now wasn't the time to be fussy about dragging his bare backside across the rain dampened alleyway and worrying about concrete burn.

Once he was a few feet away he managed to pull himself to his feet, ready to break into a run, anticipating that the creature wouldn't be satisfied that its meal had gotten away. Instead it surprised him by just lying there, gurgling as it processed the last of his trousers through its series of stomachs.

'What? After all that you're not even going to try?' Jack felt slightly affronted. Stupid lazy alien that would only eat things unfortunate to get close enough for it to pull them in. 'Clearly Darwinism doesn't apply where you're from,' Jack said, though slightly relieved that he was not only still alive, but seemingly in far less danger now that he was a safe distance away. 'I happened to like those boots, by the way. Done a lot of miles in them and do you know how long it takes to really break in a good pair of shoes?' If the alien had an opinion on shoes it didn't share it.

Jack set his hands on his hips, feeling the breeze created by the stretching of his arms forcing his shirt and coat open, exposing everything below to waist to the Cardiff elements. 'Right. Well… You just stay there for a bit and look all innocent whilst I go figure out a way to get you back to the hub before you lure in any other poor sucker.'

He padded barefoot back to the SUV, doing an inventory of what he had that might work. Part of him wished he had the plasma cannon, or at least the proton flame thrower, but Ianto always complained that they took up far too much room and should only be carried in situations where it was likely to be needed. Jack's argument was that you never knew when you might need it… until you needed it. Still, it was that or sacrifice a whole bunch of smaller weaponry, medical supplies and emergency blankets. Admittedly, they got a lot more use.

Limited by his options, he grabbed for the large coated wire net and a stun gun set at maximum charge. It felt inadequate but he'd made do with less. Resolving himself that this was something of a take no prisoners situation, in which he was in fact taking a prisoner, he jogged back to the alley, ready to pounce and disable.

Only the alley was empty.

'Oh, you've got to be kidding me!' Jack cried, seeing nothing but a slightly wet sheen from where it had dragged itself along the alley and down into the same storm water drain that had claimed his beloved webley. One thing he knew was that he wouldn't be following after it. Knowing his luck it was just lying in wait for him to try again. Down in the dark, wet sewers he didn't fancy his chances of making another getaway.

He sighed again. 'Great. Chalk up yet another demonstration of your amazing prowess.' He was going to need proper backup, weapons, a double reinforced steel containment unit and probably a few kilos of dog food. Even then, there was no telling how much it might move from its current location by the time he geared up. The net and the stun gun he was currently carrying might only have aggravated the creature.

As if to make matters worse, the rain began to fall again, light for a second or two but quickly turning into a steady downpour. He might not have noticed it so much but for the fact that his feet were now in an inch of ice cold water collecting in puddles on the pavement. Some nights it didn't pay to leave the hub. Should've stuck to those spreadsheets. He quietly wondered who would win in a fight between it and a weevil. If it stayed long in the sewers it was bound to find one and try to eat it. Judging by Jack's own luck, the weevil might come off second best.

He chewed his lip in annoyance at the lack of options. 'I'm coming back for you,' he yelled down the drain over the sound of the rainwater now gushing down into it. 'I may not like weevils, but I like you even less.'

He was absolutely saturated by the time he got back to the car, peeling off his sodden coat which now weighed about ten pounds more than usual. He shuddered as the rain made quick work of soaking his shirt in the three seconds it took to toss his coat on the passenger seat and climb inside, closing the door and shutting out the rest of the inclement weather. He cranked up the heater and made the damp journey home.



Jack's second surprise of the night came in the form of the two people who were standing in the hub, awaiting his arrival as he slipped through the side door from the car park. He hadn't even noticed their vehicles, but there was no mistaking them standing in front of him with questioning looks on their faces.

'You're leaving puddles behind you,' Ianto said, eyes cast judiciously down at the floor where Jack was still dripping rainwater.

'Hey guys,' Jack said, giving them a sheepish little wave. 'I can totally explain.'

Gwen set her hands on her hips. Ianto gave a long suffering sigh. 'It's not even Naked Tuesday, and before you ask, no this is not turning me on.'

'At least he's not totally naked,' Gwen replied.

'Yes, because that would make it loads better.'

Jack frowned at the pair of them. 'What are you guys even doing here? I thought I told you to take the night off?'

Gwen cocked her head at him as if to say "could we really leave you to your own devices?" Given the state of him, she probably had a point.

Ianto cleared his throat awkwardly. 'Twelve reports to police complaining about sightings of a man with no pants on, running around the streets before getting into a large black car with the word Torchwood emblazoned on its roof. Of course we heard about it.'

'So, are you going to tell us why we're here, dealing with you on our night off, or not?' Gwen demanded to know.

Jack ran a hand back through his hair, flicking more water droplets on the concrete floor in the process. 'Big, flesh-eating tentacle monster. I literally escaped by the seat of my pants.'

Gwen's eyebrows raised in skepticism. 'More like you escaped by giving away your pants.'

'Dignity was not high on my list of priorities at the time.'

'It so rarely is,' Ianto replied deadpan.

'Hey, you don't understand how close I was to being pet chow.'

Ianto gave him an up and down look, standing there without pants. At least his shirt tails covered most of him, sparing Gwen her blushes. Ianto he didn't care so much about. He'd seen it all before a hundred times and wouldn't mind it one but. 'Is that supposed to be a euphemism?' Ianto asked. 'I'm never sure these days.'

'No. We're talking teeth. Really big sharp teeth. Thousands of them. An alien insinkerator.'

Gwen's arms folded across her chest, all business. 'Where is it now?'

'Um, it sort of got away.'

'Oh, well that's just brilliant. You didn't think to call us first? Maybe have a bit of a plan on how not to nearly get eaten and then let it scamper away? Or did it find you too old and stubborn to chew?'

'It slinked off down into the sewers while I was off trying to get gear to restrain it.'

'I'm sure it'll turn up again soon enough,' Ianto replied. Jack couldn't tell if he was coming to Jack's defence or just being pragmatic.

'How do you figure that?' Gwen asked.

'Well, with one set of pants that's only going to cover two tentacles. It's bound to be looking for a few extra pairs for the rest of them and army surplus is hard to come by.'

Gweb grinned at her teammate. 'Perhaps we could even lure it out of hiding with a few more pairs of Jack's Calvin Klein's. Maybe it likes designer.'

Jack scowled at them. 'You two are so not funny.'