Title: All day and all night
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 1,596 words
Content notes: None
Author notes: Written for Challenge 416 - Marathon
Summary: Jack is pursuing his target and not about to give up.



‘You're back early,’ Gwen remarked, watching Ianto glide up the short steps to her desk, sliding off his coat with practised ease and hanging it on the rack just inside Jack's office doorway.

‘Surplus to requirements,’ he replied, explaining why he alone, not he and not Jack, had made his way back to the hub. ‘Coffee?’

‘Please.’ She turned around on her swivel chair to watch him as he proceeded to the small space under the twisting stairwell, beginning the process. ‘Jack really sent you home?’

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. ‘Said he could handle it on his own. Personally, I think he was just hoping that I'd finish his quarterly briefing reports for the Home Office. They were due yesterday.’

‘Fat chance, eh?’ Gwen replied, smirking back. Nobody volunteered to do Jack's admin anymore, not even Ianto. Well, he'll just have to find that alien all on his own then, won't he?’

Ianto came over, offering Gwen the biscuit tin. ‘Yep. Hell of a day for it, too. Cardiff Marathon. Everyone is out and about today. Most of the city's roads are cordoned off and the rest are jammed with parked cars.’

Gwen took a bite out of her digestive. ‘I'm sensing an "I told you so" moment.’

Ianto dipped a hand into the tin and plucked out the last chocolate hobnob. ‘Who, me?’



‘Any word from Jack?’ Ianto called out, half buried in a huge box of papers he'd brought up from the archives, working steadily through them. Gwen didn't envy him the task.

‘Nothing,’ she replied, before deciding to tap into the phone of their illustrious leader and find out what the bloody hell he was up to. She pinged the phone and then opened up their tracking software, watching the red dot moving quickly. ‘No, wait. He's on the move,’ she said, piquing Ianto's interest. He came over to look over her shoulder and Gwen brought up a second program, translating his GPS location against local CCTV camera feeds. ‘Yep, he's found it. In pursuit,’ she confirmed, clocking the second figure running up ahead of him.

‘It looks almost human,’ Ianto remarked, getting his first glimpse of the alien that Jack was hot on the heels of. They both knew however, that you didn't run from Jack Harkness unless you were trouble.

‘God that thing moves fast,’ Gwen observed. Jack’s coattails were flying behind him as he pounded the city pavement, chasing after it.

They watched as it twisted around busy street corners and then Gwen heard Ianto mutter "oh, no."

‘What?’

The CCTV cameras bounced from one to another, following Jack's movement until he ran right into a crowd of bodies. ‘That,’ Ianto said, bringing up a second live camera feed on his own computer, just ahead of Jack's position. They'd run right into the starting pack of marathon runners.

‘Balls,’ Gwen swore.

‘And lots of them,’ Ianto quipped, watching as the crowds behind the barriers cheered the start of the men's race, the road filled with fast moving bodies. ‘He's going to lose it in the crowd.’

‘It's okay! Jack's got eyes on him,’ Gwen said, watching as Jack wove around runners in a pattern that mirrored the one of his target. Of all the bloody days, she thought.

‘Yeah, but for how long?’

They watched with intense concentration, following both sets of runners, Ianto keeping tabs on the alien runaway, Gwen fixed on the familiar shape of Jack.

‘Oh, there goes the coat,’ Gwen muttered, seeing Jack break away from the pack, shucking off his heavy greatcoat and flinging it at a barrier, where it missed by inches and dropped into a heap on the bitumen road.

‘Lovely,’ Ianto replied. ‘Guess who's going to have to pick that up,’ he said, quickly scribbling down the approximate address, and hoping it didn't get scooped up by an onlooker or trampled over by the peleton of runners coming up behind them. He doubted the Cardiff marathon had a dedicated lost property collection point.

Gwen frowned as they continued to watch the computer screen jump from camera to camera, sometimes losing the pair of them for up to thirty seconds as the software tried to hack the next CCTV with a view of the road, often grainy and sometimes only a few frames per minute. ‘What's it doing?’ Gwen asked. ‘Just running down the road like that where Jack can see it perfectly?’ She’d have been changing direction at every opportunity, trying to shake off a tail like that.

‘It can't get off the course,’ Ianto replied, pointing at part of her screen. ‘Those barriers they've set up all along each side of the road are four and a half feet high. Unless it's Spiderman it's not going to be able to jump those easily. Plus there's the crowds. Of course it could just wait for a break in the barrier. Emergency services will be dotted around, maintaining order and offering first aid.’

‘Jack will hopefully catch it first.’

Ianto nodded. ‘Hopefully.’



Gwen sighed, tapping at her keyboard with a disinterested finger. ‘How long’s it been now?’ she asked.

Ianto pulled back his jacket sleeve and consulted his watch. ‘Two hours and four minutes.’

This was ridiculous, Gwen thought. ‘In all that time, Jack hasn't made up a single inch of ground?’ She could scarcely believe that the pair of them had been chasing each other along the entirety of the course, slowing but never stopping. It had made for entertaining viewing for the first half an hour and then they'd both gotten bored. It was either stubbornness or stupidity. At no point had Jack called them for backup. Then again, he was probably saving all his breath for running.

‘There was only about twenty yards in it at one point,’ Ianto replied. ‘Of course, there was a time when Jack was a full hundred metres off the pace.’

‘I thought Jack had better stamina.’ She let the teasing suggestion hang in the air.

‘Only when it suits him,’ Ianto said, taking the bait. ‘I can't even get him. To join me on my morning run. Only managed it once and he didn't make it three miles before giving up.’

‘Do you think we should go out there and intercept?’ Gwen asked. If they stayed true to form, then they knew precisely where the alien was headed and could cut it off.

‘You don't want to see how it ends? They've made pretty good time so far, only another three miles to go. I mean, they're not going to win it. That chap from Rwanda is a good half mile out in front.’

Gwen raised a curious eyebrow at her teammate. Ianto was rarely one for vindictiveness. ‘Is this what Jack gets for sending you off and not needing your help?’

‘I was simply following orders.’

Gwen grinned. ‘I suppose we should have been recording all the CCTV footage.’ There were moments where it appeared utterly comical, watching Jack jog after the alien, unable to go any faster.

Ianto gave her a telltale smile. ‘Oh, don't worry. SC4 agreed to televise the event this year. I've set it up to tape every mile. We'll be dining out on this for months.’



Jack's head spun as it floated on a sea of the softest pillows. Why had he never noticed just how soft and inviting the road was? He could have laid here for hours. Gorgeous, beautiful road. So nice and flat and unmoving. He turned his head at the sound of shoes crunching and coming to a stop right beside him. The shoes paused a moment before speaking.

‘Are you dead?’ Ianto asked, looking down at Jack as he lay sprawled on his back, every inch of his pale blue shirt three shades darker and soaked through with sweat. His chest heaved up and down in long, pained attempts to get his breath back.

‘Death usually isn't this cruel,’ Jack finally replied, feeling a burning in his lungs and an ache in his legs that made them feel like jelly. ‘Never gonna be able to walk again.’

‘You will,’ Ianto assured him. ‘I retrieved your coat, by the way,’ he said, indicating the grey wool draped over his forearm, a little dusty but otherwise intact. ‘Thanks for just dumping it.’

‘Hot,’ Jack panted. ‘Why is it so hot?’

‘It's fifteen and partly cloudy, but I suppose when one has attempted the better part of a marathon, you might be a little bit out of puff.’

‘Puff?’ Jack wheezed and then it descended into a delirious chuckle before devolving into a cough. ‘It got away.’ Twenty six miles and he'd let it get away.

Nope. Gwen cut it off halfway down Bute Street, took its knees out from under it and it's currently enjoying Torchwood accommodations. But thanks for tiring it out first. Made our job a lot easier.’ Ianto paused and looked over his shoulder, before giving a thumbs up. ‘There's a whole bunch of paramedics over there itching to make sure you're okay. Should I let them?’

Jack couldn't even find it in him to lift his head up enough to see. ‘Are they good looking?’

Ianto rolled his eyes. ‘Fifty quid says you couldn't, even if you wanted to.’

‘You'd be surprised what I can manage.’

‘Just not catching an alien whilst running a marathon. He's fine,’ Ianto called back. ‘No medical assistance needed.’

‘Spoilsport. You just don't want to lose a bet.’

Ianto knelt down by his head. ‘You can personally prove me wrong later.’