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My Immortal. Chapter 11.
And it is here! TGiQ from The Immortal's side. Of course now I am suddenly terribly worried that it won't live up to expectations - mostly I was just trying to make sense of everything we saw on screen. (Backwards & in high heels... 'twasn't easy.) Sorry it's been so long, but there was RL, and then I wanted to finish my ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
grazieprego fic before the deadline. (It too features Jack as The Immortal, but re-writes the end of TGiQ and makes it even more crack-tastic.)
But - enjoy! And many smooches to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kathyh who totally salvaged the ending! Previous chapters here.
Summary: Captain Jack *is* The Immortal.
Pairing: Buffy/Jack.
Rating: PG-13.
Spoilers: S2 of Torchwood.
Genre: Crossover. (BtVS/Torchwood)
Word count: 5700 words approx.
Chapter 11
Spike: Don't believe him for a second. The Immortal's neck-deep in all of this.
Angle: 'Course he is. He's screwin' us. He's screwed us before, and he's screwin' us now.
Wednesday 21st of April. Early evening.
Manoeuvering the Jeep through Rome’s evening traffic, Jack contemplated dropping by the hospital to check on Bryant. Not personally of course - charming his way into being left alone with a computer for a couple of minutes ought to do the trick.
Not that he was worried, exactly, but it’d be nice to make sure that the man was OK... Sure he’d seemed lucid enough the night before when Jack had paid him a little visit, but Jack liked to be on the safe side and he had some time to kill before he was meeting up with Buffy.
Although first he’d better drop off the day’s load of alien artefacts at the local branch of UNIT, maybe switch cars? A Jeep wasn’t really the best vehicle for navigating the narrow streets where tonight’s club was situated.
Then he spotted a little figure walking along in the long shadows - the ears were quite unmistakable - burdened down by several large shopping bags. Curbing a smile he pulled over, ignoring the random loud exclamations from other drivers, and rolled down the window.
“Giuseppe! Would you like a lift?”
The demon turned at the sound of his voice, and then did the most adorable half-shuffle - clearly caught between embarrassment and delight, and unsure how to respond.
“Immortal! I could not possibly-”
“Hey - look on it as a favour to me. It’s not every day I get to see ears as fabulous as yours!”
He winked and the demon would probably have blushed if he was capable of it. Instead he stopped protesting and loaded his shopping into the car before settling down, thanking Jack profusely all the while.
“So,” Jack cut in as he once more braved the traffic, “How come you are doing the shopping - if I may ask? If I remember correctly Tecla never trusted anyone else with that task...”
“Oh, poor Tecla! It is her hip, you see...” there followed a long tale detailing the woes of Tecla’s hip - how she needed a walking stick these days and how the waiting list for the shaman was much too long and they were thinking of complaining to the proper authorities. When that subject had been exhausted Giuseppe started on a extended complaint about elderly demons who went on business trips when they should have stayed at home, instead causing their hosts severe headaches.
As Jack helped him carry the bags into the house, Tecla appeared and highjacked the monologue, filling in the rather vital detail that if this Capo di Famiglia wasn’t returned to his family in LA within a certain timeframe the result would be a bloodbath.
Jack shot the inauspicious-looking bag that contained the Capo’s remains a speculative look.
“I could probably give you a hand with that...”
Giuseppe shook his head vehemently. “Oh no no no. Do not worry, Immortal. The Capo was client of Wolfram e Hart - they have sent people to pick it up. It will be fine.”
It wasn’t until he’d finished the cup of coffee that Tecla had insisted he have that the dots joined up in his head.
Wolfram & Hart + LA = Angel.
For a long moment he sat still, turning the situation over in his head, and had almost decided to just get home and change before meeting up with Buffy when he with a jolt remembered the P.I. who had to have woken up by now...
Oh crap.
Sighing deeply he pulled out his phone and asked if they’d mind him making a swift call. As soon as he left the kitchen he heard Tecla start to grouse about Giuseppe’s shopping and all the things he’d gotten wrong...
Ignoring the argument he found the number for W&H, Rome, and moments later found himself dealing with Ilona’s PA, whom he thankfully managed to overawe within seconds.
“Immortal!” Ilona’s voice trilled into his ear. “Where have you been? You do not call, you do not write. You come to town and never make time for your old friend Ilona - is very sad! Especially since we have a new building that would benefit from your handsome face. It is very dull, but-” he could easily picture the shrug, “- is better than nothing.”
Despite himself he couldn’t help smiling and engage in the small talk.
“A new building? What was wrong with the old one?”
“You have not heard? It collapsed! But it was extraordinary coincidence... inside were all my enemies who were plotting to kill me. And then - boom, crash - they were all dead. So tragic - remember how beautiful my office was? New one is too modern. I try to decorate a little - a woman’s touch you know... you must come see it! I am sure you remember my touch, mmm?”
“How could I ever forget?”
Damn, he did miss her - it was rare to meet someone as ‘adventurous’ as her. On the other hand though, compared to Buffy... no he’d scored the jackpot this time round. Time to get down to business.
“Ilona... I actually called for a reason. I need a little info. Have you heard about the Capo di Famiglia?”
He briefly explained the situation and then asked if she could find out who LA had sent to retrieve the head. Waiting was excruciating, but when the answer finally came it didn’t make things any better.
Spike and Angel... en route to Rome.
What to do?
For a moment he imagined whisking Buffy off to the airport, watch her face as she saw Spike getting off the plane... Best surprise ever.
On the other hand... Spike probably had his own reasons for not wanting her to know that he was alive (Jack could easily think of plenty), and it was possible that they were just here for the head.
Not to mention the fact that he’d almost lost her once already, and given how little time they had he didn’t really want her to run off with someone else - especially since the someone else would never even bother to thank him.
And then, given Bryant, it was quite conceivable that they’d decided to pick up straight where they’d left off last time and just mess around with him... They might even think he was dating Buffy just to spite them.
But he didn’t want to tackle them head-on - and also he didn’t want to miss out on the scheduled dancing with Buffy. Best to just... slip away.
“Immortal?” Ilona asked, and he realised he’d lost himself in thought.
“Um... sorry. Do you remember them? They tried to get in to my party that time - when we first met?”
“Ah yes, of course!” she laughed, and he chuckled in response. Her laughter was very infectious and... distracting. Focus.
“Listen. Would you mind... if they happen to come your way... could you try to keep them away from me? I mean, they’re drop-dead gorgeous, but I’ve never been able to get along with them, and I’d like a quiet evening without anyone shouting outside. It upsets the servants.”
“No problem, Caro. If I see them, I shall keep them all to myself. I like handsome vampires, especially ones as famous as these.”
“That’s the spirit,” he smiled, and - miraculously - ended the conversation without promising to visit.
What next? Buffy. He needed her out of her flat, since that would probably be their first port of call... (He tried his best not think about how much easier this would all be back in Torchwood, where everything he could possibly need was, literally, at his fingertips.)
Seconds later he was listening to Buffy musing about what to wear.
Trying his best not to sound impatient, he asked her if she’d mind hurrying up? He was on his way to the club already and, given all the Spring Break totty, they’d better get there early or there would be no room on the dance floor.
“OK, I’ll be quick,” she replied, sighing.
“Excellent. Oh - by the way, could you put Andrew on? I might have heard of an apartment...”
From the muffled sounds he could pick up she practically threw the phone at her house guest, and before the boy could speak Jack began.
“Listen - I’m supposedly talking to you about a new flat. However, I need your help.”
Andrew squeaked - whether this was from excitement or resentment Jack couldn’t tell, nor cared.
“First of all, get Buffy out the door as quickly as you can. Get Dawn to help you if necessary.”
“Um - Dawn’s out already.”
“Oh. Well, that makes life easier. Here’s the thing. Our two favourite vampires in the whole world are on their way to Rome, and I’m not sure why. OK, they have legitimate business in town, but it’s possible that they are going to come looking for Buffy. If they do come knocking on your door, I want you to do your best to distract them.”
“What?” Andrew squeaked (this time with definite panic). “But... but what will I tell them if they begin... you know... asking questions?”
And this boy had once thought himself a ‘master villain’? Jack curbed an intense desire to call Andrew many derogatory names.
“Tell them the truth, obviously.”
“But... but...”
Jack sighed deeply, and looked out of the window and into the darkness that had now fallen over the town. What he wouldn’t give to have Suzie instead of this young fool. But he had to work with what he had.
“The easiest way of lying is not to do it at all - to carefully edit what you say. You’re a bright kid Andy, I’m sure you know what I mean. Just don’t let on that you know that I’m onto them.” He thought for a moment, then decided that a little honesty of his own might be the best way of getting the boy on his side.
“Look, I just want to hang onto Buffy for a little longer, OK? They have forever to chase her, I have right now, so a little help would be very welcome. Oh - and try your best to hide or sabotage Buffy’s mobile phone.”
There was a pause. “You’re kinda a control freak, you know that?”
Jack chuckled. “Kiddo, you have no idea. And by the way, if you screw up? I’ll find you an extra special place in The Room of Pain. Goodbye!”
He shut off another squeak and walked back to his demon hosts.
“I have to be off, sorry about abusing your hospitality. Just one thing. I know the guys who’re coming to pick up your head and...” He wondered how to frame the information.
“As it happens I’m dating their ex-girlfriend. I don’t know what they think about that, but you might want to keep an eye on them, just to make sure that they actually get back in time, since it’s possible that they’ll get... distracted. If you need help, I could probably get the head to LA - just give me a call. Here’s my number...”
He left amid abundant gratitude and set off for the club, thinking to himself that he was probably just getting paranoid in his old age. Both Spike and Angel had become genuine heroes since last they'd met, so there was no reason why they’d still consider him their enemy... Who knew, maybe the Capo was a friend of theirs? It could be...
It had been more than a century since Darla and Dru, so it was within the realm of possibility that that they were OK with Buffy dancing with whomever she chose, right?
Lips curving into a deep smile he contemplated the joys of dancing with Buffy, and banished all vampires to the very back of his mind.
***
The banishment was very successful.
Partly, of course, because of Buffy, who turned up wearing a lovely white top, tight in all the right places and almost gleaming against her golden skin. And how she danced - she was a bright and bold flame that he never had the slightest chance of holding, but whose light warmed him all the way through.
What she needed, he thought, was someone who could nurture that fire forever, relish the light and yet shelter it... someone who had only one life, and could devote it to her, and her only.
He could tell that the people watching thought her a little wild... figured she was some American student he’d picked up, spreading her wings. He smiled as he contemplated the fact that this was just time off for her. That her real dancing was far more dangerous and a misstep could mean death.
It was one of those moments when he wished, fiercely, that he could allow himself the luxury of falling in love with her.
And then the moment was lost.
It took a few seconds before he registered the sounds of fighting that were coming from the other end of the long, narrow room, but when he did, he stopped and tried to look over the heads of the crowd.
The sight that met his eyes was not good for his blood pressure. As far as he knew there was only one person in the world with that precise combination of bright-white hair and lethal fighting skills.
Andrew, he grimly decided, was the greatest idiot known to mankind - ‘telling the truth’ quite obviously didn’t mean ‘tell them exactly where we’re going’. Unless it was belated payback...
Buffy - of course - was curious too, so he had to pull her back, immensely grateful for her short stature.
“Do you really want to get involved in a bar brawl?” he asked, sneaking a hand around her ass. “We could nip out the back and have some... fun, instead.”
(It was all about prioritising: Distract Buffy now - think of a suitable punishment for Andrew later.)
“You’re evil,” she countered, eyes glittering with mischief, although as he ushered her out the back door, she stopped and frowned.
“You OK?” he asked, and she did an odd little shudder. “Yeah. I just... no, that’s ridiculous.”
Once outside in a dark back alley (the walls rough and still warm from the sun), he did his best to make her forget anything except what he was doing to her - and his best was pretty darn good, if he said so himself... It had, on occasion, saved his life back when that had still been a concern, and Buffy didn’t stand a chance. Especially since she didn’t know that it was a diversion tactic. Neither of them noticed a screeching of tyres from the strada.
But just as things were getting interesting his phone began warbling out ‘My Immortal’.
Swearing in a language that wouldn’t exist for another 3000 years, Jack pulled out the phone. Caller ID revealed that it was Giuseppe, so answering was obviously the only option. He was rewarded with a long complaint about the fickleness of vampires - culminating in the statement that Giuseppe would rather hand the Capo’s head to a Sluggoth demon than those irresponsible creatures, so could he maybe prevail upon The Immortal to-?
Jack sighed, wondering why it was always the same story with those two. Why couldn’t they just leave him alone? Just once? If he didn’t know better he’d have thought that they’d bumped off the Capo just to have an excuse to turn up.
“Of course I’ll help. Where are you? I’ll come and get the head immediately. There can’t be much time to spare now.”
Switching off the phone he turned to Buffy, smiling apologetically.
“So... how do you feel about helping stop a demon war?”
She pulled a face. “But these are new shoes. Can’t someone else do it? I think Bella and Christina are on patrol duty tonight...”
He laughed, planted a swift kiss on her lips and then took her hand, leading her back to where he’d parked the Jeep.
“No worries my Princess, all you need to do is look after a bag.”
She got into the car, not looking remotely convinced.
“Is it like a special, magical bag that needs to be carried by a Slayer or it explodes? ‘Cause there are still plenty of other girls who can do that, and you could pick up where you left off.”
She shot him a significant look, and he had to force himself to start the engine and set off. Typical for his tactics to rebound, he thought grumpily, and driving along cobbled streets in a Jeep was just as tricky as he’d thought it would be. Trying his best to keep the rumbling to the bare minimum and glancing worriedly into the back - hoping that he’d packed everything as tightly as he thought - he explained the situation.
“Right, there’s this guy - the Capo di Famiglia of the Goran demon clan - who happened to die on a business trip here in Rome. He - or rather his head - needs to get back home within a certain timeframe so his family can reanimate him or something. I can’t really remember, it sounded gross so I zoned out. Anyway, if they don’t get him back there’ll be a power-vacuum and I’m sure you can fill out the rest yourself. So I, unselfish person that I am, have agreed to get him a lift back home to the US of A.”
She tilted her head. “How?”
“By borrowing another plane off my army friends.” Seeing the look on her face, he shook his head.
“Oh I’m not flying this time. But as it happens I have something they want anyway, so really it’s just a lot of back-scratching.”
Moments later they arrived at the meeting place where Giuseppe stood like a tiny little tower of Italian propriety, bag clutched in his hands and a surprisingly nifty sports car parked behind him.
“Would you mind waiting?” Jack asked Buffy, and then got out before she could answer. It was decidedly tricky to keep her out of the loop, but he couldn’t exactly send her home...
“Immortal, we are forever indebted to you.”
“Hey, it’s no problem, honestly. I was just wondering - what about our dear undead acquaintances?”
Giuseppe smiled, modest but with a wicked tinge. “I... have a little plan.”
Jack shook his head, trying to imagine one Italian butler against the two worst vampires of all time... He knew where he’d put his money.
“Knock yourself out. Just remember that W&H will be very cross if you actually damage them permanently.”
The butler nodded, imperturbable as always, and Jack said goodbye and jumped back in the car. He tossed the bag to Buffy who immediately looked inside, and then zipped it up with rather too much vigour.
“Note to self: Demon heads yukky.”
Carefully manoeuvring through the narrow cobbled streets, Jack pulled out his Torchwood phone, and - apologising to Buffy yet again - called up a certain UNIT general. He’d spent hours of his life on the phone to the man, slowly and painstakingly going over where all the pieces of the alien spaceship should go, and it gave him intense satisfaction to demand a plane asap.
The discussion lasted until he was at his house, but Jack could quote directives and access codes with the best of them, and UNIT - as the good military institution it was - snapped to attention and did as it was told. It also gave him a perverse sense of pleasure to be discussing highly classified matters without Buffy being able to penetrate the language.
(She could tell that he was showing off, but she merely rolled her eyes and shot him a look that let him know that she thought he was twelve. Extraordinary how all women - anywhere, anywhen - had that particular trait down to perfection.)
Parking the Jeep round the back - hoping that the vampires wouldn’t think to come to his house just yet - he turned to Buffy.
“Just need to get a couple of things, would you mind waiting? Again?”
She sighed, clearly resigned to sacrificing her evening on the altar of Greater Good. “Fine. I’ll stay and decorate the ugly car.”
“Excellent!”
He ran in through the kitchen door and almost bumped into Francesca.
“Just the person I was looking for! Could you get me a card - something nice, but professional-looking? With a string of some sort? Right this very second?”
“Si, si,” she replied and disappeared off to wherever the stationary lived. Taking the stairs three steps at a time, he bounced into his office, unlocked the super secret briefcase and skimmed through all his carefully written ‘manuals’ - picking out the relevant ones and putting them in a folder, before swiftly scribbling the attendant codes on the front.
At the bottom of the stairs he found Francesca waiting with a small cream coloured card and envelope, with a bright red ribbon attached.
“Perfect!” he grinned, planted a kiss on her cheek and disappeared out the kitchen door again to the waiting car. Tossing the folder into the back he sat down and dug out a pen from his pocket, wondering what sort of message to give his irritating arch-nemeses.
Then he noticed Buffy watching with curiosity writ large on her face, and so he swiftly settled for
‘With regards, The Immortal’
put the card in the envelope and handed it to her.
“Could you tie that onto a handle? Thank you! And get ready for a rough ride - speed is rather of the essence I’m afraid.”
***
Their arrival at the base was markedly different this time round. The guard had obviously been waiting for them, and - after a swift inspection of his papers and quoting the correct codes - they went straight through, a group of soldiers already waiting and ready to assist. Jack parked the Jeep, grateful that the airstrip was on the other side of the building - it’d put both distance and a blocked view between things and Buffy.
Telling her to sit tight he jumped out and took charge - he might be showing off a little (or maybe a lot), but there was something inherently satisfying about getting the machinery of an army to work. Grabbing the folder, he stopped briefly and caught Buffy’s eyes as he relieved her of her bag duty.
“I am really sorry about how tonight turned out - I promise to make it up to you. As soon as I’m done here we can do anything you like, OK?”
***
She nodded, and he ran after the soldiers, busy making sure that they didn’t drop the mysterious, ‘classified’ boxes of who-knew-what. But she noticed that he didn’t let go of the bag.
Sighing deeply she sat back in her seat. ‘Help’ stop a demon war indeed - it had obviously been his polite way of asking if she’d like to tag along, rather than be dumped back at her empty flat, or left behind on her own in the club. Last time she’d been at this base she’d felt like a third wheel - this time she wasn’t even that. She was no-wheel Buffy. Unneeded, unimportant Buffy.
Also: Bored Buffy.
Her frustration reminded her of a conversation she’d had with Dawn after the whole Baxter thing... She’d still been thrown by the ‘accept my boundaries or leave’ ultimatum, but Dawn had said something that had resonated: ‘It seems like you finally found a guy who’s not made you the centre of his world’.
It was more than that though... He had a whole life that she was no part of, and that he wasn’t interested in sharing. To be fair he treated her slaying in the same way - he’d never even suggested helping her out with patrolling or training or... anything really. He quite simply trusted her to run her own life, and expected the same courtesy in return.
Which meant trusting him, despite his obvious secrecy...
She started drumming her fingers on the armrest. What on earth was keeping him? How long did it take to hand over a bag?
Desperate for a diversion she turned on the radio, and for a few minutes listened to a news report, read out in that rapid staccato common to all radio broadcasts.
Her Italian wasn’t good enough to catch more than a few snippets, but from what she could gather there had been some sort of explosion in the middle of Rome... but no casualties. Typical - the second she left, interesting stuff happened. She reached for her cellphone, intending to call Bella and ask her to investigate, but then remembered that she hadn’t been able to find it when she went out.
Then the radio started playing Barry Manilov and she turned it off. The Immortal better grovel a lot when he came back.
***
As he supervised the alien items being carefully and safely packed away in the plane, Jack couldn’t help frowning.
“Where’s the pilot?” he asked, and then let his eyes follow a thumb jabbed over the shoulder of a retreating private. And suddenly he was smiling widely.
“Ermanno! Why am I not surprised that you’re the best pilot around?”
The soldier looked taken aback and a little confused - clearly he’d not been told anything besides ‘Immediate work - get ready!’ - and Jack stepped forwards.
“Now this, is brilliant. First of all, have you ever handled alien technology?”
Ermanno shook his head.
“Well, now’s your chance! Although I presume I don’t need to tell you not to have an experimental poke around? All the details are classified, but I’ve got a bunch of items here for NASA - specifically the Ames and Dryden Research Centres, California.”
“NASA?” the soldier asked, voice breathless, excitement spreading over his features as he took the folder Jack held out.
“I always-” he stopped, a little embarrassed, but Jack tilted his head.
“What?”
“I always dreamed of being an astronaut, when I was little. I would look up at the stars - so bright and shining - pretend I could travel out there in a real spaceship, meet aliens - be a hero, a... an adventurer, an explorer discovering new worlds. Instead...” he was clearly a little abashed still, but Jack kept silent, watching him intently.
“Instead I found out that while I cannot go out there, sometimes the stars come down here - only fragments, and often bearing danger, but always extraordinary. I thought I was dreaming when UNIT recruited me, when I discovered the truth...”
His voice trailed off, and Jack swallowed involuntarily. That bright excitement, the radiant hopes and dreams... he remembered feeling like that, and suddenly wanted nothing more than to wrap himself up in youth and innocence and a world of wonder. Wished he could take this boy and show him the stars for real, see galaxies reflected in his eyes and feel him vibrate with the sheer, unadulterated joy of endless possibility.
But he was Captain Jack Harkness, Torchwood - swagger and innuendo and utter ruthlessness - and there were certain things he couldn’t have (not now, maybe not ever). And this was one of them.
“I had dreams just like that when I grew up,” he replied, smiling warmly, trying his best to find that tone that verged just on the edge of friendship, but wanted to promise more - that aching longing that said ‘If only things were different...’
Ermanno smiled back, hair ruffling ever so slightly in the night’s breeze, and Jack had to fight against the sudden urge to push him up against the plane and - well, do all sorts of things. Except they were actually in a hurry...
“But- I have another mission for you, beside the alien tech. I believe you were told to bring a set of civilian clothes?”
The young man nodded, pointing towards the plane, and Jack smiled.
“Excellent! Now - this mission is undercover and classified up to the eyeballs, I’m afraid. On the plus-side it is very straightforward, although time is of the essence. What you have to do, is to first of all go to LA. There you need to change into the civilian clothes and go to this address.” He handed over a slip of paper with W&H’s address. “It’s a law firm, and they need this-” he held up the bag, “within the next few hours or there’s going to be civil war.”
A somewhat startled look. “Civil war?”
“Yup. So it’s important you get there as quickly as possible, got it? The code name is ‘Capo di Famiglia’.”
A nod, and Jack continued, studying him. “I don’t suppose you’ve been in contact with non-human life forms?”
Ermanno shook his head, curiosity peeking out of the now professional facade.
“No, sir. But we have been given a lot of instruction during training.”
“Good. You see, the law firm in question has a very... broad workforce. I can trust you to act normally, yes?”
“Of course, sir!” was the eager reply, and Jack smiled.
“Finally, I want you to make sure that the bag is placed on the CEO’s desk, OK?”
The Sergeant nodded, and Jack handed over the bag.
This was goodbye... for good, since Jack knew that he’d have to stay the hell away from this place from now on. Entirely too much mixing of aliases for his liking. Still - no need to let that stop him from making a lasting impression.
Stepping forward half a step he put his hands on the young man’s neck and leaned in, closed his eyes, and gently let their lips meet, savouring the taste. One kiss wasn’t much, but it was more than nothing...
Pulling away he smiled softly, but with an edge of good old-fashioned camaraderie. “Good luck soldier. Break some records.”
“Y-yes Captain,” Ermanno replied, looking flushed and somewhat shaken, breath uneven. Jack wanted to lick him.
Instead he stepped back, saluted, and the soldier responded without thinking - the familiarity of the ritual sharply refocussing his mind.
With one last lingering look Jack turned and walked away.
How long had it been since he’d had a genuine pilot in his bed... especially one as gorgeous as Sergeant Mancini? Not to mention a threesome? Buffy could do with her horizons widening...
Quelling his pointless wishful thinking he found the base’s commanding officer, needing to inform him of the little extra trip that had been added. He could vividly imagine the consternation this would have caused back in England, but this was Italy and things were... different.
(One of the first lessons of a Time Agent: Learn the culture. Use it.)
And this country’s culture was wonderful. A favour for a favour - no fuss, no red tape. Grazie. Prego. Kiss-kiss. Everybody going home happy.
But when he finally got back to the car he saw that Buffy wasn’t going to be that easy to placate. She didn’t speak until he’d fastened the seat belt, then pursed her lips.
“OK. So I’ve been playing along, being the good girlfriend. Now, are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
He shot her a guarded look as he turned the key. There was no point in pretending that he hadn’t been keeping things from her...
“No.”
She studied him silently for a moment, and part of him held his breath, wondering if he was in for another inquisition. But then she sighed, shaking her head.
“It’s lucky for you that you’re so pretty.”
He couldn’t help grinning at that, and waved at the guard, feeling that deep satisfaction that came with a successfully executed job. Sure the head wasn’t in LA yet, but he trusted Ermanno to do his part - delegation, that was the key. Now he just had to pacify his girlfriend, who still looked fairly determined and not-letting-him-off-the-hook.
“What was in the boxes? Those that you gave the soldiers?”
“Um... nothing dangerous.” He caught the narrowing of her eyes, and shook his head vehemently.
“I swear, it was all harmless... just some fancy, but broken, machinery. Far more harmless than a demon head!”
She still didn’t look particularly appeased, so he resorted to apologising for the umpteenth time that night.
“Look, I’m sorry. Really, truly, sorry. This kinda blindsided me. I’ll make it up to you, seriously. Your wish is my command.”
She did an odd little smile. “Fine. Surprise me!”
For a few seconds his mind went completely blank, except for thinking that she was one hell of a smart girl - now he had to think of something spectacular enough to make up for a ruined evening, but without a clue about what she wanted. To buy some time he rolled down the window, the rich fragrances of the countryside at night filling the car and reminding him of Ermanno - eyes bright and wide - and he suddenly knew exactly where to go.
“Why don’t we go to an observatory? I promised to show you the stars, remember?”
His suggestion clearly took her by surprise - which meant that he had won already - and then she nodded a cautious OK.
“Great! I think the best place might be Monte Porzio Catone. It’s a bit of a drive, but it’ll be worth it, trust me!”
He smiled happily, thinking that even if Spike and Angel hung around all night trying to find them, an observatory was the last place they’d ever think to look.
Letting one hand rest on Buffy’s leg - so warm, so solid, so eminently nibbleable - he briefly wondered if Spike and Angel were chasing the actual Buffy, or just a chimera... something that could save them, fix them, make them fit - something to light up their world and be a guiding star in the darkness.
But you couldn’t catch a star...
You had to wait for it to come to you - even if it felt like the waiting was killing you.
Chapter 12.
grazieprego fic before the deadline. (It too features Jack as The Immortal, but re-writes the end of TGiQ and makes it even more crack-tastic.)But - enjoy! And many smooches to
kathyh who totally salvaged the ending! Previous chapters here.Summary: Captain Jack *is* The Immortal.
Pairing: Buffy/Jack.
Rating: PG-13.
Spoilers: S2 of Torchwood.
Genre: Crossover. (BtVS/Torchwood)
Word count: 5700 words approx.
Chapter 11
Spike: Don't believe him for a second. The Immortal's neck-deep in all of this.
Angle: 'Course he is. He's screwin' us. He's screwed us before, and he's screwin' us now.
Wednesday 21st of April. Early evening.
Manoeuvering the Jeep through Rome’s evening traffic, Jack contemplated dropping by the hospital to check on Bryant. Not personally of course - charming his way into being left alone with a computer for a couple of minutes ought to do the trick.
Not that he was worried, exactly, but it’d be nice to make sure that the man was OK... Sure he’d seemed lucid enough the night before when Jack had paid him a little visit, but Jack liked to be on the safe side and he had some time to kill before he was meeting up with Buffy.
Although first he’d better drop off the day’s load of alien artefacts at the local branch of UNIT, maybe switch cars? A Jeep wasn’t really the best vehicle for navigating the narrow streets where tonight’s club was situated.
Then he spotted a little figure walking along in the long shadows - the ears were quite unmistakable - burdened down by several large shopping bags. Curbing a smile he pulled over, ignoring the random loud exclamations from other drivers, and rolled down the window.
“Giuseppe! Would you like a lift?”
The demon turned at the sound of his voice, and then did the most adorable half-shuffle - clearly caught between embarrassment and delight, and unsure how to respond.
“Immortal! I could not possibly-”
“Hey - look on it as a favour to me. It’s not every day I get to see ears as fabulous as yours!”
He winked and the demon would probably have blushed if he was capable of it. Instead he stopped protesting and loaded his shopping into the car before settling down, thanking Jack profusely all the while.
“So,” Jack cut in as he once more braved the traffic, “How come you are doing the shopping - if I may ask? If I remember correctly Tecla never trusted anyone else with that task...”
“Oh, poor Tecla! It is her hip, you see...” there followed a long tale detailing the woes of Tecla’s hip - how she needed a walking stick these days and how the waiting list for the shaman was much too long and they were thinking of complaining to the proper authorities. When that subject had been exhausted Giuseppe started on a extended complaint about elderly demons who went on business trips when they should have stayed at home, instead causing their hosts severe headaches.
As Jack helped him carry the bags into the house, Tecla appeared and highjacked the monologue, filling in the rather vital detail that if this Capo di Famiglia wasn’t returned to his family in LA within a certain timeframe the result would be a bloodbath.
Jack shot the inauspicious-looking bag that contained the Capo’s remains a speculative look.
“I could probably give you a hand with that...”
Giuseppe shook his head vehemently. “Oh no no no. Do not worry, Immortal. The Capo was client of Wolfram e Hart - they have sent people to pick it up. It will be fine.”
It wasn’t until he’d finished the cup of coffee that Tecla had insisted he have that the dots joined up in his head.
Wolfram & Hart + LA = Angel.
For a long moment he sat still, turning the situation over in his head, and had almost decided to just get home and change before meeting up with Buffy when he with a jolt remembered the P.I. who had to have woken up by now...
Oh crap.
Sighing deeply he pulled out his phone and asked if they’d mind him making a swift call. As soon as he left the kitchen he heard Tecla start to grouse about Giuseppe’s shopping and all the things he’d gotten wrong...
Ignoring the argument he found the number for W&H, Rome, and moments later found himself dealing with Ilona’s PA, whom he thankfully managed to overawe within seconds.
“Immortal!” Ilona’s voice trilled into his ear. “Where have you been? You do not call, you do not write. You come to town and never make time for your old friend Ilona - is very sad! Especially since we have a new building that would benefit from your handsome face. It is very dull, but-” he could easily picture the shrug, “- is better than nothing.”
Despite himself he couldn’t help smiling and engage in the small talk.
“A new building? What was wrong with the old one?”
“You have not heard? It collapsed! But it was extraordinary coincidence... inside were all my enemies who were plotting to kill me. And then - boom, crash - they were all dead. So tragic - remember how beautiful my office was? New one is too modern. I try to decorate a little - a woman’s touch you know... you must come see it! I am sure you remember my touch, mmm?”
“How could I ever forget?”
Damn, he did miss her - it was rare to meet someone as ‘adventurous’ as her. On the other hand though, compared to Buffy... no he’d scored the jackpot this time round. Time to get down to business.
“Ilona... I actually called for a reason. I need a little info. Have you heard about the Capo di Famiglia?”
He briefly explained the situation and then asked if she could find out who LA had sent to retrieve the head. Waiting was excruciating, but when the answer finally came it didn’t make things any better.
Spike and Angel... en route to Rome.
What to do?
For a moment he imagined whisking Buffy off to the airport, watch her face as she saw Spike getting off the plane... Best surprise ever.
On the other hand... Spike probably had his own reasons for not wanting her to know that he was alive (Jack could easily think of plenty), and it was possible that they were just here for the head.
Not to mention the fact that he’d almost lost her once already, and given how little time they had he didn’t really want her to run off with someone else - especially since the someone else would never even bother to thank him.
And then, given Bryant, it was quite conceivable that they’d decided to pick up straight where they’d left off last time and just mess around with him... They might even think he was dating Buffy just to spite them.
But he didn’t want to tackle them head-on - and also he didn’t want to miss out on the scheduled dancing with Buffy. Best to just... slip away.
“Immortal?” Ilona asked, and he realised he’d lost himself in thought.
“Um... sorry. Do you remember them? They tried to get in to my party that time - when we first met?”
“Ah yes, of course!” she laughed, and he chuckled in response. Her laughter was very infectious and... distracting. Focus.
“Listen. Would you mind... if they happen to come your way... could you try to keep them away from me? I mean, they’re drop-dead gorgeous, but I’ve never been able to get along with them, and I’d like a quiet evening without anyone shouting outside. It upsets the servants.”
“No problem, Caro. If I see them, I shall keep them all to myself. I like handsome vampires, especially ones as famous as these.”
“That’s the spirit,” he smiled, and - miraculously - ended the conversation without promising to visit.
What next? Buffy. He needed her out of her flat, since that would probably be their first port of call... (He tried his best not think about how much easier this would all be back in Torchwood, where everything he could possibly need was, literally, at his fingertips.)
Seconds later he was listening to Buffy musing about what to wear.
Trying his best not to sound impatient, he asked her if she’d mind hurrying up? He was on his way to the club already and, given all the Spring Break totty, they’d better get there early or there would be no room on the dance floor.
“OK, I’ll be quick,” she replied, sighing.
“Excellent. Oh - by the way, could you put Andrew on? I might have heard of an apartment...”
From the muffled sounds he could pick up she practically threw the phone at her house guest, and before the boy could speak Jack began.
“Listen - I’m supposedly talking to you about a new flat. However, I need your help.”
Andrew squeaked - whether this was from excitement or resentment Jack couldn’t tell, nor cared.
“First of all, get Buffy out the door as quickly as you can. Get Dawn to help you if necessary.”
“Um - Dawn’s out already.”
“Oh. Well, that makes life easier. Here’s the thing. Our two favourite vampires in the whole world are on their way to Rome, and I’m not sure why. OK, they have legitimate business in town, but it’s possible that they are going to come looking for Buffy. If they do come knocking on your door, I want you to do your best to distract them.”
“What?” Andrew squeaked (this time with definite panic). “But... but what will I tell them if they begin... you know... asking questions?”
And this boy had once thought himself a ‘master villain’? Jack curbed an intense desire to call Andrew many derogatory names.
“Tell them the truth, obviously.”
“But... but...”
Jack sighed deeply, and looked out of the window and into the darkness that had now fallen over the town. What he wouldn’t give to have Suzie instead of this young fool. But he had to work with what he had.
“The easiest way of lying is not to do it at all - to carefully edit what you say. You’re a bright kid Andy, I’m sure you know what I mean. Just don’t let on that you know that I’m onto them.” He thought for a moment, then decided that a little honesty of his own might be the best way of getting the boy on his side.
“Look, I just want to hang onto Buffy for a little longer, OK? They have forever to chase her, I have right now, so a little help would be very welcome. Oh - and try your best to hide or sabotage Buffy’s mobile phone.”
There was a pause. “You’re kinda a control freak, you know that?”
Jack chuckled. “Kiddo, you have no idea. And by the way, if you screw up? I’ll find you an extra special place in The Room of Pain. Goodbye!”
He shut off another squeak and walked back to his demon hosts.
“I have to be off, sorry about abusing your hospitality. Just one thing. I know the guys who’re coming to pick up your head and...” He wondered how to frame the information.
“As it happens I’m dating their ex-girlfriend. I don’t know what they think about that, but you might want to keep an eye on them, just to make sure that they actually get back in time, since it’s possible that they’ll get... distracted. If you need help, I could probably get the head to LA - just give me a call. Here’s my number...”
He left amid abundant gratitude and set off for the club, thinking to himself that he was probably just getting paranoid in his old age. Both Spike and Angel had become genuine heroes since last they'd met, so there was no reason why they’d still consider him their enemy... Who knew, maybe the Capo was a friend of theirs? It could be...
It had been more than a century since Darla and Dru, so it was within the realm of possibility that that they were OK with Buffy dancing with whomever she chose, right?
Lips curving into a deep smile he contemplated the joys of dancing with Buffy, and banished all vampires to the very back of his mind.
The banishment was very successful.
Partly, of course, because of Buffy, who turned up wearing a lovely white top, tight in all the right places and almost gleaming against her golden skin. And how she danced - she was a bright and bold flame that he never had the slightest chance of holding, but whose light warmed him all the way through.
What she needed, he thought, was someone who could nurture that fire forever, relish the light and yet shelter it... someone who had only one life, and could devote it to her, and her only.
He could tell that the people watching thought her a little wild... figured she was some American student he’d picked up, spreading her wings. He smiled as he contemplated the fact that this was just time off for her. That her real dancing was far more dangerous and a misstep could mean death.
It was one of those moments when he wished, fiercely, that he could allow himself the luxury of falling in love with her.
And then the moment was lost.
It took a few seconds before he registered the sounds of fighting that were coming from the other end of the long, narrow room, but when he did, he stopped and tried to look over the heads of the crowd.
The sight that met his eyes was not good for his blood pressure. As far as he knew there was only one person in the world with that precise combination of bright-white hair and lethal fighting skills.
Andrew, he grimly decided, was the greatest idiot known to mankind - ‘telling the truth’ quite obviously didn’t mean ‘tell them exactly where we’re going’. Unless it was belated payback...
Buffy - of course - was curious too, so he had to pull her back, immensely grateful for her short stature.
“Do you really want to get involved in a bar brawl?” he asked, sneaking a hand around her ass. “We could nip out the back and have some... fun, instead.”
(It was all about prioritising: Distract Buffy now - think of a suitable punishment for Andrew later.)
“You’re evil,” she countered, eyes glittering with mischief, although as he ushered her out the back door, she stopped and frowned.
“You OK?” he asked, and she did an odd little shudder. “Yeah. I just... no, that’s ridiculous.”
Once outside in a dark back alley (the walls rough and still warm from the sun), he did his best to make her forget anything except what he was doing to her - and his best was pretty darn good, if he said so himself... It had, on occasion, saved his life back when that had still been a concern, and Buffy didn’t stand a chance. Especially since she didn’t know that it was a diversion tactic. Neither of them noticed a screeching of tyres from the strada.
But just as things were getting interesting his phone began warbling out ‘My Immortal’.
Swearing in a language that wouldn’t exist for another 3000 years, Jack pulled out the phone. Caller ID revealed that it was Giuseppe, so answering was obviously the only option. He was rewarded with a long complaint about the fickleness of vampires - culminating in the statement that Giuseppe would rather hand the Capo’s head to a Sluggoth demon than those irresponsible creatures, so could he maybe prevail upon The Immortal to-?
Jack sighed, wondering why it was always the same story with those two. Why couldn’t they just leave him alone? Just once? If he didn’t know better he’d have thought that they’d bumped off the Capo just to have an excuse to turn up.
“Of course I’ll help. Where are you? I’ll come and get the head immediately. There can’t be much time to spare now.”
Switching off the phone he turned to Buffy, smiling apologetically.
“So... how do you feel about helping stop a demon war?”
She pulled a face. “But these are new shoes. Can’t someone else do it? I think Bella and Christina are on patrol duty tonight...”
He laughed, planted a swift kiss on her lips and then took her hand, leading her back to where he’d parked the Jeep.
“No worries my Princess, all you need to do is look after a bag.”
She got into the car, not looking remotely convinced.
“Is it like a special, magical bag that needs to be carried by a Slayer or it explodes? ‘Cause there are still plenty of other girls who can do that, and you could pick up where you left off.”
She shot him a significant look, and he had to force himself to start the engine and set off. Typical for his tactics to rebound, he thought grumpily, and driving along cobbled streets in a Jeep was just as tricky as he’d thought it would be. Trying his best to keep the rumbling to the bare minimum and glancing worriedly into the back - hoping that he’d packed everything as tightly as he thought - he explained the situation.
“Right, there’s this guy - the Capo di Famiglia of the Goran demon clan - who happened to die on a business trip here in Rome. He - or rather his head - needs to get back home within a certain timeframe so his family can reanimate him or something. I can’t really remember, it sounded gross so I zoned out. Anyway, if they don’t get him back there’ll be a power-vacuum and I’m sure you can fill out the rest yourself. So I, unselfish person that I am, have agreed to get him a lift back home to the US of A.”
She tilted her head. “How?”
“By borrowing another plane off my army friends.” Seeing the look on her face, he shook his head.
“Oh I’m not flying this time. But as it happens I have something they want anyway, so really it’s just a lot of back-scratching.”
Moments later they arrived at the meeting place where Giuseppe stood like a tiny little tower of Italian propriety, bag clutched in his hands and a surprisingly nifty sports car parked behind him.
“Would you mind waiting?” Jack asked Buffy, and then got out before she could answer. It was decidedly tricky to keep her out of the loop, but he couldn’t exactly send her home...
“Immortal, we are forever indebted to you.”
“Hey, it’s no problem, honestly. I was just wondering - what about our dear undead acquaintances?”
Giuseppe smiled, modest but with a wicked tinge. “I... have a little plan.”
Jack shook his head, trying to imagine one Italian butler against the two worst vampires of all time... He knew where he’d put his money.
“Knock yourself out. Just remember that W&H will be very cross if you actually damage them permanently.”
The butler nodded, imperturbable as always, and Jack said goodbye and jumped back in the car. He tossed the bag to Buffy who immediately looked inside, and then zipped it up with rather too much vigour.
“Note to self: Demon heads yukky.”
Carefully manoeuvring through the narrow cobbled streets, Jack pulled out his Torchwood phone, and - apologising to Buffy yet again - called up a certain UNIT general. He’d spent hours of his life on the phone to the man, slowly and painstakingly going over where all the pieces of the alien spaceship should go, and it gave him intense satisfaction to demand a plane asap.
The discussion lasted until he was at his house, but Jack could quote directives and access codes with the best of them, and UNIT - as the good military institution it was - snapped to attention and did as it was told. It also gave him a perverse sense of pleasure to be discussing highly classified matters without Buffy being able to penetrate the language.
(She could tell that he was showing off, but she merely rolled her eyes and shot him a look that let him know that she thought he was twelve. Extraordinary how all women - anywhere, anywhen - had that particular trait down to perfection.)
Parking the Jeep round the back - hoping that the vampires wouldn’t think to come to his house just yet - he turned to Buffy.
“Just need to get a couple of things, would you mind waiting? Again?”
She sighed, clearly resigned to sacrificing her evening on the altar of Greater Good. “Fine. I’ll stay and decorate the ugly car.”
“Excellent!”
He ran in through the kitchen door and almost bumped into Francesca.
“Just the person I was looking for! Could you get me a card - something nice, but professional-looking? With a string of some sort? Right this very second?”
“Si, si,” she replied and disappeared off to wherever the stationary lived. Taking the stairs three steps at a time, he bounced into his office, unlocked the super secret briefcase and skimmed through all his carefully written ‘manuals’ - picking out the relevant ones and putting them in a folder, before swiftly scribbling the attendant codes on the front.
At the bottom of the stairs he found Francesca waiting with a small cream coloured card and envelope, with a bright red ribbon attached.
“Perfect!” he grinned, planted a kiss on her cheek and disappeared out the kitchen door again to the waiting car. Tossing the folder into the back he sat down and dug out a pen from his pocket, wondering what sort of message to give his irritating arch-nemeses.
Then he noticed Buffy watching with curiosity writ large on her face, and so he swiftly settled for
‘With regards, The Immortal’
put the card in the envelope and handed it to her.
“Could you tie that onto a handle? Thank you! And get ready for a rough ride - speed is rather of the essence I’m afraid.”
Their arrival at the base was markedly different this time round. The guard had obviously been waiting for them, and - after a swift inspection of his papers and quoting the correct codes - they went straight through, a group of soldiers already waiting and ready to assist. Jack parked the Jeep, grateful that the airstrip was on the other side of the building - it’d put both distance and a blocked view between things and Buffy.
Telling her to sit tight he jumped out and took charge - he might be showing off a little (or maybe a lot), but there was something inherently satisfying about getting the machinery of an army to work. Grabbing the folder, he stopped briefly and caught Buffy’s eyes as he relieved her of her bag duty.
“I am really sorry about how tonight turned out - I promise to make it up to you. As soon as I’m done here we can do anything you like, OK?”
She nodded, and he ran after the soldiers, busy making sure that they didn’t drop the mysterious, ‘classified’ boxes of who-knew-what. But she noticed that he didn’t let go of the bag.
Sighing deeply she sat back in her seat. ‘Help’ stop a demon war indeed - it had obviously been his polite way of asking if she’d like to tag along, rather than be dumped back at her empty flat, or left behind on her own in the club. Last time she’d been at this base she’d felt like a third wheel - this time she wasn’t even that. She was no-wheel Buffy. Unneeded, unimportant Buffy.
Also: Bored Buffy.
Her frustration reminded her of a conversation she’d had with Dawn after the whole Baxter thing... She’d still been thrown by the ‘accept my boundaries or leave’ ultimatum, but Dawn had said something that had resonated: ‘It seems like you finally found a guy who’s not made you the centre of his world’.
It was more than that though... He had a whole life that she was no part of, and that he wasn’t interested in sharing. To be fair he treated her slaying in the same way - he’d never even suggested helping her out with patrolling or training or... anything really. He quite simply trusted her to run her own life, and expected the same courtesy in return.
Which meant trusting him, despite his obvious secrecy...
She started drumming her fingers on the armrest. What on earth was keeping him? How long did it take to hand over a bag?
Desperate for a diversion she turned on the radio, and for a few minutes listened to a news report, read out in that rapid staccato common to all radio broadcasts.
Her Italian wasn’t good enough to catch more than a few snippets, but from what she could gather there had been some sort of explosion in the middle of Rome... but no casualties. Typical - the second she left, interesting stuff happened. She reached for her cellphone, intending to call Bella and ask her to investigate, but then remembered that she hadn’t been able to find it when she went out.
Then the radio started playing Barry Manilov and she turned it off. The Immortal better grovel a lot when he came back.
As he supervised the alien items being carefully and safely packed away in the plane, Jack couldn’t help frowning.
“Where’s the pilot?” he asked, and then let his eyes follow a thumb jabbed over the shoulder of a retreating private. And suddenly he was smiling widely.
“Ermanno! Why am I not surprised that you’re the best pilot around?”
The soldier looked taken aback and a little confused - clearly he’d not been told anything besides ‘Immediate work - get ready!’ - and Jack stepped forwards.
“Now this, is brilliant. First of all, have you ever handled alien technology?”
Ermanno shook his head.
“Well, now’s your chance! Although I presume I don’t need to tell you not to have an experimental poke around? All the details are classified, but I’ve got a bunch of items here for NASA - specifically the Ames and Dryden Research Centres, California.”
“NASA?” the soldier asked, voice breathless, excitement spreading over his features as he took the folder Jack held out.
“I always-” he stopped, a little embarrassed, but Jack tilted his head.
“What?”
“I always dreamed of being an astronaut, when I was little. I would look up at the stars - so bright and shining - pretend I could travel out there in a real spaceship, meet aliens - be a hero, a... an adventurer, an explorer discovering new worlds. Instead...” he was clearly a little abashed still, but Jack kept silent, watching him intently.
“Instead I found out that while I cannot go out there, sometimes the stars come down here - only fragments, and often bearing danger, but always extraordinary. I thought I was dreaming when UNIT recruited me, when I discovered the truth...”
His voice trailed off, and Jack swallowed involuntarily. That bright excitement, the radiant hopes and dreams... he remembered feeling like that, and suddenly wanted nothing more than to wrap himself up in youth and innocence and a world of wonder. Wished he could take this boy and show him the stars for real, see galaxies reflected in his eyes and feel him vibrate with the sheer, unadulterated joy of endless possibility.
But he was Captain Jack Harkness, Torchwood - swagger and innuendo and utter ruthlessness - and there were certain things he couldn’t have (not now, maybe not ever). And this was one of them.
“I had dreams just like that when I grew up,” he replied, smiling warmly, trying his best to find that tone that verged just on the edge of friendship, but wanted to promise more - that aching longing that said ‘If only things were different...’
Ermanno smiled back, hair ruffling ever so slightly in the night’s breeze, and Jack had to fight against the sudden urge to push him up against the plane and - well, do all sorts of things. Except they were actually in a hurry...
“But- I have another mission for you, beside the alien tech. I believe you were told to bring a set of civilian clothes?”
The young man nodded, pointing towards the plane, and Jack smiled.
“Excellent! Now - this mission is undercover and classified up to the eyeballs, I’m afraid. On the plus-side it is very straightforward, although time is of the essence. What you have to do, is to first of all go to LA. There you need to change into the civilian clothes and go to this address.” He handed over a slip of paper with W&H’s address. “It’s a law firm, and they need this-” he held up the bag, “within the next few hours or there’s going to be civil war.”
A somewhat startled look. “Civil war?”
“Yup. So it’s important you get there as quickly as possible, got it? The code name is ‘Capo di Famiglia’.”
A nod, and Jack continued, studying him. “I don’t suppose you’ve been in contact with non-human life forms?”
Ermanno shook his head, curiosity peeking out of the now professional facade.
“No, sir. But we have been given a lot of instruction during training.”
“Good. You see, the law firm in question has a very... broad workforce. I can trust you to act normally, yes?”
“Of course, sir!” was the eager reply, and Jack smiled.
“Finally, I want you to make sure that the bag is placed on the CEO’s desk, OK?”
The Sergeant nodded, and Jack handed over the bag.
This was goodbye... for good, since Jack knew that he’d have to stay the hell away from this place from now on. Entirely too much mixing of aliases for his liking. Still - no need to let that stop him from making a lasting impression.
Stepping forward half a step he put his hands on the young man’s neck and leaned in, closed his eyes, and gently let their lips meet, savouring the taste. One kiss wasn’t much, but it was more than nothing...
Pulling away he smiled softly, but with an edge of good old-fashioned camaraderie. “Good luck soldier. Break some records.”
“Y-yes Captain,” Ermanno replied, looking flushed and somewhat shaken, breath uneven. Jack wanted to lick him.
Instead he stepped back, saluted, and the soldier responded without thinking - the familiarity of the ritual sharply refocussing his mind.
With one last lingering look Jack turned and walked away.
How long had it been since he’d had a genuine pilot in his bed... especially one as gorgeous as Sergeant Mancini? Not to mention a threesome? Buffy could do with her horizons widening...
Quelling his pointless wishful thinking he found the base’s commanding officer, needing to inform him of the little extra trip that had been added. He could vividly imagine the consternation this would have caused back in England, but this was Italy and things were... different.
(One of the first lessons of a Time Agent: Learn the culture. Use it.)
And this country’s culture was wonderful. A favour for a favour - no fuss, no red tape. Grazie. Prego. Kiss-kiss. Everybody going home happy.
But when he finally got back to the car he saw that Buffy wasn’t going to be that easy to placate. She didn’t speak until he’d fastened the seat belt, then pursed her lips.
“OK. So I’ve been playing along, being the good girlfriend. Now, are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
He shot her a guarded look as he turned the key. There was no point in pretending that he hadn’t been keeping things from her...
“No.”
She studied him silently for a moment, and part of him held his breath, wondering if he was in for another inquisition. But then she sighed, shaking her head.
“It’s lucky for you that you’re so pretty.”
He couldn’t help grinning at that, and waved at the guard, feeling that deep satisfaction that came with a successfully executed job. Sure the head wasn’t in LA yet, but he trusted Ermanno to do his part - delegation, that was the key. Now he just had to pacify his girlfriend, who still looked fairly determined and not-letting-him-off-the-hook.
“What was in the boxes? Those that you gave the soldiers?”
“Um... nothing dangerous.” He caught the narrowing of her eyes, and shook his head vehemently.
“I swear, it was all harmless... just some fancy, but broken, machinery. Far more harmless than a demon head!”
She still didn’t look particularly appeased, so he resorted to apologising for the umpteenth time that night.
“Look, I’m sorry. Really, truly, sorry. This kinda blindsided me. I’ll make it up to you, seriously. Your wish is my command.”
She did an odd little smile. “Fine. Surprise me!”
For a few seconds his mind went completely blank, except for thinking that she was one hell of a smart girl - now he had to think of something spectacular enough to make up for a ruined evening, but without a clue about what she wanted. To buy some time he rolled down the window, the rich fragrances of the countryside at night filling the car and reminding him of Ermanno - eyes bright and wide - and he suddenly knew exactly where to go.
“Why don’t we go to an observatory? I promised to show you the stars, remember?”
His suggestion clearly took her by surprise - which meant that he had won already - and then she nodded a cautious OK.
“Great! I think the best place might be Monte Porzio Catone. It’s a bit of a drive, but it’ll be worth it, trust me!”
He smiled happily, thinking that even if Spike and Angel hung around all night trying to find them, an observatory was the last place they’d ever think to look.
Letting one hand rest on Buffy’s leg - so warm, so solid, so eminently nibbleable - he briefly wondered if Spike and Angel were chasing the actual Buffy, or just a chimera... something that could save them, fix them, make them fit - something to light up their world and be a guiding star in the darkness.
But you couldn’t catch a star...
You had to wait for it to come to you - even if it felt like the waiting was killing you.
Chapter 12.
no subject
I could list out the passages I liked, but we'd be here all day. I'm looking forward to seeing where this all ends up.
no subject
Aw, thank you! :D
Your Jack voice continues to be perfect, and the brief glimpse of Buffy we see was also spot on.
Jack just writes himself, honestly. And Buffy... heh. Once I'd worked out how, her part was easy - just like in the TV episode everything happens *around* her, and not *to* her. So she's just bored out of her mind by being sidelined.
I could list out the passages I liked, but we'd be here all day.
Not really a problem... *g*
I'm looking forward to seeing where this all ends up.
Will write quickly then.