backrose_17 (backrose_17) wrote,

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Fic: Wedding Crashers Chapter 1/13+Epilogue

Title: Wedding Crashers
Author: backrose_17
Word Count: 31,421
Prompt: Wedding Crashers
Pairings/Characters: Jack/Ianto, John/Tosh, Harold Saxon/Gwen, Jake/Ace, some Grey/Ianto, Owen/Andy, Doctor/Martha and others
Rating: R
Beta: royalladyemma
Summary: Jack and John made a career out of crashing weddings looking for quick hook-ups, but one wedding changes everything when they meet Ianto and Tosh. Everything they know changes; have they finally found their perfect matches?
Warnings: Language and sexual scenes
Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood or the movie Wedding Crashers.


Chapter 1


Cardiff, Wales, at the firm of Harkness and Hart, Attorneys at Law


As Jack Harkness continued to pace in his office, it became obvious to anyone who passed by that he was not in a good mood and it continued to grow worse the longer he talked on the phone. “Oh, bullshit! You saw the surveillance videotape. Your client’s slip and fall was the biggest acting job since I took the stage in eighth grade as Othello. And I blew!” Jack paused as he waited for the other party to speak. “Never going to happen. Maybe a quarter of that. Maybe. I’ll talk to the insurer.”


Jack paused in speaking as the firm’s secretary, Martha Jones, passed by, and he leaned back to watch her walk away. She was off limits; she was after all, the fiancée of one of his best friend John Smith, and that put her in the look-but-do-not-touch category.


A disembodied voice calling his name drew Jack’s attention back to the phone against his ear. “Great. Talk to your client.” Jack beamed as he sat down, pleased that this was going to be a win for him. “Yeah, next Friday. I got good seats. Bring that girl, your friend… with the hair? Yeah, her. Okay.” Hanging up the phone, Jack kicked back and placed his feet on his desk; he earned a little break.


John Hart, Jack’s partner, and one of the divorce lawyers for the firm, stared at the woman sitting across from him at his desk. He tried to keep his attention on what Donna, his client, was saying when his eyes caught sight of Martha walking by his office.


“Eight years of marriage all shot to hell.” Donna snarled; she was saddened by the unexpected end of her marriage, but she was angrier at her idiot of a soon-to-be-ex-husband, Adam, and his slut of a girlfriend, Mary.


Eyes locked on Martha’s ass, John still managed to inform Donna, “Had I known you eight years ago, I would have advised you to avoid the wedding.”


“But I do believe in the institution of marriage.” Donna spoke with firm conviction, and that one sentence was enough to jolt John out of his admiration of Martha.


“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Did you just say ‘institution’? No, no, the Wales Rugby team are an institution. Pastrami-on-rye is an institution. Mr Rogers is an institution. Marriage is a curse. It’s our punishment for the original sin. Do you understand the ugliness I see here every day? The sheer torment? The absolute hell? All because of people like you…” At Donna’s glare John quickly added, “And God bless your innocent heart, really, for believing in the ‘institution’ of marriage!”


“My parents were happily married.” Donna protested.


“No. They weren’t. You think they were. But they really weren’t.” John spoke passionately.


“They weren’t?” At John’s head shaken Donna bit her lower lip; she hated to admit it, but he might have a point. “Mom did drink… quite a lot,” she admitted.


“Of course she did. They all do.” He helped Donna to her feet and ushered her to the door with the promise of, “Don’t worry, we’ll go for the jugular.” They shook hands and John told her to make another appointment with Martha.


John caught sight of Jack and motioned for the man to come join him. Jack shrugged; with nothing better to do, he decide to join his friend. Entering John’s office Jack made himself comfortable on John’s couch.


“So what’s up?” Jack asked once he was settled.


Walking around to his desk, John opened the bottom drawer and pulled out a bottle of single malt scotch with a ribbon tied around it. “Happy anniversary!” John exclaimed as he handed it to Jack.


“Huh?” Jack asked even as he reached for the bottle.


“Fifteen years, my friend!” John continued on as Jack just blinked in confusion. “June 11, 1988? TARDIS high? Junior Prom night?” John was wondering if any of this was ringing a bell with his friend.


“Ohhh. Right. Yeah. The night we met.” Jack tried to sound thrilled but it came out weak.


John glared at his friend. “Could you any sound more underwhelmed?” he asked sarcastically.


“I am not underwhelmed,” Jack muttered back.


“You took Rose Tyler to the prom and wound up in the men’s room making out with a guy.” John felt compelled to remind his friend of the details.


Jack chuckled. “And you were in the next stall next to me making out with some guy who was not your date.” Jack frowned; “Who was your date, anyway?” he asked confusion entering his voice as he tried to remember who John had gone with.


John snorted as he remembered. “Lucia Moretti. Don’t you remember? Turns out she was cheating on me!” he reminded his friend. “That’s why I was in the next-door stall.”


“Ohhh. That’s right.” Jack finally remembered.


“I knew that night that you and I were cut from the same cloth. Best friends forever. I can’t believe you forgot.” John growled as he sat down in his chair, a sulk marring his good looks.


Now Jack felt bad; he hadn’t meant to forget. “A lot on my mind,” was the best lame excuse he could come up with.  


“You think it’s sappy, don’t you? The anniversary thing.” John was beginning to think so, too.


“I don’t think it’s sappy.” Jack denied. “I just…”


John crossed his arms and glared at his friend. “Because you forgot on our tenth, too. Remember? I got you that coffee-of-the-month club thing, remember that?” He reminded his friend, he was doing that a lot today.


“The coffee,” Jack nodded absently. “Yeah that was great.”


“You thought it was sappy.” John snarled.


Jack threw his hands up in the air. “I didn’t think it was sappy, for Christ’s sake! It was coffee!”


“Then how come you never get me anything for our anniversary?” John was close to whining and he stuck out his lower lip.


Jack raised an eyebrow at him and pointed out, “Okay… what you said right there? Now that was sappy.” He grinned at John, daring him to disagree.


John growled low in his throat. “Oh, fuck you!” he snarled at Jack before changing the subject. “Anyway, we’ve got a big three weeks ahead of us.”


A sad little sigh escaped Jack’s lips, “Yeah. End of wedding season. How many weddings are we going to crash?” he asked his friend and crash partner.


John took out his day planner and studied it for a moment. “I’ve got us down for eight.” He informed his friend.


Jack nodded approvingly. “Great!” He had one very important question to ask. “Any of them cash bars?”


“Two. But I got them covered,” John opened a desk drawer and pulled out two medals. “Purple hearts. We won’t have to buy a drink all night.”


A purely shark grin spread across Jack’s face as he purred, “Perfect.”


“Eight opportunities to get laid, my friend. Eight opportunities to score with women and men so aroused by the thought of marriage they mistakenly hook on to us as the men of their dreams.” A giant predatory grin spread across John’s face as he relaxed into his chair.


“Bingo. I’ll get my tux.” They both climbed to his feet and moved as one to the door, where John paused just long enough to grab the clothing bag hanging there before following Jack out of his office.


Temple Beth Shalom, Vestibule


Dressed in well-tailored tuxedos and knowing they look damn fine, Jack and John entered the Synagogue and introduced themselves to the ushers.


“Hi, Lou Epstein.” Jack lied with a smile on his face.


“Chuck Schwartz.” John followed Jack’s lead.


They put on their yarmulkes as they are shown to their seats.


Once the wedding was in full swing and the Rabbi was chanting, Jack glanced up at a pretty young woman sitting down the aisle from him. She choked up when she realised that Jack was staring at her and she smiled nervously. Taking that as his cue, Jack pulled out his handkerchief and dabbed a fake tear from his eye. The deep inhale of breath from the woman let Jack know that she was smitten; after all, only a real man cried at weddings. ‘Thank you, Mickey Smith.’ He thought fondly of the friend who had given him the small tube of hypo tears.


Like Jack, John was also checking out a possible conquest. He made eye contact with one woman, but when she returned the look, John just smiled and then turned away; she wasn’t the one. He looked to his left and caught the gaze of a handsome young man who briefly returned John’s frank look before giving him a half-smile and turning away. ‘He’s the one!’ John thought happily.


By the time the Rabbi had concluded the ceremony and the Groom had stepped on the glass, Jack and John had finalized their plans they joined with the rest of the crowd’s shout, “Mazel Tov!”


Soon the wedding party was in full swing and Jack and John were putting their plans of seduction into action.


Jack did a magic trick for the kids, while John danced with the bride’s mother; whatever he said to her made her blush like a schoolgirl.


Jack slapped some old guy on the back as Jack shared with him a disingenuous laugh.


John raises his glass to toast the happy couple; a few minutes later, Jack made his own toast to the happy couple.


John does a magic trick of the kids, while Jack danced with the bride’s mother.


Soon, John found himself dancing with the young man he’d made eye contact with earlier, and Jack danced with the woman who saw him cry.


John, in a secluded alcove, leans in to kiss the man he was dancing with, while in a secluded alcove of his own, Jack, leaned in to kiss his dance partner.



St. Mary’s Church and another wedding


John and Jack walked up the steps of the Catholic Church where once again introduce themselves to the ushers.


“Jimmy O’Shea.” Jack said with a grin.


“Tommy Fitzpatrick.” John introduced himself with same type of grin.


Vendata Narayan Hindu Temple


Once again Jack and John arrive and introduced themselves to the ushers.


“Henry Prajshnap.” That was Jack.


“Chuck Vindaloo.” Came John’s lie.


In one of the various receptions


John was dancing with a redhead named Amy Pond.


“Wow. Operation Desert Storm.” Amy breathed out, clearly impressed with him.


“Don’t really like to talk about it. We lost a lot of good men out there.” John laced his voice with sadness, and Amy let out a soothing sound as she melted into John’s chest.


Jack found himself dancing with young man named Ross Jenkins.


“Wow. Mt. Everest.” Ross was clearly impressed.


“Don’t really like to talk about it. We lost a lot of good men up there.” Jack let just the right amount of emotion choke his voice, and his effort was were rewarded when Ross melted silently into Jack’s chest.


In another receptions


With the traditional bindi on his forehead, John danced with Suzie, one of the bride’s friends; she had a bit harder shell to crack but John knew he would.


“Wow. The Peace Corps.” Suzie did sound very impressed by that.


John made sure he had the aura of a man who was hurting, a man who had lost much as he whispered in a choked-up breath, “Don’t really like to talk about it. We lost a lot of good men out there.”


Suzie said nothing as she melted into his chest, trying to offer him what little comfort she could.


In yet another reception


“Wow. The New York Yankees.” The brunette woman with an American accent breathed out as she danced with Jack.


For some reason which Jack couldn’t explain, his head wasn’t in the con and he spoke without thinking. “Don’t really like to talk about it. We lost a lot of good men out there.”


The brunette tilted her head as she asked, “Huh?”


Jack quickly recovered. “What? Oh! The fans could get unruly … and there were trades … it was ugly.”


Jewish Wedding Reception


An elderly couple sat quietly on the side-lines, watching Jack, who was dancing up a storm and having an all-around good time.


“Who is that?” The woman asked her husband motioning towards Jack.


A thoughtful look crossed her husband’s face. “Uh … him? I think that’s Ed’s kid. Tommy, the diabetic.” He nodded his head, sure he was right.


“Ohhh…” She figured her husband was probably right.


Italian Reception


A similar scene as before was once again happening as another elderly couple watched John dance and party it up.


The husband turned to his wife. “Who is that?” he asked, pointing to John.


“Uh… him? That’s Wilf and Estelle’s kid, Tom, the doctor.” His wife informed him.


Portuguese Reception


“That’s Johnny’s nephew, Banana, the veterinarian.” An elderly man stated in regards to Jack.


Irish Reception


“That’s the O’Shaughnessy kid, John, the astronaut.” An elderly woman declared after taking a look at John.


The Wedding Receptions


The wedding reception was beginning to die down as everyone began dancing and singing the perennial wedding song, ‘Shout’; Jack and John were singing along with the rest, having learned the song in every possible language.




John and Suzie were firmly attached to one another at the lips as they struggled to remove their clothing and make their way to Suzie’s bedroom.



Jack was thoroughly enjoying seducing Ross as the willing wedding guest led Jack back to his hotel room.



Sated and spent, John rolled off Suzie; she had turned out to be quite the wild cat once they’d fallen into her bed. ‘If I ever did a repeat, I would definitely look you up again, Suzie,’ John thought with a smile. ‘You’re one hell of a good ride!’



Jack watched Ross sleep, and despite the good time he had with the younger man, he can’t help but feel like something was missing.


Tags: fic: wedding crashers, pairing: jack/ianto, pairing: john/tosh, reel_torchwood
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