Fandoms: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Pairings/Characters: Jack/Ianto, Tommy/Tosh, past John/Jack, one-sided John/Ianto, Owen, Kathy, Gwen, Mickey/Jake, Harold Saxon, Rhys/Andy, Martha, James Harper, Ross, Rory, brief mention of the Doctor/Rose, Donna
Prompt: The Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl
Summary: A Pirate Captain seeking to reclaim what was stolen from him joins forces with a young Blacksmith seeking to rescue his kidnapped best friend. Together they find more than just the adventures of their journey.
Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood or Doctor Who.
Written for Reel_Torchwood Round 5
Onboard the TARDIS, Jack was finding it hard to focus on sailing the ship when all he could see was the sun gleaming down on Ianto. The gorgeous young Welshman had removed his shirt and was sharpening his sword while telling Jack a little bit about his past. Jack's eyes were glued to the sight of Ianto's muscles, slick with sweat, moving gracefully beneath his pale Welsh skin.
“When I was a lad living in New England, my mother raised me by herself. After she died, I came out here, looking for my father.” Ianto could feel the hot burn of tears prickling at his eyes and he didn’t dare look up at Jack. Instead, he focused on the long, steady strokes of his sharpening stone across the edge of his blade.
Hearing the pain and loneliness in Ianto’s voice awoke something deep within Jack and his heart ached with the knowledge that his precious Rose had departed from this world. But Jack knew that he couldn’t let Ianto see his pain; it would raise too many questions that he wasn’t ready to answer, not just yet. 'Some day I'll tell Ianto about how wonderful Rose Tyler was. She was brilliant, so brave and so filled with love.' Summoning every bit of nonchalance he could, Jack gazed out over Ianto’s shoulder as he said, “Is that so?”
Jack’s act didn’t fool Ianto for an instant, and he finally decided that it was the right time to bring his suspicions to light. “My father, John Smith. At the jail, it was only after you learned my name that you agreed to help. Since that’s what I wanted, I didn’t press the matter. But I’m not a simpleton, Jack. You knew my father.”
Jack tried, unsuccessfully, not to wince when he heard the hurt tone in Ianto’s voice. It was clear that his beautiful boy knew – had always known – that Jack was using him for his own selfish gain. “I knew ‘im and your mother. I was probably one of the few who knew him as John Smith. Everyone else just called him the Doctor.” Jack decided it couldn’t hurt to let Ianto in on the truth; it was very important to him and to any possible future they might have together that his boy trust him.
“The Doctor?” Ianto asked guardedly; he really wasn’t sure if he liked where this was going.
Jack knew instinctively that Ianto was not going to react well to what he was about to tell him and he smiled reassuringly. “Good man. Good pirate. I swear you look just like him.”
Ianto couldn’t, no he wouldn’t believe what Jack was telling him. There was simply no way that his father was a pirate, his mother would have told him that. “It’s not true! He was a merchant sailor. A good, respectable man who obeyed the law.”
Jack was stunned by Ianto’s words. ‘Oh, Rose, what did you tell this boy? You loved the fact that John was a pirate! Why did you hide this from your son?’ It was Jack’s anger at Rose’s lie that made him bite back at Ianto. “He was a bloody pirate, a scallywag!” Jack snarled savagely, leaving his place and moving towards Ianto. For some reason, it was very important to Jack that Ianto understand and appreciate exactly who and what his father was.
Ianto stubbornly shook his head. “My father was not a pirate.” He moved for his sword but Jack beat him to it and before Ianto realised what was going on, Jack was using his hard body to pin him against the railing. Shivers racked Ianto’s body as the full impact of Jack’s scent bombarded his senses; it intensified the delicious pressure of Jack’s groin against his. It took all of his self-control not to writhe against his captor, to seek a little relief from the delicious feeling of Jack's own growing hardness.
Jack glanced at the sword lying at their feet.“You don’t want to do that. It’s not worth you getting beat again.” Jack’s lust-darkened eyes bored into Ianto’s as he fought the urge to kiss Ianto’s oh-so-tempting mouth.
“You didn’t beat me! You ignored the rules of engagement. In a fair fight, I’d have killed you!” Ianto snapped out; he was so outraged by Jack’s claim of victory that he momentarily forgot how good Jack's body felt.
A lazy grin overcame Jack’s face. “Then that’s not much incentive for me to fight fair, then, is it?” Jack’s voice dropped down an octave into a husky tone that was designed to seduce. The fire and passion burning beneath Ianto’s surface was something Jack so desperately wanted to taste and from the way Ianto’s heart was pounding in his chest it was clear that Ianto wanted the same thing.
‘I’m sorry, Ianto,’ Jack thought regretfully as he released Ianto and quickly moved one of the sails so that the yardarm caught Ianto full in the chest and swung him out over the sea. Jack tried not to let the hurt and fear on Ianto’s face sway him, but it was damn hard.
“Now, as long you’re just hanging there, pay attention. The only rules that really matter are these: what a man can do and what a man can’t do. For instance, you can accept that your father was a pirate and a good man or you can’t. But pirate is in your blood, boy, so you’ll have to square with that someday.” He saw the pain in Ianto’s eyes intensify at his words and his conscience pricked at him, but he shook it off.
“Now, me, for example, I can let you drown but I can’t bring this ship into Tortuga all by me onesy, savvy? So…” Of course, there was no way that Jack would ever let Ianto drown but his young Welshman didn’t know that. He hung out over the waves, desperately clinging to the yardarm with all his might and praying for the moment when he’d feel the solid deck beneath his feet again.
Jack swung Ianto back on board and before he could stop himself he pulled Ianto into his arms and claimed his kissable mouth in a kiss of pure and absolute possession. Before Ianto could respond Jack broke the kiss, but he did not loosen his possessive grip on Ianto. He'd never found any man, woman or alien who felt so perfect in his arms and he never wanted to let go.
However, common sense told him to finish what he had been saying before temptation got the best of him. He looked deeply into Ianto's eyes, peering into his soul. “Can you sail under the command of a pirate or can you not?”
Ianto would admit that his brain had short-circuited moment Jack’s lips had touched his in that soul-searing kiss, and his skin was burning from the possessive hold the pirate had on his waist. “Tor… Tortuga?” Ianto’s throat was dry and he had to force the word past his lips.
“Tortuga,” Jack agreed. ‘I’m going to have to keep my eye on Ianto once we reach land; there's no way any I’m letting anyone sink their claws into my Ianto.’ He leaned in so close to Ianto that their lips almost met and Ianto was so distracted by the hope that Jack was going to kiss him again that he missed the single heartfelt word that Jack breathed against his lips:
True to his word, from the moment they arrived on Tortuga Jack made sure to keep Ianto firmly by his side; a possessive aura radiated off him, clearing declaring Ianto to be ‘mine’. As they strolled into town, Ianto's eyes never stopped moving. He'd never been away from Boeshane before and he was fascinated by the exotic beauty of Tortuga. He listened with rapt attention while Jack regaled him with tales of previous visits to the island.
“More importantly, it is indeed a sad life that has never breathed deep this sweet, proliferous bouquet that is Tortuga, savvy? What do you think?” Jack was curious as to what Ianto thought of the pirate’s second home. It was surprisingly very important to him that Ianto liked being there, and in a roundabout way, that meant being with him.
“It’ll linger,” Ianto admitted with a raised eyebrow; he was still not sure what to make of Jack’s claim on him. It hadn't escaped Ianto's notice that the moment any man or woman so much as looked at him for more than a second, Jack would pull him a little closer and glare at the offending party. In a way, he found it a little endearing; no one had ever made him feel so special or so desired before.
A grin graced Jack’s face; from Ianto’s response he knew he didn’t have to worry about Ianto going out and taking someone up on their offer. “I’ll tell you, mate, if every town in the world were like this one, no man would ever feel unwanted.”
Jack spotted a familiar female heading towards him and cringed slightly. He put on a big smile as she stepped up to them “Martha!” The beautiful dark-skinned woman said nothing but rather she slapped Jack across the face as hard as she could before walking away without ever saying a word. “Not sure I deserved that,” Jack pouted under his breath.
Only a few minutes later Jack fought the urge to run and hide when he spotted another angry woman heading towards him. The desired to hide behind Ianto was almost overpowering, but he forced himself to stand his ground. “Donna!” He tried to sound cheerful.
“Who was she?! And who’s he?!” Donna demanded in a loud, shrill voice even before she’d reached the men and when she did arrive, she stopped and stood there toe-to-toe with them, glaring daggers at Jack and Ianto.
“Wha…?” That as all Jack managed to get out before Donna slapped him so hard that even Ianto winced at the blow. “I may have deserved that,” Jack admitted in a wry voice. He rubbed at the bright red handprint forming on his cheek. 'Ianto should kiss it and make it all better,' he pouted childishly.
After Donna had flounced away in a flurry of ruffled skirts and muttered curses, Jack and Ianto continued through town looking for Jack’s old mates. It was surprisingly easy to find Owen; the first person Jack asked pointed to the town's communal pigpen. Ianto was sure the local was having them on, but sure enough, sleeping in the much and filth, they found the first of Jack's dubious friends. Ianto tried desperately not to breathe in the smell while Jack just rolled his eyes at them both before grabbing a bucket of water and tossing it onto Owen.
“Curse you for breathing, you slack-jawed idiot!” Owen Harper yowled with anger and scrambled to his feet sputtering and coughing like a madman. "Don't you know a man could die if ever swallowed water?"
Jack laughed with delight as he watched his old mate; Owen was quite a sight with his feet squelching in the muck as he desperately wiped water from his face.
“Mother’s love! Jack!” Owen stopped cursing once he laid eyes on the man who’d just tried to drown him. “You should know better than to wake a man when he’s sleeping. It’s bad luck.” Owen grouched sheepishly.
Jack grinned charmingly. “Ah, fortunately I know how to counter it. The man who did the waking buys the man who was sleeping a drink. The man who was sleeping drinks it while listening to a proposition from the man who did the waking.”
Jack knew full well that there was no way Owen was going to turn down a free drink and he was right. “Aye, that’ll about do it,” Owen agreed and swung his leg over the fence. Ianto chose that moment to throw his own bucket of water on him.
“Blast! I’m already awake!” Owen sputtered angrily; he clenched his fists, ready for a fight.
“That was for the smell,” Ianto calmly informed him and then he and Jack exchanged identical and telling looks.
The trio entered a local tavern and even though he hated to let Ianto out of his sight, Jack couldn’t let him overhear his conversation with Owen. “Keep a sharp eye,” he instructed Ianto before he and Owen headed to the back of the common room and a quiet table against the wall.
“Now, what’s the nature of this venture of yours?” Owen asked after gulping down half of his drink.
“I’m going after the Black Myfanwy.” Jack’s voice was as calm and nonchalant as if he’d just informed Owen he hadn’t bathed that day.
Owen choked on his drink and Jack grinned as he slapped the man on the back. “Are ye out of yer bloody mind?!” Owen gasped in disbelief.
“I know where it’s going to be, and I’m going to take it.” Jack issued his declaration with pure confidence.
Managing to clear his airway, Owen hoped he could reason with Jack; he didn’t want to see his old friend die needlessly. “Jack, it’s a fool’s errand. Why, you know better than me the tales of the Black Myfanwy.”
“That’s why I know what Hart is up to. All I need is a crew.” Jack prayed silently, hoping against hope that he would not have to let Owen know who Ianto really was and how he could be used to achieve his goal.
“From what I hear tell of Captain Hart, he’s not a man to suffer fools, nor strike a bargain with one.” Owen stated as he took another swallow of his drink.
“Well, then I’d say it’s a very good thing I’m not a fool then, eh?” Jack’s infamous ego was beginning to show.
“Prove me wrong,” Owen challenged Jack. “What makes ye think Hart will give up his ship to you?” He wanted proof that Jack could deliver on his promise before he’d even think about sticking his own precious neck out.
Jack cast a quick glance at Ianto, judging the distance between Ianto and their table and praying that his young man didn’t overhear him. ‘I’m sorry, Ianto, for using you like this. And I swear on my soul that I will do everything in my power to keep you safe,’ Jack vowed silently to himself. “Let’s just say it’s a matter of leverage, eh?” He nodded at Ianto.
Owen raised an eyebrow quizzically as he studied the young man over the rim of his mug; he didn't look like much at first glance. 'Jack must see something in the kid I don't.' He’d been around Jack long enough to know that he’d never seen Jack act the way he was around Ianto. “The kid?”
Jack leaned forward and whispered, “That is the child of Doctor John Smith. His only child, savvy?” In that very moment, Jack hated himself more than he ever had in his entire life. ‘Please forgive me, Ianto.’
Owen’s eyes grew wide; he no longer had any doubt that Jack truly had something Hart wanted and probably wanted desperately. He cast another appraising glance in Ianto’s direction. “Is he, now? Leverage, says you? I think I feel a change in the wind, says I. I’ll find us a crew. There’s bound to be some sailors on this rock crazy as you.”
“One can only hope. Take what you can...” Jack raised his glass and toasted Owen.
“... Give nothing back,” Owen finished off the quote and then they finish off their drinks.
Sagging bonelessly against the bar post, Ianto forced back a wave of intense pain. He hadn’t intended to listen in on Jack’s conversation, but he’d overheard every word and now he knew the truth. Jack didn’t care a whit for him; he was only using him. He was nothing more than a love-sick pawn in Jack’s sinister game and knowing that hurt Ianto’s heart more than he thought possible.
Onboard the Black Myfanwy, Tosh was imprisoned below decks and she paced the length of the small cabin anxiously. 'How could I be so stupid as to trust a pirate!?' she berated herself for the tenth time. Without warning, the door flew open and Rhys entered holding a dress of deep purple satin in his arms. Even from a distance, Toshiko could see that it was an extremely expensive garment and despite her circumstances, her fingers itched to feel the fabric.
“You’ll be dinin’ with the captain. And he requests you wear this,” Rhys officially informed her as he held the dress out to her.
Ignoring the pro-offered gown was difficult but Tosh persevered. “Well, you may inform your captain that I am disinclined to acquiesce to his request.” Tosh deliberately used the condescending tone of her voice to inform him that, clearly, he was extremely beneath her.
A leer spread across Rhys’ lips. “He said you’d say that. He also said if that be the case, you’ll be dinin’ with the crew,” the pirate watched as Tosh shrugged nonchalantly and then he winked at her “… and you’ll be naked.”
Tosh couldn’t prevent the gasp that escaped her lips and she quickly snatched the dress out of Rhys’ hands. ‘That bastard!’ she fumed, ‘of course he knew I would take the lesser of two evils!' She laid the dress on the chair and began to prepare for her dinner with the captain.
She’d gotten her sash undone and was just about to remove her dressing gown when she was startled by a sound behind her. Spinning around Tosh was horrified to see that Rhys was still standing in the doorway, his arms folded across his chest and a lecherous grin on his face. She didn’t need to look down to know that the pirate was obviously becoming aroused by watching her.
Gathering her courage, Tosh raised her chin and glared at him haughtily. “I will be sure to inform your captain of your interest in my dressing habits. He’ll most likely wish to reward you for your diligence.” She bit back a smile when she saw the man’s face turn white as a sheet and sweat pop out on his brow.
“NO!” Rhys raised his hands in surrender as he back-pedaled through the door so fast he bounced off the wall behind him. “Uh… no!” Tosh giggled as she listened to him running down the hall and up the stairs.
Not long after she finished dressing, Tosh found herself above decks and in the Captain’s rather spacious cabin, where a huge feast had been laid out for her. Despite her overwhelming hunger, Tosh retained her breeding and manners and picked at her food daintily.
John Hart watched her for a few minutes, admiring her lady-like behaviour. More than that however, he simply could not take his eyes off her; in his eyes, Toshiko Sato-Saxon was absolutely beautiful. Her skin glowed in the candlelight of his cabin and the deep wine hue of her dress set off her skin to perfection. “There’s no need to stand on ceremony, nor any call to impress anyone. You must be hungry,” Hart encouraged her by pushing the largest platter closer to her plate.
Tosh hadn’t eaten since dinner the night before, and she was really hungry. Accepting his permission, she grabbed the leg from the turkey and bit down on it with relish, tearing off a chunk and chewing it with relish. She might be associating with pirates, but one of them was a better cook than she had a home. She tried not to giggle at the idea of a pirate chef working the kitchen of the governor's mansion; she knew her father would have a stroke right on the spot if that ever happened.
After watching Tosh enjoy her food for a few minutes, the captain filled a large gold goblet and passed it to her. “Try the wine,” John told her and Tosh accepted the offered cup and took a long gulp. She had to admit that it rivalled anything her step-father had ever poured. The Governor's mansion boasted a wine cellar stocked with some of the best and rarest wines and liquors to be found on the seven seas but there was nothing on his racks that could touch what Tosh was enjoying at a pirate's table.
“And the apples?” John’s hand hovered over the fruit bowl as he decided which one to select, his fingers touching and caressing each one before he made a decision. After polishing it on his waistcoat, he offered it to her with a flourish, “One of these next.”
The moment Tosh laid eyes on the bright red apple, she froze with fear and a deep sense of dread hit her. “It’s poisoned,” she whispered her eyes wide with pure fear.
Amusement burbled up within Hart and he chuckled briefly. “There would be no sense to be killing ye, Miss Jones,” John lazily informed her with a bright twinkle in his eyes.
“Then release me!” Tosh cried out; she could not understand why she was still here. “You have your trinket; I’m of no further value to you.” ‘I was such a fool to have ever come on board this ship!’
John reached two fingers into his waistcoat pocket, pulled out the medallion and looked first at it and then at Tosh. With a sudden flash of understanding dawning in his eyes, John barked out a laugh “You don’t know what this is, do ye?”
Barely able to resist rolling her eyes at the idiocy of the man, Tosh stated sneeringly, “It’s a pirate medallion,” like it was hands-down the most obvious thing in the world.
A low chuckle escaped John’s lips; as he leaned forward in his chair he held the medallion by its chain and let it twist slowly in the candlelight. The effect was breath-taking and Tosh found herself mesmerised by the sight. “This is Aztec gold,” he told her reverently. “One of eight hundred and eighty-two identical pieces that were delivered in a stone chest to the Master himself. It was blood money paid to stem the slaughter his armies wreaked upon them.
“But the greed of the Master was insatiable so the heathen gods placed upon the gold a terrible curse. ‘Any mortal that remove but a single piece from the stone chest shall be punished for eternity’,” he quoted, wondering what her reaction to his explanation was going to be.
Tosh snorted in derision and crossed her arms over her chest. “I hardly believe in ghost stories anymore, Captain Hart.”
“Aye!” John agreed enthusiastically. “That’s exactly what I thought when we were first told the tale! Buried on the Island of the Dead what cannot be found except for those who know where it is.” John saw the look of bemused condescension on Tosh’s face but he persevered with his story telling. “Find it, we did. There be the chest. Inside be the gold. And we took ‘em all. We spent ‘em and traded ‘em and frittered ‘em away on drink and food and pleasurable company.”
‘Why am I not surprised,’ Tosh thought as she toyed with her wine glass.
“The more we gave ‘em away, the more we came to realize the drink would not satisfy, the food turned to ash in our mouths, and all the pleasurable company in the world could not slake our lust.” John leaned toward Tosh as if to emphasise his earnestness.
“We are cursed men, Miss Jones. Compelled by greed we were, but now we are consumed by it.” John’s voice was heavy with sorrow, pain and the suffering he and his men had gone through.
While Tosh had to admit she did feel some small measure of sympathy for Hart and his men, she was having a hard time believing such a ridiculous story. Seeing that John had collapsed back in his chair and appeared to be lost in his thoughts, Tosh took advantage of the time to look around the cabin. Despite the fact that John Hart was a pirate, as captain of the Black Myfanwy he lived a luxurious lifestyle compared to the members of his crew.
The cabin was located at the stern of the ship, which allowed for a bank of shuttered windows that were currently open to the soft evening breeze. The room was awash with candlelight and it glittered off a myriad of gold objects, including a large chest of coins and jewels in one corner. Unbidden, Tosh’s eyes strayed to the far wall where the captain’s oversized bed was piled high with soft pillows and silken duvets. It was obvious that the Myfanwy was a very successful pirate ship and that her captain kept the best of her spoils for himself.
As she turned her attention back to the table, Tosh spotted a butter knife lying quite close to her hand. She glanced at John but he was still lost in introspection; she very carefully slid her hand over the handle and hid it in her sleeve of her dress.
Hart returned to the present and held the medallion up in front of her. “There is one way we can end our curse. All the scattered pieces of the Aztec gold must be restored and the blood repaid. Thanks to ye, we have the final piece.” John grinned at Tosh with a strange maniacal expression in his eyes.
The feral look on John’s face frightened Tosh and once again a feeling of dread filled her soul. “And the blood to be repaid?” she asked softly.
“That’s why there’s no sense to be killing ye… yet.” John grinned at Tosh and held out the apple again. “Apple? Arr!” John jerked back in his chair when Tosh stabbed him with her stolen knife, but to Tosh’s growing horror John merely pulled it out and widened his grin. “I’m curious, after killing me what was it you were planning on doing next?” John asked strictly for his own pure amusement.
His mocking laughter chased after Tosh as she ran out of his cabin and out onto the main deck. She stumbled to a startled halt and a horrified shriek escaped her lips when she saw that shafts of the moonlight were shining down on the members of the crew. The beautiful moonbeams that she was so used to seeing shining on her rose beds were now showing the men as nothing but decaying skeletons.
Unable to believe what she was seeing, Tosh tried to back away, to escape the nightmare in front of her, but suddenly John was standing next to her, holding her arms in his tight grasp. "No! Please, let me go!" her voice was nothing more than a tiny whimper.
“Look!” John crooned into her ear. “Look at us, Miss Jones. The purity of the moonlight shows us for what we really are. We are not among the living and so we cannot die, but neither are we dead. For too long I’ve been parched with thirst and unable to quench it. Too long I’ve been starving to death and haven’t died. I feel nothing, not the wind on my face nor the spray of the sea, nor the warmth of a woman or man’s flesh.”
John released his hold on Tosh's arm and stepped forward into the moonlight where Tosh was able to see him for the skeleton he was. “You best start believing in ghost stories, Miss Jones. You’re in one!”
John grabbed a bottle of wine from one of his crew and took a long drink leaving Tosh to watch in sickening horror as the liquid poured out over his ribs and onto the deck. As John and his crew shook with raucous laughter, Tosh rushed back into the safety of the captain's cabin. Slamming the door shut behind her, she shot the deadbolt home and then fell helplessly against the heavy wooden door.
Mind-numbing fear tightened its grip on her and she gasped desperately for breath as her legs gave out and she sank to the floor in a trembling heap. 'What are those ghastly skeletal creatures going to do to me once they learn I'm not the one they're seeking!' Suddenly, a more terrifying thought occurred to Tosh and she gasped; ‘what will they do to Ianto once they learn the truth about him?'
“What are ye looking at? Back to work!” John shouted orders to his men once he was sure Tosh was gone; he did so enjoy torturing normal folks but there was work to be done.
“You heard the Captain! Back to work,” Rex ordered and as the moon hid her face behind a passing cloud, the crew quickly returned to their tasks.