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Fic: Propositioned PG-13 (Supernatural/Torchwood crossover)
Title: Propositioned
Rating: PG-13. Gen...mostly. This is Captain Jack we're talking about here.
Pairing/Characters: Captain Jack Harkness, Sam & Dean, a few mentions of Ianto
Notes: This is a very belated birthday present for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wirrrn. Thanks go to mad_server for the awesomely fast beta, and lady_razzle for help with the title.
Disclaimers: Oh, the things I would do if they were mine...
Summary: Sometime in the near to not-so-distant future, Jack's looking to recruit two new members to the Torchwood team, but is he ready for the brothers Winchester?
The first thing Jack noticed when he entered the bar was how wonderfully blue collar it was. The smell of watery beer and rotgut whiskey mingled with the remnants of decades of smokers and the unwashed tang of humans who’ve decided they don’t give a damn. There was a honest to God jukebox against the far wall belting out CCR, the sound too scratchy to be anything but vinyl.
The second thing Jack noticed was the ridiculously gorgeous guy sitting in the last booth on the right. He had his back to the wall, a half empty pilsner in front of him, and a defensive look on his perfectly sculpted face. Jack thought he was adorable.
He was arguing with the person seated across from him, hidden by the high back of the wooden booth. Ten to one it was the younger brother, all floppy hair and cat eyes. And muscle. Can't forget the muscle. Over 200 pounds packed onto a six and a half foot frame.
Jack felt a tiny frisson run up his spine, followed by the briefest whisper of guilt brushing across his mind. Apparently Ianto's plans for domestication were working, dammit.
Resigned to the fact that he wouldn't be getting off until he made a trans-Atlantic phone call later that night, Jack still put in an extra bit of swagger as he made his way to his targets. He liberated a chair from a nearby table and plopped himself at the end of the brothers' booth.
"Hey ya, fellas." Jack grinned amicably.
"Uh, can we help you?" The older one with the spiky hair, and green green eyes pursed his perfectly plush mouth.
Jack shifted a bit in his seat. He wasn't sure how much foreplay he could take so he decided to dive right in the deep end. "You know, when I first saw the dossier on you two, and it said you were brothers, I have to admit, I was kinda hoping for twins, but-" he glanced appreciatively at the younger one and couldn't help but lick his lips at the sight of all that corded muscle - "diversity's good too."
The two brothers stiffened, and not in the good way, hands automatically reaching for what Jack was sure were a multitude of interesting weapons secreted on their persons.
"Easy, boys." Jack placed both his hands palm down on
the slightly sticky table. "My eyes don't turn any other color than this fetching shade of blue. I'm not here to take you in, either. In fact, I'm completely unarmed."
"Yeah, you're unarmed," Green-eyes sneered. "And what about the partners you've got waiting outside?"
"No partners. No SWAT team. No good squad. No backup... at least not on this continent." Jack grinned winningly. "Just me, all by my lonesome."
"Right." Floppy-hair, whom Jack had erroneously pegged as slightly less hardened than his older brother, snorted. "We're just supposed to believe you came in here alone, knowing who we are?"
"I'd say that's your best option at the moment." Jack
shrugged. "Sure, you could overreact, try to fight your way out of a perfectly harmless situation, but then you wouldn't hear what I have to say."
Jack watched an entire conversation pass between the two younger men comprised exclusively of lip twitches and quirks of eyebrows.
"Fine," Green-eyes said finally. He gave Jack a brittle smile. "Let's hear it."
Jack grinned. "Wonderful! First off, introductions." He gestured towards Green-eyes. "Dean and-" Jack gave Floppy-hair a wink "-Sam Winchester. Born yadda-yadda in one of those depressingly flat middle states. Father was a Marine turned hunter, mother was a sacrifice to a now dead
demon, and-" Jack stopped abruptly as he felt something sharp and cold press against the inside of his thigh. "Femoral artery." He flicked his eyes towards Dean. "That'd be messy."
Dean's eyes were cold and hard, and Jack could easily
see where this beautiful man had gotten such an ugly
reputation.
Sam leaned across the table, capturing Jack's attention. "Keep your mouth shut about things you don't understand or you'll find out just how messy."
Jack felt his eyebrows raise. He was starting to feel
like he had gotten into a ring with a couple of Wildcats.
(For just a moment Jack's treacherous brain provided him with a full color, surround sound clip of the two Winchesters rubbing against him and purring their little tamed hearts out. And then Ianto showed up with a broom and a spray bottle-)
Jack blinked a few times and cleared his throat. "Okay, parents are off limits. That's understandable. Completely understandable." He leered at Dean. "You gonna put your long, hard weapon away, sweetheart, or are you gonna find someplace to stick it?"
Dean's mouth dropped, then the supposed hardened mass
murderer blushed.
Jack leaned towards him, freer with his movements now
that the blade had disappeared. "You," he said delightedly, "have freckles!"
"Do not!" Dean looked agast.
"I love freckles."
"Shut up."
"Are they all over?" Jack asked. "Do they go all the way down? Mmmm, there is nothing like playing connect the dots on somebody's-"
"So!" Sam said sharply. He glared at his red-faced brother, then turned that keen gaze to Jack. "You know who we are. How about you continue with those introductions. Who are you?"
"Captain Jack Harkness." Jack tipped an imaginary hat.
"Who do you work for, Captain?" Sam's eyes glittered
dangerously. "And how do you know about... about us."
"You mean how do I know who you two really are, what it is you two really do?" Jack smiled. "It's my job. I'm not part of the F.B.I. or C.I.A. or MI6 or any other number of mind numbing acronyms you can think of. The organization I'm with is beyond that, above it. We tend to look at the big picture."
"Which is?" a now composed Dean asked.
"The survival of the human race."
That little tidbit of information was unexpected, and Jack watched another silent back and forth between the two younger men.
"Say we believe you," Sam said. "What do you want with us?"
"What every leader wants. Competent people working under him. And I unfortunately mean that in a completely professional capacity."
"You want us to work for you?" Dean's lips were doing
that pursing thing again. "Doing what?"
"The same thing you're doing now. With some changes, of course. For one thing you'd have to relocate."
"To where?" Dean asked.
"Wales."
Dean blanched. "You mean the Wales that's next to England. The one that's across a freakin' ocean. Uh, no. Don't think so. Definitely not."
Jack reached over and gently patted Dean's arm. "I'll
stuff you full of Valium before your flight, and personally oversee shipment of that beautiful automobile of yours. Happy?"
"Oh." Dean fidgeted a bit. "Maybe."
But, while Dean was slightly mollified by Jack's assurances, Sam was quite obviously not. He tapped his finger on the table to gain his brother's and Jack's attention. "I'll ask again," he said. "Why us?"
"You're kidding, right." Jack laughed. "I know what you've done. Both of you. You two are big, damn heroes." Jack took in the embarrassed flushes. "And modest to boot. Trust me, you'd both be a welcome addition to my team. Look, all I'm asking is that you listen. Listen to what I have to say, and see if you don't want to join up."
"And if we say no?" Sam asked.
"Then you two are off on your merry way. And just to show some professional courtesy, I'll make sure you never have to worry about waiting SWAT teams again. I'll get you out of the F.B.I. database, completely clear your records."
"Bullshit," Dean scoffed.
"You can't do that," Sam said.
Jack winked at him. "I can do lots of things."
Dean crossed his arms over his chest and gave Jack a hard stare. "So, you're gonna make us all nicey-nice with the Feds, and we don't even have to drink your Kool-aid if we don't want to?"
"I don't quite believe it either." Jack ruefully shook his head. "Trust me, beautiful, if I wasn't in a relationship with a man who's not only very dangerous, but also extremely organized, I'd be jockeying for more, but..." Jack shrugged and raised his hands in a helpless gesture. "Commitment. What can you do?"
"Organized?" Dean raised an eyebrow.
"He alphabetizes all our weapons."
Sam got a speculative look on his face. "That would make it easier to-"
"No," Dean said, cutting him off.
"But-"
"No."
"I-"
"Sam," Dean said warningly.
"Dean," Sam said petulantly.
"This is fun!" Jack announced, clapping his hands together. "But since I have a flight in fourteen hours I'm gonna have to nix the brotherly banter for the moment. We have things to discuss, gentlemen."
"Fine," Dean said. "We're listening. Tell us all about..."
"Torchwood." Jack smiled. "We're called Torchwood."
*****
end
Rating: PG-13. Gen...mostly. This is Captain Jack we're talking about here.
Pairing/Characters: Captain Jack Harkness, Sam & Dean, a few mentions of Ianto
Notes: This is a very belated birthday present for
wirrrn. Thanks go to mad_server for the awesomely fast beta, and lady_razzle for help with the title. Disclaimers: Oh, the things I would do if they were mine...
Summary: Sometime in the near to not-so-distant future, Jack's looking to recruit two new members to the Torchwood team, but is he ready for the brothers Winchester?
The first thing Jack noticed when he entered the bar was how wonderfully blue collar it was. The smell of watery beer and rotgut whiskey mingled with the remnants of decades of smokers and the unwashed tang of humans who’ve decided they don’t give a damn. There was a honest to God jukebox against the far wall belting out CCR, the sound too scratchy to be anything but vinyl.
The second thing Jack noticed was the ridiculously gorgeous guy sitting in the last booth on the right. He had his back to the wall, a half empty pilsner in front of him, and a defensive look on his perfectly sculpted face. Jack thought he was adorable.
He was arguing with the person seated across from him, hidden by the high back of the wooden booth. Ten to one it was the younger brother, all floppy hair and cat eyes. And muscle. Can't forget the muscle. Over 200 pounds packed onto a six and a half foot frame.
Jack felt a tiny frisson run up his spine, followed by the briefest whisper of guilt brushing across his mind. Apparently Ianto's plans for domestication were working, dammit.
Resigned to the fact that he wouldn't be getting off until he made a trans-Atlantic phone call later that night, Jack still put in an extra bit of swagger as he made his way to his targets. He liberated a chair from a nearby table and plopped himself at the end of the brothers' booth.
"Hey ya, fellas." Jack grinned amicably.
"Uh, can we help you?" The older one with the spiky hair, and green green eyes pursed his perfectly plush mouth.
Jack shifted a bit in his seat. He wasn't sure how much foreplay he could take so he decided to dive right in the deep end. "You know, when I first saw the dossier on you two, and it said you were brothers, I have to admit, I was kinda hoping for twins, but-" he glanced appreciatively at the younger one and couldn't help but lick his lips at the sight of all that corded muscle - "diversity's good too."
The two brothers stiffened, and not in the good way, hands automatically reaching for what Jack was sure were a multitude of interesting weapons secreted on their persons.
"Easy, boys." Jack placed both his hands palm down on
the slightly sticky table. "My eyes don't turn any other color than this fetching shade of blue. I'm not here to take you in, either. In fact, I'm completely unarmed."
"Yeah, you're unarmed," Green-eyes sneered. "And what about the partners you've got waiting outside?"
"No partners. No SWAT team. No good squad. No backup... at least not on this continent." Jack grinned winningly. "Just me, all by my lonesome."
"Right." Floppy-hair, whom Jack had erroneously pegged as slightly less hardened than his older brother, snorted. "We're just supposed to believe you came in here alone, knowing who we are?"
"I'd say that's your best option at the moment." Jack
shrugged. "Sure, you could overreact, try to fight your way out of a perfectly harmless situation, but then you wouldn't hear what I have to say."
Jack watched an entire conversation pass between the two younger men comprised exclusively of lip twitches and quirks of eyebrows.
"Fine," Green-eyes said finally. He gave Jack a brittle smile. "Let's hear it."
Jack grinned. "Wonderful! First off, introductions." He gestured towards Green-eyes. "Dean and-" Jack gave Floppy-hair a wink "-Sam Winchester. Born yadda-yadda in one of those depressingly flat middle states. Father was a Marine turned hunter, mother was a sacrifice to a now dead
demon, and-" Jack stopped abruptly as he felt something sharp and cold press against the inside of his thigh. "Femoral artery." He flicked his eyes towards Dean. "That'd be messy."
Dean's eyes were cold and hard, and Jack could easily
see where this beautiful man had gotten such an ugly
reputation.
Sam leaned across the table, capturing Jack's attention. "Keep your mouth shut about things you don't understand or you'll find out just how messy."
Jack felt his eyebrows raise. He was starting to feel
like he had gotten into a ring with a couple of Wildcats.
(For just a moment Jack's treacherous brain provided him with a full color, surround sound clip of the two Winchesters rubbing against him and purring their little tamed hearts out. And then Ianto showed up with a broom and a spray bottle-)
Jack blinked a few times and cleared his throat. "Okay, parents are off limits. That's understandable. Completely understandable." He leered at Dean. "You gonna put your long, hard weapon away, sweetheart, or are you gonna find someplace to stick it?"
Dean's mouth dropped, then the supposed hardened mass
murderer blushed.
Jack leaned towards him, freer with his movements now
that the blade had disappeared. "You," he said delightedly, "have freckles!"
"Do not!" Dean looked agast.
"I love freckles."
"Shut up."
"Are they all over?" Jack asked. "Do they go all the way down? Mmmm, there is nothing like playing connect the dots on somebody's-"
"So!" Sam said sharply. He glared at his red-faced brother, then turned that keen gaze to Jack. "You know who we are. How about you continue with those introductions. Who are you?"
"Captain Jack Harkness." Jack tipped an imaginary hat.
"Who do you work for, Captain?" Sam's eyes glittered
dangerously. "And how do you know about... about us."
"You mean how do I know who you two really are, what it is you two really do?" Jack smiled. "It's my job. I'm not part of the F.B.I. or C.I.A. or MI6 or any other number of mind numbing acronyms you can think of. The organization I'm with is beyond that, above it. We tend to look at the big picture."
"Which is?" a now composed Dean asked.
"The survival of the human race."
That little tidbit of information was unexpected, and Jack watched another silent back and forth between the two younger men.
"Say we believe you," Sam said. "What do you want with us?"
"What every leader wants. Competent people working under him. And I unfortunately mean that in a completely professional capacity."
"You want us to work for you?" Dean's lips were doing
that pursing thing again. "Doing what?"
"The same thing you're doing now. With some changes, of course. For one thing you'd have to relocate."
"To where?" Dean asked.
"Wales."
Dean blanched. "You mean the Wales that's next to England. The one that's across a freakin' ocean. Uh, no. Don't think so. Definitely not."
Jack reached over and gently patted Dean's arm. "I'll
stuff you full of Valium before your flight, and personally oversee shipment of that beautiful automobile of yours. Happy?"
"Oh." Dean fidgeted a bit. "Maybe."
But, while Dean was slightly mollified by Jack's assurances, Sam was quite obviously not. He tapped his finger on the table to gain his brother's and Jack's attention. "I'll ask again," he said. "Why us?"
"You're kidding, right." Jack laughed. "I know what you've done. Both of you. You two are big, damn heroes." Jack took in the embarrassed flushes. "And modest to boot. Trust me, you'd both be a welcome addition to my team. Look, all I'm asking is that you listen. Listen to what I have to say, and see if you don't want to join up."
"And if we say no?" Sam asked.
"Then you two are off on your merry way. And just to show some professional courtesy, I'll make sure you never have to worry about waiting SWAT teams again. I'll get you out of the F.B.I. database, completely clear your records."
"Bullshit," Dean scoffed.
"You can't do that," Sam said.
Jack winked at him. "I can do lots of things."
Dean crossed his arms over his chest and gave Jack a hard stare. "So, you're gonna make us all nicey-nice with the Feds, and we don't even have to drink your Kool-aid if we don't want to?"
"I don't quite believe it either." Jack ruefully shook his head. "Trust me, beautiful, if I wasn't in a relationship with a man who's not only very dangerous, but also extremely organized, I'd be jockeying for more, but..." Jack shrugged and raised his hands in a helpless gesture. "Commitment. What can you do?"
"Organized?" Dean raised an eyebrow.
"He alphabetizes all our weapons."
Sam got a speculative look on his face. "That would make it easier to-"
"No," Dean said, cutting him off.
"But-"
"No."
"I-"
"Sam," Dean said warningly.
"Dean," Sam said petulantly.
"This is fun!" Jack announced, clapping his hands together. "But since I have a flight in fourteen hours I'm gonna have to nix the brotherly banter for the moment. We have things to discuss, gentlemen."
"Fine," Dean said. "We're listening. Tell us all about..."
"Torchwood." Jack smiled. "We're called Torchwood."
*****
end
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Neat! Love Jack struggling to stay committed to Ianto, and the sly little FIRELFY reference!
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Indeed! Of course, I'd need to see some more Graham/Xander, just to be sure... *g*
btw- just about finished that SUPERMAN RETURNS fic I showed you a while back...
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Re: ha! this is great!
Thanks!
Poor Dean. Sammy usually gets his way on such things, and you just know the trunk's going to looking a lot nicer in a few weeks time. *g*
i just can't see the boyz abandoning the fight like this...
That's why I set it in the future. It's post Dean's deal, post Demon war, etc... So, the boys would be free and clear to dope Dean up and cross the pond. *g*
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Thanks for the fun read!
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Could you imagine an actual crossover between those two shoes? The world would implode from all the UST. Ah, but what a way to go. :D
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This is shiny and lovely and made of win, epseically
Gorgeous story!
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Love the fic, and again- I'd love it if you could make this a verse, please! It works amazing on its own, but also cries out for sequels ;)
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Glad you liked it. And, yeah, I'm thinking about delving into this 'verse again. There are a couple of other things percolating first though, but we'll see. *g*
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goodbad thoughts*Propositioned
Re: Propositioned
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Please!!! *very pleaing look - attempting puppy eyes here*
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But yeah. Sammy wanting to alphabetise their weapons! Jack's little frisson of guilt because Ianto's winning in his campaign to domesticate him! SQUEE!
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But, OMGYES to everything you wrote. If there end up being any sequels I don't suppose I could use some of that, could I? I now want Dean and Rhys bonding fic so much.
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:wails: But what about Tom, Martha's frankly adorable paediatrician boyfriend? Sod it. threesome. Yes, well, Martha's bullshit detector vs. Dean. Mwhahahahahaha.
Dean and Rhys, sacked out on the couch with beer and doritos. 'Oh, man, you should have known not to ask her to do the ironing.' 'Italian 70s cars shouldn't be allowed, even if their fuel ratio to the mile's crap. I saw one at a show. The puddles of drool were terrifying.' 'Dav once said he'd contemplate leaving his missus for one model.' 'You do not leave people for Italian sports cars. classic Aston Martins, on the other hand....'
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There are no other words right now.
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I dont get to watch Torchwood at home but I did just buy the first season on DVD and I love it . And now I love this crossover !!!!!!
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I gotta say, you got Jack so well on this. The whole freckles thing was lovely. And the Ianto/Sam similarities. *snerk*
What a fun read! Thank you!
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Oh, fun.
:)
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*giddy with Ianto-love*
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I loved the:
"a man who's not only very dangerous, but also extremely organized"
It made me laugh, alot!
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Dean's mouth dropped, then the supposed hardened mass
murderer blushed.
Jack leaned towards him, freer with his movements now
that the blade had disappeared. "You," he said delightedly, "have freckles!"
"Do not!" Dean looked agast.
"I love freckles."
"Shut up."
Awesome!
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Sam got a speculative look on his face. "That would make it easier to-"
I love the fact that Sam likes to do the same!
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