Title: Then and Now (6/6)

Author: Emma

Characters: Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, others

Rating: This chapter is borderline NOT SAFE FOR WORK!!!

Disclaimer: Oh, please. If I owned them, would I let some of those idiots write the scripts? And if I were making any money off them, would I be where they could find me?

Summary: Jack meets the greatest detective of all time – twice.

Author’s Note: After reading Invincible Summer, someone sent me an anonymous email asking me how Jack and Ianto ended up with Sherlock Holmes’s house in Sussex. Here’s the story.

Author’s Note: God knows how this is going to turn out. Dear God, Arthur Conan Doyle is spinning in his grave hard enough to be able to sell electricity back to the grid.

Author’s Note: This takes place between The Siege of Annwfn and The Hour of the Wolf.

Author’s Note:  I hope you realize by now that this whole story has been a vamp-‘til-ready for this chapter.  

            He was inexperienced, and hesitant, and oh so willing.

            He held himself still as I removed the dressing gown. I felt his shiver as I stroked lightly along the ridge of his cheekbones and ran my thumb over his lips.  His breath hitched as my fingertips traced down his throat and came to a stop on the first button of the pyjama top.

            “I feel a fool,” he whispered. “I don’t know what to do or even how to feel.”

            I brushed my lips over his. “Remind me to tell you about my first time with Jack. After.”

            I unbuttoned the top and pushed it off his shoulders and let it drift to the floor. He was lean, all sinew and muscle that rippled under my palms as I stroked his back from shoulders to waist.  I brought my hands around to trace the elegant Y of hair that ran from his nipples down to his groin and let my fingers slide underneath the waistband of the pyjama bottoms. One tug on the drawstring and they slid down to the floor. His head lolled back and a small oh escaped him.

            I knelt at his feet and helped him with his shoes and socks. Once he was completely nude I sat back on my heels and looked him over. He was beautifully shaped, long and slender, with a slightly furry sac. I grinned up at him and he gasped and closed his eyes.

            He kept them closed until he felt my hands run up the inside of his legs, kneading in small circles. The slight flinch reminded me of my own first taste of a man’s hands, Jack’s expert hands, and I pressed a kiss to his inner thigh. He trembled as I moved closer to his groin, and he growled as my hands ignored his erection and stroked outside and around to cup his buttocks.  I licked each hipbone, tracing them with my tongue, and then stood up.

            “And so to bed.”

            He smiled uncertainly as he slid under the duvet I held up. “Are we… is it allowed to laugh at moments like this?”

            “Oh yeah.” I stripped off quickly and slid in after him. “We are allowed to do anything we want.”

            “Then I want to do this.”

            I found myself flat on my back. I curled my hand on the back of his neck and pulled him down. His mouth was hard and hungry, and the initial awkwardness gave way to passion as we devoured each other. It was delicious and perfect and if we didn’t slow down it would be over in minutes. Grabbing him around the waist, I rolled us over until he was under me with my legs on either side of his.

            “It’s not a race,” I said as I licked his jaw. “Tonight we have all the time in the world.”

            I moved down his body, sucking and nipping. I applied everything Jack had taught me to push Sherlock slowly upwards until he was writhing, hands gripping at the sheets to anchor himself. When I finally took him in my mouth he screamed my name, his whole body arching off the bed. I swallowed him whole, swirling my tongue around and around, slurping up his juices. I kept his hips pinned down; the forced immobility seemed to make him even more frenzied. He fought me for control, but I had been trained by a master and eventually he gave in, letting me do whatever I wanted, moaning as I cupped him then trailed a finger between his buttocks to rub lightly over his opening. He shook as he came, head thrown back, sobbing and gasping for air.

            I sat up, waiting until he could catch his breath. His reactions indicated that this was, if not his first time, his first time with an experienced partner. I didn’t know how strong his self-imposed inhibitions were, and I wanted him to find nothing but joy.   

            I didn't have anything to worry about. When his eyes opened, they went straight to my groin, and his hands followed. He explored me all over, front and back. Finally, finally, his fingers wrapped around my erection. I moaned and jerked as he tugged.

            “Teach me.” I arched an eyebrow, daring him to put his desire into words. “What you did, I want to do it to you. Drive you mad.”

            I moved over him on all fours. “Are you sure?”

            He wrapped his legs and arms around me and tried to throw me off balance. I obliged him. We ended up as we had started, with me flat on my back and Holmes looming over me. He licked his lips in anticipation.

            “Here starteth the first lesson,” he whispered as he dove for my neck.

            We both learned that night; he because he was discovering himself, and I because I finally understood what Jack meant when he said nothing could change between us. Jack’s presence in my mind and my soul grounded me; knowing that Jack loved me allowed me to love and cherish Sherlock.

            I woke up to the sound of running water and Sherlock cuddled against me. He had been awake for a while. In the light of day, he seemed more uncomfortable, more uncertain. He tried to move away but I wouldn’t let him.

            “Are you all right?”

            “Captain Harkness… Jack… didn’t come to bed last night.”

            “He wouldn’t unless he was invited. Jack can be exquisitely courteous in matters of sex.” I noticed the slight flush running up his neck to his cheekbones. “Why, Mr. Holmes. You were hoping he would!” Feeling mischievous, I whispered, “Shall we join him in his bath?”

            The flush ran all the way to his ears. “It would be acceptable?”

            I kissed him until we were both panting. “Jack would be overjoyed. Come on.”

            He tried to grab the dressing gown but I wouldn’t let him. Jack was in the shower, and as usual, clouds of steam had fogged all the mirrors. When I opened the shower door, he gave me his usual lazy morning grin; then he looked past me and his whole face lit up.

            I pressed a kiss to his throat. “We thought you wouldn’t mind sharing the hot water.”

            He wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me tight. He offered his other hand to Sherlock in a gesture that asked rather than demanded. Sherlock studied us for a few seconds, then placed his hand in Jack’s and allowed Jack to pull him into the shower.

            “Did Ianto make you happy last night?”

            Sherlock blushed again, but he held Jack’s eyes. “Yes.”

            Jack smiled sweetly. “ Will you let me try to make you both happy this morning?”

            He got a small nod, and proceeded to make the most of it.  From bath to bed, Jack turned our bodies into a feast for his delectation, and at the same time gave himself over to us for our pleasure. One by one he peeled off Sherlock’s fears and doubts until all that was left was Sherlock’s innate curiosity and his need to experience those feelings he had spent his whole life suppressing. And he showed me how passion could multiply if those involved loved wholeheartedly. At the end, Sherlock cradled in my arms as Jack entered him from behind, my hands holding on to both of them, my mouth filled with Sherlock’s tongue, I finally, truly, surrendered to Jack – and accepted his own surrender, given freely so many years before.

            Reality intruded a few hours later in the shape of a call from John. Jack put it on speaker. Andy had managed to trace the Rindi. It had been put up for private auction in one of Cardiff’s poshest private galleries. When Jack offered to go back to the Hub, he snorted.

            “Please. Of the two, you were the better con artist but I was the better thief. By several light years. Andy and I will handle it. Stay put and baby-sit your guest. Oh crap. Hold on a minute, will you?” He paused and we could hear Andy in the background yelling at someone to get out of the bloody water and John rumbling in his most threatening voice. “Sorry. There’s nothing much going on and the London kids are having a boat race in the fountain. Someone decided it would be just dandy to use the sub-etheric resonator as a stopwatch. By the way, I think I have your solution, but it will take a while to implement.”

            “How long a while?”

            “Maybe three months. I have to machine and calibrate some parts.”

            Jack grinned down at us, sprawling naked on the messy sheets. “Oh,  I think three months will be perfect.”

                                                          *******

            A few months after Sherlock left us we received a visit from a solicitor. The poor man was bewildered, and most apologetic, thinking he was being used to take the piss out of two strangers. He told us his grandfather had left an envelope to be delivered to Captain Jack Harkness and Mr. Ianto Jones. It was to be delivered exactly on the date specified on the back on the envelope.

            Inside, there was a deed to a home in the Sussex Downs, and a long letter. Jack still keeps it in his memory box. What it says is none of your business.

            The date was January 6^th. It was Sherlock Holmes’s birthday.