Pairing: Owen/OMC, Jack/Ianto
Spoilers: Episode 1
Summary: Fandom cliche #26: gay bar.
Notes: For the Undercover challenge. I ship Jack/Ianto and I write Owen. Yeah, I don't know.
'Oh, come on,' Owen complained. 'You can't get Ianto to help?'
'The whole place would be all over him in seconds.' Jack paused to leer at Ianto's retreating back. 'Which means you get spend some quality time with the captain.' He grinned and clapped his hand on Owen's shoulder.
Owen gave him a withering look. 'At a gay club?'
Jack's grin remained fixed, but his grip tightened almost imperceptibly.
'Fuck,' Owen muttered.
'Anything on your side?'
'Nothing.' Owen glanced around again and adjusted his earpiece. 'Not unless that orange light comes from glow sticks.'
'Keep looking. And keep your line open.'
'Aye aye, Captain.' Owen turned back to his beer. Some alien in human form, with a penchant for stealing air out of men's lungs and leaving them in comas. Most of the victims had been to Exit the night of the attack, which explained Owen's shitty position. The only men around here were overmuscled freaks or skinny little bastards, nothing worth looking at. He took a swig of the beer. Jack said the alien glowed orange when aroused, which still didn't explain why Owen was here instead of Ianto. Jack was probably off having phone sex with him anyway, Owen groused. He was still scarred by those CCTV images from last week.
'Why the long face?'
Owen turned to the man next to him. Not one of those godawful stereotypes: he was fit but not muscle-bound, attractive but fairly ordinary. And there was something about him that made Owen want to press that body against his and taste him. Pheromones, got to be pheromones. This wasn't karma, was it? He swallowed and looked back at his beer.
'Ah, just work. Boss. The usual.'
'Are you pulling?' Jack's amused voice purred in his ear. Owen grimaced.
'You should be relaxing,' the man shifted closer. 'Seize the moment, all that.'
'What, just in case tomorrow's shit?'
'If fucking Chelsea win the cup, yeah.'
Owen laughed at that. He could see a gleam of interest in the man's eyes, and Owen was about to respond when he noticed the gleam looked rather... orange.
'Jack,' he said weakly.
'You got him? Where are you?' Jack responded as the man stuck out his hand and said, 'Lloyd.'
'At the bar.' Owen gripped his hand automatically.
Lloyd looked confused. 'What?'
'Owen, try to get him outside, I'll meet you there.'
'Ah, nothing.' Owen tapped his fingers on the table. 'You want to go outside?'
Lloyd smiled, the orange glow intensifying briefly as he linked fingers with Owen. 'There's a nice alley around the back.' He pulled him towards the door. The hard part, Owen realised, was to keep himself from pushing Lloyd against the wall and attempting to lick his tonsils. Alien pheromones or not, Owen was about to do so anyway when he heard Jack shout his name. He stepped out of the way in time for Jack to throw the prison cell at Lloyd. Jack had him trapped before he could even blink.
Jack fiddled with his wristband. 'Definitely our alien. Good work, Owen.' Lloyd's enraged expression was the last Owen saw of him before Jack collapsed the cell. Owen did a quick check to make sure there were no witnesses. Without Lloyd's presence Owen found he could think more clearly, but he was still aroused. He idly hoped Gwen would be there when they got back.
'So were you really checking for aliens or were you just checking out the locals?' Owen asked when they were back in the SUV.
Jack smirked as he turned onto Bridge Street. 'It was one and the same for you. Not much to being undercover if you don't have to lie.'
Owen rolled his eyes. 'Why did you bring me instead of Ianto?'
'I told you, everyone would be trying to get Ianto in their beds. He wouldn't be able to work.'
'You just wanted everyone to keep their bloody hands off him.'
'There's that.' Jack's smirk grew wider. 'Plus our alien always went for the scrawny smartasses, not the pretty boys. Sorry to kill your romance.' Jack was almost gleeful. Owen glared at him, but Jack continued, undeterred. 'You're just mad Ianto got around to erasing the CCTV footage from last week.'
'Fuck you, Jack.' Jack merely laughed in response. Owen really hoped Gwen was free tonight.