This is a very adult story I am rather proud of. It also has not be edited as my beta is working on my "serious" story that I am honestly trying to publish. This however is sooo dirty/adult that I can't publish it elsewhere but is so good (I think) that it needs to be out here for you fans to enjoy.
The story placement is before "Children of Earth but well after the death of Tosh and Owen, as the remaining Torchwood staff have become accustomed to "going it alone". It includes my character, Aliyah Teelbaum who is described in my other stories as "having Hallie Berry's body, Whoopie Goldberg's wit, and a therapis't mind". She is the leader of Torchwood Tel Aviv and has know Jack since his days at the Time Academy. She is a rabbi and has a special fondness for Jack and Ianto's relationship. If you have further questions about this character or other references, please email me. The story is not done but I would love in put from fans about where it is going.
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“Okay, okay mum!” said the exacerbated Gwen Cooper while hanging up her personal cell phone. I, serving her morning coffee, raised an eyebrow. “Damn,” she said answering his query, “It’s my aunt-my mum’s older sister.”
“Dead, I assume,” I said while taking a sip my cup.
“Very much so and mum’s a singular mess and demanding I show immediately.” She pulled out the phone again, “I’d better call Rhys.” She turned her back and began chatting with seemingly immediately as she kindly walked away so not to disturb anyone else with her family problems.
Jack came out of his office in time to hear her irritated voice quaking at Rhys. I handed him a hot cup of Java. “What’s up?” asked Jack Harkness.
“Death in the family.”
Jack nodded while taking a sip, “Perfect as usual.” I flashed him a grin to acknowledge the compliment.
Suddenly, there was a ringing coming from one of the Hub computers. It was a Skype call from Rabbi Aliyah Teelbaulm, head of the Torchwood Tel Aviv and Shalem Institute for Peace. “Jack?”
“Rabbi! Great to hear from you, as I so rarely lately get to hear that purr from across the continent.”
Aliyah laughed, “Jack Harkness, you rogue! Do you ever quit?” The rabbi had Halli Berry’s body and Whoopi Goldberg’s whit. Her hair was deep brownish red, dropping in Shirley Temple curls to her shoulder. She had olive colored skin with round, friendly features. Jack’s coquettish approach was not unwarranted, but Aliyah was beautiful as she was brilliant and cunning. She had been running Torchwood there for a year but had known Jack from his days with the Time Agency through his time with The Doctor. “Hello, Ianto!” She had always been a great fan of our relationship and had on more than one occasion offered sage advice when my sweet smelling boss had dumbfounded me. “Has Jack made an honest man of you yet?”
I started to answer when Jack interrupted me, “Aliyah, I thought I was your only one!” Jack held his hands to his heart in a mocking plea while I shot him an incredulous look and a pop on his head with a file folder. Jack laughed then made a half attempt to pat my ass but I was too quick for him. There was plenty of time for that later. The rabbi rarely gave us for purely social reasons.
Aliyah shook her head and smiled at us who during a previous mission, before Tosh and Owen died, she had become fond of, “Where’s Gwen?”
“Talking with Rhys,” Jack pointed behind him where Gwen was still animatedly talking on the phone. “There seems to be a family emergency.”
“Ah, tell her I said hi ‘cuz is sounds like she won’t be able to join you with this.”
“With what?”
Aliyah sighed, “I hate to ask you to do this Jack but the American President is in town and with new peace talks underway, my people are swamped just watching over our rift activity.” A rift had been discovered last year in Tel Aviv and in such a volatile area, establishing a Torchwood unit was critical. Rabbi Teelbaulm had a fabulous reputation within both the Israeli and Palestinian governments, one of the few both trusted-the former due to her status as a hero in the ’48 and ’67 wars and the latter because of the social service work her institute had done in the occupied territories. High level officials from both sides were aware of her alien origins, as an immortal humanoid from the planet Jeshurun Prime and somehow that gave her even more street credit. If she was calling, it was likely not social.
“How can Torchwood Cardiff help?” asked Jack.
She leaned into the screen some, her face becoming grim, “Jack, we’ve got some good intelligence about a shipment of alien arms sales.”
“You’re not boring me. How much do we know?”
I came back stand next to Jack and began taking notes as Aliyah continued, “The Machla are dealers looking for another place to sell their wares. They’ve found the rift and see it as a capitalist’s wet dream. They’ve made some contacts and our intel informs us that they have plans to supply arms to Hamas and a militant Israeli settlers group without either side knowing of the other. They figure to escalate the war by keeping them both coming and keep selling until both sides blow each other and everyone else of the planet. They’ve done it on other planets and what was left behind makes nuclear war look like fireworks at a family picnic. Jack, we’ve got to stop them.”
“Okay,” I interjected, “So we can set up a sting operation when they arrive and catch them and the weapons.”
“Sorry, Ianto,” said Aliyah, “it ain’t that easy.” She sighed, “The operative who had the meet location was found yesterday murdered just outside his house along with his wife and 6 month old daughter. Their faces were torn off before they died.”
I grimaced at the image, “So how can we stop them?”
“You’re gonna have to stop the weapons before they get here. We know where they are originating from.”
“Where is that?” asked Jack.
“The planet Perturbatio,” she answered and Jack nodded in agreement.
“Excuse me,” thinking to interrupt a the forming plan, “We have a Torchwood space ship? I don’t remember cataloguing that and I know everything about this place, mind you!”
Jack disregarded my protests and returned to Aliyah, “Where on Perturbatio?”
“When you arrive on Perturbatio, you’re going to a town called Familiaritas and meet our contact, Khatara. I’ve worked with him in the past and who knows how to reach the Machla. I’m working on a cover story to get you in you now.”
In the background, Gwen could be heard complaining, it apparently to her father now. Negotiating last minute family events are never easy. “Nobody’s telling me about how we are getting to said planet,” I tried to remind Jack. “And where and what is this place anyway?”
This seemed to be a question someone was willing to answer. Aliyah posts a star chart on the screen, “Perturbatio is in the Outro System, just round the corner from the Milky Way, about a 2 to 3 day travel.”
I’m getting irritated now, as the realization of just how we are going to get there is coming over me, “I’m not doing time travel, Jack. Not that Doctor box thing…it sounds dangerous.” Jack brushed me off.
Aliyah, I guess thinking she was reassuring me, continued, “You’ll love it, Ianto! Familiaritas is like a combination of Las Vegas, 1890s western America, and pre-Castro Cuba-a very stylish town. And the ships that go there, make those Princess Cruises seem like row boats!” I’m losing my mind now. The last time I flew a regular airplane, my sister and my mates had to plaster me with two pints of brandy.
Jack grabbed my hand and kissed it. “Don’t worry baby,” he cooed, “I hold the barf bag steady for you.” Aliyah giggled and I gave them both a dirty look.
As if he hadn’t already thought this part through, I asked, “And how are we going to get to the intergalactic ship? It’s not like they have nonstop flights through Heathrow.”
Jack, still holding my hand, raised it up and pointed to his wrist band. Closing my eyes, I could already feel the bile rising from my stomach.
“Ianto,” Aliyah teased, “look at the screen.” I peeped through one eye and saw the most exquisite suits, “Like I said, I don’t have all of your cover story worked out but I can tell you that the people in Familiaritas like to dress.” My mouth was watering. Finally, a mission where looking clean is a priority! “I know you like Jack’s pre-War fare but can you imagine him in one of these?” She was right about that. Next to seeing him naked, having him in a well-tailored suit was next to heaven. “I’m sending you the specs now and most distance travel ships have a tailor onboard.” I was sold.
“When do we need to leave?” Jack asked now that he was assured I’d go.
“How close to now can you get?”
Jack turned around and looked at Gwen, still complaining while making arrangements. “I think it will be just me and you.”
II. Departure:
Note to self-never trust Jack Harkness when he says something scary won’t be. Didn’t need to “just hold his hand” as every one of my molecules broke down then reintegrated, I needed to crawl into his skin or better yet just stay home on Earth. And just think, I not only had to do this to get to the ship that would travel to some other planet, I had to take it to get back. Yuk!
Once he convinced me to open my eyes, we were at the landing dock of the UFG Curiosus Meretricis. Jack said that UFG stood for the United Federation of Galaxies. I thought either he or they had seen too many Star Trek episodes. We were somewhere within the MilkyWay and that the trip to Perturbatio would take a couple of days. I was just grateful to be on something that at least looked solid. Jack just laughed at me. “Think of this part as a sort of vacation, eh,” he said. “I think we both could use one.”
Once I was certain that I had all my appendages, I started looking around. We were moving in a single file line up toward the entryway of the ship. From what I could see, it was gray and shaped like a fat version of the American space shuttle with window slide outs like a RV. If we weren’t in outer space in 2010, you would have thought it was any pre World War traveling vessel leaving off the Port of London. However, the difference was our fellow passengers. All were an assortment of your usual alien types, like a casting call at a George Lucas movie, only more stylish. These creatures presented themselves like the elite of the galaxy. This was no tourist cruise ship but a first class space cruiser. I guess Torchwood did have deep pockets.
Jack checked our bags with the purser like he was a frequent flyer. “Thirsty?” he asked. I nodded. He took my hand and walked through the throng of passengers and well-wishers. He smiled at me while we took the lift to what I assumed was the third level. He kept hold of me as he did his usual quick dash along the halls, weaving in and out of groups of people. Folks were staring at us because they weren’t used to seeing two men holding hands but either because Jack nearly knocked them over or due to his good looks. It was nice to be in an environment where we were normal.
Jack made an abrupt halt, as he is prone to do, in front of a what seemed to be either a bar or café. Jack translated the name as The Narwhal's Cup. “The best, most exotic coffee this side of your the Milky Way,” he grinned, eyes lit up with Christmas Day excitement. “And the baristas are no slouches either!” he added.
The inside was more bar than coffee shop, full with noisy, laughing patrons clinching what looked to me like espresso cups and gesticulating like drunken sailors. Jack pulled me into a corner bar seat where he was end up standing but crunched next to me. He called out to one of the ladies behind the bar in a language I didn’t recognize, obviously ordering two drinks for us. A tall, voluptuous brunette with cat eyes and leopard spots from her ears down both sides of her exposed back dripped her tits over the bar handing us our drinks. Jack leaned over to her, and while whispering something, caressed the back of her ear. She giggled, and trotted off, her butt jiggling underneath her black nylon mini skirt. I couldn’t blame Jack’s shameless behavior on this occasion.
“Taste this Ianto,” Jack encouraged. “Tell me if this isn’t some of the best coffee you’ve ever had.” I was hurt at first, as I thought mine was considered his best coffee. But slipping this, I had to agree with him. The aroma was vaguely tart and, if I hadn’t known better, seemed to have a hint of jasmine. It was strong but not overpowering like many dark roasts. And its richness indicated a very slow brew, likely an 18 to 24 hour process. “Take it slowly though,” Jack warned. “It has some hallucinogenic qualities.”
“Where is it from?” I asked.
“Trapsbury, just past where we are going,” he said taking slow slip from his cup. “I’ll try to see if we can bring some back with us. Might be a bit difficult though. Those Trapsburians are notorious negotiators.” I gave him my best “please Big Daddy” look. It works most of the time.
“Where does the bar get their baristas?” I commented while sipping some more and watching another fabulous creature salter her ass pass me, winking as she went by.
“The Kihobi are minority peoples who migrated to the same planet about 200 years ago when their sun died. They are coffee’s cultivators. The Trapsbury are merchants but look to the Kihobi, who live in the jungle areas of the planet and are the artists when it comes to correctly harvesting this nectar.” He noticed me take a rather large gulp, “Whoa big boy! Like I said, this isn’t your some Vietnamese dark. Be careful, now or I’ll have to carry you to our cabin.”
I was already feeling good and finally relaxed, so that didn’t sound like a bad idea, particularly the longer I watched the cute baristas. Jack laughed at me then called for another round. When the one with the black skirt came back with our next round, he whispered something to her which again made her giggle. I became irritated and again downed my cup quickly. After handing her a card with something I couldn’t read scribbled on it, he said, “Come on. I think you’ve had your limit.” Selfish asshole, I thought to myself as he pulled me out of the cafe.
Walking toward the lifts and then down a hallway toward the traveling cabins, I plotted my return to the café. But, as usual, he was ahead of me, “Can you put the barista aside for just a minute and admire our accommodations?”
The man certainly knew how to change a subject. The cabin was amazing. Aaron Spelling’s Love Boat needed to take some specks from this spot. It was definitely designed to stay in and not go out-fully stocked bar and kitchenette, plush beige matching furniture throughout, livingroom with wide view of the passing stars, huge bedroom (although I didn’t see that until later), two sink brown marble bath with separate shower and bath tub, small office with desk containing built in communication center glassed off from the living room all underneath hardwood floors with the cushiest Indian rugs your feet ever rested on. Ah, did I mention that it also had a remarkable library and music system? “Brilliant!” was all I could say.
Jack grabbed me and kissed me on my forehead, “I thought you’d like it.” He took off his coat and deposited it on chair close by. “Loosen your tie, Ianto,” he said. “When I told you this was part vacation, I meant it.” He got a bottle of what was probably beer from the mini bar. “I’m going to call into Aliyah, let her know we are on our way and see if she has our cover situated.” Just as he took a sip, there was a knock at the door. “Answer that, will ya,” he asked going into the office area.
Standing on the other side was the barista. I noted her name tag said Chimia and somewhere in the back of my mind I wondered how it was she had a name tag in English. She gave me a come hither smile as she walked past into the living room. Jack recognized her and knocked on the glass window to say hello. Were his blue eyes twinkling just a little more than usual? She turned to me and entered my personal space. She tugged on my tie and said something in her language that was probably akin to “want some of this?” I nodded yes.
She pushed me back, just enough to give me a good view of her act. I could feel the hallucinogen from the coffee seeping through my nerves just as I watched her clothes melt off her luscious body like butter dripping down hot flapjacks. I couldn’t get mine off fast enough. I sat in one of the room’s creamy, soft shell sofas and pulled her on top, facing me while straddling my waist.
There had to be a remote control somewhere because the pounding rhythms of George Michael’s “Freek!”
I'll be your sexual freak of the week
I'll be your inspirational brother
Yo mama can't you see
I'll be your sexual freak of the week
I'll be your educational lover
Your one fuck Fantasy
Like a cat worshipping its owner, she rubbed her body against mine in an incessant rhythm. Her taunt nipples against my hairless chest and her moans against my neck were wondrous. Her skin was smooth like silk and round like Marilyn Monroe.
Can I come on in, my sweet baby
Can I move on in . . .
She licked just underneath my ear, promising to make me cum like never before using some universal language. She started to firmly stroke my growing shaft in movements that matched her body’s. I would have bet millions that her fingers were bits of lightening especially made for my cock.
You got yourself some action
Said you got your sexy Java
You got your speed connection
Free chat, fuck that, get a little harder
Just as a small dribble of gism seeped from my engorged head, she withdrew from me and I was immediately left feeling cold and yearning. Standing dominantly in front of me still in her red, three-inch spike heels, she smiled at me slyly. It made me think of Jack. I knew he must be enjoying this from behind the glass in the other room even while discussing business. He and Bill Clinton had the ability to be that kind of ambidextrous. But frankly, I didn’t give a shit at that moment about Jack Harkness-I was going to have my dick wrapped up in whatever passed for alien pussy in this galaxy and it was going to happen now.
I reached out to grab her back to my lap but she pushed my hand away with a “no, no, no” look. She had other ideas. With a click of her tongue against her teeth, she turned her back to me and stuck out her ass. I got the idea and held up my dick. She moved in and sunk my cock directly inside her butt. My dick got even harder by how amazingly wet and tight she felt. I sighed loudly with much satisfaction. She giggled then wiggled her hips once filled with my ample wand. Controlling the rhythm now, I squeezed and guided the sides of her bodacious ass, sliding her up and down over me at just the right angle to sheath me inside her to the top of my balls. Her long legs draped on the other side of mine, she leaning back against my chest, moaning lightly against my ear. Even her back was erotic and I was close to cumming.
Honestly, I had forgotten about Jack until I spied him through my half closed eyes over her moving shoulders. One minute his gloriously, delectable ambisextrous self was smiling at us, naked and softly rubbing his cock and the next moment he was gone. I found myself irritated with him initially, thinking he should have been jealous or at least not enjoy watching me shag this intoxicating cat woman. Then, Alejandro Escovedo reminded me that
I was drunk,
I was down,
I was wanderin' round my bed,
I was drunk,
I was down,
I was wanderin' round my bed
I called out your name
Called out your name
He didn’t give me long to feel this way for the next thing I knew my sex partner’s moans increased. Just as she stopped moving up and down, insisting on rolling her hips around my dick, I could feel Jack’s tongue as it would start from the base of my balls and creep up over her clit. This started another rhythm, one that was all his own. Jack’s tongue seemed to know what spot needed what attention-her clit liked thin, quick licks while I begged for his mouth to suck my balls like a hungry baby at a nipple. How did he do it? It must have been one of those techniques he learned from some alien swami or another during some Time Agency mission or another-or maybe it was the “dope coffee” I drank earlier. I hadn’t ever felt anything like it before. At any moment I feared I’d lose consciousness and die before I had a chance to ask him how he did it. Chimia and I both started shaking, our skin prickle like shards of glass.
“No you two don’t,” Jack said while standing up and lifting Chimia’s legs. “I’m not letting you be done this soon.” He slide his dick in her cunt like a snake sliding through a Louisiana swamp. She cried out, filled up and stretched out farther than ever in her life. It was exquisite for all involved. Jack had the control now and neither Chimia nor I were complaining. His dick rubbed against mine as we seesawed between her holes. While Jack’s cock-rhythm was igniting sparks inside of Chimia’s belly, I must have looked at him jealously. “Greedy bitch,” he laughed. Bending down close to my ear, “I got something for you too” he added before kissing me deeply.
Oooh now that the moment's here
Baby lift my cup for you to drink my dear, Baby
Oooh I know that you're lovin me
Don't be ashamed baby, go on and take that thang
Chimia climaxed. Her shivers rattled around my cock with a massage therapist’s deftness.
She collapsed again me with my dick still inside her. Her hips continued up and down slightly in time with her heavy breathes and I felt I was again on the edge. Lost in my pending organism, I didn’t realize that Jack moved his cock until he had lifted my legs over Chimia’s. His plunging into my ass was initially painful and I yelped out. He kept still but fully inside me to allow me to adjust to his fullness. He seemed bigger than his usual nine inches, rounder than his usual hefty girth. My ass was on fire but in a good way. My grabbing the side of his ass signaled that I was ready and he began to move in and out of me in a building rhythm. I opened my eyes long enough to see him watching me-he often did that when we made love. He got great pleasure from my organisms. I sighed and offered more of my ass.
I won't stop till your legs start shaking
Keep on going till your legs start shaking
Every motion till your legs start shaking
To what I know till your legs start shaking
You're so good till your legs start shaking
Like I knew it boo till your legs start shaking
I don't stop till your legs start shaking
Till I reach the top till your legs start shaking
Sleepy Brown’s Till (Your Legs Start Shaking) was so right about this situation. As she recovered, Chimia’s joined Jack’s pace in a more deliberant manner, sliding up and down on my dick like before but this time I wrapped my free harm around her waist, holding on as a cycle of ecstasy reignited.
My organism started slowly, somewhere in the back of my ass then rumbling around hips. I started shaking again, braced my hands against the arms of the chair as I felt a mad rush envelope me. By the time my dick exploded, I was screaming, “Jack! Jack!” I began bucking against his cock and shooting gism deep into her ass. She began to cum again too, as did Jack. I could fell his heat overflow then drip down the crack of my ass, likely ruining the pristine upholstery.
The room spun then collapsed around me. I did something between sleep and passing out for I don’t know how long. I vaguely remember Chimia thanking Jack for the good time, kissing him on the cheek and leaving. Somehow he got me up from the chair and into the cushy bed. He nuzzled me in that fabulous 51st Century smell of his and I finally did fall asleep.
I could’ve stayed there in that bed with Jack’s arms around me forever but then again, that wouldn’t be the Torchwood way, now would it?
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Mornings on a space vessel are kind to hangovers. You don’t find yourself facing some bright, sunny light reminding you that you should have been up hours ago and you should not be heading to work or some other useful endeavor instead of keeping your head under comfy covers. Unfortunately, this particular space vessel has Jack Harkness on it, whose cheerful razzing only aggregates a migraine.
“Hey gorgeous!” he said through two layers of bed linen. “I’m still your boss you know and you’re on the clock.” He must of taken my groan as acknowledgment. “I’ve got a good cure for you but I need you sitting up pronto.” I pulled the cover down below one eye and realized he had kindly not put all the lights on in the room. He was standing next to the bed, obviously shower, fully dressed holding a cup of something that actually didn’t turn my stomach. “This isn’t hair of the dog but I promise it will make the world a less scary place.”
I took a chance and sat up, then grabbed at the drink, hoping it would prevent further stomach upset and porcelain hugging. Surprisingly, it was not only immediately soothing to the tummy but tasted good. I drank it greedily. “Alright!” I said and drained the oversize cup.
Jack smiled then dashed out of the room. He returned with the cabin’s laptop. Aliyah was on some form of intergalactic Skype. “Hey you two? I see the accommodations are cozy but really Jack! T-M-I folks. You could have given Ianto a chance to dress first.” Shit, I had even forgotten I was still naked.
I was about to scramble out of the bed like some adult child having been caught shagging on visit to his parent’s house but Jack yanked me back to my spot, “I thought to make you jealous that you didn’t come with us,” cooed my roguish partner. He sat down next to me on the bed and gave me a peck on the forehead. “What’s you got for us?”
Aliyah, long used to Jack’s ways, just shook her head, and put her glasses on to read the intel sheet she had for us. “Anyway, I’ve got your cover story and the papers are being forwarded to you now. You two really should have brought Gwen along with you for this one. You’re two Chicago pimps looking to expand your business interests into weapons dealing.”
“Sounds cool, man,” I said to wary looks from both of them for my attempts at imitating an American accent.
“I think this is a time when your naturally quiet nature will come in handy,” responded Aliyah.
“I think I have idea of how we can boost our cover,” Jack in an attempt to rescue me but I still raised a wary eyebrow at him. He ignored me, “What else do you have for us?”
“Everything else, including your meeting spot is, in the communiqué,” she removed her glasses to add emphasis to her next statement. “I can’t tell you Jack how important this mission is. Things are delicate around here and the last thing we need is for either side to get a hold of weapons which would blow the whole region into war.”
“What kinds of weapons are we talking about here?” I asked.
“Plaster bombs for one,” she brought an image of the weapon on the screen. “There’re nasty explosives that imbed nanobits directly into the skin which literally eat the person from the inside out over the course of a few hours. That’s only one of them.” The screen changed to show the effects but I turned away before it got to the really horrid parts. Even Jack was sickened. “I like to get a triple deal out of this –one, to destroy the shipment, two find where the Machla are getting their arms, three eliminate them as a threat. However, if all I can get is the latter, I’ll take it.”
“Sounds good!” Jack confirmed. “We’ll keep in communications black out from this point until we’ve finished.”
“Look forward to hearing good news,” she said. “Thanks, Jack.” Then Aliyah signed off.
“Jack,” I asked as he shut the computer, “What if someone already knows we’re here?”
“Not likely. If I give anything to those Torchwood Tel Aviv folks it is that they know how to handle intel.” He got off the bed, “I’m going to review these specs.”
“No,” I indicated rising up myself. Whatever he gave me took last night right out of my system, thus I was able to stand up with little stomach or head bothers.
“Ianto,” his glance cruised up and down my nude body. “Darling, we really need to get to work now.” His smile and offered his trademark “come hither” raised eyebrow made it look like he could be convinced otherwise.
But, I was ready for business now, “I’ve got an appointment with the ship’s tailor.”
**********************************************************
Monsieur Rainier was one of those rare Earthlings Jack told me about that got mixed up in some alien activity or another only to find that they had more of a life on another planet than they ever had on Earth. Usually, they were innocent felons of one kind or another but they tended to do well in places like this where there was no such thing as human resource departments or criminal back ground checks. More importantly, he came highly recommended by Aliyah. His was the one of the three tailors onboard but his shop was the smallest. The entrance had a small golden sign that a fluttering of an eyelash would have missed, “Monsieur Rainier – Selective Male Clothing”. The welcoming counter was no larger than most New York apartment walk in closets but Aliyah convinced me that I shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.
A wisp of a man, whose mannerisms would have made Truman Capote embarrassed, did seem to have my father’s grasp of tailoring. I only had to describe Jack and give him the dimensions and he immediately pointed to the right patterns and fabric. And he was a man of his word, for no more than a handful of hours of my initial visit, he sent a message to our room that the outfits were ready. In typical fashion, Jack had disappeared, and after waiting for 4 hours, since neither our coms nor cell phones worked aboard, I had to resort to requesting a ship messenger-a prosimian looking creature who scampered throughout the ship calling out Jack’s name like so many 1940s spy movies. So much for anonymity. Eventually, my primate friend returned with a note from Jack saying that I should go ahead and he would meet me there. Of course, I arrived to the shop alone.
“Mr. Jones, merveilleux! It is so, how shall I say, fabulous to see you again.” I nodded, trying not to share my irritation with another person whose only crime was being prompt.
The flamboyant queen purred toward Jack, “And who is your ever most handsome companion?” I turned around to see a laughing Jack arrive with Chimia, in a different but similarly tight, shimmering outfit, with her hand attached to his elbow. I wondered if their flush faces meant they had shared more than a stupid joke with each other prior to their arrival.
“This is my associate, Captain Jack Harkness,” I explained, “and our other associate, er, Ms Chimia.”
“Bonjour élégant!” Rainier, distinctly ignoring the woman, giggled like a school girl as Jack greeted the man with a slight kiss on the wrist. “Oh my, and a cap---tain no doubt!” If the man batted his eyelashes harder, he’d taken the moisture off his eyeballs.
I wasn’t jealous, just annoyed. “I studied the fashion for our journey to and came to Monsieur Rainier with the specs,” I explained to Jack.
With Rainier’s attention magically diverted back to the matter at hand, he prattled off to get our garments. “You two will be the most fashionable creatures on Familiaritas.” He returned from the back of his shop with four large boxes than looked like they outweighed him by at least 50 kilos. “These style is fresh from opening season.”
Jack unwrapped the box Rainier handed him like an eight year old at his first birthday party. Holding up the suit jacket, he crooned, “Oh, now this is style!” He held it out so his companion, who was still holding on to his bicep, could see. Her giggles seemed to make her spots jiggle-did nothing on this woman not move like a belly dancer at a bachelor party?
To keep from feeding my annoyance, I opened my box and found my suit as pleasing as Jack found his. Aliyah was right-this sartorial workmanship was remarkable. The colors, the fabric choice, the needle work itself would have cost thousands of pounds on Earth. I looked at Jack as like a wife at her blue collar husband the day he took them to Tiffany’s to buy her a pearl necklace for their anniversary.
“We’ll take it,” he affirmed. “But them on our travel tab.” He was about to turn around to leave when he stopped himself. Looking at Chimia, he said, “And can you come up with something equally éblouissant as these suits for Ms. Chimia?”
Rainier frowned. “I work exclusively in men’s wear.” He thought for a moment once he saw Jack’s pout, “I supposed for an additional fee to cover the cost of alternations, I can loan her the outfit one of my couriers uses.” Rainier approached Chimia with his measuring strip. The aghast the cat woman bared her teeth and her eyes flared at the tailor. Jack patted her hand, now firmly clinching his bicep and whispered something reassuring in her ear. This got her to calm enough to allow Rainier to get his lengths and widths. Reluctantly and nearly snarling back at Chimia, the tailor reluctantly indicated, “I’ll have it to your room in an hour.” He was rewarded with a quick peck on the cheek from Jack, who promptly turned on his heel and left. I rolled my eyes before doing the same.
Electronic eyes followed the unusual team as they left the shop.
*******************************************
Once we were back in our suite, we couldn’t wait to try on our suits. The cultural information from Torchwood Tel Aviv indicated that the style of dress on Perturbatio, particularly it’s largest and most cosmopolitan town, Familiaritas, was similar to the zoot suits of the American 1940s and the 1950s British Teddy Boys. Jack’s more resembled a zoot suit worn by Chicano or African-American males of the time. His was a rich, royal blue (to match his eyes) with high-waisted, wide-legged, tight-cuffed pegged trousers, a long coat nearly past his knees with wide lapels and wide padded shoulders over a bright white shirt and matching blue and white suspenders and tie. To complete the ensemble, he also had a blue, big brim Fedora, white hatband accompanying long feather and pointy, French-style shoes. A young Malcolm X once described just such an outfit as: "a killer-diller coat with a drape shape, reet pleats and shoulders padded like a lunatic's cell".
My attire was more in the style of the Teddy Boy. I chose chutney green over mellowing mustard pin-stripe yellow for the coloring of my Edwardian style drape jacket, suede Gibson shoes with thick crepe soles, narrow 'drainpipe' trousers, a smart shirt lightened yellow shirt, and a bootlace tie. Both Jack and I’s drape jackets are not as impractical as they may initially seem. Not only would they act as a badge of recognition within the community but, as it was made of woollen cloth with lots of pockets, it would keep us warm on a planet whose daily temperature barely got above 5 degrees at the height of the summer sun and was also good at concealing large or numerous weapons. I had a matching vest with a silver pocket watch but I skipped the hat opting for hair jelled into a quiff swept back into Duck's Arse at the back.
Chimia’s costume arrived as Jack and I were dressing. Her peoples must not have a sense of modesty as she simply undressed and dressed while standing next to us as we admired her and adjusted our clothes in the bathroom wall length mirrors. Her Teddygirls outfit was an American styled, 50s brown circle skirt, with a low cut, tight cream colored short sleeved sweater that made the woman’s tits look more bulbous than they already were. There were hundreds of silicone Hollywood wannabies who wished their breasts did that to fabric. After putting on back seamed nylons, she poured her feet into what looked to be torturous Winkle Pickers shoes. She tied her long, auburn hair in a single ponytail with a bow that matched her skirt.
Jack took note of an unopened box and pulled out a woman’s an ankle length fur. “Ah, how kind. Shetland Fur, very warm!” he said as he wrapped it around the shoulders of a clearly delighted Chimia.
“Jack, are you meaning to take her along with us?” She must of known somehow that I was not only talking about her but not in a kind manner for she bounced over to me and kissed my cheek firmly, then pulled away to beg me through those long lashes.
“What are a couple of master pimps without their bitch, eh?” Jack responded while straightening his shirt in the mirror and admiring the reflection.
Without skipping a beat, Chimia planted another kiss on my cheek. This one was firmer and closer to my ear which left wet warmth blowing in and leading to chills down through my dick. “I guess,” my cock eagerly agreed although my mind remained vaguely concerned.
Finally, able to pull himself away from his Dionysus moment, Jack announced, “We’ll be arriving in 12 hours. It’s time we go over the plan then rest before be land.” He took note of my cock’s attention to our new team member, then said, “Well, maybe only a little rest.”
Meanwhile, on the ship’s bridge, the captain said he was heading to bed, leaving the ship with the helmsman for the night. When the captain left, the helmsman pulls out a PDA which he tunes to Torchwood team’s cabin. He listens to the conversation about the plan. After pushing a few buttons and the screen indicated that this recorded information had been forwarded.
MORE LATER.............
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