Title: That Old Black Magic
Author: halfspokenwords
Pairings: Team, slight Jack/Ianto
Rating: G
Note: Written for 1.03. Challenge was 'under the influence' with the added requirement of a mustelid (here, mink). The plot is a little bit (or a lot) cliche, and I'm a bit ashamed about that, but mainly this was an attempt to write Owen and Gwen.

***

Owen sat at Tosh's workstation, chewing the end of a pen and using one finger to absently flip through the CCTV. "Boring," he muttered around the plastic. "Boring, boring-- hey." He leaned forward, hit zoom a couple of times, and leaned forward a little more.

The pen clattered to the tabletop.

Gwen looked over from her desk. "What, did Tosh forget to turn off the CCTV in one of the women's changing rooms?"

"Very funny, Cooper," he deadpanned as she prepared a rude gesture in reply. "Ha, ha." When an onscreen flicker drew his attention back to the computer, he waved Gwen off and reached for his earpiece. "Hey Jack, got a problem here."

"Talk to me," came Jack's voice a few seconds later. "What's going on?"

"Where are you?" It was more of a question than a demand.

In the background, Owen could hear the muted sounds of traffic, a question, and the soft Welsh lilt of a reply. When Jack came back on the line, it was with the tail end of a hearty laugh. "Under no circumstances are we lost. Just coming into the city, why?"

"Need you to detour. Stop off at Le Monde." He was already transferring the location to the SUV's navigation system. "You've got your car, yeah?" he asked Gwen and from halfway to his desk, she nodded. "We'll meet you there."

"Right," Jack said. "And Ianto says I never take him anywhere." He laughed, as though Ianto had responded, then explained: "Le Monde."

"Mind if I ask," Ianto broke in, voice both professional and loud enough to be heard over Jack's earpiece, "what we're being sent after?"

Gwen, who had come up behind Owen, examined the CCTV footage. "Oh," she said as she saw what had attracted the doctor's attention. "Jack, Ianto, when you get there, look for a woman in-- what looks like a fake mink coat. She'll be hard to miss."

"Fake mink?" Jack's voice carried his disgust. "I'll say; some of you people have no taste."

***


"What are they doing in there?" Gwen whispered to Owen as they crouched just behind the doors to the Le Monde dining room. When he shrugged to say that he couldn't see, she stuck out a foot and eased the door open slightly.

"It looks like they're--" She paused, re-considering the view she had of Jack and Ianto. "...I think they're feeding her fruit."

"Figures," Owen commented. He rolled his eyes, because it really did figure. He craned his neck to see for himself.

Half of the dining area had emptied out, but there was still a large group of people-- from well-dressed patrons to wait staff, mostly men, but with a few women in the mix-- standing glassy-eyed around the mysterious woman. When she moved, they moved with her, and from time to time, she would wave someone forward to attend to some request.

At the moment, she seemed to be enjoying the newest arrivals. She whispered to Ianto, and in response he stroked her cheek rather tenderly. At her other side, Jack offered a chocolate-covered strawberry from a platter that had been produced seconds before.

"Well?" Gwen prompted after a pause.

Owen glanced back at her. "That's disgusting."

"What are we going to do?"

He thought about it for a split second before answering. "I'm going in."

Before she could manage to argue, he strode into the room, weapon drawn--

--and promptly dropped it to the floor. A few meters away, the woman in the mink coat was glowing a soft blue.

"Oh!" she cried, her tone obviously one of delight, as she spotted Owen. Her voice revealed not only that she was quite young, but also that she was not native. Her accent was nondescript. "Oh, you've come to join me for dinner as well. Hello."

She held out her hands and Owen, surprisingly docile, stepped forward to take them. She giggled and positioned him next to Jack.

In the kitchen, watching through the slightly open door, Gwen made a decision.

Taking a deep breath, she threw herself through the door and chucked a small disk at the woman's feet. As blue glow filled the room, Gwen felt the slightest stirrings of interest; just as she found herself struggling to keep from moving toward the woman in mink, a few seconds had passed, the portable cell activated, and the glow faded away.

The roomful of thralls dropped motionless to the floor.

"For god's sake," Gwen muttered as she shook off a strange, off-kilter sort of feeling and then crouched to check Owen's pulse."You lot are useless, I swear."

***