Title: Remember the Maine
By: marag
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Genre: Slash, humor
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Ianto sometimes forgets just how much Jack has traveled. But not for long.
Notes: For liz_chan's fandom_stocking. This fic exists only because mscongeniality is made of awesome and took the time to brainstorm a bunch of ideas for me.

***

Ianto sighed, leaning back in the SUV's seat, grateful that Jack had gotten the really nice leather seats. If he had to spend hours chasing phantom Rift activity across Wales, at least they could be comfortable.

Jack glanced away from the road, smiling at him. "Bored?"

"Maybe you should have taken Tosh with you. At least she can bring some of her work with her, but it's not as if I can bring the archives."

"But I'd rather have you with me," Jack said, and the glance this time was...different.

Ianto flushed. "I'm not having sex with you while you're driving, in case you wondered."

Jack threw his head back, laughing, and Ianto took a moment to admire the line of his throat.

The road passed by in a blur and Ianto stared out, not really seeing the so-far familiar sight of the edges of Cardiff.

"Have I ever told you--"

"If this is another story about the twin acrobats, I'm not in the mood."

Grinning, Jack shook his head. "No. It's about the time I changed the course of American history by accident."

Ianto blinked. "I'm almost afraid to ask."

"Well, it was a long time ago, long before I met the Doctor, and I was on this US naval vessel off the coast of Cuba--"

* * * * *

Crouching in a storage closet on the USS Maine, Jack sighed. He'd been sent to investigate some strange readings on Earth around 19th century Cuba and he hadn't expected to end up on a ship, which made it a lot harder to creep around, even with his advanced technology. He was dressed to blend in around town, but not on a military vessel.

Wasn't there something funny about being in a closet on Earth? Jack tried to remember as he waited for the two sets of footsteps to disappear around a corner. No, maybe that was a different century, he decided, gently opening the door and peering out. All clear.

He went back to following the readings, which seemed to be somewhere toward the bow of the ship. As he walked, he tried to figure out why he'd been sent with such vague instructions. It was almost certain he hadn't been told something important...although that wasn't anything new. Jack muffled a laugh as he remembered a particular incident involving a hot cup of tea and...

Aha. The readings definitely led here. Jack jumped as the quiet ship was suddenly filled with music, as someone started to play some kind of mournful music. Jack glanced around before pulling his blaster and opening the door marked A-16.

The man lying on the floor near the pile of coal got Jack's attention first, especially because he was bleeding rather profusely. But as Jack took an involuntary step toward the mine, the other inhabitant of the room made his presence known from the shadows, knocking the blaster out of Jack's hand.

The scuffle was short and quiet, as neither Jack nor the slightly scaly alien (Where the heck was he from? And when?) wanted to be interrupted by another one of the locals. Jack kicked the other guy's legs out and dove for the blaster, only to be brought up short by a chokehold. An elbow rammed into some kind of rib approximation got him just enough room to dive again, but his fingers only brushed the blaster before the alien was atop him and they were rolling around the floor.

Distantly, Jack could hear that the music he'd heard had stopped playing, as he got a hand free long enough for a good punch to the face. In a moment he had the blaster in his hand and he was aiming for the alien, but he was just too late, the alien's foot knocking his arm aside.


Which caused the blaster fire to hit the pile of coal. Jack could see the alien's mouth framing something that was undoubtedly an obscenity as Jack swiftly hit the emergency escape button on his wristband, disappearing an instant ahead of the explosion he could see coming toward him.

* * * * *

Leaning against a lamppost in bustling New York, Jack looked at front page of the New York Journal newspaper for February 17, 1898, which he'd bought from a scruffy kid on the street corner. "THE DESTRUCTION OF THE WAR SHIP MAINE WAS THE WORK OF AN ENEMY," the headline screamed above notices of a reward. It looked like war was on its way.

Jack shrugged, tossing the paper into the nearest trashcan and opening his wristband. "That's the timestream for you."

* * * * *

Ianto realized he was staring at Jack with his jaw hanging down, and he swiftly closed his mouth. "You...started the Spanish-American War?"

"Well, the yellow journalists and politicians had something to do with it, but...yes."

"You're unbelievable." Ianto shook his head.

"You don't believe I started the war?" Jack said with an adorable pout.

"I didn't say that. I can absolutely believe that you'd start a war. I just can't believe you let all those men die and you weren't worried about what happened to them."

"Oh, that." Shrugging, Jack swung the SUV through a roundabout at a higher speed than was absolutely necessary. "Well, it took me a while, but I did get around to fixing that. I accumulated some unavoidable corpses over the course of my missions and I went back and exchanged them with the live men on the Maine. Wiped their memories and dropped them in Kansas, Oklahoma, and California, if I remember correctly."

Ianto rubbed his forehead. "Unavoidable corpses?"

"Long story."

"We've got time."

Ianto could see Jack trying not to grin. "There I was on Nebulon III..."

--end--

***