Title: On Her Majesty's Secret Service
By: protoplasmica
Summary: for the 'undercover' challenge.
Fandoms: james bond/torchwood
Pairing: gen, jack, ianto

***

"It is quite evident that your past, or rather your lack of one, will cause complications." M said over tea and crumpets at the Savoy. "I don't like complications Jones, and MI6 likes them even less." She paused to butter a crumpet. "Give me one good reason to overcome my reservations."

"I would die for MI6." At M's raised eyebrow, Jones smiled hesitantly. "I really would Ma'am."

--

Jones' file was dropped onto M's desk with a quick 'I think you should read this' within two days of his beginning Initial Ops Training. To say his progress reports read as amazing was an understatement; Jones could load a gun in two seconds, hit a bulls eye in three, pull apart a nuclear bomb in fifty seconds and (perhaps most shockingly) put it back together in under a minute.

"Jones is quite remarkable," M said over dinner at the Ivy, hand poised over Jones' file. "I have never seen a new recruit, much less a secretary, with such systematic knowledge of modern warfare."

"How Yvonne Hartman chose to train her administrative staff is of no concern to me." Jack glanced at his watch. "Was there a point to this meeting or did you bring me to London to discuss a remarkable secretary?"

"Have you ever known me to suffer your company for anything less than an issue of national emergency, Harkness? Of course there's a bloody point." M pushed Jones' file forward using her fingertips. "Jones isn't human."

--

"My name's Ianto Jones," Jones hissed when M unlocked the door to his cell. The boy was hunched over on a metal chair, chains crisscrossed across the remains of a bloodstained three piece suit. "My MI6 designation is 0024. I serve Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth the Second."

"Welsh," M smiled thinly at Jack's puzzled expression. "I have obtained the finest torture specialists across sixteen military agencies to help me with this boy, but they haven't even been able to get him to speak English."

Jack walked over to Jones and gently tugged at his hair to reveal a face that was bruised almost beyond recognition. "What do you want to know?" He tenderly wiped a tear from the boy's swollen cheek.

"MI6 is of the opinion that Jones is on an intelligence gathering mission for an unknown organisation. I want you to tell me the name and purpose of this organisation and why they think sending alien spies to Britain is a good idea."

"What happens to him afterwards?"

"Jones will be disposed of." At Jack's flinch, M frowned. "We can't have aliens running loose in London, Harkness. What would the Prime Minister think?"

--
"My name's Ianto Jones." Jones whispered as his eyes tracked Jack's every move in the tiny cell. The cells at MI6 HQ were unlike the cells at the Hub in Cardiff; they were too large, too white, and far too impersonal for Jack's liking. He preferred his prisons dank and dingy with mildew dripping off the walls and medieval torture devices rusting on the ground. "My MI6 designation..."

"I know all about your three months with Her Majesty's finest." Jack smiled as he waved Jones' personnel file at him. "I have your Torchwood One file too. I know you spent seven years working for Yvonne Hartman and her cronies."

Jack walked slowly over to Jones and crouched down to meet his eyes. Jones had beautiful eyes, large and open and more suited to a butter-wouldn't-melt-in-his-mouth public schoolboy rather than a suspected terrorist. They widened until the irises turned black when Jack pulled out a photograph from Jones' file. "It says in your file that you won your MI6 designation by convincing M that you would die for queen and country. Personally, I find that very hard to believe when you couldn't even die for your fiance." Jack examined Jones' reaction. "What was her name again?"

"Lisa." Jones whispered softly, chanting the name under his breath like a prayer. "Lisa. Oh God. Lisa."

--

"I wanted to die." Jones sobbed into Jack's shoulder. "I stood in front of her when the aliens shot us but I woke up. I woke up and everything was gone. Yvonne, Torchwood, Lisa"¦" He keened when Jack pressed his lips against his neck. "Lisa said she loved me. I loved her too. I loved her a lot."

"You're not human." Jack said softly.

"I am in every way that counts!" Jones hissed, pulling away from Jack to peer at him through swollen eyes. "I was born in Cardiff; I have a National Insurance number, a passport. I have always paid my fucking taxes and I was going to marry Lisa." He lowered his eyes to her photograph. "We were going to start a family."

--

"Well," M said over breakfast at a greasy spoon in Holborn. "Don't keep me in suspense. What is he?"

"Jones is definitely alien." Jack smirked as he poured tea into two cups. One was chipped and lime green, and the other was blue with three teaspoons of Retcon inside. "But you don't need to worry about him any more, M." He said as he handed M the blue cup. "If it's alien it's ours, remember?"

"Unfortunately I do." M sighed. "It's a pity though; Jones would have made a very good agent."

"I'm sure he will." Jack smiled as he sipped from his cup. If M noticed his slip she didn't mention it and they continued to eat breakfast relatively peacefully.

***