Pairings: Jack/Gwen, Jack/Ianto (past)
Length: 545 words
Warnings: This does describe a current relationship between Jack and Gwen, I don't like it any more than you do but there it is. This is angst ridden and not nice to anybody.
Summary: Life at Torchwood 5 for Jack. Set during our hypothetical Series 4 in America.
A/N: Thanks to my fabulous beta <lj user="amuly"> for helping me with the grammar bits and getting my flow on! I didn't intend for my first foray back into fandom to be a) this short and b) this angsty but I guess that's where my head was. Enjoy!
A/N 2.0: I know none of you would but please done repost to FB or twitter, I love your comments (and haven't gotten a DW account yet) and would hate to have to disable them!
Now That You’re Gone
Gwen was wearing her hair short these days. Really that was an understatement: she had basically chopped it all off. She thought it made her look like Keira Knightley; Jack thought it made her look like Rosie O’Donnell, and not during the good years. But he didn’t say anything, and in fact he told her it made her face look slimmer. She had glowed and went to call Rhys. Life in America was different; perfect for Jack, who was different too. Gone was the concerned leader, the caring friend, the good man. In his place was a field agent who happened to have no one to report to, a man who fucked the wife of someone who he considered, if not a friend, a good man. Yes life here in America was definitely different, they’d been working here for about 6 months while Torchwood 5, as they were calling it, had taken root and grown. He didn’t know much about the other people he worked with other than what they chose to share around the office. Jack preferred it this way, he’d learned his lesson. No more getting involved, no more getting close. Do the job, try and protect people, try to block the voices out of his head. Those voices, which he couldn’t bring himself to put names to, were the ones that told him it was wrong. Wrong how he was living his life, going day to day without caring if one of his team had gotten hurt or killed. Wrong to go home to a blank apartment and when Gwen knocks at his door open it knowing that they’ll end up in bed together. And know when he fucks her from behind and he’ll see that short dark hair and imagine it’s another head, another body he’s taking his pleasure from. And if he cries out for another when he comes, Gwen never says anything. The first time they had slept together, they had been in the states for about a month, and after she had tried to cuddle up to him, basking in the afterglow. Jack had quickly put that thought out of her mind, rolling over and telling her that if she would lock up on her way out that would be great. He wasn’t sure if that would be an end to their affair, hoped that Gwen wouldn’t be capable of using him like he was so obviously using her. But he still wasn’t surprised when she knocked on his door the next night. And when she was on the phone with Rhys, she told him she loved him and missed him, all the while sneaking her hand up Jack’s thigh. Though he knew he should stop, make her go home to her husband and child, he can’t. Because when he asks she’ll lower her voice and call him sir and… god he’s sick. And he knows that if he were here that Ianto - whose voice it is yelling in his head, whose name he can barely think of without crying- would kick his ass. But Ianto is not here, another thing that Jack can add to the list of things to punish himself over. But not tonight. Tonight he’s already drunk and there’s a knock on his door.