Disclaimers:  I do not own Torchwood or any of it's characters.

Notes:  This mindless story was spawned from a pointless conversation with my roommate.  Inspiration was due to a single line
in the book, "Heroics for Beginners," by John Moore.  'Instead of trying to trick my minion or seduce my assistant, Thunk
tricked my assistant and seduced my minion!'



Of Wizards and Dragons



Owen Harper sat waiting in a filthy pub.  He hated waiting.  Especially when he was forced to wait for his boss.  The man was
driven by food and sex.  And not necessarily in that order.  Not that Owen generally minded, but his appetites often differed
from his boss's idea of a good lay.

But here he was, sitting in a filthy little pub, in an equally filthy little hovel of a town on the outskirts of Hamish, which in and of
itself, was a dismal pit of a county under the rule of Viceroy Fitzgibbons.  There were rumors of the man messing about with
magics, plotting to take over or end the world, and Jack had decided they just had to check it out.  That was his boss.  Jack.  
Jack Harkness, the man who thought with his prick more often than any other man Owen had ever known.  Every other
sentence out of his mouth seemed to be innuendos, or tales of past conquests, some of which Owen just didn't believe.  
Honestly, human bodies just didn't bend that way.  He should know, he was a healer dammit and he'd tried some of those
positions himself, generally ending up with sprains in unpleasant places.

"Twin acrobats," Owen snorted into his mug of ale, recollecting one of Jack's more colorful stories.

"What was that?"

Owen swallowed his mouthful, giving his companion a shake of his head.  "Nothing, Tosh," he replied.  He leaned back in his
chair, tilting it back on two legs.  "How long's it been?"

Toshiko Sato fiddled with her own drink, turning the chipped tankard this way and that.  An elf from the eastern lands, she'd
proven her usefulness to their band of mercenaries time and again over the years.  Owen had no skill at all when it came to
magic.  Jack was little better, but he could at least do minor spells.  He was nowhere in Tosh's league though.  It was in her
blood really.  Oh, she was no warlock or sorceress, but she could work her way around a spell with moderate success.  She
wasn't too good with potions though.

"Three days," Tosh answered with a deep sigh.

Owen echoed the exhalation with one of his own.  Three days.  It was ridiculous.  This shouldn't have taken so long.

Five days ago, the small band of mercenaries had gotten a job.  Rumors were spreading to the far kingdoms that Viceroy
Fitzgibbons was delving into dark magics.  The people were scared, neighboring lords worrying that they were about to be
overtaken by a man leading an army of the undead, or some other such nonsense.  Owen had never met anyone with even a hint
of that kind of power before, didn't think they even existed.  Tosh and her tricks were all well and good, but no one could raise
the dead, or rain down flaming stones from the sky.  He wouldn't even acknowledge the outrageous rumors that dragons were
circling the Viceroy's keep.  There wasn't a man strong enough to sway a dragon to his whims.

Two days after arriving in this crummy little town, Jack had announced his intention to go check out the enemy stronghold.  In
reality, it was a rather large manor-house with a crudely built tower tacked onto the side of it.  It all screamed amateur to Owen,
but even amateurs could be dangerous.  He supposed everyone had to make a start somewhere, even evil conquering warlords.

"What's taking him so long?" Owen grumbled.

They hadn't seen Jack since he'd left.  Not one word had come back from him.  This was hardly anything new.  Jack often left
them hanging in the dark, but he'd never gone so long before.  If it was anything like those other times, Jack would come
breezing in, extolling the talents of their enemy's daughter, or maybe even those of the enemy himself.

Before Tosh could comment, Jack bounded into the practically empty pub.  Tosh was up and out of her chair in an instant,
rushing over and greeting him eagerly.  Owen followed more sedately, feeling more angry than relieved to see their boss.

Jack was all smiles.  He clapped his hands, looking between the two of them with bright, excited eyes.  "Well, we have nothing
to worry about with Viceroy Fitzgibbons," he announced cheerily.

"What are you on about?" Owen demanded.  "And what the bloody hell took so long?"

"Well, I may have gotten caught while snooping around.  It took me a couple days to get loose."

Owen rolled his eyes.  Typical.  "Let me guess, you confused his minion and seduced his daughter to buy your way out?"

"Hardly," came a flat-toned drawl.  A pale young man stepped up behind Jack, tall and thin, barely more than a boy really.  He
wore dark clothes, a heavy cloak covering his shoulders.  "I'm no one's minion."

On Jack's other side, a pretty brunette smiled.  "To Be fair, Edwin Fitzgibbons is my Uncle, not my father."

Jack gestured to the woman with the gap between her front teeth.  "This is Gwen."  He then indicated the young man on his
other side.  "This is Ianto."

Tosh eagerly introduced herself and Owen.  But Owen's mind was on other things.  He looked Gwen up and down, then snorted
derisively.  "So he boffed you to get the key to the cell and you're tagging along like some love-struck simpleton?"

Gwen scoffed.  "Oh, please.  As if.  He might be lush, but I've already got a man."  Her smile widened.  "His name's Rhys."

A door behind Owen opened and as a group they all looked over to see a man step out of the backroom.  He was big man, with
an easy smile that lit up like a torch at the sight of Gwen.  Before anyone could say a thing, Gwen darted past the group and
launched herself at him.  Without a word, the two began sucking each other's faces off.  It didn't seem as if anything else
existed in the world for them.

"I take it that's Rhys," Tosh commented.

By the way she was kissing the man, no one could think of a reason to disagree.  "Yeah, well, apparently Uncle Edwin wanted
better for his only niece.  And a cook in a pub wasn't it.  She was thankful when I let her out of the cell next to mine," Jack said.

Owen spun, narrowing his eyes at Jack.  "How'd you get out then?  And what's with the kid?  And how the hell do you know
that Fitzgibbons isn't a threat anymore?  What did you do?"

To Owen's annoyance, Jack's grin only widened.  He ignored the first two questions and settled on the third.  "Fitzgibbons isn't a
threat anymore, because he never was a threat.  The man has no power whatsoever."

"What?" Tosh gasped.  "But all those rumors!  What about the fire raining from the sky?  Or the violent storms?  And what
about the typhoon that struck Marita Island?  Or the dead rising from the grave?  Fitzgibbons claimed responsibility for all of
those."

"He didn't do any of it," Jack said plainly.  He clapped his hand on the young man - on Ianto's - shoulder.  "Ianto did it all."

There was a frail blush on the youth's cheeks.  "To be fair, I had nothing to do with the typhoon."  He cleared his throat.  "And
the dead only stayed animated for an hour.  And well ... I made sure the fire rained only over the sea and no one died in the
storms."

Owen coughed, choking on air.  He couldn't believe this.  This KID was responsible?  "And what about the dragons?" He asked
incredulously.

"Ah, well, that was true," Ianto said.  Something moved beneath Ianto's cloak at his back, a sleek nose pushing aside the fabric
and creeping out from beneath his arm.  To Owen's shock, he watched as a body the size of a medium-sized dog crawled out
from behind Ianto, curling a long tail about his body as it nuzzled a scaled head under the pale man's chin, claws digging into
tunic near his shoulders and gripping at his waist.  "But she's only a baby."  He pet the fine, shimmering silver scales, prying a
sound not unlike a deeper version of a cat's purr from the creature.

Tosh cooed, darting forward.  "May I?" she asked, hands hovering over the strange beast.

Ianto inclined his head and Tosh was lost to them all, running her hands sweetly over the beast's scales.  "Her name's Myfanwy."

Owen seemed to be the only one to possess any sense.  "A dragon?  You're carting around a bloody dragon?  You can't tame
dragons!"

A single eyebrow raised in his direction.  "Who told you that rubbish?" Ianto snapped.  "I'll have you know, my family has been
raising dragons for centuries."

Tosh eventually stepped back.  She patted Owen's arm in a mockery of sympathy.  Then she turned her focus back on Jack.  
"So how'd you get away then?  You said Gwen was in a cell, surely she couldn't get you a key then."

"Well," Jack started, eyes darting over to Ianto.

Ianto's creeping blush was answer enough for Owen.

"Oh, my God," Owen spat.  He threw his arms up, not sure how much of this he could take.

Jack was grinning again.  "I appealed to Ianto's better nature and offered him a job."

Tosh giggled.  "That must have been some persuasive proposition.  So what made you want to take up with a bunch of
mercenaries, Ianto?  We'll hardly bring you fame or fortune."

Ianto's blush darkened.  "I was never one for fame.  Or fortune.  However, Jack's offer did include some interesting perks."

True to his nature, Jack immediately raised a hand and excitedly announced.  "I'm a perk!"

Owen groaned and slapped his hands over his eyes, certain he was never going to get the disgusting mental images out of his
mind.  "I need a drink," he declared.



The End