Title: Premeditated
By: noxx22000
Paring: Jack/Ianto & Jack/Doctor
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Dark... Character Death. The team are forced to take drastic action when Jack's behaviour deteriorates after every visit he has with the Doctor...The Doctor is given an option he doesn't take.

***

"Can I buy you a drink?" The Doctor looked up to see the blue eyes that belonged to the Welsh voice and he shrugged.

"Sure, why not. Can always use another one."

The Doctor's already drunk enough that he doesn't notice the Welshman nodding to the Londoner behind the bar, or the tablet being dropped in his drink.

The men drank, the Japanese woman down the bar kept glancing their way and the newlyweds playing pool flicked their eyes towards them.

Blue eyes leads him to the almost non-existent dance floor, they take a few drunken steps, not noticing blue eyes is faking. Having only had one drink to summon up the Dutch courage. He presses the Doctor flush against the wall, his knee parting the other man's legs.

"You're going to leave this planet Doctor." He whispers, "And you're never coming back."

"Will too…" he mumbled, "have friends."

"No, you have companions… and I won't let you hurt them anymore. This is your one chance-" he's cut off by the tall man with the rumpled suit and the glasses he doesn't need leaning forward and kissing him.

It's over in an instant and as the Doctor pulls away he can taste the stardust on his tongue, the Doctor's brow creases, "You taste like Jack…"

"And I won't let you hurt him anymore." He hissed.

'It's his choice." The Doctor grunts as he breaks free, heading for the exit, "He's wrong… just likes to thrust his existence on everyone else."

Anger flared up inside him and the young man followed the Doctor out into the rainy Cardiff night, the collar of his jacket upturned trying to provide some shelter as he tugged on his gloves.

The Doctor stops in front of a blue police box hiding in an alleyway and that's when he strikes, shoving the man against the wall, his hand around his throat. The blue box behind them hums its disapproval. But he won't be deterred and a rhythm plays out against the Doctor's neck as the grip tightens.

"What would you know? 'The Oncoming Storm?' You bring death everywhere you go."

"I help-" he croaks.

"Not that I've seen." He snarls, "Not in any life have I seen you help." He spits, anger from memories that don't belong to him spill over and he watches the light begin to fade completely from the ancient being's eyes knowing that there will be no regeneration after this death. Owen's pill has seen to that.

The drums reach their crescendo and he leans forward, whispering in the Doctor's ear, "I win."

***