Hey guys - I'm baaaaack! :) After having been on a diet of chocolate and no writing for the past two months, I am fanficing with a vengence! It actually felt so great writing this, seriously. I'm looking to develop this into a full blown story, as this is just the prologue (sorta), but like always it depends entirely on what everyone thinks of it. So, please read and review because, you know, I love every comment that isn't a flamer. :) x

'Get out. Now.'

The words came from Jack's mouth. Spat with venom at the figure in front of him. One whose every cell was becoming increasingly difficult to gaze upon, let alone look it in the eyes. Jack never thought it would come to this, never in all of his immortal existence. The emotional turmoil was unbearable. His intentions would haunt him for the rest of his days. But he had to do it. He couldn't allow it to go any further.

'You wouldn't shoot me Jack. I know you.' It purred oh-so-softly; seductively dangerous. Jack refused falter; forcing himself not to bolt for the invisible lift.

'Final warning.' It came out cold.

Now Jack really couldn't look into those eyes. Feeling physically sick and tasting vomit at his throat, there was a click as he released the safety mechanism from his Webley Mark IV. There was no going back from here.

'Jack, mate. You don't have to do this. Put the gun down and we'll talk this out.' A strong cockney drawl, with an edge; Owen. The usually casual and devil-may-care medic had a strangely serious and threatening tone to his voice. He was causing Jack to panic; he defied his leader by doing so. Owen had led a mutiny against Jack once; it could easy happen again. Maybe he should kill Owen too? Jack's aim wavered, but no. Owen was clueless. He didn't know what Jack was going through.

'Trust me, I do.' That shut Owen up. Like a slap in to face, it was easy to bring up that old issue. But Jack didn't trust himself.

There was a tug at his hand as Toshiko desperately tried to pull him away. In his peripheral line of vision Jack could see that the Japanese woman was utterly terrified; reduced to a sobbing wreck of a girl by the scene to which she bared witness. With a sharp intake of breath, Jack wished he could feel the same in a futile attempt to replace the confusion and contempt which filled his every pore. He stood his ground and the girl relented, collapsing in a shaking mess of displaced mascara and smeared foundation, in full knowledge of what Jack was about to do.

'Please Jack! Stop!' With all the pathetic force and welsh enunciation she could muster, Gwen Cooper stumbled in front of him. How dare she block his aim! For all her leathers, she looked about as weak as a kitten; easily overwhelmed. Jack struck her with his free hand and she joined Toshiko upon the floor, albeit barely conscious.

'So, Jack? You going to do it then? I know you want to.' The figure sneered at him, evidently enjoying every moment of Jack's displeasure.

Jack's finger retracted, moving slowly towards the trigger; millimetre by millimetre, although it seemed like miles. Jack felt like he was at the end of a very long tunnel and this, creature, was blocking the light. He needed that light, yet he faltered. His hesitation did not go unmissed. A flicker of a smirk clearly showed this.

'Aw, does the freak have feelings? Let's think about this then, shall we?' A mocking, babyish voice; it patronised him. 'Does he not want to do it? Is he weak? Is he in love?'

Jack was at breaking point. His heart was pounding; his in tears mingled fear and adrenaline. The moment had come, but he wasn't ready. Jack couldn't stand the pain, not again. Yet he needed this to work; he only had one vital bullet in the gun. It was just the two of them. The death needed to happen. The weight of responsibility thundered through his head and he closed his eyes for a fraction of a second.

'It's been thought about.'

With a silent apology and a flare of emotion, Jack pulled the trigger. The bullet spiralled out to astonished screams, relentlessly tearing through flesh and muscle. As it pierced the heart in a fountain of hot blood, Jack felt his own shatter. Bones breaking with a deafening crack, the murder weapon reached its exit wound.

Simultaneously, there were two thumps upon the ground; as the pale and shaking figure of Captain Jack Harkness collapsed to his knees, the corpse of Ianto Jones lay strewn across the fountain floor.

Review if you love me (or hate me). MC. x