Written for juliet316âs prompt âAuthor's choice, author's choice, armed and dangerous.â at fic_promptly.
The gun goes ‘click’ instead of ‘bang’. Ianto scarcely has time to register that he’s still alive before Jack is ordering him to pursue the man who just tried to kill him. That’s Torchwood, no time for anything but the job at hand until it’s over. Ianto’s the only one in a position to pursue the gunman; that makes it his job. He’s okay with that, action is better than sitting there shaking and thinking ‘What if?’
The man is armed and dangerous; he has a gun that may or may not be out of bullets, and all Ianto has on him right now is a stun gun. But a stun gun in the right hands can be highly effective, and Ianto considers his hands are certainly the right ones. He knows his stun gun inside out, he’s as armed and dangerous right now as the idiot with the gun, and he has a job to do. It doesn’t hurt that he’s royally pissed off right now, anger easily overtaking fear. That doesn’t mean he gets careless, he’s too well trained for that, but the adrenalin is pumping, all Ianto’s senses are razor sharp and his reflexes are faster than ever. These idiots are going down, no two ways about it.
He kicks the door open so fast and sudden that the men in the room don’t get a chance to react. It’s a safe bet that the one who tried to kill him a few minutes ago wasn’t expecting him to follow. Stupid really. It’s obvious who are the professionals and who are the rank amateurs around here.
The one nearest the door when it bursts open goes flying across the room. Ianto’s a blur of motion as he follows, using his stun gun efficiently. One down, one to go. The other man, the one he’s really after, goes for his gun. Ianto’s not having that. A swift kick and the gun sails through the air, clattering to the floor somewhere out of sight. Ianto’s entire focus is on the man before him, now almost cowering in fear. He thinks briefly of his teammates, still in the warehouse with that poor creature, as it thrashes about in agony and fear.
“Pray they survive.” He barely recognises his own voice, it’s so cold and harsh, but he doesn’t flinch as he zaps the guy right between the eyes.
Lights out, sunshine.
They won’t be going anywhere for the time being, and anyway, right now Ianto has more important things to think about. Turning, he walks out of the room, heading back to the main warehouse. The others might need a hand.
Armed and dangerous; it’s all relative really. It’s not the weapon you have that counts; it’s knowing how to use it.