Chapter Text
Jack shakes out his hands to get rid of the nervous energy pooling in him, doing a little bounce as the elevator approaches the top of the station. The hardest part is over at least. He's wearing a nice COI issued bomber jacket, loaned to him by Ava's second in command David to make Jack look more important or whatever. Jack checks again that the chip is in his breast pocket. It's a receipt for more money than he's ever had at once, and it makes his hands sweat all over again just thinking about it.
The elevator reaches the top with a soft ding. The doors slide open with a smooth sound. Weirdly, it opens to just a sort of antechamber. An officer is stationed outside, reading something on his communicator and sitting relaxed in a chair next to a large metal door.
"I'm here to pick up an asset," Jack says, managing to keep his voice from wavering.
"You got the slip?"
Jack shows him. The officer scans it, sliding it through his communicator with a beep. He scans the information and nods with a grunt. Jack breathes out slowly. The bouncer hands him the chip back and pushes a button next to him.
"They're using him," the guard says. "But it's near the end of the night." He smirks at Jack. "Shouldn't be a problem for you, right?"
Jack swallows the urge to snarl at him. Instead he just waits for the door to slide open. As it does he's hit with the strongest smell of pheromones he's dealt with since being a teenager in the barracks. Jack steps inside, looking around.
The penthouse is almost obnoxiously opulent. Couches and chairs covered in velvet, and a variety of contraptions Jack doesn't want to think about. Alphas and omegas and betas are draped over every available surface, many seeming to be winding down and smoking or drinking and talking. Jack passes a couple of alphas chatting to each other idly as the omega on each of their laps whimper softly. Jack just breathes, pushing forward.
It isn't hard to find the alpha Ava told Jack he was looking for. He's on a dias, slightly raised against one wall. Jack takes a shaky breath. The alpha is beautiful, even under the dim light and through Jack's personal fear. He's rigged up pretty expertly, blood red ropes keeping him bent over and half suspended, creating a delicate spiderweb of rope across tanned skin and tense muscles. He's collared, a thick black band made of what appears to be leather. His head is down slightly, leaving his face hidden behind a curtain of feathery dark hair. Jack can see the ropes creak with every breath the alpha takes. Jack wrinkles his nose instinctively. The alpha smells of sex, but also something sour and acrid, like blood and rotting meat.
Another alpha is standing next to him, half dressed in an unbuttoned shirt and loose slacks with the belt unbuckled. He's smoking a cigarette, the cloying scent of tobacco and mint further clouding the air with cacophonous scents. Hes got spiky blond hair and grey eyes, a scar through his lip catching the light. The alpha smirks.
"Jack, is it?" the alpha asks, blowing a cloud of smoke in Jack's direction.
"Yeah," Jack says, as casually as he can. "I'm here for the alpha."
"Sorry we couldn't resist taking him for one more spin," the alpha says in a tone that very much says he's not sorry. He turns to the left after taking another drag, barking out for another man. "Jimmy! Come untie the bitch. His new owner's here."
Jack resists the urge to snarl at him too. Jesus christ. The longer Jack's in this room the more he can feel his hackles going up. The guy, Jimmy, is some rat-faced beta with lank brown hair. He unties the alpha slowly, lowering him to the floor first and then loosening all the knots. The alpha stays perfectly still, eyes still on the floor. Jimmy finishes by grabbing a muzzle off the hook behind them, fastening it over the alpha's face.
"Get up," the blond alpha commands.
The alpha on the floor tries to comply, but it's clear the feeling hasn't fully come back to his limbs yet. And his hands are still tied behind his back. The alpha manages to stand eventually, and Jack can see his face, even as half of it is covered by the opaque plastic muzzle. He's got dark, hooded eyes, slightly downturned, a nose crooked from being broken too many times. He's got a scar on his neck, dark ink haphazardly poking out from underneath the jagged pale skin. And another, under his right pectoral. The sigil of the COI. He's also tall, nearly a foot taller than Jack. But still, silent as the grave. The blond asshole alpha grabs a chain leash from the rack where the muzzle was. He throws it at Jack, who very nearly doesn't catch it.
"You'll need this," he says with a barely stifled chuckle.
Jack fumbles with the clasp once before reaching up to clip it to the ring in the alpha's collar. He bows his head to make it easier, and Jack can smell more of his pheromones. He smells like blood and tar. Jack lets out another breath.
"We're going now." Jack says it firmly.
The alpha waves condescendingly. "Good luck."
Jack walks the alpha across the room, clenching his jaw as he sees from the corner of his eye the way heads turn towards them. Jack gets to the door before realizing he doesn't know how to get out. He settles for just banging on it. That works, somehow, and the guard lets them back out.
The officer wolf whistles as he sees the alpha following Jack like a dog. Jack doesn't pay him any mind and keeps walking, the chain heavy and cold as ice in his hand. David is waiting next to the transport ship in the hangar, arms folded. His eyes widen when he sees the alpha following behind Jack.
"Christ," David says. "He's huge."
Jack doesn't ask what part of the alpha's stature David is commenting on. He just sighs and shakes his hands again, making the chain rattle.
"Can we just go?" Jack says. "I want to offload this guy onto Ava's crew and be done for the day."
David nods. He pops the door of their little transport ship open and they all crowd in after Jack gets the guys hands untied. Its an old escape pod, refitted by Jack himself a couple years ago for short shuttles between larger ships. Ava's rig is docked not too far away, only a half hour or so. David buckles himself in the cockpit, leaving Jack and the alpha in the back. The ship has two lines of bench seats in the back, with the old clunky overhead restraints, three on each side. Jack takes one side and the alpha copies him on the other side. Jack pulls the bars down from above, ratcheting them down with a click. The alpha watches him closely and then mirrors Jack's motions.
Jack realizes he doesn't know the guys name even. And now there's about a foot between their knees, a two hour journey in front of them, and air that's starting to smell a lot like old blood, tar, and sex. Jack tears his eyes away from the alpha's dark eyes and turns towards the cockpit.
"David?" Jack calls to the front. David is getting them cleared to go, flicking levers and shit.
"What?" he calls back. David gestures something at the signalman and the ship is taxiing towards the airlock.
"Does this big fella have a name?"
David flicks a couple more levers. The pod picks up speed. "Uh… fuck hold on."
The first of the airlock doors is opening. David tosses a folder into the back. It's gravity-proofed, a bunch of plastic pages in a clamshell case. The first airlock doors close behind them with a clunk. The pod is shaking now, and if Jack didn't weld the thing together himself his heart would be in his throat. As it is he tries to wrestle the clasp open to get into the folder. The second airlock closes behind them. Jack gives up trying to open the damn thing until they get out of the station's gravity and he can ask for David's help.
Jack tries to occupy himself somehow that doesn't involve looking at the alpha. He isn't a prude or anything but… Look the guy is built like some sort of sculpture and Jack really doesn't want to be ogling the man they just rescued. He just wants to get this favor over with and go to bed. Finally they're out into more stable space and Jack lets the folder float back into the cockpit.
"Have your stupid folder back," Jack huffs, crossing his arms a little awkwardly over the shoulder harness.
David laughs, that silly cackle he does. He engages the auto-pilot and clicks open the clasp with no trouble. He leafs through them a little before voicing anything.
"Ugh that's so dumb," David says, showing Jack. The pages are holo-documents, an alternative to paper that use internal diffusers to scatter and focus light so you can see the words. And a bunch of shit is blacked out. "They're locked."
"They locked his name?" Jack asks.
"I guess!" David says, putting the holo-docs back in their case and tossing the whole thing in frustration, where it simply floats in a serene straight line to the floor with a soft thunk.
The journey is awkward, filled only with the staticky music coming out of the pod's radio and the hum of the engine carrying them through the vacuum of space. It's not cold thanks to the engine, but it is empty. Jack breathes an almost deafeningly loud sigh of relief as he feels the pod shudder into the Felliciette's gravity. Jack watches the alpha's feathery hair settle from a halo to just hanging limply around his shoulders again. David puts his headphones back on.
"Captain Nashira," David says into the microphone, "Captain Nashira this is the Flea, David Hart six five eight seven dash nine eight, request to dock."
"David I know it's you," Ava's voice comes through the ship's radio. "You're cleared to dock. Obviously."
"Just checking all the boxes, Cap," David says. Ava's sigh is audible over the tinny radio.
The Feliciette is a good ship, not as big as some of the destroyer class or as flashy as the one they just departed from, but a good old ship. One of the last built on Earth before they started outsourcing. They clank down into the airlock, taxiing through the two sets of doors and into the main hangar. Jack undoes his shoulder-bar but sees the alpha struggling so he sighs, leaning across to help him.
"Here, I got it," Jack says with a sigh. The alpha goes still. This close Jack can see that cum has leaked onto the seat. He takes a breath in, just as the alpha raises his hands, shaking slightly.
"I'm sorry," he says in the softest, raspiest voice Jack's heard maybe ever, his breath causing the muzzle to fog up.
"It's okay," Jack says, swallowing thickly. He backs up, realizing how close he is to the alpha.
David gets them parked and pops the side door open. Ava is waiting with one of the medics, a stern alpha named Henrik with salt-and-pepper grey hair and thick-rimmed black glasses.
"Jack was asking what his name was," David says. He's stretching, yawning as he raises his hands above his head. "The folders are all blacked out."
"Yeah," Ava says, turning her good eye to look at Jack and the alpha. "Best I can figure is they called him The Butcher."
Jack watches like a switch flips in the alpha's mind. He snarls, vaulting out of the open door and past Jack, going straight for Henrik and Ava. Ava pushes Henrik out of the way where he slides to one side, impacting one of the other transport pods with a soft oomph, David going after him to make sure the Doctor is okay. The alpha is on Ava in the next moment, unable to bite her but still clawing at her. He isn't trying to punch her, but claw. Like a feral animal. Ava rolls back with his momentum, using it to push him up and over her into the nearest wall.
"Stand down!" Ava snarls. She whips out her stun-rod, the telescoping taser snapping out with a blue crackle. The air smells like salt and rock, Ava's scent mixed with the alpha's tar and blood.
"Wait hold on," Jack says. It's stupid, maybe, to make himself known in this scenario, but he feels like… Jesus he doesn't want to see this guy get tased.
The alpha stops, going from a defensive crouch to his knees, still panting, bleeding slightly from a cut on his forehead. Jack can see his eyes. They're not agressive, hes seen more than one angry alpha before. They look… scared.
"I am the captain of this ship," Ava says to the alpha. "We're trying to help you, but you have to listen."
"They really are trying to help," Jack says, trying to make himself sound as sincere as possible. Then adds, from experience. "Come on, she really will tase you. Call it off."
The alpha relaxes, slumping down almost defeatedly. Ava collapses her taser, coming closer. She takes a pair of safety cuffs from her belt and the alpha lets her manhandle them in front of him, almost like a life size doll.
"Henrik is out for the night," David says, "He's not too hurt but he says he needs a whiskey before he does anything else."
Ava growls and rolls her eye, but Jack can tell it's more a grumble than anything serious. Still the alpha flinches. Jack sees him bare his throat, even behind the thick collar.
"Jack," Ava says. "Can you take him for the night?"
"Me?!" Jack squeaks, then clears his throat. "I mean… don't you have someone lined up to take him?"
"They aren't here until tomorrow," Ava says with a frown. "Henrik was going to monitor him for tonight."
"Jesus Mary Joseph," Jack says with a hiss. "Okay. Fine. Also can we get the fuckin bastard's name already?"
"I'll work on it," Ava says. She hands him the leash, which Jack is getting really tired of holding.
Jack sighs. Ava walks towards where Henrik is sitting on the floor, polishing his glasses and looking disgruntled. He turns to the alpha, who isn't looking at him.
"Alright," Jack says with a sigh. "Guess you're bunking with me. Come on, up you get."
The alpha stands slowly, shakily. Jack hates holding the chain, but he feels like it's a bit too soon after the guy tried to maul Ava for him to fully want to put it down. The ship is empty, since it's the ass-crack of dawn, the only sound being the clunk of Jack's boots and the silent footsteps of the alpha behind him. Finally they get to his block, which Jack unlocks with his handprint.
His apartment is small, utilitarian. There's a kitchenette, just enough shit to make coffee if he wants it, a couch and a TV in this room, and two doors, one to Jack's bedroom and one to the bathroom. Jack's more thankful for the futon than ever, especially since he's been considering getting rid of it.
"There's… There's not much to show you," Jack says, both of them standing awkwardly by the door. "Bathroom is that door. Uh… feel free to clean yourself up I guess. The futon's all yours. The door won't open except to my handprint so just…" Jack scrubs his face with one hand. "I'm going to bed."
Jack unclips the chain from the alpha's neck. The alpha leans down to let him have a better grip on the clasp, and while he's at it Jack decides fuck it and undoes the guy's muzzle too. Jack's never been known to make good decisions, and besides… he can't get the look in the alpha's eyes out of his mind. The guy might have tried to attack Ava but… Jack sets his jaw.
"Please don't kill me in my sleep," Jack says. The alpha doesn't answer. Jack turns around with a huff.
"I won't." Jack stops in his tracks. The alpha's voice is deep, coarse as gravel, more than the whisper it was on the Flea. "And… my name's Simon."
"Well I'm Jack," Jack says, trying to remember if he introduced himself or not. "So… good night Simon."
Simon nods. Jack goes into his bedroom, locking the door behind him. He flops down on his bed with a grunt. Christ almighty Jackie-boy. What have you gotten yourself into now.