The John Hart Solution

AKA How John can solve all problems. Does exactly as it says on the tin. You suggest an issue in Torchwood/Doctor Who/Real Life, and I shall attempt to make all well utilizing one Captain John Hart in a creative manner. And please no "soandso needs a date" things… First Chapter: CoE fix-it.

Disclaimer: No, RTD got a sex change, then stole the Lazarus machine, made him/herself sixteen and hormonal, then moved into rural east-coast America. Yep, that tots happened.

I told you I would be starting a new fic. So, I will need support/suggestions. Also, do you want it to be a big or small solution (demonstrated by the first two chapters).



Chapter One: Small CoE Fix-It; Day 1.5

John groaned, more than annoyed as his wrist strap stared to bleep at him.

"What the hell is that?" a bleary Welsh voice demanded from the bed next to him.

'Fucking aliens.' John thought, snarling quietly as he propped himself on one elbow. Too tired to actually be bothered opening his wrist strap the normal way, 'not even Jack is up this early, Damnnit,' he pulled the cover off with his teeth.

"Only the end of the bleeding world." John growled at the readings, then changing into a put-upon sigh. "Seems I'm needed. Again."

"No, you're not." Andy contradicted, grabbing whatever part of his Boyfriend was closest. This turned out to be his elbow. "You are staying here, and keeping me warm, and the world can fucking end."

John sighed, rolling his eyes at the younger man.

"I know, but then I won't be able to take you out to dinner at that little American place that you've wanted to try, since the world will have ended, won't it?"

"I hate it when you make sense." The blond PC muttered

"No you don't." John chuckled, pressing a kiss to his bedmate's messy hair, before regrettably leaving the warmth of their shared bed. He got dressed quickly, finding that he quite enjoyed knowing that Andy was watching as he hopped on one foot to get into his jeans.

"Enjoying the show?" he asked cheekily, turning back to the other man as he strapped on his katana. The gun holsters could wait.

Despite still having a lingering coating of sleep, a devious spark could be seen in the Constable's eyes.

"Do that every morning and I might become a fan of waking up." He replied cheekily, propping himself up on one elbow, and letting the sheets slide down off his chest. John visibly shuddered with the effort of not stripping and jumping whole-heartedly (pun fully intended) back into bed.

"Tempter." He accused, with absolutely no malice in his voice.

"You love it." Andy teased John with a coy smile.

"That I do." John replied, smirking. "That I do." With that, he turned back to the closet, pulling out a rather large cardboard box. Of course, Andy had not been pleased with John stashing his artillery in their closet, saying it was too obvious, but in the end, as always, John got his way.

"Scoot." He ordered, pulling what looked like a larger version of an Ipad out of the box. Reluctantly, Andy moved to make room for John on the bed once more.

"What is it?" he asked, as his boyfriend reclaimed his seat.

"I dunno." John replied, fiddling with the buttons and typing rapidly on the scrolling images. Andy realized he really needed to at least learn the Romanization of John's language.

"See here?" he gestured to the screen, finally showing some kind of map. "There was a massive energy spike, I'd go so far as to say it was a teleport, at six fifty-seven Am, at…" John rattled off a series of coordinated, which clearly made sense to him.

"So where is that?" Andy asked, intrigued. The map John was looking at seemed to be a 3D diagram of Part of Europe.

"Somewhere in London…" John muttered, resuming his typing at a furious pace. Andy wondered briefly why Jack hadn't hired him in the aftermath of the 'Gray incident'. John was as reverential about technology as Tosh had been, and he was sure that the ex time agent would be an excellent fit within the broken team. But that wasn't his concern.

"It's near that big stream you lot have…" John continued dismissively, focused on tracking the signal. Andy scoffed.

"One, It's not my lot. I'm Welsh, thank you. And two, that 'stream' is the biggest river in England."

"Really. Looks pretty small from space." John commented. "There! Forty three feet above sea level, so top floor, building number…" he fiddled with the controls. "… It's in the Thames house."

"Great." Andy replied sarcastically.

"Could be worse."

"How could it be worse John?"

"They could have proper firewalls." John answered with a smirk, which simply caused Andy to roll his eyes again.

"You hacked into MI-5? Seriously?"

"Well, you know what they say." John shrugged, getting a good look at what he was dealing with. "Know your enemy."

"I'm not sure that applies to this situation, John." Andy tried to sound disapproving.

"You can arrest me later." John assured him, clearly busy doing mental calculations about tensile strength and energy discharge.

"Oh really." Andy smirked, thinking that he would be within his rights as an officer to put John under house arrest for an indefinite period of time.

John paused his typing, fixing Andy with an odd look. "Something tells me you aren't thinking about sticking me in the County Jail."

"No, I was thinking a more… personal punishment." Andy grinned, tracing the hem of John's jeans. John chuckled, sorely tempted to ignore the rest of the planet and let Andy do whatever he was planning. But the world sort-of needed to survive for him to be born. So…

"As tempting as that is, Andy, I really need to get back to the bad aliens." John gently removed Andy's hand from his leg. As the younger man pouted, John slid back to the floor, unceremoniously upending the contents of the box on the floor.

Andy seemed worried when John came back from the pile with the disabled explosive which may have been attached to his wrist a little over a year ago.

"You said that thing was better left buried." Andy pointed out, sitting up in bed. John gave a half-grimace half-smile.

"I said that before Aliens tried taking my ancestors." John corrected him.


Several hours later, Andy was dressed and John held a messenger bag. As John worked on what he carried, Andy had been called by the department, requesting all able officers to the station.

"Don't say anything, alright?" John instructed, giving his hand an affectionate squeeze. Andy rolled his eyes.

"Of course John, I'm going to walk into the station and announce that my boyfriend, who happens to be from the future, is going to bomb the top floor of the MI-5 building in order to get rid of a group of aliens. Do you think I want to live in an insane asylum?"

John smirked. "Just being careful."

With that, he pressed a kiss to Andy's lips, before stepping back, already typing the coordinates into his manipulator.

"Be back before you know it." He promised with a wink, disappearing into the thin air of Andy's flat.

When he re-materialized, he was on the eighth floor of the Thames house.

"Great." He muttered, running down the hallway in search of a staircase. As he ran, he pulled every fire alarm he could find. If he was right about these bogeys, then it was better that nobody was in the building. He didn't even consider that he was highly memorable, and several dozen witnesses ran past him every second, and he was about to blow up a good portion of the upper floors.

Never once did he think that he would actually get arrested.

But that's for the future. Right now, John was tearing up the staircases, taking them two at a time and smashing glass covers on alarms as he want. Try as he might, he couldn't shake the concern that rushed through him as his bag bounced around wildly.

'I am totally breaking ever explosives handling class in history.' He thought as he finally ran out onto the thirteenth floor.

Settling himself, John recovered from his long run outside the door, behind which was apparently a pair of aliens. And not the nice kind. If they were going to take him seriously, John had to be in full on Time Agent mode. The Agency had developed a reputation for itself of cruelty, mercilessness and torture. No creature in their right minds crossed a time agent.

John only hoped that the bastards were sane.

"What are you?" the whatever it was asked the instant John stepped into the room. He smiled coyly. Clearly they could tell that he wasn't like any of the humans they had come across in the past.

"Captain John Hart." He replied smoothly. "And you are mining a class 5 planet."

"It is not mining." The disembodied voice answered. "It is harvesting."

John snorted. "Not according to the Shadow Proclamation it isn't."

The aliens were silent, seeming to wait to see what he had to say. John smirked.

"Oh, but you have no idea." He chuckled. "You have no Idea that I know who you are. I know what you've done. And I know that it stops here." His voice turned serious. "Macra."

The alien threw itself against the glass, spewing fluids and screeching in anger or terror, John couldn't tell which, at the mention of its species name.

"How." The Macra demanded. "How do you know. How."

John grinned, enjoying being the smartest guy in the room. He was also enjoying the fact that the cameras behind him were filming, and were sending all the information straight to Torchwood. Hopefully Jack wouldn't let him rot with UNIT. That would suck.

"Oh, but you still don't get it." He snickered. "You, oh so intelligent arthropods, still haven't gotten the point!"

The speaker fell silent, as John's tone turned deadly once more.

"You forgot to ask what I am captain of."

"What?" the voice demanded. John smiled grimly, with no sign of amusement.

"Captain Jon Hart." He re-introduced himself. "Former Time Agent."

The creature spat and screeched again, and this time John was certain that it was in terror.

"What do you want?" they demanded.

"I want you gone." John answered.

"No." the speaker vibrated. "You will leave."

"Not with you still on this planet."

"Then you will stay. But you will surrender."

"Not a chance honey. See, I've got it on good word that right now, there're two little ones being started, and I am not letting you screw that up."

Of course John knew that Jack and Gwen were both pregnant. Ianto and Rhys had a cursed nine months ahead of him. John had the common sense to find a Birth control that worked before he started dating Andy.

"You will yield." It was an order. Too bad John left all days of obedience behind him.

"Yeah, No."

"You have yielded in the past."

"Who, me? I wasn't here to yield in the past. You must have me confused with some twentieth century jerk-off."

"You will yield."

"I will not."

"You will-"

John burst out laughing, cutting off the sentence.

"Why are you making noise, human?"

That only made him laugh harder.

"Is that the only thing you can say? 'You will yield'?" John mimicked, mocking the alien. "Is that your only response? 'You will yield'?"

"What is humorous?" the voice asked again.

"You called me human." John chortled. "Nobody's called me that since I was ten."

"You are human."

"I am not." John ground his teeth. "I was born on the Andromeda colony, in the year 5032. My grandparents were a quarter-Mara and a Krillitane, while their mates were whatever passed as human in that century. My mother had green skin. I. Am. Not. Human."

"You will leave."

John growled, frustrated by how this was going. These Macra were clearly not the smartest their species had produced.

"No. I won't." he barked in response. "I will not leave, because I want you gone."

"You would risk war?"

John smirked, a deadly glint in his eyes.

"A one Man war. Have you never studied human history, Macra? Particularly American history? They waged a whole war because one man stood up and said no."

"You are but one."

"Goddess you're thick. That's the point. One man, with a cause behind him. And you still don't bloody get it!"

John dropped his bag on the floor, extracting a cube from the backpack.

"Temporally linked explosive device. I'm giving you ten seconds to get your fucking collective crustacean asses off this planet. And if you aren't out of this system and on your way back home in four clicks then consider yourselves dead."

"You are lying."

"Normally, you would be right." John acquiesced."But I have never been more serious in my life."

"You would not dare." The Macra contested. "You would not kill yourself. You smell of mating."

John smirked. Sometimes he forgot how sensitive aliens were compared to 21st century humans. Maybe he should stop having sex the night before the world ends.

"But you've forgotten again." He stepped closer, clearly threatening. "Time. Agent. Idiots. I can be out of here before you even realize the bomb is set."

"We are but Two."

"But there are three more transmitters, connected to this one, currently being very conveniently deposited inside your ship by the Rift." John beamed, a malicious gleam entering his eyes. "Transmitters that will concentrate the temporal flux ejected by this explosive around your ship, sending it right through the rift at the heart of the Orion nebula." John thought about the crack that the Agency had left open, which not even the doctor knew about. Well, not yet anyway.

"You lie."

"I don't." John smirked, stepping closer to the tank. "And you know what really gets me?"

He didn't actually get a response, but he hadn't expected one anyways.

"You just let me talk." He grinned, slamming the explosive device against the glass so hard the surface buckled, forcing the object to remain lodged in place.

"The one thing you should never do," John cautioned, backing away, "Is let a time agent talk. Cause before you know it…" he programmed his wrist computer, setting the teleport to the London train station [since going straight to Cardiff came with the risk of getting sucked in by the rift] "I've gone and done something stupid, like… pre-set the detonation sequence on a temporal explosive device."

With a wink, a grin, and that fading comment, John teleported out of the building, just as the bomb went off.

"You're welcome." He muttered to no one and everyone in general, as he turned away from the smoke billowing over a building, now out of sight. He figured that no one would ever have to know what he had done. They'd blame it on the weather or the Doctor or something. (Little did he know that half of the conversation had been translated across the world through the children). With a nonchalant shrug, he headed into the subway tunnels. He would be back in Cardiff with just enough time to surprise Andy before he got off shift.

Later that evening, John lay in bed, his boyfriend on top of him and a set of police handcuffs keeping his wrists attached to the bed frame.

"See, when you said you'd have to arrest me, I thought you were joking." John pointed out, wriggling unconvincingly. Andy smirked. While John was reduced to wearing nothing but his boxers, the PC was still fully clothed in his work outfit.

"Oh, you did, did you?"

John grinned, seeing the mischievous glint that had entered the other man's eye.

"Taught me right, didn't it."

"Oh, I don't know." Andy traced John's face with his truncheon [and no, that isn't a euphemism. See the T rating people]. "I think you could stand to be taught a few more things."

"Do tell."

John's eyes dilated as Andy whispered his plans for "educating" him in his ear. And, well, if Jack called him several times demanding if he knew anything about the explosion at the Thames house, he was technically under arrest. Just not legally.

Eh, semantics.


AN: and yes, I do know that I just made John related to two very, very bad species. But I think it adds to the complexity of him. That might not stay the same through other chapters. Hope you enjoyed, and remember, chapter three and on will rely on your comments, so suggest problems John can fix!