"This is the way to The Garden In The Night!

Oh no!  It's the Ninky Nonk!

Catch the Ninky Nonk!"

ATTENTION:

BBC interrupts 'In the Night Garden ...' with this special news bulletin.

A potential hostage situation has just been diffused at the Cardiff Lost Dogs' Home ... no thanks to an unnamed DCI who threatened to come in all guns a'blazing, but was talked down by his female DI.

Police are attending the scene, taking dabs, eating donuts, drinking coffee and interviewing witnesses as we go to air.  Details are sketchy at this time, of the potential hostage crisis.

A man seen running from the scene of the crime is wanted for police enquiries.  The man, described by police as a bottle-dyed brunette, medium height and build, wearing pants and some kind of red waistcoat, with filthy undershirt underneath, is armed and dangerous.  And drunk.  In no way should the general public approach him ...






Jack growled and flipped off the TV.

What was the point in paying your TV license fee when the program you really wanted to watch was interrupted with bad news.  Not that Torchwood actually paid their license fees, but that wasn't the point really!

Luckily he had his 'In the Night Garden ...' DVDs to fall back on and he could catch up on all the adventures of Igglepiggle and the Tombliboos' later!  Jack shuddered.  But there was just something about that narrator's voice, something masterful and terribly familiar that he could never quite put his finger on.

Anyway ...



Glancing at his 500 year desk calendar, Jack broke into a wide grin.

                                          DECEMBER 1



Ah.

December.

Earth Christmas!

This year, it was ALL going to be different.  It was going to be happy.  And joyful.  And cheerful.  And bloody well jolly!

Jack wandered over to the windows and with hands in his pockets, looked down on the Hub, watching as his employees scurried about their business.

Christmas business, that was!

Jack had put his team to work early this year.

There was Owen, hanging the Hub holly and grumbling about how he'd like to deck Jack instead of the halls.

There was Tosh, silent and stoic, as she again photoshopped Torchwood Christmas cards this year ... knowing full well that they couldn't be sent to anyone outside the Hub.  Except Her Majesty.  Oh and a nice single finger salute to those nobs at UNIT!

There was Ianto, musing on where to hang the mistletoe.  Somewhere not so obvious, but still in a surprising place so that kisses could be laid on whoever happened to be underneath it.  Jack chuckled and patted his pockets.  Full of mistletoe.  He wasn't taking any chances this year.  He'd hang mistletoe everywhere, and try and catch ALL his team under it.  Yes!  Even Owen deserved a kiss now and then!

And there was Gwen.  Ah Gwen.  His second-in-command, and only her second Christmas with Torchwood.  But it had been her idea for the 'flipping the bird' cards for UNIT, and how could Jack argue with an idea as brilliant as that.  Pity he hadn't thought of it before, but that was what women were good for.

Telling him stuff he didn't know.

How to do things.

Where to go when he cornered them in dark Hub basements ...

Ah, humanity.  The twenty-first century.  He loved it all.

But if there was ONE thing Captain Jack Harkness loved more than anything, it was Christmas.

Nothing was going to go wrong this year.

Nothing could spoil his Merry Torchwood Christmas.

Absolutely, positively, completely nothing . . .

“Oh Christmas tree, oh Christmas tree...”

“Would you please sodding shut up!”

Jack gave the hung-over John a beaming smile and continued to sing as he wound tinsel through the fresh pine tree now currently adoring John’s cell.

John groaned and curled into a tighter ball on the hard cell bench.

After his surprise appearance at the hub the night before, John had to be hauled in his inebriated state to the cells before any further groping of Gwen’s bum resulted in a dead time agent.

And that was just Jack they had to worry about.

A few fist fights regarding the rum-less state of the cell and a couple of bottles of the aforementioned rum later, John was happily enjoying  his incarceration, even attempting to teach Janet a few choice Christmas carols that involved words such as bells and kissing replaced with boobs and another word that even had Owen blushing.

Yet once the bottles of rum had gone, John Hart had gone from being the single most ruthless threat in Torchwood’s history to a drooling, snoring and rum soaked drunkard.

As Gwen said, it was like finding out Santa Claus didn’t exist all over again, the thought that John Hart was currently as dangerous as a warm, soapy bath.

Jack had then come in this morning to start his ‘Christmas cheer’ of the cells, much to Janet’s excitement and John’s disgust.

“And who puts up a flipping Christmas tree on the 3rd of December at any rate? Everyone knows it should be done on the 1st.” John commented dourly as Jack continued his sprucing of the tree with some fake snow.

Jack continued to hum, ignoring John.

“That tinsel is hurting my eyes.” John covered his head again, moaning in agony.

“What?” grinned Jack. “Did someone over indulge last night?”

An unintelligible muttering came from the vicinity of John’s head.

”I could turn the chipmunks’ Christmas album on again if you don’t like my dulcet voice,” Jack said casually as he moved from fake snow to the ornaments.

John looked up in alarm. “You do that and I swear they won’t even be able to soak your body up in a sponge after I’m finished with you. “

“Good luck with that,” Jack smirked.

“So what do I have to do to make you go away? Do you want a full run down with what I’ve been up to, the amount of secret government organisations from several nations after me, the diamond the size of a small poodle I have stashed away in Argentina somewhere or are you just after my credit card number??”

“I’m not doing this to get information out of you,” said Jack in surprise. “I’m doing it because it is Christmas!”

"Pull the other one love,” said John as he sat up slowly and experimented with blood pooling away from his head. “You could never lie to me.”

Jack turned and offered John a gingerbread from the plate piled high. “I love Christmas and this year is going to be the best Christmas ever!”

John then realised that he must have actually drunk himself to death last night and was currently in hell. With no more booze.

``````````````````````````````````````````````````````````
Meanwhile the rest of the team watched in amusement as Jack decorated John’s cell as Tosh undertook a diagnostic on all of John’s accessories.

“I still think we should have thrown him into the bay and let him drown,” muttered Owen under his breath as they watched Jack decorate John’s cell.

“Like we are going to let a scoundrel like him out of our sight,” Gwen said without taking her eyes off the screen. Her spider sense was tingling. John appearing like this was only an omen of doom, despite the hilarity of his drunkenness, Gwen didn’t trust his motives as far as she could throw....well......Rhys.

Ianto placed beverages before the team.

Gwen took a sip from her cup absently and nearly spit it back out in surprise.  She looked up Ianto. ‘This is coffee??”

He looked at her forlornly. “Jack said last night that coffee or tea isn’t allowed. Since it is December we are only allowed to drink egg nog. And he-Ianto pointed at the screen- drank all the rum we had last night so it’s currently only ‘egg no’.”

Tosh looked at her mug and then pushed it away in disgust.

Ianto continued, “Is it just me or has Jack got a bit too excited about Christmas this year?”

“He’s got Christmas madness.” Owen said matter-of-factually.

Ianto raised an eyebrow elegantly. “Dare I ask, what is Christmas madness?”

Owen whirled around in his chair. “So glad you asked Tea boy. Christmas madness is a peculiar disease that affects the weak minded in the lead up to the big day where they go overboard with excessive Christmas cheer, drive everyone bananas and the only cure is a quick killing by a certain Owen Harper.”

"Owen that is the stupidest medical diagnosis I have ever heard you utter,” Gwen said.

Owen just nodded wisely. “Christmas madness, I tell you. In a couple of day’s time you’ll be joining me in the anti-Christmas crusade and killing. ”

Tosh cleared her throat. “Well I think we may have a problem before we get to a Christmas massacre,” She held up a small, slim silver object that they had found in John’s pocket. “This is going to get us in a whole heap of trouble....,”

"AH John, its christmas. You remember, a time for forgiveness and all that stuff. You said it yourself". Jack said with an annoying happy christmassy tone in his voice.

"Yeah, and you locked me in the cells!!!!!" John barked while poking Ianto in the head with his gun.

"You asked us to hide you from the authorities, they`d never find you down there, would they?. AAAND we did give you those nice bottles of rum to keep you warm, didnt we?" Jack replied with an idiot grin on his face and a mince pie in his mouth.

"I spose, but why all the bloody tinsel? And those damned carols all the time?" John looked like he was about to be sick.

"Its christmas John, the happiest time of the year, joy to the world and all that. Why dont you put down the gun and have a mince pie, you look like you could use something solid in your tummy." Jack held the plate of hot mince pies in Johns direction.
It looked like John was about to do just as Jack asked when Gwens phone rang, John stiffened up again.

"Sorry, hang on, I`ll make it quick.  
Hello?
.....Gwenith? Its mam, your da and i are just driving in and you wont believe what we just saw.
Mam, I`m kinda in the middle of something right now.
.....Thats alright Gwenith dear, I know you are with some government agency and i thought you might know what it was. Your da says it was a tiny santa sleigh being pulled through the sky by 9 poodles, of course i told him he was mad, but i thought you might know the truth. Is it some secret testing we saw by accident?


Gwens jaw dropped.

.....Gwenith? Are you there dear? We must have a bad connection. Alright dear, we`ll be at your house soon. Love you.......


Gwen looked at Jack and then John.
"You wouldnt happen to know anything about a flying sleigh pulled by nine poodles would you John?"
John had a mixture of guilt and pleasure on his face, like a child caught in the lolly jar after he had already eaten some.

"Well it wouldnt be christmas without Santa, would it? And Santa needs his sleigh, but reindeer? Do you know how smelly they are? And UGLY, my GOD they are ugly. Since poodles are so cute i thought i could improve things a little."

"AH Gwen, what are you two talking about?" Asked Jack through a mouthful of gingerbread man. Crumbs flying everywhere.

"Tosh, can you do a search and see whats going on, a flying sleigh pulled by poodles is cruising the cardiff skies" Gwen then looked at Owen "Put that bloody gun away and see if you can figure out how the hell they`re doing it.  And YOU" she said turning on John "Give me that bloody gun, let Ianto loose and tell me what the hell you have been up to!"
Tosh had opened an online news service and the newsreader was just saying "December fifth, Cardiff Wales, we are recieving reports of santa being early this year, and his sleigh is being pulled by POODLES. I think theres been a bit too much egg nog consumed in cardiff this year"

John looked like he had unwrapped a dog turd on christmas morning, handed Gwen the gun and let go of Ianto.

"So, now all thats sorted out, Who`s for a mince pie?" Jack was answered by a stoney silence "AWWW come on, i made them myself"

"The same recipe you used to use back at the Time Agency?" Asked John.

"Yep, but a little more rum, seems to liven up the party that way"

John reached over and grabbed two, almost inhaling the first "WOW, these ARE good" he grabbed another two stuffing them in his  pockets. Jack pulled a small black box out of his jacket and pressed a button. Every speaker in the Hub started to emit carols. Jacks face lit up and John even grinned a little.

Owen looked at tosh who was madly bashing away at her keyboard "Its no good Owen, according to this every speaker in the place  is offline"

"51`st century Jack, 51`st century technology" Jack said with a cheesy grin, tapping the little black box.

"OH you utter bastard!" John said through mouthfuls of pie and laughter "He did this back at the agency, but they werent sweet innocent carols that time. Took tech 3 weeks to solve it".

"YEP, and guess what day it is in three weeks kids? ITS CHRISTMAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Jack laughed spraying more gingerbread crumbs everywhere.

"No it`ll be bloody boxing day" grumbled Owen only to recieve a foul look from Jack

"you got anything to drink around here?" Asked John.

"Torchwood house rules" said Jack "Only Egg Nog to be drunk in the hub during december."

"Great bring me a bucket!!!!!"

"After your binge last night" snarled Ianto "We only have Egg NO!"

"Oh liven up Ianto, wheres your christmas spirit?" Laughed Jack

"I drank it all!" screamed John laughing like a hyena, Jack joined in the laughter and reached into his jacket, he pulled out a big bunch of keys.
"Here Ianto, go look in the weapons locker, that panel on the side, you have to unlock the middle lock first, then the top lock and then the bottom one. Got that?"

"Middle, top then bottom." said Ianto.

"Good, theres a small cask of Captain midnights killer rum in there, that should tide us over for a while."

John looked across at Jack "You said you didnt have any left! I am deeply hurt that you lied to me, a fellow time agent and all"

"John, this isnt rum, this is RUM!, real kick arse pirate rum from the carribean, it shouldnt even be legal to posses the stuff without a weapons licence."

"Bring it on, theres a good lad tea boy, lets see if this demon rum is as bad as Jack claims"

Ianto stormed off mumbling teaboy, bloody teaboy, i`m going to shove that christmas tree up the next person to call me teaboy

Gwen felt as if she was engulfed in a tide of humanity.

Bodies were pressed up against her. She felt elbows jabbing against her, obscuring her gun arm.  Fingers tugged against her hair and she had to suppress the urge to start punching her way clear.

God, she hated Christmas shopping.

She was glad she sent Rhys to buy presents for his parents, one less that she had to! After the debacle of discovering a poodle that had the very distinct features of a weevil and the mayhem it had caused once it was introduced to Janet back at the hub, Gwen had decided she needed a day off from the madness at the hub.

But she didn’t think that being pressed against smelly armpits while fighting for the last Michael Bubble Christmas album could be constituted as a day off.

Gwen felt the headache that had been hiding serenely at the back of head burst forth.

God damn that egg Nog to hell!!

She had decided that she much preferred when Jack and John were at each other’s throats because the two of them together was absolutely unbearable. They ganged up on everyone and force fed egg nog down their throats followed by a couple of mince pies, cooked to the secret time agency recipe.

After the hallucinations had started she made her escape before the terrible twosome could start suggesting a group orgy.

She didn’t put it past John to think it was a good idea and Gwen just knew Jack would be first in.

She sighed again, desperate for the first time she could remember for Christmas to be over.  

Looking up, a sign caught her eye:  It’s the 7th of December! Only 18 days til Christmas!!

Gwen moaned internally. She was Christmas-ed out at the hub and with Jack’s constant Christmas cheer.
 
She momentarily considered Owens macabre advent calendar and then thought better of it. While she was sure that Jack would come back if she did actually snap and kill him with a piece of tinsel, there was a small part of her that could never go through with it.

She couldn’t be the one responsible for making Jack leave her world permanently.    

Eventually she fought her way through the hoards, and made it to the counter. She didn’t know if Jack deserved a Christmas present this year but she couldn’t say no to the Buzz Light year that shot caps.

Eventually Gwen made it outside, a small amount of snow falling. She looked up the street to see if she could see Rhys yet what she did see was a pack of poodle-weevils (Which Ianto had nicknamed woodles) racing down the road. As she got out her phone she realised that a day off from Torchwood was never possible.

Tosh opened her eyes and groaned before closing them again. It was bright. Too bright, and her head hurt. She tried to remember what she'd done the previous night and failed miserably, although she was fairly certain it involved a fair amount of alcohol and – her memory flickered - oh no, not karaoke again?!

She rolled over, trying to ignore the growing pressure on her bladder, and - once again - failed miserably.

She crawled out of bed and made her way to the bathroom, battling to open her eyes enough not to bump into any walls on the way. Several minutes later she crawled back into her bed and was just falling asleep again when her memory opened its flood gates and the happenings of the previous afternoon and evening poured into her reluctant brain. The recollection of Owen giving Janet her 5 year physical reminded her why she and Gwen had gone out drinking in the first place, and the following recollection of their attempt to try every cocktail on offer at the bar made her realise exactly why her hangover was so bad.

What seemed like mere seconds, but was actually hours later, her phone rang, jarring her out of a sound sleep, and causing the hammers in her brain to double in speed. She answered it, almost cutting the caller off in her fumble to press the correct button.

“Yes?” she murmured groggily.

“Tosh! Jack here, we need you ASAP! See you in half an hour.”

Before she had a chance to reply the phone went dead, and despite the strong temptation to roll over and play dead for a few more hours she knew that she would end up with Jack kicking her door down if she wasn't at the Hub within the proscribed time frame.

She dragged herself out of bed again and after downing the maximum allowable dosage of her strongest non-drowsy pain killer, had herself dressed and ready to go within 20 minutes. She stopped only to check out the quote on the Simpsons calendar Owen had given her for Christmas last year –


With a wry smile on her face she locked the door behind her and headed for work.

"Din' donggg merrily on haaaiiigggghhhh ...
In heav'n bellls R riiiiinginggg ..."


"Nooooo," Owen bellowed, a rictus of wretched agony spearing through his body.  "Make it stop, for the love of anything, just make it stop!"

Slapping his hands over his poor abused ears, the Torchwood Medic found that it wasn't any better.  The horrible whining sound, which supposedly passed for singing, infiltrated his hearing, his senses, his very soul ... and gawd, was it farking awful!  If he'd thought yesterday's bad dream--that had only been a dream--had been bad, he was sadly mistaken.

This was a gazillion times infinity worse.

And where were the bleeding ear plugs when you needed them?

"Din' donggg verily the skyyeeaaiiiyy ...
Is driv'n with angels snogginnnggg ..."

"You found where it's coming from yet, Tosh?" demanded Jack, completely unaffected by the torture currently being inflicted on the Hub.

He wasn't wearing earplugs--like Gwen.  He wasn't wearing cute pink fluffy ear muffs--like Tosh.  And he wasn't wearing workmen's safety ear getup--like Ianto.  Who'd gotten to the only pair in the Hub first, damn the bastard!

Tosh banged away at the keyboard, trying to triangulate where Torchwood's Christmas visitor had got to.

But it was no use!

John was hiding, shielding himself with some kind of advanced technology currently beyond Earth's capability, and all the while hijacking the Hub's PA system to broadcast his happy, drunken stupor-a-long.

No-one else was very happy right now.

No-one else was singing along either.

"He's going for the chorus again," Gwen yelled, preparing everyone for the worst.

Not that they hadn't heard it a hundred times already over the past hour.  No amount of Retcon would be able to erase John bloody Hart mangling the holy strain of Gloria, Hosanna in excelsis!

"  *hic*  Hey ho ho ho, Torchwoood, 'avin' funnn?" John slurred into the PA system.  "We've only just begunnn!"

Jack turned his expressionless gaze on Owen in the ensuing silence.

"Right!  Like it's my fault," Owen growled.

"You gave him the rumballs, the mince pies and my best Scotch!  It was you that was jumped from behind when taking food to him in the cells.  It was you that stupidly left the cell door open in the first place.  And now it's us that has to pay the price," Jack pointed out logically, in a very bland tone of voice.

Owen flinched.  He despised it when Jack talked in that voice.  That voice meant the boss man had gone so far past 'pissed' he'd come right back round again--twice!

"This is NOT how I planned to spend my day," Jack said, his eyes boring in to Owen's skull.  "I'm practically immune to butchered Christmas carols, so I'm quite ok-ay with that.  But now he's started rhyming.  I.  Hate.  Rhyming!  So, no, Owen, I am not having a very good 12th of December.  It was supposed to be happy.  And merry.  And jolly.  And right now, Doctor Harper, I'm none of those things!"

Owen flinched again, before glancing over Jack's shoulder.

Spotting Captain John standing behind them, Owen grabbed Jack's pistol from the man's holster before firing off a few rounds in quick succession.  Bullets ricocheted around the Hub.  An indignant screech came from Myfanwy who was flying overhead just then.

Jack's face darkened and he grabbed his gun from Owen's limp grasp.

"What the hell you doing, Owen?" Gwen screamed at him.

"I thought ... I saw John.  Just standing there with a smug smile on his bastard face," Owen told them.  He'd honestly thought he'd seen the man.  "He was right over there!"

The team turned.

But there was nothing.

"If you want bird for Christmas, Myfanwy is too big to fit in the oven," quipped Ianto.

Jack raised a supercilious eyebrow.  "And if you want to practice your shooting, go downstairs to the range.  No-one touches my gun but me, got it?"

Jack's gaze was drawn away from Owen to ...

"Hey, who's grabbing my bum?" Gwen screeched as she felt a palm caress her bottom.  Rather lewdly, she might add.  The chuckle in her ear told her it was John.

Spinning around, she let one loose, a quick uppercut in the offender's direction.  Her eyes widened in horror.

"Ohmigosh Ianto, I'm sooooo sorry, I thought ..."

Ianto, his head still reeling from the surprise force of Gwen's punch, nodded in understanding.

He'd just seen it all and sort of had an idea on what was going on.  Jack did too, judging by the look on his face, the grin he was trying to keep at bay.

"It was John," Ianto said slowly, trying not to talk too much due to his stinging jaw, "but it wasn't!"

"I can't believe it," Jack muttered, shaking his head.  "I can't believe he's got one of those!  The Time Agency outlawed them, yet he's got one!"

"And I can't believe Gwen just smacked Ianto in the gob."  Owen was laughing himself stupid--which wasn't a hard thing to do!  "Course it woulda been better if you'd kneed Tea Boy in the funbag instead, Cooper!  That would have made my Christmas very merry indeed!"

Tosh ignored Owen's special brand of Christmas mirth and cheer, focusing her attention on Jack.  "What is it?  Some kind of image projection device?" she asked.

Jack nodded.  And what he wouldn't do to get his own hands on it!

But now that he knew what it was, he knew how to track it down.

"Gloooooriaaaaaaahhhhhhhaaaaaa..."

Right!

That was it!

Jack had had enough of this fiddle-faddling around!

Punching a code into his wrist strap, Torchwood's boss strode away, honing in on the miscreant.

"Where's he going?" Gwen demanded.

"To do some pest control, I'd say!"

Ianto's quip was met with smiles all round.

"Hosannnaaaarrrr in excelll ... urgggle arrrggghh oooiii noooooo ..."

"But i hardly ever see her any more. Its worse than when she was a cop. She gets home at all hours of the night and leaves the second that boss of hers clicks his fingers. Its driving me crazy."
Rhys took a gulp of his lager.
"I know what you mean, she used to talk to me, now its always hush hush. This Torchwood mob has changed her"
PC Andy took a drink from his pint, the two of them just nodded at each other in sympathy, the pair had been drinking for the last couple of hours after bumping into each other that afternoon.
"And its christmas for gods sake, her mam and da turned up the other day and she`s hardly seen them. They think shes havng an affair."
Rhys gulped down the last of his lager, motioning to the barman for another round.
"What about you Rhys, do you think she`playing up on you? I could do a little snooping if you want."
Andy looked at Rhys expecting him to say something, but what he said was unexpected.
"Nah, she`s too honest for that, she'd never do that to me. Besides isnt christmas the busiest time of year for you law and order types? Its probably just work, she seems worn to a frazzle when i do see her lately."

Meanwhile back at the hub......................

John woke up groaning in one of the cells "Jack you bastard, how did you find me, that projector is supposed to be untraceable, and why the hell did you have to hit me so hard, how did you hit me by the way? I was only having a little harmless fun."

"John, the projector IS untraceable, but it doesnt hide your body heat. When i realised that it was easy to find you and all i had to do to hit you was to pass an electrical current through the hockey stick, didnt you read anything about these things at the agency?. OH and thanks for the early christmas present"

Jack looked through the cell wall throwing a sparkly item from hand to hand.
"I can really get this place in the christmas spirit with this thing, they wont be able to find me or stop me, and dont think about telling them how to trace me, i`ll lock the outer door so they cant get in to talk to you. The Time Agency might have banned these things but they dont exist in this timeline, so i wont be doing anything wrong. And did you realise its the 13th of december today? Know what that means?"

John just looked at him blankly.

"Only 12 day till CHRISTMAS!"

Jack walked away whistling 'Oh Christmas Tree" and faded away before he got to the door. A voice from no-where chuckled as the door closed and the lock clunked.

The rest of the team were busying themselves around the hub, Gwen had pulled down the strings of tinsel, Owen had managed to get the christmas tree upright again after Myfanwy had knocked it down trying to perch on it, Tosh had managed to get the computers cleaned up and all the christmas 'extras' removed.

"Ianto, wheres Jack? And do you know why i cant get any sound or video from the cells?" She asked.

"No idea on both counts Tosh, but i`m just glad hes not here, all that christmasy 'joy' was driving me insane. I mean christmas is for kids, its just an excuse for adults to over-indulge and over spend."

"Come on tea boy" said Owen "Thats a pretty cynical sort of attitude, christmas has a deep spiritual meaning for lots of people, and the girls put out easier than the rest of the year too"

Everyone had a look on their faces as if they were about to be sick after that last line. Ianto suddenly turned around, there was no-one there.

"I think we have a problem, some-one just pinched my backside, but theres no-one there. Are we sure Jack has John locked up?"

"Like i said Ianto, i cant get any feeds from the cells, are you sure you were pinched?"

Suddenly Jack appeared out of no-where right in front of Ianto with a sprig of mistletoe and snatched a quick kiss  " I thought it was traditional for people to have a christmas gooseing at time of year" he said with a smile and chuckle.