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poshmouthytart: Dinner at Luigis.
May. 18th, 2010 12:36 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
quitehomoeroticNot the most conventional of ways to crop upon someone. But then Jack Harkness was anything but a conventional sort of guy.
There were many ways to communicate, of course, and some of those transcended time. That fact was hardly surprising to him, of course. But getting involved to the point of taking a small trip to the 80s wasn't quite what he'd expected.
And maybe that was why he wanted to do it so much.
So he took a leap from the city he'd been holding himself up in; somewhere in the 48th century, and took himself back to the 20th. 1983 to be precise, March 9th to be even more so. It wasn't random, of course, it was when she'd said to be there.
The 80s had been an interesting time for Jack the first time round; something of a transitioning period. Torchwood had started to feel almost less than a crutch and more like something that mattered. He'd spent a fair bit of time around London, of course, but this place in particular was new to him. Fenchurch, part of the City of London; the odd pocket of space that seemed to empty up after work hours, a ghost town on weekends and with pubs full of bankers trying to drink their sorrows away (time never seemed to change that fact, it just meant the sorrows were different ones).
It was a small little restaurant that he'd agreed to meet her in. 'Luigi's', an Italian with a colourful man behind the counter and an even more colourful mural on the wall. Jack spared a look at it, and an eyebrow raised. He said nothing.
"Get you a drink, Signore?" the man (Jack assumed Luigi himself) asked him from behind the desk.
"In fact, maybe you can. I'm looking for an Alex Drake."
There were many ways to communicate, of course, and some of those transcended time. That fact was hardly surprising to him, of course. But getting involved to the point of taking a small trip to the 80s wasn't quite what he'd expected.
And maybe that was why he wanted to do it so much.
So he took a leap from the city he'd been holding himself up in; somewhere in the 48th century, and took himself back to the 20th. 1983 to be precise, March 9th to be even more so. It wasn't random, of course, it was when she'd said to be there.
The 80s had been an interesting time for Jack the first time round; something of a transitioning period. Torchwood had started to feel almost less than a crutch and more like something that mattered. He'd spent a fair bit of time around London, of course, but this place in particular was new to him. Fenchurch, part of the City of London; the odd pocket of space that seemed to empty up after work hours, a ghost town on weekends and with pubs full of bankers trying to drink their sorrows away (time never seemed to change that fact, it just meant the sorrows were different ones).
It was a small little restaurant that he'd agreed to meet her in. 'Luigi's', an Italian with a colourful man behind the counter and an even more colourful mural on the wall. Jack spared a look at it, and an eyebrow raised. He said nothing.
"Get you a drink, Signore?" the man (Jack assumed Luigi himself) asked him from behind the desk.
"In fact, maybe you can. I'm looking for an Alex Drake."
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no subject
Date: 2010-06-03 04:45 pm (UTC)His eyes shifted just slightly, but seemingly in such a way to highlight the fact that he very much was looking. And he liked what he saw.
The look in her eyes and the twist of her lips made Jack grin a little, and his own eyes creased a little at the corners.
He took her hand and stood, looking back down at her. "Best suggestion I've heard all week," he said, voice still a whisper."
With his free hand he reached out and took the wine glass from hers and took a sip from it before placing it back down on the table.
"You're not going to need that."
no subject
Date: 2010-06-03 06:01 pm (UTC)It was a wonderful, strange feeling, looking into Jack's stunning blue eyes and not being alone. Knowing that he was looking at her, with lust and intent and hope and expectation, all things that she had, long ago, wondered if she would ever seen in the eyes of anyone again. Such human things, things that were so very alive in their nature. It had been a long time since she'd felt that way, and she closed her mouth. "You're right," she agreed.
She turned slightly, Jack's hand held firmly in her own, the warmth of his smooth palm seeming to radiate up her arm. She shifted her hand to entwine her fingers with his, leading him around the coffee table and through the kitchen towards the open door of the bedroom.