londoncallingrpg

After John Hart, after Gray, Jack couldn't be in Cardiff. He was Torchwood now, not just what he did but who he was, and he had a small crisis and had to get away. Although he'd broken with London's Torchwood after the incidents at Canary Wharf (which it seemed the population had either forgotten or written off) Jack found himself in England's jewel. He was ready to make a new start. And, he reckoned, the Doctor would probably visit London before Cardiff if truth be told.

He'd settled into the subterranean Hub that Alice and Emily had worked in. It had been long forgotten in favor of the building of steel and glass that had been built atop it. Bloody Torchwood...they were supposed to be secret. He'd made his contacts and had put himself to work. But even Jack needed to eat.

He had all of the city to choose from and rather than just go to a pub Jack stood on the sidewalk looking at his mobile reading Yelp reviews. There was a place just down the block and around the corner. Yelp was good and all but he kind of wanted a real opinion so he looked up from his screen and he smiled at the first person whose eye he caught.

"Excuse me...do you know if this place is any good?" he asked, showing the screen. His American accent immediately marked him as a tourist, even though he wasn't.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

raisedbycarnies

He couldn't tell if it was a buddy thing or a date thing, but that was fine as long as he got to eat. "I'm always up for more company. What're you Captain of?"

From:

im_torchwood

"Air force," he replied. "But I've retired. Never lose the title, though. I worked my way through the ranks."

And if that statement wasn't laden with innuendo...nothing was.

From:

raisedbycarnies

"I got a friend who's an army captain," Clint said, only vaguely alluding to Steve. "Should I be taking sides before the next force barbecue?"

From:

im_torchwood

"No, I'm sure your friend has a stronger claim," Jack chuckled. "And besides, I'm on this side of the pond...Royal Air Force, American Volunteer," he explained.

From:

raisedbycarnies

Clint laughed a little but didn't explain why. With his level of SHIELD clearance, he'd been privy to Rogers' files and learned he was a sneaky, stubborn shit. Clint had liked him immediately before they even met.

"Either way, I'm a dumb civilian so, you outrank me."

From:

im_torchwood

"Oh, no, friend...you've got that backward. If you're a civie I'm at your service. I do what I do to keep you safe," Jack said and that was no line. He really believed it and the earnestness of the sentiment was conveyed through tone and posture, even the light in his eyes.

He might be using the RAF as a ruse, but that didn't matter. Being Torchwood meant he lived to keep everyone safe. It was a huge responsibility and one Jack gladly took on.

From:

raisedbycarnies

He supposed it would be too much to ask if serving him also included a free drink, but Clint wasn't out to push his luck this early in the evening. He also wasn't sure if he was ready to get seduced, because in his experience that ended with duct tape over his mouth in someone's trunk.

Shouldering his duffel, Clint made a deliberately sloppy, but sincere salute, "Glad to hear it."

From:

im_torchwood

Jack chuckled at that.

"It doesn't mean much. I'm not a very good servant," he said.

From:

raisedbycarnies

"And I'm just a decent kind of guy from Waverly, Iowa," Clint lied. Waverly, Iowa was the true part but the part where he claimed to be decent? Pure bullshit

From:

im_torchwood

"That's the corn part of the states, isn't it?" Jack asked- an odd question for someone who sounded like he was from America himself. He had the most generic accentless accent, putting him on the west coast, maybe...

From:

raisedbycarnies

Clint laughed, nodding and playing unsurprised. If he wasn't from the damn town, he'd have not known about it either, but he found that even the least geographically inclined Americans seemed to have a decent grasp of what and where Iowa was. Interesting.

"Corn and meth labs," he said, deciding that today he was going to play it as someone who hated the city where he was born.

From:

im_torchwood

"That's everywhere, anymore," Jack said sadly. "An epidemic in America, but it's not contained there. Ah, but what can you do? People want to feel good, especially when their lot in life is being stuck in the cornlands of America..."

From:

raisedbycarnies

"Clearly, you've never run afoul of feral meth junkies." Clint said it in such a deadpan that it was hard to say if he was sarcastic or serious.

"I did the smart thing. I got out and now look at me."

From:

im_torchwood

And now look at me... Jack did. He gave Clint a very obvious once over, head to toe and back.

"Kinda likin' what I see," he grinned.

From:

raisedbycarnies

Clint snorted and shook his head, playing up his broad Midwestern tone. "Sir you have not even bought me a drink yet. That is very forward!"

From:

im_torchwood

Jack laughed a little at that.

"Well, then...Can I buy you a drink?"

From:

raisedbycarnies

"Can't promise I'll be going weak at the knees, but sure," Clint said, all easy calm. "And I'll get the second round."

From:

im_torchwood

"That sounds good," Jack replied. "Why don't you lead the way. Wherever you like to drink...hopefully someplace with a little to eat..."

From:

raisedbycarnies

For now, that was the pub where they'd been standing. Clint wasn't too fussy and right now, he was more interested in getting a read off this guy than anything else. "They have good fries here. Excuse me. Chips."

From:

im_torchwood

"Oh, don't be getting that one wrong. They'll hang you from a yardarm or something equally British," Jack laughed.

From:

raisedbycarnies

"Asked for ketchup once. Apparently it's an arrestable offense," Clint said. He shook his head before going up to the bar, going for a pint and a steak and kidney pie. No ketchup.

From:

im_torchwood

"Ketchup...you're a dare devil," Jack laughed, then ordered fish and chips and a pitcher of water.

"So, Clint, in all seriousness...what brings you to London?" he asked.

From:

raisedbycarnies

"Work," Clint said, tone offhand as if to suggest his job was so boring as not to be worth a conversation. Even as he said it, he was formulating his imaginary job for tonight. He'd already made it clear he wasn't the silver spoon, old money business type, which blew away a few options. Antiquities always risked curiosity and there wasn't a circus in town he could piggyback.

"I'm a personal assistant. Where my boss goes, I go," he decided. "I got the night off for making an especially good Starbucks run." With Natasha in town, it was almost true.