londoncallingrpg

Jack had a very bad habit of letting his guard down. He loved hard and loved well, but in all his long years he was aware that love was brief. Here and there love had lasted for years. Angelo. His wife. Logan. In between there were others, loves great and small. And when love came, even though he knew better, Jack would let his guard down.

Life with Torchwood was all too often painful, bloody, and short. People came and went, but no one retired. No. No one got out so easily.

And the newest, freshest wound was Val. It had all been going so well. Jack's knowledge of tech and Val's understanding of magic had furthered the research into the portal. They were nowhere near being able to pinpoint a time or location, but they'd gotten one to hold steady for a while. It was promising.

Until it all went to hell.

Val went missing right before Jack's eyes. He'd tried desperately to undo what they'd done, but after a while even Jack had to admit he was lost. Gone.

And so Jack threw himself into work. There was no point in drinking- he never got drunk. There was no thirst for companionship- that was just hollow. But work was always there. Work to be done. Aliens to track. Tech to catalogue. A world to keep safe. Jack jumped right back into it and let the satisfaction he found in duty mask the pain of a broken heart.

Tonight he had just confiscated a crate of 'antiquities' and they were loaded in the back of the SUV. He'd let the sellers go since they were just humans who hadn't the first clue about what they were trying to sell. Jack locked the rig up and looked around, trying to decide if he ought to get a bite. He really hadn't been hungry, not since Val vanished, but he knew he needed to eat. He'd died of starvation before and it was a hell of a way to go.

(OTA find him anywhere in London or the outlying towns if you prefer. Jack needs new friends, and old faces will be welcome too!)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

She may have been completely focused on Jack's mouthwatering scent, but she still had some dignity.

"I'm not standing on a fucking crate," she said.

"Then I guess you'll have to work for it," he said, standing straight and tall, taunting her with his fifty-first century pheromones and the scent of life unbridled within him.

It was only a second before she gave in.

"Fuck you," she said, and stepped up onto the crate.

"You kiss your mother with that mouth?" Jack chuckled, but then his fingers were carding into his hair and cradling the back of her head. He pulled her in close, offering up his neck.

He knew from experience it didn't hurt. Much. And she was in for one hell of a surprise. Life coursed through him, life unending, and the energy of it was like nothing else in the universe.

Bonnie hesitated for a second, barely able to believe he was going to let her feed off him. It seemed too good to be true. Then she bit down into his neck, and once the first taste of his blood hit her tongue, she forgot about anything else.

She was too overwhelmed to even wonder what had hit her. All that mattered was that it felt good. She clung on to him and fed.

He'd have to peel her off his neck once she'd had enough. She wasn't going to stop on her own.

Reckless. Foolish. As she began to drink Jack thought of all the ways this was stupid and destructive. Like he was begging for death. In a way he was, and he made no move to stop her. It wasn't like he wouldn't bounce right back.

He didn't even spare a thought about how she might feel killing someone.

He simply kept his hand on her head, holding her close, until the life in him winked out. HIs hand fell and he tore away from her bite as he dropped to his knees, dead.

Bonnie didn't realise he was dying until his body dropped away. She'd been leaning most of her weight against him and she staggered, nearly falling off the crate but managing to regain her balance. She had to let go of him to stop him from dragging her down onto the ground.

She stared at him. Her mind and her body were still buzzing with the life from his blood, and it was hard to think. It took a second for her to understand that he was dead. The horror that realisation should have brought on never came. All she felt was confused, disoriented, and a little sick. Her mind was trying to make sense of what had happened, but all it did was go around in circles and make things worse.

Jack hit the ground like a rock. But the bite on his neck closed up and he was only dead for a very long minute. It was only blood, after all.

He gasped sharply and sat up, eyes flying open. He panted a few times and looked around, then spotted the little vampire.

"Was that good for you?" he asked with a cheeky smile. "It was good for me."

Bonnie stared at him. "What?"

"I get that a lot," he said as he stood and brushed himself off. "Don't worry, kid. No harm, no foul."

"You were dead," Bonnie said. She tried to step down off the crate, but between her confusion and still being high on Jack's blood, she tripped, nearly fell, and ended up staggering right into him.

Jack caught her and held her against his chest until she was steady.

"Well, yeah. I was. Nasty habit I have. Don't worry about it."

Bonnie was quite happy to stay nestled against his chest, drinking in his scent and listening to his heart beat. "You can't just die and come back."

"Oh, but I can. I do. Over and over again for centuries, now," he said gently. "I'm so alive. So very alive."

Even if she hadn't been stoned on his blood that wouldn't have made sense. "What?"

OTA

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