OTA

[im_torchwood]

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!)

Comments

[im_torchwood]

Jack chuckled a little.

"Everyone does," he said, patting Alcuin's back. "Let's get some food."

[alcuin]

"Fantastic," said Alcuin, as they made their way into the restaurant. He really was hungry; he'd gone out tonight expecting dinner and ended up at a wine bar instead.

"You know, this is the third time we've run into each other now..." he said. "And both other times we were making plans and then you were called away."

[im_torchwood]

"And I can't promise it won't happen again. I'm kind of always on call," he replied. "You never know when a new shipment from Hobby Lobby might be available," Jack joked.

[alcuin]

A surprised little laugh escaped Alcuin. "Okay, good one," he said. "Also way to deflect with humor." Though he didn't sound as if he minded.

They found a booth near the back of the restaurant, and Alcuin slid in.

"The last time we spoke you said you might like to come see my home," Alcuin said, and held his gaze for a moment before adding, "Artwork and rare books."

[im_torchwood]

"I think I still might like that. I'm always up for a little antiquity," Jack smiled. He settled in, never taking off his coat, and he picked up a menu. "What sounds good? I love learning what people like to eat."

[alcuin]

Alcuin opened the menu and was unsurprised to find traditional pub fare. And he really was hungry. "Shepherd's pie, I think," he said after a moment.

[im_torchwood]

Jack had his heart set on fish and chips. When the server came to their table he ordered for both of them. Drinks, as well. And then the woman bustled off and Jack returned his full attention to Alcuin.

"Tell me more about the books you have," he said.

[alcuin]

"I have a number of rare volumes of poetry," Alcuin said. "Anafiel was a poet, he collected them. There are first edition Keats, a signed T.S. Eliot. And I have some rare psychology texts now as well. Early Freud in very good condition."

Alcuin was still saddened by what had been lost in the fire at Hannibal's home. So much artwork, so many books. But what had been at his office, Alcuin had retrieved.

[im_torchwood]

"Interesting," he said. He thought it might be best to keep it to himself that he'd met Keats once. Alcuin didn't seem like the kind of person who might even believe him.

"What do you like better? THe poetry or the psychology?"

[alcuin]

Alcuin considered this for a moment and then said, "I like both. I suppose this is why I am myself and not a poet or a psychologist. Do you suppose there's a career somewhere at the intersection?"

[im_torchwood]

Jack shrugged and flashed a cheeky smile.

"Sounds like the makings of a teacher, if you ask me."

[alcuin]

Alcuin offered him a smile with a little shrug. "Maybe," he said. "Maybe college. With my history I doubt anyone would want me teaching children." He also felt like he knew next to nothing about children. He hadn't had a lot of experience with them, frankly even when he was one.

[im_torchwood]

"A professor, then," Jack said. "That might suit you. Something to think about, anyway."

[alcuin]

"Maybe," Alcuin said. "A lot more school, though. I think I need a break for a while." He wasn't going to let the one professor who'd harassed him ruin university for him forever, but it had left a sour taste in his mouth.

"I don't suppose you need an assistant for your antiquing?" he asked, with a playful smile.

[im_torchwood]

"Not right now. But I'll keep you in mind," Jack said. He had a good instinct for picking people who could handle the work with Torchwood. Alcuin wasn't one, he could tell by looking at him.

[alcuin]

"No you won't," said Alcuin with another little shrug, having a good instinct for when someone was lying. "That's okay." And then - "You barely know me, I don't expect you to trust me or to open up to me. Though for the record, except for the sense that you're one giant secret, I get a good feeling from you, myself."

[im_torchwood]

"Psychologists," Jack scoffed, followed by a laugh. "Okay, you caught me. I'm not likely to hire you. But that's nothing against you. I promise."

[alcuin]

Alcuin found himself wondering what kinds of secrets Jack had. What if they had something to do with the supernatural world, and he had no idea that Alcuin already knew all about it?

Or maybe not, and Alcuin would just seem crazy if he brought it up.

Their drinks appeared before Alcuin could think more about it. "Cheers," he offered.

[im_torchwood]

"Cheers," he replied and took a drink. He savored it a moment, delighting in the flavour.

"You're pretty perceptive," Jack said after a moment. "Have you considered forensics? Psychologist for the police?"

[alcuin]

"I've thought about that, yes," Alcuin said. "Ah... Hannibal always thought it was a bad idea for me to go into law enforcement. Something about revenge fantasies."

[im_torchwood]

"Is that a thing you have trouble with? Revenge fantasies?" he asked.

[alcuin]

Alcuin looked a bit sheepish. "I - no. Not exactly. I'd like to frame it as wanting to help victims, instead. But I won't pretend he didn't have something of a point."

[im_torchwood]

"If you ask me, there's nothing wrong with a little revenge. For a good cause," he replied lightly.

[alcuin]

"Mmmm... two of my lovers being murdered within three years?" Alcuin offered, and drained the rest of his drink.

[im_torchwood]

"That's a pretty good cause," he replied.