11 October 2008 @ 09:53 pm
Why I Shouldn't Think While Pissed  

[ooc note:  Takes place during night two of John's LA adventures - the night before when they actually started going out to get the robot.  Since I'm picky about the accuracy of timelines]

Alright, I’m gettin’ tired of typin’ in the lyrics, so I’m not gonna bother this time around.  Just…find the song somewhere, or look up the words if you’re so inclined; it’s relevant. 





So.  Jack’s finally come to his senses.  About bloody time, if you ask me…not that anyone does.  ‘Course, we’ve got an agreement now; not gonna be the same as it was, no roamin’ the universe lookin’ for people to con this time ‘round.  No, I’m stuck on 21st century Earth.   Still.  All ‘cos he doesn’t want to leave his precious team all by their lonesome, particularly since they’re still short on staff, and would be even more so if we were to just swan off.  Of course, they’re not a bad lot; Eyecandy’s quite fun, once you get past the perfectly ironed and starched exterior (even if he has got a bird now…honestly, since when has /that/ been a problem?), and Gwen…well, when she’s not tryin’ to make my life miserable (and failing, but that’s not the point), she’s not all bad.  ‘Course, the recent decision to constantly hit on Jack is gettin’ a bit tired, but at least she’s stopped the sudden declarations of love.  Right?  Could be a bit of a damper on things, particularly since Jack’s further off the market in that regard than before she went to visit the family.   Not that she seems to notice…Got ‘im all to myself now, at any rate.  In theory anyway, an’ that’s about the best you’ll get if you’re goin’ by 51st century dating customs.


A kiss on my cheek and a whispered “I love you” is enough to pull me out of sleep.  Not completely; was having a rather nice dream, one where our earlier activities figured prominently, only in a /proper/ bed, not the narrow Agency number, where there’s barely room for two.  Was just gettin’ to the good bit, too; Jack’s gonna pay later.  So I’m still holdin’ on to the dream, not fully awake an’ not intending to be any time soon.  Luckily, that seems to be pretty much all Jack wanted, so it’s not all that difficult to slip back into it.  He’s probably just goin’ off to his class.  Bloody poster boy.


Not thinking about it.  Doesn’t matter, anyhow.  It’s in the past, got no business affecting things now.


Anyway.  So, about to embark on a mission with TW LA; should be fun.  Something about tracking down robots that were supposedly destroyed /years/ ago, but weren’t.  Long as it pays well, it’s fine by me.  …Jack’ll probably be pretty ticked when he finds out, but that’s alright.  Not like it isn’t in my track record to play both sides of the field, right?  Should’ve expected somethin’ like this somewhere along the lines.  /Deserves to be hurt, anyway.  For what he did…/  And I thought I’d decided that was off-limits…?


Wake up later, and his side of the bed’s cold.  And I don’t mean lukewarm, I mean /cold/, as in hasn’t been there for a while.  But he’s s’posed to be teaching a class, so it’s not all that surprising.  Just annoying.


I wander out to the kitchen in search of something vaguely edible.  Last night’s dinner is still on the stove, burnt to hell, just like I knew it would be.  Only now it’s cold and greasy as well.  Guess who’s cleaning /that/ up later…


I check the cupboards, and find a lone, half-empty box of cereal.  Bit late for breakfast, but it’s better than nothing.  Don’t have to be anywhere for another few hours anyway, not until Jack gets back.  Got sparring for an hour or so, then a briefing for the latest assignment.  Joy of joys.  Least it’s something, might get Jack out of his funk.  Usually does the trick if the “wrestling” doesn’t.  I grab a bowl and the milk substitute (milk hasn’t been available for a month – something about an outbreak in one of the last herds, and the Agency’s too cheap to pay the higher price to stock the good stuff on base; not that surprising, really), and head over to the counter to eat.


And that’s when I see it.


Alright, that’s enough for now, thanks.  Been there once, not lookin’ for a repeat.   Was bad enough the first time around, an’ the few dozen times after that.  Things are different now, don’t need to worry about


The ring.  /His/ ring.  The one I can track, the one that’ll let me know exactly where he is at any given moment.  Why would he just…/leave/ it?  He /never/ takes it off, wouldn’t /think/ of takin’ it off unless…




But…he’d said he wasn’t gonna leave, not without me, anyway.  And it’s /Jack/; he wouldn’t lie to me, not about something like that.  Right?


Now I’m not so sure.  Time Agents; trained in every kind of combat imaginable, can use any weapon, knowledgeable about nearly every piece of technology in existence…and expert liars.  And Jack was the best, second in our class only to me.


You’d think I would’ve seen it coming.


“I’m not going anywhere without you.  Promise.”


Fuck you, Jack.  Fuck you and your sodding promises. 


Should’ve known better.  Should’ve caught the lie, it’s so /obvious/ now that I think about it; how could I have /possibly/ fallen for something as blatantly /transparent/ as that?  But no, I was so desperate to believe that he was gonna just /drop/ it and move on…This is /Jack/ we’re talking about, he finds something he deems important and he’ll bloody well latch on and keep at it for as long as he needs to.  Why did I think this would be any different?  Bloody git.


But he’ll come back.  ‘Course he will.  What we have…well, last night just proves it, doesn’t it?  He’ll come back, he wouldn’t just /leave/ me here.  He knows better.


/But he didn’t, did he?/  Well…no.  Spent another few years there ‘til the Agency finally went under, and another few after that doing the same sort of thing I’d been doing only without the middleman.  And when I /did/ find him he wanted nothing to do with me.  But it doesn’t matter anymore, we’re back to where we were.  Well, sort of.  Back a few steps, but that’s to be expected, really.  The /point/ is, we’re back together, like we’re /s’posed/ to be.  And he’s not going anywhere, not this time.  /You sure about that?/  Well, where the hell would he /go/?  He’s got Torchwood to look after now, not like he’s gonna hop on a ship and fly off to the Lotus nebula and leave everything behind.  /He might, if he finds out what you’re up to…or might send you away again.  Only so much misbehaving he can tolerate, particularly now you’ve got roped into bein’ a part of his /team/…/  He’ll understand though, won’t he?  I mean, not like I’m doin’ anything /particularly/ bad, just helping some people get some tech to sell.  Can’t fault a bloke for wanting to have a bit of pocket money, not when the day job pays shite…


Just consider it a bit of payback.  Not like he hasn’t got it coming.

Current Location: Torchwood 6 -spare bedroom
Current Music: "Man in the Long Black Coat" - Bob Dylan
Current Mood: melancholy